by C. S Luis
“Head back to the barracks.” He smiled. “Give that dark blue uniform a rest. That tracksuit looks uncomfortable,” he said. I was used to his humor by now. He grinned, got into his car and was gone.
Back at the Academy, I cleaned up. The potential hunters had their own quarters. The quarters were bigger than the cadets’ rooms and far more private. We had rooms instead of sharing a large space with beds and no walls to separate us.
The dining facility was shared. The mess hall was a large space but only for the few mentor hunters. I was among ten young hunters occupying the quarters. We trained, ate, and interacted like soldiers, but more often than not, we were teenagers. We were young and most cadets acted like it until the head sergeant entered the quarters.
I was back in my room. I got settled in, threw my bag onto my clean, wrinkle-free sheets.
It was a simple room, with a small side table, a bed and work desk. I had a bookshelf with ten books. All gifts from Dr. Nicholson. All various languages. I was a sponge as Dr. Nicholson always said, absorbing all sorts of information. He gave me a book on every birthday.
There was also a closet. It looked like a small lit hallway, with glass drawers that opened. Inside there were uniforms and garments nicely folded. I never knew how they got there, who or what put them there. But they were always neatly folded, always clean and ready to wear.
Unlike in the barracks, I had my own private bathroom. It was as white as the rest of the room, with a toilet and a sink and a single mirror. Beside the sink, was a small shelf with toothbrush and toothpaste. There was no shower, though. They were a shared space, designed in the fashion of a locker room. This facility was state of the art, in comparison to the outside world. Most things in here were not discovered in the real world. Even with that improvement in technology, I would choose the outside world to this place in a heartbeat.
There were no windows. The quarters were underground bunkers, white like the labs. There was little privacy, even when it appeared private. Only the showers were not monitored by security cameras. The door slid closed and sealed at night for our protection, or so we were told. Sometimes, I felt like a prisoner in the only home I’d ever known. The missions gave me some freedom, and I liked it that way. Was I the only one who enjoyed the feel of freedom, of independence?
I cleaned up, showered, and returned to the in-house uniform I was accustomed to wearing; a dark navy top, long pants. The stripes on the side and lower part of our shoulders indicated a special skill. Hunters carried a variety of markers, all with different skills.
I joined the other hunters in the dining facility after cleaning up, I got in line and took my meal from the attendant who was a robotic synthetic. There were a few robots throughout the quarters that handled different tasks. They all looked like real humans except for the clear view of the top portion of their heads. Through the clear panel, the electrical circuits and currents running were displayed a lovely, glowing sparkle of blue colors. I had been fooled before.
I took a seat, among my peers. Whenever I returned from a long job, I was received by my peers with praises and admiration. It was a display repeated whenever one of us completed any task. It was no different now as others spoke of their missions, comparing notes and trying to outdo one another with a better tale. I usually just listened to the conversation, not actively participating.
We discussed what we had come across. Older soldiers always monitored and patrolled the surrounding edges of the chow hall walking from side to side or standing nearby. They usually wore black with red patches at the shoulder.
The others told the same stories I had heard on multiple occasions. Descriptions of their captures, the discovery of an oddity- which we called the OD product. The cadets in the lower ranks referred to them as mutants. Typically, they were people with a strange ability to create fire or ice, or people that could shift their forms. The most important were the Mindbenders, though. Joseph and I had been the first to uncover a Minder in more years than the Company would like to admit. That had given us almost celebrity status.
After eating and listening to the others describe their experiences, I headed to the training facility. I trained a lot, it was required. The training facility had every exercise machine known to man and even some unknown. The large room was nearly empty this evening.
In my line of work, I had to have a very strict and disciplined workout routine, at least five days a week. It consisted of compound, explosive exercises, power cleanse jump squats, high pulls, and explosive bench presses. These exercises helped to maintain my speed and agility. Others included squats, deadlifts, and military presses. My workout also involved fat burning cardio in running each day. All hunters were raised this way. Meals were designed to contain quality proteins, carbs, and healthy fats to help us pack on a lot of muscle mass. We were like well-bred horses, to put it nicely.
Once my routine was done and I’d had another shower, I settled in my clean white room with a medical book. A book on the Russian language sat on the small table next to my bed. I sat on the bed, dressed down in a pair of grey boxers with a towel draped over my shoulder. I took a breath trying to relax my body to get into a state of mind that would bring the rest of me to peace. I needed to catch up with my mind; it was a technique we were trained to do- meditation.
Hello?
It’s you…
Where are you?
Who are you? Why do you keep coming into my mind?
I don’t know but, she said. Why is it so white there? Where are you?
You can see me? I asked
Yes…just where you are? You’re in this white room. She went quiet.
Hello? Please, don’t go! Who are you?
I opened my eyes wide and exhaled hard. Looking around. I caught sight of the camera in the corner of the room and tried to remain calm. Who was that girl who kept breaking into my thoughts? Why did I feel the need to be close to her? Something connected us. This hadn’t been the first time…each time it happened I wanted to find her. This had been happening for the last five years and each time it got deeper and closer.
