Prototype: The Lost and Forgotten Series

by Robert Gallagher

“I’m not controlling them, and I’m not entirely sure why they might have allowed you to live,” Alistair Brookes replies. “I did not wish to add more on your already sizable problems, but now I think you have earned at least my complete honesty. We are not the first to be imprisoned here.”

  Sam listens closely to Alistair’s answer and then releases him. “What exactly do you mean? The freakers were trapped here before we arrived?” he asks, and Abs moves in a step closer.

  “No, not exactly. The majority seems to be made up of prisoners from the first level, but the system has detected prisoners from other levels going missing—not dying, but steady reports of violent activity and self-mutilation—and then after a new level is brought online, the prisoner drops from the system and seemingly vanishes, not to be scanned again.”

  By the end of Alistair’s theory and explanation, Sam starts to feel worse about the facility. “Are you saying any one of us could change and become a freaker?”

  “Change? No, I don’t think so, and the numbers that have changed from the very start to now have reduced, becoming less with each new level that comes online. If it was something that could be spread, those numbers would be increasing.”

  “Okay, fine. That makes me feel a little better, but not a lot. So why do you think they changed in the first place?” Sam asks, racking his own brains for reasons.

  “Like I said, I do not think we are the first to be imprisoned here. I suspect something or someone is turning them in some way,” Brookes adds.

  Before any of the others can react to this new revelation, a trustee rushes into the room. “Sorry to interrupt, Professor, but you asked for any updates. We found Frank in the lost and found under a pile of dead freakers; we thought he was dead along with the others, but once we started to clear the bodies away, Frank regained consciousness. He’s been taken to medical.”

  Neil looks up and is about to say something, but Sam gives him a “not now” look. “Frank is one hell of a survivor. What occurred earlier can wait for now. Frank has been through a lot, and I would be grateful if I could be kept updated with his condition.”

  Alistair nods an okay and turns to face the trustee. “Thank you for the update. Please keep us both informed, and please make sure that all the bodies are taken to the morgue. Dr. Moore will need to examine them before disposal.”

  “Yes, sir, will do.” The trustee turns and leaves.

  Watching the trustee leave, I retell the story of the escape attempt to the professor. He looks increasingly impressed until the final outcome produces the same results as the first retelling to the others, deep disappointment. The professor promises to find out more about the mysterious escape attempt. Whoever it was knew far more than your average inmate.

  The cleanup takes longer than expected. The rest of the good-time boys are eventually found, but the leader of the freakers has vanished. Somehow Frank was able to kill at least four of his attackers, although two of them managed to crawl away from him and then later died.

  We are led back to our rooms so we can eat, rest, and sleep. The professor promises to answer any other questions we might wish to ask. I make a promise to myself, too: that I will do my utmost to find us a way out of here, not only for myself and the professor but for all who found ourselves fighting for our lives in the lost and found.

  The head of the freakers stares down at the floor in total darkness, the lights in this section of the facility no longer functioning, but like all freakers, he can see perfectly well. The voice calmly explains again what is needed of him and how tenuous his position now is. “You had one simple task, just one: kill Jessica! Sam McCall must not have her as a friend.”

  The voice pauses as the man steps slowly and softly around the freaker. He then stops, places a hand upon the freaker’s head, and slowly stokes it. “I will forgive you this one time, but if you let me down again, the gifts I have given you will not be enough to save you from my wrath.”

  6

  The Last Escape

  Facility Zero, 202 days online: federation year 2426

  We spend the first week back from the lost and found within medical. Abs had superficial wounds from her stand against the freakers, and she retold her account of the showdown to us with grisly details. Frank amazed us again by not dying, and the doctor was amazed at his recovery. The majority of his wounds were not life threatening, and the stump where his hand had been severed was treated to ensure no other complications would occur. Frank had remained unconscious for the first week, and when he awoke, he demanded food, which raised everyone’s spirits.

