The Aviator Awakening

Agent Nerzogk made a point of being present more often lately. His bulky leather body leaned against the wall beside the simulator, arms folded, gem-bands hidden by his jacket, and golden eyes locked onto me. I made a show of attempting my cybernetic training and failing, which had become my routine. I normally did this for a few minutes before moving on to my more interesting training.

His unamused gaze told me he didn’t buy it.

I shivered and glared at my handler, his jacket, and then at my breath cloud lingering in the chilled air. I hated this platform. Hated the fact that I had to put on this farce at all. And, most of all, I hated that I cared enough about Agent Nerzogk’s opinion to feel pressured to lean more heavily into these pretend attempts.

When I judged enough time had passed, I stepped off the platform. The panels shut down with my exit, and I happily made my way to the simulator, gaining distance from the platform’s concentrated chill.

Agent Nerzogk made a surprising move. His jade leathered bulk peeled away from where he’d been lounging, coming to stand between me and my destination.

“You should put more effort into it,” he warned while blocking my path.

I said nothing and pivoted around his reptilian frame.

He stepped in front of me again, blocking my detour.

“You’re running out of time.” His caution made me pause. He was right. General Larkkon would return soon to check on my progress.

“I’m trying,” I shrugged, attempting to slip past him again. He grabbed my jumpsuit collar. A gutsy move, considering he’d been watching me in the simulator and must know I could take him on.

“Let go,” I whispered.

“Or what?” he challenged. He let go after repositioning himself to block my path again.

I watched him and gauged my options to get around his bulk.

“I’m better at the simulator,” I offered to appease him.

He shook his jade-armored head. “You might resent being here, Aviator, but it’s better than the alternative. You are expected to make progress in both sections of training.”

“You know, Agent Nerzogk, it almost sounds like you care.”

He answered my tease by stepping aside. I hesitated, then continued to the simulator, selecting one of my favorite settings. A forest program. His warning haunted me. I made sure the settings were amped up to skip the introductory levels, eager to forget about it all, and stepped past the beaded-air membrane.

Nerzogk’s cold gaze pricked at the back of my neck. I found my position on the rippling floor’s center. The system flickered on, plunging everything into darkness. I knew he was still out there, watching. A forest came to life around me, the air crisp, the sound of trilling wildlife chasing away the reality of white-walled monotony beyond these frames. I waited for the simulator’s assassins to appear and offer me a distraction, refusing to admit I did fear what might happen once the General returned.

I channeled my frustration into propulsion through the simulator’s foliage. Unlike my cybernetic training, I was making steady progress here. The slight difference in weight, in gravity, no longer bothered me. I slowed my breath, finetuning my focus. The balance it brought was exhilarating. My mind quieted. The program’s cloaked figures dropped one by one as I passed them. When I got into stride, I hardly felt myself moving.

I couldn’t get enough of the simulator, of the peace of mind brought by its precision and simplicity. I belonged here. Where my mind was quiet, and everything made sense. These frames gave me a small taste of my identity, the core of who I was outside of all the questions and confusion. Physically, I knew I could not escape the Empire’s grip, not while in this pseudo-prison. Mentally, however, I was free while in this alternate world.

My exhaustion was my only measure of time, and I was beginning to push the boundaries of the simulator and my body. The opponents swarmed in greater numbers. I could handle four or five fairly easily. But I was starting to reach the more difficult limits. Wiry black cloaks outnumbered the trees in the forest around me. I resorted to dodging, knowing the end was near.

I got cornered against a large tree. Two of the opponents synchronized their attack as several others blocked my exit. A sickening crunch, like a snapping branch, came from my right arm, which took the brunt of defense.

The assassin’s hit landed severely enough to alert the medical bot, triggering an automatic exit. The simulation fizzled away, turning the world inside the frames black. I fell back into a shallow lake of nanobots as the program’s tree dissolved behind me. The training room flickered into focus, and the room’s medical bot greeted me.

