by Trey Deibel
“For good reason. Human population was at almost twelve billion souls on Earth before the war and declined to under five billion… sixty percent gone in the first few years. Rivers ran red.”
“That… is some next level bloodshed. Even still, I expected more from you given your disclaimer at the beginning.”
He grinned. “You weren’t kidding when you said you act older than your age.” His grin flashed away, and his eyes jumped back to the past. “The year is 2067. There were two sides: The United Nations of Democracy, we called them the UNOD, and the Selection of Communist Parties, or SOCP. I served in the former. World War III began due to years of tensions over resources - mainly around energy sources. At this time, we had yet to create a successful fusion reaction, and geothermal power was too unstable and unreliable. In order words, Earth couldn’t sustain its population any longer. Because of this potentially world-ending conflict, times were sour and bleak of joy. It wasn’t until 2068 that I was drafted, and it was the second worst day of my life. The first came on the day of September 9, 2072. After my unit was hit by an ambush, my best friend and I… w-we were all that remained.” There were tears in his eyes. “I-I knew the stubborn son of a gun all my life… since… since growing up in the city together. And here we were, at war, just us two, and an enemy squad chasing us. But the kicker… the kicker is, he wasn’t as lucky as I was. See, I was hit, sure… with blood pouring down my shoulder. But he was wounded so badly that I was carrying him down a path through a forest. We could hear the voices of the enemies getting closer, and he said… and I-I will never forget this: Put a bullet in me, I’m only going to get us both killed.” There was a pause, and the hairs on my neck stood tall. “If the enemy captured him, his remaining days would be filled with torture as they extracted information from him. So… so I set him down, looked into his brown eyes, and watched as the life left them the moment I pulled the freven trigger. I killed my best friend that day, only to live my life with that memory stuck in my head. James, sonny, it won’t be easy living with what you did even though your father turned out the way he did, but I can tell you that you still made the right decision. Take solace in that.”
“Jesus.” I was at a loss for words.
“By 2079, the UNOD defeated the SOCP and united the entire Earth under one senate and one judicial branch. I remember days… no, weeks of celebrations. For the first time in the history, Earth was united. And in that victory, my friend’s death didn’t go wasted. Make sure you take something positive away from your dad’s death.”
I nodded but was still interested, so I asked, “And the aliens? When did they make their grand entrance?”
“Near the end of World War III, advancements in slip space technology, or warp drives, took off. Two years after the war, humans made their first successful jump to Mars. Three days later, the qwayks landed on Earth, coming in peace. They offered humans an alliance with them, and the other two species allied with the Alliance of Republic Worlds for reasons I'm unclear on. After months of debating, Earth’s new senate accepted the alliance. Ever since then, our worlds have become more and more integrated. The only exception has been the maelkii. They mostly keep to themselves on their home planet, Maelkiin, instead.”
When Grandpa finished his story, I got up and walked toward the kitchen.
Knock, knock, knock.
The thuds came from the front door. My mother came into the kitchen and headed for the front door; her rushed steps clanked against the wooden floor. “Who could that be at such an early hour in the morning?” she asked herself. I followed her. When she opened the door, two men in GDI uniforms were standing there. “May I help you?” my mother asked them.
Showing their badges, both men introduced themselves. One then followed up by saying, “We're from the Global Department of Investigation. Are you Sarah Stone?”
“Yes,” she answered, a bit nervous.
“When was the last time you saw your husband?” they continued.
“Well, he's been missing for a few days. I filed a report.” My mom told them half the truth.
“Yes, we have that here.” One of them pulled up the report on their cyberwatch. “It says you filed it three days ago, is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry to inform you, we found him dead just this morning.”
Taking a few seconds to respond, my mom pretended to be shocked and even managed to form up a few tears. “Y-y-you did? I ca-can’t believe it.” She stuttered the words.
“Yes, ma’am, we are truly sorry.” They comforted her for a moment. “I know this is hard for you, but we need you and your son to come in for questioning. You see, he was murdered, and we need all the info you can give us to find his murderer.”
“Sure, ah… no problem. James, come on.”
She put her hand on my back, and we walked with the investigators to their car, passing the bushes that brushed up against the walkway. One of the GDI agents opened the back door and gestured for us to get in. He closed the door, then entered the front of the vehicle with his partner. Thick metal bars separated us from them, probably to protect them from someone trying to escape the vehicle.
My mom and I sat in silence. And it wasn’t until now that I realized silence can be deafening. All the thoughts I had, all the nightmares, played on a loop in my head throughout the car ride.
Eventually, I was pulled back to reality when my mom leaned in and whispered in my ear, “Do not say anything to them. I'll do all the talking.”
After a long drive, we arrived at the GDI interrogation station. They led us into the building, through guarded doors. Inside the common area, many GDI officers rushed around the desks, while others typed against holographic keyboards; everyone was hard at work. Each room was enclosed with reinforced walls made with concrete blocks and some form of metal I'd never seen before. There were guards with rifles strapped over their backs posted around each room. Each door required a GDI agent to open it with an eye scan and badge swipe. Upon arriving in the interrogation area of the building, the GDI agents separated me from my mother and forced us into two different rooms. Unable to think, I followed the agent and looked back at my mother with wide eyes. She began to struggle with another agent as he pulled her away from me.
