by Cole Anders
Calvin swiped through his data pad briefly, not really looking for specific information but simply re-reading a few cadet meta-analysis readouts. “We should shorten and limit the entry routines though. Right now, it looks cadets are subconsciously thinking it’s just a matter of hard work and willpower to pass the gorgon, and wasting months on trainees like this isn’t productive. We’re already pulling from the best in the world. They’ve already proven they won’t quit when things get tough elsewhere, so maybe there is no point in making them prove it to us again when that’s not what we are even looking for.”
Melbrook looked up from his data pad. “I suppose you’re right Calvin, we haven’t passed a cadet in years. I hate to say it but we are just wasting good men on something that’s out of their control the help. Maybe we really should start exposing cadets sooner in the training?”
“What about using a different exposure for first timers? Hitting them with this one for their first time might be producing false positives.” Said Calvin.
“The possibility is there, we’ve seen people resist nausea and amnesia gorgons only to fold against the more catastrophic ones later. But I don’t want to be in the field with someone who might buckle without warning. And anyway, there is no 100% resistance.” Said David.
“I know, you’re right. People who can pass one of the lesser gorgons the first time but not the greater ones will always be at risk of failing either of them at any time. It’s too bad we can’t train the resistance, they either have it or they don’t.” said Calvin.
The testing lab room slide open with the slight pop and hiss of an air tight seal being broken. The two cadets that helped the last cadet to his quarters returned, both a little paler than when they left. Rickenbaugh knew them both, he personally reviewed every single individual selected to go through the program.
Captain Jim Garza, Hispanic American, 27 years old. No family or living relatives, air force fighter pilot top of his class. Covert combat mission experience, proficient in the operation of all major airborne vehicles, both fixed wing and rotary. Cadet Garza has outstanding physical endurance, one mile personal best, 4.23 minutes. Cadet Garza was bumped out of flight status because of an aircraft malfunction that caused his fighter to crash, though ultimately held responsible for the incident, cadet Garza has made the best of his new situation in the administrative side of air force operations. The setback did not affect his personal drive or integrity. Meta-analysis indicates extreme loyalty, rigid thinking, and extreme focus while under stress. Cadet Garza has demonstrated a natural ability to form strong bonds with those he works close with, making him easy to trust and be trusted.
Richard Tuller, White Caucasian, 33 years old, narcotics detective for L.A.P.D. Cadet Tuller’s Wife and son were killed in a car accident last year, likely the result of organized crime retaliation. Cadet Tuller made detective at the age of 24, he has an almost perfect record for cases, though most charges have not lead to convictions due to internal corruption. Cadet Tuller himself does not have a single incident of corruption in his time as an officer. He is currently suspended without pay and has a hit on him paid for by a local cartel boss. Meta-analysis indicates highly accurate social reading skills and lie detection. Also, a willingness to accomplish perceived tasks regardless of personal sacrifice or gain, as well as an aversion to shows of ritualized honor such as medals or accommodation.
It had always been a priority to recruit cadets at the end of their rope. While their previous occupation mattered little, it was important to select individuals who could be trusted to thrive in challenging situations, and who had as little natural fear as possible, and who wouldn’t be missed if they disappeared. The foundation of their minds is the most important part, after that, anyone can be trained to do nearly anything.
“Sir, we’ve returned Cadet Smith to his room. He was unconscious when we left, we notified the medic on duty.” Said Tuller.
“That’s fine, bring in cadet Fielding, he’s next up.” Said Rickenbaugh, swiping back to his Readout.
