by KT Belt
“Has she given you any trouble?”
“No, she’s been pretty compliant so far.”
“You still put binders on her, though,” the woman pointed out.
The man nodded. “No reason to take my chances, not that it would really matter. These were the highest resistance binders I could find. If the tests were right, she could probably bust them any time she wanted to.”
Carmen took a moment to study her handcuffs when she heard that. She wished she could take them off. When she looked up, the woman was staring down at her with an expression that was as worried as it was accusing. At that, Carmen put her fermenting plan to bed and resigned herself to continue walking.
“So, how strong do you think she actually is? Ten percenter? Seven?”
“Don’t know, but that’s what we’re going to find out.”
“Hmm. You hear about 111720?”
“Yeah,” he said without missing a beat. “Completely off the scale.” He paused before speaking again and took a moment to glance at Carmen. “For some reason, these third-generation genetic-massaged kids are a great deal stronger than the gen twos. Earth reported a couple of days ago that they have a really strong one. He’s a couple years older than 111720 and 111724, though.”
The woman nodded. “Nobody even knows how any of this energy projection stuff works. Maybe the guys in the lab just stumbled upon something. Maybe I need an upgrade.”
“We’re both too old for that.”
“I know. Just saying.” The man nodded, and the woman continued. “Anyway, everyone is taking bets on how 720 and 724 compare.”
She watched Carmen closely for a few seconds, and the girl returned her interest hesitantly. Even when the conversation was about her, she still had no idea what they were talking about. Now she felt like a vegetable in a grocery store. She hated this place.
“My money’s on 720, definitely,” the woman concluded.
“I don’t know,” the man replied. “It can go either way. Stuff like that is hard to guess.”
“Right,” she said. “But tell me how it goes. I have to get back to work.”
“Okay, I’ll see you later.”
The two coworkers gave each other a parting nod, and then the woman left. Carmen didn’t say anything. She wondered who 111720 was. What most drew her curiosity, though, was why everyone else was curious about them. What made them so different or interesting? And why was everyone so interested in comparing them? What was the point? As always, she also wondered when she would be allowed to go home. She had done everything they asked.
Her handler gave her no clues as to what her fate would be. He just led her, completely and utterly stone faced. Carmen wished she were back in bed, all things considered. Even restrained, it was more comfortable to lie there than walk here in these blasted handcuffs. All of a sudden, her handler stopped at a closed door. He opened it, and the two entered.
The room was much like the one she had died in: large with padded walls, no windows, and a tile floor. The small door on the opposite wall was the only real difference. The room was completely empty. Carmen nervously looked at her new handler. She didn’t think he had a gun on him, but there was no way for her to be sure. He glanced down at her, and she backed away. There was no place for her to escape to in here. As he reached into his suit much like Janus had, her breath caught in her throat. But instead of a gun, he held a key in his hand.
“Stay here,” he said as he removed her handcuffs.
She grew lightheaded again, but the feeling passed faster than before. She sighed contently. It had caused her more trouble in her life than it was worth, and she had only gone a few minutes without it; nevertheless, she had missed what made her her. She had ached for it in the same way she would her sight if the lights were shut off. Carmen closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She could feel practically every air molecule rushing into her nose. She was also well aware of the moment her handler left the room, despite that her eyes were still closed and he didn’t say a word in parting. Carmen smiled. She guessed, in a way, she was special after all.
When she opened her eyes, she studied the room one more time. She still couldn’t figure out why, exactly, she was here. Perhaps every room was like this? If it wasn’t for the small door on the opposite wall, she’d be hard-pressed to say she was in a different room than before. Yet, though the room was empty, she wasn’t exactly alone. She didn’t know who or even what it was; she just knew, and her best guess was that it was behind that small door.
She moved toward the door but got no further information as she did. She just knew there was something alive behind it. There was no handle or anything to open the door. There was, however, an obvious hinge, so it seemed like it could be opened. Carmen bent down and gave it a soft knock. The only response was the dull sound of her knuckle on the metal. She groaned softly. Maybe they’d stuck her in here to see how she handled boredom. She walked to the far corner of the room, sat down, and made herself comfortable. It wasn’t like there was anything else to do.
The mood in the control room had never been this tense. First there was 111720, and now there was 111724. The odds of there being not one but two inductees at their level, and of them both being here, were astronomical. Just as long as 111724’s prescreening was correct. It was rare when it was not, but there were errors from time to time. Whether 111724 knew that she could break out of the room any time she wanted was an ongoing debate. 111720 had almost succeeded in that. Everyone watched the beast on their display monitors as she sat in a corner of the room and did nothing.
“I don’t think she’s as powerful as her chart says. She’s too docile.”
Janus looked at the technician and nodded. It was certainly possible. “I don’t know, though,” he said. “The strongest ones are usually the most finicky.” He stared at her in the display monitor for a long while before he spoke again. “There’s just something about her that’s hard to place.”
“She’s definitely a type three, if anything,” the technician said before he looked at Janus. “Maybe you can get her leaning type two?”
