Program Erin

by Alex Fall

  Part 1

  Ugh, the thought of facing their fussing and bickering irritated me before I ever confronted it. I entered the old building at ground level after the flight techs secured my ship and I relieved my crew members. Based on the reaction of the flight techs at seeing me again, I could guess how people's conversations were going to go. I haven't returned to any of the five cities of the Decapolis in months. I had been spending my time out in the Jenji, a fancy word for the rest of the quiet, peopleless, recuperating world outside of the five cities.

  I entered the main lobby of the old "Magistracy of the Decapolis" building. I think I liked it more back when the Magistrates called themselves the Grounded...or the Runners for that matter. Both of those groups worked simpler as a proxy government to replace the old Directorates. When they merged, it was a huge deal. Old grudges resurfaced, new rules were implemented, and the focus of the remaining human race shifted. And most importantly, I got sucked into working for them. I don't like government really. That's why I had such a huge part in eliminating the last one. That, and it was personal between me and them. Yet, here I am, having to give a report. People's eyes followed me as I strode through the structure. I entered the elevator and a nervous office man made space for me. Then, he tried conversation.

  "Oh...er, good evening Captain De'mus. First day back in a good while isn't it?" Just how I imagined the greetings...

  I scoffed. "Quiet...."

  The man cleared his throat and looked at the ground. "Uh, yes captain."

  His floor came first, and the office man seemed eager to get off. Good, now I can relish the silence. The elevator didn't stop again until I was on the 18th floor. The doors came open right as Gus, an officer of the old Grounded, passed by. He had a thick face, a little worn down now by the stress of government work, short, healthy blonde hair and intent green eyes. He was solid, but he knew I could take him, despite me being a girl, so there was an unspoken understanding to give me my personal space.

  "My god, is that Erin? You haven't been back in what, forever?" There's that greeting again.

  I moaned. "Oh great, you're here too? Isn't it punishment enough to have to meet with any of you?"

  Gus smiled and looked forward as he walked with the same pace as me. "For you maybe. Last I checked, there's nothing that says it's punishment to bring back records to the higher ups."

  "Psh. Don't flatter yourself. There's no one above me."

  "Just cause you're the top one in your field, doesn't mean you're the best there is." He pushed a door open and held it open in an exaggerated bow. I passed through and made it a point to ignore him.

  The door opened to a meeting table with three others sitting down. Gus took a seat amongst them. Mason, another ex-Grounded member who was smaller, leaner, and dark haired, and a stout, ginger woman named Heather were also in the room, but a new face was here too.

  "Well you sure took your sweet time. You haven't been back in what? Five months?" Said Heather.

  Stop greeting me by acknowledging my absence! I don't want to be back! "Oh I'm sorry, was there something more pressing and boring to do here?" I said through clenched teeth.

  "Whoa now, we just asked you to be back sooner than last time is all," Mason said with his hands outstretched in an attempt to diffuse the situation.

  I glanced at the new face. "What are you looking at?"

  The tall and so-skinny-it-looked-unhealthy man stood to greet me. "Forgive me, I've just never seen you in person. I am Hugh, the new head of the De'mus board."

  "Another one? What, Bay couldn't handle the stress?" I asked.

  "No, that was Gertrude. Bay left because he felt like you were going to get yourself killed and didn't want to take care of the mess. But you wouldn't know that cause you're never here!" Heather said with a raised voice.

  I turned to face her. "Well maybe I'll just stock up on all your goodies one day and disappear. Then I won't have to listen to your *cuss*!"

  Mason stood up. "Erin!"

  "You either! Just cause I have the guts to go farther out in the Jenji than anyone else doesn't give you a right to control how I live. You're just a glorified info broker!"

  "What is with you? You're a lot more aggressive than normal," said Gus.

  I faced him next. "Do you want in on this too?" A hand grabbed my shoulder, and out of reflex and irritation, I grabbed it, turned and put the arm into a submission hold.

  The thin, older man, Hugh, dropped to one knee but with control, stood back up. In a calm voice, he said, "My, I was warned about your fire."

