by J G Smith
Before I’m able to react, Natalia cuts in. “Did you not hear me?” she questions. I don’t even recognise her anymore. “I am acting battalion General of this sector—” The emphasis on acting was snidely added just for me, but she isn’t able to finish her sentence. Dr Heldrain interrupts her just as he had interrupted me.
“I’m sorry, young lady,” he says, “but militants and matriarchists only have a say outside the walls of a laboratory. You’ll be happy to know that the ninety-sixth floor is stocked with weapons of every kind. Perhaps you’ll be more at home there.” He brushes her persistence aside, asking the woman who appears to be his assistant to take them there.
Ahteirus stares at me with readings that indicate understanding of what is happening, but not why – as is the case with the rest of us. At the same time, she exudes a sense of panic and uncertainty. I don’t know if I can do anything to have Private Martin and my sister stay, but I feel strongly that Ahteirus needs to be here – with me.
“That girl there,” I say, speaking to Dr Heldrain. “Her name is Ahteirus. Her friend is an Artificial. Not type one or type two, but one hundred percent Organic in appearance.”
For some reason, my sister smiles. Dr Heldrain pauses, which seems strangely out of character, and asks her, “What is your friend’s name?”
“She doesn’t understand Irrilium,” I tell him. “She speaks a language called English.”
Dr Heldrain frowns. His readings indicate a discomfort triggered by his ignorance of the situation at hand.
“You ask her then,” he orders, more than a little frustrated.
“His name is Robert,” I tell him. “Robert Peters.”
There’s a glint in his eyes and a grin of satisfaction. “Take these two away,” he orders the woman appearing to be his assistant, pointing to Private Martin and my sister. “Reuben and this girl, Ahteirus, will come with me.”
Private Martin attempts to retaliate, but the assistant presses some sort of remote button that restrains him with a tangible holographic web. My first thought is that it is old technology, but Ahteirus reacts the way she did scanning into the city – the city we left behind.
Dr Heldrain calls two other coated grunts to take Ahteirus and me further into the lab. I watch as he closes the door that gave us entrance. Private Martin’s readings indicate a feeling of regret while Natalia’s readings appear strangely… different. There’s a spike in her luminous count and I can almost swear her eyes turned red. No, it can’t be. I don’t know.
I don’t know what’s up with her. She has been acting curiously. I understand that she may be reacting to what everyone believes to be my mother’s death, but this… I hope she’ll be okay. Who am I kidding? She will be. This is my sister I’m talking about.
“Don’t look so frightened, Reuben,” Dr Heldrain says in an attempt to ease my concerns. “You’re a hero here, not a prisoner.”
I don’t know what he’s talking about. And, of all people, he’s the one heading the Albatross Neuron Facility? His entire demeanour sends shivers down my spine. “You said something about my father being a professor?” I probe, trying to make something of the situation.
“Didn’t he tell you that?” Dr Heldrain glowers. “He and Dr Albatross did have a habit of dragging things out. Especially when it came to their research.”
I don’t believe what I’m hearing. My eyes are furrowed and my mouth is agape. Ahteirus is looking at me with a blank expression and Dr Heldrain a smug one, confirming, “Yes.”
“And where’s Dr Albatross?” I ask.
His countenance drops with readings of envy and disgust. “Dr Albatross does not have what it takes to end this war,” Dr Heldrain hisses. “He may have initiated the research, but his applications and methods have been tediously lagging.” He paces back and forth with his eyes to the floor, then throws his hands in the air as he continues. “Look around. Experiment after experiment. Failure after failure. Except for you… and the others.”
“I’m sorry?” I question, confused by that last part. He doesn’t answer. I’m not sure if he’s ignoring me or if he just didn’t hear.
He sighs and adds, “To answer your question, Dr Albatross went and got himself captured by those type one Artificials.”
They seem to be gaining a lot of ground – Artificials in general. I translate for Ahteirus as he takes us through a tour of the laboratory. I notice thirteen men and women walking around with coats and tablets and more than twenty glass chambers under observation with metallic plaques detailing the objectives of their specified research.
