Guess what?! It’s that time again! The entries from the 2nd-ever RPGC are in, and we’ve got an awesome bunch this time around! The task of reviewing may be a bit less daunting this time, but it’s still just as important!
Please go here to review voting and review guidelines. I know, I know, you’ve done this before, you know all those rules. Humor me.
Just a couple of things before the entries are revealed.
1: A lot of authors have put in amazing quantities of effort into composing their pieces. But they cannot grow as authors without feedback. THIS IS WHERE YOU, YES YOU! CAN HELP!! Seriously, though. The reviews are probably the most beneficial part of this contest. Any input that you can provide will be immensely appreciated.
2: This time around, we’re trying something NEW! Entries have been posted, to the author’s request, as either anonymous or “nonymous” to encourage discussion. I encourage all of you to tag the authors of the entries that you are voting for.
As a reminder, please only post your votes and perhaps a brief explanation of why your vote went the way it did. The discussion thread (found here) will have quite the lively talk going.
Here we go!
by @Kurai Assassin
Delta Squad
"Welcome Initiate 4397 to Urban Warfare Version 11.191b. Before we begin we are going to go over some information about the game" said a voice.
"Urban Warfare is a Virtual Reality Expierence given to those wishing to join Delta squadron. This simulation is MMO meaning that there are atleast 20 people on the server you are about to join. each time a member dies they will be injected by a lethal nano toxin. this means the last 10 people alive are the members of Delta Squad. Your objective is simply to survive. you will be given the RPS 750. a weapon that only fires when its part of a pair within 1 meter of each other. to continue please state your name, gender and blood type."
"Ashley James. Female. O-" Ash said to the computer. she had been practicing for the examination for months now. she knew where the best places to find food were and knew how long she could go without being thirsty. when they sent Delta Squad back to reclaim earth they would be ready.
"thank you Ashley James. your Callsign is Phoenix. this is how other Members will be able to identify you and those watching will be able to know the survivors."
A Flash of white light blinded Ash as she was transported to an urban metropolis. the plant life had taken over most of the city and it gave it that post apocolyptic shine. Her mini-map shone up with a red dot behind her. she turned to see a man pointing a single pistol straight at her face.
"Sorry sunshine, i want this place more than you do." he said pulling the trigger. Click. Click click click. the gun wasnt firing. "shit the second one" Ash saw this as a oppurtunity, she quickly kicked the single gun from his hand and pulled her own from her case and fired point blank into his face. as he fell backwards Ashley shouted "Sorry but you shoulda learned nothin ever comes for free" and with that she walked over do his lifeless Avatar and put her boots heel through his face just for good measure. in the right hand corner of her vision a message popped up (Anthony Carmine KIA)
Her head began to feel light headed and her entire body became cold, Right now a Man, Someone she had grown up with had just been killed at the flick of the switch. She didnt know him personally but what would his wife, and kids be thinking.
Another message popped up in the corner (Phoenix Ahead by 1 point, Damian Spencer KIA) another person dead already, only 20 minutes had passed and already they were down to 18 people. Only 8 more to go she thought to herself, 8 left then the last of us can leave. she looked up towards the sky it was mid day so she had enough time to scout for food and water, but she had better get moving quick.
She began to run toward the nearest building, if this was anything like her simulations, then the best place to look would be appartment buidings or Stores. this unfortunately was a DIY store,'Ikea' she'd never heard of it. maybe it was one of the old stores that she had read about in history classes. She had hoped maybe there would be hammers or saws or even an axe but it was filled with furniture, maybe she could use the wood as a fuel for a fire later.
After breaking most of the furniture into just wood and placing it in her backpack she made her way back out of the store only to hit in the face with something and being knocked unconcious.
She came to many ours later, at a camp which contained 6 other recruits. it was likely that they had planned to kill her to take her out of the recruitment process, but for some reason they had kept her alive. it was strange what could they possibly need her for. another ten minutes had passed before a man in a black army uniform actually left the group and came to talk to her. "How you doing princess, now your gonna do us a favour and give us your stuff and we'll let you live. but if you aint gonna cooperate then your gonna have to go" The guy said coming in closer towards her face, Ashley rolled her eyes and then proceeded to spit in his face. The guy wiped his face and slapped her, leaving a red hand mark across her face. turning back she kicked him in between his legs and stole his knife from his belt. she cut the ropes from her wrist and then returned to knife to its respectable owner, but in between his sholder blades killing him. she grabbed her guns of the wood stump next to her and turned to the others.
"now i think your gonna drop your guns or you will end up like this guy here" she shouted as another message popped up (Benjamin Carmine KIA, Phoenix ahead by 2 points) as shot rang out and Ash felt something hit her chest. she pulled up her own weapon and fired into the 5 remaining killers, 4 found their mark and the other missed (Isaac Green, Simon Delgado, Kirt Smith and Jayme Nixson KIA, Quadruple Kill by Phoenix.) By this point she no longer cared who lived and who died as long as she got out. Another Shot rang out and she screamed in agony. she had been hit again but this time in the leg. she fell to the floor and dropped a gun into the bushes. a woman came close to her, Ash drew her gun but it just cliked (warning this weapon is not close to a partner. it shall not fire until it is close) the woman stuck her face closer to Ashleys.
"Awww whats the matter now love, ran out of bullets" the woman said drawing her knife. she got closer to Ashley and stabbed the knife into the bullet wound in her leg, She screamed as the blade pierced more muscle. he gun glowed green, it was close enough to another weapon now, she drew it and fired 3 times at point blank range and and the woman fell face first onto Ashley. 2 messages now popped up on the HUD ( Alex Dirks KIA, Matt Stevens KIA) it stayed there then another 3 popped up (Shawn and Mike Johns KIA, Game over) she was transported back to the real world. It was Strange the simulation should have ended at 10 people left but now there was 8. Atleast she had survived though.
Atleast she was part of Delta Squad.
All characters used in this piece are not based on real people. however fictional characters and their franchises belong to their respectable owners. some themes from this piece may be borrowed and tweaked from other TV,Movie or Video Game Franchises
Delta Squad
"Welcome Initiate 4397 to Urban Warfare Version 11.191b. Before we begin we are going to go over some information about the game" said a voice.
"Urban Warfare is a Virtual Reality Expierence given to those wishing to join Delta squadron. This simulation is MMO meaning that there are atleast 20 people on the server you are about to join. each time a member dies they will be injected by a lethal nano toxin. this means the last 10 people alive are the members of Delta Squad. Your objective is simply to survive. you will be given the RPS 750. a weapon that only fires when its part of a pair within 1 meter of each other. to continue please state your name, gender and blood type."
"Ashley James. Female. O-" Ash said to the computer. she had been practicing for the examination for months now. she knew where the best places to find food were and knew how long she could go without being thirsty. when they sent Delta Squad back to reclaim earth they would be ready.
"thank you Ashley James. your Callsign is Phoenix. this is how other Members will be able to identify you and those watching will be able to know the survivors."
A Flash of white light blinded Ash as she was transported to an urban metropolis. the plant life had taken over most of the city and it gave it that post apocolyptic shine. Her mini-map shone up with a red dot behind her. she turned to see a man pointing a single pistol straight at her face.
"Sorry sunshine, i want this place more than you do." he said pulling the trigger. Click. Click click click. the gun wasnt firing. "shit the second one" Ash saw this as a oppurtunity, she quickly kicked the single gun from his hand and pulled her own from her case and fired point blank into his face. as he fell backwards Ashley shouted "Sorry but you shoulda learned nothin ever comes for free" and with that she walked over do his lifeless Avatar and put her boots heel through his face just for good measure. in the right hand corner of her vision a message popped up (Anthony Carmine KIA)
Her head began to feel light headed and her entire body became cold, Right now a Man, Someone she had grown up with had just been killed at the flick of the switch. She didnt know him personally but what would his wife, and kids be thinking.
Another message popped up in the corner (Phoenix Ahead by 1 point, Damian Spencer KIA) another person dead already, only 20 minutes had passed and already they were down to 18 people. Only 8 more to go she thought to herself, 8 left then the last of us can leave. she looked up towards the sky it was mid day so she had enough time to scout for food and water, but she had better get moving quick.
She began to run toward the nearest building, if this was anything like her simulations, then the best place to look would be appartment buidings or Stores. this unfortunately was a DIY store,'Ikea' she'd never heard of it. maybe it was one of the old stores that she had read about in history classes. She had hoped maybe there would be hammers or saws or even an axe but it was filled with furniture, maybe she could use the wood as a fuel for a fire later.
After breaking most of the furniture into just wood and placing it in her backpack she made her way back out of the store only to hit in the face with something and being knocked unconcious.
She came to many ours later, at a camp which contained 6 other recruits. it was likely that they had planned to kill her to take her out of the recruitment process, but for some reason they had kept her alive. it was strange what could they possibly need her for. another ten minutes had passed before a man in a black army uniform actually left the group and came to talk to her. "How you doing princess, now your gonna do us a favour and give us your stuff and we'll let you live. but if you aint gonna cooperate then your gonna have to go" The guy said coming in closer towards her face, Ashley rolled her eyes and then proceeded to spit in his face. The guy wiped his face and slapped her, leaving a red hand mark across her face. turning back she kicked him in between his legs and stole his knife from his belt. she cut the ropes from her wrist and then returned to knife to its respectable owner, but in between his sholder blades killing him. she grabbed her guns of the wood stump next to her and turned to the others.
"now i think your gonna drop your guns or you will end up like this guy here" she shouted as another message popped up (Benjamin Carmine KIA, Phoenix ahead by 2 points) as shot rang out and Ash felt something hit her chest. she pulled up her own weapon and fired into the 5 remaining killers, 4 found their mark and the other missed (Isaac Green, Simon Delgado, Kirt Smith and Jayme Nixson KIA, Quadruple Kill by Phoenix.) By this point she no longer cared who lived and who died as long as she got out. Another Shot rang out and she screamed in agony. she had been hit again but this time in the leg. she fell to the floor and dropped a gun into the bushes. a woman came close to her, Ash drew her gun but it just cliked (warning this weapon is not close to a partner. it shall not fire until it is close) the woman stuck her face closer to Ashleys.
"Awww whats the matter now love, ran out of bullets" the woman said drawing her knife. she got closer to Ashley and stabbed the knife into the bullet wound in her leg, She screamed as the blade pierced more muscle. he gun glowed green, it was close enough to another weapon now, she drew it and fired 3 times at point blank range and and the woman fell face first onto Ashley. 2 messages now popped up on the HUD ( Alex Dirks KIA, Matt Stevens KIA) it stayed there then another 3 popped up (Shawn and Mike Johns KIA, Game over) she was transported back to the real world. It was Strange the simulation should have ended at 10 people left but now there was 8. Atleast she had survived though.
Atleast she was part of Delta Squad.
by @Psyga315
Leading a town was hard.
Leading a town without power was harder.
This was the truth that I had to discover when the power went out over at my town. It just seemed so sudden though. One minute everything had electricity flowing, the next, everything went out. It just seemed too coincidental. It was an inconvenience though. I just had to restore power. An easy feat when your body has been genetically altered to shoot lightning from your fingertips.
I flew off from my home office towards the power plant. It was an easier feat when your body’s also altered to fly. During my trip to the power plant, I began to think back to how I came into power of the small Russian town.
----
It was just days after I had a falling out with my brother. I could remember the smell of burning flesh and concrete as I saw German soldiers invade a Russian property. People screamed and cried at the brutality of the forces as they gunned down people in the dozens. I kept my altitude up and fired a bolt at the sergeant. A crack of thunder scared the soldiers, with the sergeant having a too little, too late response. As soon as he dropped dead, many of the soldiers retreated.
“MEIN GOTT!” I could understand only that part of German dialogue, as it was an often-repeated phrase during my tour. I smirked.
“Yeah, plead for my mercy.” I thought as the Germans scurried away from me. I even pointed my fingers at any soldier who saw me, though I just liked to scare them like that. Remind them who the bigger fish is. When the Germans cleared out, I landed on the Russian soil. During my time in the first war, I worked with Russian soldiers, so I was able to speak the language.
“Hello. Are you guys okay?” I asked a cowering group of people. They shook their head.
“N… no. They killed our mayor!” One of them said. I could see the Russians grieve for their fallen friends and family now that the constant threat of death was gone. I dug his nails into the palm of my hand as I saw a mother weeping into her child’s bloody chest. One of the civilians bowed before me.
“Thank you! We owe you our lives! We’ll give you anything!” The Russian said to me. One more look at the grieving mother was enough to make me think of one thing.
“Make me mayor, and I shall protect you from the Germans and so much more.” I said to them. The group discussed this for a while. It took a few days before they agreed to the terms. It helped that I spent those days protecting them from the ensuing German attacks. In time, they made me the mayor of the small town.
----
I counted my blessings during this flight. Among the gifts I was given, I also gained the gift of reduced aging. Whereas I had seen this town bloom and blossom for twenty years, I felt like I had grown just a year. I have experienced a lot over these past years. Among these was the Cold War. Many tensions arose as people began to fear the oncoming end of days. Part of me just wanted to go over and slap both parties silly for even considering dooming innocents to a nuclear holocaust, but another part of me didn’t.
I knew that no one would wish to repeat the horrors of war willingly. Only a lunatic would invite such a war upon himself. Only a man with a death wish would desire war. For all the hype it generated, the name ‘Cold War’ fitted the nature of being a stalemate between two superpowers. Finally, I found the power plant. It had seen better days, for sure. I landed and entered the facility.
I looked around. It seemed empty. Dark. Dank. Every step I made on the steel grate bridge made an echo. When I got a foot into the plant, I saw the motionless generator. With a flick of my wrists, lightning bolts flew from my fingers and entered the generator. A loud hum came from the generator as it began to power up. I could have heard a shout, but I didn’t listen well due to the noise. When I turned around, a bat met my face and I was knocked out.
----
When I woke up, I felt restricted. I looked around and saw that rope tied my hands to the arms of a wooden chair. I looked at my captors. They were two Russian teenagers. One had blond hair and blue eyes, the other black hair with brown eyes. Both male.
“Hey, look at that! We captured the mayor!” The blond-haired teen said.
“Yeah! Can’t believe that plan worked!” The black-haired teen, slightly younger than the other, said.
“W-what are you doing?” I asked. My own men had betrayed me. They wounded me. Tied me up. Why did they do this after I have done so much for them?
“Oh shut it, capitalist! We knew why you stepped in as mayor now!” The blond teen said.
“Yeah! You’re nothin’ but a damned plant!” The black-haired teen whacked me in the face with a baseball bat.
“I… I led you all through hard times… and this… this is how you repay me?” I spat out a bit of blood to the side.
“We’d rather be led by someone of our own nationality, thank you very much.” The blond teen said. The black-haired teen tipped my chair over and knocked me down. He continued to batter me.
“DIRTY! STINKING! CAPITALIST!” He said as he beat his aluminum bat onto me. As I began to think of this as the end, I thought back to my brother’s offer of living a normal life. I thought back to my refusal. I wondered now if I had made the right choice in setting out to live life as a mayor. It was, after all, a spur of the moment idea.
I thought back to that grieving mother. How, while I had the powers of a divine smiter, I lacked the power to save a small child. I became mayor, hoping that the power from running the office would, at least, help ensure that people wouldn’t be killed. However, it was now that I realized the one mistake I made:
Humanity will never learn from their mistakes. Paranoia and fear are just contributing factors to the horrors that I had suffered. In time, these two teens will let their suspicions overwhelm them. If they’re willing to beat up a mayor on little to no evidence, who else would they go after? I had to stop them. I bent one of my fingers to point at the rope and zapped it with a small electrical bolt.
As soon as my hand was free, I grabbed the bat and sent a few shocks to it. Not enough to fry him, but just enough to get him to drop the bat. I untied the other rope, got up and had my hands crackle with electricity. The black-haired teen cowered and backed into a wall. I looked over to the blond, who shivered in his boots. I set my hands to my sides as the static from my fingers stopped. I looked to them.
“You’re right. You need someone of your own nation to lead.” I told them. Part of me felt a rush that I never had before when I looked to them. Power. Raw. Absolute. Power. I have experienced this when I was first empowered with my electricity, but now was the moment where I felt a surge of being able to dictate what others should do.
If I wanted to, I would have killed those two and outside of a few concerned parents and friends, no one would really care or wonder where they went. I could even tell them that they just skipped town or leaped off to their doom and they’d believe me. It was in that moment that I realized that this isn’t the kind of power I want to have. I turned around and prepared to leave.
“W-what?! You’re givin’ up like that?” The teen I didn’t shock asked.
“No. I’m stepping down and letting someone who’d be better responsible take my place. I’d elect you, but you’re a minor.” I told him. I walked out.
----
Throughout the next few days, I stalked the city. People spoke of my disappearance. Some missed me, others were apathetic towards it. A new mayor stepped in and like I had thought, she did a better job at managing the city than I did. Perhaps she’ll get adjusted to the power she has.
Though, as I thought that, I also thought what’d happen if she liked her power too much. I’m definitely not the first person to have thought of the possibilities of being able to do whatever you want. I wonder if that’s why all those wars have started. Was it because those maniacs and death seekers really wanted to have power in their grasps?
I thought back to my battle with my brother. He managed to beat some sense into me. Sense that I did not know of until today. My powers are not to be used for intimidation or as a free ride. If I did that, I’d be no better than the people who made me suffer in those wars in the first place. I won’t use my powers to rule over all.
Instead, I will use these powers to stop those who would drive fear into the hearts of humanity. I flew off into the sky, unsure of what to find or who to fight. But I have realized my purpose now. I knew what I can do with this power:
To ensure the others don’t abuse theirs.
Leading a town was hard.
Leading a town without power was harder.
This was the truth that I had to discover when the power went out over at my town. It just seemed so sudden though. One minute everything had electricity flowing, the next, everything went out. It just seemed too coincidental. It was an inconvenience though. I just had to restore power. An easy feat when your body has been genetically altered to shoot lightning from your fingertips.
I flew off from my home office towards the power plant. It was an easier feat when your body’s also altered to fly. During my trip to the power plant, I began to think back to how I came into power of the small Russian town.
----
It was just days after I had a falling out with my brother. I could remember the smell of burning flesh and concrete as I saw German soldiers invade a Russian property. People screamed and cried at the brutality of the forces as they gunned down people in the dozens. I kept my altitude up and fired a bolt at the sergeant. A crack of thunder scared the soldiers, with the sergeant having a too little, too late response. As soon as he dropped dead, many of the soldiers retreated.
“MEIN GOTT!” I could understand only that part of German dialogue, as it was an often-repeated phrase during my tour. I smirked.
“Yeah, plead for my mercy.” I thought as the Germans scurried away from me. I even pointed my fingers at any soldier who saw me, though I just liked to scare them like that. Remind them who the bigger fish is. When the Germans cleared out, I landed on the Russian soil. During my time in the first war, I worked with Russian soldiers, so I was able to speak the language.
“Hello. Are you guys okay?” I asked a cowering group of people. They shook their head.
“N… no. They killed our mayor!” One of them said. I could see the Russians grieve for their fallen friends and family now that the constant threat of death was gone. I dug his nails into the palm of my hand as I saw a mother weeping into her child’s bloody chest. One of the civilians bowed before me.
“Thank you! We owe you our lives! We’ll give you anything!” The Russian said to me. One more look at the grieving mother was enough to make me think of one thing.
“Make me mayor, and I shall protect you from the Germans and so much more.” I said to them. The group discussed this for a while. It took a few days before they agreed to the terms. It helped that I spent those days protecting them from the ensuing German attacks. In time, they made me the mayor of the small town.
----
I counted my blessings during this flight. Among the gifts I was given, I also gained the gift of reduced aging. Whereas I had seen this town bloom and blossom for twenty years, I felt like I had grown just a year. I have experienced a lot over these past years. Among these was the Cold War. Many tensions arose as people began to fear the oncoming end of days. Part of me just wanted to go over and slap both parties silly for even considering dooming innocents to a nuclear holocaust, but another part of me didn’t.
I knew that no one would wish to repeat the horrors of war willingly. Only a lunatic would invite such a war upon himself. Only a man with a death wish would desire war. For all the hype it generated, the name ‘Cold War’ fitted the nature of being a stalemate between two superpowers. Finally, I found the power plant. It had seen better days, for sure. I landed and entered the facility.
I looked around. It seemed empty. Dark. Dank. Every step I made on the steel grate bridge made an echo. When I got a foot into the plant, I saw the motionless generator. With a flick of my wrists, lightning bolts flew from my fingers and entered the generator. A loud hum came from the generator as it began to power up. I could have heard a shout, but I didn’t listen well due to the noise. When I turned around, a bat met my face and I was knocked out.
----
When I woke up, I felt restricted. I looked around and saw that rope tied my hands to the arms of a wooden chair. I looked at my captors. They were two Russian teenagers. One had blond hair and blue eyes, the other black hair with brown eyes. Both male.
“Hey, look at that! We captured the mayor!” The blond-haired teen said.
“Yeah! Can’t believe that plan worked!” The black-haired teen, slightly younger than the other, said.
“W-what are you doing?” I asked. My own men had betrayed me. They wounded me. Tied me up. Why did they do this after I have done so much for them?
“Oh shut it, capitalist! We knew why you stepped in as mayor now!” The blond teen said.
“Yeah! You’re nothin’ but a damned plant!” The black-haired teen whacked me in the face with a baseball bat.
“I… I led you all through hard times… and this… this is how you repay me?” I spat out a bit of blood to the side.
“We’d rather be led by someone of our own nationality, thank you very much.” The blond teen said. The black-haired teen tipped my chair over and knocked me down. He continued to batter me.
“DIRTY! STINKING! CAPITALIST!” He said as he beat his aluminum bat onto me. As I began to think of this as the end, I thought back to my brother’s offer of living a normal life. I thought back to my refusal. I wondered now if I had made the right choice in setting out to live life as a mayor. It was, after all, a spur of the moment idea.
I thought back to that grieving mother. How, while I had the powers of a divine smiter, I lacked the power to save a small child. I became mayor, hoping that the power from running the office would, at least, help ensure that people wouldn’t be killed. However, it was now that I realized the one mistake I made:
Humanity will never learn from their mistakes. Paranoia and fear are just contributing factors to the horrors that I had suffered. In time, these two teens will let their suspicions overwhelm them. If they’re willing to beat up a mayor on little to no evidence, who else would they go after? I had to stop them. I bent one of my fingers to point at the rope and zapped it with a small electrical bolt.
As soon as my hand was free, I grabbed the bat and sent a few shocks to it. Not enough to fry him, but just enough to get him to drop the bat. I untied the other rope, got up and had my hands crackle with electricity. The black-haired teen cowered and backed into a wall. I looked over to the blond, who shivered in his boots. I set my hands to my sides as the static from my fingers stopped. I looked to them.
“You’re right. You need someone of your own nation to lead.” I told them. Part of me felt a rush that I never had before when I looked to them. Power. Raw. Absolute. Power. I have experienced this when I was first empowered with my electricity, but now was the moment where I felt a surge of being able to dictate what others should do.
If I wanted to, I would have killed those two and outside of a few concerned parents and friends, no one would really care or wonder where they went. I could even tell them that they just skipped town or leaped off to their doom and they’d believe me. It was in that moment that I realized that this isn’t the kind of power I want to have. I turned around and prepared to leave.
“W-what?! You’re givin’ up like that?” The teen I didn’t shock asked.
“No. I’m stepping down and letting someone who’d be better responsible take my place. I’d elect you, but you’re a minor.” I told him. I walked out.
----
Throughout the next few days, I stalked the city. People spoke of my disappearance. Some missed me, others were apathetic towards it. A new mayor stepped in and like I had thought, she did a better job at managing the city than I did. Perhaps she’ll get adjusted to the power she has.
Though, as I thought that, I also thought what’d happen if she liked her power too much. I’m definitely not the first person to have thought of the possibilities of being able to do whatever you want. I wonder if that’s why all those wars have started. Was it because those maniacs and death seekers really wanted to have power in their grasps?
I thought back to my battle with my brother. He managed to beat some sense into me. Sense that I did not know of until today. My powers are not to be used for intimidation or as a free ride. If I did that, I’d be no better than the people who made me suffer in those wars in the first place. I won’t use my powers to rule over all.
Instead, I will use these powers to stop those who would drive fear into the hearts of humanity. I flew off into the sky, unsure of what to find or who to fight. But I have realized my purpose now. I knew what I can do with this power:
To ensure the others don’t abuse theirs.
Growing up as a child, I always dreamt of having some kind of power like any child. Whether it was the ability to fling fire, the chance to wield the deepest cold with magnificent prowess, or to gain wings and take to the freedom of the skies like an aviary sort. Looking back with years of cynical wisdom now gained through the trials and tribulations of life, the sorrow, heartbreak, and triumphs alike; I no longer wish for such a childish thing, not anymore.
I wish for something simpler in terms of power, though as meager as it might seem.
I am incessantly skeptical of politicians, and even more skeptical of religion and its purposes. As I gain in age, I see both the former and the latter more desperate by the moment to wield a form of control over the masses. Undoubtedly this is form of power in itself, but I resisted it, I am free of it. While I utterly despise both the infested institution that government has become, I also spitefully loathe the amoral monstrosity that organized faith has turned into.
To me, putting one’s faith into a higher power and using it as a reason for inaction while countless others suffer is as corrupt as a politician receiving ‘gifts’ from special interest groups. Saying that those who are starving and dying abroad are in one’s ‘prayers’ is almost purely the definition of apathetic.
Yet both of these pillars of distinct power and often neurotic purpose are not things I desire to have the power to eliminate. Such things are too short sighted, as human beings suffer a particular absolute. Not so much as others often joke about, being such trivial things as Death and Taxes; (though they are both absolutes, no doubt) but instead the constant fact that those in absolute power will be absolutely corrupt.
History repeats itself in this mantra, time and time again. So eliminating those two bastions of power will do nothing at all, new rats will replace them. Idealists will be cast aside for populist and sensationalist divisiveness, in the thought that instead of doing what is good for the people, they will do what is good for themselves…and their pocketbooks. Unity is a truly impossible concept to believe, especially since so many oft identify themselves in a manner that constantly separates themselves from others.
Ignorance reigns in two particular forms.
“I am a Liberal.”
“I am a Conservative!”
It is through this divisiveness that others maintain their stranglehold on power. But little else needs be said about that. Those definitions of power of control aside, the one I wish for is simple. Devastatingly simple. And I’ll define why now.
It was a simple afternoon in the midst of October when she woke.
The shrill scream of an alarm clock announcing the demise of her fitful slumber was abruptly silenced by the strike of a weary hand. Shifting in the seemingly amorphous blankets that kept her temptingly warm rose a young woman in her early twenties. Rubbing the exhaustion from her eyes from the sleepiness the day prior had wrought. Sitting up slowly while tilting her head to avoid the horizontal beam that steadfastly held the bunk bed mattress that was above her, her half lidded eyes met a mostly blackened room.
Outside of the thin trails of sunlight that crept through the room, she was alone. Standing slowly, the woman rose to inspect the thin cracks of light that had intruded upon her slumber closely. Having duct taped the windows to help filter out any light from invasion already once, it seemed that she would need to steal something from the supply store to completely cover it.
She had always held some difficulty sleeping when the environment wasn’t already pitch black darkness.
This was the beginning of a routine; that was how she lived. A series of constant routines. Wake up, find towel and change of uniform, venture to the shower; take a ten-minute shower, rinse one last time for good measure. Brush teeth, two minutes on top and bottom; timed of course. Deodorant. Apply scant amounts of makeup if the day called for it, it didn’t make sense to apply as much as if she were home. Some could be oil-based; oil-based cover-up was flammable, the last thing she desired was to become Harley Dent.