I stood, preparing to follow it to the med bay, which was also becoming a common routine of mine. Once I turned around, however, I met eyes with General Larkkon. I froze. Agent Nerzogk’s warning echoed in my mind. I swallowed my fear and stepped out of the frame to greet him.

“Hello, General.” I forced an optimistic smile.

“Hello, Aviator.” He looked at the arm I cradled. “I understand you’ve been putting a lot of time into the simulator. The results are promising.”

He turned to walk with me to the med bay. “I also understand you haven’t shown much interest in your cybernetic training.”

His heavy steps were slow. I cautiously met his pace. I hated that Agent Nerzogk’s words had gotten to me. I shouldn’t have to do any of this. What did I owe these people? Nothing.

“I don’t have the same knack for cybernetic training as I do with the simulator,” I explained absently. “And, as you said, I’m getting results in combat training.” Then I shut up because I didn’t know why I needed to defend myself at all. I was doing what they wanted, more or less. And really, wasn’t that more than they deserved?

“Aviator,” the General stopped at the med bay. The system’s bed emerged and waited, insulated with the same rubbery coating used in the doctor’s lab to keep my electrical ability isolated. Agent Nerzogk approached as well to assist. It was beginning to feel a bit crowded. “You haven’t made any progress at all on the cybernetic training. You aren’t trying.”

Agent Nerzogk avoided eye contact.

My heart’s pounding increased. I steadied my breath. “I’m putting effort into combat training. Isn’t that enough?” My voice wavered, coming across weaker than I intended.

“No,” General Larkkon sighed. “I wish it were, but it’s not enough.”

I checked for exits, an instinctive habit without purpose in this customized prison. The entrance frame across the room flashed green. I didn’t need to look to see who it was. Doctor Lsar always knew how to make an entrance.

“Hello, gentlemen,” Doctor Lsar greeted. The armored crimson scales on her scalp shimmered with each step, and she looked at me with her usual detached appraisal. “I guess we should fix that arm before we get started.”

I’d forgotten about my injury. The skin on my oddly angled arm wasn’t broken, but the swelling had started. It seemed insignificant at the moment.

“I thought her lab tests were finished,” I protested.

General Larkkon didn’t respond. I tensed, ready for a fight. Nerzogk sensed it and took a step closer, poised to intercept. Profanities filled my mind and lingered on my breath, but none of them in the rocky language they used here, so I remained quiet.

Doctor Lsar drew closer and shook her head. “I have endless intrigue when it comes to you, Aviator. No matter what I try, I can’t replicate your success.” She frowned. “It was General Larkkon who ended the tests. He insisted we could learn more from your training than from the lab. However,” her crimson-lipped frown returned to neutral, “it seems you’ve reached a developmental block. I’ve received clearance to investigate what might be causing that.”

The tension between the four of us increased with the weight of her words. All three of them wore the implant’s thumb remote. A warning shock spiked down my spine. It was unclear which one of them initiated it.

I ran through my options. There wasn’t a scenario where resistance would benefit me. If I fought back, I’d lose the progress I’d gained so far. If I wanted to get out of this room, they had to eventually accept me as one of them.

“Give me a few more days,” I offered.

General Larkkon looked to Doctor Lsar.

“No,” she insisted.

We stood at a standstill. I hardly dared to breathe from the intensity of their caution. My implant continued to hum, ready to unleash another lightning bolt. All the other security measures were formidable, but not absolute. This implant, however—I had no way to circumvent it.

“Agent Nerzogk,” Doctor Lsar ordered, breaking the silence. “Fix his arm. The General and I need to discuss something.”

Agent Nerzogk stepped forward, closing the gap between the two of us. “Are you going to make this difficult, Aviator?” he asked. His imposing body blocked both the doctor and General from my view. It didn’t matter as much as he thought it might. I kept my focus locked on their positions, following the General as he trailed the crimson woman out, as if looking through my handler’s bulky form. My body and mind stayed locked in a debate of whether or not to take action—until the sound of their fading steps told me they were gone.

For better or worse, the opportunity had passed.

