CHAPTER 21
Two dark-cloaked figures approached from opposite directions. I blocked a close-quarter attack from the first and finished it with a sharp kick to the throat. A shot came from behind. I pivoted, my arm skimmed by an artificial projectile. It dissolved upon contact, mist against my arm thanks to the simulator’s protective security measures.
Another cloak joined to replace the one I’d taken out. I darted to the side, bolting for the nearest cover to split up the attackers and deal with one threat at a time.
Before I reached my cover, however, the simulator sighed in decompression. The world in the frames went dark.
I lost my precious high with the disruption, holding onto the lingering effects of an empty mind during the split second of midnight marking the simulator’s transition. Then the room’s white light entered. I muttered a few curses under my breath. I’d only recently been able to explore these advanced levels after painstakingly upgrading the simulator’s settings. Without the AI’s maze to escape into, the simulator returned to being my main oasis.
“Over here, asset.” Agent Terrokk’s voice carried through as soon as the frames cleared. I regained my balance from where I was still half sliding across the rippling nanobotic floor and jogged over to where the metallic operative waited. I knew better than to push his patience.
I couldn’t get a read on his vorgan-ized expression. He was frowning but also had a sadistic glint in his eyes. “Today’s your lucky day. You’re being reinstated as an Imperial operative.”
“Where’s General Larkkon?” I asked, suspicious of why the General would entrust him, of all people, with this news. This long-anticipated announcement hardly felt worth celebrating when the delivery came from my least favorite person.
“He’s busy. He’ll meet you after Doctor Lsar gives the all-clear.”
I opened my mouth to protest before thinking better of it and returning to a neutral expression, remaining quiet.
My hesitation turned his frown into a smile. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Are you having second thoughts about joining the team?” I understood the sadistic glint from earlier now.
“What does the doctor need to check?”
“You ask too many questions, asset. Don’t let your change in status get to your head. Operative or not, you’re still a piece of Imperial tech. A word of advice: stay quiet and follow orders. Nobody wants to see you as more than a machine.”
I took a long exhale to conceal a spike of annoyance.
Terrokk stepped closer, his metallic tatts glinting with an eerie similarity to his eyes. “Are you going to cause trouble?” He smiled, welcoming the potential conflict.
“You think you could stop me if I did?” I returned the dare, calling him out on his bluff.
He waited for me to make the first move. I waited for him. In the end, neither of us took the risk. His nose wrinkled in disgust. A stronger-than-average shock ran down my spine. I flinched at the pain but showed no other response. “Watch yourself, asset,” he hissed.
I’d crushed Terrokk’s face countless times, picturing his image in the simulator’s faceless hoods. But here, in the real world, I didn’t respond—except to extend my arm for the cuffs.
His eyes narrowed, ignoring my extended biociruited arm, my attempt at appeasement.
“Your promotion doesn’t change the fact you are an Imperial investment.” He put a cold hand on my back to usher me toward the doorway.
I took an instinctual step back from the door’s security frame.
My retreat, however, brought me uncomfortably close to the metallic man’s chest. He gripped my upper arm. His humid breath tickled my ear.
“You’re getting over-confident because of what you’ve been able to accomplish in the simulator. But those stats don’t matter in the real world.” He tapped the back of my neck in the exact spot where the implant lingered. “Remember that.”
His touch made my skin crawl.
I was almost relieved when he issued another shock and shoved me again toward the entrance.
I didn’t retreat this time—any level of pain was preferable to giving him another chance to get that close.
I braced for the implant to react to the frame’s security protocols.
Instead, my implant pulsed with a new registration. The doorway emptied to reveal a pod merged with its edges, filling the holding space. Smaller than a transporter but able to fit more than one person. Agent Terrokk stepped forward. I hurried inside the new transport before he could get close enough to push me along. He scoffed and shot me a dagger-sharp glare before closing the pod for transfer. Being cut off from his line of sight let me breathe easier. I’d never liked him. Now my tolerance for his taunting was at a dangerous low.
The space inside the pod was quiet. Cut off from outside currents.
I was careful to keep a neutral expression and hide my anxiety from…nothing. There were no cameras.