A morbid joke to start the day, a quiet laugh as the hot water ran a straight course down the length of her back. That too was part of the standard routine. Laughter helps her cope, after all.
After that, the next step would be to run a brush through her unruly red hair. Always scowl at the bloody thing if it snagged, sigh in satisfaction however as it all came tightly drawn to the back of her head in a neat bun. Don the flat-topped multi-cam cap, jokingly wink at self in the mirror, and then don the rest of her clothing. Undergarments first, multi-cam pants, boots…always blouse the boots so that the legs stopped just short of the upper edge of her footwear. Then the shirt, tuck it into her pants, draw the belt tight.
Put on the multi-cam blouse then, zip it up, insure that the Velcro fastened properly on all pockets and inner linings. Lastly, double check that the tourniquet is on the right shoulder, and the tab is on display.
Like every day, a loud rapping of knuckles on her door announced the presence of a visitor.
“OI! Hawkins! Open up! You’ve got convoy detail today, you volunteered, remember?!” Came a familiar voice, a coworker, perhaps a friend. Though she was uncertain of the latter, people always came and went in short bursts of time. Two, three months or less. Forming connections with others seemed pointless and irrelevant. People either came here and left quickly, or died here. There was no in-between.
Hefting a pistol and attaching the holster to her belt while the gun itself came to a rest on her thigh, she fastened the buckles that held it fast to her leg and she opened the door. Tired blue eyes met ever energetic brown as the door creaked open.
“C’mon, gear up. You have a brief to get to!”
Her eyes widened sharply, spinning about in her room and putting on the hefty body armor and ceramic plates that she had been issued the day before. Turning her hat backwards so that the bill rested upon her bun of crimson hair, the young woman propped a Kevlar helmet decorated in camouflage upon her head. Gloves came fastened tight, her fingertips stretching just slightly, curling and opening, testing their flexibility and tactile touch.
Last came a bag, which weight a fair amount and held a particular symbol upon it. A subdued, worn, and weathered red cross. A Medic’s Bag. That was her occupation, her purpose. The reason why she lived by such a routine.
Hurrying past her compatriot and running lightly despite the cumbersome equipment, she stepped outside from the dimmed hallway into the brightly lit outdoors. There standing in a disorganized group was a handful of fatigued men and women in front of a row of several vehicles. Others looked at her, others ignored her. She didn’t quite fit in with the collective as per usual. The sound of footsteps with a mark of haste behind them caused the group to fall into a long line beside the heavily armored vehicles, and she followed suit.
When in Rome…
Not long after the line tightly formed, a man with a singular black bar rising vertically on his forehead walked past the row and yelled a simple command.
“AT EASE.”
The tension from the shoulders of many faded, leading her to do the same.
“We are heading out on a goddamn convoy patrol today. Intel states we won’t be running into anything that’ll trouble us greatly. Keep your head up, keep your eyes open and watch the fuck out for those motherfucking IEDs. Understood?”
A resounding “YES, SIR!” Resounded from the mouths of many.
“Hawkins, you’re with the goddamn fifth vehicle. Riding shotgun with me. Welcome to my Company.” He added almost mechanically, looking over to the shorter woman with a light smirk on his face. “Keep my people alive, is that fucking understood?”
As steadfastly as she could manage, she responded with a resolute, “Yes, sir.”
In a cloud of dust, metal and lead, the convoy of seven stretched outward from the gate as they departed. Atop each vehicle, a turret armed with a heavy caliber machine gun rotated about while the company rumbled along the rickety dirt road. Drawing further and further into the afternoon, the Patrol began to head back to the secure base while the final hours of daylight began to tick downward. Looking out the window of her vehicle as clouds of dust and dirt continued to waft past, she noticed something odd.
There was a movement.
“Sir-!”
Before she could even get another word out from her lips, the world around her shattered. The first vehicle in the convoy took a direct hit from an explosion that lifted the multi-ton vehicle several feet into the air before bringing it crashing into the earth. So powerful was this explosion, that even five vehicles back, the windshield cracked and snapped as heated shrapnel perforated the it like Swiss Cheese.
No longer was there time to think, no longer was there time to scream, yell, shout or cry. There was only time for instinct. Kicking her door open, the Medic hit the ground hard as the peppering of gunfire from the distance ruptured outward. Cries of other soldiers rallying against the oncoming gunfire were soon drowned out by the sound of heavy caliber machine gun fire in support of killing and suppressing their enemies.
They didn’t matter. Not yet.
What only mattered was that she got to the twisted heap of metal that had once been a vehicle. Darting progressively from one vehicle to the next while bullets hissed through the air around her head, it took her far longer than she’d like as she neared the wreck. They were getting closer, people needed her help, and she was more than determined to get there.
“MENDEZ. PLATTER, HELP HAWKINS GET THE FUCKING BODIES OUT. MOVE IT.”
Just as she collided into the side of the partially destroyed truck, the young woman heard the Lieutenant’s order. Praying that she could get there in time to at least save one life. Though she couldn’t’ see how it was possible. Yet as she got help to pry the door open with a crowbar gifted by one of the other soldiers, the smoke-filled scene that greeted her was horrific.
Blood was everywhere, the two men who had been sitting in the back were either completely covered in third degree burns…and half of the other wasn’t even there. It was completely gone. He was dead and there was nothing she could do. But the other two in front looked as if they stood a chance to be saved.
“Mendez! Get the back door open! Platter! Help me get the corporal out of the driver seat. Now!”
With help, the Corporal Driver was pulled from the vehicle, and once this happened, the Private that had been sitting next to him woke up. She knew this by the screams of agony and panic as flickering orange began to form in the front of the vehicle. Fire…fire and gasoline never mixed well. Assessment of the Private revealed two horrific things. A large piece of metal was punched through even the femur on his right leg. He was losing blood fast. If she didn’t tourniquet that leg in the next few moments, he was going to die.
His right leg from the just above the knee down was only attached by a few strings of flesh and sinew.
She made a decision.
Pulling out her knife and diving into the vehicle, Hawkins cut through what little was held his leg together, grabbed the Private by the arm and shifted him so she could pull him by his shoulders. “HOLD ON!” She cried loudly, gripping him tightly with her much smaller frame she yanked him out of the vehicle. Together with Mendez, Platter, and the other two wounded men, they drag carried them to better cover behind a much more intact vehicle.
At long last, the gunfire ceased, leaving her in an eerie silence of running engines, sweat, and pissed off soldiers at a trio of dead Iraqi bodies.
There, the Medic went to work. Ordering the two uninjured men around, telling them what to do to treat for shock as she tied a tourniquet sharply around his amputated leg to reduce the loss of blood. Other injuries were pressured against, burns were treated as well as possible as the sound of helicopters approaching swiftly in the distance announced the trio’s salvation.
Once they were stabilized, the Medic sat back on her knees and looked at her handiwork, monitoring the three carefully while Platter and Mendez went and retrieved the KIA from the truck.
“Fucking Christ Hawkins. Patch yourself up.”
Bewilderedly, the girl looked up at the Lieutenant who bore a morbid smirk. “You caught a graze on the side of your neck from the shrapnel. Patch it up, now.”
With an expression of shock, she raised her hand to touch her neck, only to finally have the burning agony of pain come with sharpened realization as her hand came back to view covered in blood. Her blood. Digging into her own medical kit, she retrieved a set of Gauze and tightly pressed against the injury.
“Go with goddamn choppers. We’ve got help on the way. Sides, Mendez is a medic too. Thanks.”
She ran with the helo medics that arrived, helping them get the wounded on the litters, securing their heads to prevent any further neck injuries and the like. Not long after, they were lifted into the air once again, headed for a hospital. The entire way, she held the hand of the boy whose leg she had been forced to amputate in the field.
Guilt racked her soul.
Two men would live that day, one died instantly, the other died from his wounds.
She never saw any of them again. To this day, she has nightmares about them.
The power she wish she could have varies from time to time. Some days she wishes she could have had the eyes of a hawk to notice the three Insurgents earlier, or the roadside bomb that they hit. Other days, she wishes she had the power to run faster so she could have saved the burn victim too from further injury. Above all, she wishes she had the power to forget it all, and prevent it from ever happening to begin with.
Others may want to fly, freeze, or burn.
I simply wish I had the power to not remember.
Despite that, I will forever choose to charge across the field.
I wish for something simpler in terms of power, though as meager as it might seem.
I am incessantly skeptical of politicians, and even more skeptical of religion and its purposes. As I gain in age, I see both the former and the latter more desperate by the moment to wield a form of control over the masses. Undoubtedly this is form of power in itself, but I resisted it, I am free of it. While I utterly despise both the infested institution that government has become, I also spitefully loathe the amoral monstrosity that organized faith has turned into.
To me, putting one’s faith into a higher power and using it as a reason for inaction while countless others suffer is as corrupt as a politician receiving ‘gifts’ from special interest groups. Saying that those who are starving and dying abroad are in one’s ‘prayers’ is almost purely the definition of apathetic.
Yet both of these pillars of distinct power and often neurotic purpose are not things I desire to have the power to eliminate. Such things are too short sighted, as human beings suffer a particular absolute. Not so much as others often joke about, being such trivial things as Death and Taxes; (though they are both absolutes, no doubt) but instead the constant fact that those in absolute power will be absolutely corrupt.
History repeats itself in this mantra, time and time again. So eliminating those two bastions of power will do nothing at all, new rats will replace them. Idealists will be cast aside for populist and sensationalist divisiveness, in the thought that instead of doing what is good for the people, they will do what is good for themselves…and their pocketbooks. Unity is a truly impossible concept to believe, especially since so many oft identify themselves in a manner that constantly separates themselves from others.
Ignorance reigns in two particular forms.
“I am a Liberal.”
“I am a Conservative!”
It is through this divisiveness that others maintain their stranglehold on power. But little else needs be said about that. Those definitions of power of control aside, the one I wish for is simple. Devastatingly simple. And I’ll define why now.
It was a simple afternoon in the midst of October when she woke.
The shrill scream of an alarm clock announcing the demise of her fitful slumber was abruptly silenced by the strike of a weary hand. Shifting in the seemingly amorphous blankets that kept her temptingly warm rose a young woman in her early twenties. Rubbing the exhaustion from her eyes from the sleepiness the day prior had wrought. Sitting up slowly while tilting her head to avoid the horizontal beam that steadfastly held the bunk bed mattress that was above her, her half lidded eyes met a mostly blackened room.
Outside of the thin trails of sunlight that crept through the room, she was alone. Standing slowly, the woman rose to inspect the thin cracks of light that had intruded upon her slumber closely. Having duct taped the windows to help filter out any light from invasion already once, it seemed that she would need to steal something from the supply store to completely cover it.
She had always held some difficulty sleeping when the environment wasn’t already pitch black darkness.
This was the beginning of a routine; that was how she lived. A series of constant routines. Wake up, find towel and change of uniform, venture to the shower; take a ten-minute shower, rinse one last time for good measure. Brush teeth, two minutes on top and bottom; timed of course. Deodorant. Apply scant amounts of makeup if the day called for it, it didn’t make sense to apply as much as if she were home. Some could be oil-based; oil-based cover-up was flammable, the last thing she desired was to become Harley Dent.
A morbid joke to start the day, a quiet laugh as the hot water ran a straight course down the length of her back. That too was part of the standard routine. Laughter helps her cope, after all.
After that, the next step would be to run a brush through her unruly red hair. Always scowl at the bloody thing if it snagged, sigh in satisfaction however as it all came tightly drawn to the back of her head in a neat bun. Don the flat-topped multi-cam cap, jokingly wink at self in the mirror, and then don the rest of her clothing. Undergarments first, multi-cam pants, boots…always blouse the boots so that the legs stopped just short of the upper edge of her footwear. Then the shirt, tuck it into her pants, draw the belt tight.
Put on the multi-cam blouse then, zip it up, insure that the Velcro fastened properly on all pockets and inner linings. Lastly, double check that the tourniquet is on the right shoulder, and the tab is on display.
Like every day, a loud rapping of knuckles on her door announced the presence of a visitor.
“OI! Hawkins! Open up! You’ve got convoy detail today, you volunteered, remember?!” Came a familiar voice, a coworker, perhaps a friend. Though she was uncertain of the latter, people always came and went in short bursts of time. Two, three months or less. Forming connections with others seemed pointless and irrelevant. People either came here and left quickly, or died here. There was no in-between.
Hefting a pistol and attaching the holster to her belt while the gun itself came to a rest on her thigh, she fastened the buckles that held it fast to her leg and she opened the door. Tired blue eyes met ever energetic brown as the door creaked open.
“C’mon, gear up. You have a brief to get to!”
Her eyes widened sharply, spinning about in her room and putting on the hefty body armor and ceramic plates that she had been issued the day before. Turning her hat backwards so that the bill rested upon her bun of crimson hair, the young woman propped a Kevlar helmet decorated in camouflage upon her head. Gloves came fastened tight, her fingertips stretching just slightly, curling and opening, testing their flexibility and tactile touch.
Last came a bag, which weight a fair amount and held a particular symbol upon it. A subdued, worn, and weathered red cross. A Medic’s Bag. That was her occupation, her purpose. The reason why she lived by such a routine.
Hurrying past her compatriot and running lightly despite the cumbersome equipment, she stepped outside from the dimmed hallway into the brightly lit outdoors. There standing in a disorganized group was a handful of fatigued men and women in front of a row of several vehicles. Others looked at her, others ignored her. She didn’t quite fit in with the collective as per usual. The sound of footsteps with a mark of haste behind them caused the group to fall into a long line beside the heavily armored vehicles, and she followed suit.
When in Rome…
Not long after the line tightly formed, a man with a singular black bar rising vertically on his forehead walked past the row and yelled a simple command.
“AT EASE.”
The tension from the shoulders of many faded, leading her to do the same.
“We are heading out on a goddamn convoy patrol today. Intel states we won’t be running into anything that’ll trouble us greatly. Keep your head up, keep your eyes open and watch the fuck out for those motherfucking IEDs. Understood?”
A resounding “YES, SIR!” Resounded from the mouths of many.
“Hawkins, you’re with the goddamn fifth vehicle. Riding shotgun with me. Welcome to my Company.” He added almost mechanically, looking over to the shorter woman with a light smirk on his face. “Keep my people alive, is that fucking understood?”
As steadfastly as she could manage, she responded with a resolute, “Yes, sir.”
In a cloud of dust, metal and lead, the convoy of seven stretched outward from the gate as they departed. Atop each vehicle, a turret armed with a heavy caliber machine gun rotated about while the company rumbled along the rickety dirt road. Drawing further and further into the afternoon, the Patrol began to head back to the secure base while the final hours of daylight began to tick downward. Looking out the window of her vehicle as clouds of dust and dirt continued to waft past, she noticed something odd.
There was a movement.
“Sir-!”
Before she could even get another word out from her lips, the world around her shattered. The first vehicle in the convoy took a direct hit from an explosion that lifted the multi-ton vehicle several feet into the air before bringing it crashing into the earth. So powerful was this explosion, that even five vehicles back, the windshield cracked and snapped as heated shrapnel perforated the it like Swiss Cheese.
No longer was there time to think, no longer was there time to scream, yell, shout or cry. There was only time for instinct. Kicking her door open, the Medic hit the ground hard as the peppering of gunfire from the distance ruptured outward. Cries of other soldiers rallying against the oncoming gunfire were soon drowned out by the sound of heavy caliber machine gun fire in support of killing and suppressing their enemies.
They didn’t matter. Not yet.
What only mattered was that she got to the twisted heap of metal that had once been a vehicle. Darting progressively from one vehicle to the next while bullets hissed through the air around her head, it took her far longer than she’d like as she neared the wreck. They were getting closer, people needed her help, and she was more than determined to get there.
“MENDEZ. PLATTER, HELP HAWKINS GET THE FUCKING BODIES OUT. MOVE IT.”
Just as she collided into the side of the partially destroyed truck, the young woman heard the Lieutenant’s order. Praying that she could get there in time to at least save one life. Though she couldn’t’ see how it was possible. Yet as she got help to pry the door open with a crowbar gifted by one of the other soldiers, the smoke-filled scene that greeted her was horrific.
Blood was everywhere, the two men who had been sitting in the back were either completely covered in third degree burns…and half of the other wasn’t even there. It was completely gone. He was dead and there was nothing she could do. But the other two in front looked as if they stood a chance to be saved.
“Mendez! Get the back door open! Platter! Help me get the corporal out of the driver seat. Now!”
With help, the Corporal Driver was pulled from the vehicle, and once this happened, the Private that had been sitting next to him woke up. She knew this by the screams of agony and panic as flickering orange began to form in the front of the vehicle. Fire…fire and gasoline never mixed well. Assessment of the Private revealed two horrific things. A large piece of metal was punched through even the femur on his right leg. He was losing blood fast. If she didn’t tourniquet that leg in the next few moments, he was going to die.
His right leg from the just above the knee down was only attached by a few strings of flesh and sinew.
She made a decision.
Pulling out her knife and diving into the vehicle, Hawkins cut through what little was held his leg together, grabbed the Private by the arm and shifted him so she could pull him by his shoulders. “HOLD ON!” She cried loudly, gripping him tightly with her much smaller frame she yanked him out of the vehicle. Together with Mendez, Platter, and the other two wounded men, they drag carried them to better cover behind a much more intact vehicle.
At long last, the gunfire ceased, leaving her in an eerie silence of running engines, sweat, and pissed off soldiers at a trio of dead Iraqi bodies.
There, the Medic went to work. Ordering the two uninjured men around, telling them what to do to treat for shock as she tied a tourniquet sharply around his amputated leg to reduce the loss of blood. Other injuries were pressured against, burns were treated as well as possible as the sound of helicopters approaching swiftly in the distance announced the trio’s salvation.
Once they were stabilized, the Medic sat back on her knees and looked at her handiwork, monitoring the three carefully while Platter and Mendez went and retrieved the KIA from the truck.
“Fucking Christ Hawkins. Patch yourself up.”
Bewilderedly, the girl looked up at the Lieutenant who bore a morbid smirk. “You caught a graze on the side of your neck from the shrapnel. Patch it up, now.”
With an expression of shock, she raised her hand to touch her neck, only to finally have the burning agony of pain come with sharpened realization as her hand came back to view covered in blood. Her blood. Digging into her own medical kit, she retrieved a set of Gauze and tightly pressed against the injury.
“Go with goddamn choppers. We’ve got help on the way. Sides, Mendez is a medic too. Thanks.”
She ran with the helo medics that arrived, helping them get the wounded on the litters, securing their heads to prevent any further neck injuries and the like. Not long after, they were lifted into the air once again, headed for a hospital. The entire way, she held the hand of the boy whose leg she had been forced to amputate in the field.
Guilt racked her soul.
Two men would live that day, one died instantly, the other died from his wounds.
She never saw any of them again. To this day, she has nightmares about them.
The power she wish she could have varies from time to time. Some days she wishes she could have had the eyes of a hawk to notice the three Insurgents earlier, or the roadside bomb that they hit. Other days, she wishes she had the power to run faster so she could have saved the burn victim too from further injury. Above all, she wishes she had the power to forget it all, and prevent it from ever happening to begin with.
Others may want to fly, freeze, or burn.
I simply wish I had the power to not remember.
Despite that, I will forever choose to charge across the field.
by @ScienMalefica
The boy with hair as white as the snow covering the ground around him had never felt a worse pain than the odd sensation of the blade as it tore through his torso, pinning him to the ground. His screams pierced the chilly night sky as the boy coughed blood, looking at his killer. The last thing the dying boy ever saw was a flash of lavender hair and piercing eyes the color of shallow water on a tropical paradise, shining with glee. The eyes of a maniac.
“What do you mean I should’ve been more low-key?” Lavender Purple asked with a laugh, his light blue eyes gleaming with a menace below the joyfulness of his tone. Few had dared invoke the ire of the genocidal sociopath known as Lavender. Luckily enough, the slender woman sitting in the shack opposite Lavender with hair the color of a fiery sunset only known as Tangerine Orange was one of those few.
“You sent half a Nepal village on a one-way trip to Crazytown all just to draw out the boy Snow, I’m sure if you bothered to stay under the radar you could have taken him out quietly,” Tangerine growled at Lavender, frustrated at the way he always decided to make a huge mess out of every assassination he performed.
“Well of course I could have taken him out quietly but we’re not just in this to try and become the last color, it’s about style and fun too,” Lavender replied with a smile, responded to only with a sigh from his ally in this war, Tangerine.
“Don’t you realize how important this is? Snow White, Sky Blue, Scarlet Red, Lime Green and Carnation Pink are all dead. Jet Black and Midnight Blue are working together and Fern Green is god knows where, but they’re the only colors left. The last one of all of us will get the power of every color and immortality,” Tangerine lectured to her yawning ally in the death match that was the Color War.
“Yes, but I think the mental power of purple being able to send any mundie insane is a bit more fun than any other color. Sure Jet Black can turn invisible and Midnight Blue can manipulate water but nothing’s quite as useful as the diversion of mundies absolutely losing their minds, so there’s not too much point in winning this besides fun,” Lavender chuckled, referring to the non-powered no color mundane of the world, ‘mundies’ as he liked to call them.
“Don’t forget Fern Green being able to control plant life, that’s potentially the most dangerous of all, just because he’s been invisible all this time doesn’t mean he’s not dangerous,” Tangerine sighed at what despite having put up with for a year now still irritated her, Lavender’s smugly carefree attitude when he’s actually more determined than anyone to win.
“Don’t forget yourself either, I’m going to have to kill you once all the others are gone,” Lavender smiled, which made Tangerine wince. She didn’t really see the point in this game, but when Lavender found her it was help him or die, and she still had a debt to pay before she let herself leave this world. Not that she helped much, being able to manipulate light and blind people wasn’t quite as effective as causing masses to go insane.
“Anyway, we got a hit on Midnight Blue, facial recognition systems on a red light camera in Las Vegas,” Tangerine murmured, focusing on the computer screen, not sure whether to feel irritated or scared now that the concept of her own death would be floating around that psychopath’s mind.
Lavender laughed in a manner more chilling than the icy gale outside howling the song of those who died on that day, sending shudders down Tangerine’s spine. “We’ve got the little twat!” he laughed, Tangerine uncomfortably smiling to appease the madman. She herself would prefer to be away from all this, just live a normal life. But unfortunately, being born a clone with the ability to manipulate light she could never really have the opportunity to settle down.
“Is everyone here?” the man with rainbow hair asked the then 18 year old colors at the surprise assembly. The rainbow-haired man, Orion Takahashi, was the man in charge of everything despite being not much older than the colors. He didn’t know genetics like all the scientist and he didn’t guard the colors like the security officers, but he still seemed to for some reason be able to make all the decisions without proper knowledge.
He reminded the 18-year old Tangerine of the politicians she read about in her education program. She smiled at that thought. Whether he should be in a leadership position or not he was like a father to all the colors despite his age, and he viewed and loved all of the colors as brothers and sisters, always wanting to keep them safe. Or so she thought.
“There’s only 10 of us, how hard can it be to just look!” Lavender yelled out, causing Orion to smile and the other colors to laugh a bit, even getting a giggle out of the quiet and shy Carnation. Tangerine looked at Lavender. He was always a joker, but Lavender wasn’t too close to him, preferring to spend most of her time with Sky, Lime and Midnight. They were a bit more levelheaded.
“Well I suppose that’s correct Lavender, I suppose I should get on with it,” Orion replied with a gleam in his eye. Loving father figure he may be but he didn’t respond well to being mocked. Often that would result in lectures and extra class time, but that never worked on Lavender who seemed to find humor and joy in anything, an enviable trait.
“I suppose you’re wondering why I gathered you all here today,” Orion started, giving a smile in his pause, causing all the colors to wonder even more. Tangerine caught the gesture though, an obvious attempt to further the effect of whatever he was going to say. That was basic psychology she had learnt in her private tutoring. “As you probably already know, it’s all your 18th birthday!” Orion continued, replied to with a polite applause by the colors and surrounding staff. Later Tangerine would notice there were many more guards in the area than usual, but in this moment she focused on Orion skeptically.
“For the occasion I’ve decided to reveal to you all the truth about the reason of your creation,” he smiled as he paused once again for the colors to gasp. They figured out that they would be clones but they had no idea why they made them and obviously spent so much money on their development. Satisfied with the response, Orion continued, “All of you have an ability corresponding to your hair color beyond the normal range of human capability. You cannot use them at the moment as the vitamins you take every morning as well as filling you with energy temporarily remove that mental capability, otherwise chaos would ensue,” he added, glaring at Lavender who despite the shock of what he heard managed to make a conspicuously innocent look.
Tangerine felt like yelling or saying something about it but she found she was so surprised that she couldn’t grasp the words to say. Obviously the other colors were finding similar results as Orion kept talking, “Carnation, you can make people fall in love at will. Lavender, you can make people go insane at will. Lime, you can make people violently ill at will. None of those powers work on other colors. Fern, you can manipulate the growth of plant life. Midnight, you can manipulate water. Scarlet, you can manipulate heat and temperature. Sky, you can fly. Jet, you can turn invisible. Snow, you can change the weather. Tangerine, you can manipulate light,” and waited for it to sink into them all.
Manipulating light? Tangerine wasn’t sure how to respond to the statement. Laugh and call it out as a joke or have a mental breakdown at the development. She was different enough with her naturally orange hair and pale skin; she didn’t need to have some superpower too to isolate her even more.
“I’m sure you’re all not sure how to react to this news,” Orion started, “But we have some work to do. All of you are set to die in 3 years time unless all but one of you die, the last one alive will have all the powers listed as well as immortality,” and Tangerine opened her mouth to yell protest but she felt a stinging sensation in her back that she instantly recognized as a tranquillizer dart and her vision went to black.
That was almost three years ago now that they were knocked out and woke up spread across the world, and now it was an all-out war, kill or die. In three weeks it would hit the three-year mark and unless there was only one color left they would all die. Fern was sure to come out of hiding and attack, and Jet was most likely with Midnight. It was more than likely Midnight slipped up on purpose to lure them, but trap or not they had no other option.
Lavender smiled on the plane as they landed in Las Vegas. “I’ve always wanted to go here,” he laughed as they got off the plane. Tangerine just bit her lip, not wanting Lavender to lose it and kill her. He was always worst in his happiest moods.
“The license plate of the car he was in is a house at Sunrise Manor, so he should be there,” Tangerine said, going to the rental car business nearby and quickly paying to have a car for three weeks, figuring if she died she’d be too dead to worry about repaying it and if she lived she’d be too powerful to worry about it.
Before long they reached the house with the car parked out the front in plain view. Both took out pistols and Lavender sent the neighbors insane, hearing their screams and pots smashing but then an odd silence. Luckily enough for the silence allowed Tangerine to hear the footsteps right behind her, causing her to jump to the side and fire blindly at nothing, but one hit Jet’s leg, causing him to come into view as he lets out a gasp of pain.
“I came…. to talk…” Jet gasped out, Lavender just laughing in response. “Orion lied! We don’t die in 3 weeks! We don’t get other powers or immortality! It’s scientifically impossible!” he yelled out.
“I’ve got no clue what’s going on but if someone can make a mundie go a little too far down the rabbit hole by feeling like it, I think it’s possible for immortality to exist,” Lavender smiled and shot Jet in the head, killing him instantly.
Tangerine started vomiting at the sight, despite everything she hadn’t seen a dead body yet with her own eyes, and Lavender turned the gun and pointed it at her. “Sorry princess but I just needed you to get here,” and squeezed the trigger.
I’m powerless… Power isn’t about what you’re able to do, power’s not about anything. I have no less power than Lavender or Orion. Everything fades in oblivion, no one can actually have power in a world of infinites… death and disappearance comes to us all. We’re all nothing, we can’t mean anything, and meaning is power. The only thing with true power is death and oblivion, the powers that overcome all…
The bullet went through Tangerine’s head, and whether her philosophy was true or not she had in fact been overcome by the power that was death. Fern was still in hiding and Midnight died soon after, but after the three week countdown ran up they both died and eventually all faded away to oblivion, dead even in the memories of the world.
