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Human Page 14

by C R MacFarlane


  “This is a video from Evangecore. As you can see, they are very intelligent. They would have moments where they were normal children, playing, laughing. They could function the same as you or I. But then, suddenly.” The castle in the video grew, blocks being added rapidly. Without warning, one of the boys dropped a block. Then another of the boys bowled into the castle, knocking it to the floor. The mag-blocks turned from toys to weapons as the children hurled them across the room. “They’re unpredictable. We thought, as their hormones changed, the sudden shifts might abate. But they only got worse.”

  He changed the video to one of lush plants, a group of adolescents stalking through it. The teenagers turned, surging after another group with laz-rifles and fists. One streaked across the jungle floor, and launched herself up a stone wall, scaling it easily. The Augment punched through the wall, leaping into a group of unarmed scientists, and she tore them apart.

  Rayne nearly choked. “Is that Sarrin?”

  Her father nodded. “She was one of the worst. Entirely unpredictable.”

  “She had episodes on the Ishash’tor,” Rayne mumbled.

  “I know. She still has violent, dangerous outbursts. That’s why she was held in solitary on Selousa. They’ve all been held, as comfortable as we can make them. But there’s no telling when they could have an outburst of violence. It’s not safe for them to be around the folk. I hope you understand, after the war when they destroyed Earth, it was easier to let the folk believe they had perished. It had caused such a panic, and everything was already in such disarray, we didn’t want them to worry.”

  It all made sense. Rayne had been a fool. She’d seen Sarrin’s outbursts — seemingly normal and then suddenly not. And she’d seen the aggression written on Rami’s face. On Grant’s. They were dangerous and unpredictable. Neuro-chemically imbalanced.

  “They’re monsters,” her father said. "It's a gift from the Gods you made it back alive."

  She nodded.

  “I have to make a call.” He disappeared from the room.

  How was it that sweet, terrified Sarrin was the same girl in the video? But Rayne had seen her lose control and attack Kieran and Grant and a hallway full of Augments. Just as her father said. The Gods had taken care of the folk, as always. But sometimes it meant hiding the truth, a white lie. A lie she and Gal had stumbled on and been drawn into.

  She clicked on the video, minimizing it in the screen. A selection of other videos were available, all in a file noted 005478F. She picked one at random.

  In it, Sarrin sat in a small room on a cot. Her lips moved, but there was no sound on the video. Her matted hair hung over her face, and a large gash dripped blood on her shoulder.

  She picked another vid: Sarrin in a glass box, fighting nothing, her limbs moving faster than the cameras could detect.

  Rayne suppressed a shudder.

  One last video: Sarrin tied to a table, her body arcing with electric current. The tetany ended and she lay still, limp, unconscious. No — she was blinking, seeing. Feeling. But not fighting.

  What were they doing?

  Rayne swallowed the growing lump in her throat.

  She cleared away the selection of videos. In its place was a personnel file, the place for the photograph unusually blank.

  Below was a long list of medical entries.

  Experiment protocol Guitteriez178 at 20,000 Volts: Subject did not respond. 50,000 Volts — subject continues to resist. Failed to yield malleable state. Subject not suitable for mental manipulation or reprogramming.

  No, not treatment notes. Results. From experiments.

  She scrolled down.

  Experiment protocol Guitteriez154: Speed, agility, accuracy within 99th percentile, maintained over seventy-two hours. Subject outpaces simulation computer in both speed and endurance. Experiment aborted at 74.3 hours due to equipment malfunction. Subject exhibits abilities beyond expectations.

  What expectations?

  Missions and operative training. Level 9. Authorized by: Gen O. N.

  O. N. Oleander Nairu.

  She continues to scroll through the long list of experiments. They electrocuted her, tortured her, and he had authorized it.

  She tapped on the image collection attached to the file. There were none of her face, not even as a child. Only images that highlighted the way she moved, the way she jumped and flew through the air. Images of her in a classroom. Images in a combat ring.