  Neil remained absent after that and decided to move back into the community. Neither of us mentioned what had happened, and maybe that was for the best. Jake left after the next week, claiming boredom and the need to return to his duties, but he made me promise that I would keep him up to date with any news.

  After three weeks Frank had recovered enough to take small walks around medical. Considering how many injuries he had sustained, that was nothing short of a miracle. “Well, that’s what you get from a heavy worlder,” the doctor had said on passing after seeing Frank’s improvements. Abs did not seem surprised, considering Frank’s size, but I was a little taken aback. Although I knew about heavy worlders, they generally kept to their own worlds due to their heavier-set muscles and bodies due to the increased mass of their worlds.

  But then Alistair Brookes’s arrival brings me back to the reality of our situation of being locked away. Whatever Frank did in his previous life, it was severe enough for him to be brought here.

  “Hey, Sam, hope you are feeling better. I’m sorry for just popping in, but the doctor informed me that Frank is well enough to be discharged soon,” Alistair says with his usual warming smile, making it hard to dislike the man. Whatever his reasons for designing a place like this, he’s not a bad guy. “You guys seem to be inseparable of late, which is understandable, so I’ve taken it upon myself to create you a place near the operations center for you and Abs, Frank of course, and a terminal. You won’t have to work if you don’t wish to.” Alistair pauses again as Abs looks up and we exchange glances.

  “Thanks, Alistair. I was going to ask you if something like that could be arranged. I’ve been having late-night walks with Abs recently, and we are both concerned about what happened at the lost and found. Not only that, we need information, and a lot of it, if we are going to make it out of here. The issue originally was maybe a little easier with just two to escape, but now it’s looking increasingly harder to overcome.” I look at Alistair with concern. “I also have a bit of a confession to make.” Alistair and Abs give me an “oh” look.

  “It’s to do with my past. I’ve always been good at problem solving and achieving the impossible with ingenuity. Systems will always have a flaw; stealing something is always possible with the right plan, but getting away with it is not that easy. My very first idea was working out how to skim credits away from a global trading terminal on Earth. I set up a fake corporation on Mars that announced it was going to manufacture dust filters. I then hacked into the global transfer market and slipped in a very tiny program. The transfer market charges for any corporation searches, and with this program, every time someone accessed details of my company on Mars, one credit from that charge was transferred to my corporation bank account.” I pause there, allowing my thoughts to assemble themselves before I continue. “I knew I would not make a lot, but then that famous storm of seventy-seven occurred on Mars, the rush for any kind of filtration systems went into overdrive, and my corporation made over a billion credits in just over one weekend. This kind of money turns heads, and my corporation was found to be a fake. The money trails led straight back to me, and I was arrested for my first time.”

  I smile to myself, remembering that first time. Alistair looks shocked but impressed, and Abs chuckles. “How old were you?” she asks.

  “Oh, I was thirteen.” I grin, and Abs looks positively amazed. “But the fact that my program made so much
money wasn’t the main problem. The back orders my company received for filtration systems went into the hundreds of billions. I overpriced my entire catalogue to make sure nobody tried to buy anything; every item was totally overinflated, but that storm was just so nuts, it drove demand through the roof. Ironically, if I’d been producing filters, my business plan would have worked…well, for that season at least.”

  “You mentioned you had a confession,” Alistair asks, still looking amused from my story.

  “I was just getting there. I was taken to a federation low-security center and told in no uncertain terms how much trouble I was in by almost every federation officer that spoke to me except for one. His name was Elbridge, Commander Elbridge. He just said how clever the plan was and that I was just a bit too successful and that he would be keeping an eye on me from there on out. He was the nicest, but sadly I never saw him again. Well, for a few years at least. I escaped after a few weeks, and my life of crime and being on the run started there.