  I glared then released his hand. "Which one?"

  He smiled lightly as he rubbed his hand. "Were not trying to be the bad guys here. We--"

  Interrupting, I said, "Then stop trying to control me!"

  I saw Heather shake her head, and Gus sighed. Hugh took a deep breath then continued. "We're not trying to control you, Erin. You have to understand that you are special. You voluntarily go out further than our own people go under command. Because of that, you see things that we don't. That's why Heather's group sends you with her scanning tech, and why you bring back info for Mason and Gus. You are helping them and in turn the Decapolis. And it's because you're so special that we worry. It's my job to keep you alive and well."

  I stared out the window, refusing to make eye contact with anyone. "That's not what makes me 'special.' I'm fine on my own..."

  "I know. But you'd be even better with our help."

  I shifted my glare to Hugh. I could tell it made him uncomfortable. "My crew might be better with your help, but I'M fine..."

  Hugh nodded slowly. "Ok. Well, we'll talk to them. If it suits you better, just forward me all the info the Board is asking for later, and I'll organize it for them and contact you if I have questions." He raised a hand to stop the objections of the others in the room. I kept my glare locked on him.

  He cleared his throat after a moment of staredown. "Um....deal?"

  "....fine." I turned and exited the room before they changed their mind, ignoring any further comments.

  The air outside was cool, but then again, I always felt cold. It's a weird side effect of my inner power. My crew had dispersed and my ship was neatly parked in its own little alcove within the city. The ship was an old recon vessel, fit to travel with five people and the pilot. I was told it was space flight capable, but we never went that high. However, because it was such, it meant that you could also live out of it. This was my home. I no longer belonged in the Decapolis, so I lived on the ship, and whenever possible, out in the Jenji.

  I pulled my jacket and outer top off, donned a fleece shirt, then collapsed on my bed. The room was dark, quiet, and lonely, but sleep wasn't coming tonight. I saw the familiar glow of a light on my comp. It wasn't covered, which lit up the room pretty good for my eyes when it pulsed brighter. I stumbled over and searched for the message.

  Turns out Marcus wanted to meet up with me....again. It'll have to wait till tomorrow.

  * * *

  The sound of machinery and monitoring equipment echoed lightly. Around me, there was only darkness. Why can't I move? Who brought me here? I'm so scared... Outside of the room, I heard voices. It sounded like they were trying to silence another panicked voice. Suddenly I heard it screaming. Sheer panic filled all space. The screams were muffled out by strange noises and machinery. What's happening? Who are these people? Where am I? What's happening on the other side of this door? No! I don't want to know! I just want to go home! I felt some warm liquid seep in and touch my foot. What is that?! Oil? Blood? The sound of my racing heart boomed against the ominous silence that fell outside the door. Then, THEY were ready for me. "She's next, get everything ready to try again." No, they can't have me! This can't be happening! Please, NO!

&n
bsp; I jerked to a sitting position on my bed. The sheets were slightly damp from cold sweats. I swallowed dryly, working quickly to silence the night terrors. From the time the Directorates went down, I finally began to sleep at night without sedatives, although not much or often. Nightmares happened too often with them. And now, even though I was designed to run on less sleep, I still wasn't getting enough.Tonight only afforded me 2 1/2 hours. At least the next couple nights won't have the terrors.

  Time passed slowly until I had to leave to meet Marcus. I passed as much as I could by keeping my body conditioned and in prime shape. Our rendezvous ended up being at some quaint cafe. Marcus was a husky guy with a gentle face and light brown hair plus a funny scar down the back of his neck, now sitting at an outside table eating some kind of sandwich. He used to do work for the Directorates before they fell, but once they did, he took up data recovery under Mason. If he had been part of Project De'mus back then, I would have made sure he wouldn't have remained unpunished today. I approached and took a seat quietly, but Marcus sat up to greet me and ordered something for me before he swallowed the bite he was on. I think he considered me a friend, but I don't know for sure why. Admittedly, the feeling was not mutual.