“Hunter Slater your vitals are slightly elevated, your heart has increased to an alarming level. Do you require medical attention?”
Becky was a humanoid virtual reality entity, that appeared as either a voice from the globe at the center of the room blinking, or as a hologram. Very rarely she would appear in physical form as a robotic synthetic. She often assisted Dr. Nicholson with his medical examinations in the lab. I found out all the synthetic bots were fashioned after the female half of the species.
“I’m fine. I just had a bad dream,” I told her.
“I will note these occurrences…”
“No, you don’t have to; I’m fine!”
“You’re sounding slightly agitated. I have released a sleeping agent to help you relax and help you sleep. I will notify and report these observations to Dr. Nicholson…”
No wait, I wanted to say, but the sleeping aid had already been administered into the air. “Shit!” I muttered as I passed out.
8
The Assignment
I awoke feeling groggy, I glanced over at the clock, the time couldn’t be right. I sat up, Joseph was standing by the doorway, he was chewing on an apple. He smiled. He seemed so patient and so calm. I think he was laughing.
“How are you feeling champ?” I leaped out of bed and dressed. “Relax,” I thought I heard him say as he chewed. Joseph didn’t move he was just standing there. I stopped and just glanced at him, but he kept on chewing his apple. I wanted him to say something, anything else. Instead, I rushed out through the hunter quarters, the other cadets just glanced over at me. Some were smirking, others were just shaking their heads as I took a vehicle toward the tarmac. The officers by the private plane wouldn’t let me on.
“You haven’t had clearance,” they said.
“What do you mean? I have an assignment. I need to get on that plane.”
“Not this one, sir. H
aven’t got clearance to allow anyone on board.”
I pushed my way from them and rushed towards the tarmac. I was already running late.
“Hey you need clearance!”
My interactions with Becky had caused my delay. Becky reported soldiers’ conditions to those at sickbay. No hunter was allowed clearance until after a quick medical evaluation. I didn’t have time for that.
I dropped on the seat inside the plane. I would have no choice but to return and get a medical evaluation, and it would delay things. Dr. Nicholson would not be pleased. My phone buzzed. I picked it up Joseph’s voice filled the cabinet of the plane interior.
“Your clear to go…” Joseph said. How had he convinced Dr. Nicholson to release me?
“I guess I shouldn’t have raised my voice to Becky,” I said sitting in the luxury white seats of the private plane.
“You think?” Joseph mocked. “I personally think she has a mean streak.” Joseph chuckled. “I think Dr. Nicholson created her specially to torture the soldiers since there’s nothing but male cadets in the facility.”
“Seriously?” I asked.
“Maybe Becky is his secret desires to have a daughter.” He laughed.
“Aside from the jokes, you’re cleared. I’ll see you there.” Joseph would arrive later and would transfer to the settled location. Joseph mostly handled the background of where we needed to play the part of someone else.
I proceeded to Houston, Texas. It was a two-and-a-half-hour flight from the Academy by private jet, which was far quicker than any commercial flight. The plane landed without a hitch. I had no bags, so I continued into the parking lot where a black SUV with two men in black suits awaited me. They were a pickup service setup by The Company.
It was a long drive from the airport to the main location where I took refuge in the rental house on the upper side of the Heights, a quiet neighborhood filled with lawyers and doctors. It was a nice area with culture where the houses were valued well into the hundreds of thousands.
Dr. Nicholson had secured a two-story old Victorian house valued at half a million dollars. It was a safe house often used by the other ADA agents when on assignment. I was to report there, retrieve my assignment, and settle in.
I was left on the side of the street by the men after they handed me an envelope.
I would explore the home at my leisure. It was a very beautiful, two-story large white Victorian house with an old antique white fence surrounding it. The house was empty this evening, but it wouldn’t be for long. Agents came at different hours, but not too many at a time, so as not to arouse suspicion. Tonight, it would be me, and tomorrow it would be another.
It was late when I climbed up the porch steps, the porch light, as always with these safe houses, was lit. I used the tiny key I found inside the envelope. It opened the large metal box, which inside revealed a computer panel that requested an entry code and iris recognition scanner.
I entered, hearing my steps on the hard, wooden floor echo throughout the stunning interior. The entrance was welcoming with a beautiful large mirror on mustard walls, decorated in crown molding. A vase with decorative plants sat upon a lovely mahogany table.
The kitchen was modern and seemed freshly renovated, and the living room was full of white leather, mahogany tables, decorative plants and vases, and even a grand piano at the far end. The large windows were covered in white flowing curtains that draped down upon the shiny clean wooden floors. The second-floor stairs were just a few steps away from the entrance, leading up into a twisted staircase above where a beautiful chandelier hung like crystal daggers.