The boy with hair as white as the snow covering the ground around him had never felt a worse pain than the odd sensation of the blade as it tore through his torso, pinning him to the ground. His screams pierced the chilly night sky as the boy coughed blood, looking at his killer. The last thing the dying boy ever saw was a flash of lavender hair and piercing eyes the color of shallow water on a tropical paradise, shining with glee. The eyes of a maniac.
“What do you mean I should’ve been more low-key?” Lavender Purple asked with a laugh, his light blue eyes gleaming with a menace below the joyfulness of his tone. Few had dared invoke the ire of the genocidal sociopath known as Lavender. Luckily enough, the slender woman sitting in the shack opposite Lavender with hair the color of a fiery sunset only known as Tangerine Orange was one of those few.
“You sent half a Nepal village on a one-way trip to Crazytown all just to draw out the boy Snow, I’m sure if you bothered to stay under the radar you could have taken him out quietly,” Tangerine growled at Lavender, frustrated at the way he always decided to make a huge mess out of every assassination he performed.
“Well of course I could have taken him out quietly but we’re not just in this to try and become the last color, it’s about style and fun too,” Lavender replied with a smile, responded to only with a sigh from his ally in this war, Tangerine.
“Don’t you realize how important this is? Snow White, Sky Blue, Scarlet Red, Lime Green and Carnation Pink are all dead. Jet Black and Midnight Blue are working together and Fern Green is god knows where, but they’re the only colors left. The last one of all of us will get the power of every color and immortality,” Tangerine lectured to her yawning ally in the death match that was the Color War.
“Yes, but I think the mental power of purple being able to send any mundie insane is a bit more fun than any other color. Sure Jet Black can turn invisible and Midnight Blue can manipulate water but nothing’s quite as useful as the diversion of mundies absolutely losing their minds, so there’s not too much point in winning this besides fun,” Lavender chuckled, referring to the non-powered no color mundane of the world, ‘mundies’ as he liked to call them.
“Don’t forget Fern Green being able to control plant life, that’s potentially the most dangerous of all, just because he’s been invisible all this time doesn’t mean he’s not dangerous,” Tangerine sighed at what despite having put up with for a year now still irritated her, Lavender’s smugly carefree attitude when he’s actually more determined than anyone to win.
“Don’t forget yourself either, I’m going to have to kill you once all the others are gone,” Lavender smiled, which made Tangerine wince. She didn’t really see the point in this game, but when Lavender found her it was help him or die, and she still had a debt to pay before she let herself leave this world. Not that she helped much, being able to manipulate light and blind people wasn’t quite as effective as causing masses to go insane.
“Anyway, we got a hit on Midnight Blue, facial recognition systems on a red light camera in Las Vegas,” Tangerine murmured, focusing on the computer screen, not sure whether to feel irritated or scared now that the concept of her own death would be floating around that psychopath’s mind.
Lavender laughed in a manner more chilling than the icy gale outside howling the song of those who died on that day, sending shudders down Tangerine’s spine. “We’ve got the little twat!” he laughed, Tangerine uncomfortably smiling to appease the madman. She herself would prefer to be away from all this, just live a normal life. But unfortunately, being born a clone with the ability to manipulate light she could never really have the opportunity to settle down.
“Is everyone here?” the man with rainbow hair asked the then 18 year old colors at the surprise assembly. The rainbow-haired man, Orion Takahashi, was the man in charge of everything despite being not much older than the colors. He didn’t know genetics like all the scientist and he didn’t guard the colors like the security officers, but he still seemed to for some reason be able to make all the decisions without proper knowledge.
He reminded the 18-year old Tangerine of the politicians she read about in her education program. She smiled at that thought. Whether he should be in a leadership position or not he was like a father to all the colors despite his age, and he viewed and loved all of the colors as brothers and sisters, always wanting to keep them safe. Or so she thought.
“There’s only 10 of us, how hard can it be to just look!” Lavender yelled out, causing Orion to smile and the other colors to laugh a bit, even getting a giggle out of the quiet and shy Carnation. Tangerine looked at Lavender. He was always a joker, but Lavender wasn’t too close to him, preferring to spend most of her time with Sky, Lime and Midnight. They were a bit more levelheaded.
“Well I suppose that’s correct Lavender, I suppose I should get on with it,” Orion replied with a gleam in his eye. Loving father figure he may be but he didn’t respond well to being mocked. Often that would result in lectures and extra class time, but that never worked on Lavender who seemed to find humor and joy in anything, an enviable trait.
“I suppose you’re wondering why I gathered you all here today,” Orion started, giving a smile in his pause, causing all the colors to wonder even more. Tangerine caught the gesture though, an obvious attempt to further the effect of whatever he was going to say. That was basic psychology she had learnt in her private tutoring. “As you probably already know, it’s all your 18th birthday!” Orion continued, replied to with a polite applause by the colors and surrounding staff. Later Tangerine would notice there were many more guards in the area than usual, but in this moment she focused on Orion skeptically.
“For the occasion I’ve decided to reveal to you all the truth about the reason of your creation,” he smiled as he paused once again for the colors to gasp. They figured out that they would be clones but they had no idea why they made them and obviously spent so much money on their development. Satisfied with the response, Orion continued, “All of you have an ability corresponding to your hair color beyond the normal range of human capability. You cannot use them at the moment as the vitamins you take every morning as well as filling you with energy temporarily remove that mental capability, otherwise chaos would ensue,” he added, glaring at Lavender who despite the shock of what he heard managed to make a conspicuously innocent look.
Tangerine felt like yelling or saying something about it but she found she was so surprised that she couldn’t grasp the words to say. Obviously the other colors were finding similar results as Orion kept talking, “Carnation, you can make people fall in love at will. Lavender, you can make people go insane at will. Lime, you can make people violently ill at will. None of those powers work on other colors. Fern, you can manipulate the growth of plant life. Midnight, you can manipulate water. Scarlet, you can manipulate heat and temperature. Sky, you can fly. Jet, you can turn invisible. Snow, you can change the weather. Tangerine, you can manipulate light,” and waited for it to sink into them all.
Manipulating light? Tangerine wasn’t sure how to respond to the statement. Laugh and call it out as a joke or have a mental breakdown at the development. She was different enough with her naturally orange hair and pale skin; she didn’t need to have some superpower too to isolate her even more.
“I’m sure you’re all not sure how to react to this news,” Orion started, “But we have some work to do. All of you are set to die in 3 years time unless all but one of you die, the last one alive will have all the powers listed as well as immortality,” and Tangerine opened her mouth to yell protest but she felt a stinging sensation in her back that she instantly recognized as a tranquillizer dart and her vision went to black.
That was almost three years ago now that they were knocked out and woke up spread across the world, and now it was an all-out war, kill or die. In three weeks it would hit the three-year mark and unless there was only one color left they would all die. Fern was sure to come out of hiding and attack, and Jet was most likely with Midnight. It was more than likely Midnight slipped up on purpose to lure them, but trap or not they had no other option.
Lavender smiled on the plane as they landed in Las Vegas. “I’ve always wanted to go here,” he laughed as they got off the plane. Tangerine just bit her lip, not wanting Lavender to lose it and kill her. He was always worst in his happiest moods.
“The license plate of the car he was in is a house at Sunrise Manor, so he should be there,” Tangerine said, going to the rental car business nearby and quickly paying to have a car for three weeks, figuring if she died she’d be too dead to worry about repaying it and if she lived she’d be too powerful to worry about it.
Before long they reached the house with the car parked out the front in plain view. Both took out pistols and Lavender sent the neighbors insane, hearing their screams and pots smashing but then an odd silence. Luckily enough for the silence allowed Tangerine to hear the footsteps right behind her, causing her to jump to the side and fire blindly at nothing, but one hit Jet’s leg, causing him to come into view as he lets out a gasp of pain.
“I came…. to talk…” Jet gasped out, Lavender just laughing in response. “Orion lied! We don’t die in 3 weeks! We don’t get other powers or immortality! It’s scientifically impossible!” he yelled out.
“I’ve got no clue what’s going on but if someone can make a mundie go a little too far down the rabbit hole by feeling like it, I think it’s possible for immortality to exist,” Lavender smiled and shot Jet in the head, killing him instantly.
Tangerine started vomiting at the sight, despite everything she hadn’t seen a dead body yet with her own eyes, and Lavender turned the gun and pointed it at her. “Sorry princess but I just needed you to get here,” and squeezed the trigger.
I’m powerless… Power isn’t about what you’re able to do, power’s not about anything. I have no less power than Lavender or Orion. Everything fades in oblivion, no one can actually have power in a world of infinites… death and disappearance comes to us all. We’re all nothing, we can’t mean anything, and meaning is power. The only thing with true power is death and oblivion, the powers that overcome all…
The bullet went through Tangerine’s head, and whether her philosophy was true or not she had in fact been overcome by the power that was death. Fern was still in hiding and Midnight died soon after, but after the three week countdown ran up they both died and eventually all faded away to oblivion, dead even in the memories of the world.
by @NewSun
A Man stands beneath a sky stained the hue of rusted amber. His world is illuminated solely by artificial light; day and night blur into one for no star burns bright in the sky. Sometimes he wonders how it happened: how the sun could be extinguished despite its cosmic power, despite being the lifegiver of the world. The sun is black now. Nobody knows why.
The Man goes to an empty home each night. He looks out through a tiny window across the cityscape and sees flecks of neon green scintillate through the haze before they quickly fade back into the obscurity of the synthetic auburn day. The Man sighs. He flicks the window blinds shut and scuttles to the warmth of his bed. He clutches a hand drawn portrait of himself. A child’s drawing.
The next day is the same as the last. The sky is still befouled by an unnatural glow. He misses the light of day — the real light of day. He peers skyward, but there is nothing besides the looming falsity that lines the clouds. He tells a co-worker that he misses when the sun was alight. The co-worker ignores him and carries on putting pen to paper. The Man doesn’t look out of the window for the rest of the day, but he does not forget.
The Man’s daughter stays with him today. He doesn’t have custody, she lives with her Mother. The Child is full of life and energy. She runs rampant around The Man’s tiny apartment, he can barely catch her.
He smiles for the first time in weeks.
They share a meal of printed meat and laboratory potatoes. He prepares it lovingly.
The Man goes for a walk with his daughter. He cannot stop staring at the sky. She barely even notices it.
Do you remember the sun, he asks her.
No, she replies.
Do you ever wonder what that thing in the sky is.
Sometimes.
Has Mummy ever told you about it, He asks.
I hear Mummy talking with the other man sometimes. They say you need to stop telling me about it. They say th-they will take me away from you.
Oh, the Man says.
He wipes a tear from her face and she sniffles. She looks up at him. Her eyes are red and teary.
They stop at the park and he rests for a few moments. She hurries off to climb a tree. The trees are all dead, though. They stopped having leaves years ago. They are all skeletons now; they died without the sun. The Man tells himself that they cannot survive on artificial light. Within himself, he knows this to be true.
The daughter is asleep. The Man can barely keep his eyes open. She breathes lightly while she rests and he can hear her across the room. It soothes him. He lays back in his armchair, he struggles to stay awake. He flicks the television on, hoping it will help. The blueish light agitates the sleeping girl and he winces from the unexpected brightness. He fumbles for the remote. He doesn’t want to wake The Girl.
The lady on the television says something about the Sun.
He turns it off before he can stop himself.
Her mother comes to pick her up in the morning. He and the mother exchange a cold handshake and empty words. Then she is gone. The apartment is empty again.
He sets to work deflating the mattress he got for The Girl. He cannot stop thinking about the lady on the television. He goes to turn it back on, but there is nothing but cartoons. He glances out of the window. It is still dark out. Still illuminated by synthetic brightness. It is cold in the apartment.
The office is alive with chatter but the Man doesn’t know why. It is normally solemn and quiet. People laugh by the cooler. Two men joke by a cubicle. He cannot understand why, for it is still dark outside. He does not know what has changed.
He asks a co-worker why everybody is so jovial.
You didn’t hear? Asks one.
No, The Man says.
Turn on the news tonight, another says.
The day goes by quickly. The Man hurries home. He makes it in time for the news.
Breaking News says the banner.
The Man struggles to believe his eyes and his ears.
The Company is to restore power to the Sun, says the lady on the television.
The Man jumps from his chair and cries. He cries all night.
He doesn’t go to work today. He stays at home. He goes on a walk. He eats bland food. He does anything to pass the time. Two days, he tells himself. Two days. He goes to bed, he tosses and turns. He can’t sleep no matter how hard he tries. He rests on the windowsill. He knows he will not miss the rusted orange skies, overcast with black and inky darkness.
He wakes from the buzzing of his phone. He doesn’t remember falling asleep. It is his daughter. She asks him if he would like to watch the Sun together.
He says yes.
There is nothing i’d like more, he tells her.
I’m excited, she says.
I am too.
Mummy says it isn’t going to happen.
Mummy is just scared.
There is no reply.
Does Mummy know you are calling, he asks.
The phone line goes down. He doesn’t get to say goodbye.
He wastes the rest of the day pacing.
He arrives at the Mother’s house. He knocks on the door slowly. The Girl does not answer, the Mother does.
What are you doing here, she asks.
I’m here to take her to the watch the Sun, he replies.
You have got to stop filling her head with this shit, she shouts.
It isn’t a joke, he shouts back. It is going to be like it used to be.
It can’t be done, she says. She slams the door in his face.
He knocks again, but there is no answer.
He sneaks around the back. Her bedroom is on the ground floor. He knocks on the window quietly. Her face appears from behind the blinds and lights up like the sun. She climbs through the window and closes it softly.
Are you excited, he asks her.
Yeah, she shouts.
They exchange no more words for a moment or two. They lie on a hill where they can see the Sun. In the distance, scaffolds reach into the clouds. His phone buzzes. It is the Mother. He does not answer. It buzzes again a minute later. It is a message.
I am calling the police, it says. He ignores it.
The scaffolds in the distance glow with power as they engage.
Five, he says.
Four, she says.
Police sirens howl in the distance. They grow louder every second.
Three.
Two.
Deafeningly close.
The Girl screams as they pull up behind them.
He hears a voice command him to put his hands up. He does not comply.
One.
Any minute now he tells himself. He stares up at the ball of umbral black floating in the sky. Any minute now.
A Man stands beneath a sky stained the hue of rusted amber. His world is illuminated solely by artificial light; day and night blur into one for no star burns bright in the sky. Sometimes he wonders how it happened: how the sun could be extinguished despite its cosmic power, despite being the lifegiver of the world. The sun is black now. Nobody knows why.
The Man goes to an empty home each night. He looks out through a tiny window across the cityscape and sees flecks of neon green scintillate through the haze before they quickly fade back into the obscurity of the synthetic auburn day. The Man sighs. He flicks the window blinds shut and scuttles to the warmth of his bed. He clutches a hand drawn portrait of himself. A child’s drawing.
The next day is the same as the last. The sky is still befouled by an unnatural glow. He misses the light of day — the real light of day. He peers skyward, but there is nothing besides the looming falsity that lines the clouds. He tells a co-worker that he misses when the sun was alight. The co-worker ignores him and carries on putting pen to paper. The Man doesn’t look out of the window for the rest of the day, but he does not forget.
The Man’s daughter stays with him today. He doesn’t have custody, she lives with her Mother. The Child is full of life and energy. She runs rampant around The Man’s tiny apartment, he can barely catch her.
He smiles for the first time in weeks.
They share a meal of printed meat and laboratory potatoes. He prepares it lovingly.
The Man goes for a walk with his daughter. He cannot stop staring at the sky. She barely even notices it.
Do you remember the sun, he asks her.
No, she replies.
Do you ever wonder what that thing in the sky is.
Sometimes.
Has Mummy ever told you about it, He asks.
I hear Mummy talking with the other man sometimes. They say you need to stop telling me about it. They say th-they will take me away from you.
Oh, the Man says.
He wipes a tear from her face and she sniffles. She looks up at him. Her eyes are red and teary.
They stop at the park and he rests for a few moments. She hurries off to climb a tree. The trees are all dead, though. They stopped having leaves years ago. They are all skeletons now; they died without the sun. The Man tells himself that they cannot survive on artificial light. Within himself, he knows this to be true.
The daughter is asleep. The Man can barely keep his eyes open. She breathes lightly while she rests and he can hear her across the room. It soothes him. He lays back in his armchair, he struggles to stay awake. He flicks the television on, hoping it will help. The blueish light agitates the sleeping girl and he winces from the unexpected brightness. He fumbles for the remote. He doesn’t want to wake The Girl.
The lady on the television says something about the Sun.
He turns it off before he can stop himself.
Her mother comes to pick her up in the morning. He and the mother exchange a cold handshake and empty words. Then she is gone. The apartment is empty again.
He sets to work deflating the mattress he got for The Girl. He cannot stop thinking about the lady on the television. He goes to turn it back on, but there is nothing but cartoons. He glances out of the window. It is still dark out. Still illuminated by synthetic brightness. It is cold in the apartment.
The office is alive with chatter but the Man doesn’t know why. It is normally solemn and quiet. People laugh by the cooler. Two men joke by a cubicle. He cannot understand why, for it is still dark outside. He does not know what has changed.
He asks a co-worker why everybody is so jovial.
You didn’t hear? Asks one.
No, The Man says.
Turn on the news tonight, another says.
The day goes by quickly. The Man hurries home. He makes it in time for the news.
Breaking News says the banner.
The Man struggles to believe his eyes and his ears.
The Company is to restore power to the Sun, says the lady on the television.
The Man jumps from his chair and cries. He cries all night.
He doesn’t go to work today. He stays at home. He goes on a walk. He eats bland food. He does anything to pass the time. Two days, he tells himself. Two days. He goes to bed, he tosses and turns. He can’t sleep no matter how hard he tries. He rests on the windowsill. He knows he will not miss the rusted orange skies, overcast with black and inky darkness.
He wakes from the buzzing of his phone. He doesn’t remember falling asleep. It is his daughter. She asks him if he would like to watch the Sun together.
He says yes.
There is nothing i’d like more, he tells her.
I’m excited, she says.
I am too.
Mummy says it isn’t going to happen.
Mummy is just scared.
There is no reply.
Does Mummy know you are calling, he asks.
The phone line goes down. He doesn’t get to say goodbye.
He wastes the rest of the day pacing.
He arrives at the Mother’s house. He knocks on the door slowly. The Girl does not answer, the Mother does.
What are you doing here, she asks.
I’m here to take her to the watch the Sun, he replies.
You have got to stop filling her head with this shit, she shouts.
It isn’t a joke, he shouts back. It is going to be like it used to be.
It can’t be done, she says. She slams the door in his face.
He knocks again, but there is no answer.
He sneaks around the back. Her bedroom is on the ground floor. He knocks on the window quietly. Her face appears from behind the blinds and lights up like the sun. She climbs through the window and closes it softly.
Are you excited, he asks her.
Yeah, she shouts.
They exchange no more words for a moment or two. They lie on a hill where they can see the Sun. In the distance, scaffolds reach into the clouds. His phone buzzes. It is the Mother. He does not answer. It buzzes again a minute later. It is a message.
I am calling the police, it says. He ignores it.
The scaffolds in the distance glow with power as they engage.
Five, he says.
Four, she says.
Police sirens howl in the distance. They grow louder every second.
Three.
Two.
Deafeningly close.
The Girl screams as they pull up behind them.
He hears a voice command him to put his hands up. He does not comply.
One.
Any minute now he tells himself. He stares up at the ball of umbral black floating in the sky. Any minute now.
by @Darcs
(i) --A thing with feathers,
Mourning black beauty,
The best part of waking up.
(ii) -Horse kicks like horse,
This brew is from Djibouti?
I can't afford another cup--
(iiv) It's too darkie anyway.
Side effects run their course for I--
And all on a 9 to 5 course.
(iv) Of course I want more!
Black Auster for austerity?
Would you like to endorse?
(5) We donate 5 cents to charity,
Jack! You should buy a another pot
or seventy.
(vi) I need more, blackie!
Why, more migraines?
Berries hook and fuel.
(vii) JUST GIVE ME SOME YOU OLD CRONY,
I NEED TO BURY MY WORLD DARK. --REPLACED
WITH SEA I DIVE OFF THE ARC.
(iix) Garmonbozia, my liquid sorrow--
Black beauty!--
Hope; love is lost on you. More tomorrow--
Oh -- -- -- ecstasy--!
(~) Dip in acedia --!
-corazon de la negrura,
-- fuel our progress,
drain the heart of darkness,
March to the drum, More
-marrón to flood slums.
Oh chums? Bronzed workers
liquid chum, Marxist scum,
Starbucks bums crowned dumb!
assuage umbrage beans for mum--
Fair trade?
I don't know. It's damn fine!
oppressed fuel oppressed with Turkish
-elixirs while slaves roast in mines
Our savage addiction-
It's dark predilection--
America's!!!!!!!!! The Worlds capitalist ambrosia!
(i) --A thing with feathers,
Mourning black beauty,
The best part of waking up.
(ii) -Horse kicks like horse,
This brew is from Djibouti?
I can't afford another cup--
(iiv) It's too darkie anyway.
Side effects run their course for I--
And all on a 9 to 5 course.
(iv) Of course I want more!
Black Auster for austerity?
Would you like to endorse?
(5) We donate 5 cents to charity,
Jack! You should buy a another pot
or seventy.
(vi) I need more, blackie!
Why, more migraines?
Berries hook and fuel.
(vii) JUST GIVE ME SOME YOU OLD CRONY,
I NEED TO BURY MY WORLD DARK. --REPLACED
WITH SEA I DIVE OFF THE ARC.
(iix) Garmonbozia, my liquid sorrow--
Black beauty!--
Hope; love is lost on you. More tomorrow--
~~~
Oh -- -- -- ecstasy--!
(~) Dip in acedia --!
-corazon de la negrura,
-- fuel our progress,
drain the heart of darkness,
March to the drum, More
-marrón to flood slums.
Oh chums? Bronzed workers
liquid chum, Marxist scum,
Starbucks bums crowned dumb!
assuage umbrage beans for mum--
Fair trade?
I don't know. It's damn fine!
oppressed fuel oppressed with Turkish
-elixirs while slaves roast in mines
Our savage addiction-
It's dark predilection--
America's!!!!!!!!! The Worlds capitalist ambrosia!
by @WiseDragonGirl
A man with neatly combed black hair and a pair of glasses on his face walked with big steps through the beige and white coloured paediatrics department of a hospital. The nametag on the long, white coat read dr. E. Hellington and he carried a newspaper. He made his way to the nurses station, where a few other people were. Two female nurses were talking while restocking the medicine-cart. A man wearing a similar white coat, with neck-long blond hair which he kept in a casual ponytail, leaned over a desk and seemed to write something in a file.
“Andy!” dr. Hellington said.
Upon hearing his name, the other doctor looked up and nodded. “Good morning, Eric,” he greeted him.
“Have you read the newspaper?”
“Well certainly,” Andy said as he turned his attention back to the file and continued writing in it. “The Raging Antelopes won the football match, the creative energy for leo’s is high today, but they might not be able to use how they want and the daily comic was incredibly funny again.”
Eric showed a sceptical expression. “You read the horoscope?” he asked with disbelief in his voice.
“Only to have something to say when people ask if I have read the newspaper,” Andy stated with a grin, which was followed by a chuckle from one of the nurses, “but I did skim over the headlines.”
“Then you have read this!” Eric said as he dropped the newspaper on the table, next to the file Andy was writing in. The headline on the front page read ‘Ancient tablet deciphered, an object of ultimate power is somewhere hidden in the land’ “Ultimate power, Andy!”
“I can read,” Andy sighed, after a quick glance at the headline, “and my brother is part of the excavation team that found the tablet and deciphered parts of it. He already told me about it before that reporter got paid handsomely for the article. Archaeologists all over the world are super-excited about this find.” He barely gave the newspaper any attention. “Seborrheic dermatitis, two r’s, right?”
Eric blinked at the sudden change of subject. “Ehm, yeah, two r’s.”
“I knew it!” Andy scribbled a few last things down and handed it to one of the nurses. He then grabbed another file from the pile and sat down on the edge of the desk to read about the next young patient he would visit.
The first thing Eric noticed when Andy sat down like that, was what he wore under the unbuttoned white coat. It wasn’t a neatly ironed shirt like most doctors wore, it was a blue t-shirt with the image of the Cookie Monster from Sesame Street, with the caption ‘Cookies!’ under it. Deciding not to comment on that, Eric sat down on one of the desk chairs and he looked at his colleague. “You’re not enthusiastic about this at all. How is that possible?”
There was a moment of silence before Andy looked up and focussed his attention on his colleague, his grey-blue eyes held a serious expression. “I hope they never find it.”
Eric frowned at that. “Why?”
Andy shifted a bit so he was sitting more comfortably. “Well, I foresee trouble if they manage to dig up that ultimate power thingamajig.” He made a dismissive gesture with his hand as he said that, he couldn’t care less how it was actually called. “You know, if it really exists in the first place.” Andy skimmed through the notes written down by the nurses of the evening- and the nightshift and the results from the blood test.
“What kind of trouble?” Eric asked curiously.
The question made Andy look up again and he put the file next to him on the desk. “First off, if it does what is promised on the tablet, I think people will want it enough to kill for it, possibly even start wars over it. Secondly, if some kind of ancient race decided it needed to be hidden, they probably had a reason for that. So far the archaeologists couldn’t decipher more then the words ultimate power and hidden. We don’t know anything about it. Thirdly, the one who will gain this unlimited power...”
“Ultimate,” Eric corrected him.
Again Andy made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Unlimited, ultimate, whatever. At some point this person will most likely abuse it. You know what they say: power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely.” The statement was followed by a shrug. “I wouldn’t trust anyone with that kind of power.”
“Come now, we could do so much good with that!” Eric almost jumped up from his chair and he walked back and forth in the small nurses station. “It is assumed that the object will give someone, well, superpowers if you will. Think about all the people we could cure. Wouldn’t you want that, Andy?”
“Granted, if that thing can cure disease, that would be great. Even if it would lead to my unemployment, I would support that. But then what? What would you do after you so nobly eradicated disease?”
Eric frowned, followed by a sigh and he sat down again. “I...have no idea.”
“What are the odds someone would try to make you work for them? Or that you will start doing more harm then good, even if it is with the best intentions? Maybe it will give someone superpowers, maybe it’s some kind of devastating bomb. Either way, I don’t want to have it and it should remain buried under the ground.” Andy stood up and began walking away with both of his hands in the pockets of his coat. “I’m going to see Mabel,” he informed Eric and with that the conversation seemed over.
“So, if it would give you ultimate power, you don’t want it?” Eric asked, not yet ready to drop the subject.
Upon hearing the question, Andy turned around and walked backwards for a bit. “I don’t need it,” he said as he spread his arms. “I already am the most awesome doctor of this hospital and probably even the world! But if you would ever get your hands on that thingy and want to use it, please redecorate these walls. It looks too much like a hospital in here!” After he said that, Andy went to one of the doors and opened it after two knocks. “Mabel!” he said enthusiastically as he entered the room. “How are we feeling today? And with ‘we’ I mean you, because I’m feeling great!”
Eric rubbed his face, he could have known the serious conversation would end in a way like this. For some reason Andy never stayed in a serious mood for long and he referred to himself as awesome or fantastic usually a couple of times each day, but that didn’t take away the fact Andy was a good doctor. And even if the serious conversation about the topic hadn’t lasted as long as he had wanted, Eric had to admit Andy had raised some good points. He left the nurses station, he too had patients to visit after all.
