Hey guys, I was going to have Garrus' POV on this one, but it was getting long enough already and it would have put several more thousand words on this. I thought I should put something out already. I will put Garrus' next chapter, for now enjoy Shepherd's POV alone.
It was an empty feeling, like being carried on the waves of a cold tide, bitten by a dark wind that crept its way into and through my bones. There was no warmth, no light of any kind. I was alone. I screamed and screamed, thrashing in an invisible pool of my own making. I hoped someone would hear me. There was an energy around me that rippled away with every struggle made. I stopped moving, letting my consciousness drift in and out with every breath. The fear and anger died with the silence and everything was swallowed into blackness...
An irritating noise broke through, the hint of quick, fragile whispers. I wanted to move, wanted to stop the beeping from corrupting the peace that had finally washed over me. My face began to hurt and my stomach twisted in knots. My eyes twitched in response to the painful soreness awakening all over. I let out a groan and tried to sit up.
"Hey! She's awake!" Someone rushed over, touching my shoulder. The sudden brightness of the room overwhelmed me and my vision blurred, but the voice was undeniable.
"Meg?" There was a yes, but someone else pushed her out of the way, or rather ran into her in his hastiness.
"Goodall!" Willum sputtered my nickname, "I hear what you did! Meg got me! Sis and me came over to check on you! You ok?" Small rough hands shook and lifted me, until Meg stopped him, along with vocal opposition from my mom and another, a man's voice that I did not recognize right away.
"Hey, Willum, she'll be okay!" My mom's gentle voice rose above the chatter. She grabbed him, hurried him off, giving him a hug. I knew she would calm him, tell him in smoothing words that everything would be okay. Willum was prone to panic. I did not blame him for his anxiety at all - but others I knew, would not be so understanding. I could hear his younger sister whimpering to my mom.
"Who else is here?" I struggled to adjust my eyes to my surroundings, becoming suddenly clear to me that I was in the same hospital where I had my Omni-tool surgery.
Meg nodded, "My dad is here. You know where my mom is." Yeah. I knew. She was an extremely busy woman. An older man stepped forward, his dark brown hair slicked back and wearing a carefully tailored formal two-piece suit fashioned in a 21st century style. He carefully avoided the intervention being carried on by my mother towards Willum, and regarded me with compassion in guarded eyes. He was a reserved type; I knew I wouldn't hear much from him.
"Hey, Shepherd," He liked to use my last name. Meg's dad always had a way of making it sound super professional, "How you holding up?"
My eyes had adjusted enough to see the full spectrum, along with the tiny makings of a three o'clock shadow on her dad's face. He looked tired, and stressed - but those eyes did not lie. He was concerned. I stretched, wincing, "I'm fine... just got to get used to it." I tried to make it sound casual.
Meg watched her father place his hand on my head, messing up the already stringy auburn hair, "Listen don't push yourself. Don't try to act strong." His voice wavered a bit and I was surprised at the emotion straining against his words. I looked at him carefully now. His thin lips stretched into a smile that appeared carved into place, though genuine. Don't try to act strong, his words echoed in my head and I remembered my bully's words. The strong survive. I clinched my hands into fists, feeling a heat stirring within my chest... "I'm impressed," He interrupted, "You stood up to those kids." His smile stretched wider, "Even though your dad's not here I'm sure he'd tell you how proud he is."
Meg's worried face darkened slightly as she touched her dad's arm, grabbed and tugged it, whispering that they should go, that I needed rest. I said that I was fine, but Meg was adamant, saying that they were busy and that no doubt I needed some time with my mom alone. I watched them leave, staring at Meg's back as the titanium door slid shut behind her with a hiss. I felt cold again and turned in bed, peering at the hospital blankets and pondered the situation. It was odd and irritating. A few minutes after they left it came to me. My dad.
Mom returned to me, Willum following behind with his skinny, dimple-cheeked sister. "Honey, you okay?" Mom tried to hug me, but I pushed her away.
"Why didn't you tell me?" I stared at her with contempt, anger heating its way into my limbs again.
Of course mom would give me an innocent look, "What are you talking about?"
"Dad," I said, barely containing the urge to yell, "He gave himself up to be a test subject. For my Tool." Willum looked shocked.
Mom looked down, biting her lips. I waited, trying to hold back tears.
"We wanted to give you he things, the opportunities we never had when we were your age."
