“I can already see the increased hunger has affected you,” Victor observed.. My face burned as I set the plate down. “Oh, don’t be embarrassed,” Victor began again. “Your body is burning off much more energy now and is trying to regain some of the fuel it’s losing.”
“What about my senses? How does this thing you implanted in me affect those? Is it supposed to?”
“Yes. Elevated levels of adrenaline can have a profound effect on your vision, hearing and sense of touch. If you look in the mirror, you may notice that your pupils are dilated. This is your body’s way of naturally enhancing your vision. It’s a defense mechanism used by your body to escape the invisible danger the adrenaline is telling your body exists. Your hearing is also enhanced for this reason. The only sense not enhanced is your sense of touch. This sense has actually been decreased to the point of numbness. The numbness lessens your feeling of physical pain and ultimately increases your overall stamina.”
Hearing Victor’s explanation, there was no wonder now why hitting a cement wall hadn’t seemed to faze me. “I guess I’m a regular force to be reckoned with.”
“Indeed you are. With Blake, you’ll be all but invincible.”
I looked over at Blake. He was eating slowly, staring outside the faux window, oblivious to the world around him. I doubted he wanted to be made aware of anything right now.
“You must have one hard head,” Cameron announced, entering the room from his assessment of my damage. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Don’t most women?”
“How would you know?” Becca sneered, clearing empty plates from the table. “Have you ever even talked to a woman for more than five minutes without having given her your credit card first?” Cameron went to speak, but Becca cut him off. “Oh, and your mother doesn’t count.”
“Oh…dang…she got you,” Drew proclaimed.
“You always hurt the ones you love, Becca.” Cameron shot a sly wink in her direction.
“Excuse me; I think I’m going to be sick now.” She picked up a pile of dishes and disappeared into the kitchen.
“She wants me.”
“Who wouldn’t,” Inez added. “You’re ninety-five pounds of pure romantic fury.”
“One hundred twenty, thank you very much. I’ve been working out.” He rolled up his sleeves and kissed his nonexistent biceps.
“On that note,” Victor scooted his chair back and gestured down the hall. “Care to join me in our science lab, Celaine?”
“As long as you’re not going to be inserting more objects into my body…sure.”
I heard a muffled laugh coming from Cameron’s direction to which Kara muttered, “Shut up”, between her teeth.
Like the medical room, the science lab was filled with technology I couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Beakers, vials, books and machinery dotted a room illuminated by fluorescent lighting that seemed almost archaic in comparison to the technology it shone upon. Like every other room here, the ambiance was nondescript, reminding me of a high school chemistry lab.
Scanning the lab, something peculiar caught my eye. In the middle of the room stood what appeared to be a mannequin. I walked closer to the oddity, studying it and taking notice that its height and dimensions were very similar to my own. Adorning the figure was a suit the likes of which I’d never seen before. It was black, smooth and very tight fitting on the form it covered. I extended my fingers to feel its material. It was like none I’d ever felt before, hard, but flexible. With the whole suit encased in such a hard, shell-like material, I wondered how heavy it would be if it were worn.
Around its waist lay a belt, utility-like in nature that I speculated served as a holster for a gun or other weapon. At its base sat a pair of boots resembling the same material as the suit. I picked up one of the boots and, to my surprise, assessed it to be rather light, even though it felt harder than a rock in my hands. Curious, I placed the sole of the boot to the bottom of my foot and realized that, like the suit, it, too, seemed to be my size.
“The size should be dead on. They took the final measurements before you came out of the anesthesia,” Victor confirmed my suspicions.
“Good to know I had people feeling me up in my sleep.”
“Oh, Celaine, always with the sarcasm. Although, I suppose it’s a good quality to have, especially with the monotony that exists around here.”
“How does she like the uniform?” Marcus entered the room.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” I answered him.
“That’s because there’s only one other one like it in the world. It’s one of my crowning achievements.”
“It feels so…solid. How am I supposed to wear it?”
“Looks are deceiving. It’s actually remarkably lightweight. The materials used in it are to thank for that. It’s not only ballistic proof, but also made from one of the most impenetrable substances available.”
“What is it? Some form of Kevlar?”
“Yes. Kevlar that’s had its molecular structure spliced with that of diamonds.”
“Diamonds?”
“Diamonds are the hardest substance on earth, as I’m sure you already know. In this lab, we have successfully been able to bind the molecules from Kevlar and diamonds together to form a super material. This suit is more than just bulletproof; it’s a virtual force field. You can get hit and feel like you haven’t even been touched.”
“So, what’s the dry cleaning bill run on this thing?”
Marcus looked at me perplexed as if he were contemplating what I’d just asked. “Well…well, there’s really no dry cleaning involved…I mean.”
“There, there, Marcus,” Victor interceded, clearly amused. “You see, Celaine, humor isn’t something that can be cultivated in a science lab.”
“Be that as it may,” Marcus interceded. “This is a multi-million dollar piece of equipment, and I ask that you treat its condition with the utmost seriousness.”
“You have my word.” I glanced at Victor as if to say, “Is he serious?”
