by Wid Bastian
“What Dr. Leavitt is trying to tell you is there are still significant variables to this process that have not been fully defined. We are highly confident in a ninety percent plus post-injection survival rate, but -.”
“One in ten of us will not survive the initial procedure?” Lieutenant Carter asked, interrupting Dr. Black.
“Oh, it’s nice to see that we have a math genius in the group,” Dr. Leavitt said sarcastically as he made eye contact with everyone in the room. “Now if you’d be so kind as to let me finish, yes, if past experience holds true one of you will die here. However, the mortality rate has been steadily declining over time.”
“What is all this?” General Alandreian asked, gesturing with his hands as his eyes surveyed the room.
“The fifteen units with chairs are the injectors. That’s where the nanomites will enter your body. It’s much like an IV drip at the hospital, but with a bit more kick. There are nineteen key locations in your body that must be injected simultaneously in order for the nanomites to bind with your DNA.”
“What will it feel like, Dr. Leavitt? When the little bastards go into our bloodstream?” Lieutenant Carter asked.
“Are you scared, LT? Want me to hold your itty bitty hand?” Sergeant Kano teased.
“Actually Carter is asking an intelligent question and it deserves a meaningful response,” Dr. Leavitt answered, scowling at Kano. “For a few people the pain is so excruciating it feels, or so they report, as if their ‘veins are going to explode.' In these instances, mortality is a real concern. Termination is the likely result. For most the experience is unpleasant, but quite tolerable, like a trip to the dentist. For another small subset they feel nothing at all and might even sleep through the entire procedure.”
“Damn,” Colonel Lancet said, “sounds like a real dice throw.”
“There are, how should I put this, a large number of intangibles in the process. But what we do know with great certainty is that the majority of you will become enhanced to such a degree, well… to the point where you can perform feats that will no doubt amaze us all.”
“If ya wanna be Superman ya gotta step inside the magic chamber,” Kano said, still acting like a cocky fool.
“Sergeant, have you always been a complete idiot or did you have to work at it?” Dr. Leavitt deadpanned.
Kano realized that his act had worn thin. All his comrades were looking at him disdainfully, wishing that he would simply shut the hell up.
Now that Kano was muted, Dr. Leavitt continued his explanation of the equipment in the lab. “The large plastic vat looking container securely holds the nanomites. They have already been infused with your blood to minimize the risk during the injection process, but there could be complications once they start to bind with your DNA. A significant number of variables remain that we cannot completely control.
“The lab is also equipped with a gas dispersal system. Multiple types of gas can be introduced on demand, most of them toxic to humans and, we hope, to nanomites. I will not hesitate to end all of our lives if I feel a breach is imminent.”
“A breach?” Alandreian asked.
“The nanomites must never be allowed to escape this facility. Once they are safely inside you, a part of you, then we believe the risk of non-intended infection is minimal.”
“In English, Doc,” Captain Mason asked.
“Let me break it down for you in layman’s terms. These nanomites are designed for one, and only one, purpose – to find a living host and combine with it. We have optimized them for human implantation, but they will also combine with several other species. That’s why this facility is in Antarctica, far away from most of the inhabited areas of the planet.”
Dr. Black looked over at Leavitt before interjecting, “We also believe nanomites die in temperatures below 10 degrees Fahrenheit. But, as with so many other aspects of this process, we just don’t know for –.”
“Alright then,” Dr. Leavitt said, interrupting. Obviously patience was wearing thin. “Any last questions before we begin?”
“Doc, if this goes wrong… I can’t speak for everyone, but for most of us, don’t let us, you know, become some sort of grotesque failed lab experiment. Do the right thing.”
“Cassia, I’ve studied your career and metabolic history extensively. You are as impressive in person as you are on my screen – more so in fact. You have all of the qualities, plus some special attributes…” Dr. Leavitt looked at Carl Black. He dared not open the subject because Carl just might… “You will not be disappointed. We feel strongly that you will become extraordinary.”
Chapter Four
The time for posturing and bravado was over. Each of the soldiers would do his duty, but allowing a bunch of mad scientists to inject you with tiny machines was not the same thing as charging a fortified position or flying through intense anti-aircraft fire on a bombing run. The lab was not a battlefield. It took a different type of courage to volunteer for the vanguard of a new human hybrid army, especially when you knew the experiment could easily fail and you could become something horrible fit only for the incinerator.
Sergeant Kano had no more swagger, much less a smart comment to offer, when the techs strapped him into his injector seat. Kano was ashen and shaking like a puppy after a cold bath. Cassia looked at him with a bit of pity because, as she suspected, all his blustering was a cover to hide his nearly paralyzing fear.