During the morning, Andy visited several young patients on his round, drank some coffee with the nurses, talked with a couple of parents, responded to an emergency call from one of the rooms and overall managed to fill his morning quite nicely. By lunchtime he made his way to outpatient department for children where one of his colleagues was holding consultations that day. Something Andy had planned for the afternoon.
The waiting area was empty, which was a good sign. Andy walked to the room he needed to be, knocked on the door and peeked inside. He noticed how his colleague was typing on the keyboard with his eyes on the computerscreen.
“Jack!” Andy greeted him enthusiastically as he walked further in the room. “I’m glad to see you’re not busy.”
“Well actually...” Jack began, only to be cut short by Andy.
“You can finish that later. Our dearest colleague from gynaecology Frank called and he’s hungry. More importantly, I am starving!”
“Andy, listen...” Jack tried, but again Andy didn’t let him finish.
“It’s your chance to do the first of the seven works of mercy: feed the hungry. I’m certain that allowing a hungry person to feed himself and keep him company while doing so counts as an act of mercy. I’m allowing you to do a good deed, man!” It seemed Andy was finished, as he looked at Jack with a grin from ear to ear and his hands firmly planted in his side.
Jack cleared his throat and waited another second to see if Andy really didn’t have anything else to say. “Alright,” he slowly said. “I give in, we’ll have lunch now.”
Andy raised his arms in the air. “Whoohoo!”
With a smile on his face, Jack clicked a few times with the mouse and got up from the chair. He looked at Andy’s t-shirt for a moment and shook his head. “Cookie monster, Andy?”
“What? I like cookies!”
“It’s not the dress-code.”
Andy shrugged to that. “I think the head of our department has given up on making me wear a shirt to work.”
Jack laughed at that and he placed a hand on Andy’s shoulder as they left the room to go to the cafeteria. “How did you get those amazing powers of persuasiveness? You got me to join you for lunch while I wasn’t finished with work yet, you get to wear to work whatever you want. There are plenty of examples in which you got people to do things your way.”
“Well, it’s a secret to be honest, but I’ll share it with you,” Andy said and he looked left and right to check no-one was listening in and he leaned closer to his friend. “I’m just annoying. I don’t give up and just go on until I get things my way.” There was a brief pause in which Jack shook his head with an amused smile on his face and Andy grinned. “And someone as awesome as me can make any piece of clothing look awesome, even the Cookie Monster!”
Again Jack laughed and Andy walked alongside of him with a grin on his face. Some people got along with him, some didn’t. Luckily Jack belonged to the first group.
When he was done laughing, Jack looked at Andy. “Have you read the newspaper?” he asked, to have something to talk about other then work.
“I swear, if you’re going to talk about the headline I will kick you. It’s what everyone talks about and I just don’t care.”
Jack rolled his eyes. “Right. To avoid being kicked, did you know that today the creative energy is high for leo’s?”
Now it was Andy’s turn to laugh and they continued to talk about things unrelated to a certain mysterious hidden object. It was true what Andy had said, he didn’t care about it, for reasons he had explained to his other colleague Eric. Later Jack did ask why he wasn’t interested and Andy told him the same things.
The afternoon was filled with consultations for Andy, but he enjoyed doing those. After that he went home in his red Audi Cabrio, rolling his eyes when the news on the radio mentioned what was in the newspaper as well. There really was no avoiding it.
The first few days after the discovery of the tablet it was a hot item in the news and online. There were debates all around and plenty of theories about the origin and the use of the mentioned item were formed. At this time the archaeologists who had found the tablet remained at the site for digging and released no additional news about it. Other people started looking as well, it was similar to the gold rush fever, but no further progress was made. As days turned to weeks with no sign of the actual item, people started to lose interest. The newspapers still dedicated some space to write about the progress, but people generally believed the object mentioned on the tablet was nothing but a myth or a faulty translation.
After three weeks since the article in the newspaper had turned the world upside down, Andy received a text message from his brother to let him know he was back home and that he would come over after the meeting with his fellow archaeologists was over. Since he was bored and didn’t have anything better to do, Andy decided to visit his brother now instead. With that decision made he walked up to his car and let the top down. It was good weather after all, so why not enjoy it? After placing a pair of sunglasses on his face he took place behind the wheel and drove to the museum he knew his brother would be.
The museum itself wasn’t spectacular, just a two-storey building made mostly from steel and glass. On the ground floor was the museum itself, on the first floor were a couple of small offices, a small conference room, an archive and a storage room for delicate artefacts. Andy parked his car, put the sunglasses in the glove compartment and entered the hallway of the museum. He glanced around with a confident smile and went straight for the stairs to go up to the first floor. The kind woman behind the counter tried to stop Andy from going up by mentioning it was for authorized personal only, to which Andy showed the most charming smile he could master and asked if he didn’t look authorized to her. That baffled her long enough for Andy to just walk up the stairs. He made his way to the conference room, since his brother had mentioned a meeting he assumed it would be held there, and he knocked on the door. When the door opened and Andy looked in the surprised face of his brother, he grinned.
“Matt! I thought I’d come over and make sure you won’t work too hard. You’ve been digging and discussing for weeks now!”
“Andy...” Matt sighed. “Now is not a good time.”
“Nonsense!” Andy entered the room and looked at the people gathered around a table, all of them with serious faces. Aside from his brother there were two other men and one woman. He only recognized one of the men, a friend of his brother going by the name Edmund and Edmund looked rather annoyed in his direction. That didn’t surprise Andy one bit, they didn’t really get along after all. Therefore he choose to ignore the glare and he looked at the table instead. On the table were some items and Andy walked up to them to have a closer look, closely followed by his brother. One of the items was a clay tablet, Andy assumed it was the tablet that mentioned the mythical object. Then there was some pottery, a bead necklace and a spherical onyx rock. He picked up the rock and looked at it. “So you didn’t find it then, that statue of awesomeness.”
The statement was answered with silence and the people around the table looked at Andy, as if they weren’t sure what to say. Matt couldn’t hold back a sigh and he rubbed the back of his neck.
The only woman in the group leaned towards Matt. “What statue is he referring to?” she whispered to him.
“Well, Fiona,” Matt began with another sigh and he gestured towards his brother, “Andy here has a new name for the item we were looking for every time we spoke.” Matt couldn’t help but smile a bit. “Last time we talked he called it the lightning maker, before that it was the ultimator.”
“I kind of like ultimator,” the other man said with a chuckle, “maybe we should call it that from now on.” He grinned at Edmund when he noticed the glare he received from the man, obviously not impressed by it.
With a grin Andy looked at this man, finally there was someone who had a sense of humour. He wasn’t sure why most of his brothers colleagues seemed so serious. Then again, compared to him most people were or he was just not serious enough. “So there was no sign of the ultimator?” he asked, as no-one had answered him yet.
Again there was a moment of silence, but Edmund broke it after he rubbed his face with a hand. “Two things,” he said with a calm voice, even if he seemed far from pleased to have been interrupted in their meeting like this. “Firstly, you’re holding it, so I would appreciate you’ll be careful with it. Secondly, it’s not because Menno thinks it’s a good name we will actually use it. So please stop calling it that. If we will name it, it will be a more scientific or historic correct name.”
Andy looked at the round black stone on his hand, for once he didn’t seem to know what to say. That moment didn’t last long, he placed it back on the table and looked at it with a frown. It didn’t seem all that impressive, nor had he noticed anything about that promised ultimate power when he held it. “How does it work?” he asked.
“We don’t know yet,” Matt said.
“And have you decided what you’re going do with it?” Andy asked as he looked at his brother. “Like go to the Mariana Trench and throw it in the Challenger Deep?”
Menno burst out in laughter, while Edmund rubbed his temples with two fingers.
“You do know,” Edmund said, “that this is the biggest archaeological find in ages?”
“And yet I don’t see reporters with flashing camera’s to document the object that held the media in it’s grasp for weeks, nor have any of you taken credit for the find yet,” Andy retorted. “Why did you sneak it in like this?
For the first time Edmund showed a faint smile. “We found it in the first week, but the amount of corruption and violence we witnessed was enough reason to keep our find silent. We remained there to see if we could find other artefacts and to find clues about how to use it.” He pointed at the items lying on the table. “We did find other things, but nothing useful for...”
“The ultimator,” Menno finished the sentence for Edmund, which made the man groan.
Matt gave a pat of encouragement to Edmund and turned to Andy. “Armed men arrived at the dig site, we were requested to leave. Someone else bought the claims, while they were lawfully ours, and their team continued searching for it. So we left and took it with us.” Matt looked at the black stone and slowly shook his head. “It wasn’t supposed to come in the news when it did, we wanted to find out more about it first, but one of the members of our team apparently couldn’t...retain his enthusiasm and sold the story to a reporter. Needless to say we kept the discovery from him as well.” Matt sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “There are people who really want this item and the prospect of ultimate power doesn’t seem to bring up the best in them. Still, we haven’t found any evidence it really does what is claimed on the tablet.”
While Matt was talking, Menno picked up the round onyx stone and looked at it. “I have examined this piece of fine craftsmanship,” he said when Matt was done. “As far as I can tell it’s just an onyx rock. If there is a secret way to activate it’s ‘hidden powers’, we haven’t found it yet. The parts of the tablet that weren’t eroded didn’t reveal anything about it, aside from how it looks.”
Fiona picked up the tablet and looked at the ancient words on it. “While I’m certain the translation is correct,” she continued after Menno, “they might have had a different interpretation for the term ultimate than we have.”
“To put it in medical terms,” Edmund stated as looked at Andy with crossed arms. “This might just be a placebo. I’m sure that you, as a doctor, know how powerful the placebo-effect can be.”
There was a moment of silence in the conference room and Andy looked at the stone. “In other words, you think that the believe they hold something of true power is what gives them strength.”
“That is what we suspect,” Edmund agree. “In all likelihood, the people of this ancient civilisation needed something to believe in, they needed something that would encourage them and then someone carved and polished a piece of onyx they found somewhere until it was completely round. It is just speculation of course.” He looked at the round rock with a deep frown in his forehead. “There is no evidence a stone like this, no matter how smooth it is, contains the ‘magic’ ability to give someone super-power like the popular theory in the media claims. Menno here is our geo-archaeologist and if he says it’s just an onyx rock, I will believe him. We will keep it here with the other delicate artefacts in the hopes we’ll find more information about it, but I don’t have high hopes for it.”
“And you trust the owner of the museum with it?” Andy asked.
Edmund scowled at the question. “The owner of this museum is a close friend and the leader of our expedition. I trust him.”
“Fine, fine,” Andy said as he raised his hands. “Just asking.”
In the end, the team of archaeologists where Andy’s brother was a part of only published the discovery of the tablet and the translation. Andy kept what he had learned about the stone to himself, he knew that if people learned where the object of ‘ultimate power’ was, they would do anything to get it. There would always be people who wouldn’t want to believe the placebo-theory and believe in it’s magical abilities instead, so it was best to just keep it hidden. At least for the time being, maybe one day the truth could be revealed. One thing was certain though, he didn’t need anything to be awesome. He just was. And as long as the truth wasn’t revealed, people could dream about the existence of magical objects and unlimited power. Or ultimate. Whatever.
A man with neatly combed black hair and a pair of glasses on his face walked with big steps through the beige and white coloured paediatrics department of a hospital. The nametag on the long, white coat read dr. E. Hellington and he carried a newspaper. He made his way to the nurses station, where a few other people were. Two female nurses were talking while restocking the medicine-cart. A man wearing a similar white coat, with neck-long blond hair which he kept in a casual ponytail, leaned over a desk and seemed to write something in a file.
“Andy!” dr. Hellington said.
Upon hearing his name, the other doctor looked up and nodded. “Good morning, Eric,” he greeted him.
“Have you read the newspaper?”
“Well certainly,” Andy said as he turned his attention back to the file and continued writing in it. “The Raging Antelopes won the football match, the creative energy for leo’s is high today, but they might not be able to use how they want and the daily comic was incredibly funny again.”
Eric showed a sceptical expression. “You read the horoscope?” he asked with disbelief in his voice.
“Only to have something to say when people ask if I have read the newspaper,” Andy stated with a grin, which was followed by a chuckle from one of the nurses, “but I did skim over the headlines.”
“Then you have read this!” Eric said as he dropped the newspaper on the table, next to the file Andy was writing in. The headline on the front page read ‘Ancient tablet deciphered, an object of ultimate power is somewhere hidden in the land’ “Ultimate power, Andy!”
“I can read,” Andy sighed, after a quick glance at the headline, “and my brother is part of the excavation team that found the tablet and deciphered parts of it. He already told me about it before that reporter got paid handsomely for the article. Archaeologists all over the world are super-excited about this find.” He barely gave the newspaper any attention. “Seborrheic dermatitis, two r’s, right?”
Eric blinked at the sudden change of subject. “Ehm, yeah, two r’s.”
“I knew it!” Andy scribbled a few last things down and handed it to one of the nurses. He then grabbed another file from the pile and sat down on the edge of the desk to read about the next young patient he would visit.
The first thing Eric noticed when Andy sat down like that, was what he wore under the unbuttoned white coat. It wasn’t a neatly ironed shirt like most doctors wore, it was a blue t-shirt with the image of the Cookie Monster from Sesame Street, with the caption ‘Cookies!’ under it. Deciding not to comment on that, Eric sat down on one of the desk chairs and he looked at his colleague. “You’re not enthusiastic about this at all. How is that possible?”
There was a moment of silence before Andy looked up and focussed his attention on his colleague, his grey-blue eyes held a serious expression. “I hope they never find it.”
Eric frowned at that. “Why?”
Andy shifted a bit so he was sitting more comfortably. “Well, I foresee trouble if they manage to dig up that ultimate power thingamajig.” He made a dismissive gesture with his hand as he said that, he couldn’t care less how it was actually called. “You know, if it really exists in the first place.” Andy skimmed through the notes written down by the nurses of the evening- and the nightshift and the results from the blood test.
“What kind of trouble?” Eric asked curiously.
The question made Andy look up again and he put the file next to him on the desk. “First off, if it does what is promised on the tablet, I think people will want it enough to kill for it, possibly even start wars over it. Secondly, if some kind of ancient race decided it needed to be hidden, they probably had a reason for that. So far the archaeologists couldn’t decipher more then the words ultimate power and hidden. We don’t know anything about it. Thirdly, the one who will gain this unlimited power...”
“Ultimate,” Eric corrected him.
Again Andy made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Unlimited, ultimate, whatever. At some point this person will most likely abuse it. You know what they say: power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely.” The statement was followed by a shrug. “I wouldn’t trust anyone with that kind of power.”
“Come now, we could do so much good with that!” Eric almost jumped up from his chair and he walked back and forth in the small nurses station. “It is assumed that the object will give someone, well, superpowers if you will. Think about all the people we could cure. Wouldn’t you want that, Andy?”
“Granted, if that thing can cure disease, that would be great. Even if it would lead to my unemployment, I would support that. But then what? What would you do after you so nobly eradicated disease?”
Eric frowned, followed by a sigh and he sat down again. “I...have no idea.”
“What are the odds someone would try to make you work for them? Or that you will start doing more harm then good, even if it is with the best intentions? Maybe it will give someone superpowers, maybe it’s some kind of devastating bomb. Either way, I don’t want to have it and it should remain buried under the ground.” Andy stood up and began walking away with both of his hands in the pockets of his coat. “I’m going to see Mabel,” he informed Eric and with that the conversation seemed over.
“So, if it would give you ultimate power, you don’t want it?” Eric asked, not yet ready to drop the subject.
Upon hearing the question, Andy turned around and walked backwards for a bit. “I don’t need it,” he said as he spread his arms. “I already am the most awesome doctor of this hospital and probably even the world! But if you would ever get your hands on that thingy and want to use it, please redecorate these walls. It looks too much like a hospital in here!” After he said that, Andy went to one of the doors and opened it after two knocks. “Mabel!” he said enthusiastically as he entered the room. “How are we feeling today? And with ‘we’ I mean you, because I’m feeling great!”
Eric rubbed his face, he could have known the serious conversation would end in a way like this. For some reason Andy never stayed in a serious mood for long and he referred to himself as awesome or fantastic usually a couple of times each day, but that didn’t take away the fact Andy was a good doctor. And even if the serious conversation about the topic hadn’t lasted as long as he had wanted, Eric had to admit Andy had raised some good points. He left the nurses station, he too had patients to visit after all.
During the morning, Andy visited several young patients on his round, drank some coffee with the nurses, talked with a couple of parents, responded to an emergency call from one of the rooms and overall managed to fill his morning quite nicely. By lunchtime he made his way to outpatient department for children where one of his colleagues was holding consultations that day. Something Andy had planned for the afternoon.
The waiting area was empty, which was a good sign. Andy walked to the room he needed to be, knocked on the door and peeked inside. He noticed how his colleague was typing on the keyboard with his eyes on the computerscreen.
“Jack!” Andy greeted him enthusiastically as he walked further in the room. “I’m glad to see you’re not busy.”
“Well actually...” Jack began, only to be cut short by Andy.
“You can finish that later. Our dearest colleague from gynaecology Frank called and he’s hungry. More importantly, I am starving!”
“Andy, listen...” Jack tried, but again Andy didn’t let him finish.
“It’s your chance to do the first of the seven works of mercy: feed the hungry. I’m certain that allowing a hungry person to feed himself and keep him company while doing so counts as an act of mercy. I’m allowing you to do a good deed, man!” It seemed Andy was finished, as he looked at Jack with a grin from ear to ear and his hands firmly planted in his side.
Jack cleared his throat and waited another second to see if Andy really didn’t have anything else to say. “Alright,” he slowly said. “I give in, we’ll have lunch now.”
Andy raised his arms in the air. “Whoohoo!”
With a smile on his face, Jack clicked a few times with the mouse and got up from the chair. He looked at Andy’s t-shirt for a moment and shook his head. “Cookie monster, Andy?”
“What? I like cookies!”
“It’s not the dress-code.”
Andy shrugged to that. “I think the head of our department has given up on making me wear a shirt to work.”
Jack laughed at that and he placed a hand on Andy’s shoulder as they left the room to go to the cafeteria. “How did you get those amazing powers of persuasiveness? You got me to join you for lunch while I wasn’t finished with work yet, you get to wear to work whatever you want. There are plenty of examples in which you got people to do things your way.”
“Well, it’s a secret to be honest, but I’ll share it with you,” Andy said and he looked left and right to check no-one was listening in and he leaned closer to his friend. “I’m just annoying. I don’t give up and just go on until I get things my way.” There was a brief pause in which Jack shook his head with an amused smile on his face and Andy grinned. “And someone as awesome as me can make any piece of clothing look awesome, even the Cookie Monster!”
Again Jack laughed and Andy walked alongside of him with a grin on his face. Some people got along with him, some didn’t. Luckily Jack belonged to the first group.
When he was done laughing, Jack looked at Andy. “Have you read the newspaper?” he asked, to have something to talk about other then work.
“I swear, if you’re going to talk about the headline I will kick you. It’s what everyone talks about and I just don’t care.”
Jack rolled his eyes. “Right. To avoid being kicked, did you know that today the creative energy is high for leo’s?”
Now it was Andy’s turn to laugh and they continued to talk about things unrelated to a certain mysterious hidden object. It was true what Andy had said, he didn’t care about it, for reasons he had explained to his other colleague Eric. Later Jack did ask why he wasn’t interested and Andy told him the same things.
The afternoon was filled with consultations for Andy, but he enjoyed doing those. After that he went home in his red Audi Cabrio, rolling his eyes when the news on the radio mentioned what was in the newspaper as well. There really was no avoiding it.
The first few days after the discovery of the tablet it was a hot item in the news and online. There were debates all around and plenty of theories about the origin and the use of the mentioned item were formed. At this time the archaeologists who had found the tablet remained at the site for digging and released no additional news about it. Other people started looking as well, it was similar to the gold rush fever, but no further progress was made. As days turned to weeks with no sign of the actual item, people started to lose interest. The newspapers still dedicated some space to write about the progress, but people generally believed the object mentioned on the tablet was nothing but a myth or a faulty translation.
After three weeks since the article in the newspaper had turned the world upside down, Andy received a text message from his brother to let him know he was back home and that he would come over after the meeting with his fellow archaeologists was over. Since he was bored and didn’t have anything better to do, Andy decided to visit his brother now instead. With that decision made he walked up to his car and let the top down. It was good weather after all, so why not enjoy it? After placing a pair of sunglasses on his face he took place behind the wheel and drove to the museum he knew his brother would be.
The museum itself wasn’t spectacular, just a two-storey building made mostly from steel and glass. On the ground floor was the museum itself, on the first floor were a couple of small offices, a small conference room, an archive and a storage room for delicate artefacts. Andy parked his car, put the sunglasses in the glove compartment and entered the hallway of the museum. He glanced around with a confident smile and went straight for the stairs to go up to the first floor. The kind woman behind the counter tried to stop Andy from going up by mentioning it was for authorized personal only, to which Andy showed the most charming smile he could master and asked if he didn’t look authorized to her. That baffled her long enough for Andy to just walk up the stairs. He made his way to the conference room, since his brother had mentioned a meeting he assumed it would be held there, and he knocked on the door. When the door opened and Andy looked in the surprised face of his brother, he grinned.
“Matt! I thought I’d come over and make sure you won’t work too hard. You’ve been digging and discussing for weeks now!”
“Andy...” Matt sighed. “Now is not a good time.”
“Nonsense!” Andy entered the room and looked at the people gathered around a table, all of them with serious faces. Aside from his brother there were two other men and one woman. He only recognized one of the men, a friend of his brother going by the name Edmund and Edmund looked rather annoyed in his direction. That didn’t surprise Andy one bit, they didn’t really get along after all. Therefore he choose to ignore the glare and he looked at the table instead. On the table were some items and Andy walked up to them to have a closer look, closely followed by his brother. One of the items was a clay tablet, Andy assumed it was the tablet that mentioned the mythical object. Then there was some pottery, a bead necklace and a spherical onyx rock. He picked up the rock and looked at it. “So you didn’t find it then, that statue of awesomeness.”
The statement was answered with silence and the people around the table looked at Andy, as if they weren’t sure what to say. Matt couldn’t hold back a sigh and he rubbed the back of his neck.
The only woman in the group leaned towards Matt. “What statue is he referring to?” she whispered to him.
“Well, Fiona,” Matt began with another sigh and he gestured towards his brother, “Andy here has a new name for the item we were looking for every time we spoke.” Matt couldn’t help but smile a bit. “Last time we talked he called it the lightning maker, before that it was the ultimator.”
“I kind of like ultimator,” the other man said with a chuckle, “maybe we should call it that from now on.” He grinned at Edmund when he noticed the glare he received from the man, obviously not impressed by it.
With a grin Andy looked at this man, finally there was someone who had a sense of humour. He wasn’t sure why most of his brothers colleagues seemed so serious. Then again, compared to him most people were or he was just not serious enough. “So there was no sign of the ultimator?” he asked, as no-one had answered him yet.
Again there was a moment of silence, but Edmund broke it after he rubbed his face with a hand. “Two things,” he said with a calm voice, even if he seemed far from pleased to have been interrupted in their meeting like this. “Firstly, you’re holding it, so I would appreciate you’ll be careful with it. Secondly, it’s not because Menno thinks it’s a good name we will actually use it. So please stop calling it that. If we will name it, it will be a more scientific or historic correct name.”
Andy looked at the round black stone on his hand, for once he didn’t seem to know what to say. That moment didn’t last long, he placed it back on the table and looked at it with a frown. It didn’t seem all that impressive, nor had he noticed anything about that promised ultimate power when he held it. “How does it work?” he asked.
“We don’t know yet,” Matt said.
“And have you decided what you’re going do with it?” Andy asked as he looked at his brother. “Like go to the Mariana Trench and throw it in the Challenger Deep?”
Menno burst out in laughter, while Edmund rubbed his temples with two fingers.
“You do know,” Edmund said, “that this is the biggest archaeological find in ages?”
“And yet I don’t see reporters with flashing camera’s to document the object that held the media in it’s grasp for weeks, nor have any of you taken credit for the find yet,” Andy retorted. “Why did you sneak it in like this?
For the first time Edmund showed a faint smile. “We found it in the first week, but the amount of corruption and violence we witnessed was enough reason to keep our find silent. We remained there to see if we could find other artefacts and to find clues about how to use it.” He pointed at the items lying on the table. “We did find other things, but nothing useful for...”
“The ultimator,” Menno finished the sentence for Edmund, which made the man groan.
Matt gave a pat of encouragement to Edmund and turned to Andy. “Armed men arrived at the dig site, we were requested to leave. Someone else bought the claims, while they were lawfully ours, and their team continued searching for it. So we left and took it with us.” Matt looked at the black stone and slowly shook his head. “It wasn’t supposed to come in the news when it did, we wanted to find out more about it first, but one of the members of our team apparently couldn’t...retain his enthusiasm and sold the story to a reporter. Needless to say we kept the discovery from him as well.” Matt sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “There are people who really want this item and the prospect of ultimate power doesn’t seem to bring up the best in them. Still, we haven’t found any evidence it really does what is claimed on the tablet.”
While Matt was talking, Menno picked up the round onyx stone and looked at it. “I have examined this piece of fine craftsmanship,” he said when Matt was done. “As far as I can tell it’s just an onyx rock. If there is a secret way to activate it’s ‘hidden powers’, we haven’t found it yet. The parts of the tablet that weren’t eroded didn’t reveal anything about it, aside from how it looks.”
Fiona picked up the tablet and looked at the ancient words on it. “While I’m certain the translation is correct,” she continued after Menno, “they might have had a different interpretation for the term ultimate than we have.”
“To put it in medical terms,” Edmund stated as looked at Andy with crossed arms. “This might just be a placebo. I’m sure that you, as a doctor, know how powerful the placebo-effect can be.”
There was a moment of silence in the conference room and Andy looked at the stone. “In other words, you think that the believe they hold something of true power is what gives them strength.”
“That is what we suspect,” Edmund agree. “In all likelihood, the people of this ancient civilisation needed something to believe in, they needed something that would encourage them and then someone carved and polished a piece of onyx they found somewhere until it was completely round. It is just speculation of course.” He looked at the round rock with a deep frown in his forehead. “There is no evidence a stone like this, no matter how smooth it is, contains the ‘magic’ ability to give someone super-power like the popular theory in the media claims. Menno here is our geo-archaeologist and if he says it’s just an onyx rock, I will believe him. We will keep it here with the other delicate artefacts in the hopes we’ll find more information about it, but I don’t have high hopes for it.”
“And you trust the owner of the museum with it?” Andy asked.
Edmund scowled at the question. “The owner of this museum is a close friend and the leader of our expedition. I trust him.”
“Fine, fine,” Andy said as he raised his hands. “Just asking.”
In the end, the team of archaeologists where Andy’s brother was a part of only published the discovery of the tablet and the translation. Andy kept what he had learned about the stone to himself, he knew that if people learned where the object of ‘ultimate power’ was, they would do anything to get it. There would always be people who wouldn’t want to believe the placebo-theory and believe in it’s magical abilities instead, so it was best to just keep it hidden. At least for the time being, maybe one day the truth could be revealed. One thing was certain though, he didn’t need anything to be awesome. He just was. And as long as the truth wasn’t revealed, people could dream about the existence of magical objects and unlimited power. Or ultimate. Whatever.
by @elitestpotato
The grinding of the rust-filled gears is enough to drive any mere man insane. Mr. Victus Driver is no mere man. In fact, he is quite odd, indeed. With dark sullen eyes hinting at the sleep deprivation that haunts him, a gnarled, crooked spine arching his back into a permanently uncomfortable pose, and a social pattern that resembles that of a mole's rather than a human's, all strongly hint at the simple fact that the man does not associate with his peers. Yet, he loves them all. He loves them with a scorching passion, a passion like that of a teenage couple with nothing to care about but each other. A passion so immense that it sets his skin aflame, leaving a lasting red impression, much to the chagrin of the pale man. That is why he does what he does. His love for the people who beat him down with their stares of burning judgment. Mr. Driver's work is thankless work, work that only a man with the heart the size of the destruction a nuclear missile would make could do. Mr. Driver is quite odd, indeed.
