“Before the day is out we intend to return you to your quarters, to allow you to continue on as another one of our privileged students. We keep our promises, and we promised to train you, so train you we shall.”
Mark listened to Captain Williams, waiting for the catch. With what Mark had seen, the Academy would have to do something to prevent him from talking. If they would not kill him, maybe they planned to torture him first. The doctors had to be there for a reason.
“…I see you have noticed my friends here. Yes, I suppose they do stand out with the way they are dressed. You see, you are in the unfortunate position to have witnessed something that we cannot allow you to know. Even if we could trust you to keep it a secret, we train mind readers at this facility, and there is too great a risk that another student or professor could learn something that we would rather they not know. So before you leave, my friends here need to perform a simple operation. There is no need to worry; you will not feel a thing. In fact, you will not even remember that an operation took place. We are privileged enough to have found a method of picking memories out of a subjects mind, and erasing them from existence. So you see, there is no need to worry about your unfortunate discovery, as pretty soon you will remember nothing about it.”
Mark stared up at Captain Williams, eyes wide in horror. This was worse than death. He would train and fight for these people having no idea what they had done to him. He discovered the truth, yet he will be able to do nothing about it. He will in all likelihood live and die as a tool to these men, these men who perform wicked deeds behind closed doors.
Captain Williams nodded to the doctors, and spinning on his heels, waltzed back through the door from whence they had come. Mark heard the door knob rattle once more as the key was turned, locking the three of them in once more.
“Please do not do this, anything but this! Lock me up if you need to, but leave me be, I beg you.” Mark could see his pleas falling on deaf ears. He dropped his head back in submission, knowing there was nothing he could do. “How many people have you done this to? How many times have you manipulated people, forcing them to know only what you want them to know, and to forget what you want them to forget?”
The doctor, who was preparing to place a mask over Mark’s mouth, stopped. He blinked rapidly, and it occurred to Mark that the doctor was just as nervous, and possibly more so, than him. The doctor gathered himself again, placing the mask down over Mark’s mouth, starting the flow of some gas meant to force him into an unconscious state for the operation. Mark’s vision began to blur, and just before he blacked out completely he heard the doctor answer his question.
“You will be the first. But don’t worry; we are pretty sure that this will work.”
Chapter 4 – Two weeks earlier
When Mark walked into the gymnasium to be tested for admission to the Academy as a Titan, he knew he was ready. His father had trained him well over the past few years, constantly pushing him to learn how much he could lift, or how long, or how high. He studied the art of war, various martial arts, team techniques and formations. Every news story involving a Titan was recorded and watched repeatedly, with every movement broken down into fine detail, tested, perfected, and exceeded. Elise contributed as well, running with him, monitoring his nutrient intake, working as a check against their father to ensure that the methods of training were as safe as they were effective.
His body also did its part to push him to peak physical form. Mark had learned that abilities often develop differently from one person to the next, even within the same ability class. Some Titans grow taller than the rest, while some remain at their normal height. Sometimes their muscles grow thick and bulky, and sometimes they remain lean and deceiving. Some Titans become top heavy, while others have a more even spread of muscular development. Mark’s development combined in such a way that changed him into a formidable, hulking creature. He often felt like Frankenstein’s monster, drawing stares of wonder and often fear from anyone he passed. His height increased dramatically, leaving him at a height of six foot four inches, while most of the other boys his age were still a foot or more shorter than him. His muscles came in thick and even, not bulky, but hard as iron and perfectly toned over every inch of his body.
Despite all of this, his nerves upon entering the testing site made it hard to walk straight. He knew he would pass, that was not the issue. The Academy has a policy of automatically accepting anyone who can prove to be a Titan, Hermes, or Prometheus, and there was no doubt of what Mark had become. He could not put his finger precisely on what made him want to turn and run from the room; maybe it was the knowledge that his years of training with his father had ended, that this was the culmination of all the long days and short nights they had spent preparing. They had been preparing for this test. No, Mark corrected himself, we have been preparing for what comes after.
“There he is, there’s the boy I came here to see.” The woman who spoke rose from her seat at the side of the room and walked beaming over to meet Mark just inside the gymnasium doors. It was immediately clear that she was a Titan as well, as despite being smaller than Mark, she emanated confidence and strength as he had never before seen outside of the news reels he had studied so rigorously. It seemed odd to Mark that a fully trained Titan should be administering the tests in his small town. All that he had learned studying war tactics had led him to the conclusion that such a resource would be better utilized in battle, instead of coming out here to sit in a chair watching hundreds of students try to lift far more than they are capable. But he has not been trained by the Academy yet – he was sure they knew what they were doing.
“I am here to be tested as a Titan, ma’am. My name is Mark…”
“I know who you are,” she interrupted with a wave of her hand. “Relax, this test is more of a formality. The Academy tends to know who will be accepted long before we come to these schools to see for ourselves. If someone develops a power, word gets around.”
