by Kipjo Ewers
“I’m glad the virus was able to do that for you,” Sophia exhaled, “but if I knew my actions on that day was going to result in what is going on in the world today, I definitely would have taken a different route.”
“You don’t like what you’ve created?” Erica looked up at her. “Do you?”
“I didn’t create anything,” Sophia said flatly. “My actions spread a highly aggressive virus that selectively killed a large percentage of the Earth’s population while turning another sizable percentage into superhumans. That is all.”
“Excuse me if I don’t share your views, and not because I won the golden ticket.” She looked down at the floor. “Evolution can be messy, but it’s necessary. Especially in these times we’re living in.”
“So you believe in the ends justify the means,” Sophia half-heartedly smiled.
“I believe that we as a human race needs to move forward,” shrugged Erica. “Thousands of years later, and how advanced are we? We’ve built airlines to crash into buildings murdering thousands of people for a belief system. We invented the Internet and created YouTube to broadcast beheadings and twerking videos. We use Facebook and Twitter to post pictures of us murdering our spouses and to cyberbully those that are different than us to the point of suicide.”
“You forgot about rotting our brains to reality television,” she added.
“We’re quicker to upgrade our iPhones than ourselves and our way of thinking,” Erica concluded. “In every experiment or invention ever created there is a certain form of risk. For us it’s the fact that there will always be evil people who will abuse their powers and abilities. But the trade-off is people like us. Around the globe, as we speak, there are people from all walks of life, race, creed, and color who do use their abilities to do good, inspiring others around them to be better human beings to themselves and each other. When do we stop fantasizing about what we read in a comic book, or watch on a silver screen, and aspire to truly race toward the sun?”
“Out of the mouths of babes.” Sophia smirked with a nod. “Cute reference at the end.”
“I try,” she smiled.
“I have to ask,” Sophia got serious again. “Is the price worth subjecting yourself, to what you saw and went through today?”
Erica smiled looking off into space.
“You saw things that no one should ever see.” Sophia moved closer with concern. “Especially at you age. I don’t see the scale balanced, especially when it comes at the expense of you enduring something like today.”
“I do,” Erica lowered her head keeping her smile, “and yes, when you leave later, and everyone around here turns in to get some sleep. I will sit under a hot scalding shower for about half an hour. I will then put on my PJs and go to my room, which is sound proof. I will lay in my bed and clutch my stuffed rabbit BoBo like my life depended on it, and bawl hysterically until I pass out. Sucks for me, but a small price to pay in order to fight for a better world, that I believe can be achieved.”
Feeling the motherly instinct building within her, Sophia moved in to place a hand on Erica’s back for some form of comfort. She extended her hand keeping Sophia at bay. It violently trembled as Lady Tech kept her bright masking smile.
It was a plea that she was not ready to break yet. Sophia respected her wish.
“How about we take this conversation to my lab Dr. Dennison?” Erica pushed off the guardrail stretching. “We can swap notes, and I can show you some of my R&D.”
“I would like that, Dr. Champion,” Sophia nodded.
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During the five minute walk to their lab the two discussed their findings in regard to the virus over the years. Many of their findings were similar, from the main blast point which was Sophia to whence it traveled outward going global. The strength of the virus became weaker the further it traveled from its point of origin. The closer to the blast point those infected either became stronger or died faster, while those further way had weaker abilities or lingered longer before death.
Sophia chose to withhold two key forms of information that happened that day. One of them was that she was not alone in the heart of the nuclear explosion.
Neither one had yet to diagnose how or why some humans died during the infection, while others gained powers and abilities, and the rest of the world remained pretty much dormant aside from cases of birth.
The two did share two sentiments that they derived during their studies. The virus possessed near sentient properties, and they did not believe it was created in a human lab.
Lady Tech had one theory about its selection process, which she projected via holographic imagery within her lab.
“So you’re saying it has a hive mentality?” Sophia broke down the data floating before her.
“Exactly,” she said. “All living organisms, no matter how big or small, have one two prime directives. Survival and reproduction, we’re like towns or cities that these things chose to set up shop in, and as we all know in society ones needs a military for protection.”
“So regular humans are the worker bees, and we’re the drones,” Sophia concluded.
“Actually you’re the queen bee, and we’re the drones,” Erica corrected.
“Hate being the center of attention,” she sighed, “it still doesn’t explain why some humans obtain abilities, while others have died from this, and why it’s suddenly tapering out.”
“Can I ask how you got your abilities?” Erica asked nervously.
“I acquired the virus from my late husband,” she hesitantly answered. “It was sexually transmitted to me.”