"I don't have to have this!" I said, squeezing mom's arms, trying to make her understand, "The company already has dad on a lease, now you want to tighten it more?" Mom watched as I stood up to hurry into the bathroom. She asked what I was doing. I tried to change into my clothes as fast as I could. She repeated the question again, beginning to stand. I could feel the panic rising in her voice. Willum stayed outside, this time he was calming her down. His little sister came, and grabbed the hospital gown from me. I picked her up and walked outside.
Willum turned and tried to say something to me, but I only had a few words to tell him, "Stay here, Will." I was angry to the point of bursting, but I didn't want to hurt him, to say something that would frighten him. Willum stepped back, nodding. I think he understood, more than I gave him credit for.
"Where are you going?" My mother was on edge now, her eyes flashed with fear and anger, "I am not signing you out! You need rest!" I set Willum's sister down.
"I don't care mom," I huffed, slipping my school jacket over my bruised shoulders. My face throbbed, my left eye swollen from the forceful shove into the ground, "I'm going to fix this."
Mom tried to grab me, tried to bring me back, "You are only twelve, you don't need to fix everything. This is not a machine, or a computer program. There are consequences. We are adults, we make our own choices."
I pushed her away, over and over, somehow eluding her frantic grasps as I headed towards the electronic door. I couldn't let her get ahold of me. I couldn't let her sink all that love and emotion inside me, melt me into some puddle, "Then I'm making my own choice. I'm making this right." I slipped through the door.
I jogged as fast as I could without trying to look so obvious. The staff was very busy today, nurses and doctors hurried past each other, datapads in hand - some talking to parents, others were with patients. A nurse spotted me, called my name, rushed over to prevent me from leaving. I raced through the scanner, a machine built along the walls near the waiting room to track the comings and goings of patients - along with welcome or unwelcome guests. I waited for it to buzz, for the angry red to flicker, telling everyone that a patient was leaving without permission. Instead, it dinged a pleasant blue. The nurse checked her pad, shook her head and left me alone. My mom must have checked me out with the in-room console. She trusted me, which made what I was about to do hurt more.
I passed through the waiting room quickly, where there were dozens of people, but a thin, shaking woman stood and caught me by surprise. Her little boy was pointing at me with excited motions. Standing in my way she trembled, yet there was a reserve of strength hidden underneath her anxious face. A canvas bag was attached to her synthetic pants, the Alliance logo grafted unto it. Was she military? She asked in a careful voice, "Are you Jane Shepherd?"
"I'm in a hurry... what's this about?"
"My son... my son wanted to see you. He said you protected him from some bullies that had been bothering him for a week."
"...a week?"
"Yes," She looked down, and I noticed the same soft boy with big brown eyes that I had shielded from the taunts and threats of that girl's gang.
"Why?" I asked, now curious.
She looked away, unsure, but her six-year-old looked up at me with the same awe as before. His small hands reached towards mine. I didn't understand, but I bent over, taking hold of them again and a equally small smile spread across his face. Then with one hand he lightly poked the left side of my face and I winced again. The boy gasped and stopped.
His mom sighed, seemingly moved, "...His father is a Captain of a couple Cruisers. We traveled a lot even before he was born. We landed on Earth half a year ago." Her son watched her as she spoke, her voice hushed and quiet, "...he's a biotic...When I was pregnant there was an accident aboard one of the Cruisers with their element zero containers..." She looked around, nervous, "Look, he doesn't have many friends and he doesn't fit in with the military kids. There is a program all top Alliance military know about. It's called Biotic Acclimation and Temperance Training... don't tell anyone I told you that."
I listened, focused on every word she was saying. It reminded me of the questions kids were asking at school about element zero and Biotics.
"They came to us, told him our son was dangerous, tried to convince us to give him up. My husband pulled rank and told them to get lost." She looked me dead in the eye, "The others found out somehow and their kids found out. They torment him about it, but he's the sweetest boy..." She whispered thank you twice. The second time with a almost desperate gratefulness. "You are his hero. I came here to tell you that."
I looked down again at the boy and he smiled again. He said nothing, just smiled, "Come on sweetie." His mother said, tugging the back of his nylon vest, "Let's go. Let's not bother her anymore."