  “At this point I started to receive job contracts. Steal this, sabotage that, make sure the voting system on an outpost is loaded in favor of a particular person, tasks like that. Sometimes I would be caught; other times I would get away with it. But then I bumped into Elbridge again, and some of the lucky escapes in my past became clear. It turned out that a lot of my contracts came from Elbridge, and he explained to me that I’d been working for him for some time now, and a lot of my escapes were due to him.

  “My career changed that day. Elbridge was very happy for what I’d been able to do for him, and so I started to get contracts from other federation officers. I would be given the job, but I made the plans. Sometimes I would get away scot free, and other times the plan would be for me to get arrested to clear the heat quickly; then within a week or two, I would escape again.”

  Alistair’s and Abs’s faces show they are starting to follow where this is all leading. “I needed to tell you this, as my past is a little complicated. I’m good, maybe great, at planning the impossible, but my reputation for escaping from everywhere is not true, at least not completely. I had a lot of help.” I stop there, feeling relieved to get that revelation off my chest, but it’s not my confession that is surprising.

  Abs is looking disheartened, but it’s Alistair who catches me off guard. “I know all this, but thank you. I appreciate it, but I think it is I who owe you a confession and an apology. My friend and colleague Commander Taylor was the one that got you sent here. You might not have known, but on one of your last jobs, he made sure you discovered something that you could not resist. I’m sorry, Sam, but I am responsible for getting you sent here. Commander Taylor thought you were my last best chance of escape.”

  I decide I need a walk. Alistair’s revelation is more than I expected. I wanted to clear the ground and let the others really know more of my past, but in doing so, I’d found more than I expected. I take a random destination, and halfway through I change my mind and end up at the dining hall. I’m feeling hungry anyway, and now is as good a time as any to reenter the open population of the facility.

  As soon as I enter the dining hall, the chattering conversations from all around the room suddenly stop as all the heads one by one turn and stare at my arrival. The various rumors regarding what happened at the lost and found have run through the facility like wildfire. They range from a mass breakout attempt to an alien invasion from the black hole itself. One of the rumors comes close to being right, and that’s the one about Frank taking on a whole bunch of freakers and living to talk about it later, except Frank would not say what occurred between him and Neil.

  Taking a tray full of food, I head for a table as most of the room continues to stare in my direction. Choosing a mostly empty table, I sit down with my best “don’t even try to talk to me” look, which seems more successful than I had hoped for, as the current occupiers of the table stand up and leave. Feeling rather happy with myself, I tuck into my food. It’s not particularly nice, but it fills a hole. My mood takes a nose dive once I realize the true reason for everyone’s sudden departure as Samuel sits down opposite me.

  “Hello, Sam. It’s been a while. Sounds like you have had a bit of a rough time of it of late, but it looks like you managed to struggle through without too much trouble.” Samuel watches me for some kind of reaction.

  “It was a bit tense. Sadly, Frank suffered more than the rest of us,” I reply between mouthfuls of food.

  “Depends on your point of view, I guess. I would say that the good-time boys had suffered the most, but then again, out of all who were involved, they deserved what happened to them more than most,” Samuel replies with a smile as he watches me eat.

  “I’m not sure anyone deserved what they got, except maybe the freakers themselves,” I counter, wondering where this is all leading.

  “Maybe, I guess, but I’m wondering if we all deserve to suffer in one form or another, considering we have all been sent here for whatever reason. But I can see that some of us have transgressed more than others. Maybe the ones that suffered most are the ones that deserved it most,” Samuel replies, still watching and still waiting.

  I stop eating, putting my utensils down. “Okay, Samuel, what is it you want?”

  Samuel stops smiling and answers promptly, “I would’ve thought that was obvious. I want what most of us want. I wish to leave here, and as soon as possible. When we first met, I did you a slight favor, and you knew it would cost you. I’m just reminding you of that. Also, I would like to help you in any way I can, mainly through information.” Samuel pauses, letting his words sink in, and then continues, “I know who tried to escape, and I’m betting Alistair won’t like you knowing.”

  “What are you talking about?” I reply with a bit more vehemence than I meant.