A soft, diffused light emanated through the pod’s interior, slowly shifting from one color to another, its faint electrical trace as soothing as its pastel colors. This simple, calming detail was not integral to its function and instead showed a level of thoughtfulness that made me feel human. It seemed to exude Amara’s apologetic smile. She was doing her job, creating security equipment matching the Empire’s specs—but did so while also showing me I was not yet reduced to a machine. Or, at least, that’s how I chose to interpret it. Agent Terrokk’s claim about my being no more than equipment cut deeper than I was comfortable admitting.
I held onto the hope that Amara, at least, didn’t view me that way. I wanted to stay here, alone and immersed in these soft cascading lights. My isolation wouldn’t last long. And, knowing my destination, I paced in small circles while the pod moved along its route. When its motion stopped, my implant responded to a silent scan and the pod door dissipated. The lab’s familiar chemical-rich air seeped in. Agent Nerzogk waited for me at the center of the room next to an empty strap-bound chair. Holos surrounded Doctor Lsar at her desk. Her reptilian-slit eyes flicked up from her position in the room’s far corner to acknowledge my arrival, then returned to her data.
“Let’s get this over with,” Nerzogk ordered. The depth of his tone’s rumble impressed me, like rolling rocks.
When I didn’t immediately step out, he approached my pod and added an empathetic whisper.
“It’s not optional. Come on.”
Every fiber of my body preferred not to enter this menacing white-walled laboratory. I sighed through gritted teeth and followed Agent Nerzogk to the chair. The crimson doctor left her desk. Her ruby eyes matched her vivid red scales, and she wore her usual white lab coat. Various bots accompanied her as she moved to join us. I recognized most of the equipment from my previous visits. My white jumpsuit blended into this room, my place of origin.
“Hello, Aviator.” Doctor Lsar’s voice was silky and needling at the same time. Her analytical eyes watched me with her usual detached curiosity. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
I glanced back at the transporter pod. It was merged with the security frame, blocking my escape route. My desire to run burned stronger than usual. Something about this arrangement, and the chair's placement, made my nerves raw.
“I understand you have been progressing rapidly.” The doctor’s voice jarred me out of my distracted fog. She was within striking distance now. The cameras in the room pricked at my nerves, and the weight of being monitored returned, along with a keen sensation of everyone in the room waiting for me to break my composure.
I simply wanted to get this over with. This is a good thing, I reminded myself as Nerzogk stepped closer, either growing impatient or trying to shield me from being shocked for non-compliance. I breathed out and took my position in the chair. The sooner we got this over with, the better. After my promotion, maybe, there could be an end to these tests.
The chair responded by releasing a series of cold restraints to snake around my limbs and keep me locked in place. I shivered, both from the cold and a primitive fear rekindled by being back in this lab where everything had started. None of this felt like a promotion. Agent Nerzogk double-checked to ensure my restraints were secured manually before returning to his usual position beside the entrance. The wall within the doorway returned to solid, and the soft lights from my transporter pod disappeared.
Doctor Lsar came too close for comfort.
She removed a sleek collection of interlinked black jewels from her pocket. I had to force myself not to squirm from her slick hands as they brushed against my arm’s skin. The jeweled armband buzzed into place. A black operative band.
My stomach twisted, and I fought back the urge to vomit from a wave of nausea as the band’s true function barred its teeth. It was like being connected to my training room’s console, to the program acting as a watchdog for my sixth sense.
Doctor Lsar pressed a finger against my new security sleeve before I could fully overcome my nausea. I tried not to notice as the band on my right bicep pulsed with her registered her authority.
I couldn’t, however, ignore the holo display prompted by her activation. I could feel it as much as see it.
I bit my lip, careful not to show how much this bothered me. To be accessed like one of her many machines, my biometric data relayed through the holo display now projected in front of the sleeve.
She kept the display active, routing the feed to one of her bots—a one-way connection. The security sleeve blocked my cybernetic access. I might be able to hack through its barrier or at least suppress it, but I wouldn't dream of attempting it here and now.