“That would be the best combination,” Janus agreed. “720 is type two leaning type one.” He sighed tiredly and turned to a different technician. “Are we ready?”
“Almost. It will just take a minute to complete the calibration.”
“And 724?” Janus asked.
“According to the biomed sensors, she is calm enough to give us an accurate read.”
“Good,” Janus said. “Send it in as soon as you’re ready.”
Carmen soon lost track of how long she’d been in the room. She honestly didn’t care; it didn’t make any difference. She would stay here until someone let her out. How long that would take was completely out of her control. With that in mind, she started doubting her father would ever come for her. If he or her mother were going to rescue her, they would have done so by now. There were only two explanations she could see. Either her parents couldn’t come for her, or her parents didn’t want to come for her. She had a hard time figuring out whether it was one or the other.
She closed her eyes and then lay flat on her back. Again, she wondered what these people wanted with her. They shot her and then gave her a lollipop, and now they’d stuck her in an empty room with nothing to do. She just wanted to go home. Why wouldn’t they let her leave?
Just then, there was a sharp pinprick in her consciousness. Although the sensation was rare, she had felt it before. Usually it meant something had changed and quickly, if not violently. She opened her eyes. Nothing appeared to be different. The room was still just as boring and dull as before, and the small door was still closed…. But whatever was behind the door was more…well, more. It was hard for Carmen to place her finger on.
Whatever was behind that door, for whatever reason, was now more energetic, more vibrant, than it had been a minute ago. The thing had an aggressive, albeit simplistic energy. It came in waves, building upon itself before dying off only to
build again to an even greater level. It, however, was also unfocused in its intent. It was raw, uncontained aggression and nothing else. She bolted to her feet a second or two before the door began to open.
Began was the operative term—the door opened at a glacier’s pace, despite its small size. Carmen glanced at the main entrance behind her. She didn’t think anybody would be coming to retrieve her any time soon. She didn’t know how she knew; she just knew she would be stuck here for possibly a very long time.
When she looked back at the small door, it was fully open. She couldn’t see inside; it had simply opened to a black void. She dropped to her knees to get a better look but still couldn’t see anything. It was pitch black nothingness. That thing was still in there, but she couldn’t see it, whatever it was. Its energy remained ever growing and aggressive. All was silent, but her nerves were shot just the same. Then a shriek reverberated out of the void.
No terran she had ever met could make that sound. It was both ear-splittingly loud and high pitched. Her hair stood on end and her heart rate doubled. The shriek came again, and Carmen backed as far away from it as she could. The third shriek sounded quite a bit closer than the first two, and then she saw it—the creature.
The animal was like none Carmen had ever seen or heard of. It was four legged and came to about her waist in height. From head to tail, however, it was more than twice her size. Its scales alternated between dull yellow and green in blurrily defined tiger stripes. The head was crowned with a brightly colored frill that waved back and forth as the animal breathed. Its beak was armed with tiny though numerous teeth that could undoubtedly cause a good deal of damage.
She watched the creature, unable to move a muscle. It, however, moved quickly, although awkwardly, despite its size. It had almost shot into the room, but now it buzzed from one side to the other after first pausing to check its surroundings. It stopped and looked at Carmen before it hissed, the ever-growing aggressive energy she had felt before aimed right at her. The sensation felt as if the ceiling had fallen on her, and she staggered and dropped to her knees. She couldn’t say it was painful—not exactly. It was more uncomfortable than painful, like being covered in mosquito bites. The pressure, however, made her groan. She fought against it, yet it continued changing, adapting against her. She closed her eyes and groaned again. Just thinking was a struggle. It was even getting hard to breathe.
She only barely registered that the animal was moving closer to her until she heard a shriek right beside to her. Carmen looked to her left and was greeted by the wall. When she looked up, the horrible thing was staring back at her. It shrieked; she screamed and then managed to dash out of the way before its beak could clamp down on her shoulder. There was no place to go. All she could do was run to the other side of the room. The pressure in her mind only grew worse when she stopped. She screamed through gritted teeth and couldn’t help but fall to her knees again. The animal only glared at her as it gave an annoyed hiss. Then it ran along the wall toward her, its claws leaving finger-sized puncture wounds in the padded material.
Carmen tried to watch from her rather pathetic position. Conscious thought had left her long ago. She was too besieged to think and so scared that it wouldn’t have made much difference anyway. She ran to the other side of the room, slipping and sliding on the tile floor the entire way, when the animal got within striking distance again. It jumped off the wall and scampered after her. When Carmen turned, it was right in front of her. She was cornered. Her breath could barely keep up with the machine gun beating of her heart.
The animal gave an angry hiss and stalked closer. It analyzed her every move—every quivering muscle. When she tried to run past, its strike was total perfection. Carmen let out a pained wail as its teeth tore into her.
“Got a big spike on that one,” the technician said.
“How high?” Janus asked.
The technician took a moment to study his instruments. His eyes grew wide. “That…that can’t be right,” he muttered to himself. He glanced at Janus. The Clairvoyant stared down at him expectantly. “There’s something wrong with my equipment,” he said softly.