“How about you try it on to see if we have the measurements correct,” Victor again saved the moment from turning awkward.
Marcus carefully peeled the suit off the mannequin. I speculated how comfortable it would be as it gripped my body. “Grab the boots and follow me,” he ordered.
“Yes, boss,” I responded. Marcus glanced at me in pure annoyance. “I’ll bet it’s a barrel of laughs in your household.”
“Yeah, my wife’s laughing all the way to divorce court.”
“Oh, I’m…Marcus, I’m sorry…I didn’t know.”
“It’s all right; just a natural part of devoting yourself to the Cause, right?”
My thoughts turned to Chase, and the pain I’d banished down to the deepest depths of my mind returned with full force. “I guess it is.”
Marcus led me to a small room used as more of a storage closet than any other functional purpose. I set the boots down on the floor as he handed me the suit. “I don’t think I need to tell you how to dress. Victor and I will be in the training room with Blake. It’s the one right before the dining hall. Meet us down there after you’ve changed.”
I stood there suit in hand, running my hand down its contours, trying to figure out how it’d been pieced together. It didn’t seem indestructible to me. In fact, it seemed downright fragile. Thinner than it had originally appeared on the mannequin, I wasn’t sure exactly how it would be able to stop a bullet and was terrified at the prospect of it even being used for that purpose.
Further inspection revealed a meticulously hidden zipper in the back. At least there was one mystery solved. I slipped out of my clothes, uneasy over donning the form fitting suit, but guessing that modesty was a foreign concept here. Standing on one leg, I slipped my foot into the first leg. Given how tight the legs alone felt on my body, I quickly theorized that I would need the jaws-of-life to get out of this thing if I managed to even get into it in the first place. When both legs were in, I sucked in my s
tomach, cutting off my air supply in the process, in order to pull the suit over my torso. Once covered, I fought my way through the sleeves with my arms until my hands poked through the cuffs.
Even without being zipped, the suit secured itself to my body, gripping it in a chokehold. I wondered if it was supposed to be like this or if the measurements taken had been just incredibly poor guesstimates instead. Straining against the material of the suit, I struggled to get the zipper zipped in the back all while thinking to myself that whoever made the suit must either be a sadist or that this was some twisted, sick joke. Inch by inch—although it felt more like millimeter by millimeter—I managed to zip up the back.
“Well, the hard part is done,” I said to myself.
Thankfully, the boots slid on easily since the material didn’t seem to be quite the same as the rest of the getup. Perhaps, they figured the boots didn’t need to be quite as secure as the rest of the suit as, aside from Achilles, no one ever died from a wound to the foot. And since I was no Greek warrior, I figured I’d be safe.
To top off my new look, I snapped the utility belt around my waist. I had to admit that even though the whole getup wasn’t exactly my style, I still felt pretty bad ass. The suit was entirely black in color. Coupled with the utility belt, it resembled an outfit a person would wear to a rock ‘n’ roll funeral. Still, despite the thin material, I did somehow feel as though I was encased in steel. The adherence to my skin gave me a sense of security. I was now both sleek and unstoppable. In slow, awkward movements, I took my first steps in the suit and, although stiff at first, my body unexpectedly became accustomed to it.
I walked down the hallway to what was referred to as the training room. Once outside, I heard Blake’s guttural gasps resounding through the steel doors as though he were being tortured. Perhaps, going in there wouldn’t be such a good idea after all. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door to find out what horrors awaited me on the other side. Oddly enough, when I opened the door, all that was there to greet me was a darkened viewing room containing a console filled with gauges, buttons, levers, and monitors illuminated with a virtual rainbow of lights. Sitting at the console were Cameron and Drew. Marcus and Victor were standing off to the side watching what I suspected to be Blake and the source of his discomfort through the viewing window. I walked in Victor’s direction, joining him in watching Blake.
Blake was running, jumping, dodging and punching at invisible objects around the entire perimeter of a padded room that I estimated to be nearly the size of a small stadium. I marveled at the speed at which he was executing his movements. They were absolutely remarkable and, until this morning, were speeds which I would have thought impossible. His jumps appeared as though he were taking flight. When he landed, he did so with such coordination and grace he appeared almost poetic. There was some unseen force in that room that was provoking him. Whatever or whoever he was fighting was giving him quite a workout, so much so that I couldn’t tell if he was winning or royally getting his butt kicked. My eyes traveled from the viewing window up to Victor, who was watching Blake as intently as a proud parent whose son was on the verge of scoring the game-winning touchdown.
“I take it he’s doing well?” I broke the silence, studying Victor’s unflinching expression.
“Quite. He’s working through a new simulation with a few added twists that Cameron threw in. He seems to be one step ahead of them.”
“Simulation?”
“In that room, a series of events is being played out that are invisible to us in this room, but are as real as you and I to whoever is in there. It’s an optical illusion. He’s wearing special glasses attuned to Cameron’s computer and is reacting to each scenario being displayed before him. If he were losing this particular one, the scenario would be shut off and he would immediately be asked to repeat it again.” He turned to me and smiled. “At the risk of sounding redundant, that suit really does suit you well.”