  “I’m talking about how Alistair knew about this last escape attempt and even helped plan it,” Samuel replies, remaining calm.

  “That’s insane. Alistair wants my help to escape. Why would he help this other guy, knowing that this could ruin any other escape that comes later?”

  “Well, for one thing, you know about the saying ‘Don’t keep all your eggs in one basket.’ Plus, I’m guessing he’s becoming desperate,” replies Samuel, now looking serious.

  “Why desperate? I don’t understand.”

  “Because the more inmates the facility receives, the closer the station needs to be in proximity to the black hole, and the closer we get, the quicker time passes by from the influence of the black hole. You think you only spent three weeks in medical, but in reality it’s been over two years.” Samuel pauses there to let the relevance of all this sink in. “But this only gets worse. A week here and month there at first, and then near the extreme end, a week here over two years there.”

  I nod in understanding as I contemplate the complexity of the issue. “I see what you’re saying. We need to get out sooner rather than later; otherwise, everyone we know will be long gone.”

  “Exactly, and that’s what makes Alistair more desperate. His wife and daughters are outside, and he’s desperate to get back to them, so all I’m saying is that he’s willing to take a few risks and chances, and he won’t necessarily let you in on all his plans and ideas. You’re just another possible route out.” Samuel looks up as Abs sits down next to me.

  “You must be Samuel,” Abs says as she puts her tray down.

  “I am, and I know who you are. I heard on the grapevine you killed over a dozen freakers on your own. Impressive work,” Samuel replies.

  “Not a dozen but a fair amount. Rumors around here seem to spiral out of control,” Abs replies and then starts to eat.

  “Rumors and stories are really all everyone has. It’s like being a part of your own adventure. All this place is missing is some kind of bogeyman or alien creature chasing down everyone,” Samuel replies as he gets up from the table.

  Abs stops eating and says, “From what I experienced a few weeks back, I would say the facility has one.”

 
; Samuel stares down at Abs and then looks to me. “Have a good meal, you two, and thanks for the chat. We should do it again soon.” Then looking back at Abs again, he smiles one last time and leaves, heading out of the dining hall.

  “There’s something off about that guy,” Abs says, watching Samuel leave.

  “Off, why? Because he’s not listed anywhere, or because he’s finger pointing at Alistair?” I ask.

  “Oh, is he? Well, I’m not sure. Maybe both or neither of them, but he’s holding something back, and I’ve never totally trusted Alistair in any case,” Abs says before taking another mouthful of food.

  “I’m not sure either. Alistair hasn’t done himself any favors, and this place is beyond creepy and wrong. I need to do some serious thinking and digging. If you don’t mind doing some digging of your own, I need some answers regarding who was piloting that pod, and I think Alistair might have them. Sorry I can’t stay, but I need to be elsewhere, so I’ll catch up with you later.”

  “No problem, Sam.”

  Standing, I pick up my tray and take it over to the disposal chute.

  Leaving the dining hall, I head back to the lost and found. Now that I’m listed on the security system again, I’m able to get a route, and when I arrive, the first thing I notice is that the bodies and the mess have been cleaned up, leaving just the tables with the plans of escape still written upon them; all the other paper plans have long since been taken away.

  Taking my time, I go back over the basic plans. Being able to reprogram the maintenance lifting arm and building a modified pod must have taken a lot of technical expertise. I know a lot, but this is technical know-how you don’t just read about in databases; it’s incredibly complex, but something about the plan does not make sense. It’s expert enough to design and build but blind to the fundamental issue of the facility being in the proximity of a black hole’s gravitational effect.

  I’m still pondering upon the puzzle as I walk into the dismantling bay. I notice that the system has been repaired and activated. Standing in the room, I watch for a moment as a dismantled pod is being ejected from the station. This room, like the last, has also been cleared, and any sign of what occurred those few short weeks previous is gone. The room hums with motion as newly arrived pods are lowered into the room as other pods are in various stages of being dismantled.