“Excuse me?”
“There is something wrong with my equipment,” the technician said with more confidence. “Calibration check!” he yelled out.
“Calibration check!” came the reply from elsewhere in the room.
The creature had Carmen pinned to the ground, clawing and snapping at her at every opportunity. Her gown was a bloody rag by this point, and she had no real idea of what was going on. There was just the bloody beak coming for her yet again. This time, it clamped down on her arm as it rose to defend herself. Despite that her arm wasn’t its target, the creature appeared to be satisfied anyway, and as it shook its head from side to side, Carmen’s fingers went numb. She screamed and punched it in the eye as hard as she could. Her other hand went numb on impact as the animal gave a pained cry before backing off of her and scampering a few steps away. Carmen stood hesitantly.
She hadn’t thought she’d be able to actually hurt the thing. Now that she had, it lit a fire in her that put stars to shame. What pain she felt fell away as she focused on her opponent. She wanted to hurt it—badly, in fact. She wanted to make it feel every ache she felt. She wanted it to suffer for her being brought here, locked up in this room with this thing. Most important, she wanted it to pay for her inability to go home. But no, she knew she shouldn’t.
The creature recovered and approach her again, more cautiously than before.
Janus watched the display monitor along with everyone else. Only his eyebrow rose, however, at what he thought he saw. 111724 would be an interesting one.
“Check complete,” one of the technicians announced. “Your readings are correct.”
“That’s just not possible,” the first technician muttered to himself. “It’s just not—”
“Yet it is,” Janus interrupted, ending the argument. Everyone was silent as he stared at the monitor. “I think we’ve given her enough for one day.”
Then he left the room.
The animal circled Carmen slowly. It snapped at her when the opportunity presented itself, but she was usually able to avoid the attack. The eye she had hit swelled over, leaving the creature blind out of it. Carmen didn’t have much interesting in fighting back, though. Her left arm was a bloody mess, and her right hand was numb to the point of utter uselessness. In fact, she couldn’t even move her right hand.
She was snapped at again halfheartedly, but she kept up her defense. The animal tried to dash behind her, and Carmen was ready. She easily dodged out of the way before its jaws could clamp shut. Then, it stood still for a moment and looked at something behind her. She paused too, not exactly sure of what to do. Whatever had been assaulting her consciousness earlier had lessened dramatically after she struck the animal, and she didn’t even notice it now. She still, however, couldn’t tell what had just entered the room. Carmen couldn’t read it, other than to know she and her new pet were no longer alone. She didn’t want to chance a backward glance to check.
“Carmen, move out of the way,” a voice said softly. She recognized it as Janus’s almost instantly, and a quick look confirmed it. “Carmen, move for me, please.”
She did as he asked with no more hesitation. Then she waited as Janus casually stepped forward, stopping between her and the animal. It looked at the man and gave a defiant shriek in response. Janus looked down on it, decidedly unimpressed, and even took a moment to sneer. Seconds later, an unseen force lifted the creature into the air. Its next shriek took on a panicked edge as it struggled against whatever was holding it. A painful cry filled the air as the animal’s neck was slowly crushed before the sound choked off to nothing. It fell to the ground, dead.
Carmen could only stare. Janus turned to face her, and her gaze shifted to stare at him. She still breathed hard, and she hurt all over. She half wondered if he was going to shoot her again, but in the end, she didn’t care. She was so hap
py someone had finally come to rescue her from the monster that she didn’t care that it was Janus. She ran to him and hugged his leg, crying desperately. All she wanted was to go home. That was it—she just wanted to go home and escape this horror of a place. Why couldn’t anybody understand that? Her crying, however, choked her voice every time she tried to speak.
“Now, now,” Janus said softly. “It’s okay. It’s all okay now. You’re safe.”
Carmen made no response. Janus gently pried her off his leg before he picked her up and held her close. She had stopped crying by this point, but she stiffened when he touched her. The feeling lasted for only a moment before she allowed herself to be comforted. She missed how her father had used to pick her up in much the same way. After closing her eyes, she tried to imagine that Janus was him.
“Come on, let’s clean you up,” he said.
He then walked out of the room with Carmen still in his arms. They didn’t say anything to each other. It was only minutes before her blood soaked his shirt and pants, never mind the trail left in their wake. If Janus cared about any of that, he didn’t let her know. Carmen didn’t care much, either. Frankly, she didn’t even notice, as her eyes were blissfully closed the entire trip. It was with some disappointment that they arrived in the medical wing in only a few short minutes.
He placed her in an empty bed, not bothering with the restrains. Instead, he sat next to her and, from time to time, spoke mild words of comfort. A doctor arrived in short order.
“Shattered,” he said when his examination reached her right hand.
Janus nodded. “It’s important that you learn to cushion your blows, 111724. We all remember our first shattered hand or foot.”
Carmen noticed he no longer referred to her by her real name. She also realized her injuries were similar to those of the girl she had seen earlier. She wasn’t here now.