They placed me in a room by myself, where I sat for over an hour. Through a window, I saw various men enter and talk with my mother in the room across from me. I tried to make out what they were saying but failed miserably.
I almost fell asleep from boredom before two GDI agents entered the room and sat across from me. One even brought me a glass of water. After a few days of living with my unnatural strength, I'd learned how hard to grip items such as glass. I cautiously wrapped my hand around the glass of water and lifted it to my mouth for a drink.
The two agents introduced themselves to me before proceeding. “So, your mother in there,” the agent pointed to the room, “just admitted to the murder of your father, Henry. However… a few things don’t quiet add up.” He slid a folder over to me. Inside, a picture displayed an imprint of something I couldn’t make out. “This is an imprint we found engraved in your father’s skull, which was shattered into quite a few pieces.” He pointed to the picture. “It took us a while to figure it out, but we finally came to the conclusion that… that it's the imprint of a child’s fist… probably around your age.”
Both agents searched my face and awaited a response. I clenched my fist against the cold metal bars of my chair. It took every bit of courage I had to keep myself from shaking.
“We found DNA samples of two individuals still on the shirt, despite it being wet… a beauty of modern science. Your mother was a match. I wonder if you will be, too.” My inner voice was practically screaming. “Look, James. You’re just a kid. All we want is your story to clear things up. If it happens to be self-defense, then let us help you. Besides, we're… quite interested to know just how you killed your father.” This is what my mother warned me about. If they were
to find out the truth as to how I killed my dad, what would they do, self-defense or not?
Only a second later, another agent entered the room and whispered into the ear of one of the other agents. “Excuse me,” he said to me, then they all left the room.
My mind screamed, “Run!”, but my body wouldn’t move. Anxiety built with each passing minute until a human and qwayk escorted my mother into the room. These two were wearing suits, not the uniform worn by a GDI office. What was going on?
Remembering my studies at school, I was able to tell this qwayk was a female because of her smaller size and green eyes. I knew males could only have teal or blue eyes, and females could only have green or yellow-green eyes. That and the obvious three knockers on the qwayk female. Other than the thinner frame, gray skin, and vantors covering their faces, qwayks were very humanoid in appearance. The man with the qwayk was a black male; brown eyes that jumped with enthusiasm and a flat top hair style that stood tall and stiff. He spoke first.
“Incredible. The odds of encountering two gingers these days are borderline miniscule... a consequence of nano-immunal technology.”
“Who are you?” my mother asked, getting right to the point.
“Pardon me. My name is Kalvin Keefe, the Director of the Order of Aegis. This is Jean’ma Plow.”
My mother stopped him. “What’s Eye-Just, Ah-Just, whatever it’s called?”
“Aegis,” Kalvin corrected her. “Make no mistake, we are not an agency of the government. The Order of Aegis is a privately subsidized organization tasked with the development and research of technology and artifacts in order to support the well-being of the Alliance of Republic Worlds, or ARW for short. Humbly, we take every measure to service all species affiliated under the ARW document.”
“And what are you doing here?” she asked, rushing them to their point.
“Our organization was informed about this astonishing case, and I had to glimpse it for myself.”
“Now you’ve seen it. So why else are you here?”
“Madam, we have confirmed that James,” he looked at me now, “murdered his father. Moreover, we confirmed the marks left on the both of you prove that atrocious excuse of a male was abusive. Lastly, after we explored your longstanding home, we acquired evidence that proves, beyond a reasonable doubt, that the father was killed in self-defense,” he leaned in a bit closer, bragging almost, “some of which was expertly planted by us.” He leaned back out. “Being a privately subsidized organized has its advantages - one of which is leeway. We have obtained the right to take James under our watch for research purposes. We--”
“You can’t take James! He's only twelve years old!” my mom started to beg.
“Madam, please, let me finish. We recognize for a fact that there is something exceptional about James, and we plan to uncover that.” This was what my mom and I feared. “Whether it be by force or your consent, we will have James in Project Ace. Nonetheless, if you would prefer, we can establish visiting days. The more you cooperate with us, the more benefits we can offer you, understand?”
“NOT ON YOUR LIFE! You have no right to take James! I'll bring the GDI into this matter!” My mother flew up and booked it toward the locked door, where she started to bang her fists against the glass. Kalvin sat still and looked at her with disappointment. “Where is everyone? I don’t see any GDI officers anywhere!” She banged louder and faster.
Kalvin pulled out a piece of paper and slid it over to where my mother had been sitting. “I request that you scribble down any substantial information about James: Daily routine; necessities; anything you can recollect. In addition, I want you to scribble down a precise time and day during the week when you would prefer to visit James.”
My mother ignored him and ran over to the security camera. “Help! He’s going to take my son!”
The camera was shut off. It was hopeless! She looked back at me with a look I rarely saw, yet it was all too familiar – a combination of pursed lips and a deadpan gaze. Her eyes drifted into thought, and she bit at her lips; this meant the matter was far from over.