She scanned my implant and returned to her desk, out of sight from my now restricted perspective. My head was locked in place with the rest of my body, stuck with a view of the closed entrance, Nerzogk’s statuesque jade body and glinting armbands, and my projected biometrics. Nerzogk gazed past me, making himself a muted presence.
“I won’t keep you here long,” Doctor Lsar said from behind her desk. “I regularly check your biometrics, so today, I’ll only be running some tests and taking blood samples. I am curious to see if your body has changed since you last were here. As well as to check that the tracker is functioning as designed.”
I scoffed at the insistence of calling the implant a tracker. It was a stupid break in composure—but I had to do something to cover my momentary panic. During a thorough examination, the doctor might find out I had—once—tried to access the implant. It had been my only attempt. The volatility I’d encountered was threatening enough I hadn’t dared to try it again.
Nerzogk flinched, breaking his attempt to remain neutral. He made eye contact to send me a silent ‘Shut up.’
His warning came too late.
Doctor Lsar returned to stand in front of me, crimson hands in her pockets. Her looming dissatisfaction made me instantly regret my break in composure. “You know, Aviator, we are on the same team.” Her reptilian eyes scanned me, evaluating me in a way that made me feel even more like a piece of her lab equipment. “And we will continue working closely together going forward.”
We shared a moment of tense silence. She appeared alone with her thoughts while watching me. These callous red eyes had haunted me from day one, shedding an unwanted light onto everything I was too afraid to confront. When I was in her presence, I couldn’t avoid the cold facts of my circumstances. My lost memories, my inability to have control. The lost chance of escape. Under her gaze, I was reduced to a test subject—and I knew that was all I would ever be within the Research Department.
Her expression settled, and she stepped closer. “You are an interesting case. Not just a valuable asset. You are the key to the future of the Vor Empire. That’s more important than becoming an Imperial operative, isn’t it?”
“I’m cooperating,” I stated in my defense, desperate to escape her lasered attention.
“Yes. You are. Am I supposed to thank you for that?” The expression flashing across her brow held an unusual mix of curiosity and resentment. “It shouldn’t be relevant, you know. What you want. But the General is insisting on giving you autonomy.”
I didn’t dare to reply. She continued speaking to me—or herself. I wasn’t sure which.
“General Larkkon thinks your value is in your training—in becoming an active operative. And that’s fine. But there is a bigger picture. Your value, Aviator, is in whether or not your success can be replicated.” She leaned in closer, her breath heating my face. “Are your whims worth jeopardizing that success?”
“No,” I answered.
Her intensity echoed Agent Terrokk’s strangely un-human voice, reconjuring the heat of his breath on my ear. I wished I could move my arms to rub away the unwanted sensation. Since I couldn’t do that, I made a mental note to show my commitment to General Larkkon. Whether or not I was treated the same as the other Imperial operatives wasn’t important as long as I could manage to stay in their ranks. It was clear he was the only person keeping me out of this lab.
“The next batch of test subjects would agree,” she said before returning to a normal distance. “I appreciate your cooperation. We won’t take long.” Her expression and tone returned to an unnerving calm. She moved back to her desk to finish preparations.
Nerzogk looked past me, avoiding eye contact. I didn’t know how involved he was with the other experiments run by this crimson scientist. How many ‘test subjects’ had he seen pass through these walls? And how many were still living upon their exit?
I tried not to follow that line of thought further.
When Doctor Lsar returned, it wasn’t to make conversation. She initiated the first round of her tests. My body drowned in a fury of currents. The data relayed through my biocircuit’s security sleeve. I fought through it, organizing the currents into a manageable pattern to bring the world around me back into focus. Gasping for air as I remembered how to breathe. She continued initiating different levels and complexities of currents, pausing to download my biometric data from time to time. I fell in and out of relation with the world around me, my body increasingly weary from the strain. A migraine throbbed through every cell.
I lost track of time. All I knew for sure was that, compared to my previous times here, the tests ran faster.
At last, the doctor dismissed her equipment.
Nerzogk took blood samples as she returned to her desk.
When her crimson figure returned to my limited range of sight, her blank expression didn’t hold any clues.