When I still didn’t move, Agent Nerzogk took the collar of my jumpsuit in his outrageously large fist. “Are we going to have a problem?” The implant’s hum made his power move unnecessary. I had to give the guy some credit, though. He could’ve used the implant from the start of our silent standoff.

“No,” I whispered.

My dwindling pride didn’t let me move.

“Are you sure about that?”

I shook my head, at a loss of what to do. “Do you really believe I worked for your Empire?” The words slipped out, a momentary lapse in judgment. He loomed over me, making no room for misinterpretation about his role at the moment, but, for some reason, I had it in my mind I could trust him.

“You think otherwise?”

The fact that he’d responded at all, much less in the considerate tone he’d chosen to speak with, compounded my confusion. And it meant I had to keep talking.

“I misspoke. I’m sure they have their reasons,” I said to try to backtrack my statement. He’s not a friend; I scolded myself. I should stop now before I reinforce the idea that this jade man was anything more than simply my jailer.

“You are uncooperative, which hasn’t given us much choice in how to handle you.” His pebbled brow furrowed with pity. “It’s reasonable for you to struggle with coping to this situation, but you should resolve your reluctance sooner rather than later. This obstinance isn’t gaining you any favors.”

I answered his unwanted sympathy by ungluing my feet to step back and lay on the med bed as ordered. His reasoning fell short, but I would gain nothing by pointing that out. Agent Nerzogk strapped me in, his movement awkward after our strange heart-to-heart moment. I didn’t cry out when the med bot engulfed my injured arm and activated a targeted regeneration to mend the bone. Repetition had made the bot’s intense sting manageable. Besides, compared to the doctor’s lab, this was nothing.

After the regeneration finished, I sorted through my options to pass the time as we waited for the two gem-studded authorities to return. I wanted to resist, attempt to run, even if it was meaningless.

Instead, I stayed still. Shivering despite having finally grown used to the cold. “How long will the doctor be involved in my case?” I asked. I couldn’t help it. I wanted to fill the silence with something, even if it went against my better judgment to talk to the man who was supposed to be the muscle keeping me compliant.

His jade shoulders tensed. He started pacing instead of responding.

“Give me something. I’m not resisting. I just…want to know.”

“Your work in the simulator is impressive,” he said without looking at me. “It’s like something straight out of Niribian legends.”

“But combat training is secondary to exploring your unique quantum properties. You brought this on yourself.”

“It would’ve been nice to be told that earlier.”

We were quiet. Agent Nerzogk continued pacing. I watched him absently and wondered how long this threat would loom over me. Then I wondered why it bothered him so much when I was the one on the med bed. My gaze drifted to the self-illuminated white ceiling. It wasn’t all that different from the view I’d woken to initially. The view I would return to momentarily. Always white walls and blocked exits.

I could make myself useful to the Empire, as General Larkkon had advised. Make myself too valuable to be kept in experiments or training. I resisted that path, but why? I disliked the idea of being threatened into becoming their weapon. Sure. However, if I took my pride out of the equation, it made the most sense. Becoming one of them held the potential of leading outside these white walls.

“Quantum properties?” I asked him.

“Agent Nerzogk,” the General’s voice came over the intercom, “prepare the Aviator for transport.”

Doctor Lsar had apparently won the debate.

Agent Nerzogk’s expression was stone cold, but I could see a frown tug at the corners of his leathered lips. “I don’t understand, Aviator. Why would you risk this?” he asked just above a whisper.

I didn’t have an answer.

He detached my med bed from the panels. A pod encapsulated its edges and me along with it. A soft blue light illuminated the dark interior between my body and the pod walls. The implant pulsed as it received and sent a signal, then buzzed to adjust to new perimeters. A dampening effect outside the pod cut off my cybernetic range. Dread grew in the pit of my stomach, but this process drew out my curiosity. A surprising amount of thought went into every detail of the Empire’s precautions.

The pod shifted into motion. With the absence of cameras, free from being monitored, I let loose the stream of profanities I’d held back earlier in whatever originless languages they came out in. Not that it would do any good other than to fill the narrow, uncomfortable silence.