The Aviator Awakening

My hideout didn't offer a real solution. It was too exposed, too simple. Fading adrenaline made my limbs grow heavy as I collapsed onto the bot’s maintenance rafter. The arachnid-like cleaning machine crept further along the beam, its metallic body glinting from the mimicked daylight veining the porous rock walls. The space between the shaft and the ceiling was cramped, meant for bots and not for men. I didn’t mind the tight fit; this cold alcove offered a sense of security in an otherwise hostile environment.

Soon enough, the alarm extended outside the building I’d escaped from earlier. The tunnel’s subtle illumination gave way to familiar flashes of periodic red, like blood pulsing through a dark artery. I traced the light streams lining the ceiling above my perch, less than an arm's length away. The glowing web was too subtle to merge with—different from the circuitry I’d influenced up to this point. These gentle light streams held a singular purpose, not interconnected like the electric current in the hallways I’d escaped from. Beautiful. But useless.

Heavy footfalls echoed in waves of patrols below. They resonated through the tunnel around me, too close for comfort. I stopped my tracing, double-checked I was hidden from any possible exposure to those hunting me below, and leaned my head against the wide metal beam, hoping to melt into it. When that fantastical hope was denied, I closed my eyes, savoring the periodic dark and self-initiated chaos—searching for something, anything, to distract from the desperation propelling me this far. The monotony of the alarm, and the steady, rhythmic footfalls from the soldiers passing below, offered some peace. For a while.

When my attempt to block out the strange world around me failed, the temptation to run surfaced again. My instincts told me to keep going, keep running, keep fighting. My body, on the other hand, begged for sleep. My rational mind was the worst of all, filled with mounting questions and no answers. Even if I did slip into my action-craving instincts—I had no destination or goal, not the faintest idea of where to go.

What was this place? A headache hammered; I rubbed my temple and tried to subdue it. Analyzing my surroundings opened the door to more unknowns, filling my empty memory like air pulled into a vacuum. I couldn't shake the feeling I was a foreigner here. The people themselves were a mystery. They resembled my structure in the number of limbs and general form—but aside from my stolen uniform, their exterior was unmistakably different from mine.

I sighed, prolonged my exhale, and clung to the calming effect given by my lung’s depleted oxygen. When I allowed myself to inhale, I searched for something else to focus on before my desperation overtook me.

I wrapped myself in the alarm's predictability and weighed my options. I could keep running blindly, indulge in short-term goals, one distraction after the next. Or I could seek out some hint of purpose. I combed my limited memories for information, coming up blank except for the conversation I'd overheard before fully waking. It was a strange memory. Disjointed from reality, yet somehow vivid, with the voices distinct. I’d been struggling at the time to grasp the meaning behind each word, each movement. The pain lacing the memory was equally vivid. Panic swelled from the depths of those terrifying pre-waking moments. My eyes flashed open. Without context, the memory held no real information. All it did was unleash the stomach-turning fear, rage, and confusion clouding my mind ever since waking.

The ceiling's cold, rough surface scraped against my skin when I pressed my hand against it again, searching for my strange cybernetic connection. But the rock was too dense, and the streams too sparse. I pressed more firmly against the light streams and ignored my gut’s nauseous tension while I pushed my electrical interaction to its limits, probing the subtle current with as much out-of-body force as I could muster. The result was the same as before. Nothing. My hiding spot wasn’t conducive to my main advantage.

A breeze brushed through the tunnel, into the bot’s rafter, and against my overly sensitive skin. Crisp air. I breathed it in, savoring the contrast of its rich scent in the midst of my chaos. This hideout had been the only option near enough to my exit from the sterile hallways to offer immediate cover. Up to this point, I'd been lucky. The breeze passed. Another round of patrols distantly entered the tunnel, their approaching steps amplified due to the rock’s canyon-like acoustics.