Sophia’s face had liar written all over it. Erica knew it without even reading her mind, which she was incapable of. She decided for the sake of not bring back the tension to press not the issue.
“What can you tell me about Dr. Archifeld Zimmerman and his studies?” Sophia changed the subject.
“Ah, Dr. Zimmerman.” Erica nodded pulling up his file. “He became the fourth lead scientist on Project Evolution in 1971, originally from Germany; his specialty was genetics and cloning. He was at the top of his field in both. Off the record, he is responsible for the creation of the original B.A.Ms and the D.E.A.D project.”
“Him, Arthur Rosen, and my step father,” Sophia sneered.
“The other half of the coin,” Erica sighed, pulling up Rosen’s file. “Author Rosen was the third head director to take over the project and the man who selected Zimmerman. Originally he worked in the private sector of weapons manufacturing, jumping from one company to the next, climbing the ladder like bankers and brokers do on Wall Street. He was the Steve Jobs of innovating military combat today behind the scenes. Our government, presented the project to him, and he grabbed at it. He was also the first none military person to direct the project.”
“When did General Matheson become head of this project?” Sophia asked.
“Around the same time he came up with the concept for the D.E.A.D.” Erica bit her lip.
Sophia wore a face as if she was hit with a punch to the stomach. Very little surprised and shocked her these days, especially when it came to the General, but this bit of information caught her off guard.
“I thought you said Rosen and Zimmerman created the D.E.A.D?”
“They created the D.E.A.D based on the ideology birthed from your step-father. It’s what also earned him his four star General rank.” She exhaled pulling up the General’s file. “As you probably already know, the original concept was to take hardened criminals, namely sociopaths, conditioning and training them to create this country’s own death squad. To give birth to demons in human skin. Impressed with his “forward thinking” he was made head of the Evolution Project to take his concept to the next level. It was also an easy way to test and ensure that the EVO Virus could be made weapons applicable without the scandal of risking the lives of actual soldiers. If you ask me, honestly, your stepfather
was given the position to be more of the fall guy in case this went sideways, which it did.”
“Well I never planned on being the X-Factor,” Sophia snorted.
“Whether it was you or someone else, this wasn’t the type of project anyone with any two cents about their career and reputation would want to be attached to,” Erica returned. “The atrocities the D.E.A.D project are allegedly link to run neck and neck with the Tuskegee experiment. And once it was up and running, it left a trail of blood over several countries, mostly third world nations, to be the third largest act of evil this country has ever done next to the enslavement of African Americans and the Native American Holocaust. Guess why it will never come to full light?”
“Because no one really cares about criminals nor what happens in third world nations,” Sophia sighed.
Her face became a scowl as she glared at the monster she once was related to by marriage. Erica swallowed as a nervous chill ran down her spine. Her confirmation of the bad history between Sophia and the General was dead on accurate.
“How did this all start?” Sophia turned to her. “The virus, everything?”
“Honestly, and off the record,” Erica exhaled while leaning up against one of her stations, “till this day I do not know, and I’ve been searching for the answers. Whatever data was divulged to me on a clearly need to know basis starts after President Harry Truman authorized the secret creation of the Evolution Project.”
“The same time he authorized the Manhattan Project.” Sophia confirmed what Rosen told her seven years ago.
“Yep,” Erica nodded, “President Truman realized before he authorized the strike on Japan the dangerous legacy he had left the world in regard to nuclear weapons. The Evolution project was his atonement for that decision. He knew wars would always be fought; this was a way to develop weapons that delivered the effectiveness of nukes without the catastrophic collateral damage of August 6th and 9th. His final executive order was the continued secret funding of this operation to be hidden from even future presidents until the project was completed. That’s how much he believed this had to be done.”
“Where do you think this all leads?” Sophia bluntly asked.
“I think you know as well as I do,” Erica said. “For a country well known for accidentally divulging secrets, this was one of their best kept until you blew the lid off of it.”
“Not by choice,” Sophia returned.
“Again off the record.” Erica half smirked. “I’ve hacked every government database ignoring the possible threat of treason to find something that tells me the true origin of the virus only to come up with a dead end. Whatever this is, I think the reason they’re hiding it so deeply is because they’re afraid it will scare the crap out of the general public if it was ever to be revealed.”
Sophia nodded in agreement. Believing that Erica honestly divulged everything she could possibly tell her about Project Evolution, she began to walk around her lab marveling at the tech. Erica sat back in pride watching her look to her heart’s content.
“What’s this?” she asked.
Sophia motioned to the large glass cylinder attached to what appeared to be metal caps connected to the floor and ceiling of her lab.