"It's no bother." I said, waving goodbye as they left the hospital. I stood there for a minute, almost forgetting why I was in a hurry in the first place. Once I regained the thought however, it re-energized my body and I escaped the hospital, scrambling to get to the Aldrin Labs, but I reminded myself to check up on the boy as much as I could.
Immediately the energy of the building changed when I stepped through. Everyone was looking: turning, looking, then turning away again. The reflective surface of the glass-plated walls showed an angry looking girl with an equally angry black bruise on the left side of her face, the eye nearly swollen shut with a cut above it precision stapled with medi-gel. Holy shit, I thought, I look like a killer.
The receptionist behind the color-shifting desk immediately looked at me like I was a suspect. With wary eyes she looked down at me and spoke in a tone that declared I should be taken outside, "Can I help you?"
"You know who I am don't you?" I asked her.
"Yes," She replied, "Can I help you?" She asked again, almost irritated. Funny how people change, I thought. She'd always smile and laugh when my dad left with me in tow.
"I would like to speak with the boss."
She cocked her head at me as though I were speaking a different language. She shook her head,"Mr. Morales is busy. Surely you understand that."
I stared directly into her eyes until she started to feel uncomfortable, emphasizing the bad part of my face, "I'm sure he can make an exception for me." I didn't care that I was twelve. I deserved to be listened to, especially after all this. I noticed the face was helping in my favor. I was learning quickly.
She gingerly tapped the keys on her command console, logging in, keeping one eye on me. She plugged a wireless comm set unto her ear and spoke in a docile voice, "Jane Shepherd wants to see you." She nodded, then rolled her eyes, "Of course I did, but she refuses - I know..." She put her hand to her mouth, whispering something I could barely hear, "She looks psychotic..."
I held back a smile.
"What?" She stopped, "Sir, are you sure? Okay." She took off the comm communicator, fumbled through her desk and took out a shiny card that she scanned with her Tool, activating something beneath. She handed it to me. I looked at it; it was a key card I hadn't seen before, inscribed with the Aldrin Labs insignia but emblazoned with different numbers spelled out in bizarre code.
The receptionist did not look me in the eye, "Take this, go to the back where the elevator is and use this. It will take you to Mr. Morales office." I took it and did not say thank you as I headed towards the back. To my credit she did not exchange pleasantries either.
Passing all the scientists and businessmen, I swiped the card at the touchscreen for the metallic and glass elongated elevator. I looked up, always amazed at how tall the building was. It seemed to go on forever, fifty floors up. I watched as the elevator smoothly glided down on its electric grid, coming to a stop with a short ring and a VI voice welcoming the passenger aboard. As soon as the doors closed, immediately I was whisked away to the 33 floor. It took several minutes and the music was the same as every other elevator I'd been on. Bland and syrupy, trying too hard to invoke a nostalgia for the 20st century.
Immediately after the doors slid opened, two guards were waiting for me. Their assault rifles held against their chests. One was solemn as the grave, but the other one found this very amusing, "Hey kid, the boss is waiting." He gave a playful shove after I cautiously stepped out of the elevator, "Nice face."
I did not laugh, instead I glanced at him, remarking, "Yeah, I put this on instead of makeup."
The friendlier guard laughed, elbowing his buddy, "Man, I love this kid. Can't wait to see what she says to the boss." The other guard said nothing. He just watched me, as they guided me down the long hallway.
There were other office doors littered throughout, but we headed straight down to the one right at the end. It was a large, intimidating glass door with elegant letters of HEAD CEO painted on it. The solemn guard tapped on it, and then pushed the button on a communicator nearby. He grunted into the speaker, "Hey. She's here."
There came a clanking sound, an electric whir and the door split down the middle, opening with the sides disappearing into the walls. A proud voice asked the guards to wait outside. I noticed that the one jokester guard was particularly disappointed. I hesitated, then entered with the door closing behind me with a hiss.
There was a large desk and an even larger man behind him. He must have been ex-military because he was almost pure muscle with little hair to be had for his extremely close buzz cut. The gigantic glass windows behind him with the fading sun made him seem almost god-like with glow falling around his head and shoulders. With an imposing voice, he said, "Sit." He pointed to the chair before him. I started to sit, but something inside me rebelled against his wishes. I don't know if it was the way he said it, or just the look of him and his dominating posture, but I did not want to listen to him. I stood beside the chair, feeling the fear rise in my belly.
