Chapter 1: Consequences Of Action

A Chapter by Schuyler Thorpe

Another morning of tests, another day of being poked and prodded.

I couldn’t tell how much longer I was supposed to endure this kind of treatment.

But I guess variants like myself had no choice. Not if we wanted to win this war.

Naturally, I was wide awake before the calming elevator music could be piped through to my service unit; waiting for the time when all the specialists and scientists would come in, see me dressed in this gaudy white gown and start asking me all kinds of questions.

The kind which I often times wondered if I shouldn’t answer, but instead remain stoically impassive about.

My thoughts of the day’s events woke me up long before anything else. And that was just the side effect of being too doped up on sugar cubes and other protein supplements that the guys upstairs swore kept me in fine shape and trim.

But even looking at myself, I certainly wish I could pack on a few pounds just for the sheer hell of it. But that would throw off the augmentation process"which everyone was telling me would be painless as possible.

But seeing what they did to Tobi the other day, I wasn’t so sure about that.

So I lay there with a turbulent mind, waiting for the music, waiting for the day to begin anew.

Minutes now…seconds even and…

I would be the dutiful little variant that held all the hopes of the Fundamentalist Coalition.

Ready and willing to give my life for a cause greater than life and be welcomed into the arms of the One True God for my service to humanity. (But I had a hard time believing in even that, because of my semi-agnostic, semi-atheist beliefs that were often couched in absolute secrecy.)

The music came on then, something from Bach’s Seventh Symphony. Something to rouse the blood and drive the sleep from one’s eyes.

La-De-F*****g-Da. I groused inwardly, shutting my eyes against the impending glare of the overhead lights. This part was always painful to me. A serious b***h even.

But when they came on, there was no escaping it. I couldn’t just simply turn my head away from the onslaught. I was seriously porked in that regard.

Hard to believe that the advances of the 22nd century couldn’t come equipped with a dimmer switch, but I had no real control over that. I was this little, dutiful, variant with no rights of her own.

A newly hatched subject for the fitting and augmentation process which promised to turn the tide of battle.

Providing everything worked as advertised of course. I thought to myself, thinking that the worst things could happen and I would be sent back to my maturation chamber to spend the next few cycles growing in a rich (and disgusting) nutrient bath that reminded me of something I read in a classic Star Wars novel once.

I couldn’t even remember the term for it, but it certainly did live up to its billing. Lucky for me, I didn’t spend the last five cycles eating that green and white paste-like s**t. I had a rebreather mask and fitted with some special contact lenses that would protect my eyes from the viscous stuff.

But getting the s**t out of your hair was a b***h and a half. I remember the last time I spent hours combing it and still finding the paste-like substance caked in the long tresses of my own black locks.

Then the guys upstairs decided to make me as bald as a beaver all over again and I could never forgive them for the hours of itchiness I had endured because some bright bean forgot to apply the skin ointment on afterwards to reduce the burning sensations I felt afterwards.

Such joy. I reflected sourly, wiggling my fingers and toes just a bit from the restraint harness. It was hard not to think of freedom when you’re laying bed trussed up like a mental midget in an insane asylum and not able to even escape the confines of your room.

Of course, I had something to do with that. And I put the blame fully on myself. But I wanted out.

And the only want to get out was steal an electronic lock pin, a security card, and some old-fashioned elbow grease, and viola!

Instant freedom.

For about a third of a cycle anyways. I never got very far as it were. The damned spooks and tracking chips embedded in my arms, legs, and spinal column made sure that I would stand out like a sore thumb on the grid.

La-De-F*****g-Da. I thought once more in quiet mirth, waiting for the lights to come on in about another minute or so.

They did and I almost swore that the compound’s designers had included a couple of solar boosters to the grid just to blind variants like me right out of the gate.

“Uhhhnnn!” I grimaced, shaking my head back and forth as far as it could go. But my neck restraints held me down to a few millimeters of an arc second’s worth of movement either way.

“Turn down the hot lights!” I practically screamed at the top of my lungs, hoping that Mother One would hear me.

The lights dimmed after a minute or so and I finally opened my eyes, seeing nothing but spots, shadows, and other objects that kept me from focusing on anything from the bland, overhead ceiling.

“Good morning, Alice Zero.” Mother One’s pleasant voice cut through the fog of my unhappiness and angst. “Did you sleep well?”

Sleep? I almost blurted out in raucous anger. How could anyone sleep in a f*****g restraint harness?

“No.” I said in a bitter tone. “I was trussed up like a turkey with all the fixings.”

“That’s what you get for trying to escape three days ago, Alice.” Mother One’s voice answered back in an almost mocking tone of voice. “Punishment for the unworthy and the disobedient. It’s all part of God’s Law.”

I rolled my eyes. Yeah, well, your “god” can kiss my shiny white butt. I thought acridly. I wanted out!

I made a nonconforming noise of sorts, which Mother One took as a bland retort and said, “Remember, everything happens for a reason, child. You cannot fight against the tide of progress or change.”

I wish at that point my hands weren’t in their restraints, otherwise, I would’ve flipped Mother the bird from my prone position.

“F**k you…” I whispered angrily. “And f**k this s**t. Why the hell am I doing here in the first place? I never signed up to be some b*****d’s guinea pig!”

“Ten demerits for uncouth behavior and five for using foul language.” Mother reminded me in a patient tone. “You’ve broken the rule of absolute silence.”

I let out a growl of impatience. “Why don’t you come online and see for yourself what it’s like to be treated with such barbarism?”