  There were images of bruises. Then images of a long line of black marks — the procedural marks that they all bore — running down her back, more than she had seen on any other when they'd flaunted them aboard the Ishash'tor. Images of Sarrin tearing apart a group of people. Images of Sarrin in the glass box, fighting something unseen.

  And an image of a dead woman. Images of an operating theatre, silver glinting hands, and massive bandages.

  Finally images of Halud. Images of Sarrin on the freightship with all of them.

  Rayne stared at a picture, Sarrin in front, Rayne in the background. How had they gotten these pictures? The image was high angle, as though coming from above, fixed in the ceiling. The Ishash’tor had tactical security cameras in every corridor, and Rayne knew each of them. These had come from somewhere else, from secret cameras that would have been planted long before Halud had joined them or Sarrin brought on board.

  She scrolled back, chasing a terrible realization. The first images, the ones of her aerial acrobatics, they weren’t indoors. They weren’t in a training facility. They were outside, in an orchard. Before Sarrin had been captured.

  Why?

  She stood from the chair, heart tittering around in her chest. She had to get out of here. She had to return to the roof. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

  The quiet murmurs of her father’s voice came from his bedroom as he spoke into the secure console there. She crept closer so she could hear the words. “You have full mission authorization. Nairu-7-6-8-bravo-8. Keep it quiet. Keep it contained. Any means necessary. Exterminate the rest.”

  Exterminate.

  Gal.

  She gasped, pushing back from the doorway. The noise alerted the general, and he stood suddenly, coming towards her. “Rayne?”

  His arms were outstretched, but instead of the usual warmth, there was something foreign, dark in his eyes. She stepped back. “You did this to them.”

  * * *

  It was dark, well past curfew, and surveillance drones buzzed through the air. Rayne pushed her legs faster, her muscles screaming just as loud as the warnings in her head. Three drones tailed her, whirring through the narrow alleys ten feet behind.

  She reached the familiar building and threw herself up the wall, already shouting out as she started to climb. She had been so desperate to get away, so angry Gal had tried to keep her there. Now, she wished she had never left. She had been a fool.

  Gal leaned over the edge as she climbed the last few feet.

  “They know where you are,” she shouted up. “You have to run.”

  He didn’t question, just pulled her over the edge, his jaw set, eyes giving nothing away. Before, she’d imagined the expression meant he was lost in the JinJiu fog, now, it seemed far more calculating that that.

  The three Augments were huddled in the corner, sleeping. They stood abruptly, Luca looking up and rousing the others.

  Gal shouted at the man slumped in the corner at the same time as rushed to his side. “Can you walk?”

  Urubane nodded, rising. But when he put his foot on the ground, it collapsed, sending him crashing into Gal’s arms.

  Gal swore, wrapping his arm around the Uruhu.

  In the middle of the roof, the Augments stared up at the sky. Suddenly, Sarrin pushed Luca to the side. An instant later, she doubled over, clutching her upper arm. Blood seeped from around her fingers.

  An unfamiliar thwap hit the ground beside Rayne, kicking up dust. “Bullets,” she realized. “Get down!”

  They ducked low by the balustrad
e, and a wave of nearly silent projectiles tearing up clouds of dust across the rooftop.

  Rayne stared wide-eyed at Sarrin, who was tearing cloth to tie around her wounded arm. She hadn’t seen a bullet outside of a museum. They were silent. And deadly. More importantly, they could tear a hole through a starship hull in the blink of an eye. They were outlawed outright.

  The whump-whump of a hovercraft flew overtop them, it’s eerily quiet motors only audible as the machine passed directly above.

  “Move,” shouted Gal.

  Grant’s ugly skin-suit sprung from his back, pouring over him. He took Urubane from Gal’s arms and threw him over his shoulder. Gal pushed Rayne to follow him over the edge.

  This was her fault. Gal had told her, over and over again, not to visit the General. Over and over she'd ignored him.

  Quickly, they climbed down the wall. Her exhausted arms protesting as she fought to hold on with shaking fingers.

  She made it to the bottom faster than she had made it up. Grant waited. Urubane leaned against the wall, standing on one leg, the other clearly in an improvised splint. A UEC-grey package dropped over the edge of the roof, Grant catching it with a loud grunt.

