It was ten years after that when world war three shattered the world. Nations had crumbled, countries were divided and the world ended, at least for those living inside of the true terror of war. But humanity is always fickle, always perusing something, however impure, and, like the Phoenix, humanity survived and was resurrected from the flames.
For better or for worse, many companies sprung up to take a profit from war, a war that had yet to even fully settle down. Profit from arms, from technology, medical companies. Any science that could worm it’s way into warfare had. And even as the dust settled, the companies remained tall pillars. The war had been declared as officially settled... But humans can never truly settle, and the echoes of events lead to ripples and waves. The populace had yet to settle their nerves.
But it was the companies began to change the shape of the earth. Having grown strong off of the darkness of mankind, their roots more stable than most of the fledgling nations, the cooperations had become the backbone of society in most places, and the public was thankful. More people survived illness and injury due to technological breakthroughs. Transportation was reinvented. Trains and rails were scattered across city skylines dotted with hover cars. Buildings went underground as well as rising taller than ever, and the air was quite literally fresher, the filth from the war and everything proceeding being filtered out of the air in thousands of purification facilities. The world became a brighter, cleaner place to live.
One such company was called Icarus, after the god who flew too close to the sun. Maybe the name should have been a give away, but no-one was too concerned with what their goals were. No one looked into them or scrutinized their projects, as there was no one to do so. The governments were too weak. And the bright world was looking up. Advancements in science were surpassing even the wildest dreams of yesterday. Progress could not be stopped.
"Mr. Greysham, you have a visitor.”
The bot’s rounded silver body reflected the little light coming from the window. Curtains were drawn tight. It pushed the door to the bedroom open slightly further, keeping it’s pleasant voice steady with a slightly unnatural, chipper quality.
“Major Stone from Icarus."
Owen Greysham groaned into his pillow, closing his eyes. His entire body ached, throbbed with the remains of a fever from a nasty stomach virus that had kept him from his work for the last three days. Ashen faced, the sandy haired man sat up in bed, pausing as the room seemed to spin. He turned and propped himself up in bed, breathing as a wave of nausea overwhelmed him. "Show them in, Sal," he instructed his housekeeper.
He rubbed his face, stubble like sandpaper to his palms. Another groan.
"Major Stone, I must insist that you don't upset him too much. He had been quite sick for three days..." Owen did not hear the response from the Major, and when there was a curt tap on the door, Owen croaked out "Enter!"
Major Stone marched in. A relic from the war, Stone was the type of man who did not get out of bed until he had his medals arranged on his chest. Owen could not stand the man, the two were about as different as opposites could be. Stone was wide, and looked like boulder that had been dragged from an old riverbed. Owen, even while healthy, was gaunt and lanky, more rubber than anything solid. If Owen had ever believed in the Jock and Nerd stereotypes, it was the dichotomy of Major Stone and himself. He secretly hoped that he gave the Major whatever infection that he had.
"Major, to what do I owe the pleasure? I assume you didn’t bring a get well card?" Owen said, his voice dripping with simpering cheerfulness, even if he wanted to projectile vomit over the man. The Major gave Greysham a cold look, and produced a thin tablet computer from his briefcase. His breathing barely changed, but Owens eyebrows raised. The man was formal sure, but something about him was even stiffer than usual, his jaw tight. Major Stone flipped the tablet to the correct page, and handed it to Owen, who was suddenly very aware that he was still in pajamas.
"Last night, at sixteen hundred hours, subject X1030 went, for lack of a better word, ape shit. She was running a maze test to evaluate durability and speed, and they decided to spring on the mortality test on her. It hadn’t been her first mortality test, she had killed others before, but after killing T1030, as we had hoped, she wouldn't go on... so we ended the test," Owen fixed Stone with a cold gaze, however the major seemed not to notice, "My men went to retrieve her, and take her back to her rooms but she went nuts!"
Owens mouth felt dry. The Major wasn’t one for colloquialisms. He looked down at the tablet in his hands, and loaded up the photo storage. "Shit..." he hissed as picture after picture of the massacre scrolled past. Blood. Everywhere. Bodies mutilated, torn, destroyed. Limbs that had been torn from the rest of the body – He stopped, here in the middle of a row of photos. That had been his department - the nuclear cybernetics. His coworkers. The Major was continuing. "After she killed almost everyone, she escaped before we could naturalize the-" Stone was cut off by a frantic jolt from Owen, who sat bolt upright.
"What!"
Regretting the action immediately, Owen let out a warbling groaned, leaning over the other side of the bed, vomiting in a bucket that Sal had left him. She would clear it up when the Major had gone. When his stomach had settled, and he felt like he had thrown up everything bar his toenails, he looked up at the Major.
"Her cybernetics- the power core is unstable. My lab's been tampering with it for months now. It could destroy the entire city. Hell, no one could live here for years. You need to get Doctor Gree-" He was cut off.
"Doctor Green is dead, Mr. Greysham. So is the rest of your department. You are now in charge of the cybernetics department. However this is now a military incident.” Major Stone crossed his arms, growing stiffer by the minute.
“But anyone armed who goes near her ends up dead. We know where she is... we need you to get close enough to be able to stabilize the reactor for now... and gain her trust. She may have failed the maze test, but with the brutality she cut through the staff at Icarus, we are deeming her a success. We need you to help with her capture... she is far too dangerous to be able to roam free.
Owen shivered, and it had very little to do with the illness.
Art included was made by me.
Protected under Copywrite, ©2018 Briar and Laura
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