Mother laughed of course. She always did. Always finding my cause while predicaments to be funny and amusing.

“It’s not barbaric behavior, child. But a way to instill absolute obedience. We cannot afford the risk of having any loose cannons in our ranks. Not while this war is waging on.”

I sighed, on the verge of giving up.

Why argue? She’ll never understand!

I sagged in my restraints then. “Fine. I will do a couple deca-cycles of penance and say a couple Hail Mary’s in our Lord’s presence. Will that satisfy you?”

“Of course.” Mother One answered in complete agreement, before the front of my restraints popped loose on command from Mother herself and the straps and such torture devices retracted on their own accord; slowly melting off my body and going back under the bed.

“You may now get up, child.” She said in her honeyed voice. “You’ll find the bathroom unlocked and ready for you to use.”

“After three days, I have to pee like crazy.” I muttered to myself. “You could’ve at least left me with a bed pan, you crazy"”

But the link cut itself off before I could finish.

But the sentiment remained the same regardless, filling me with an erstwhile amount of pleasure.

“"b***h.”

But I didn’t wait around for long. No stewing for this variant. I had to get up and use the bathroom and I had to move like…now.

Or at least I tried to anyways. I had forgotten what happened to me after a three-day hiatus in the restraints and every part of me struggled like crazy to get up off the bed.

Flop over. Flop over. Don’t hit the floor. The cold, uncaring floor…easy does it.

In a minute’s time, I managed to get my left leg over the side of the tall bed and then felt the cool tiling under my foot.

One down and the crowd goes wild! I thought with unbridled humor. But the rest me felt like dead weight, like I had been suctioned to the bed and every part of the memory cortex padding had been left with a scrawny imprint of my former self.

God…god…god…I breathed out over and over. Make this work for me. At least just this once!

Somehow, I managed to roll over to my other side, my left side, holding firm to the edge and trying to draw up enough auxiliary power to make the rest of me move.

“Uhnn…” I moaned, feeling stiff and sore. Nothing like a few hours worth of exercises and stretching routines to cure me of my ills.

But I still craved my freedom. I still wanted out of this chicken s**t outfit.

So I used that as my Primarily Focus Goal of the Day and willed the rest of me to work.

Oh work it did. I fell off the rest of the bed in a startled heap, screeching the entire way.

“Ow…” I complained, reaching up to rub my head. I looked across the expansive service unit, past the bed, past the living area and the couch, with its coffee table arraignments, and stared at the vault-like door that had a Glo panel and blinkety-blink lights.

Walk or crawl. That’s how it was with me after being restrained for the past three days. It’s not like I had much of a choice in the matter. Everyone within earshot saw me escape and then tried to give chase.

Had the guard at the end of the hall hadn’t used his stun pistol, I would’ve made it with a second’s worth to spare.

But the stun charge struck me like a bleedin’ bull and I hit the floor in a dead run and ended up in an unconscious heap after that.

I don’t remember anything from that point forward. All I recall was waking up in the middle of the second night and in a restraint harness.

I couldn’t even recall how I got there. I was so brain blitzed.

It was only eight hours later before I got the 411 from Mother One about my brilliant"but foolhardy"escape attempt. Then I realized that all my carefully created plans had effectively turned to dust.

Nuts. I thought to myself, rising up on both hands and getting to my knees. At least that part of me worked. I still couldn’t be sure about the rest of me.

If my feet didn’t work, I was sunk.

“If nothing else, I can crawl to the bathroom.” I elected with a voice of confidence and authority. “That usually works.”

So I tried to get up"as a last ditch effort"and get to the bathroom before I wet myself all over the floor. Of course, I had nothing against taking a much needed bath either, but drenched in urine wasn’t one of my life’s most immediate and worthwhile life goals.

No, I planned on being the most powerful and destructive force on Earth"armed with the latest in software and hardware tech on the planet and dealing a crippling blow to the Fundamentalist Coalition’s enemies at the same time.

At least…that’s how the army’s spiel always worked in those daily flash ads dotting the Coalition’s many highway arterials.

Join the Army and make a difference! Fight, fight! Rah! Rah! Hoo-ey! And praise be to the One True God!

Just thinking about it made my stomach sick, but I think that was because I hadn’t had any decent protein nibs in the past three days.

“At least they could’ve done was feed me, the uncaring b******s.” I breathed acidly.

Somehow though, my feet worked like they were supposed to. But holding my weight on the other hand…?

Not so much.

It took me a few more minutes of standing and leaning up against the bed before I finally found the necessary strength to mush forth towards the bathroom"one small step at a time.

Once I got there, I keyed in my unit ID by remote, forgetting for the moment that Mother One had already done the deed.

The wall panel buzzed a couple of times and it took me a moment to realize my error.

Oh. Right.

I pulled on the door handle a bit, and heard it hiss open with a small sigh.

There in front of me"in the bright lights of the overhead solar paneling"was a sink, a toilet, and a combination shower stall and bathtub.

Clean. Inviting.

And mine.

I sighed then. Bliss. Pure bliss.

Everything didn’t seem to matter for the past few days. Not when you had your own commode. Not when you could take care of business the old-fashioned way and forget about your trouble’s for one day.

That’s all I ask. I thought to myself as I closed the door behind me and made a quiet beeline for the toilet.

I didn’t bother looking as I pulled down my Army issued panties in a hurry, flung them off to the side and took a quick seat on the throne with all the intense and purpose of relieving about three days worth of frustration.

And the promise that my next escape attempt from the compound would be a fool-proof one to boot.

Then I began to pee.