  “What’s that?” Rayne asked.

  “Alex.”

  “What?”

  Gal scaled down, followed by Sarrin and Luca.

  Grant handed the package — the body — to Luca, and hefted Urubane over his shoulders again.

  A drone whirred nearby, but Rayne couldn’t see any of the three that had followed her.

  Sarrin turned, looking behind. At the same time, Rayne heard the pop of bullets raking across the con-plas roof. The hovercraft had turned back and was sending another volley of bullets across their hideout. In a moment, she heard the soft whump-whump again, and then the hovercraft’s silhouette blocked out the purple night sky

  A surprised grunt sounded in front of Rayne, and she turned to see Luca stumble into the wall.

  Gal frowned. “Leave him,”

  Luca shook her head. But she glanced at the wound on the back of her leg — just a graze, but deep enough for muscle fibres to show through the wall of blood.

  “It’s just a body,” grunted Gal.

  “They’ll find him,” said Grant.

  Gal shook his head. “They already know we’re here. It doesn’t matter.”

  Luca looked to Sarrin, but Sarrin shook her head. An alarming amount of blood dripped down her arm and splashed onto her leg.

  With a sigh, Luca bent to set the body down against the nearest wall.

  “Wait,” Gal stopped her. “Give him to me.” He took the grey package, staggering once under the weight. With a glance skyward, he nodded to himself, and then waddled forward.

  They followed him to the end of the street, to the square where it intersected with a main thoroughfare.

  Gal dropped Alex in the middle of the square.

  “What are you doing?” hissed Grant.

  Gal tore the cloth, pulling it roughly from Alex’s body. “Let them find him,” he grunted. He tore Alex’s shirt, laying him facedown to be sure the barcodes on his neck and arms and the lines of dark procedural marks couldn’t be missed. “You want to make sure they’re at least slowed down as they try to find us — cause mass hysteria in the folk. An Augment in the centre of the city will do that.”

  He cast a scowl at a mark on an otherwise empty wall. Then he ran back, pushing through them, back the way they came.

  “Where are we going?” Luca wrapped an ark across Rayne shoulders, limping beside her.

  Gal shook his head. “Away.”

  “Wait,” Urubane said, his deep guttural voice calm. “Take the alley.”

  “We’re too far from the fence.”

  “The third door on this alley leads to a basement. There is a tunnel. It is how we came for you.”

  Rayne looked between the two men, Gal considering Urubane’s offer. “You told us not to go back. You would kill us.”

  “There are many exits. What choice do you have?”

  The buzzing of drones caught their attention, and a single drone appeared at the opening of the alley into the street. It paused, its mechanical eye searching. It twitched visibly the moment it recognized there was a group of people, and flew towards them.

  Gal swore again. He started running towards it.

  “Where are you going, Galiant?” Urubane called after him.

  “Can’t let it see your tunnel. Go. I’ll distract it.”

  Rayne’s heart leapt into her throat as he ran away from them.

  The drone jerked to the side, smashing into the wall and shattering.

  “Run!” Grant screamed.

  Rayne stared at the shattered drone, Gal making a quick turn where he was only halfway to the machine. The drone just smashed itself. The Gods truly were on their side — there was no other explanation.

  “Come on,” Gal panted as he ran past, grabbing her arm and pulling her. He did the same for Sarrin, who stood alone in the alley staring at the drone. The others ran ahead, but Rayne caught Urubane looking back, frowning at Sarrin.

  Luca threw open the door, and they clattered down the stairs to a small apartment.

  “Move that,” Urubane said.

  Grant and Sarrin pushed an old sofa, a bloody handprint left on the plastic. Beneath was a trap door and Urubane quickly swung it open.

  Luca tugged on Rayne, pulling and pushing her into the dark hole.

  Urubane came down the ladder last, using his hands and one good leg. He swung the trap door shut, casting them into complete darkness.

  A hand reached for Rayne, guiding her forward in the pitch black.

  “What are these patterns?” asked Grant.

  Urubane’s voice rose in surprise. “You can see them?”

