by Almney King
“What fun do I need to be in this situation?”
Elric shook his head. “You’ll go crazy with that attitude,” he said. He leaned into me and whispered. “I’ve heard stories. Sometimes the recruits utterly lose it. After curfew, they get out of bed and ram themselves into the wall until their heads crack and there’s nothing but brain matter dripping to the floor.”
I looked at him. “What are you saying?”
Elric shrugged. “I’m saying, if you get those kind of tendencies, you should take a trip to the infirmary. I know you’re probably too prideful for it, but it’s crucial.”
“There’s no need for that,” I told him.
His eyes widened a bit. “Why not?”
“Because,” I said, “I’m perfect.”
Elric had nothing to say after that. In fact, he began to look at me differently. He would watch me often, trying to dissect me, trying to figure out what it was that made him inferior to me in every way.
Later that day, I was scheduled for what ARTIKA called cerebral adaptation. It was a kind of information transfusion. The room was full of these glassy blue booths, eight booths a row, each with its individual psyche chair. A black hood hovered over each chair. The hoods contained what the MW’S called piston chords. The chords would be shot straight into the brain and begin a transfusion of messages. By the end of the session, I would know Hedai. I would know the Meridian language.
“Celeste 2102?”
I faced the woman who had called me. “You will be seated in row C, chair two. Please follow me.”
I followed her in silence. “Please be seated,” the woman ordered.
I slid onto the seat then leaned back against the head rest. Metal restraints clamped over my wrists. “You’re going to feel a small jab in the back of your neck. Do not be alarmed and stay relaxed.” I jolted as the piston chord pierced my spine. It was a painful experience, but I soon melted into the chair, my vision gradually darkening.
Hours later, when my eyes opened, I could sense a new knowledge lying dormant in my mind. “How do you feel, Celeste?” the mw asked.
I sat up. “Well,” I replied.
“Congratulations, Celeste. You are already half way through stage one. That was much faster than expected,” she praised. “You can now retire and replenish your nutrition levels.”
I stood from the chair, feeling a slight aftershock. As I left, I observed the remaining forty seven recruits still under session. It was hardly shocking. After all, I was their superior.
“Celeste 2102,” the woman called. I turned back to her. She smiled. “We expect great things from you,” she said. I said nothing. What was there to say to a face I would either forget or one day destroy?
CHAPTER SEVEN
CONQUEST
The weeks passed quickly. Soon, I knew nearly every detail of Niaysia. I was taught by Instructor Styler, an mw who had travelled to the planet on several occasions. He always had a story to tell. They typically ended with him in the arms of death and, by some miracle, finding an escape. I didn’t care for his stories. They were too repetitive and dramatic for my liking. It made me question if he ever actually visited the planet at all.
“We’ll start with the outer rim of Niaysia. I want to give you an idea just how difficult your landing will be before you advance. First, Niaysia is on a four hundred hour rotation, traveling at a speed of ten thousand kilometers per hour. There’s only a ten minute window when the planet orbits close enough to Earth for landing. Not only that, Niaysia is protected by a very dense asteroid belt. The asteroids are like crystal and emit a sort of bioluminescence absorbed from the planet. Now, every once in a while, Niaysia and its satellites go dormant. Their rotations cease and the bioluminescence dies out. It’s like a sort of hibernation, one might say. It occurs every seventy-seven days and lasts no longer than seventy-two hours. It is quite the phenomenon. New Eden uses this resting period to ship goods and safely transport our MW’S to and from the planet.
“There is also another hazard. Niaysia has several moons, suns, and planets around it emitting strong gravitational pulls. These forces are unpredictable and can send you drifting off course, or worse, crashing into one of the asteroids. As you might have guessed, the landing is the most dangerous part of this mission. It’s very risky business. For unknown reasons, we’ve found departing from Niaysia much simpler than landing on it. We believe the force field acts as a sort of security feat for foreign invaders. Difficult to check in. Easy to check out.