Despite my efforts to stay calm, I couldn’t tame my rapid heart rate. The marching echoed with mechanical pacing—diligent but not hot on the trail. Most likely, they hadn't figured out I'd left the building’s maze. But they would. Sooner or later. The small semblance of control I clung to here in my hiding spot threatened to slip away. My instincts reignited, urging me forward. I waited for the footfalls to fade from earshot, then turned onto my stomach, propped myself onto my elbows with aching muscles, and scanned for options. The maintenance machine finished its task and tucked itself into the ceiling at the far edge of our shared narrow, lofty lair. As its multi-armed body retreated, a soft glow replaced it, emanating from the tunnel’s end. Natural light. Not quite an exit, but the general direction leading away from the alarms, and the source of a renewed outside breeze.

I began to crawl, careful to muffle my movement as much as possible. I crept forward during the alarms and paused in the interludes. Before I could go more than a few paces toward the light, my focus snapped back to the environment within the tunnel. A commotion echoed through, coming from below the beam in the direction opposite the daylight.

A new hope emerged, rivaling the instinctual urgency propelling me, and I froze. The alarm blared, then silenced. In its absence, I homed in on the sound triggering my pause. This group was larger than the previous patrols. Yet, through the thunderous marching and between the alarm’s blare, a single set of footsteps stood out from the rest—matching those of the man from my first memory.

I risked leaning past the edge of the rafter to get a better look, scanning for as much detail as possible. A prominent, broad-shouldered figure with dusty emerald scales drew my attention. The color dulled in the tunnel’s red glow. His uniform was made of a sleeker material than the other soldiers. The tips of his armored skull gleamed with a hint of jewels.

He strode at the center of the soldiers, a wide girth separating him from the forward and rear platoons. His dazzling emerald skull, combined with his lonesome position at the center of the marching mass, indicated a high rank. The soldiers behind him checked the exits while those at the front searched every nook on the perimeter. Their heavy footfalls echoed in unison with the mechanized soldiers mixed into their ranks.

They were nearly beneath my position. I hesitated, not sure of what to do. This man might hold the answers I craved—but I couldn’t shake the urge to keep going, to get out of here. Wherever here might be.

When the next alarm sounded, I pulled myself away from the distraction and back to my original goal. I looked toward the light at the end of the tunnel ahead of me.

And directly into the bulbous eye of a security drone.

I rolled to dodge its stun shot and leapt forward as best as I could in the confined space within the bot’s elevated lair. It weaved away before I could connect long enough to influence its programming.

The mechanical soldiers paused below. The non-robotic soldiers took longer to respond, their hissing voices reporting the discovery but too confused to locate me. More security drones lifted from the ground level to accompany the one already causing me trouble. The rafter’s tight space became a problem. I cursed under my breath and twisted off the beam before the security bots could coordinate their attack. My twist swung me under the beam. I switched my hold to the opposite side, using the change in momentum to aim my fall. The tunnel floor was not looking much more promising than the rafter—but there was a potential hostage for me at the center of their formation.

I landed hard. Harder than I should have. Not by a lot, just enough to feel…off. A sharp pain shot through my legs as I finished rolling. My palms stung, absorbing some of the landing force once I’d realized I was falling heavier than expected. My landing point, at least, was on mark.

My target towered in front of me, emerald green with reptilian slit irises wide from surprise at my sudden appearance. I ignored the needling pain in my legs, a possible hairline fracture, and did a quick assessment while the shock held sway.

Disrupted marching caused a confused thunder to mix with the most recent alarm’s echo. Drones and soldiers scrambled to surround me, weapons locked on, too cautious of hitting the man in front of me to open fire. I scanned their ranks, searching for the weakest point. Some were a similar size to me. Most were larger. All had scaled, reptilian features in a variety of vivid colors. My scan finished with dismal results. The tunnel was too narrow, not providing many options. There were some weak points among the reptilian soldiers, panicked eyes offering slowed reactions and faulty judgment. I’d have some hope if those weaknesses were not compensated for by the mechanized soldiers fortifying their numbers. It wasn't practical to fight my way out—although I had a feeling I could give them a good run.

Practical or not, however, surrender didn’t appeal to me. I prepared to greet their approaching threat.