He let loose a grin, "Or stand." He folded his hands in front of him, "I hope you better have a good reason for this, young lady. I am missing several important calls and the military likes to have updates on its merchandise." He touched his face, asking a question with his eyes regarding my condition.
I frowned, ignoring it. I was fighting both fear and anger now, "It is important! It's about my father!"
"Oh yes, your father." The look of amusement fell from his face, "What about him?"
I clenched my fists, "My family did not inform me that he took up being a test subject for your company."
The CEO raised his eyebrow, "I don't see how this is my problem. Your father took the position willingly." He unfolded his hands and placed them squarely on top of the desk, as if preparing for something. There was scorn in his voice, "Aren't you thankful for your Omni-Tool? You can't have everything you want, Ms. Shepherd." I glanced around the room, frustration overcoming my fear. I hated that he was looking down on me. A datapad sat on his desk, along with a pistol, a whiskey glass, and a lamp lit up by the famous crystals from Elysium. I looked down as he continued.
"If you are thinking what I believe you are thinking, I can't just release your father because you say so. Someone has to volunteer for the eezo experiments and the pay is good." He reached for his whiskey glass and took a sip.
He was right. If my dad left now he could completely lose his job. They might surgically remove my Tool, and nobody liked to hire eezo test subjects. People were nervous around anything to do with element zero. It was a fairly new discovery, people were already prejudiced with biotics. But... I had to do something. Somehow, I didn't think he'd listen to me unless I did something drastic. Still, I tried the first option.
"Take me instead," I said.
He almost spit out the alcohol, "What?"
"You heard me," I said again, "Take me instead."
"I don't think so," The CEO retorted firmly, "Your father has already signed a non-disclosure agreement and you are below the required age."
I didn't think. I sprinted towards the thing I felt would hurt him most. The lamp. Before he could react I picked it up and chucked it across the room. He screamed, running for it and grabbing it before it shattered on the ground, "Do you know how much this cost?" The guards ran inside, assault rifles ready, but it was too late. I had the pistol in my hand and I was pointing it... at my head.
Everyone was looking at me with stupefied expressions.
"Don't treat me like I'm twelve," I declared, "I know what I'm doing. I'm young, I'm smart. I'm top of my class. I could do a better job." My hand trembled; my mind racing. What was I doing? Was I crazy? "If you don't replace me with my father you'll have a legal case on your hand and I know what that means. Your whole company will be evaluated." Did I have the guts to do this? Would they believe me? The more I thought about it... the more solid my hand became. My family was the only thing that mattered. They had struggled too much already, if dad got into an accident... it would be my fault. My father was almost like Willum's father too.
"Holy shit, kid," The once happy guard proclaimed, he looked at his boss, "Mr. Morales?" He let down his rifle looking perplexed. The solemn one only said a few words, "Sir, I'd take her." He also lowered his rifle.
The CEO's baffled look disappeared, "Set the gun down, Ms. Shepherd." His voice seemed almost affectionate now. I didn't waver in my conviction, "Do we have a deal?" I asked, insistent.
"Shepherd," He repeated, "We have more than a deal. Put the gun down." There was something in his eyes now that made me relax a little.
I looked over at the guards, "You promise you will not give me over to them?"
The solemn guard instantly raised his hands, "I promise you we will not touch you." The other guard joined him.
I relaxed my arm further, dropping the pistol to my side, "Fine. You gave your word."
The CEO walked over, placing his lamp on his desk on the way over, "You can relax men." He said, nodding to his guards. I fixed my feet on the floor, making myself ready in case he decided to change his mind. He outstretched his arm, "You are an interesting kid and the ballsiest one too I have to say. On my honor as a former Marine, you will have the job." He looked down at me, but there was no ridicule in his voice. He seemed slightly spooked, impressed even.
I looked up at him, astonished, "He can still keep his old one?"
"Yes," He said, holding his hand up, "Now, give me the gun and you can go. They will see you out." I carefully handed the pistol into his huge hand, watching him for any sign of aggression. There was none, except an odd interest in his face towards me. He slipped back into his expensive cushioned chair and watched me leave with his men. He said goodbye, mentioning that he will send me information regarding my start date through my Omni-Tool.
As I started back unto the elevator, the solemn guard stopped me for a minute, "Listen," He whispered, "Be careful, girl."
"Wha-why?" I asked.
"You're just too smart for your own good." He pushed me onto the elevator and as the doors started to close, he waved goodbye.