Today is like any other. Victus wakes up and starts on his work, making the awful screeches and groans left from the rusty gears like a sick, twisted symphony. Victus slowly puts his gangly legs into motion from one dial to the next, poking and prodding at levers until the screeches burst his ear drums apart. Glancing at the clock, Mr. Driver slows his work pace. Twelve. He stirs a pot of tea and enjoys one of the few breaks he allows himself to have. "I wonder," Victus quietly mutters, "what would happen if I just stopped." He thought about it for a few moments, "I know that my work keeps them safe, and them out, but I've never actually seen them and the people never seem to be harmed during my little breaks..." The odd little man quickly shakes his head and continues his all-important work.
The thought continues to fester in his mind as he pulls and adjusts the levers to his liking. What if he stopped? What would happen? Would time itself stop? Would they really come? He tries shaking the thought, he tries with all his might. Focusing on his work does not work, focusing on getting to his tea breaks doesn't help, focusing on the screams of the abused gears doesn't even help. Victus cannot shake the burning desire to find out what exactly would happen if he just stopped. The desire burns him red, redder than the love. So red, it's like he's glowing, glowing with the passion of curiosity. He smiles to himself and muttered, "I am no cat," and gives a sly smile. So he stops. minutes pass and nothing happeneds. Victus gives a grim grin to himself, "All this time my work meant nothing...". Then the lights go out...
And they came...
A child is holding his mother's hand in a second-rate nursing home. He glances across the room to see his grandfather playing with an old creaky clock. "Mommy, how come Grandpa always messes with that clock?", he quizzically asks, "I guess it's so he can still feel in control..." "In control of what, Mommy?" "Nothing dear, nothing." The boy keeps staring at his grandfather and his grandfather slowly stops tinkering with the clock. This gives the boy pause, he had never seen his grandpa not play with the old clock. What should he do? Quickly the boy decides to just wait and see what happens. The boy watches his grandfather slowly slump down into his wheel chair and stop breathing, which the boy thinks is odd... his grandfather is quite odd, indeed.
The grinding of the rust-filled gears is enough to drive any mere man insane. Mr. Victus Driver is no mere man. In fact, he is quite odd, indeed. With dark sullen eyes hinting at the sleep deprivation that haunts him, a gnarled, crooked spine arching his back into a permanently uncomfortable pose, and a social pattern that resembles that of a mole's rather than a human's, all strongly hint at the simple fact that the man does not associate with his peers. Yet, he loves them all. He loves them with a scorching passion, a passion like that of a teenage couple with nothing to care about but each other. A passion so immense that it sets his skin aflame, leaving a lasting red impression, much to the chagrin of the pale man. That is why he does what he does. His love for the people who beat him down with their stares of burning judgment. Mr. Driver's work is thankless work, work that only a man with the heart the size of the destruction a nuclear missile would make could do. Mr. Driver is quite odd, indeed.
Today is like any other. Victus wakes up and starts on his work, making the awful screeches and groans left from the rusty gears like a sick, twisted symphony. Victus slowly puts his gangly legs into motion from one dial to the next, poking and prodding at levers until the screeches burst his ear drums apart. Glancing at the clock, Mr. Driver slows his work pace. Twelve. He stirs a pot of tea and enjoys one of the few breaks he allows himself to have. "I wonder," Victus quietly mutters, "what would happen if I just stopped." He thought about it for a few moments, "I know that my work keeps them safe, and them out, but I've never actually seen them and the people never seem to be harmed during my little breaks..." The odd little man quickly shakes his head and continues his all-important work.
The thought continues to fester in his mind as he pulls and adjusts the levers to his liking. What if he stopped? What would happen? Would time itself stop? Would they really come? He tries shaking the thought, he tries with all his might. Focusing on his work does not work, focusing on getting to his tea breaks doesn't help, focusing on the screams of the abused gears doesn't even help. Victus cannot shake the burning desire to find out what exactly would happen if he just stopped. The desire burns him red, redder than the love. So red, it's like he's glowing, glowing with the passion of curiosity. He smiles to himself and muttered, "I am no cat," and gives a sly smile. So he stops. minutes pass and nothing happeneds. Victus gives a grim grin to himself, "All this time my work meant nothing...". Then the lights go out...
And they came...
Epilogue
A child is holding his mother's hand in a second-rate nursing home. He glances across the room to see his grandfather playing with an old creaky clock. "Mommy, how come Grandpa always messes with that clock?", he quizzically asks, "I guess it's so he can still feel in control..." "In control of what, Mommy?" "Nothing dear, nothing." The boy keeps staring at his grandfather and his grandfather slowly stops tinkering with the clock. This gives the boy pause, he had never seen his grandpa not play with the old clock. What should he do? Quickly the boy decides to just wait and see what happens. The boy watches his grandfather slowly slump down into his wheel chair and stop breathing, which the boy thinks is odd... his grandfather is quite odd, indeed.
by @Ellri
OOC: The use of "cycles" in the story is meant to equal a month. For unspecific reasons, the setting world has 11 months per year.
~~~
Though the City of Valmerr was far from bankrupt, it did not have access to unlimited money either. As such, the further you got from the city core and the main thoroughfares, the greater the distance between the streetlights. In the old workman quarter near the great river Nith, the lights faded with sunset as the few remaining factories shut down for the night and the workers went home. On this evening, with just a tiny sliver of the moon visible, the cramped streets were dim indeed. The few who were out and about all walked resolutely towards their goal, paying no heed to anyone else other than to avoid crashing into them.
In some ways, the fading light was peaceful. In others, it was menacing. Some might even have said malevolent. It was upon just one such street, not far from the river itself, that the woman known as Elis ní Arailt walked. Like most others she was headed home after a long day's work. She wasn't anything special. Average height, average build, A worker's green jumpsuit that clearly had seen better days, her fairly short, brown hair was just long enough to be tied into a ponytail at the back of her head. In other words, the average young factory worker.
What thoughts were going through her head is impossible to say. Perhaps she thought of her work, or perhaps she thought of what to make for dinner. Or it might have been the coworker she had a special eye out for. Her expression revealed nothing about it. After turning another corner, she passed the small square where the old fountain stood, now topped by the holographic projector used by the government newscasters. The gleaming metal framework holding the projector up contrasted heavily with the ancient stone of the fountain. In fact, it contrasted with everything in the square.
She was thankful the projector was inactive at this time, as all it brought these days was bad news. Elis picked up her pace, wanting to be far away just in case the projector fired up again. By the time the projector was both out of sight and out of hearing, she could see no other people around her at all. On one hand, it was a relief. No others meant nobody to trouble her. On the other hand, it meant nobody to see if something did happen.
With that thought in mind, she touched her wrist where the government tracker implant lay, then kept walking home. The only warning she had was a sudden, but very short, burst of air. She did not know what to make of it, let alone have time to think on it, before someone grabbed her from behind.
She started to scream, but before she could, a hand covered in a glove of matte black leather pressed a small piece of foul-smelling cloth against her mouth and nose. Then she knew no more.
Ever so slowly, Elis started to regain consciousness. Her head felt like it was stuffed with wool, her eyes refused to open yet. Her throat felt parched. She tried to shift and found that she was not bound. In the distance, she could faintly hear someone speaking.
“Is she compatible?” A man said, his clear baritone timbre ringing through the air. She was curious who he might be. And where she was, for that matter, but continued listening in silence.
“Yes, doctor. All test and scans indicate she is a prime specimen. You will not be disappointed.” Someone else answered, this one having a somewhat higher-pitched voice.
“Excellent. Start the procedure immediately.” The first one answered.
Her head starting to clear up, Elis wondered what procedure they were speaking of. She managed to open her eyes a little. There wasn't much to see. She appeared to be in a brightly lit room with dark green walls. Along the wall before her, she could see a series of glass windows, through which she could observe a number of men, all dressed in charcoal-black lab coats. They were scurrying about, pressing buttons on holographic consoles much like the ones she normally assembled at the factory. She didn't know who had spoken earlier, but she had a vague feeling that at least one of them was no longer there. And that they had been speaking of her.
Suddenly, all around her, machinery whirred to life. She started looking around, trying to take in details about the room she was in. Anything to understand what was happening. To her shock, she found that she was floating over some sort of platform, levitated by some sort of machine. All around her, stood machines of all sorts, none of which were of familiar designs. However, like the holographic projector back in the square, they all gleamed as all the government tech did.
Many of the machines around her opened up, articulated arms extending out, reaching for her. She tried to squirm away, but suspended as she was, she was unable to actually move away. Within moments, the machines had grabbed her wrists, ankles, effectively immobilizing her. The servomotors built into the robotics were far too strong for anyone, let alone a woman like her, to overpower. She could only watch as another set of arms lowered down from the ceiling and started undressing her. The robotics operated with surgical precision, using some sort of focused laser beams to cut through the cloth where the arms restraining her prevented them from removing it intact. Before a minute had passed, the machines had finished their task and she was suspended there, as naked as the day she had been born.
Her only relief at this point, was twofold. Firstly, the technicians on the other side of the glass windows appeared not to be watching her and secondly, the air in the room was comfortably warm. The robotic arms then rotated her so that she faced the floor. When she lifted her head to try to see what they were doing next, she quickly found her head pushed gently back down. What happened next almost made her think the ones doing this to her had a sort of sense of humor, for moments later, an antique monitor rose from the floor, showing her what was clearly her own back.
She saw as much as felt as a series of robotic arms extended down, spraying her back with something cold. She had no idea what that was, but on some level, it scared her. But not as much as what happened next. For next, the arms extended a series of scalpels, slicing into her back. She could vaguely feel them cutting, but it did not hurt. That was the point she realized the spray had been some sort of powerful numbing agent. There was a little blood welling to the surface of the cuts, but far less than she expected.
The machines continued cutting until the cuts reached from the nape of her neck and all the way along her spine down to her tailbone. It wasn't a wide strip, but she estimated it to be maybe 3-4 cm wide. More arms reached down, attaching some sort of suction cups to the flesh, then started lifting back up. All this time, the scalpels continued cutting, eventually freeing the section from her entirely. Elis was in too deep a shock to even react as that piece of her was carried away. More arms came forth, cleaning the now-exposed part of her body. She didn't know how much time passed, but soon enough, she could see the clear white of her spine all exposed to the air. It both horrified and fascinated her.
It was obvious to her even then that the machines were far from done and it came as no surprise when they continued their work. Dozens of tiny arms came down, holding strange pieces of metal. One by one, the machines lowered them onto her exposed vertebrae, where they horrifyingly enough fit perfectly. Though they were attached to her, she felt nothing as they were. Every third piece appeared to be different from the rest, a longer piece sticking up, as well as being slightly thicker. After all thirty or so pieces had been attached, the machines started linking the pieces together. Once they were all joined, she could feel as they wrapped around her spine. It was a feeling so strange that she could not put any words to it.
The arms drew back the moment they were done, and she saw as the arms that had taken her skin and muscle away returned with it, only now there was eleven holes evenly spread through it. They lowered it back down, and each hole fit perfectly around the parts that stuck out from the metal pieces.
Two arms she had not seen before now came down, shooting some sort of beam all along the exposed openings where the scalpels had cut into her earlier. Where the beam had passed, she was surprised to see clean, unbroken skin. Not even a hint of scar tissue. The whole procedure couldn't have taken more than a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity. When they were done, the only visible difference was the eleven round holes evenly along her spine, and the fact that her back as a tiny bit thicker where the metal lay beneath the surface.
At that point, All the arms released their grip on her. Elis could move around, but the energy field suspending up from the floor her prevented her from shifting about much. One by one, the arms withdrew back into their machines. She thought perhaps they were done, but then a single, altogether different arm came forth. It started at the top of her neck and went downwards, inserting some sort of semi-transparent tubes into the exposed holes on her back, then lifted her upright. The antique monitor followed her up, showing her back.
She did not feel any different with them attached, but moments later she saw as the tubes started swelling up with some red fluid. It did not take a genius to realize the fluid had to be blood. Ever so slowly, she started to regain full feeling in her back, but it did not hurt. Within two minutes, she could pinpoint which tubes injected and which ones sucked. The mixed feelings could only be described as unnerving.
For a long time, nothing more happened. She was free to shift about how she hovered in the energy field, but she found that she could not detach the tubes. However they were attached, they sat far too firmly to give in to her strength. She quickly gave up that project. Instead, she tried to observe the technicians beyond the window. They all appeared to be regular people, youthful men she would never even have given a second look before. They appeared to be intently focused upon their work, but did not rush about the way they had before.
It was impossible to say how long she hung there, but must have been hours before she even began to notice anything changing. Eventually, many of the lab-coated men left, only to be replaced by others just as generic as the ones who left. It was maybe seven or eight hours later that she first noticed the difference in the tubes. The blood flowing through them appeared tinged with silver. It wasn't easily visible, but it was clear that there was something different about it. Shifting about, she looked at the places she knew of where her veins and arteries were close to the surface of her skin. As she had dreaded the moment she saw it in the tubes, she could clearly see the same silvery tinge on the normally blue veins visible even through her skin.
“What are you doing to me?” She screamed. If they heard her, they did not react at all. Either the lab was soundproofed, or the technicians were all deaf.
Ever so slowly, Elis found herself growing drowsy and she soon realized that she'd been awake abnormally long. She thought she drifted of many times, but shook herself awake, not knowing what would happen if she fell asleep. However, soon she found herself unable to fight the drowsiness and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. At the same time the lights slowly dimmed down in the room.
It was late at night. The skies were dark and the rain fell hard down from the skies, only broken by occasional flashes of lightning. Occasionally, a bolt would strike either one of the countless grounding rods spread throughout the City of Valmerr. The sound of the rain falling down was only broken by the booming of gongs sounding over the city alert system, summoning the people to the Holoprojectors.
Hours had passed since the last of the great factories had shut down for the night and all the people had returned home. Now, one by one or in small groups, they mustered before the gleaming machines, not one of them daring to ignore the summons. In the rich quarters up on the five hills, citizens gathered around their smaller, private holoprojectors. Some ten-fifteen minutes after the first gongs were heard, all the citizens of Valmerr stood, or sat, before a projector.
At the other end of the system, deep down in the government's vaults of carven stone, the newscasters were getting ready for the broadcast. Around them, there were technicians and tech-savants beyond count all readying the equipment for broadcast. At the center of the bustle, a small group stood, observing the citizen monitoring system, checking that not a single citizen was where he or she should not be. The bustle of the broadcast center was organized. Not one man or woman walked where he or she should not walk. They were all firmly part of the system.
Out in the city, at the very holoprojector Elis Ní Arailt had walked by alone earlier on, the people stood shoulder to shoulder. Above some few one could see the energy-based umbrellas designed and built by some of the few tech-savants not under government employ. On the rest who were not fortunate enough to have such technology, the cold rain hammered down. Aside from breathing, not one man, woman or child moved. It was impossible to say whether that was out of fear, respect or something in between.
As always, the newscasters appeared without warning. The projectors neither hummed nor made any other noises when firing up. One moment they were inactive, the next they weren't.
“Citizens of Valmerr. As you all well know, the city has these past nine cycles been plagued with people disappearing. Our benevolent and beloved queen, bless her, has charged us all with solving this problem. It is shameful for us all that more than fifty of our young women have disappeared and the one or the ones responsible have yet to be caught.
It is for this reason you have all been called here today. Today there are sad tidings. Last night, not far from this very projector, yet another of our young women disappeared. Her name, some of you might know her, was Elis Ní Arailt. She was on her way home after a productive day in the factory.
Our masterful SAR teams have been searching ever since she did not report for work, but they have, like we all have, failed to find any trace of her. The city's elected seneschal, has therefore determined that all women between 127 and 302 cycles shall have their tracking implants active at all times, rather than merely when being summoned to watch the news.
He knows well that some of you might see this as an invasion of privacy, but knows also that you as much as he hopes this will help solve the city's problem. We all thank you for your willing and unshakable approval of this.”
The holoprojectors all shut down at that point. The Citizens all turned about and returned to their homes. Upon the exposed wrists upon some women, one might occasionally see the faint yellow glow of their still-active tracking implants. Not one man, woman or child appeared to object about the new decree.
Somewhere in the lab complex, wherever that might be, the doctor too watched the news, smiling. Though it was clear that he was responsible for the women going missing, he did not seem to be perturbed by the new decree that had gone into effect. If anything, he seemed encouraged. He smiled, then whispered quietly but firmly. “Challenge accepted.”
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the complex, Elis slowly returned to consciousness. She could immediately feel that something was different. Opening her eyes, she could see every part of the room in perfect detail. Too perfect detail. If she had wanted, she could've counted the screws holding the window in place, twelve meters away.
“Impossible...” She muttered, shifting about to look at herself. Her arms obeyed her, but she could feel something was different. She looked down at them. Then she screamed. The sight that met her eyes was inhuman, revolting. Every major vein and artery was clearly visible through her skin. The thinner blood vessels were faintly visible as well. And they were all a metallic gray color. When she bent her arms, she could hear the faint clicking of tiny, tiny gears.
“No... It can't be...” she whispered, afraid of what she deep down knew to be true.
With her right hand, she squeezed around her left elbow and could feel the presence of something artificial, something that had not been there before. It was almost as if her arms were now partially robotic. She cast glances over the rest of her body. Everywhere, she could see the virtually imperceptible signs of robotics. None but her would have seen it, for she alone was intimately familiar with her body.
“It isn't true! This is a nightmare!” She screeched, only to start sobbing softly. She could see how her tendons, once white, now held a silvery metallic color, identical to that of the machines surrounding her. Even worse, through her back, she could feel the precise amounts of blood, raw materials and nutrients passing in through her ports, as well as the waste products being ejected through other ports. She could measure it with molecular precision.
What she could also feel, was how the nanites were rapidly spreading elsewhere in her body. There was no doubt in her mind that by the time the day was through, she would be more machine than woman. She folded herself into a ball, sobbing softly.
“Why are they doing this to me?” She muttered between sobs, not really expecting an answer and not getting one either.
How long she hung suspended like that, barely moving was impossible to say, but for each hour that passed, she could literally feel her awareness of her own body expanding even as the nanites slowly replaced more and more of it. Soon enough however, her mind was upgraded to such a degree that she could count every minute and every second passing. She was terrified of this, for though she had never had a habit of being late for anything, she had never really cared about time overmuch. She didn't want to know the passage of time. Nor the tens of thousands of other minutiae the machines that now were a part of her let her know.
She didn't want to know how the tens of thousands now in her liver were improving its function a hundredfold. She didn't want to be some sort of robot. It was wrong! Why hadn't they asked her? She didn't know, and was afraid to ask. Not that she expected anyone to answer even if she did ask.
Seven hours, twenty-seven minutes and twelve point two-hundred and thirty-seven seconds later, she could feel the presence of the computer system nearby. While that of course also terrified her, some small part was curious. She reached out towards it. Not physically, of course, but mentally. It appeared to have heavy firewalls in place to prevent intrusions. But by this time, her mind was more machine than woman, 62.12% of its cells replaced by nanite constructs. That made her far more advanced than the system. It was child's play to find a path through the forbidding walls surrounding the system. She wanted to learn all there was to learn from it, and nothing would stop her. Nothing.
It took quite a while for any of the technicians in the control room to notice, but eventually one of them did. At first, he didn't know what to make of it. Something was accessing records all over the system, consuming considerable amounts of processing power and memory.
“We're being hacked?” he muttered, disbelieving. They had some of the finest security systems available, yet whomever this hacker was, he or she bypassed them as if they weren't even there! He leaped up from his workstation, running towards the master's office.
“Master! Someone's hacking our systems! Bypassing firewalls as if they're not even there!” he shouted, even as he knocked repeatedly and hard on the doctor's office.
It took less than a minute before the door opened. The doctor stepped out, looking somewhat disturbed.
“WHO? Who is hacking our system? Is it the seneschal's men? Have you disconnected the external hardlines?” he all but shouted at the minion, his face hard with anger.
“Its not external and the hardline hasn't been connected at all today, master!” the minion answered, cringing back and down under the doctor's fury.
For a few moments, the doctor did not say anything, thinking it over. “The subject. It has to be her... I will deal with her personally. Draw her in. Feed her information to distract her. Lead her on a chase around the system before she realizes that she can assume control over it. NOW!”
The minion ran off, terrified both of what failure could mean and of the the fact that the master never got directly involved. He would have answered, but knew better than to speak back.
The doctor followed behind him, then past him as he started to work at the workstation, directing the other minions to do the same as he was. Coming to the triple airlock, the doctor stepped in. It took a full minute to pass through the cycles, time he would have preferred not to use, but lab sterility was too important to ignore. His pace across the vastness of the open lab was relentless. The subject's eyes were closed, so he doubted she could see him approaching. He did not care if she could. She could do nothing to stop him even if she could.
The systems controlling her containment were isolated from everything else, even running on a separate power supply. He could see the difference in her body from a long distance. The nanites had spread far and wide, consuming much of her body. It was a fascinating sight to see a human body replaced to such a degree by nanites. In some ways, it was unfortunate that he had to do this, but the alternative was unthinkable.
“I am sorry. But like the others, you are a failure.” he whispered.
He pulled out a small device from one of his pockets. It wasn't much larger than a syringe, but infinitely more dangerous. He pushed his hands through the energy field containing the subject, then pressed the device in, right above her neck port, then pressed the activation button. At first, nothing happened, then her body first started shuddering, then shaking wildly. It wasn't easy to keep the device in place, but he managed to do so. After a minute he was done. He put the device away, then rotated the subject's body. Her eyes were blank. Empty. Vacant.
He thought about shutting down the nanites, but with them having reverted back to their base programming, there was no real need. Besides, keeping them intact would give more data to work with. Perhaps allow him to find a quicker solution to this issue. The woman below him was no longer a threat, her mind completely wiped from existence. All that remained now, was a biomechanical shell. She would now never reach the hoped-for potential, but that was of no concern. Subjects like her were easy to find.
Besides, he thought, she could still be of some use. Within two days, the shell of a body below him would be fully saturated by the nanites. At that point, all he would need to do is program it. Give it a basic operating system. A menial purpose, of course. Building a full mind was impossible. There were too many details to cover to even begin doing so.
Even as he walked back out of the lab, ideas for how to use the shell that once was Elis Ní Arailt flew through his mind. Though the core project had yet to be a success, he could not help but smile. Nothing would be wasted. He would simply have to start over on a new test subject. No more, no less. He even had some subjects in mind... But before he could do that, he would have to prepare another lab. The current one could not be reused. It did not matter. He had the technology to build a hundred labs if he wanted. All he needed to do so, was time.
While a full cycle had passed since the last disappearance, the people could not breathe easily, for it was clear to them all that the culprit behind the disappearances had not been caught. They all knew the Seneschal always made announcements whenever major criminals were caught. Some were no doubt afraid that their rights and freedoms would be further restricted. Others held on to the hope that the latest decree had successfully scared the criminal from further crimes, but these were in the minority. Most citizens and members of the government alike were far too disillusioned to believe in such fantasies.
Few, if any, were surprised when the summons once more sounded, this time early in the morning, when most were on their way to work. In the dim light of dawn, thousands of men and women turned towards the nearest holoprojector, then started walking. While some of the people of the 4th hill chose to return to their homes, most chose to go to the public terminals. High up on the hill, that meant Hrodlaf's square, where the projector rested upon the shoulders of nine 201st decade statues, their faces all but impossible to recognize due to the wear and tear of time.
The moment they were all there, the newscaster fired up, despite the fact that many other terminals were still gathering crowds. That was one of the many advantages of having unique speakers for each quarter and terminal.
“Citizens of Valmerr. Thank you all for delaying your journey to work in order to listen. Your willingness to listen to the words of our trusted Seneschal does him great honor. Ever since the disappearance of Elis Ní Arailt, one cycle ago on her way home from work, the SAR services have been working without pause in trying to track her down. You all know she is but the last in the long line of women who have disappeared. Though you all have the tracker implants and have had them since right after the dark times, it has proven impossible to reactivate hers. It is not registering on any system in the city nor surrounding it.” With those words, the were murmurs passing around the crowd gathered before the terminal. Their city was being made a mockery of! For decades before these times, no one had ever gone missing long. The City SAR services had been known throughout the nation for their expertise.
“Silence!” The newscaster shouted, and the crowd immediately stopped murmuring. “Two hours ago, with great sadness, I learned that another two of our young women disappeared.” He paused for a moment to the gasps of the crowd, then continued. “All investigators are perplexed by their disappearance. Where the other fifty-three all disappeared outside, these two young women disappeared right from their very homes. The first one, Eleen níc Griogair, daughter of our trusted seneschal, disappeared during her morning exercise session, her treadmill still running when her mother came by to check on her. With the doors all watched and the windows barred, no one understands how she could have gotten out.”
He paused for a few moments to let the crowd absorb the news. He could clearly see the willingness to murder in the eyes of some and was glad he was not the culprit. “The other, Katya Ní Coitir, daughter of the SAR commander herself, was in the middle of a shower, her parents both already having been up for hours, working ceaselessly upon the task of finding the missing women.”
In the background, someone muttered “serves them right. Now its personal for them too.”
The newscaster did not even have to pause to identify the man and quickly determined that he had lost his eldest daughter early on. Because of that, he did not make a note in the system against the man, despite the rules saying he should. “The government, may they serve the people for all time, has determined that this means the culprits have access to military grade teleportation technology. As such, they have realized that the previous precautions are far from sufficient. As such, while the tracking beacons will not be deactivated, all other regulations set in by the crisis are lifted. However, there is one small new decree. All women between 176 and 264 cycles must from this point forward always be in the company of a man, either a coworker or a relative. There will be no exceptions, no excuses. They know full well how inconveniencing this can be, but it is all for the best. Thank you all for obeying.”
With that, the holographic projector shut down, not allowing anyone time to ask questions or complain or demand to be exempted from the rule. Though many felt offended by this, they dared not disobey. They all quickly sorted themselves into groups, then moved onwards to their jobs.
The doctor stepped out of the teleporter, laughing. It had been a roaring success! Not only had he snatched the Seneschal's daughter from her exercise room, but he had taken the SAR commander's daughter right from under her parents' noses! They were working obsessively with identifying and tracking him down, and were utterly oblivious to him being right next to them. He had to struggle to stop laughing.
Already the minions were maneuvering the two new test subjects to the new lab. Soon they would both be injected with his special blend of anti-viral, anti-bacterial and anti-pathogenic agents. The doctor could not have any of his subjects unclean. Once he managed to stop laughing, he returned to his private quarters, changed into a fresh, and dry, set of clothes and grabbed his latest inventions. He could not wait to test them!
He walked slowly to the labs, stopping briefly to check on the system that was running simulations for uses for the shell of the previous test subject, then entered the new lab. Like the older labs, he had its walls a dark green color and the room brightly lit. There were no dark shadows anywhere. He was no mad scientist to work in one of those silly medieval castles. Not only was it exposed, but the uncleanliness of such facilities? Terrible.
He approached the Seneschal's daughter first. “Eleen...” he murmured, letting the taste of the name flow over his tongue. From his lab-coat, he pulled a pair of sterile scissors, then carefully cut away her clothes. Sure, he could've had the machines do it, but he felt he owed the Seneschal's daughter the honor of doing it personally. Besides, with her choice of dress for exercise, it was hardly much work. He dropped the dismantled clothes into the incinerator, knowing the machines would take care of them.