  "I'm so glad you could come! I haven't seen you in a while!" He said cheerily.

  I leaned back and looked off to the side in the distance. "Yeah, haven't been in the Decapolis in a while..."

  "What do they have you doing now? Saving more leftovers?"

  The Leftovers. They were the Directorates secret, early attempts at genetic manipulation. Or at least, some of them were. Odd ones always seem to pop up, like anomalies in their kind. Some of Heather's people have an interest in these unique ones, so occasionally I bring one back to keep the Board off my back. If I had my way however, I'd just kill them all.

  "When I find them, yes. There haven't been very many lately. And it's not like there's any leftovers worth saving anymore."

  "Maybe almost all of them are gone."

  I shrugged. "As if. There's still plenty out there, just none that are redeemable. But if so, one less Directorate mistake to worry about."

  Marcus took another bite, but was silent for a moment. I glanced to see why the lapse in words and found him giving me some kind of look. "What?" I asked.

  He swallowed before speaking. "So you go out reversing everything the Directorates did, except yourself?"

  I locked gazes with him. "I need the power to hunt the leftovers! What would you be if I fixed myself first? Unemployed? Monster food? "

  He stared softly but with a look of disappointment. "I might have been, might not. But like you said, there's barely any of them left. So why keep the power?"

  I clenched my teeth behind my closed lips. "I still need them, trust me."

  "Are you sure it isn't because you like being powerful?"

  I fought the inner irritation that grew. "I'm the only one that can use the experiment as I see fit. There's a reason for that, I just need to find out what."

  Marcus sat back in his chair as the waitress came back with some chili. "Thanks...so, you honestly think that bringing down the Directorates wasn't your purpose?"

  "That was Arty!"

  "And mostly you..."

  "I helped, but that wasn't my purpose!"

  "But you're holding on to a destructive ability in a time of rebuilding. Is that why you leave for so long? Do you hope to find purpose somewhere out there?"

  My irritation sparked and I stood suddenly. "Why does everyone insist on lecturing me lately?!"

  "Whoa, I'm sorry! I'm just worried. Please sit down Ha-"

  "Don't use that name!" Others nearby perked up at the spike in volume. I need to get away from here.

  He paused. "That's your name, is it not?"

  I slowly breathed my anger out of my nose. How does he get off pretending to know me? And my name?... "No, it's not. I told you, I don't remember. No one does."

  "That's what the files suggested it was."

  "Those files were bogus. And my name is Erin."

  "You don't have to let what you are become who you are..."

  Just like Marcus, always good with philosophical statements. "I'm good how I am. Thanks for the food." I grabbed the chili and returned to my ship. Saving Leftovers? My old name? Marcus doesn't know anything. He's just trying to be friendly, but it's overshadowed by his assumptions. There were only so many Leftovers that the Directorates made, long before Project De'mus, and of those only a handful live through the reversal of whatever the Directorates did to them. What were they hoping to find by reversing them? None of them were ever human, so their efforts were pointless! Saving, yeah right. Besides, the rest of the Leftovers are from something else, perhaps another project that was going on during the War. Those I don't bother "saving." Those ones I kill. They aren't of any use to anyone anyway. Aside from all that, I had another voyage to plan. I need to get out of this place. I need to alert my crew.

  Mine was a good crew. They were competent. My ship could be flown with one person, but having extra hands sure helped outside the vessel, and in. Vick was my pilot, a broad, Latin man with buzzed hair and a quiet demeanor, also with incredible flying experience. Lori, the small statured, dark haired, rebel type white girl, and Reggie, the fit, springy black guy, both served as combat escorts, but Lori doubled as a mechanic, and Reggie as my ground level navigator.

  A policy I have for all crew members is that they can take their leave at home port if they feel they are no longer able to handle their job, or if they simply want out. My tech operator recently took up that policy, so I kept an eye out for a new one while planning our next excursion. The absence of one wouldn't stop me from leaving. Interestingly though, a replacement found me.