Simon Charles Fielding, Caucasian 30 years old. Currently unemployed. Cadet Fielding was orphaned at birth and raised in foster care until the age of 11 when he was adopted by an elderly couple. Both foster parents are now deceased, no remaining relatives either biological or adoptive exist. Cadet Fielding served and uneventful eight-year military service which included two combat tours both of which only had a single incidence of live combat, cadet Fielding conducted himself with modest distinction during his service but did not overly excel during his time in the service. Cadet Fielding also possesses minor mostly self-taught survival training, and has no college education. He was self-employed until a year ago, when a near fatal car accident left him with insurmountable medical bills and no means to pay off a critical neck surgery he received after the accident. Meta-analysis indicates cadet Fielding is a highly independent thinker with excellent intuitive understanding. He came to the agencies attention by answering an ad specifically targeted at recruiting individuals outside of the normal system of military, academic, and law enforcement organizations.
After being lead in by Cadet Tuller and Garza, Rickenbaugh excused them so that the only people in the testing room where Agent David Melbrook, Agent Calvin Rickenbaugh, and cadet Fielding.
“Sir, cadet Fielding reporting to medical exam.” Said Fielding.
“Good, regardless of how you do here Mr. Fielding, your relationship with myself and agent Melbrook and all the other agents here has changed as of right now. You are about to enter the next phase of the training, which will be unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. And standing on formality will only slow down your acclimation as this point. Please, I’d like you to call me Calvin from now on, and Agent Melbrook is David.” Said Rickenbaugh.
David Melbrook crossed the room and gestured Simon to a small tap line on the floor.
“Simon, it’s good to see you’d made it here, I understand the training has been extremely challenging for you.” Said David.
“Sir, um, yes. It’s been the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I was in the army a few years ago, but nothing compares to this training regimen. And most of the other guys are all hardened combat veterans and Special Forces types. Whereas I came into this needing to lose a few pounds.” Said Simon
“Once you get past this, everything will change, the reason you don’t see cadets farther along that you around is because they move to another part of the compound after this step. But don’t worry, you’ve proven you can hack it, we just need to test your reaction to a special kind of weapon you might be encountering in the field.” Said David
“I see, you aren’t going to shot me, are you?” asked Simon.
Rickenbaugh smirked, “No, nothing like that, but you may wish we did after this.”
Simon swallowed the huge lump that suddenly appeared in his throat, not bothering to try and hide it.
“I’d like you to stand along this tap line. This is likely going to be the worst thing you’ve ever experienced in your life. It’s going to feel like you are being crushed by a red-hot slab of iron while simultaneously your mind forgets all the joy you’ve ever felt. You’ll feel as if your life has been a bitter joke and your body will beg you to just quit living. The instant bottomless depression you are going to feel will make you want to give up breathing. And then, once you have lived an eternity in that millisecond of agony, you will think your body dies right out from under you. The pain will leave in a few hours, but your mental state will only worsen. Once you’ve completed this, you will be placed in the care of a professional psychologist for several weeks so you can come to terms with the depression that will set in. It happens to absolutely everyone and is part of this weapon’s effect. Are you ready for this?” Said David.
“Fuck.” Simon gulped.
Calvin nodded, “Yeah, it’s a real kick in the nuts the first time, but you’ll live, just remember that. You will not actually die in this room today.”
Simon
could feel sweat forming across his brow. He felt fortunate that he had already turned to face the wall with the lens at the far side of the lab room, so that Calvin and David couldn’t see the bead of sweat sliding down his cheek.
Simon’s brain began to flood his conscious mind with whirling thoughts, trying to anticipate something he had no way of predicting.
Just a few seconds ago, Smith was carried past him nearly unconscious drooling on his jumper, and he began to wonder what chance he stood.
Simon’s mind began going over the last few minutes again looking for clues to the next few. “I can’t believe Agent Rickenbaugh has turned on the buddy act out of nowhere. Yesterday he was running me through concentration drills in the exam room, forcing me to remember long strings of numbers while he blew an air horn. But it’s like he’s a completely different person now. Maybe it’s to throw me off, make me relax so that I’m not ready. Ready for what exactly though? I suppose I have no clue what’s about to happen to me, other than the fact that it’s supposed to be the worse than anything I could ever imagine. My instincts tell me it’s going to be like electrical shock or maybe it’s one of those sonic weapons I’ve heard about on the news. That looks like an ordinary camera lens there in the wall, I’ll bet it’s going to emit high intensity microwave flash that makes it feel like my skin is on fire, I remember reading about those in an article somewhere once. Ok, good, I’ve got a plan, when the fire comes; I’ll just block it with walls of ice in my mind, so much ice that a glacier will look like a water tap in winter. If I can stay focused on that, I should at least stand a chance. What was that a green flash just now?”