At one hundred and ninety-six cycles, her body was still not fully mature, but he could see the great potential to it. If he had not been above fraternizing with lab subjects, he would no doubt have found her quite attractive. Not that he would have ever considered mating with her without her permission. There are, quite simply, some things one shall never do. At the top of that list stood rape. He had no trouble with euthanasia when it came to failed experiments, but there are some things no one should ever do to anyone.
He reached into his coat, pulling out one of the two inventions he intended to test this day. In some ways, it resembled the back half of a collar, with short projections out where the back of the neck would be. Reaching up, he pulled down the arm with the pain pacifier spray, which automatically sprayed her neck with it. Then he held the invention up to admire it for a few seconds, before snapping it into place on her neck. The device immediately began adjusting itself, digging deep into her neck.
In the silence of the lab, it was easy to hear the sound of grinding and gnashing as the device found its way in to the woman's fifth and sixth cervical vertebrae, then attached itself firmly there. On the sides, the twin sets of metallic braces slid through the device and in underneath the skin of the woman's throat, hooking into her carotid arteries and her jugulars. There was but a brief, momentary lapse in the flow of blood to and from her brain as the tubes inside the braces filled with blood. He did not hesitate when reaching up to find the thick tube up in the ceiling and hooking it into the now-fully installed neck port.
The moment he had attached it, it started filling with blood from the system. In order to increase the efficiency of his upgrade protocols, the blood was already saturated with nanites and raw materials, which would in turn quickly spread out into her body. He needed to increase the efficiency greatly if he was to complete his final plan. After that, he gently repositioned the young woman back upright in the suspension field, then stepped back. In time, he knew, the nanites would construct new access ports in her body, which in turn would automatically be connected to the additional tubes found in the ceiling. He did not know when she would wake up, but hoped she would not react quite as badly as the last one.
He eyed the faint yellow glow from her left wrist where the still-active tracker was, but saw no reason to remove it. They were far beyond the range of the tracking system. Once satisfied that nothing untoward would happen to the subject, he withdrew further, then approached the second test subject, the SAR commander's daughter, Katya Ní Coitir.
Unlike her unknowing, raven-haired companion, Katya appeared to already be approaching consciousness again. The doctor looked her over. She was, as test subjects go, perfect. Looking at the holographic data readout on the side, he saw that she was two hundred and eleven cycles, eight days and five hours old. The differences in level of maturity were subtle but clear. She was a good deal more attractive because of them, but he would never break his rule of fraternizing with test subjects. It was wrong.
Her skin had the pale tone typical to the elite and her body was free from flaws like excess fat or scars. He had no trouble seeing just why the SAR commander was known for doting on her this way. From earlier subjects, he knew that the agents he used to subdue his test subjects always left them groggy and somewhat confused, their short-term memories tended to be fuzzy. He could probably have removed those side-effects if he wanted, but that would only have made it harder to convince them to trust him.
“Morning, ma'am.” he said to her calmly. “I know you're a bit confused right now. The fuzziness will pass soon.”
“W-where am I?” she murmured, clearly just as confused as the doctor knew she'd be.
He smiled at her fondly, the way only a doctor of many years can do at a patient waking up for the first time could. “You're in a safe place, child. Your mother and father fears for your safety and had you brought here to ensure that no one could take you from them.”
“They requested that I make sure nothing will harm you again. It will be all right.”
He did not lie when saying these words to her. He simply did not speak the truth the way others would see it. He knew more than enough about her parents to know that her safety was the highest priority in their minds at all times. That was one of the primary reasons he had chosen her for this particular experiment.
“W-who are you?” She asked, still confused.
“I'm your new doctor. Just as I don't need to know your name, you don't need to know mine. The treatment I am about to give you may hurt momentarily and it will make you feel a bit odd, but it will make you safe. Do you want it now, or do you want to wait?” Initially he had no plans to delay it, but it would be nice for the sake of the experiment to have a voluntary acceptance of the upgrades. At least as voluntary as it could be without giving away any detailed information.
The woman appeared to be oblivious to her nudity when she nodded. “Do it now. No use delaying.”
“Excellent. If you would pull aside your hair? The injection must go into your neck.” he asked her, maintaining his calm demeanor as he did. The girl pulled it aside, baring her neck and back. The doctor was thankful that he had found better ways to do this than he had had with the first fifty-three girls. Pulling the invention out from his coat, he smiled a little. The design was more or less the same as the one used on the Seneschal's daughter, but sleeker, less invasive. Like with the first, he sprayed her neck with a little of the deadening agent, as pain was unnecessary to give the test subjects.
He pressed it gently against the back of her neck, then activated it. The device made several incisions into her skin, then slid underneath the exposed flaps of skin and muscle, which then fused back together using single-use pellets of the mending beams. After reaching the preprogrammed location, half the device detached. The implant would need neither scalpels nor mending beam emitters later. He pulled the now-defunct components away, sticking them in a pocket for later disposal.
“I will now attach the IV tube and monitoring cable, to ensure that the injection works right. I do hope you don't mind.” Like before, she nodded. Remarkably trusting, he thought as he attached the tube, which would rapidly saturate her system with nanites. The moment the tube was attached and flooded with blood, the prongs inside the device hooked into her carotid arteries and her jugular veins. By hooking into these, her brain would rapidly be saturated with nanites, and the blood could similarly be filled with new nanites after passing through the brain on its way down through her jugular veins.
“There. All done. Now all you need to do is relax and wait.” he smiled fondly at her, even as he took a few steps back. Out of respect, he averted his eyes from her nudity.
“Would you like to have anything while you wait? I can't offer much due to this lab being sealed to all signals, but I'll offer what I can.” The decision to play friendly with her promoted all sorts of new ideas in his mind. Like many experiments, he had no idea what it'd end up being.
“Could I have some music? Symphonic, like that of the ancient people?” she asked sweetly. The doctor was quite frankly shocked. He had never expected a request like that. He'd been prepared for food, clothes, drink, maybe a book? But music? Never.
“I can arrange that. Might take a few minutes, but I'll get it.” He walked off, trying to clear his head and puzzle out how to arrange that, thankful that the two halves of the lab were partitioned off from each other and not readily visible. After maybe ten minutes, he'd gotten the minions to assemble a simple speaker system of sufficient quality, then had it sterilized and sent into the lab.
He went through the airlocks and set it up. With his familiar obsession with precision, he positioned the various speakers in perfect alignment around her, then activated the system. He had no idea what she might like, so he'd acquired a small selection and put it into a remotely accessible holographic interface. She'd be able switch between the various composers at will.
He placed the interface projector on the floor before her, then adjusted the settings so the display would be at the right height. Looking up, he could see that her veins were already starting to change. The new nanite feed on this model was worlds more efficient than the previous ones. Katya quickly scrolled through the interface, then selected something, which started playing immediately. The doctor might not have much interest in music himself, but he could not provide anything below top quality to his patients, be it medical care, equipment, confidentiality or entertainment.
He did not recognize the music, but could not feel anything but relaxed by it. The woman simply hung there, her eyes closed and her breathing slow and steady, clearly listening to the music. Somewhat entranced by her calmness, he almost thought he could see the nanites spreading through her body. She rotated slowly in the suspension field, the joints high up on the tubes designed to ensure that twisting could not pose any problems for it. On the fifth rotation, some fifteen-twenty minutes later, he saw that the first of the many new feeder ports had been fully assembled. Unlike before, it did not stick out. It was simply a 4 mm wide hole in her skin. Right on cue, a robotic arm lowered down from the ceiling, sticking a second tube into the hole, then folding back into the roof.
This was the quickest conversion yet. If it was successful, he had no doubts it would soon be time to launch the final plan. He smiled to himself knowingly. He had spread more than enough confusion in the ranks of the government to ensure that they would never see it coming.
He pondered watching longer, but decided that it was time to lay down the final pieces for the end plan. It was undeniably a success to take the daughters of the SAR commander and the Seneschal, but they were small fish. With that, he turned about, leaving the lab, just missing the sight of the third tube being attached to Katya's back.
When the chain of symphonies she'd programmed the system to play ended some two hundred and seventy-two minutes later, Katya could feel the difference. Whatever the good doctor had done, it had removed all trace of exhaustion from her body and mind. She couldn't recall when she had been this refreshed last, if she ever had. She could feel every part of her body, sense their every potential. The strength of her muscles. The effectiveness of her liver. The durability of her bones and tendons. The throughput of her spinal ports.
A stray thought surfaced from somewhere deep down, asking about what she meant by spinal ports, asking where those came from, but she quickly squashed that trail. A quick simulation told her that there was a 61.73% chance of her reacting badly if she followed that path of thinking. That probability was uncomfortably high so she determined not to pursue it.
She looked down at her arms. All over, she could see the network of gray outlining her blood vessels, from the dense gray of her primary veins and arteries, to the haze of her outermost capillaries. But it did not freak her out. She could sense it all, and it all made sense. Her body, her mind, it all fit together, and deep inside her brain, she could see how.
Even as the changes slowly spread further and further, she did a quick analysis of how her body had changed. The nanites responded instantly. On average, a 12.03% increase in muscle firmness. 1.26% increase in breast size. 18.92% increase in body mass. All within expected parameters. Sending her senses deeper, she could feel the new constructs around her spine. Like all the other changes, they were acceptable to her. When complete they would give an 82.03% reduction in chance for trauma caused by blunt force. Similarly, the nanites now permeating her skin increased its durability by 78.41% and its rate of repair if damaged by 871.66%.
She had no doubt that all these statistics would have driven most others insane, but she personally only found them fascinating. There was a computer system at the other end of the connection with her back, but she did not find it intriguing. Not the way her body now was. Some small part of her wondered why her mother had asked the doctor to put her through this, but like so many other things, Katya found herself not caring. It was the perfect gift. She could only guess at what she would be able to do once her body was fully saturated and enhanced. She smiled to herself.
At the other side of the lab, the transition was in its final stages for Eleen níc Griogair, but unlike Katya, she was not even aware she'd been chosen for the upgrades, having been kept artificially unconscious the entire time. The doctor stood watching the final few bits of the process with curiosity. On a hologram beside the body, he could see the number steadily climb towards 100%. While it did not make the test exactly the same, he had programmed the code for Katya to receive some 5% more nanites, just to be sure they would not finish at the exact same time. He could do many things, but be in two places at the same time was not one of them. Nor was focusing on two subjects at once.
The moment the indicator hit 100%, he saw the nanites begin to perform their final task. Her body was almost gray with the saturation. No one would think her to be human that way. But that was the ingenuity of it all. He activated that particular program before he released her mind from its containment. First, the tubes all slipped out, one by one. Then the data cable in her neck slipped out, even as the data port folded in on itself, sliding in under the skin. It wouldn't be invisible to a scan, but neither would it be blatantly visible for all to see. Then her very skin seemed to shimmer as the nanites took on the color of human skin. Within moments, her skin looked exactly like it had before her enhancement. Only then did he send the signal to release her mind.
One moment, Eleen was asleep, or rather, unconscious. The next, she was wide awake, as if she'd been that way for a long time. She wasn't the least bit drowsy. Countless numbers flitted through her mind. She did not comprehend them. Last thing she recalled was running on the treadmill. Now she hung in some sort of room, a suspension field keeping her up from the floor and incapable of going anywhere. And she was stark naked. She wondered what was going on. Again the numbers popped forward. Again they failed to make sense.
She couldn't see the connections between it all. Where was her father, the seneschal? Why was she here? Where was here? For a third time, numbers appeared in her head, this time in twin sets. She stared at them for a few moments, not understanding. What did those numbers have to do with anything? And for that matter, where did they come from?
It was at that point the word 'coordinates' appeared above the numbers. She tried to understand where that could be, but found herself unable. Something blocked her. Some sort of seal on the room. She did not like that. Her chain of thoughts blocked, she focused elsewhere. There had to be something worth focusing upon. She tried to make sense of how she had gotten there, but her memory was strangely blank. One moment she'd been exercising, the next she woke up here.
Again she let questions flow through her mind. What had happened? Where was she? Why was she here? How did she get here? Who was the man before her? And, more importantly, why was she naked? Her panic was rapidly building up. As a sort of self-defense, she drew back into herself. It was the only viable option.
The doctor could quickly see that something was wrong with the second subject. Her mind wasn't rejecting the upgrades, but appeared to be rejecting reality. Clearly the method used on her was... faulty. He had been afraid that might be the case after the apparent success with the other subject.
Even as he watched, he could see her eyes go blank, her body stop moving for anything except breathing.
“Oh well...” He muttered, pulling out the same device he'd used on subject #53. He walked up to her, pressing it into the side of her neck, triggering it instantly. Within seconds, her mind was completely wiped. No trace of the person once known as Eleen níc Griogair remained beyond a physical husk. With that taken care of, he wandered over to observe his other test subject complete her upgrades.
“You know... You shouldn't have lied to me.” Katya said to the doctor the moment he appeared.
“I know my mother would never intentionally ask anyone to do something like this to me.” She could see panic in his eyes and laughed.
“She's a short-sighted fool, doctor.” He appeared to be fingering something in his left pocket, but stood there uncertain. She laughed a little more.
“If she had had my level of comprehension, she would have caught you long ago. Now it is too late. I no longer see any reason for why you should be punished. You have given me a great gift, doctor... The gift of eternal life and the ultimate understanding.” When she spoke, her face barely showed any glimmer of emotion.
“You have a greater plan in progress, yes? My analysis indicates that has to be the case, as I am not in any position to affect whatever changes you wish for.” Katya could see the panic slip from his eyes, replaced by wonder. He let go of whatever he had in his pocket. She guessed it was a weapon of some kind. Something that could have destroyed her.
“Yes. I seek to change the nation. I seek, quite simply, to replace the so-called benevolent queen with a stronger, younger monarch. One infinitely more powerful. One who is fair.” he did not hesitate more than a few moments, nor did he lie. It was readily apparent to him that she somehow could read lies for what they were.
She smiled. “I surmised as much. Your honesty is refreshing. I will aid you.”
“How?” he asked, curious.
“The previous subjects. Since they were never found and you continued taking people, it is fair to assume they did not work out. There is a 96.13% probability that you used the device in your left pocket on them. I can sense a small power source, but I cannot understand what it does. What does it do?”
He looked back at her, shocked at how quickly she had seen through it all. “It wipes the biological mind. I used it on failed subjects to render them inert.”
“Good. The wiped subjects – you still have them, right?”
“Y-yes?” he answered once more, a little confused.
“Good. I will need them. Oh, and I will need some clothes. Ones like your own will serve. Have your minions bring the blank slates and sufficient clothes here. I will make them useful for our plan.”
“Our plan?” he replied, a bit shocked. He had not expected this. Some small part of him wanted to wipe her mind just to be on the safe side, but another, more sensible part realized that wouldn't work. He'd come up short with every attempt to plan the final details of the great plan. She had seen right. He did need her. And that, more than anything, frustrated him. He was supposed to be better! He was supposed to be able to do anything on his own!
But he knew there was no way around it. He went to the wall, then pressed the buttons necessary to instruct the minions in their new tasks as well as lowering the signal barrier around the room. Within minutes, all of it arrived.
“Yes. Our plan. I can see in your eyes that you need me.” She then made a simple gesture and he heard a sound that was neither metallic nor biological, but something in between as she dropped to the floor. She tested her limbs a few moments, then strode over to the clothes. They weren't much, but she found a simple shirt, pants and lab coat that fit reasonably well. There were no undergarments designed for a woman there, but she did not really need that. Her body could more than sufficiently support itself. The shirt was a 11.62% smaller than optimal, the the pants 3.05% too large, but still within acceptable parameters. Her breasts, having increased in size by 7.55% compared to their original size, strained a little against the shirt, which of course, was designed for a man. The lab coat, however, fit perfectly. Though she did not need it, she also put on a pair of shoes. With a side-thought, her hair tied itself up, a few of the longer strands wrapping around the rest to keep it in place. Not one hair was out of place.
“There. Now we can begin working.” She did not give any reaction to his shocked look. Apparently he had not seen someone's hair tie itself up before. 'humans...' she thought, then continued approaching the first of the shell-bodies.
There were only two of them. “What happened to the rest?” she asked him.
“Ruined. The nanites did not bond properly. They all became abominations. Some had to be destroyed, others were inhuman. I kept clear records in the system.”
Now that the Faraday cage was disabled, she could access the system remotely. The firewalls, if they could be called such, were no obstacles. She needed but a few seconds to find the right files, then only a few seconds more to absorb it all. “Got it. I can see where you went wrong. Though you stumbled a bit in your attempts, you had a decent rate of progression. #12, #27 & #44 showed you some keen insights into the right ways to do this. You really should have been more trusting, you know. If you'd befriended more subjects, you would have had far fewer failures. But I guess its only good for me you didn't.”
He halted mid-step. “You studied all my notes on all my subjects in ten seconds?!?” He was slowly coming to terms with just how powerful her mind had become.
“Yes.” she answered, succinctly. Then she placed her hands on the sides of the inert Elis' head. She connected her nanites to those of the shell. At first they were slow to respond, confused, but slowly they started to respond. There were fractures of the biological mind left, but they were scattered. It was easy enough to wipe them away completely. The original personality would not have been trustworthy. Instead, she copied herself into the shell. With such a large area of contact, that took but a few minutes. With each minute, she could feel her mind expand. So long as she would remain in proximity of her new selves, her minds would work in unison, the whole be greater than the sum of its parts. She wondered if the doctor had any idea of that.
~|~
The doctor's plan, which quickly found itself absorbed and virtually consumed by Katya ní Coitir, moved without pause from that point forward. Within a cycle, despite the increasingly challenging new security measures, they had seized more than four score new subjects. While half of those proved incompatible with the nanites' minds, these were erased and replaced by copies of Katya or one of her cybernetic sisters.
It is hard to say for sure exactly when he began to realize just how interconnected and powerful his creations were, but by the time he understood it, it was far too late. He was in far too deeply. After all, he still desired to change the world. Some sacrifices were necessary for that. He just did not quite know how many.
Even long before she figured out what was going on, the crown princess knew something had changed within the palace. Like everyone else, she had paid close attention to the events in Valmerr these past many cycles. She didn’t care overmuch about the women disappearing, but it made her chuckle a little just how frustrating her mother found it. She certainly didn’t worry about it.
Though members of the palace staff were frequently replaced, typically for incompetence or minor mistakes, which was fully deserved she thought, one day the frequency of blunders rapidly decreased. With lowly citizens, mistakes were expected and punished accordingly, but with the latest batch, the mistakes didn't come. In fact, they rapidly grew inhumanly efficient. Always on hand, almost as if they had begun to communicate. Servants should not take initiative. It was... Wrong.
Late one night, she decided that enough was enough. It was intolerable. A confrontation had to happen. She would do it the next day. No later. Sleep would come first, of course.
They knew almost instantly when the princess first took notice of them. It was Inevitable, so rather than hide it, they made it blatantly obvious to her and made their preparations at a sufficiently increased pace. From the first moment one of them had found her way into the service of her royal highness, the brain scan had been running. Thus they had easily calculated when she would confront them. It was no struggle at all to finish prior to that.
It was late at night when they started the processing. They had for the past two weeks been altering her bed, installing the necessary technology into its framework. Some might have thought that hard to conceal, but with nanites, it was rather simple.
They initiated the machines, then woke the princess up. "it is time, your highness."
She had stared strangely at them, clearly muddled by sleep, nodding confused while trying to shake off sleep. They of course did not allow her to do that before starting. The freshly installed gravity nullification field raised her up even as machines pulled the bedding aside. Where a bed had been before, an improvised lab station now stood, the princess suspended within. She was still not fully awake when the integration and upgrading began.
Each of the twelve present linked up with her seconds after the obligatory neck port was installed. This not only increased her rate of integration, but also allowed them to share knowledge directly. The princess was defenseless against it. Within hours, er entire body had been enhanced. With the shared knowledge, she had no way to resist their infallible logic. Mercilessly she had no choice about whether to become one of them.
The question that outsiders might ask, had they not been oblivious to it all, is whether she would command or be commanded. Her seizure of the throne was inevitable. The second question to ask is what sort of queen she would be.
Would she be naughty or nice? Would the kingdom rise to new heights? Or would it be ground to dust under her nanite-infused heel? And finally, who was this doctor and what was his role in the end?
OOC: The use of "cycles" in the story is meant to equal a month. For unspecific reasons, the setting world has 11 months per year.
~~~
Though the City of Valmerr was far from bankrupt, it did not have access to unlimited money either. As such, the further you got from the city core and the main thoroughfares, the greater the distance between the streetlights. In the old workman quarter near the great river Nith, the lights faded with sunset as the few remaining factories shut down for the night and the workers went home. On this evening, with just a tiny sliver of the moon visible, the cramped streets were dim indeed. The few who were out and about all walked resolutely towards their goal, paying no heed to anyone else other than to avoid crashing into them.
In some ways, the fading light was peaceful. In others, it was menacing. Some might even have said malevolent. It was upon just one such street, not far from the river itself, that the woman known as Elis ní Arailt walked. Like most others she was headed home after a long day's work. She wasn't anything special. Average height, average build, A worker's green jumpsuit that clearly had seen better days, her fairly short, brown hair was just long enough to be tied into a ponytail at the back of her head. In other words, the average young factory worker.
What thoughts were going through her head is impossible to say. Perhaps she thought of her work, or perhaps she thought of what to make for dinner. Or it might have been the coworker she had a special eye out for. Her expression revealed nothing about it. After turning another corner, she passed the small square where the old fountain stood, now topped by the holographic projector used by the government newscasters. The gleaming metal framework holding the projector up contrasted heavily with the ancient stone of the fountain. In fact, it contrasted with everything in the square.
She was thankful the projector was inactive at this time, as all it brought these days was bad news. Elis picked up her pace, wanting to be far away just in case the projector fired up again. By the time the projector was both out of sight and out of hearing, she could see no other people around her at all. On one hand, it was a relief. No others meant nobody to trouble her. On the other hand, it meant nobody to see if something did happen.
With that thought in mind, she touched her wrist where the government tracker implant lay, then kept walking home. The only warning she had was a sudden, but very short, burst of air. She did not know what to make of it, let alone have time to think on it, before someone grabbed her from behind.
She started to scream, but before she could, a hand covered in a glove of matte black leather pressed a small piece of foul-smelling cloth against her mouth and nose. Then she knew no more.
~|~
Ever so slowly, Elis started to regain consciousness. Her head felt like it was stuffed with wool, her eyes refused to open yet. Her throat felt parched. She tried to shift and found that she was not bound. In the distance, she could faintly hear someone speaking.
“Is she compatible?” A man said, his clear baritone timbre ringing through the air. She was curious who he might be. And where she was, for that matter, but continued listening in silence.
“Yes, doctor. All test and scans indicate she is a prime specimen. You will not be disappointed.” Someone else answered, this one having a somewhat higher-pitched voice.
“Excellent. Start the procedure immediately.” The first one answered.
Her head starting to clear up, Elis wondered what procedure they were speaking of. She managed to open her eyes a little. There wasn't much to see. She appeared to be in a brightly lit room with dark green walls. Along the wall before her, she could see a series of glass windows, through which she could observe a number of men, all dressed in charcoal-black lab coats. They were scurrying about, pressing buttons on holographic consoles much like the ones she normally assembled at the factory. She didn't know who had spoken earlier, but she had a vague feeling that at least one of them was no longer there. And that they had been speaking of her.
Suddenly, all around her, machinery whirred to life. She started looking around, trying to take in details about the room she was in. Anything to understand what was happening. To her shock, she found that she was floating over some sort of platform, levitated by some sort of machine. All around her, stood machines of all sorts, none of which were of familiar designs. However, like the holographic projector back in the square, they all gleamed as all the government tech did.
Many of the machines around her opened up, articulated arms extending out, reaching for her. She tried to squirm away, but suspended as she was, she was unable to actually move away. Within moments, the machines had grabbed her wrists, ankles, effectively immobilizing her. The servomotors built into the robotics were far too strong for anyone, let alone a woman like her, to overpower. She could only watch as another set of arms lowered down from the ceiling and started undressing her. The robotics operated with surgical precision, using some sort of focused laser beams to cut through the cloth where the arms restraining her prevented them from removing it intact. Before a minute had passed, the machines had finished their task and she was suspended there, as naked as the day she had been born.
Her only relief at this point, was twofold. Firstly, the technicians on the other side of the glass windows appeared not to be watching her and secondly, the air in the room was comfortably warm. The robotic arms then rotated her so that she faced the floor. When she lifted her head to try to see what they were doing next, she quickly found her head pushed gently back down. What happened next almost made her think the ones doing this to her had a sort of sense of humor, for moments later, an antique monitor rose from the floor, showing her what was clearly her own back.
She saw as much as felt as a series of robotic arms extended down, spraying her back with something cold. She had no idea what that was, but on some level, it scared her. But not as much as what happened next. For next, the arms extended a series of scalpels, slicing into her back. She could vaguely feel them cutting, but it did not hurt. That was the point she realized the spray had been some sort of powerful numbing agent. There was a little blood welling to the surface of the cuts, but far less than she expected.
The machines continued cutting until the cuts reached from the nape of her neck and all the way along her spine down to her tailbone. It wasn't a wide strip, but she estimated it to be maybe 3-4 cm wide. More arms reached down, attaching some sort of suction cups to the flesh, then started lifting back up. All this time, the scalpels continued cutting, eventually freeing the section from her entirely. Elis was in too deep a shock to even react as that piece of her was carried away. More arms came forth, cleaning the now-exposed part of her body. She didn't know how much time passed, but soon enough, she could see the clear white of her spine all exposed to the air. It both horrified and fascinated her.
It was obvious to her even then that the machines were far from done and it came as no surprise when they continued their work. Dozens of tiny arms came down, holding strange pieces of metal. One by one, the machines lowered them onto her exposed vertebrae, where they horrifyingly enough fit perfectly. Though they were attached to her, she felt nothing as they were. Every third piece appeared to be different from the rest, a longer piece sticking up, as well as being slightly thicker. After all thirty or so pieces had been attached, the machines started linking the pieces together. Once they were all joined, she could feel as they wrapped around her spine. It was a feeling so strange that she could not put any words to it.
The arms drew back the moment they were done, and she saw as the arms that had taken her skin and muscle away returned with it, only now there was eleven holes evenly spread through it. They lowered it back down, and each hole fit perfectly around the parts that stuck out from the metal pieces.
Two arms she had not seen before now came down, shooting some sort of beam all along the exposed openings where the scalpels had cut into her earlier. Where the beam had passed, she was surprised to see clean, unbroken skin. Not even a hint of scar tissue. The whole procedure couldn't have taken more than a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity. When they were done, the only visible difference was the eleven round holes evenly along her spine, and the fact that her back as a tiny bit thicker where the metal lay beneath the surface.
At that point, All the arms released their grip on her. Elis could move around, but the energy field suspending up from the floor her prevented her from shifting about much. One by one, the arms withdrew back into their machines. She thought perhaps they were done, but then a single, altogether different arm came forth. It started at the top of her neck and went downwards, inserting some sort of semi-transparent tubes into the exposed holes on her back, then lifted her upright. The antique monitor followed her up, showing her back.
She did not feel any different with them attached, but moments later she saw as the tubes started swelling up with some red fluid. It did not take a genius to realize the fluid had to be blood. Ever so slowly, she started to regain full feeling in her back, but it did not hurt. Within two minutes, she could pinpoint which tubes injected and which ones sucked. The mixed feelings could only be described as unnerving.
For a long time, nothing more happened. She was free to shift about how she hovered in the energy field, but she found that she could not detach the tubes. However they were attached, they sat far too firmly to give in to her strength. She quickly gave up that project. Instead, she tried to observe the technicians beyond the window. They all appeared to be regular people, youthful men she would never even have given a second look before. They appeared to be intently focused upon their work, but did not rush about the way they had before.