I look from the observation panel of one and see three children training—fighting. The plaque reads with the title Advanced Martial Arts and the tally 1152 of 4650.
“Are these experiments or training grounds?” I ask.
Dr Heldrain shrugs. “Is there even a difference anymore?” he asks. Though, it doesn’t sound like a question. “The Artificials outnumber us on the battlefield tenfold. If we’re going to win, we need to outclass them with intellect.” He shrugs again and keeps walking. “But those subjects have been there for around eight years already. Another one of Dr Albatross’ dragged out experiments.”
My jaw drops. I turn to Ahteirus and decide that maybe she doesn’t need to know.
The next plaque reads Automated Atomic Phasing. Dr Heldrain seems to gloat about how this is one of his speedier projects, but his expression quickly changes as he looks through the glass from the observation panel. He calls one of the scientists over and instructs them to “deal with this mess.” It takes me a moment before I notice a leg, a shoulder and the back of a head sticking out of a solid and intact wall. Ahteirus puts her hand to her face, trying to mask her dismay.
When Dr Heldrain notices a similar reaction from me, he spits out a horrid vindication, stating, “Sometimes experiments fail.” There’s an uneasy pause before he adds, “A lot of them have been failing lately.” He keeps walking.
I notice another chamber with a plaque reading Light Speed. I don’t even want to see what’s on the other side.
“You’re experimenting on humans?” I ask, bewildered. I can’t believe I’m even asking this question.
“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” he states, not even looking back.
Ahteirus seems frozen in her place, demanding that I explain to her what’s going on. I do and then, as I move on to follow Dr Heldrain, she stops me, giving me a dirty look. “This man is crazy, Reuben,” she whispers, disconcertedly. “You’re not seriously going any further with him, are you?”
Dr Heldrain says a few things and turns around to ask if everything is okay when I don’t reply. He’s strangely unaffected by how we may be reacting. He may be worse than me when it comes to social interactions. “I want to show you something,” he says. “Dr Albatross and Professor Charles may not approve, but they’re not here and you, along with the other perfect Artificials, have been our greatest successes thus far.”
My heart pounds loudly in my ears. My respiration slows down drastically and my attention fixes wholeheartedly on the words, “…you, along with the other perfect Artificials…” That’s not possible.
Both Dr Heldrain and Ahteirus call my name, noticing my shock, and ask if I’m okay.
“I am the son of Charles and Sandra Price,” I state, firmly. “I am not an Artificial.”
Dr Heldrain condescendingly calls my name over and over. “Reuben, Reuben, Reuben… I’m sorry they didn’t tell you,” he says, not actually concerned and not budging on his belief that I, Reuben Price, am an Artificial. “It was one of Dr Albatross’ dragged out testing phases. Come, I’ll show you one of the others.”
“Reuben,” Ahteirus calls, softly.
“I don’t believe him,” I tell her, sternly.
“The experiments?” she questions, notably confused.
“He says I’m an Artificial,” I say, barely audible, relating to her everything he said.
The readings monitoring her emoti
onal state changes from restraint to intrigue. “This could help explain my dream,” she mutters. “The one about Robert.”
“Reuben,” Dr Heldrain calls, waiting on us to walk his direction. “I don’t want to have to make you come here.”
Ahteirus and I argue momentarily before coming to a decision. “We don’t really have any other choice,” I say. “But I still don’t believe him.”
As we make our way over, I read the plaque. Artificial Life.
“They call him Reichen,” Dr Heldrain begins. “I never imagined this day would come, but with the two of you together we’re that much closer to stopping the Artificials. Now, I just need to find the third—”
“Dr Heldrain,” a familiar voice calls. It’s the woman who took Private Martin and my sister downstairs. Her energy signatures do appear somewhat abnormal, especially her luminous count. “I remember overhearing a conversation you and Dr Albatross had a number of years ago, about a portal the two of you managed to secure. Where is it?”