“You have made significant strides in tuning your abilities. Well done,” she passively congratulated. This was a catchphrase of hers. She always finished our encounters with a ‘well done’ to send me off. A shiver ran through me as I realized I would be back here again and again until she found whatever it was that she was missing for her experiments.
But, at least today, I dodged what I most feared. She hadn’t discovered my attempt to access the implant. If she had, I was sure this crimson woman would leap at the chance to justify extending her ‘diagnostics.’
Doctor Lsar signaled to Agent Nerzogk. His slick jade fingers moved with surprising grace for their size as he finished filling the last few vials with blood, then crossed the lab to join her at her desk, presumably to assist in interpreting the results, leaving the room within my limited range of view blank. White walls and a solid entrance frame.
They left me forgotten in the chair like a machine on standby. Desperation and fury spiked my piercing migraine and sore body with useless adrenaline, my instincts still urging me to run. I focused on my breath to calm the storm in my mind. Lengthening each inhale and exhale. This is what I wanted. To be an Imperial operative. Wasn’t it?
Once they’d finished their review, Doctor Lsar returned to swipe away the security sleeve’s projection, then turned to go back to her desk. Agent Nerzogk knelt next to the manual releases on my chair. His large leather hands finished unlatching the first portion of the chair’s web before the doctor stopped mid-step in the corner of my vision.
“Oh,” the slit of her eyes widened, “I nearly forgot.” She waved at Nerzogk to stand back. He reattached the latches he’d undone and stepped away. Personally, I thought the adjustment was unnecessary. I was still securely in place even without the few undone straps, but no one was asking my opinion.
The doctor retrieved something from her desk. Her steps stopped behind me.
An injection sent a searing heat screaming through my body, knocking me out of harmony with reality.
The heat eventually passed, and the implant’s rapid pulses settled.
When my focus returned, the restraints were off. Doctor Lsar was once again preoccupied at her desk.
A buzzing aftertaste vibrated through my spine while Nerzogk helped me to stand. My body stung. Residual nausea from the tests hit, and I leaned against his slick leather body while scrambling to regain strength.
Something was off. Something had changed. I couldn’t quite place what it was.
Nerzogk held me with ease, his strength something I’d begun to forget since he rarely played the role of my jailer anymore. His gold reptilian-slit eyes held concern as he misted my white jumpsuit to revert the material into an empty cartridge. I tried to feign strength, tried to make his concern unnecessary. He pulled a second cartridge from one of the room’s bots, and a sleek black fabric soon cascaded over my naked body to replace the previous white.
A uniform. Matching his and the other operatives.
“So this is it, then?” I kept quiet to avoid catching the doctor’s attention. “I’m an Imperial operative?” I hated how weak my voice sounded. As weak as my body. And I still couldn’t figure out what had changed.
“Welcome to the team.” He smiled a razor-toothed grin and insisted on accompanying me to the exit. Once we reached the lab’s entrance, my implant pulsed, and the portal transformed to reveal the same pod from before.
Nerzogk’s weighted gaze followed me as I stumbled inside. He took a half-step forward, hinting at his debate over whether or not to join me during transport. I was thankful to remain alone when, at last, the pod closed and removed the lab from view. Its insulation muted my access to outside currents, which were, as usual, more pronounced after the doctor’s tests.
The lab’s noxious air lingered.
I sank onto the pod’s circular bench, resisting a swell of emotion, finally alone with my thoughts and free from the pressure of being watched. My head fell into my hands. I lost the last of my strength and curled into a tight ball. My head and body throbbed. I rubbed my forehead, hoping to dim the pain.
My fingers brushed against freshly stubbled ends from buzz-cut hair.
They must’ve cut it while I was too disoriented to notice.
A warm streak slid down my cheek.
So, that was what it was…that’s what had me feeling off. My method of timekeeping. Now reset.
Before I could process why it bothered me so much, my body was shaking, sobbing. Calm down. Pull it together. I lectured myself, unable to gain control. The outburst of exhausted emotion too heavy to reign in.
Out of habit, I pushed away all my thoughts. Lengthened my inhales and exhales. Let myself become absorbed by whatever distraction was available, melting into the slow cascading lights inside the pod. My body stopped shaking, and I wiped away the evidence of my breakdown from my cheeks.