Her honesty helped to calm Mark, but he knew the knot in his stomach would not unwind until the test was officially over. He looked past his examiner at the room behind. He could see dumbbells placed in a circle around the room, starting out small and increasing in size as they circled back to the doorway where they now stood. The first dumbbell to Mark’s left was only fifty pounds, which confused Mark until he remembered that the vast majority of the time, the child who came in to be tested was not, in fact, a Titan.
“Shall I start here?” Mark asked, moving over to the fifty pound weight.
“Oh no, there is no need to begin that low with you. We can start over here, at 200 pounds.”
The 200 pound dumbbell was about halfway through the circle, and as they passed Mark could see that the beginning weights were more for show than for practical testing. Arriving at the specified weight, Mark waited for further instruction.
“Go ahead, you don’t need to wait for permission,” she said, stepping back and pointing her hand towards the weight on the ground.
“What am I to do with it?” Mark asked.
“It is just a dumbbell, just lift it up and put it back down,” she responded with a chuckle.
Mark knew what a dumbbell was, but he was surprised that they just wanted him to lift it up. He had not worked with such a low weight since shortly after his strength began, and even then his father had him count how many reps he could handle. Mark bent down and rapped his hand over the cool silver handle. He lifted the weight up over his head, and then lowered it back to the ground with less effort than most people take to lift a television remote.
“I can see that was still far too easy for you. Why don’t you tell me, what weight would you like to begin with?”
Mark thought back to his recent workouts. Being unable to find weights big enough, his father had him lift whatever was around, with the most common tools being felled trees in their back yard. He did not know what they weighed, as they had no way of measuring them. “1,000?” Mark responded, more as a ques
tion than as a choice.
“1,000?! You are a confident little guy aren’t you! 1,000 pounds is the largest set of weights we bring to these tests, and we never use them, even on real Titans! But I suppose you are a real Titan, and I am here to help should it get out of hand, so sure, let’s go ahead and jump right to the big guns!” she bellowed. There was not a trace of anger in her voice, but rather a pleasure at the prospect. They marched back toward the doors, stopping just shy at the biggest weights the room had to offer. Each side of the weights had simple white writing with “1K” facing outward.
Mark reached down with his right hand to pick up the weight. “Hold on killer, why don’t you start with two hands on this one, just in case,” she declared skeptically.
Mark slid his left hand in beside his right, and began to lift. The bar creaked as the weight transferred from the floor to the large hands pulling upward. The weight was greater than Mark had anticipated, so he bent his knees and lowered his weight to support the strain. He felt his muscles working as the mass of weight lifted up off the floor. He lifted the bar to his chest, and then extended his arms upward over his head before lowering them back down to his chest. Then, just to see if he could, Mark let go with his left hand, and proceeded to lift the weight over his head once more, this time with his right arm alone. Lowering the bar gently back to the floor, Mark looked up to the Academy representative with satisfaction.
She shook her head at Mark with admiration and respect. “Welcome to the Academy. You are going to fit in just fine.”
Chapter 5 – Present Day
A chill ran through Mark as he began to wake up. Though his eyes remained closed, he could tell that he had left the lights on in his room before going to bed. He scrunched his eyelids shut, trying to block out as much of the light as possible. He reached out to find his sheets, wanting to pull them up for warmth, but his hand only met air. He must have kicked them off the bed during the night.
He was unusually groggy this morning, and could not help but wonder if he was coming down with a cold. His stomach turned with a slight nausea. Mark decided to wait until Elise got home to get up this morning. He could not recall what day it was, but as his father has not woken him yet, it must be Sunday. He raised his arm over his eyes to block the light, and waited for the slamming of the door that would signify his sister’s return from her morning run. He could faintly remember the oddest dream, where he was strapped to a steel table, waiting for an operation he did not want. Mark shifted his head, and noticed that his bed felt unusually hard. Almost as if…
The chill returned, but no longer a result of the cold. Mark stopped and listened, fearing to open his eyes. There was no movement from the room around him, but he thought he could hear a faint, hurried breathing coming from somewhere nearby.
Sliding his arm slowly off his face, Mark looked around. To his horror he found himself in the same room he remembered from his nightmare. But it was not a dream, it had been real. He looked to his left to see three men sitting in chairs, watching him with a mix of expressions. The hurried breathing came from the lead doctor, the last face Mark had seen as he went under. The doctor twisted his hands on his lap, unable to keep still. His nerves had clearly worsened from what Mark had seen before the operation. In the middle sat Captain Williams, a crooked smile of curiosity and pleasure on his face. To his right sat a man Mark had never seen before, but who’s expression was the most alarming of the three due to its apparent lack of interest. This third man looked calm, almost serene, and stared unblinkingly at Mark’s face. Mark was certain there was a danger in that stare, and half expected to split in two under the powerful gaze.