Dr Heldrain is almost stunned by her sudden entrance and apparent change of character. “I’m afraid you don’t have clearance for that, Desiree,” he replies. “You know that. What’s gotten into you? Get your priorities in line, we have two of three perfect Artificials with us. That’s our focus.”
“I thought you’d say that,” she says in answer, moving closer to him with her right arm raised, quickly and firmly gripping his throat.
The surrounding scientists respond almost immediately by shooting at her with their own tangible holographic webs.
“What are you doing, you incompetent—” His words are cut short by a bright red light gleaming from her hand and through his mouth and eyes. Her eyes are glowing bright red, too, and intensifying in luminosity by the second. The webs around her don’t seem to be making much of a difference, diffusing by the emergence of the same red light – now burning from her veins.
This is a completely new experience. The readings for the light appear to be Organic in origin, not Artificial.
A series of soft whistles fill the air as the scientists shoot tiny metal shards from orbs taken out of their coats. All directed at Dr Heldrain’s assistant.
At the same time, Ahteirus’ voice wobbles, “Lighkame?” while the bright red light intensifies and bursts outwards from the assistant, filling the room. I notice a silverish-white light from Ahteirus before I have to close my eyes. A warmth quickly follows.
“Isn’t this a fascinating world,” Dr Heldrain says, standing where his assistant was with a pile of ash just before him. His assistant is nowhere to be found and only three of the scientists are still around. Ashen piles remain where the other scientists stood.
Next to Ahteirus is Lithen, the young white dragon, standing on all fours with its wings spread out. She runs over and wraps her arms around its neck. “Liffen!” she cries, with readings of both shock and relief. “Thank you.” Though, just as soon as her arms touch the dragon, it dissipates into the silverish-white light and re-enters her body.
“Dr Heldrain, has the threat been neutralised?” the scientists ask.
He grins, from ear to ear, saying, “Why, yes, it has.”
Two of them offer to scan the perimeter while one offers to stay behind.
“That won’t be necessary,” Dr Heldrain says, sending the three of them off together. “I’ll look after these three.”
“I see you made it to this world as well,” Dr Heldrain says to Ahteirus, in her vernacular. How? “Is Robert here with you?” How does he know Robert?
She glares back at him and asks, “Why would I tell you that?”
He smirks and responds, “I’ll take that as a no. I would’ve felt him anyway if he was. Did you leave him in Spectum?”
She doesn’t answer.
“Ahteirus—Dr Heldrain—what’s going on?” I ask in my muddled state.
“That isn’t Dr Heldrain,” she breathes, not taking her eyes off of him. “His name is Lighkame. He’s a shapeshifter from another world.”
“There’s no need to be nasty,” he says. “I’m just trying to find my way back home… and it appears, after my last trip, that Robert is still my best and only bet. And, you could be leverage.”
There’s an evil look in his eyes and a fearful one over Ahteirus. He steps closer, glows red, flashes forward and grabs Ahteirus. She lets out a scream. I move over to grab him, but there’s another flash and both of them are gone.
“Ahteirus!” I call, to no avail. I’m the only one left in the laboratory.
Beside me is the chamber Dr Heldrain claimed to contain a perfect Artificial. I’m—“Ahteirus!” I call again.
I run to the other side of the laboratory, back to the door that separated Ahteirus and me from Private Martin and Natalia. It’s closed. “Come on, Reuben,” I tell myself. “Do something useful with your formulapathy. Figure out the code.”
My brain is working; my fingers are typing. It works. I see the most typed sequence and put it in. The door opens. I head over to the elevator and press the button, waiting for it to come up. I need a General. I need my sister.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THE HERALD WILL SAVE US
The news came as more than a shock to Reuben. He didn’t want to believe it; that he, himself, was an Artificial. He felt as if everything he had been told was a lie, and rightfully so. But, after the incident with the red light-wielder… after she had been taken, there wasn’t any time to linger.