“This is my fabricator.” Lady Tech walked over to where she stood. “Basically I come up with a design, which can be displayed as a 3D holographic projection in the cylinder there. Size it, edit it, and change the style and color. Sign off on it and let the fabrication process do its thing bringing my design to life. I can make anything from machine parts, synthesized chemicals, and our uniforms. Anything.”
A bright smile popped on her face as she looked at Sophia’s ragged battle-worn outfit.
“Say, can I make you an outfit?” she blurted out with nervous excitement.
“Excuse me?” Sophia raised an eyebrow.
“An outfit, for like when you go out,” she beamed. “The material I use is like a billions times more durable than leather or Kevlar, and although the barefoot look is very cute and bohemian, it’s also very Omni-Man 2003. I can modify and style a version of Blitz’s absorption boots to withstand the output of your thrusts giving you coverage and better flight control. Please! Please!”
“Two conditions,” Sophia sighed. “No stupid symbols, and no capes.”
“Okay.” Lady Tech nodded. “What about…”
“No capes and no symbols. Period,” Sophia repeated.
“No problem.” She held up her hands. “Maxine, can we please get a body scan?”
On request, the pink-haired android strolled over.
“Please remain still,” instructed Maxine with a smile. “Commencing body scan.”
Green and red lights blazed from Maxine’s eyes forming a grip over Sophia’s head. It slowly lowered flowing from the top of her head down to her feet.
“Official height is six feet one inch; official BWH measurements are 34D-20-38,” reported Maxine.
Sophia caught Erica’s nod of approval.
“What?” Sophia snapped.
“Nothing!” she smirked. “Just… very impressive. Standard suit, please Maxine.”
The cylinder came to life as beams from the top and bottom of the cylinder constructed a holographic faceless mannequin dummy with Sophia’s height and measurements adorned with a skintight blue bodysuit, and absorption boots with a red and silver color scheme. A closer look at the suit revealed a carbon fiber chainmail pattern to it.
“First of all,” Sophia said, “get rid of the blue. Let’s go with a black and red color scheme.”
“Got it.” Lady Tech nodded. “Maxine.”
“Darker red, like blood red,” she instructed. “And how about a silver pattern on the upper body?”
Erica’s grin grew deeper as a once apathetic Sophia got into the design process.
“Not a fan of restriction, think you can make it a two piece instead of a one?” she asked.
“Like a mid-riff top?” Erica asked.
On command, the mid-section was removed from the design making the outfit a top and pants set.
“Can we add a big hood to the top?” Sophia asked.
“Why a hood?” Lady Tech turned to her.
“I like the style.” Sophia narrowed her eyes while inspecting the design. “Not to mention, people forget things. We forget a man nearly beaten to death by people who are supposed to protect us; gunned down for just pulling out his wallet, or sodomized by a broomstick. A child murdered by a punk just for rocking a hood is not something that should be a passing phase.”
The fabricator added a hood to the design, while giving the boots a blood-red color to match the rest of the outfit. Sophia slowly nodded with approval.
“Maxine, begin fabrication please,” Erica instructed.
“Total fabrication time forty-five minutes,” Maxine calculated.
“Well, that should give you time to get cleaned up,” Erica sighed. “Maxine will escort you to our showers.”
“Should you really have me running around your base like this?” Sophia sneered.
“We have nothing to hide,” Erica shrugged, “and if we did, could we really stop you from prying?”
Sophia nodded in agreement and followed Maxine out of her lab to get cleaned up.
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Minutes later, she was showering in a foreign place for the third time in years. The open gym locker room shower concept felt less uncomfortable than Mountain View or Mount McLoughlin. She realized that it was because she was a prisoner in the last two places.
She washed off the funk of battle and destruction before toweling off. Maxine took her old outfit for incineration. She did not want to bring it back home with her. The less memories she had of what happened in Times Square was better for her.
It would be another ten minutes before her new outfit was finished; Maxine left her a sweatsuit to wear until then.
She walked out into the l
ocker room area to change, only to see Rosann also in a towel sitting hunched over gripping the long steel bench she sat on. She trembled as silent tears ran down her face.
“You okay?” Sophia gently asked.
Rosann sat up wiping her eyes. Sophia casually strolled out not bothering to get dressed.
“Sorry,” sniffled Rosann. “Didn’t know anyone was here.”
“It’s okay.” Sophia sat down. “First time in a real combat situation?”
“I’ll get over it.”
“No, you won’t.” Sophia shook her head.
“Those animals downstairs should be in a shallow ditch,” she said plainly, “not in a cell.”
“Yes they should be,” Sophia nodded.
