by E. R. Torre
Nox nodded. Her face remained very pale and the dark rings under her eyes were even more pronounced.
“Where to?” Nox asked.
“It’s been a while since I last visited,” General Spradlin replied. “Many years.”
“What was the occasion?”
“A party. We were…we were having a celebration.”
“For?”
“The end of the war,” he said. “It was a big media event. All the networks covered it. The party was meant to cheer everyone up.”
“Everyone but those who died,” Nox said. “I've changed my mind.”
“About?”
“Sometimes it’s OK to lie to me.”
General Spradlin motioned to the passageway leading to the north end of the mansion.
“Let’s move,” he said.
General Spradlin followed behind Nox. They penetrated deeper and deeper into the mansion. The once grand home was little more than a rat’s nest. Filth littered virtually every corner. Some doors were sealed shut and inaccessible. Closets were loaded with brittle and aged documents. In the foyer, they found water damage from a leak in the roof. In another large room, plaster from the walls crumbled to the floor.
“Are you sure she’s still—” Nox began and stopped.
Despite her weakness, Nox’s head snapped to the right. She clumsily reached for her flare handgun.
“I heard something,” she whispered.
General Spradlin stepped past the Mechanic and moved in the direction of the sound. The two passed a hallway and came to a stop before a large oak door. General Spradlin motioned to the door and Nox nodded. He reached for the doorknob, squared his shoulders, and, at the silent count of three, burst through the door.
What they found beyond the door was a large office. Sitting at an equally large desk was a frail, elderly woman. She held a powerful flashlight in one hand and used it to illuminate a page in a book she was reading. Her reaction to the people who thrust themselves into the room was slow. She calmly put the flashlight down and closed her book before addressing them.
“Hello?” she said.
Despite the toll of time, Nox recognized Jennifer Alberts. Even as she did, she suppressed another surge of homicidal rage. Lemner’s passkey held Jennifer Alberts in almost as much contempt as General Spradlin. Nox lowered her flare gun and leaned against a chair beside the door. She examined the frail woman before her. Jennifer Alberts was no longer the sharp industrialist from the video. Her eyes were milky white and faded. The expression on her face was a near blank.
General Spradlin checked the room for any sign of danger. When he was certain there was none, he approached the woman.
“Hello, Ms. Alberts,” General Spradlin said.
The elderly lady eyed the man before her. She squinted hard and took a moment to think before saying:
“Spradlin? General Paul Spradlin?”
“Yes.”
“Come closer.”
General Spradlin did so, until he stood beside her. Jennifer Alberts’ hands reached up as General Spradlin leaned down. She felt the contours of the General’s cheeks and face. She paused for a second beside the strap of his eye patch.
“You haven’t changed much,” she said. “What happened to your eye?”
“Don’t you remember?” the General said. “I lost it a few years back.”
“How?”
“You know.”
“Yes I do,” she said. “I’d like to hear you tell me about it all the same. Especially since it caused you so much pain.”
The elderly woman let out a chuckle. Her attention switched to Nox.
“Where are my manners,” she said. “Who did you bring with you?”
“Her name is Nox.”
“Should I know her?”
“At one time, I’m sure you did,” General Spradlin said. “She was in the Arabian War.”
The elderly lady leaned forward in her chair.
“Nonsense,” she said. “She’s way too young to be a veteran of—”
Jennifer Alberts abruptly stopped talking. Her lips involuntarily trembled.
“She’s one of them, isn’t she?” the elderly lady said. “I knew you’d come. I knew we didn’t kill all of you. By the Gods…my sins…my sins are catching up to me. I knew…”
Just like that, the elderly woman’s energy was spent. She fell back in her chair, exhausted.
“She’s not here to harm you,” General Spradlin gently told her.
Jennifer Alberts’ eyes were no longer focused. The elderly woman said nothing nor appeared aware of where she was. Presently, her eyes were alive once again. She sat up and addressed her two visitors.
“Hello,” she said. “How nice to have some guests. We get so very few these days.”
A single tear ran down Jennifer Alberts’ cheek.
“Hello, Ms. Alberts,” General Spradlin said. “We came to see—”
“I know no one comes to see me,” Jennifer Alberts said. “Not anymore. The money’s gone and everything is finished. Everything.” Jennifer Alberts couldn’t hide her disappointment. She folded her fragile hands before her sunken chest and said: “You’re here to see her, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“You’re…you’re General Spradlin,” she said.
“Yes.”
“Nothing is ever finished, is it General?” Jennifer Alberts said. “The past is never dead. It comes back to haunt us in small ways and large. Until we’re gone. Until we’re long gone.”
Her eyes closed.
“She’s down in the basement,” the elderly woman said. “You know she doesn’t want to see you.”
“I know,” Spradlin said. “But I have to see her.”
“I can’t stop you. Once upon a time I fooled myself into thinking I could. I fooled myself into thinking I had you under control when it was always –always– the other way around.” She chuckled. “Nothing stops you from getting your way, does it?”
General Spradlin walked back to Nox’s side.