It was impossible to say how long she hung there, but must have been hours before she even began to notice anything changing. Eventually, many of the lab-coated men left, only to be replaced by others just as generic as the ones who left. It was maybe seven or eight hours later that she first noticed the difference in the tubes. The blood flowing through them appeared tinged with silver. It wasn't easily visible, but it was clear that there was something different about it. Shifting about, she looked at the places she knew of where her veins and arteries were close to the surface of her skin. As she had dreaded the moment she saw it in the tubes, she could clearly see the same silvery tinge on the normally blue veins visible even through her skin.
“What are you doing to me?” She screamed. If they heard her, they did not react at all. Either the lab was soundproofed, or the technicians were all deaf.
Ever so slowly, Elis found herself growing drowsy and she soon realized that she'd been awake abnormally long. She thought she drifted of many times, but shook herself awake, not knowing what would happen if she fell asleep. However, soon she found herself unable to fight the drowsiness and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. At the same time the lights slowly dimmed down in the room.
~| Meanwhile, somewhere else |~
It was late at night. The skies were dark and the rain fell hard down from the skies, only broken by occasional flashes of lightning. Occasionally, a bolt would strike either one of the countless grounding rods spread throughout the City of Valmerr. The sound of the rain falling down was only broken by the booming of gongs sounding over the city alert system, summoning the people to the Holoprojectors.
Hours had passed since the last of the great factories had shut down for the night and all the people had returned home. Now, one by one or in small groups, they mustered before the gleaming machines, not one of them daring to ignore the summons. In the rich quarters up on the five hills, citizens gathered around their smaller, private holoprojectors. Some ten-fifteen minutes after the first gongs were heard, all the citizens of Valmerr stood, or sat, before a projector.
At the other end of the system, deep down in the government's vaults of carven stone, the newscasters were getting ready for the broadcast. Around them, there were technicians and tech-savants beyond count all readying the equipment for broadcast. At the center of the bustle, a small group stood, observing the citizen monitoring system, checking that not a single citizen was where he or she should not be. The bustle of the broadcast center was organized. Not one man or woman walked where he or she should not walk. They were all firmly part of the system.
Out in the city, at the very holoprojector Elis Ní Arailt had walked by alone earlier on, the people stood shoulder to shoulder. Above some few one could see the energy-based umbrellas designed and built by some of the few tech-savants not under government employ. On the rest who were not fortunate enough to have such technology, the cold rain hammered down. Aside from breathing, not one man, woman or child moved. It was impossible to say whether that was out of fear, respect or something in between.
As always, the newscasters appeared without warning. The projectors neither hummed nor made any other noises when firing up. One moment they were inactive, the next they weren't.
“Citizens of Valmerr. As you all well know, the city has these past nine cycles been plagued with people disappearing. Our benevolent and beloved queen, bless her, has charged us all with solving this problem. It is shameful for us all that more than fifty of our young women have disappeared and the one or the ones responsible have yet to be caught.
It is for this reason you have all been called here today. Today there are sad tidings. Last night, not far from this very projector, yet another of our young women disappeared. Her name, some of you might know her, was Elis Ní Arailt. She was on her way home after a productive day in the factory.
Our masterful SAR teams have been searching ever since she did not report for work, but they have, like we all have, failed to find any trace of her. The city's elected seneschal, has therefore determined that all women between 127 and 302 cycles shall have their tracking implants active at all times, rather than merely when being summoned to watch the news.
He knows well that some of you might see this as an invasion of privacy, but knows also that you as much as he hopes this will help solve the city's problem. We all thank you for your willing and unshakable approval of this.”
The holoprojectors all shut down at that point. The Citizens all turned about and returned to their homes. Upon the exposed wrists upon some women, one might occasionally see the faint yellow glow of their still-active tracking implants. Not one man, woman or child appeared to object about the new decree.
~| Back in the lab |~
Somewhere in the lab complex, wherever that might be, the doctor too watched the news, smiling. Though it was clear that he was responsible for the women going missing, he did not seem to be perturbed by the new decree that had gone into effect. If anything, he seemed encouraged. He smiled, then whispered quietly but firmly. “Challenge accepted.”
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the complex, Elis slowly returned to consciousness. She could immediately feel that something was different. Opening her eyes, she could see every part of the room in perfect detail. Too perfect detail. If she had wanted, she could've counted the screws holding the window in place, twelve meters away.
“Impossible...” She muttered, shifting about to look at herself. Her arms obeyed her, but she could feel something was different. She looked down at them. Then she screamed. The sight that met her eyes was inhuman, revolting. Every major vein and artery was clearly visible through her skin. The thinner blood vessels were faintly visible as well. And they were all a metallic gray color. When she bent her arms, she could hear the faint clicking of tiny, tiny gears.
“No... It can't be...” she whispered, afraid of what she deep down knew to be true.
With her right hand, she squeezed around her left elbow and could feel the presence of something artificial, something that had not been there before. It was almost as if her arms were now partially robotic. She cast glances over the rest of her body. Everywhere, she could see the virtually imperceptible signs of robotics. None but her would have seen it, for she alone was intimately familiar with her body.
“It isn't true! This is a nightmare!” She screeched, only to start sobbing softly. She could see how her tendons, once white, now held a silvery metallic color, identical to that of the machines surrounding her. Even worse, through her back, she could feel the precise amounts of blood, raw materials and nutrients passing in through her ports, as well as the waste products being ejected through other ports. She could measure it with molecular precision.
What she could also feel, was how the nanites were rapidly spreading elsewhere in her body. There was no doubt in her mind that by the time the day was through, she would be more machine than woman. She folded herself into a ball, sobbing softly.
“Why are they doing this to me?” She muttered between sobs, not really expecting an answer and not getting one either.
How long she hung suspended like that, barely moving was impossible to say, but for each hour that passed, she could literally feel her awareness of her own body expanding even as the nanites slowly replaced more and more of it. Soon enough however, her mind was upgraded to such a degree that she could count every minute and every second passing. She was terrified of this, for though she had never had a habit of being late for anything, she had never really cared about time overmuch. She didn't want to know the passage of time. Nor the tens of thousands of other minutiae the machines that now were a part of her let her know.
She didn't want to know how the tens of thousands now in her liver were improving its function a hundredfold. She didn't want to be some sort of robot. It was wrong! Why hadn't they asked her? She didn't know, and was afraid to ask. Not that she expected anyone to answer even if she did ask.
Seven hours, twenty-seven minutes and twelve point two-hundred and thirty-seven seconds later, she could feel the presence of the computer system nearby. While that of course also terrified her, some small part was curious. She reached out towards it. Not physically, of course, but mentally. It appeared to have heavy firewalls in place to prevent intrusions. But by this time, her mind was more machine than woman, 62.12% of its cells replaced by nanite constructs. That made her far more advanced than the system. It was child's play to find a path through the forbidding walls surrounding the system. She wanted to learn all there was to learn from it, and nothing would stop her. Nothing.
~|~
It took quite a while for any of the technicians in the control room to notice, but eventually one of them did. At first, he didn't know what to make of it. Something was accessing records all over the system, consuming considerable amounts of processing power and memory.
“We're being hacked?” he muttered, disbelieving. They had some of the finest security systems available, yet whomever this hacker was, he or she bypassed them as if they weren't even there! He leaped up from his workstation, running towards the master's office.
“Master! Someone's hacking our systems! Bypassing firewalls as if they're not even there!” he shouted, even as he knocked repeatedly and hard on the doctor's office.
It took less than a minute before the door opened. The doctor stepped out, looking somewhat disturbed.
“WHO? Who is hacking our system? Is it the seneschal's men? Have you disconnected the external hardlines?” he all but shouted at the minion, his face hard with anger.
“Its not external and the hardline hasn't been connected at all today, master!” the minion answered, cringing back and down under the doctor's fury.
For a few moments, the doctor did not say anything, thinking it over. “The subject. It has to be her... I will deal with her personally. Draw her in. Feed her information to distract her. Lead her on a chase around the system before she realizes that she can assume control over it. NOW!”
The minion ran off, terrified both of what failure could mean and of the the fact that the master never got directly involved. He would have answered, but knew better than to speak back.
The doctor followed behind him, then past him as he started to work at the workstation, directing the other minions to do the same as he was. Coming to the triple airlock, the doctor stepped in. It took a full minute to pass through the cycles, time he would have preferred not to use, but lab sterility was too important to ignore. His pace across the vastness of the open lab was relentless. The subject's eyes were closed, so he doubted she could see him approaching. He did not care if she could. She could do nothing to stop him even if she could.
The systems controlling her containment were isolated from everything else, even running on a separate power supply. He could see the difference in her body from a long distance. The nanites had spread far and wide, consuming much of her body. It was a fascinating sight to see a human body replaced to such a degree by nanites. In some ways, it was unfortunate that he had to do this, but the alternative was unthinkable.
“I am sorry. But like the others, you are a failure.” he whispered.
He pulled out a small device from one of his pockets. It wasn't much larger than a syringe, but infinitely more dangerous. He pushed his hands through the energy field containing the subject, then pressed the device in, right above her neck port, then pressed the activation button. At first, nothing happened, then her body first started shuddering, then shaking wildly. It wasn't easy to keep the device in place, but he managed to do so. After a minute he was done. He put the device away, then rotated the subject's body. Her eyes were blank. Empty. Vacant.
He thought about shutting down the nanites, but with them having reverted back to their base programming, there was no real need. Besides, keeping them intact would give more data to work with. Perhaps allow him to find a quicker solution to this issue. The woman below him was no longer a threat, her mind completely wiped from existence. All that remained now, was a biomechanical shell. She would now never reach the hoped-for potential, but that was of no concern. Subjects like her were easy to find.
Besides, he thought, she could still be of some use. Within two days, the shell of a body below him would be fully saturated by the nanites. At that point, all he would need to do is program it. Give it a basic operating system. A menial purpose, of course. Building a full mind was impossible. There were too many details to cover to even begin doing so.
Even as he walked back out of the lab, ideas for how to use the shell that once was Elis Ní Arailt flew through his mind. Though the core project had yet to be a success, he could not help but smile. Nothing would be wasted. He would simply have to start over on a new test subject. No more, no less. He even had some subjects in mind... But before he could do that, he would have to prepare another lab. The current one could not be reused. It did not matter. He had the technology to build a hundred labs if he wanted. All he needed to do so, was time.
~| 4th hill district, City of Valmerr |~
While a full cycle had passed since the last disappearance, the people could not breathe easily, for it was clear to them all that the culprit behind the disappearances had not been caught. They all knew the Seneschal always made announcements whenever major criminals were caught. Some were no doubt afraid that their rights and freedoms would be further restricted. Others held on to the hope that the latest decree had successfully scared the criminal from further crimes, but these were in the minority. Most citizens and members of the government alike were far too disillusioned to believe in such fantasies.
Few, if any, were surprised when the summons once more sounded, this time early in the morning, when most were on their way to work. In the dim light of dawn, thousands of men and women turned towards the nearest holoprojector, then started walking. While some of the people of the 4th hill chose to return to their homes, most chose to go to the public terminals. High up on the hill, that meant Hrodlaf's square, where the projector rested upon the shoulders of nine 201st decade statues, their faces all but impossible to recognize due to the wear and tear of time.
The moment they were all there, the newscaster fired up, despite the fact that many other terminals were still gathering crowds. That was one of the many advantages of having unique speakers for each quarter and terminal.
“Citizens of Valmerr. Thank you all for delaying your journey to work in order to listen. Your willingness to listen to the words of our trusted Seneschal does him great honor. Ever since the disappearance of Elis Ní Arailt, one cycle ago on her way home from work, the SAR services have been working without pause in trying to track her down. You all know she is but the last in the long line of women who have disappeared. Though you all have the tracker implants and have had them since right after the dark times, it has proven impossible to reactivate hers. It is not registering on any system in the city nor surrounding it.” With those words, the were murmurs passing around the crowd gathered before the terminal. Their city was being made a mockery of! For decades before these times, no one had ever gone missing long. The City SAR services had been known throughout the nation for their expertise.
“Silence!” The newscaster shouted, and the crowd immediately stopped murmuring. “Two hours ago, with great sadness, I learned that another two of our young women disappeared.” He paused for a moment to the gasps of the crowd, then continued. “All investigators are perplexed by their disappearance. Where the other fifty-three all disappeared outside, these two young women disappeared right from their very homes. The first one, Eleen níc Griogair, daughter of our trusted seneschal, disappeared during her morning exercise session, her treadmill still running when her mother came by to check on her. With the doors all watched and the windows barred, no one understands how she could have gotten out.”
He paused for a few moments to let the crowd absorb the news. He could clearly see the willingness to murder in the eyes of some and was glad he was not the culprit. “The other, Katya Ní Coitir, daughter of the SAR commander herself, was in the middle of a shower, her parents both already having been up for hours, working ceaselessly upon the task of finding the missing women.”
In the background, someone muttered “serves them right. Now its personal for them too.”
The newscaster did not even have to pause to identify the man and quickly determined that he had lost his eldest daughter early on. Because of that, he did not make a note in the system against the man, despite the rules saying he should. “The government, may they serve the people for all time, has determined that this means the culprits have access to military grade teleportation technology. As such, they have realized that the previous precautions are far from sufficient. As such, while the tracking beacons will not be deactivated, all other regulations set in by the crisis are lifted. However, there is one small new decree. All women between 176 and 264 cycles must from this point forward always be in the company of a man, either a coworker or a relative. There will be no exceptions, no excuses. They know full well how inconveniencing this can be, but it is all for the best. Thank you all for obeying.”
With that, the holographic projector shut down, not allowing anyone time to ask questions or complain or demand to be exempted from the rule. Though many felt offended by this, they dared not disobey. They all quickly sorted themselves into groups, then moved onwards to their jobs.
~| Fifty-six minutes earlier |~
The doctor stepped out of the teleporter, laughing. It had been a roaring success! Not only had he snatched the Seneschal's daughter from her exercise room, but he had taken the SAR commander's daughter right from under her parents' noses! They were working obsessively with identifying and tracking him down, and were utterly oblivious to him being right next to them. He had to struggle to stop laughing.
Already the minions were maneuvering the two new test subjects to the new lab. Soon they would both be injected with his special blend of anti-viral, anti-bacterial and anti-pathogenic agents. The doctor could not have any of his subjects unclean. Once he managed to stop laughing, he returned to his private quarters, changed into a fresh, and dry, set of clothes and grabbed his latest inventions. He could not wait to test them!
He walked slowly to the labs, stopping briefly to check on the system that was running simulations for uses for the shell of the previous test subject, then entered the new lab. Like the older labs, he had its walls a dark green color and the room brightly lit. There were no dark shadows anywhere. He was no mad scientist to work in one of those silly medieval castles. Not only was it exposed, but the uncleanliness of such facilities? Terrible.
He approached the Seneschal's daughter first. “Eleen...” he murmured, letting the taste of the name flow over his tongue. From his lab-coat, he pulled a pair of sterile scissors, then carefully cut away her clothes. Sure, he could've had the machines do it, but he felt he owed the Seneschal's daughter the honor of doing it personally. Besides, with her choice of dress for exercise, it was hardly much work. He dropped the dismantled clothes into the incinerator, knowing the machines would take care of them.
At one hundred and ninety-six cycles, her body was still not fully mature, but he could see the great potential to it. If he had not been above fraternizing with lab subjects, he would no doubt have found her quite attractive. Not that he would have ever considered mating with her without her permission. There are, quite simply, some things one shall never do. At the top of that list stood rape. He had no trouble with euthanasia when it came to failed experiments, but there are some things no one should ever do to anyone.
He reached into his coat, pulling out one of the two inventions he intended to test this day. In some ways, it resembled the back half of a collar, with short projections out where the back of the neck would be. Reaching up, he pulled down the arm with the pain pacifier spray, which automatically sprayed her neck with it. Then he held the invention up to admire it for a few seconds, before snapping it into place on her neck. The device immediately began adjusting itself, digging deep into her neck.
In the silence of the lab, it was easy to hear the sound of grinding and gnashing as the device found its way in to the woman's fifth and sixth cervical vertebrae, then attached itself firmly there. On the sides, the twin sets of metallic braces slid through the device and in underneath the skin of the woman's throat, hooking into her carotid arteries and her jugulars. There was but a brief, momentary lapse in the flow of blood to and from her brain as the tubes inside the braces filled with blood. He did not hesitate when reaching up to find the thick tube up in the ceiling and hooking it into the now-fully installed neck port.
The moment he had attached it, it started filling with blood from the system. In order to increase the efficiency of his upgrade protocols, the blood was already saturated with nanites and raw materials, which would in turn quickly spread out into her body. He needed to increase the efficiency greatly if he was to complete his final plan. After that, he gently repositioned the young woman back upright in the suspension field, then stepped back. In time, he knew, the nanites would construct new access ports in her body, which in turn would automatically be connected to the additional tubes found in the ceiling. He did not know when she would wake up, but hoped she would not react quite as badly as the last one.
He eyed the faint yellow glow from her left wrist where the still-active tracker was, but saw no reason to remove it. They were far beyond the range of the tracking system. Once satisfied that nothing untoward would happen to the subject, he withdrew further, then approached the second test subject, the SAR commander's daughter, Katya Ní Coitir.
Unlike her unknowing, raven-haired companion, Katya appeared to already be approaching consciousness again. The doctor looked her over. She was, as test subjects go, perfect. Looking at the holographic data readout on the side, he saw that she was two hundred and eleven cycles, eight days and five hours old. The differences in level of maturity were subtle but clear. She was a good deal more attractive because of them, but he would never break his rule of fraternizing with test subjects. It was wrong.
Her skin had the pale tone typical to the elite and her body was free from flaws like excess fat or scars. He had no trouble seeing just why the SAR commander was known for doting on her this way. From earlier subjects, he knew that the agents he used to subdue his test subjects always left them groggy and somewhat confused, their short-term memories tended to be fuzzy. He could probably have removed those side-effects if he wanted, but that would only have made it harder to convince them to trust him.
“Morning, ma'am.” he said to her calmly. “I know you're a bit confused right now. The fuzziness will pass soon.”
“W-where am I?” she murmured, clearly just as confused as the doctor knew she'd be.
He smiled at her fondly, the way only a doctor of many years can do at a patient waking up for the first time could. “You're in a safe place, child. Your mother and father fears for your safety and had you brought here to ensure that no one could take you from them.”
“They requested that I make sure nothing will harm you again. It will be all right.”
He did not lie when saying these words to her. He simply did not speak the truth the way others would see it. He knew more than enough about her parents to know that her safety was the highest priority in their minds at all times. That was one of the primary reasons he had chosen her for this particular experiment.
“W-who are you?” She asked, still confused.
“I'm your new doctor. Just as I don't need to know your name, you don't need to know mine. The treatment I am about to give you may hurt momentarily and it will make you feel a bit odd, but it will make you safe. Do you want it now, or do you want to wait?” Initially he had no plans to delay it, but it would be nice for the sake of the experiment to have a voluntary acceptance of the upgrades. At least as voluntary as it could be without giving away any detailed information.
The woman appeared to be oblivious to her nudity when she nodded. “Do it now. No use delaying.”
“Excellent. If you would pull aside your hair? The injection must go into your neck.” he asked her, maintaining his calm demeanor as he did. The girl pulled it aside, baring her neck and back. The doctor was thankful that he had found better ways to do this than he had had with the first fifty-three girls. Pulling the invention out from his coat, he smiled a little. The design was more or less the same as the one used on the Seneschal's daughter, but sleeker, less invasive. Like with the first, he sprayed her neck with a little of the deadening agent, as pain was unnecessary to give the test subjects.
He pressed it gently against the back of her neck, then activated it. The device made several incisions into her skin, then slid underneath the exposed flaps of skin and muscle, which then fused back together using single-use pellets of the mending beams. After reaching the preprogrammed location, half the device detached. The implant would need neither scalpels nor mending beam emitters later. He pulled the now-defunct components away, sticking them in a pocket for later disposal.
“I will now attach the IV tube and monitoring cable, to ensure that the injection works right. I do hope you don't mind.” Like before, she nodded. Remarkably trusting, he thought as he attached the tube, which would rapidly saturate her system with nanites. The moment the tube was attached and flooded with blood, the prongs inside the device hooked into her carotid arteries and her jugular veins. By hooking into these, her brain would rapidly be saturated with nanites, and the blood could similarly be filled with new nanites after passing through the brain on its way down through her jugular veins.
“There. All done. Now all you need to do is relax and wait.” he smiled fondly at her, even as he took a few steps back. Out of respect, he averted his eyes from her nudity.
“Would you like to have anything while you wait? I can't offer much due to this lab being sealed to all signals, but I'll offer what I can.” The decision to play friendly with her promoted all sorts of new ideas in his mind. Like many experiments, he had no idea what it'd end up being.
“Could I have some music? Symphonic, like that of the ancient people?” she asked sweetly. The doctor was quite frankly shocked. He had never expected a request like that. He'd been prepared for food, clothes, drink, maybe a book? But music? Never.
“I can arrange that. Might take a few minutes, but I'll get it.” He walked off, trying to clear his head and puzzle out how to arrange that, thankful that the two halves of the lab were partitioned off from each other and not readily visible. After maybe ten minutes, he'd gotten the minions to assemble a simple speaker system of sufficient quality, then had it sterilized and sent into the lab.
He went through the airlocks and set it up. With his familiar obsession with precision, he positioned the various speakers in perfect alignment around her, then activated the system. He had no idea what she might like, so he'd acquired a small selection and put it into a remotely accessible holographic interface. She'd be able switch between the various composers at will.
He placed the interface projector on the floor before her, then adjusted the settings so the display would be at the right height. Looking up, he could see that her veins were already starting to change. The new nanite feed on this model was worlds more efficient than the previous ones. Katya quickly scrolled through the interface, then selected something, which started playing immediately. The doctor might not have much interest in music himself, but he could not provide anything below top quality to his patients, be it medical care, equipment, confidentiality or entertainment.
He did not recognize the music, but could not feel anything but relaxed by it. The woman simply hung there, her eyes closed and her breathing slow and steady, clearly listening to the music. Somewhat entranced by her calmness, he almost thought he could see the nanites spreading through her body. She rotated slowly in the suspension field, the joints high up on the tubes designed to ensure that twisting could not pose any problems for it. On the fifth rotation, some fifteen-twenty minutes later, he saw that the first of the many new feeder ports had been fully assembled. Unlike before, it did not stick out. It was simply a 4 mm wide hole in her skin. Right on cue, a robotic arm lowered down from the ceiling, sticking a second tube into the hole, then folding back into the roof.
This was the quickest conversion yet. If it was successful, he had no doubts it would soon be time to launch the final plan. He smiled to himself knowingly. He had spread more than enough confusion in the ranks of the government to ensure that they would never see it coming.
He pondered watching longer, but decided that it was time to lay down the final pieces for the end plan. It was undeniably a success to take the daughters of the SAR commander and the Seneschal, but they were small fish. With that, he turned about, leaving the lab, just missing the sight of the third tube being attached to Katya's back.
~|~
When the chain of symphonies she'd programmed the system to play ended some two hundred and seventy-two minutes later, Katya could feel the difference. Whatever the good doctor had done, it had removed all trace of exhaustion from her body and mind. She couldn't recall when she had been this refreshed last, if she ever had. She could feel every part of her body, sense their every potential. The strength of her muscles. The effectiveness of her liver. The durability of her bones and tendons. The throughput of her spinal ports.
A stray thought surfaced from somewhere deep down, asking about what she meant by spinal ports, asking where those came from, but she quickly squashed that trail. A quick simulation told her that there was a 61.73% chance of her reacting badly if she followed that path of thinking. That probability was uncomfortably high so she determined not to pursue it.
She looked down at her arms. All over, she could see the network of gray outlining her blood vessels, from the dense gray of her primary veins and arteries, to the haze of her outermost capillaries. But it did not freak her out. She could sense it all, and it all made sense. Her body, her mind, it all fit together, and deep inside her brain, she could see how.
Even as the changes slowly spread further and further, she did a quick analysis of how her body had changed. The nanites responded instantly. On average, a 12.03% increase in muscle firmness. 1.26% increase in breast size. 18.92% increase in body mass. All within expected parameters. Sending her senses deeper, she could feel the new constructs around her spine. Like all the other changes, they were acceptable to her. When complete they would give an 82.03% reduction in chance for trauma caused by blunt force. Similarly, the nanites now permeating her skin increased its durability by 78.41% and its rate of repair if damaged by 871.66%.
She had no doubt that all these statistics would have driven most others insane, but she personally only found them fascinating. There was a computer system at the other end of the connection with her back, but she did not find it intriguing. Not the way her body now was. Some small part of her wondered why her mother had asked the doctor to put her through this, but like so many other things, Katya found herself not caring. It was the perfect gift. She could only guess at what she would be able to do once her body was fully saturated and enhanced. She smiled to herself.
~| Six hours and five minutes later|~
At the other side of the lab, the transition was in its final stages for Eleen níc Griogair, but unlike Katya, she was not even aware she'd been chosen for the upgrades, having been kept artificially unconscious the entire time. The doctor stood watching the final few bits of the process with curiosity. On a hologram beside the body, he could see the number steadily climb towards 100%. While it did not make the test exactly the same, he had programmed the code for Katya to receive some 5% more nanites, just to be sure they would not finish at the exact same time. He could do many things, but be in two places at the same time was not one of them. Nor was focusing on two subjects at once.
The moment the indicator hit 100%, he saw the nanites begin to perform their final task. Her body was almost gray with the saturation. No one would think her to be human that way. But that was the ingenuity of it all. He activated that particular program before he released her mind from its containment. First, the tubes all slipped out, one by one. Then the data cable in her neck slipped out, even as the data port folded in on itself, sliding in under the skin. It wouldn't be invisible to a scan, but neither would it be blatantly visible for all to see. Then her very skin seemed to shimmer as the nanites took on the color of human skin. Within moments, her skin looked exactly like it had before her enhancement. Only then did he send the signal to release her mind.
~|~
One moment, Eleen was asleep, or rather, unconscious. The next, she was wide awake, as if she'd been that way for a long time. She wasn't the least bit drowsy. Countless numbers flitted through her mind. She did not comprehend them. Last thing she recalled was running on the treadmill. Now she hung in some sort of room, a suspension field keeping her up from the floor and incapable of going anywhere. And she was stark naked. She wondered what was going on. Again the numbers popped forward. Again they failed to make sense.
She couldn't see the connections between it all. Where was her father, the seneschal? Why was she here? Where was here? For a third time, numbers appeared in her head, this time in twin sets. She stared at them for a few moments, not understanding. What did those numbers have to do with anything? And for that matter, where did they come from?
It was at that point the word 'coordinates' appeared above the numbers. She tried to understand where that could be, but found herself unable. Something blocked her. Some sort of seal on the room. She did not like that. Her chain of thoughts blocked, she focused elsewhere. There had to be something worth focusing upon. She tried to make sense of how she had gotten there, but her memory was strangely blank. One moment she'd been exercising, the next she woke up here.
Again she let questions flow through her mind. What had happened? Where was she? Why was she here? How did she get here? Who was the man before her? And, more importantly, why was she naked? Her panic was rapidly building up. As a sort of self-defense, she drew back into herself. It was the only viable option.
~|~
The doctor could quickly see that something was wrong with the second subject. Her mind wasn't rejecting the upgrades, but appeared to be rejecting reality. Clearly the method used on her was... faulty. He had been afraid that might be the case after the apparent success with the other subject.
Even as he watched, he could see her eyes go blank, her body stop moving for anything except breathing.
“Oh well...” He muttered, pulling out the same device he'd used on subject #53. He walked up to her, pressing it into the side of her neck, triggering it instantly. Within seconds, her mind was completely wiped. No trace of the person once known as Eleen níc Griogair remained beyond a physical husk. With that taken care of, he wandered over to observe his other test subject complete her upgrades.