As the elevator reached the ninety-sixth floor, he rushed out – into another reception and towards another keyless door. He used his formulapathy to decipher the access code and entered the next room, calling his sister’s name.
It was a steel grey armoury filled with numerous cameras and aisles of weapons. A little ways in, he noted that a few of the racks had been toppled over. Weapons were lying about and two piles of ash stood clear.
“Natalia!” he cried, again. His thoughts flashed to the scene of the fallen scientists upstairs. “No,” he muttered, falling gently against one of the weapon racks. “It can’t be.” Tears streamed from his eyes before he stood back up with a determined look.
There were only two piles of ash, not three. Unless Dr Heldrain’s assistant was the shapeshifter from the start, he thought—no, he doubted. He began looking around, intently, calling for both Natalia and Private Martin. One of them had to be alive, he thought.
An idea then came, as an epiphany, to track Private Martin’s vitals on his tablet. At least then he’d know if the ash was Private Martin’s or his sister’s. That was his logic. He opened the tracking app, with his mother’s name still appearing first. Offline. He took a moment, then scrolled down to Private Martin. Offline.
A barrage of conflicting emotions struck him. He was shaken, yet somewhat relieved. His sister was alive, he hoped. He locked the screen and continued to search.
As he moved further and further into the armoury, a siren went off with the lights turning red. He remembered the three scientists the light-wielder sent off and wondered if the siren was for the incident upstairs or a new threat.
He continued scanning the room with weapons everywhere. His sister’s words came to mind as he searched, questioning his aversion to carrying them. He paused… placed his hand on a small pulse gun… and guiltily hid it in one of his pockets. He would at least need something if he came across the light-wielder again, or if Artificials managed to infiltrate the facility.
He ran back to the elevator after wrestling with his conscience, noting that it had already been called to another floor. The button and edges, too, were emitting a crimson red light. Though, his only real thought was higher ground. He needed a command centre—a blueprint—live footage—anything to see or use to figure out what was going on.
He pressed the button to call the elevator, causing it to turn blue in colour, and moved to one of the computers behind the reception desk – just to see if he could find anything else.
It turned on quickly, but requir
ed a password that he couldn’t figure out. The input was a deep blue holographic keypad. It did not have any physical impressions like the mechanical keypads and there weren’t any clues for him to go on.
He heard the soft ping of the elevator and turned off the computer. It had a goodbye message which read: ‘The herald will save us… if we listen.’ He’d seen that phrase before, but couldn’t quite recall where. It made him think of her, for some reason; that he needed to find her. But he needed to find his sister first.
As the elevator opened, two of the scientists from upstairs stepped out, visibly panicked. “Where’s Dr Heldrain?” they asked. “You shouldn’t be on your own.”
Reuben’s face went pale. “He’s dead.”
The scientists took battle formation, with their orbs at the ready.
“Whatever that thing was,” continued Reuben, “it killed Dr Heldrain… and took my friend.”
“How can we be certain you’re not involved?” asked one of them, suspicious of Reuben.
“I’m the son of Charles and Sandra Price—” Reuben attempted to reply, but he was cut short.
“You’re an Artificial,” replied the same scientist, clearly resistant to any explanation. “I don’t care how perfect or imperfect your design was.” He shot out a holographic web to bind Reuben’s hands, took the tablet and then led him to the elevator.
The other scientist had a look that didn’t quite approve of the views just expressed. He seemed almost sympathetic toward Reuben, saying, “We’re just a little on edge. With the recent attack, we can’t be too careful.”
“The Artificials could be on our tail,” muttered the other as the elevator slowly rose to the two-hundred-and-ninety-eighth floor. “Not even the facility is safe anymore.” His voice grew soft and dreary. “After all our efforts… Is there really any point in fighting? Our extinction is here.”
“The facility won’t let them in,” said his companion, boldly. “It’ll reject their DNA. And, besides, we have to hope that the troops and garrisons are holding their own.”