Simon shifted in his shoes for a moment, unsure if he was supposed to react to the flash he just saw. After a few moments of silence, his mind started up again.
“This is taking a while; they must be trying to psych me out to get me to lower my guard. Maybe this isn’t about being exposed to anything painful at all. Ya, this is one of those tests were they just wait until I turn around and ask what’s happening. But am I supposed to turn around right away or not at all? Buford was in and out of here really quickly and he could barely stand. But maybe that was part of the test. Everyone’s training has been different after all. Ok ya, I think I’m supposed to realize that there are no such thing as magic pain flashlights and just turn around and say so. The friendly demeanor is meant to encourage me to do just that. Kind of a grow beyond the training deal. Turn around and say that you don’t believe in magic flashlights. Ugh, I’m feeling sort of queasy all of a sudden, maybe I’ll have time to use the bathroom before the next part of the exam.”
Just as Simon began to turn around, Calvin’s voice broke the silence. Simon could hear the uneasy apprehension in Calvin's voice and he almost jumped from the sudden sound of it.
“Simon! Speak to me if you can! I’ve never seen anyone pass out on their feet before, he must have completely locked up.”
David, nearly shouting, “He may seriously be dead, might have gone rigid like a statue and either broken his own neck for clinching or maybe died from suffocation when he couldn’t draw a breath. We need too…”
Simon, wheeled around, his mind still processing what they were saying just as he began to say what was already coming out of his mouth, “Sir, I mean Calvin, I don’t think your flashlight had any effect on me, I never much believed in that kind of stuff anyway.”
Calvin visibly flinched, and took a moment to compose himself while sharing a worried look with David Simon could see even through his eye protection.
“Cadet Fielding, Simon, look at me. How do you feel right now?”
David took his goggles off and began walking over to Simon.
“Son, would you like to sit down? Do you feel any numbness in your hands?”
The reaction Simon got from David and Calvin was not what he expected. He assumed there must have been a malfunction they weren't aware of yet.
“No I feel alright, to be honest I felt a wave of nausea come over me, but it’s already subsiding now. I’m not sure what’s going on here, I saw a quick green flash come out of that thing over on the wall, but that was it, I didn’t feel any burning or tingling so maybe it malfunctioned?
David produced a stethoscope from under his lab coat and began listening to Simon’s chest.
“Calvin, his heart rate is elevated, but regular. Pupils look good, minor dilation. Skin looks and feels ok. It’s my professional opinion, David, that Simon Charles Fielding is the most resistant person to the Gorgon effect I have ever seen.”
Calvin hastily crossed over to the desk on the other side of the room, picked up a tablet from the desk, and began to swipe through the pages with only a groan for acknowledgment.
“He hasn’t been exposed to the Gorgon effect before has he? Even by accident?” Asked Calvin.
David finished his examination and stepped back, his expression one of simultaneous concern and curiosity.
“Simon, do you realize what’s just happened to you?”
“No, but I’m starting to think that what was supposed to happen actually did happened. What, exactly, was supposed to happen again?” Asked Simon.
“You just completely ignored a full sequence exposure from a lethal device called a Gorgon lamp. We’ll have plenty of time to cover the details on what that is, and what that means for you soon. But in the meantime, we’ll need to you go through a health screening and psychological evaluation as soon as possible, starting today.” Said Calvin
“Sir, I’ve been studied and tested for months here, what could there possibly be to learn about me that's left to learn?” Asked Simon
“What you don’t realize yet, my boy, is that everything up until this point has been a farce, worthless. Your life has changed so completely in the last five minutes that you will not recognize it in another week.” Said David.