I felt so uncomfortable with the way his eyes were piercing through me that I decided to divert the course our conversation was heading in. Gesturing towards Blake, I asked, “Is the helmet a part of the whole simulation thing?”
“No, you will be fitted with a helmet as well. You will need to wear one at all times while you’re out. Of course, the obvious reasons for this are to protect your head from injury, but, when you go out in public, you will need to have your face hidden to prevent your recognition not only for your safety but for the safety of those you left behind.”
I was taken aback by that last statement. I hadn’t considered the thought that Chase would actually figure out who the new “superhero” in town was, and I most certainly didn’t see his life as being in jeopardy because of any decision I had made. As if sensing my sudden apprehension, Victor reassured me, “Don’t worry, The Man in Black would actually have to recognize you or know you first to have any way to use them against you. The odds of that happening are slim.”
Victor was right, but his statement did little to quell the concern creeping into my mind. If anything happened to Chase or his family because of me, I would never be able to live with myself. It would never happen. I would fight to the death to prevent it from ever happening. From out of the corner of my eye, I saw Victor’s body stiffen, possibly indicating that the simulation had reached a pivotal point.
“It’s the true test now. We’ll see how good he actually is,” Cameron muttered.
“Right, it’s now or never,” Drew concurred.
I walked over to check out what was being displayed in the monitors Drew and Cameron were staring at so intently. The picture painted in the monitor told a whole different story than the one taking place in the padded room. In the middle of a simulated scene, depicting a city in chaos, stood Blake, muscles rigid, glare visible through the mask he wore. He was the definition of every warrior I’d ever seen in the movies before they prepared for their final battle charge. I couldn’t tell what was getting him so riled up, but I knew it must be something big. Effortlessly, he leapt onto an overturned car in the middle of the crumbled remnants of a city street surrounded by hallowed out buildings and a bright orange sky as a backdrop.
“A little melodramatic, don’t you think?” I turned to Cameron.
“Hey, this is the only entertainment I have so….” He’d turned his chair around to look at me, finding himself speechless. “On second thought…”
“Wow,” Drew added, turning around. “Remind me to send a nice “thank you” note or fruit basket or something to Marcus.”
“Okay, boys. How about we keep our eyes on the monitor?” Annoyed, I gestured back to the monitor.
“Smoking hot and bossy, just the way I like my women.” Cameron didn’t know when to quit.
“I hear Blake is making a mockery out of your new simulation.” I smirked.
“The beginning of my program was all just child’s play. The true test of his abilities are yet to come.”
I didn’t have a chance to ask Cameron what he meant by that as, at that moment, a sickening thud rang out from the simulator, followed by a deafening scream of agony from Blake. I diverted my attention back to the monitor to see the image of the figure that had burned itself into my subconscious over the last ten years. The Man in Black was here.
Chapter Eighteen
The Ropes
Blake barged out of the simulator looking ragged and worse for wear. In frustration, he ripped off his helmet, wiping away the sweat that had accumulated on his brow. “Damn it,” he grumbled.
“You came close until the end there.” Cameron inadvertently poured salt into Blake’s wounds. “Don’t worry. You’ll get another crack at it tomorrow.” Blake muttered something that sounded like another expletive under his breath. He glanced briefly at me, doing an instant double take which only supplemented Cameron’s amusement. “It fits her well, eh?” He smirked. “Maybe she doesn’t even have to learn to fight. We can just use her as a distraction. I mean The Man in Black is still a man, right?”
>
My face burned. Catching Cameron’s eye, I mouthed “shut-up” in his direction.
“Blake, you did very well.” Victor walked toward our little group. “You almost had him. It’s too bad that almost will get you killed here in the real world.”
“Understood, Sir,” Blake replied.
Victor smiled as though he took an acknowledgement from Blake as being a sort of twisted victory. “Well, what do you say to testing out Celaine’s new wardrobe?”
“What does he mean by that?” I muttered to Blake.
“I hope you enjoy getting smacked around,” he answered.
“Sounds like one swell afternoon. Although, I have my concerns as to how this thing is supposed to protect me. It feels like steel, but it’s almost as thin as a sheet of paper.”
Victor laughed. “This is certainly a clear case of looks being deceiving.” He turned to Blake, gesturing towards me. “Blake, would you oblige?”
“Here? Right now?”
“Why not?”
Blake sighed, facing me. “You heard the boss,” he shrugged. “Stand still, don’t move. This may hurt you more than it hurts me.”
Before I had a chance to protest, he had his hand balled into a fist that was heading with a vengeance directly toward my stomach. I shut my eyes, bracing myself for its impact and certain bodily harm. A loud grunt, followed immediately by several sharp cries of agony, erupted a second later. Strangely though, they hadn’t come from me. Opening my eyes, I saw Blake on the floor. He was writhing in pain, alternating between holding onto his hand in pain and shaking it profusely. His fingers were noticeably misshapen. Marcus, Cameron, and Drew stood behind him with their jaws nearly touching the floor.
“Did he miss or something?” I was standing close to a wall and assumed that Blake’s fist must have run off course.
“No, he was dead on,” Cameron pronounced.
Enigma Black Page 17