“Madam, please have a seat.” After a long wait, my mother finally took a seat. Her eyes shot balls of fire at Kalvin. He either didn’t care or didn’t notice. With a bit of flare, he gestured to Jean’ma Plow. “This is our lead researcher at the Aegis Research Center, and she will have the responsibility of researching and caring for James. Our research center is a mere couple hours away from your current residence. I took the liberty of jotting down the center’s address on that paper I handed you. Since James has not attended high school yet, I am curious: Does he own a render chip at the current moment?”
“No. I couldn’t afford one, and since high school is the first place where he'd be in an integrated school with the other species, I figured I could wait to get him one.” My mom hid the anger and sorrow from her voice.
“Madam, you are in luck. I just happened to bring along the newest model.” Using a utensil, he pulled out a microchip smaller than a grain of rice from his bag. “This is the tiniest model to date, and it is programmed with every identified language in the galaxy. It should have no trouble translating every identified species’ native language into English for James to comprehend.” He looked at me. “Lean over, James. I promise this will not be painful.”
He placed a render chip in each of my ears. Once inside, small legs tickled my skin as they crawled farther down my ears and planted themselves near my eardrums. At first the sensation was unusual; soon I didn’t even notice it.
My mother spent the next twenty minutes listing everything she could think of on that paper. Meanwhile, Jean’ma ran a few minor tests on me, taking my blood pressure and listening to my heart. Afterwards, they gave me and my mother a few minutes to say goodbye.
My mother removed the cross from around her neck and placed it in my hand. “James, I want you to keep this until I figure everything out. I don’t want you to worry. They said I can visit you every week. I want you to be strong for me. Behave, and follow everything they ask you to do.”
She couldn’t keep from crying as she hugged me one last time.
Chapter 5: Twisted Childhood II - Tortured
March 5, 2103 – March 18, 2103
James Stone
“James, come on, it’s time to start today’s testing,” said Jean’ma Plow, leading me down a bland hallway to the same room as always.
“What load of torture can I expect today?” I asked with dread in my voice and waited miserably for her response.
“Shock therapy,” she said as a devious smile sprouted across her face.
Therapy... yeah, right. 'Torture' is a word that better encompasses this hell, I thought but responded to her with a hesitant smirk, hiding away my abhorrence for this horrible woman like a dirty magazine.
For the first few weeks, the scientists pushed my body to and past my limits; measuring my durability, strength, perception, reflexes, and speed. After that, for around three years the researchers ran tests to locate the markings in my DNA that made me so special. Test after test I endured, many of them causing me excruciating amounts of pain. Last week, they put me in an ice bath for an hour. The week before that, they stuck needles into some of my major bones. To my knowledge, each test thus far had been unsuccessful. My mother’s weekly visits were the one thing that kept me going. Once she found out what they were doing to me, she began to campaign and protest against the Order of Aegis; unfortunately, that protest and campaign has yet to gain enough ground to get me released.
“Sit here.”
Jean’ma tapped her hand against the chair to her left. Like always, I was taken to the same room. Hologram monitors and lab equipment surrounded me in all directions. Behind each monitor was a research scientist, some of whom were human, the rest of whom were qwayks. It'd become routine for me.
The hard seat cushion refused to compress under my weight. Bumps lining the cushion of my chair forced my back to bend against it; too bad the uncomfortab
le seat was the best part about the test. Ready, I awaited the inevitable pain. They strapped me down with three-inch veridium braces to keep me in place. Veridium, one of the toughest metals ever discovered, doesn’t conduct electricity. A rubber mouthpiece was placed in my mouth for me to bite down on. After that, they encased both arms, legs, and my chest in metal. To finish off the setup, they placed some wires on my wrists, head, arms, legs, and chest to look for my DNA markers. If this test were successful, my DNA markers should light up on their monitors. Or so the scientists claim.
“Three, two, one,” Jean’ma started. I bit down on the rubber in my mouth. “Begin!”
The first shocks traveled from the metal on my left arm to the metal around my chest. Starting off weak, the shock was like an itch you can’t scratch. Following the first shock, a second shock traveled from my right arm to my chest. Another shock traveled from my left leg to my chest, and another from my right leg to my chest. This cycle repeated for ten minutes as the researchers made notes on their monitors, clicking away on projected keyboards; some were writing in qwayk languages, others in human languages.
“The markers aren’t appearing,” one researcher said.
“Time to increase the current,” instructed Jean’ma.
“As you wish. Doubling the current in three, two, one.” I bit down on the rubber harder. “Begin!”
“Ergh!”
I thrust my waist forward with each shock. At the higher current, my body felt as if it had been thrown into a wasp's nest. For another ten minutes, the pattern was repeated.
“Still no markers.”
“Quadruple the current this time,” Jean’ma instructed.
“That would max us out, Jean’ma. His heart could stop!”
“If that happens, we’ll revive him. Continue with the test.”
“Yes, ma’am. Three, two, one.” I braced every muscle in my body. “Begin!”