“Once you land, you’ll discover some quite unusual features about the planet. Before I get to that, I’ll explain a few other things. First, there are what we believe to be eight hundred and sixty-four days to our one year on Earth. Our MW’S who return find that a lot of time has passed compared to the time spent on Niaysia. There’s also the trouble of the landing location. Niaysia is about twenty-four thousand miles in diameter. That’s about three times the size of the earth. ARTIKA hasn’t even charted a fourth of the planet. I’m warning you to never leave the charted areas. If you do, you may never find your way back. For reasons unknown, however, arsenals generally land in the same area, a rather large island off the Vatierian mainland. The Meridians call it Isaya.
“Now, before you reach the island, there are several atmospheric layers you will travel through. Niaysia’s atmosphere is similar to Earth’s except for several facts. One, vegetation on Niaysia can extend thousands of feet into the mesosphere. That’s anywhere from seventy to eighty miles high. I’m telling you this because we’ve had arsenals land in the mesosphere thinking they’ve reached land who end up falling to their deaths. It’s very dangerous business.
“Another fact, Niaysia’s atmospheric makeup is the exact opposite of Earth. It consists of eighty percent oxygen and twenty percent nitrogen. ARTIKA has designed you to physically adapt to this environment. However, our MW’S will need constant protection to make sure their exo-suits are not damaged during field duty. For all green-tags, that is your mission.”
As Styler spoke, the image of a thick jungle lit the projection board. “Ninety percent of the island is covered in extremely dense vegetation. Twenty percent of our recruits die within the first twenty-two hours. Often enough, they’re separated from the group and picked off by predators.”
The image changed. “Finally, there’s the New Eden headquarters. The base is located sixty miles from the initial landing point. ARTIKA built a secure station deep underground. The Meridians call it the Ohaw. The Ohaw is a spiritual sanctuary. The only Meridians permitted to enter are the Taiya, the planet’s holy elders. I have to warn you about our zone-watchers though. Anyone hovering around the green-zone without proper clearance will be shot. It’s very ugly business,” he said again. “I wouldn’t risk it if I were you.”
Following his introduction, Styler showed us image after image of the island’s wildlife and geographic landscapes. We learned all the different nations and civilizations across the mainland. Every now and then he told us one of his epic tales which was usually followed by some dramatic and historic quote. It took hours.
The following day, Instructor Kane took us to sector 6 of Pilot. The sector was a storage space for robotic fly suits. “This is your way to Niaysia,” Kane said. “The halos-suit IG. Welcome to the greatest place on Earth.”
The halos-suit was difficult to maneuver. The mechanics were nerve ending sensitive, making the robotics shift at the slightest movement. “The halos-suit is all manual,” Styler explained. “The field around Niaysia absorbs the power of any energized technology within a twenty kilometer radius. You’ll travel alone. It makes piloting through the asteroid belt less of a hazard. Any craft larger than the halos-suit is a cause for collision.
“When you’re in flight, keep the body vertical. Second, stay relaxed. Let your body do the steering, not the suit. When you first enter the suit, it will be difficult to breath. The air tank is full of nitrogen to help you adjust to the planet’s atmosphere before landing.”
It took a complete five hours to get accustomed to the halos-suit. I finished the session early and returned to my quarters. I was unusually tired. It must have been Proloxy 7. There was no other explanation.
When I woke the next morning, things felt out of place. I went to the mirror and looked at myself. There was something on my forehead. I pulled my hair back to get a look. It was a bruise, a thick gash running from my hairline to the top of my brow. I searched the walls and found it. There was a deep crater in the wall, right above the message board.
I looked to the mirror again. And when I saw myself, I jumped back in horror. My right eye was completely black. I couldn’t see from it. What was happening? I slid the halos from under the bed and stuck myself with a vial.
A sharp pain struck my body. I steadied myself against the bedpost. The metal bent forward at the vice of my grip. When the pain softened, I could see again. I took a few breaths then looked to the mirror. All was normal, but it wasn’t the end.