Mark looked back, hating these men for what they had done to him. He remembered where he was now, at the mercy of these men, these cruel men who had bound and operated on him. He remembered fighting against them in the halls, trying desperately to free himself from two fully trained Titans, and the sight he had witnessed that made his capture a necessity.
He remembered!
The significance of this fact flooded upon him. The operation had failed! Mark breathed deep with relief, wondering what had gone wrong, and what they would do with him now. Even if the result was death, he would accept that fate over the cruelty which they had intended for him.
“The memory remains,” the calm man declared, never wavering from the hold his eyes held on Mark.
Mark tensed up at the words. He knew they would find out, but the realization of who this third man was hit Mark with a dark intensity. This man was a Prometheus, and the unblinking gaze meant that he was in Mark’s head, pulling out his thoughts for his enemies to hear. While this man remained with them, even Mark’s thoughts were not his own.
“How do you feel?” Captain Williams asked evenly. Curiosity hung in each word, but Mark knew it was not for his well-being.
“Vengeful,” Mark replied angrily. His situation could not get any worse than what it was, and the truth was available to them without his response. He would at least get the satisfaction of speaking his mind, if they would be reading it anyway.
“Understandable. Can you tell me what you witnessed earlier today?” he asked evenly.
“You know exactly what I witnessed, and it looks like you failed to pull it out of me,” he replied proudly, mocking them for their attempt.
Captain Williams looked to the Prometheus, who supplied a single nod. “We’ll see,” he replied, leaning back against his chair patiently. The captain’s sustained confidence restored the worry in Mark, and his proud smile faded.
“Do you recognize this man?” he asked, pointing to the nervous doctor, who began wringing his hands together ever faster.
Unable to come up with a snide remark, Mark chose not to answer. Of course he recognized that man. Recognized him, and hated him.
“Do you recognize me?” the captain continued in an even tone.
Again Mark remained silent. Of course he recognized him. How could he forget the man who orchestrated this whole charade? His hatred for the doctor in no way matched his hatred for Captain… Captain…
“He forgets your name,” the Prometheus responded, to the captain’s delight.
No, I do not, I just… I just cannot recall it right now…his name is…is…
“He is losing the memory of his sister,” Mark heard the Prometheus say. The captain shot a look to a man sitting next to him wearing white. How long had that man been sitting there? Mark could see beads of sweat starting to trickle down his face. Mark wondered what was wrong with this man – was something wrong?
“He is not supposed to forget his sister,” the man in the middle said. Who is not supposed to forget their sister? Mark knew they could not be talking about him, as he had no sister. Or did he?
“What is your name? What are you doing here?” the man asked.
“My name is Mark. I’m sorry, am I not supposed to be in here?” Mark asked, looking around him.
“You are fine. Do you know where you are?”
“Of course, I am at the Academy. I am here to be trained as a hero.”
Mark could not decipher his thoughts. What was this room? How did he get here? He looked to the three strange men, and was relieved. They looked as confused as he was, so whatever was happening, at least he was not alone. But he recognized the man sitting in the middle. He had seen him somewhere before.
Marks thoughts shot to the scene he had seen earlier that day. Of course! He had witnessed something, something the Academy had not wanted him to see. That is where he had seen this man before!
The realization of what was happening hit Mark. I must remember what I had seen! He struggled to keep the events of that day straight. If he should forget all else, he must remember that day! Mark closed his eyes, trying to focus. He struggled to stay calm, to keep his thoughts focused on his first day at the Academy.
The day started with the flight landing in front of the school…
Chapter 6 – That morning
Mark was jolt
ed awake by the plane touching down on a hard runway. He had intended to watch the arrival out the side window, in order to observe the Academy upon their approach. He wanted to see it from above, to get a feel for the size of the campus, to relish the start of a new future, a future destined for greatness.
His disappointment was short lived, as a quick glance out his window revealed the marvelous stone front of the main building. Pillars lined the front, tall columns of smooth white marble, holding up a stretch of roof with magnificent decorations. Mark stared in awe at the intricate depictions of chariot races, followed by great heroes vanquishing monstrous foes. One hero caught his eye, as it reminded him of himself, with the exception of the hideous severed head that he clasped proudly in his left hand, and the majestic sword in his right.
Mark turned back to look at the fellow inhabitants of his plane. They were all leaning eagerly towards the windows, craning for a view, for a glimpse at the legendary Academy where they will spend the next seven years training. The heroes out on that roof were the heroes of the past. Inside this plane were the heroes of the future.
Deboarding the plane was a frantic process, with the new students hurrying to get off as quickly as they could, which of course made the process take twice as long. Upon exiting the plane, students were divided into three groups, one for each ability, in order to begin their tours of the school. Mark could see that a few of the Titans had buddied up, but he was not worried. He knew that at the end of the tour they would be directed to their barracks, where all the first year Titans would room together. He would have plenty of time to get to know the other students later.
Titan (The Academy Trilogy) Page 2