“Let’s go to the basement,” he said.
“Exactly who are we here to see?” Nox asked.
“The first prototype.”
39
They walked to the rear of the mansion and past a useless rusting hulk that was once a modern, elaborate kitchen. The refrigerator’s door didn’t quite close. A rotted stench emanated from within. Nox dragged as they moved along. General Spradlin hovered behind her, prepared to catch her if she fell.
Beside the refrigerator they found a small recess and, within it, a rotted white door.
General Spradlin opened that door. Hinges squealed in protest. There was a scuffed stairway ending at the foot of the door. It disappeared down into a pit of darkness.
Nox let out a soft laugh. It was only slightly louder than a whisper.
“Yet another basement,” Nox said. She suppressed a shiver. “You guys do your best work underground.”
General Spradlin placed Nox’s right arm over his shoulders. Together, the two descended the stairs. They were alert to anything, threatening or otherwise. After a few steps, the darkness enveloped them. Other than the dim light coming from the open door leading into the basement, there was nothing their eyes could adjust to.
They continued nonetheless, down and down and deeper and deeper into the depths below the gloomy mansion before finally reaching the end of the stairs. Once there, General Spradlin felt to his side and along the grainy wall. He pulled Nox’s arm from his shoulder and propped her against that wall.
“Hello?” he called out into the darkness. His hand fumbled around Nox, searching in vain for a light switch. “Are you here?”
The door to the kitchen area so far above them abruptly slammed shut. Nox and General Spradlin were immersed in complete darkness.
Nox felt movement beside her. Someone –or something– rush down the stairs and past her. General Spradlin let out a muffled sound, not quite a word. All was silent.
Nox rem
ained still, unsure of where to go or what to do. She reached for the flare gun in her pant pocket, but did not have the energy to draw it out. She was completely at the mercy of whoever was there with them.
“General?” she whispered. “Are you...?”
The words caught in her throat. There was more movement coming from her right.
“General?” she repeated. “Talk to me.”
Nox held out her arms and waved them around. She took a couple of steps away from the wall. There was even more movement at her side. A female voice, sharp and crystal clear, whispered in her ear.
“You’re here to see me.”
The voice was gone, replaced by laughter.
“Who are you?” Nox said.
There was no answer. The laughter died down.
“I know him,” the female voice said. “Do I know you?”
More movement.
“Do I, General?”
The lights in the basement abruptly came on. For several seconds, Nox was blinded by the glare. She shielded her eyes and blinked several times. When her eyes adjusted to the sudden light, she saw two forms in front of her.
General Spradlin faced Nox. He could not speak. A muscular, hideously scarred hand cupped his mouth. A second hand, this one made of equal parts flesh and metal, wielded a black blade. The blade’s surface was worn with age. It was pressed hard against General Spradlin’s throat. The person holding Spradlin stood directly behind him. Nox tried to get a better look at her. Other than her deformed hands, all she saw was her long and stringy brown hair.
“We’re not here to hurt you,” Nox said, though she wasn’t sure what they were here to do.
“I know he isn’t,” the woman said. “How about you?”
Nox gritted her teeth. The effort to stand was taking her remaining energy.
“W…who are you?” Nox asked.
The woman didn’t immediately answer. Confusion clouded her face.
“Didn’t the General tell you?”
“My experiences with General Spradlin have been…limited,” Nox said. “I’ve found he likes to keep information to himself. Unless, of course, it serves his needs.”
The woman holding the knife to General Spradlin’s throat sniffed the air, as if a lioness catching the scent of prey.
“You’re one of my soldiers, aren’t you?” she asked. “Yes, yes you are.”
“What do you mean ‘your’ soldiers?”
“It was up to me to make sure you were ready for battle.”
“I don’t remember any of that.”
“What do you remember?”
“I remember…”
The pregnant woman with the bullet hole in her forehead lay beside the other bodies. The blood still flowed from the grotesque wound. The girl soldier –Nox– didn’t care. She was more interested in cleaning her weapon.
The same memory, only totally different. The pregnant woman stood among the other villagers. Every one of them were alive and in good health. They were corralled to the center of the village and offered medicines and supplies. They waited to be loaded into transport trucks…
“…I don’t remember all that much.”
Another laugh.
“What are your first memories, dear?”
“Why do you care?”
“Curiosity, if nothing else.”
Nox tried to speak but found it difficult to do so. She took a few steps back. She leaned against the wall and held herself there, barely upright.
“Tired are you?” the woman said. “The memories can wait, I suppose.”
The woman holding the knife pushed General Spradlin away. He fell to the floor before Nox’s feet.
For the first time, the Mechanic had a good look at the woman. She was roughly Nox’s size and had a similar muscular frame. She wore a faded light green shirt and old, worn blue jeans. The metal prosthesis in her hand extended past the elbow joint. The flesh and metal union was grisly, marred by a series of ugly scars. When she looked at Nox, the Mechanic found herself staring into eyes that were shiny silver spheres.
“Which one are you?” the woman asked.
“My name is Nox.”
She thought about that for a few seconds before putting the black blade away.