I would have to endure this. ARTIKA would make me endure this. It was they who bred me. It was they who cursed me. They did it for survival. They did it for control. My birth, it was not an offering of life. It was a ritual for ruin.
“You look different,” Elric said.
“I was thinking the same thing,” Tank agreed.
Since the day we met, Tank and Elric had taken a liking to me. I didn’t understand it. Most of the time I was aloof and threatening in conversation. I didn’t like to talk and could care less for silent company. They followed me anyway. Over time I suppose I had no choice but to accept it. They were my comrades.
“I’m perfectly well,” I told them.
“Are you sure?” Kitty pressured. She leaned over the dining table, searching my face. “You look a little unstable.”
Tank yanked her back into her seat. “You sure like to antagonize her, don’t you?” he said.
Kitty shrugged, tilting her nose in the air. She was such a child. “Why do you always defend her?” She glanced at me. “There’s nothing special about her. Nothing that I can see.”
“Don’t be like that, Kitty,” Elric said. He placed an arm around my shoulder. I didn’t like it. He was too affectionate. “Celeste has been through a lot. That makes her one of us.”
I shrugged his arm away. “I’m not one of you,” I said. “I’m better.”
Tank chuckled. Kitty’s face twisted in offense. “See, I told you. Tank, how can you be friends with an arrogant wench like that?” she whined.
“You’ve got nerve, Celeste,” Tank said. “It’s more entertaining than it is a pain in the ass.”
I could sense them coming before the dining hall door opened. Everyone looked their way. It was Dr. Hailey, followed by her armed subordinates. She approached the table with a smile. It was a tense smile. She was anxious of something.
“Good afternoon, Celeste. If you could come with me please.”
I stood up and followed her without sparing a glance at the table. We ended up leaving Pilot and returning to the humanization facility. I wanted to turn back. The humanization facility, it was full of horrors. I could still feel the drilling machines and the sting of steel cutting through my flesh.
Dr. Hailey led me into a waiting area just outside the examination room. “Why am I here?” I asked. My voice was thick and the question came out more like an order.
She lifted her halo-pad. I watched the screen. It was a recording of me in my quarters, asleep. I glanced up at her in shock. I had guessed, but I never actually knew if I was being watched. I looked at the screen again. I watched myself leave the bed. My feet dragged across the floor to the other side of the room. I looked hypnotized. I was still asleep. Then it happened. I beat my head into the wall. I did it again and again and never once woke up.
“It continues for another thirty minutes. That’s why you’re here. You’ve been taking unapproved dosages of halos. Your case is empty when it should be more than half full.”
“What of it?”
Dr. Hailey sighed. “It’s called genasis, a form of dementia caused by Gene-Nome 1.”
I gave her a hard look. “What is Gene-Nome 1? I thought Proloxy 7...”
“Proloxy 7 is what we used on our ordinary recruits, but you’re not an ordinary recruit. Are you, Celeste?”
I took a breath. “No... I’m not.”
Dr. Hailey smiled. “So immodest,” she said. “It will take you far.”
The door suddenly slid open. Another mw and his attendant entered the room. The man looked familiar. Of course, he was the same man who shot that woman upon my escape. He was also the same man who flashed light in my eyes the moment before I entered the humanization chamber.
“Dr. Gerald. We weren’t expecting you here today,” Dr. Hailey said.
The man ignored her and looked straight at me. His eyes were gleaming. He looked hungry. “I’ll overlook it this time, Eva,” Dr. Gerald said, “but don’t ever conduct testing on 2102 behind my back again.”
Dr. Gerald stepped forward. He stopped when Dr. Hailey grabbed him by the arm. Never before had I seen her look so desperate, so weak. There was something between them. I could tell. And when I looked at her hand on him, I saw the silver of her ring flash in the light.
Dr. Gerald ripped his arm away and came to me. He placed his hands on my shoulders and stared. There was amazement in his eyes and maybe even a little bit of adoration. He was so close I could feel his breath fanning over my face. “You are under my care now,” he said. “Dr. Marshall, he couldn’t tame you. It’s best that you killed him. That way he can remember his mistakes even beyond the grave.”