Lieutenant Carter closed his eyes and focused on his breathing as he was prepped. He opened them only briefly to look at Cassia, who silently mouthed “courage” to her brother in arms. Captain Mason and Commander Halverson scrutinized every movement of the doctors and staff as if they were preparing a formal review of the entire procedure for their superior officers.
Each soldier had his own method of coping. They knew that, at best, they would never be the same again and that for one of them the injector seat was likely an execution chair. All of them would have preferred to face death with a fighting chance, a Light Rifle in their hands or an aircraft at their control, rather than simply being strapped in and ordered to hold on and hope for the best.
The last two to be placed in their injector seats were General Alandreian and Cassia.
“Remember our promise to each other,” Cassia said, taking the General’s hand in hers.
Alandreian responded by giving Cassia a hug and kiss on the forehead. “For glory, honor and victory,” he said.
“For Rolf and Ferris,” Cassia responded.
Doctors Leavitt, Romero and Black retreated from the lab once the soldiers were loaded into the injectors. As soon as the lab was isolated and locked down, the security team moved out from behind the injectors and took up positions directly in front of the soldiers.
Cassia closed her eyes for a few seconds, but quickly opened them again. With her eyes shut the only thing she was able to see was Ferris, who at this very moment was no doubt waiting for her at home unaware that his mother would never return. Part of her could not believe she had made the deliberate choice to orphan Ferris, but another part of her argued that, sooner or later, if she remained on active duty he would likely become an orphan anyway.
She had lived for something, mostly duty and honor and for Rolf. Now Cassia wanted to die for something, to do whatever she could to put a stop to this madness of never ending war. Ferris needed to grow up in a world at peace and although she still considered that a remote possibility, the nano experiment was the best opportunity she had been given to help end the war.
Duty was everything for Cassia. She had no taste for power or politics. She had nothing but contempt for the elites who shielded themselves from the carnage that they’d created and now perpetuated. Cassia was a soldier, with a warrior’s ethics. She was being asked by her superiors to volunteer for the most dangerous assignment imaginable. There was no way she could turn it down without violating all of her instincts and every vow she had ever made to fight on until her last breath.
Waiting for the inject
ion process to begin, Cassia focused on the lab. All the light was artificial. She correctly assumed the lab was both below ground and surrounded by multiple levels of redundant security barriers. The lab was a mixture of black, white and polished grey metallic colors. The ceiling was white. The floor was black, dull and almost spongy; it reminded her of the tile found below deck on aircraft carriers. The supporting machines were polished grey metal. The injectors themselves, the attached cables, vats, straps and even the fabric on the injector seats were pure white. She suspected this was done so the tiniest bit of foreign material could be identified and eliminated. Cameras and pipes with nozzles on the end dotted the lab.
She knew she was an experiment now, no longer a person. Cassia had ceased to exist when her last restraining strap was tightened, and the only thing on her mind now was what she was about to become. Cassia looked up at the one way glass that separated the lab from the observation deck and control room.
Inside the control room, Dr. Leavitt was getting ready to start the injection sequence. Cassia’s intense stare caught his attention and he looked straight at her. Then he turned two dials after rapidly imputing a sequence of passwords.
Leavitt followed all of the triple redundant safety protocols with exacting precision. Once the lab was sealed, he was beyond certain that the nanomites could not escape. Even if one or two did, he believed that it wouldn’t make a difference. Outside the temperature was ten degrees below zero Fahrenheit and the only living creatures for hundreds of miles were the fish and perhaps the odd whale in the bay.
“Doctor, I’m showing green across the board,” Dr. Romero reported. “We are a go.”
Raoul Leavitt looked at General Schaffer, who was overseeing the experiment. After a confirming nod, the order was given. “Begin the injection process.”
The injection process was designed to be uncomplicated. First, a red light would illuminate on the soldier’s machine panel. When the nanomites were fully released into their body, the light would flash yellow. After an undefined absorption period, the light would flash green and the injector seat restraints would automatically release. At that point, the soldiers would be free to stand up and move about the lab.
That’s if all went well.
If one of them were to have a bad reaction, the only relief that could be offered was the cessation of the injection process and the introduction of anesthetics and other medicine through the IV. The lab was sealed shut until all lights read green. If a soldier’s heart or any other vital organ gave out during the process and he died, his corpse would just have to lie there and wait for a short trip to the cremation vault.
When the lights flashed red, a barely audible clicking sound could be heard as the nanomites were released from the vat. Cassia looked over and saw Kano struggling against his restraints; his eyes were wild, locked on the tubing as the nanomites made their way into his body. General Alandreian had found some point of light or object to fixate on and was in a near trance state.
For almost five minutes dull clicks and heavy breathing filled the room.
Then the screaming began.