  I returned to my ship with a few basic necessities and instructions from my Magistrate 'parents' and discovered a man waiting outside my ship, talking to Vick. He turned and seemed a little taken back at my appearance.

  "Captain Erin De'mus?" He asked with a sure voice.

  His height was nothing special, and his appearance was that of a stalwart. His light brown hair and tanned skin suggested he spent a lot of time outside. Good. His short hair length and clean shaven face coupled with his built muscles suggested a measure of discipline. Good. His eyes were focused, and scanning. Good. And based on the few crates, his overstuffed pack, and the things he wore, it alluded to him looking to be a tech operator. Good...

  "What's the matter? They didn't tell you about my burns?" I replied.

  A confident smirk crept onto his face. "They did, but something about seeing it in person is a little more fulfilling. Name's Gar." He held his hand out for a handshake.

  I looked at his hand then his face. I'm not that easy hotshot... "That's not your name. Try again."

  "Erin isn't your name, so I guess we're even."

  Vick held back a look of surprise, and no doubt my face hardened. That's not common knowledge. Who is this booger?

  "No I'm not hiring you." With that comment I hoisted my backpack and began to walk inside.

  This 'Gar' had the gall to step in my way. "Whoa there, how do you know that's what I'm here for?"

  I locked my eyes into his and raised my voice while holding back low level irritation. "Because you're gear gives you away. Because I'm not supposed to leave until I find a replacement, and because you were talking to my pilot, whom you no doubt pried the info from. Need I go on?"

  He chuckled. "My, they were right about you being a spitfire."

  I growled, "In more than one way..." Vick's hands went by his side, where he keeps a stun gun.

  "You won't burn me," He stated. His confidence added to my irritation.

  "You think you're that important?"

  "I've noticed that you want to get away from the Decapolis quickly." He looked at the sky and said with a sort of musical tone, "If you hire me, we can leave sooner..."

  "Who the *cuss* sent you here?"

  "Um...that would be me," Gus said as he ent
ered the scene.

  I closed my eyes to help swallow my annoyance. "Great, my hero. Get your boy toy out of my docking bay before I incinerate him."

  "Gar" glanced at Vick to make sure I was joking. To his dismay, Vick told him otherwise.

  "That would be a waste of a good tech op. He's really skilled at it," Gus said.

  "He's cocky. He wouldn't last a week on my ship."

  "Why's that?" Gar chimed in.

  "Because I'd kill you..."

  A couple of leery glances were traded but my gaze was locked on this punk.

  "Wyatt, a word?" Gus said to him. So...his name is Wyatt.

  I told Vick to bring everything into the ship and I stood at the doorway of the entry chamber with my arms crossed, trying to blow some steam. Leaving time was scheduled in nine minutes, but Lori showed up on time as usual.

  "Captain? Is everything ok?"

  "Inside...now..." Without another word, Lori ran into the ship and I heard Vick whisper something about 'new recruit.'

  Soon Gus and Wyatt returned, and Wyatt approached with the same confidence, though dejected that he had to be serious. "Captain Erin, I'd like permission to be on your crew."

  I searched deep into his eyes to see if this was a joke. "Why would I ever give you permission to be on my ship?"

  "Because I'm pretty sure you don't want to hear what I have to say after this." He shifted his posture. My gaze was making him uncomfortable.

  I stared for a bit longer. "No, you don't have permission to even touch my ship."

  He sighed. "Then per order of the De'mus board, I'm here to inform you that I'm assigned to your crew." He picked up his pack and walked on board.

  My irritation was very hard to stifle. I breathed slowly out of my nose and glanced over to Gus. "Assigned? Is this a *cuss* JOKE?!"

  He looked to the sky and rubbed the back of his head. "No it's not. But he's one of the best tech ops available, and we wanted to get one on your ship cause we know you'll leave with or without a tech op, and quite frankly we prefer with..."

  I walked until I was in Gus's face. "And what's to prevent me from kicking him out the door when we hit a kilometer in altitude?"