The memory was quick to return. I remembered his screams as I bit into his throat. I remembered the taste of blood in my mouth and the beat of his heart. It was so slow at first and then it was nothing. I felt power in that moment, so much power.
“You are the beginning, 2102,” Dr. Gerald said. He caressed my face. “You and I, we’ll make more than history. We’ll make the future of heaven.”
This man was a savage. He was mad, and when I thought he couldn’t be any more disturbed, he leaned in and touched me with his lips, right on the corner of my mouth. I was so angry I could hardly move. I wanted to rip his throat out.
Dr. Gerald took a step back. He turned to Dr. Hailey. She looked horrified. Her body went limp. She trembled and the words she tried to say fell numb on her lips. Dr. Gerald approached her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Take good care of her,” he said. Then he left.
There was silence. When Dr. Hailey finally spoke, her voice was heavy with contempt. “Ms. Sandra, the safety suit please.”
The woman nodded and raised the suit to me. “Please undress,” Dr. Hailey ordered. She looked down at her halo-pad, typing something over the screen. When I didn’t move, she gave me an impatient look.
“Aren’t they going to leave?” I ordered.
She looked at her guards. “Why?”
“Because,” I insisted, “they’re men.”
Dr. Hailey raised a brow. “My guards are not to leave my side.”
“Then they can turn around,” I ordered. “Couldn’t I at least keep my dignity?”
“Are you human, 2102? No, you’re not. Then you understand, you have no dignity.”
I glared at her for a moment. My chest was hot and heavy. I had never been so enraged. This woman did that to me. And she would know it one day, and one day, she would regret it.
I snatched the suit from the woman and undressed. It was humiliating. The guards wore helmets, so I couldn’t see their faces. But they were watching. They were humans after all, sly and shameless.
When I finished, Dr. Hailey smiled. She was satisfied. And I swore to myself that on the day of her death, I would be there.
CHAPTER EIGHT
INTUITION
Soon enough, I was promoted. Elric was thrilled about his new black suit. Tank had been rather collected about it. That was the difference between them. While Elr
ic was vibrant and curious, Tank was cautious and low-energy. They complimented each other well. Kitty, on the other hand, was always a nuisance. I had no tolerance for her at all.
“Just wait, Red. Soon I’ll be showing these sorry arsenals how it’s done,” Elric said. He gave me a wink, and I glared at him in return. “Even you’ll be in line for a lesson.”
“I have no intention of learning any lesson from you. And stop calling me, Red,” I hissed.
Tank snickered. “You don’t like it?” Elric asked. “Tank came up with it. I thought it was kind of endearing.”
“Did he now?” I glanced at the both of them. “Then when we get in the arena, I’ll be sure to remember.”
“What about me, Tank,” Kitty chimed, “don’t I get a nickname?”
“What for?” Tank asked.
Kitty pouted. “Fine then. Nicknames are childish anyway.”
“Attention!”
Captain Valler entered the room with pristine military formation. “Congratulations, arsenals. Now that you’ve become full-fledged soldiers, it’s time to get those hands a little bloody.”
He lifted a large weapon from one of the tables, fiddling with the mechanics. “The new laser mr2,” Valler introduced. “Isn’t she a beauty?”
Valler had a strange enthusiasm for weapons. He treated every armament and piece of technology like a work of gold.
“This is the Aeromatic Alistair.” Valler drew back the bow’s metal thrust. “There’s a red blinker on the arrow head set to discharge once the bow is activated. The energy inside will explode five seconds after being fired.” Valler handed the bow to a nearby recruit then moved on to the next device. It was nothing but a thin metal bracelet with a bright lens in the center.
“These are halo-coms. They’re touch and voice activated. Any information you may need is stored on this little trinket. Maps, wildlife, geographic inventory. At times, you will receive notifications from Eden on recent activity in the area. You can also track and communicate with your team if need be. At some point and time, you’re bound to get separated.”