Chapter Five
The screams of terrified men were familiar to Cassia. At that moment, she vividly remembered the nights she’d spent methodically drawing information from the enemy bit by painful bit. She knew the sound of torture very well – a helpless type of pitiful agony expressed as screeching, desperate pleas for mercy. But these were her comrades, not the enemy.
One of the soldiers, Hernandez, was in great distress. He had largely kept to himself sharing little about his past. As far as Cassia knew, Hernandez had not served with any of the other soldiers in the field. He was the youngest of the group, barely twenty two. He was a hand to hand combat specialist and instructor for Special Forces Command. Cassia remembered General Alandreian mentioning in passing that Jesus Hernandez might be second only to her in the ability to kill quickly and efficiently with or without weapons.
Hernandez occupied the injector directly across from Cassia right next to General Alandreian. His skin was now light red in color and both his arms and legs were swelling rapidly – he reminded her of an overfilled water balloon ready to pop. His eyes were bulging out of their sockets, like a person going through rapid decompression. He was both hallucinating and screaming, calling out to people unknown to “shoot ‘em all”.
Then, as quickly as the screams started, Hernandez stopped. His head dropped to one side. He looked dead.
“General,” Cassia called out in shock, “is he gone?”
“Negative,” Alandreian answered. “I can still see and hear him breathing.”
None of the security team reacted. They were in constant communication with the control room and they obviously had received orders to stand fast.
“Will somebody please help him!” Kano yelled frantically. “We can’t just leave him there that way.”
Hernandez’s skin was now bright red, his arms and legs were twice the size of his restraints. His puffy flesh folded over the straps concealing them from view.
“Calm down Sergeant. You have your orders, keep your head,” Commander Halverson ordered.
“Why won’t one of these monkeys do something? Shoot him for hell’s sake, drag him out of here, or –.”
“Or what? Kano, shut up. I’m tired of all your –.”
Captain Mason stopped talking and started shaking, violently shaking. He foamed at the mouth, discharging a vile shade of pale green liquid that smelled even worse than it looked. Something like scales began to form all over his body. The room went silent. They watched Mason’s body transform as he struggled against his restraints and then passed out.
“My God!” Kano screamed when it was over. “Let me out of here! I want out now!”
“Please,” Alandreian said looking up at the control room. “Either shut him up or kill him.”
Kano continued to rant for a few more seconds and then he passed out, as if someone had flipped a switch and shut him off.
“Thank you,” the General said with relief.
“Mason is coming around,” Commander Halverson said.
Captain Mason was regaining consciousness. His eyes were similar now to those of a snake. His jet black pupils were peeking out from behind the crusty shells where his eyelids use to be.
“Captain,” General Alandreian said. Receiving no response the General yelled, “Captain! Report!”
“Shsthhzzz, shthhzzz,” Mason coughed. “Shthhzzz.”
“I don’t think he has a tongue anymore, General,” Colonel Lancet said, in a surprisingly calm manner.
“The rest of you then, report. Cassia, go!” the General barked.
“I feel a little lightheaded, but other than that nothing, sir.”
“Colonel?”
“My entire body aches. It feels like ants are running up and down my legs, but I’m not in any distress.”
“Look at Carter,” Halverson said.
Lieutenant Carter was saying nothing and was not in any obvious pain. His skin was translucent and a shade of very light purple. Cassia could literally see the blood running through his veins, the muscles and bones beneath his skin were also visible. Flexing his right hand, Carter easily popped his restraint.
The security soldier facing Carter raised his Light Rifle and pointed it at Carter’s head.
“Easy son,” Carter said pointing at the sentry. Then he broke the rest of his restraints with ease. “I’m not going anywhere. You guys up in the control room, call off your dog. I’ll behave.”
The soldier backed off and resumed his post.
“Andy?” Cassia said. “Are you still in there?”
“It’s amazing, Cassia,” Carter answered. “I’ve never felt better. I’m sure I must look like a freak, but I feel unstoppable”.
“Stay still Lieutenant,” Alandreian ordered. “You’re still hooked up to the injector.”
“My light just went green, sir,” Carter reported.
“Mine
too,” Cassia said as her restraints popped off.
All but two of the soldiers standing guard backed off and then exited through a door across the room from the injectors. A few feet from where everyone was standing another passageway opened. Doctors Leavitt, Romero and Black emerged in their white lab coats, clipboards in hand. They looked pleased. The two security soldiers who remained behind escorted them as they walked toward the injector seats.
“Zero fatalities,” Dr. Leavitt said. “I’m astounded by our good fortune. I thought for sure that Hernandez was lost.”
Jesus Hernandez was still unconscious. His restraints had been loosened to accommodate his larger size, but he was still strapped into his chair.