~|~
“You know... You shouldn't have lied to me.” Katya said to the doctor the moment he appeared.
“I know my mother would never intentionally ask anyone to do something like this to me.” She could see panic in his eyes and laughed.
“She's a short-sighted fool, doctor.” He appeared to be fingering something in his left pocket, but stood there uncertain. She laughed a little more.
“If she had had my level of comprehension, she would have caught you long ago. Now it is too late. I no longer see any reason for why you should be punished. You have given me a great gift, doctor... The gift of eternal life and the ultimate understanding.” When she spoke, her face barely showed any glimmer of emotion.
“You have a greater plan in progress, yes? My analysis indicates that has to be the case, as I am not in any position to affect whatever changes you wish for.” Katya could see the panic slip from his eyes, replaced by wonder. He let go of whatever he had in his pocket. She guessed it was a weapon of some kind. Something that could have destroyed her.
“Yes. I seek to change the nation. I seek, quite simply, to replace the so-called benevolent queen with a stronger, younger monarch. One infinitely more powerful. One who is fair.” he did not hesitate more than a few moments, nor did he lie. It was readily apparent to him that she somehow could read lies for what they were.
She smiled. “I surmised as much. Your honesty is refreshing. I will aid you.”
“How?” he asked, curious.
“The previous subjects. Since they were never found and you continued taking people, it is fair to assume they did not work out. There is a 96.13% probability that you used the device in your left pocket on them. I can sense a small power source, but I cannot understand what it does. What does it do?”
He looked back at her, shocked at how quickly she had seen through it all. “It wipes the biological mind. I used it on failed subjects to render them inert.”
“Good. The wiped subjects – you still have them, right?”
“Y-yes?” he answered once more, a little confused.
“Good. I will need them. Oh, and I will need some clothes. Ones like your own will serve. Have your minions bring the blank slates and sufficient clothes here. I will make them useful for our plan.”
“Our plan?” he replied, a bit shocked. He had not expected this. Some small part of him wanted to wipe her mind just to be on the safe side, but another, more sensible part realized that wouldn't work. He'd come up short with every attempt to plan the final details of the great plan. She had seen right. He did need her. And that, more than anything, frustrated him. He was supposed to be better! He was supposed to be able to do anything on his own!
But he knew there was no way around it. He went to the wall, then pressed the buttons necessary to instruct the minions in their new tasks as well as lowering the signal barrier around the room. Within minutes, all of it arrived.
“Yes. Our plan. I can see in your eyes that you need me.” She then made a simple gesture and he heard a sound that was neither metallic nor biological, but something in between as she dropped to the floor. She tested her limbs a few moments, then strode over to the clothes. They weren't much, but she found a simple shirt, pants and lab coat that fit reasonably well. There were no undergarments designed for a woman there, but she did not really need that. Her body could more than sufficiently support itself. The shirt was a 11.62% smaller than optimal, the the pants 3.05% too large, but still within acceptable parameters. Her breasts, having increased in size by 7.55% compared to their original size, strained a little against the shirt, which of course, was designed for a man. The lab coat, however, fit perfectly. Though she did not need it, she also put on a pair of shoes. With a side-thought, her hair tied itself up, a few of the longer strands wrapping around the rest to keep it in place. Not one hair was out of place.
“There. Now we can begin working.” She did not give any reaction to his shocked look. Apparently he had not seen someone's hair tie itself up before. 'humans...' she thought, then continued approaching the first of the shell-bodies.
There were only two of them. “What happened to the rest?” she asked him.
“Ruined. The nanites did not bond properly. They all became abominations. Some had to be destroyed, others were inhuman. I kept clear records in the system.”
Now that the Faraday cage was disabled, she could access the system remotely. The firewalls, if they could be called such, were no obstacles. She needed but a few seconds to find the right files, then only a few seconds more to absorb it all. “Got it. I can see where you went wrong. Though you stumbled a bit in your attempts, you had a decent rate of progression. #12, #27 & #44 showed you some keen insights into the right ways to do this. You really should have been more trusting, you know. If you'd befriended more subjects, you would have had far fewer failures. But I guess its only good for me you didn't.”
He halted mid-step. “You studied all my notes on all my subjects in ten seconds?!?” He was slowly coming to terms with just how powerful her mind had become.
“Yes.” she answered, succinctly. Then she placed her hands on the sides of the inert Elis' head. She connected her nanites to those of the shell. At first they were slow to respond, confused, but slowly they started to respond. There were fractures of the biological mind left, but they were scattered. It was easy enough to wipe them away completely. The original personality would not have been trustworthy. Instead, she copied herself into the shell. With such a large area of contact, that took but a few minutes. With each minute, she could feel her mind expand. So long as she would remain in proximity of her new selves, her minds would work in unison, the whole be greater than the sum of its parts. She wondered if the doctor had any idea of that.
~|~
The doctor's plan, which quickly found itself absorbed and virtually consumed by Katya ní Coitir, moved without pause from that point forward. Within a cycle, despite the increasingly challenging new security measures, they had seized more than four score new subjects. While half of those proved incompatible with the nanites' minds, these were erased and replaced by copies of Katya or one of her cybernetic sisters.
It is hard to say for sure exactly when he began to realize just how interconnected and powerful his creations were, but by the time he understood it, it was far too late. He was in far too deeply. After all, he still desired to change the world. Some sacrifices were necessary for that. He just did not quite know how many.
~|~
Even long before she figured out what was going on, the crown princess knew something had changed within the palace. Like everyone else, she had paid close attention to the events in Valmerr these past many cycles. She didn’t care overmuch about the women disappearing, but it made her chuckle a little just how frustrating her mother found it. She certainly didn’t worry about it.
Though members of the palace staff were frequently replaced, typically for incompetence or minor mistakes, which was fully deserved she thought, one day the frequency of blunders rapidly decreased. With lowly citizens, mistakes were expected and punished accordingly, but with the latest batch, the mistakes didn't come. In fact, they rapidly grew inhumanly efficient. Always on hand, almost as if they had begun to communicate. Servants should not take initiative. It was... Wrong.
Late one night, she decided that enough was enough. It was intolerable. A confrontation had to happen. She would do it the next day. No later. Sleep would come first, of course.
~|~
They knew almost instantly when the princess first took notice of them. It was Inevitable, so rather than hide it, they made it blatantly obvious to her and made their preparations at a sufficiently increased pace. From the first moment one of them had found her way into the service of her royal highness, the brain scan had been running. Thus they had easily calculated when she would confront them. It was no struggle at all to finish prior to that.
It was late at night when they started the processing. They had for the past two weeks been altering her bed, installing the necessary technology into its framework. Some might have thought that hard to conceal, but with nanites, it was rather simple.
They initiated the machines, then woke the princess up. "it is time, your highness."
She had stared strangely at them, clearly muddled by sleep, nodding confused while trying to shake off sleep. They of course did not allow her to do that before starting. The freshly installed gravity nullification field raised her up even as machines pulled the bedding aside. Where a bed had been before, an improvised lab station now stood, the princess suspended within. She was still not fully awake when the integration and upgrading began.
Each of the twelve present linked up with her seconds after the obligatory neck port was installed. This not only increased her rate of integration, but also allowed them to share knowledge directly. The princess was defenseless against it. Within hours, er entire body had been enhanced. With the shared knowledge, she had no way to resist their infallible logic. Mercilessly she had no choice about whether to become one of them.
The question that outsiders might ask, had they not been oblivious to it all, is whether she would command or be commanded. Her seizure of the throne was inevitable. The second question to ask is what sort of queen she would be.
Would she be naughty or nice? Would the kingdom rise to new heights? Or would it be ground to dust under her nanite-infused heel? And finally, who was this doctor and what was his role in the end?
by @PlatinumSkink
"... Leave this to the warriors. Even if you went out onto the battlefield, there is no way you would achieve anything other than your own death." The captain of the guard has said, looking condescendingly down on the young boy. "What little power you have will do you no good."
This was in Nagaira. Nagaira found itself squeezed between the formidable superpowers, the nations of Maghor and Alvadia. Unfortunately, in their quest to show supremacy against Maghor, the armies of Alvadia had chosen fit to squash Nagaira on the way. In Nagaira only those trained to be military may fight in times of war, meaning those too young or those of other professions were not allowed to help. This was the case for young Effraye. Effraye was a young teenage boy who was a peasant and farmer to be. And he was completely powerless to help anyone.
They were being evacuated from the country-side, a long line of people being led out of the way of the Alvadian approach, leaving behind what few soldiers they had to hold off the enemy advance and simply give them the battle to satisfy them without endangering civilians. ... Effraye was currently sitting in the back of a rolling cart, together with the considerable amount of consumable resources this cart was actually reserved for, hugging himself around his legs and thinking about those men who had stayed behind to surely die, and about how powerless he was to save them...
"Effraye?" A soft voice asked. He flinched a little, scrambling to a more respectable sitting-position to look at the one who had spoke. A red-haired, intelligent girl who had searched him up and was looking at him in worry.
"Marta..." He said her name with a little sigh. "Don't scare me like that."
"That's what I should be saying, you've been gone for hours!" She pouted and rebutted as she climbed further back into the cart, looking over the space inside. "... Huh, but this is pretty nice. Maybe I'll stay, too."
"... Please don't." Effraye wouldn't normally reject Marta's presence, but right now he was feeling really, really useless, no use being rewarded for it. She gave him an annoyed glare for his words.
"Oh, why not!? Why are you hiding back here!? I know we're going through some tough times, but that's when we need to make as much a difference as we can! You can't just hide in here and wait for it to become better!" She dropped the pretense mid-rant and scolded him. He looked away from her in annoyance.
"... Nothing I'd do would make a difference. I don't have that kind of power." He sulked. He knew it wasn't the most dignified behavior, but...
"... You wanted to fight with them, did you?" Marta replied in a sad tone. Effraye sat in silence as he could do nothing but nod in acknowledgement.
"You know that we're doing this so as many of us survive as possible. If we had the means for all of us to survive with surety, we would use them. ... But we don't have that kind of power." She continued saying things that which Effraye already knew.
"If I said I was going to go fight them, what would you do?" She asked.
"I'd stop you." Effraye said automatically.
"... And that's the same as the soldiers feel about you." Marta smiled a little as she felt she had explained something that Effraye really had already understood. "You are to survive and protect our surviving people, and possibly, if you train for it, protect those of us who remain in a similar way when the time comes." ... Sigh. Effraye knew what she was saying. ... Suppose it was about time to pull his act together and-
"... But let's totally ignore that and go help them, anyway, right?" Marta said in a carefree tone. ... What? Effraye looked up at her in confusion and saw that little smile.
"That's what you really want to, right? You can't do a difference on your own, so... Let's see if we can find some like-minded individuals and go back, okay?" She smiled at him like it was the easiest thing in the world.
"Th-there's no way anyone would want to endanger their life to-" Effraye said, feeling a bit of fear of actual action going through him. Th-they'd all say 'no' and he'd be branded a desperate-
"So what? You claim you're powerless, but you do have the power to TRY, don't you?" She smirked down at him as Effraye realized what an idiot he had been. He shoved himself off the floor, up on his unsteady legs, looking forward in the cart in order to move forward and try the impossible, afraid of how he'd be met but continuing anyway.
"Yeah! Go get them!" Marta cheered him on, smiling happily behind him as he walked out...
________________________
They were being underestimated. The Alvadian forces had only sent a detachment of their main army to deal with the Nagairan forces. ... They were still outnumbered five to one, King Voler of Nagaira acknowledged as he looked over the fields where the battle would take place and at his own few well-trained solders. It was a bad time to be there, but yet they were all determined to do what they could, and their king was right there with them. With swords drawn, archers ready, it was but a matter of time. And over there were the battalions of their enemy. They already knew where their only opposition were, and so they knew they had nothing to fear...
... That's when a rider galloped to his side, and Voler gave him permission to talk in all haste, before the battle began.
"You're getting reinforcements!" The messenger said, considerably excited and exhausted, as he handed over a letter. Voler frowned at these words.
"Whom? Maghor?" He guessed, seeing as this was the only likely force nearby while he opened the letter. A map...?
"... N-no! It's, uh, your civilians!" The messenger uttered some unbelievable words. "They'll be attacking the enemy's right flank as they're so focused on you! Please take advantage of this!" King Voler's eyes widened in shocked realization as he looked over the hastily drawn map of something that was supposed to resemble troop movements. They were... th-that many!? Idiots! This plan was way more likely to get them all killed than make any form of difference! But... for the sake of their people...!
"... Attack formation one! Tell the other commanders!" He quickly informed his mounted messengers while glaring forward, feeling a bit of panic at the sudden change of situation. Even if it was by mere citizens, their numbers had practically doubled. Nothing else to do, than...
"FORWARD, MEN! ON ORDERS OF YOUR KING!"
________________________
... It had been so magical. Of course, the first few Effraye asked had rebutted him and told him he was mad. But then, he had met one like-minded, and they split up to search. Each time they found one, another person joined that searched for more. As their movement grew in force, more and more joined them seemingly coming from nowhere, what little arms was left were given to them freely and horses were spared for them to ride back, those of them that could ride. Finally, command was taken by Confiant, one of the leading knights of Nagaira who had followed the convoy to protect them in case of unexpected attack, reducing Effraye to the status of just another man. ... But it was his movement.
And now, they were charging down the enemy's side, varied weapons in hands. Effraye was afraid, but he ran for all he could, holding a spear. The enemy was positively terrified of this random mob from nowhere. They shot arrows at them. There was nothing Effraye could do but hope they wouldn't hit- ah. ... ... ... Effraye was unable to join the rest of the charge, as he had fallen down on the ground with an arrow in his side.
________________________
"Who's responsible for this!?" King Voler shouted angrily in Confiant's face as he came face-to-face with the confused but proud knight. The battle was over, their enemy had fled and they were miraculously safe, the Nagairan numbers were suddenly more than the detachment felt confident about taking on.
"Your majesty, I, Sir Confiant of Nagaira, am in command of-" The knight started, but was interrupted.
"I didn't ask who was in command! Who was responsible for this endeavor!? Was it you!? This went directly against my orders to-"
"S-sir!" A cracking, female voice was heard behind the king. Voler frowned at being interrupted, but turned and saw... a young, red-haired female girl, smiling and crying at the same time, kneeling over a boy lying down with an arrow in his side, looking up at her king. The scene was... stinging to his heart.
"Th-this man! H-his name is Effraye! He was the one who started to gather them all and ignited the desire to save the lives of you and your men, your majesty!" She proudly stated even while crying, clearly believing in the noble intention which had put so many in life-threatening danger.
"..." Was she telling the truth? Those around seemed to stay quiet, nobody arguing with the words of the peasant girl as Voler looked around at them. Confiant nodded with a proud little smile of his own. ... This made the king's intention of scolding whoever made this decision quite pointless. ...
"Sir Confiant." The King commanded with all the power which came from his position. "Make sure this young man gets the best medical attention we can spare. Of course, we must care for our other wounded as well, but make this man survive if you can."
"Yes, your majesty." Confiant bowed with a smile and immediately dashed around to start barking commands. Voler looked down at the girl, who seemed to be relieved of the positive reaction to her words.
"... I'd like to talk to this boy. As such, keep him alive, if you can." King Voler said as he turned his back, and started walking back to where he was needed.
"Y-yes, your majesty. Th-thank you..." The young girl softly spoke after him. "H-hear that, Effraye? The King wants you to live. The greatest power of the kingdom wants you to survive. S-so, stay alive, will you? Stay alive..."
________________________
... Much later, Effraye blinked awake, his body flinching a bit at he realized his state. He panicked for a moment, then groaned in pain as he was pushed back in the bed, staring upwards... Marta was smiling down at him, the red-haired girl looking so proud.
"Wh-what happened...?" Effraye managed to squeeze out.
"You won. Apparently, your sheer numbers surprised the enemy and they fled fearing major casualties, said the tacticians." Marta replied with a soft voice. "They were expecting an easy battle, but you added just the element of chaos we needed. Everyone's really impressed, and even the king wants to talk to you now!" ... Effraye blinked in surprise, somewhat overwhelmed with the new information. But... he also felt this surge of relief. They were safe, huh... And as he lay there sighing, a surge of pain made him realize the wound.
"Though, all I did was take an arrow..." He chuckled and said, feeling the drowsy pain of the injury.
"An arrow that, had you not been there, might have killed someone who now lived." Marta happily turned this negative feature upside-down to shine. "See? No matter how little power you have, you can still amount to something!"
"You're only helping me feeling even more powerless." Effraye laughed back at her.
"But it's true!" Marta enforced with a smile. "All of you combining your powers became one big power that solved the big problem! You used your little power to spur more and more power, eventually ending in a power that could save us all! Feel a bit proud!"
"..." Alright, that did happen. And that felt kind of amazing. But...
"... But that only worked because everyone wanted the same. I, myself, wouldn't have even left that cart had you not been there. Also, there will always be problems that nobody will want to help solve. What would I have done if nobody would have wanted to help?" He gave Marta an expectant look, examining how stubborn her positive attitude was going to be.
"Well..." Marta smiled, looking at him while obviously working on an answer, Effraye feeling kind of guilty-proud to have put her in her place. "... That wasn't the case this time, right?" And she found a compromise and grinned at him.
"Oh, you little-!" Effraye grinned as well and made a grab for her, but she escaped. "Don't encourage me with faulty promises!"
"Hey, it worked, didn't it!?" She grinned right back, and then they could laugh together for some time, having made some kind of difference to the world with the tiny amount of power that they happened to have.
They were safe. That would probably change when the Alvadian command learned what total fools their tiny nation had made of their detachment, but... For now, they could laugh happily. For now.
"... Leave this to the warriors. Even if you went out onto the battlefield, there is no way you would achieve anything other than your own death." The captain of the guard has said, looking condescendingly down on the young boy. "What little power you have will do you no good."
This was in Nagaira. Nagaira found itself squeezed between the formidable superpowers, the nations of Maghor and Alvadia. Unfortunately, in their quest to show supremacy against Maghor, the armies of Alvadia had chosen fit to squash Nagaira on the way. In Nagaira only those trained to be military may fight in times of war, meaning those too young or those of other professions were not allowed to help. This was the case for young Effraye. Effraye was a young teenage boy who was a peasant and farmer to be. And he was completely powerless to help anyone.
They were being evacuated from the country-side, a long line of people being led out of the way of the Alvadian approach, leaving behind what few soldiers they had to hold off the enemy advance and simply give them the battle to satisfy them without endangering civilians. ... Effraye was currently sitting in the back of a rolling cart, together with the considerable amount of consumable resources this cart was actually reserved for, hugging himself around his legs and thinking about those men who had stayed behind to surely die, and about how powerless he was to save them...
"Effraye?" A soft voice asked. He flinched a little, scrambling to a more respectable sitting-position to look at the one who had spoke. A red-haired, intelligent girl who had searched him up and was looking at him in worry.
"Marta..." He said her name with a little sigh. "Don't scare me like that."
"That's what I should be saying, you've been gone for hours!" She pouted and rebutted as she climbed further back into the cart, looking over the space inside. "... Huh, but this is pretty nice. Maybe I'll stay, too."
"... Please don't." Effraye wouldn't normally reject Marta's presence, but right now he was feeling really, really useless, no use being rewarded for it. She gave him an annoyed glare for his words.
"Oh, why not!? Why are you hiding back here!? I know we're going through some tough times, but that's when we need to make as much a difference as we can! You can't just hide in here and wait for it to become better!" She dropped the pretense mid-rant and scolded him. He looked away from her in annoyance.
"... Nothing I'd do would make a difference. I don't have that kind of power." He sulked. He knew it wasn't the most dignified behavior, but...
"... You wanted to fight with them, did you?" Marta replied in a sad tone. Effraye sat in silence as he could do nothing but nod in acknowledgement.
"You know that we're doing this so as many of us survive as possible. If we had the means for all of us to survive with surety, we would use them. ... But we don't have that kind of power." She continued saying things that which Effraye already knew.
"If I said I was going to go fight them, what would you do?" She asked.
"I'd stop you." Effraye said automatically.
"... And that's the same as the soldiers feel about you." Marta smiled a little as she felt she had explained something that Effraye really had already understood. "You are to survive and protect our surviving people, and possibly, if you train for it, protect those of us who remain in a similar way when the time comes." ... Sigh. Effraye knew what she was saying. ... Suppose it was about time to pull his act together and-
"... But let's totally ignore that and go help them, anyway, right?" Marta said in a carefree tone. ... What? Effraye looked up at her in confusion and saw that little smile.
"That's what you really want to, right? You can't do a difference on your own, so... Let's see if we can find some like-minded individuals and go back, okay?" She smiled at him like it was the easiest thing in the world.
"Th-there's no way anyone would want to endanger their life to-" Effraye said, feeling a bit of fear of actual action going through him. Th-they'd all say 'no' and he'd be branded a desperate-
"So what? You claim you're powerless, but you do have the power to TRY, don't you?" She smirked down at him as Effraye realized what an idiot he had been. He shoved himself off the floor, up on his unsteady legs, looking forward in the cart in order to move forward and try the impossible, afraid of how he'd be met but continuing anyway.
"Yeah! Go get them!" Marta cheered him on, smiling happily behind him as he walked out...
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They were being underestimated. The Alvadian forces had only sent a detachment of their main army to deal with the Nagairan forces. ... They were still outnumbered five to one, King Voler of Nagaira acknowledged as he looked over the fields where the battle would take place and at his own few well-trained solders. It was a bad time to be there, but yet they were all determined to do what they could, and their king was right there with them. With swords drawn, archers ready, it was but a matter of time. And over there were the battalions of their enemy. They already knew where their only opposition were, and so they knew they had nothing to fear...
... That's when a rider galloped to his side, and Voler gave him permission to talk in all haste, before the battle began.
"You're getting reinforcements!" The messenger said, considerably excited and exhausted, as he handed over a letter. Voler frowned at these words.
"Whom? Maghor?" He guessed, seeing as this was the only likely force nearby while he opened the letter. A map...?
"... N-no! It's, uh, your civilians!" The messenger uttered some unbelievable words. "They'll be attacking the enemy's right flank as they're so focused on you! Please take advantage of this!" King Voler's eyes widened in shocked realization as he looked over the hastily drawn map of something that was supposed to resemble troop movements. They were... th-that many!? Idiots! This plan was way more likely to get them all killed than make any form of difference! But... for the sake of their people...!
"... Attack formation one! Tell the other commanders!" He quickly informed his mounted messengers while glaring forward, feeling a bit of panic at the sudden change of situation. Even if it was by mere citizens, their numbers had practically doubled. Nothing else to do, than...
"FORWARD, MEN! ON ORDERS OF YOUR KING!"
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... It had been so magical. Of course, the first few Effraye asked had rebutted him and told him he was mad. But then, he had met one like-minded, and they split up to search. Each time they found one, another person joined that searched for more. As their movement grew in force, more and more joined them seemingly coming from nowhere, what little arms was left were given to them freely and horses were spared for them to ride back, those of them that could ride. Finally, command was taken by Confiant, one of the leading knights of Nagaira who had followed the convoy to protect them in case of unexpected attack, reducing Effraye to the status of just another man. ... But it was his movement.
And now, they were charging down the enemy's side, varied weapons in hands. Effraye was afraid, but he ran for all he could, holding a spear. The enemy was positively terrified of this random mob from nowhere. They shot arrows at them. There was nothing Effraye could do but hope they wouldn't hit- ah. ... ... ... Effraye was unable to join the rest of the charge, as he had fallen down on the ground with an arrow in his side.
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"Who's responsible for this!?" King Voler shouted angrily in Confiant's face as he came face-to-face with the confused but proud knight. The battle was over, their enemy had fled and they were miraculously safe, the Nagairan numbers were suddenly more than the detachment felt confident about taking on.
"Your majesty, I, Sir Confiant of Nagaira, am in command of-" The knight started, but was interrupted.
"I didn't ask who was in command! Who was responsible for this endeavor!? Was it you!? This went directly against my orders to-"
"S-sir!" A cracking, female voice was heard behind the king. Voler frowned at being interrupted, but turned and saw... a young, red-haired female girl, smiling and crying at the same time, kneeling over a boy lying down with an arrow in his side, looking up at her king. The scene was... stinging to his heart.
"Th-this man! H-his name is Effraye! He was the one who started to gather them all and ignited the desire to save the lives of you and your men, your majesty!" She proudly stated even while crying, clearly believing in the noble intention which had put so many in life-threatening danger.
"..." Was she telling the truth? Those around seemed to stay quiet, nobody arguing with the words of the peasant girl as Voler looked around at them. Confiant nodded with a proud little smile of his own. ... This made the king's intention of scolding whoever made this decision quite pointless. ...
"Sir Confiant." The King commanded with all the power which came from his position. "Make sure this young man gets the best medical attention we can spare. Of course, we must care for our other wounded as well, but make this man survive if you can."
"Yes, your majesty." Confiant bowed with a smile and immediately dashed around to start barking commands. Voler looked down at the girl, who seemed to be relieved of the positive reaction to her words.
"... I'd like to talk to this boy. As such, keep him alive, if you can." King Voler said as he turned his back, and started walking back to where he was needed.
"Y-yes, your majesty. Th-thank you..." The young girl softly spoke after him. "H-hear that, Effraye? The King wants you to live. The greatest power of the kingdom wants you to survive. S-so, stay alive, will you? Stay alive..."
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... Much later, Effraye blinked awake, his body flinching a bit at he realized his state. He panicked for a moment, then groaned in pain as he was pushed back in the bed, staring upwards... Marta was smiling down at him, the red-haired girl looking so proud.
"Wh-what happened...?" Effraye managed to squeeze out.
"You won. Apparently, your sheer numbers surprised the enemy and they fled fearing major casualties, said the tacticians." Marta replied with a soft voice. "They were expecting an easy battle, but you added just the element of chaos we needed. Everyone's really impressed, and even the king wants to talk to you now!" ... Effraye blinked in surprise, somewhat overwhelmed with the new information. But... he also felt this surge of relief. They were safe, huh... And as he lay there sighing, a surge of pain made him realize the wound.
"Though, all I did was take an arrow..." He chuckled and said, feeling the drowsy pain of the injury.
"An arrow that, had you not been there, might have killed someone who now lived." Marta happily turned this negative feature upside-down to shine. "See? No matter how little power you have, you can still amount to something!"
"You're only helping me feeling even more powerless." Effraye laughed back at her.
"But it's true!" Marta enforced with a smile. "All of you combining your powers became one big power that solved the big problem! You used your little power to spur more and more power, eventually ending in a power that could save us all! Feel a bit proud!"
"..." Alright, that did happen. And that felt kind of amazing. But...
"... But that only worked because everyone wanted the same. I, myself, wouldn't have even left that cart had you not been there. Also, there will always be problems that nobody will want to help solve. What would I have done if nobody would have wanted to help?" He gave Marta an expectant look, examining how stubborn her positive attitude was going to be.
"Well..." Marta smiled, looking at him while obviously working on an answer, Effraye feeling kind of guilty-proud to have put her in her place. "... That wasn't the case this time, right?" And she found a compromise and grinned at him.
"Oh, you little-!" Effraye grinned as well and made a grab for her, but she escaped. "Don't encourage me with faulty promises!"
"Hey, it worked, didn't it!?" She grinned right back, and then they could laugh together for some time, having made some kind of difference to the world with the tiny amount of power that they happened to have.
They were safe. That would probably change when the Alvadian command learned what total fools their tiny nation had made of their detachment, but... For now, they could laugh happily. For now.
THAT’S NOT ALL OF THE ENTRIES! DON’T MISS THE REST OF THESE ENTRIES TO BE FOUND IN THE POST IMMEDIATELY FOLLOWING THIS ONE!
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