My plans were cut short when the emerald man in front of me let out a whistle—a long, dual-harmonized sound. The soldiers stopped their advance, although their weapons remained focused on my position. I waited, unsure of their resolve, before returning my attention to the man from my memory. Tiny gems embedded the tips of his scales, intricate and near invisible except for their reflected light. He loomed over me, three heads taller and triple my shoulder width. A sharp smile replaced his wide-eyed surprise. I was within his striking range. I’d need to be a step closer for him to be within mine.

"This has been an extravagant display, Aviator. I take it you’ve gotten whatever this was out of your system?"

I froze. The voice confirmed his identity.

He spoke casually, his tone claiming he knew me. My skin buzzed with the possibility of answers, conflicting with the urge to attack or run. I searched his gold slit eyes, his slick emerald-leather expression. He waited for me with a patient, almost fatherly look—a stark contrast to the panicked soldiers surrounding us.

"Who are you?" I asked. My voice cracked from lack of use. It was challenging to sound demanding while stitching together my vocabulary in this language. The alarm sounded. We waited for the blare to end.

"I am General Larkkon." His voice was stern, but his weathered features remained kind.

The alarm turned off. Replaced with an unnatural silence now that the marching had also halted. My nerves teetered on edge, raw without the chaos with which I’d grown accustomed to distracting myself. The tunnel veins changed hue, returning to their previous daylight glow. The return to normalcy was at odds with the tension lacing the air. I remained frozen in anticipation along with the soldiers surrounding us. My heart pounded as my instinct to fight grappled with the hope of finding answers.

The General picked up on my train of thought and motioned for the soldiers to be at ease. They warily lowered their weapons.

"I apologize, Aviator, for the excessive force. But you gave us a good scare." He analyzed me, searching for some indication of my intentions. "I'd rather not treat you as a threat. Don't give me any further reason to consider you a combatant, understood?" he ordered.

I mulled over the title he used to address me. Aviator. It was familiar. The first fundamentally familiar thing I'd experienced this far. A hint of belonging swelled, further plunging me into confusion. The questions raged, running rampant through my desperate mind. I wanted answers. I wanted to know who I was. Who they were. Why I was here.

I glanced between the gem-embedded man and the hesitant soldiers. Their weapons remained firmly gripped. I avoided making any sudden movements that might trigger them into action.

"If I'm not a threat, then what am I?" My pronunciation was nowhere near as powerful as the man's. I watched him with growing skepticism. He addressed me casually, but on closer examination, his expression showed no real recognition. That lack of recognition tempted me to melt into instinct and make a run for it. To face the challenge lingering behind the soldiers' untrusting eyes. Even if I had no real chance of making it off-base, I could at least attempt to discover what lay beyond the ray of daylight at the end of the tunnel.

"You're a soldier, naturally." He maintained a calm voice, treating me like a cornered animal, trying not to provoke me. He wasn't wrong in his approach. I was as trigger-ready as the soldiers surrounding us. "Let's go back inside the Research Department. You must have a lot of questions."

The emerald reptilian man motioned for us to move towards the building I had exited from not long ago. The nearest soldier typed in an access code.

"I'd rather talk here." The idea of returning to those soulless white walls made my skin crawl. I’d broken out of there to find answers—who was he to deny me them now?

The General disregarded my statement. He walked past me, his massive arm brushing against mine. I considered taking action. He was larger than me—but I could use that to my advantage. I could throw him off balance and pin him against the curved daylight-veined wall. Then I could demand what I wanted.

It was a brief thought. Too impractical. His departing steps stirred the questions into a fury with the threat of being left without answers. Again. My heart pounded, the panic closed in. But it was different. I didn’t want to run. I wanted to follow this towering emerald man. To demand information to fill the void in my mind. The questions tied me to him, the promise of answers as solid as a physical chain. Besides, I didn’t have any other feasible options.

Yet, my feet refused to budge.

The soldiers who still surrounded me watched warily. They gripped their lowered weapons tighter. Their cautious slit-iris eyes suggested they were as unsure of what to make of the situation as I was.