“I don’t remember you,” the woman said. She walked away. “I can’t remember everyone I trained.”
General Spradlin got to his feet.
“Are you OK?” he asked the Mechanic.
Nox noted drops of blood trickling from a small cut in the General’s throat. The knife the woman wielded nicked his skin.
“I’m doing about as well as you are,” Nox said. “Exactly who the fuck is she?”
Spradlin didn’t say.
General Spradlin helped Nox move to the rear of the basement. There, they found even more darkness. The knife wielding woman disappeared through a doorway. It remained open and led to a subbasement level. There were rows and rows of beds hooked up to computer equipment. Everything within the room was dull and dusty. The woman who drew the blade on General Spradlin stood beside the rails, looking down at the beds below.
“This looks like Oscuro,” Nox said.
“You know about Oscuro?” the woman asked.
“We were just there.”
“Which one?”
“Which?” Nox repeated. “The original one…the one downtown.”
The woman let out a laugh. She waved at the beds.
“This is Oscuro. The first Oscuro. This is where it all began.”
“We need to talk,” General Spradlin said.
“Oh? Would you like to reminisce? Chat about the good old days? Did we ever have any?”
“Now,” General Spradlin insisted.
Despite her weakness, Nox’s patience reached its limits.
“Enough,” Nox said. She addressed General Spradlin. “Who the hell is she and why the hell are we here?”
“My, my, where are your manners, General?” the woman said. “Isn’t it time you told her?”
General Spradlin walked to the rails. He too looked down on the beds below.
“Nox, this is Becky Waters.”
The woman with the silver eyes smiled.
“Welcome home, little sister,” she said.
40
“I have no relatives,” Nox said.
“Your friend thinks too literally,” Becky Waters said.
Nox shook her head. The room was spinning around her.
“Didn’t know I came here for…for English lessons,” Nox said. “The General said you were the first prototype. What did he mean?”
“I’m you, only I’m last year’s model,” Becky Waters said. She spread out her disfigured arms. “That’s the problem with prototypes. They always have so many flaws.”
“By the Gods,” Nox muttered.
“Don’t worry, my loss was your gain,” Becky said. Machinery deep within her metal arms hummed and her silver eyes stared deep into Nox’s. “Version 2.0 was a hell of a lot better than the first.”
The lips on Becky Water’s face curled into something resembling a sour smile.
“You’re wondering what you’re doing here, Nox? I’ll tell you: You’re here because whatever General Spradlin stepped into, it was really fucking deep and he’s running out of alternatives. What is it this time?”
“We’re being pursued,” General Spradlin said.
“By?”
“The rest of the one-time child soldiers,” General Spradlin said.
Becky Waters frowned.
“The rest? Are there any left?”
“The runts of the litter,” General Spradlin said. “The rejects.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t kill them with the others,” Becky Waters said. Her silver eyes turned to Nox. “Sometimes the runts are the ones you most have to watch out for.”
“Were you programmed like us?” Nox asked. “From birth?”
“No,” Becky Waters replied. “I was fully grown when I met General Spradlin. W
e shared many adventures. There’s a thrill to living life on the edge while facing off against your opponents.” She gazed at her flesh and machine arms. “Until one day, things don’t work out so well. That day came for me one warm August night. I was injured. Bad. It didn’t look like there was any hope. General Spradlin wouldn’t hear of it. Instead of letting me die like he should have, he had me fixed up by his very best medics. So much work and so much effort. I was still fading away. Then the good General had a brilliant idea. He gave me a transfusion of his own very unique blood.”
Becky Waters shivered at the thought.
“It felt like my entire body was ripped apart atom by atom,” Becky Waters said. “But I don’t need to describe this to you. You know how it felt.”
“I do.”
“The transfusion kept me alive. Then, after a few months, I actually started getting better.” She pointed to the scars along her arms. “If you can call this better. I think the General always wanted to create an army of people like me, like him, to face the coming menace.”
“You mean Arabia?”
Becky Waters let out a laugh.
“He really hasn’t told you much at all, has he?” Becky said. The smile on her face was ghastly. She walked to the cots. “For the next few years I was mostly a bed-ridden lab rat. My recovery was slow and very painful. I underwent more tests than I can remember and, like all lab rats, faced plenty of trial and error. More errors than trials. Then again, I’m still here. I suppose the General’s work wasn’t a complete failure.”
Becky Waters’ head hung low.
“I hear the voices, General. Lemner’s passkey…a new version of it…was activated. That is why you came, right?”
“Yes.”
“The calls are very strong, the voices are…angrier. Far angrier. The new program shares many of the same elements of the old…but it clearly isn’t.”
“David improved upon his creation,” General Spradlin said.
Becky Waters shook her head.
“Improved?” she spat. “Lemner was a fool. He gave his Frankenstein monster the one thing is should not have: emotions. And this new version appears to have even more of it. You hear it, don’t you Nox?”
“Yes.”
“You already know it wants her to join the other runts,” Becky Waters said. “I’m amazed she hasn’t succumbed.”