  Rayne frowned, squinting as she looked around. There were no symbols, just blackness.

  “Yeah,” said Luca beside her.

  “They’re symbols,” Urubane answered. “Prayers.”

  “For what?”

  “Protection, mostly.”

  Rayne touched her five fingers to her chest and prayed. For Strength, for Fortitude, Knowledge, Prudence, and above all, Faith.

  They walked for what felt like hours.

  Slowly, a dim light lit up the blackness ahead. They ran to the end of the tunnel, where the faintest light poured in through a small opening in the ceiling.

  Grant and Gal clasped hands, boosting Rayne out of the tunnel, and she scrabbled briefly on the thick dirt and grass before pulling herself out. Fresh air invaded her nostrils, and she looked around to see the thick trunks of trees in the early morning light.

  “The forest?” Gal said, turning on Urubane. “I thought you were taking us somewhere else in the city. You told us never to come back here.”

  Urubane leaned against a tree, all his weight on one leg as he reached for the injured one. He panted slightly, wincing. “The trees already know of your arrival. They will tell the others.”

  “What?” Gal turned back to the tunnel entrance, preparing to drop inside. “You brought us here so they could kill us.”

  Urubane slumped down to the ground, shaking his head. “No.” He stared blankly at the ground. “I was wrong. You will be protected. Ruel spoke truth, and gave her life for these” — he gestured his hand vaguely at the three Augments. “There is honour in them. And you have protected me from a fate worse than death. For this I owe you all I can give. Besides, I've seen what the skinny one can do. She must speak with the Agada.”

  THIRTEEN

  KIERAN SLOSHED HIS ARM ANGRILY through the blue healing gel. He was confined to the tank, useless. He’d been out for a couple hours earlier and already his skin was cracked and sore.

  Hoepe ran a handheld scanner over him. “Try to calm down. I’m going to have enough to worry about without you developing a cardiac arrhythmia.”

  “Sorry,” said Kieran, but it came out like a growl.

  Hoepe’s hand paused. “This
isn’t my fault, you know.”

  “No, I know. I’m sorry.” Kieran sighed. “I just — I need to move. I can’t sit here doing nothing all day.”

  Hoepe shrugged. “Your body needs to heal.”

  Kieran sighed again, forcing himself to sit still and bring his heart rate down while Hoepe completed his scans.

  Hoepe nodded at the read out, satisfied, and turned to leave.

  “Wait,” said Kieran.

  “I don’t believe more pain medication is the answer.”

  “No,” Kieran shook his head. He didn’t need meds, he just needed to feel useful, part of something. “Hey, how are things with you?”

  Hoepe glanced around the bridge. It was quiet. Even though they were about to infiltrate another planet, there were no Augments crowded around, pulling on combat gear and preparing for a major confrontation. No, most of them were probably down in the infirmary, helping the other rescued Augments or preparing for the incoming batch. Only a few would go down to the surface, just enough to load the transport that Cordelia provided and sit with them on the way back to the ship.

  “The Augments we have rescued so far are stable. But I don’t know how many more we can help. We didn’t find enough supplies at either of the outposts, and Cordelia can only make so much. Understandably, she is reluctant to get too intertwined with their bodies, so the treatment is just enough to keep them alive.”

  It occurred to Kieran that Hoepe might feel as useless as he did having as much trouble as he was. He started to say it, but Hoepe blurted out, “I’ve been trying to understand Leove better.”

  “Oh?”

  Hoepe glanced around the bridge again and then leaned back against the console, facing Kieran. His face had lost its hard calculation, replaced by something very much like sadness. A console light flashed and a sound pinged across the bridge, followed by the announcement of their arrival at the most recent grey dust ball they were visiting. Hoepe’s face hardened again. “I have to go prepare. It will only be a few minutes before they are brought up.” He strode away quickly, leaving Kieran behind, trapped in his blue tank.

  He sighed, and watched the display Cordelia kept running for him. An empty UEC base, a prison full of weak, emaciated, and sometimes unconscious Augments. Unbeatable, fierce warriors reduced to nothing by the mere absence of food and water.

 

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