“What about the others? Smith? Did he pass, or… did they die in here?” asked Simon.
David allowed a small thin smile to work its way onto his face. Simon couldn’t help but marvel at the one eighty switch around on David’s demeanor from what person he’d known during training, he seemed like a completely different person. Calvin as well.”
“Maybe the drill sergeant act was for show after all, and this is the real David and Calvin. Damn that’s gonna be hard to keep straight from now on.” Thought Simon.
Calvin dropped his tablet back onto the desk and crossed over to where David and Simon were standing. He reached out and clasped one of his long thin hands onto Simon’s shoulder. Simon was shocked by the strength in it, feeling like a steel vise had been cranked down on his shoulder.
“My boy, you are the first people to pass exposure in a long time. It’s been almost two years since we’ve found someone who could make it, and no one has ever done it quite like you.” Said Calvin.
3. Acclimation
During the three weeks following Simon’s first exposure to the lamp, David went over every inch of his body and mind looking for even the slightest sign of an adverse reaction. But apart from a temporary elevation in blood pressure and a semi-rapid heartbeat which quickly normalized on its own, as well as a mild sensation of impending dread. Simon displayed a perfectly normal health afterwards. David continued monitoring Simon closely for a few more weeks, but they went ahead with integrating Simon into the normal operations of the facility.
Not surprisingly, Simon was the only one in his class to pass the exposure, but that was to be expected. The rest of the cadets had all already be shipped off to be cared for by long term institutions for physical or mental breakdowns stemming from their time at during the training or from the effects of the lamp during their own exposures.
Simon was given full reign, for the most part, to explore the Firewall compound at his own pace, and neither Calvin nor David seemed to have any problem with letting him wander around unsupervised while he recovered.
As he explored, Simon realized the facility was separated into two basic sections. The to
p section that was designed to receive guests and new cadets, little more than just a facade. And the underground complex that housed fully functional labs, an armory, and various other facilities. It was this underground complex buried beneath the surface buildings that housed all the real components and equipment used by the organization.
However, even the surface facility was well hidden. Located down an unassuming county road in rural Oregon, the unpaved and seemingly unmaintained drive leading up to the compound was unmarked and not even gated. Approaching the building, the drive split into two, with the left leading down into a shuttered parking garage, and the right leading up the front of the main visitors building, turning in a tight circle, then leading back out to the main drive. The visitor’s building did not have parking of any kind beyond the small looped driveway. The main, and only, visitor’s entrance was little more than a plain stone front with a darkly tinted lobby window centered over the front double doors. The small landing at the front entrance was flanked on either side by simple yet tasteful landscaping.
Up the three shallows steps leading through the lobby door, the main lobby consisted of extremely Spartan aesthetics. The only flourish of note was the Agency emblem and creed etched in fine detail onto a huge brass disk in the center of the white marble floor. The emblem itself depicted a complex circular labyrinth, surrounded by a thick bordered upwards pointing hexagon. Below the labyrinth, an axiom “Mens quasi castra”, mind like a fortress, words that would come to define Simon’s life. The room was deceptively well designed, halfway across the room the walls, ceiling, and even the floor, all subtly angled inward causing the far end of the room to appear much farther away than it was, forcing the eye along the subtle and straight to the reception area. However, there was no receptionist, not a human one anyway. Instead, a six-foot-tall flat black display was embedded into a black marble rectangle where a receptionist’s desk would be in any normal office lobby. From a distance the whole room looked like sterile anti-chamber made for worshipers of this solemn black monolith. In contrast to this oppressively foreboding room, the bathrooms to the right of the main entrance were refreshingly mundane. In each of the angling walls along the rear of the room had doors, the right leading the cadet training area, the other leading into several completely empty office and conference rooms. Except for the cadet training area, the entire front of the building seemed abandoned. The training areas, while also simple, were at least furnished.