The wood in the house was beautifully polished. The entire place was empty, yet well-kept. The place looked frozen in time. Details still appeared to have been part of the house when it was freshly built, and yet there were parts added for modern times, like the kitchen. The appliances were all stainless steel, with an added island in the center. Pots and pans hung from above the centerpiece, with a bowl of seemingly-real décor fruit sitting on the counter.
Dropping the plastic apple back into the bowl, I made my way up to the second floor and entered the hall; the floors on the second floor were, lovely with decorative hardwood. The walls were a pastel green, and there were framed photographs of boats used to decorate the long-extended hall. Pictures displayed: fishing boats, old boats, abandoned boats, and even World War II military boats.
The house had five bedrooms; I headed to the one at the end. Upon opening the door, I found myself in a large bedroom. White curtains draped the window, and there was a large bed at the far end, decorated in satin red sheets and encompassed by mahogany bedposts. A stain brown cherry desk sat next to the bed.
On the desk, sat a black leather briefcase, inside was a laptop, with the screen lit and ready to use.
There was nothing much in the room. A few antique rugs under the bed covered the beautiful glossy floors. There were two doors one leading to the closet and the other leading to the bathroom. On the walls, there were a few framed photographs like the ones on the hallway walls, but these were of men in uniform. Nazi uniforms. Whose sick idea for decoration was this?
I came over to the desk and peered at the briefcase, and at the computer screen. The words ADA scrawled in an access window sat facing me as I sat down on the black cushion seat in front of the desk.
After logging in, another screen appeared, and the face of Dr. Nicholson on video chat popped open. On the side of the screen, a few files appeared. Joseph had briefed me about a sighting of a possible alien product.
“I see you have arrived well,” Dr. Nicholson began.
“Ready and alert, sir.”
“I’m to assume Joseph has briefed you on the importance of this assignment?” Dr. Nicholson asked. His face was a flawless peaches-and-cream- smooth, pale and slightly pink. His eyes were a clear pastel blue, light like the white of his suit.
“Yes, sir.” I placed my hands on the table and sat still, awaiting his command. When he didn’t speak, I continued: “Joseph has informed me of the possibility of an alien product discovery.”
“Correct. We detected a possible sighting of the ADA escapee, but are unable to confirm its exact whereabouts at the present time.”
A file opened alongside the image of Dr. Nicholson. The image was a school by the name Milton High. I speed-read the small bio beneath, well aware Dr. Nicholson would give me further information regarding our escapee, if required.
“It moves quickly, the devices confirmed its last sighting before they were no longer responsive. Which means, whatever or whomever destroyed the metal insect indicators knows what they are. As you are aware the devices can only be destroyed by a powerful force. Even if human steps were capable of crushing the metal insect, its capability to reconstruct its body to its original form makes it an effective instrument,” he informed me. “The only intel we’ve received is the sighting at this local school.” Another image appeared. “This is the principal of Milton High, Dr. Neil Edwards,” Dr. Nicholson said, “as of yesterday, he is deceased, victim of a heart attack according to the authorities. A man by the name Michael McClellan has been temporarily appointed by the School District as his substitute. They were good friends.”
A few other files appeared alongside Neil Edwards, the file of Michael McClellan, the file of J. Claypool, the file of R. Vasquez, the file of Alice Wallace, all pictured in their school photographs. Two additional files of the security detail the school offered appeared. They looked like normal people, employees at the school. “This is the staff,” Dr. Nicholson informed. “Study them. Learn everything about them.”
“Yes, sir…”
“You will assume the identity of a student named Christian Müller.”
Christian, I thought, that familiar name again of another cadet.
“Joseph will accompany you on this mission.” Hadn’t he always? I thought, but I felt he meant something entirely different.
“Sir, Joseph? Does he have a role? I don’t nec
essarily need a guardian for a school walkthrough,” I interrupted. It was the first time I had done so in a long time. It seemed to irritate Dr. Nicholson. I could tell by the grimace on his face.
“Joseph has a role…not only as your guardian but as Dr. Neil Edwards’ permanent replacement. You will accompany him. He will presume the name of Dr. Joseph Müller. He is your uncle.”
“Uncle?” I repeated surprised by my voice.
“This advantage will allow you access to office personnel as well as inner going-ons within the school environment. Joseph is your cover; the rest is up to you.”
That made far more sense I thought. I wasn’t there to assist him, he was there to assist me as my cover. He would be my excuse among the personnel. I would cover the student body and Joseph would cover the faculty as acting principal.
“All the documents that you will require are in the yellow envelope inside the desk’s top drawer.”
I opened the drawer and the envelope was there where he said it was. Inside were all the documents- driver’s license, birth certificate and social identifications- needed to become Christian Müller.
The hard part of getting registered for school had been taken care of by The Company.
“Joseph has received his assignment details, I want you to accompany him when he introduces himself to the staff. Get a feel of the place and the school administrators. Make a good impression.” I must have given him an unsettling look because he followed up with: “Is there a part of your assignment that confuses you, John?”
“Make a good impression on who, sir?” I asked.
He smiled, but didn’t answer my question. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting him to.
