* * * Chapter 4 * * *

I pulled out the safety pin and threw the small, round object in my hand. I covered my ears just as the explosion filled the room. My back was pressed against a metal wall, protecting me from the fire. Once it had died out, I charged around the corner.

Something popped out of the wall and I yanked out my pistol, pulling on the trigger and shooting the object a few times. Once the figure—which I knew was only a stuffed dummy—had fallen to the ground, I continued on.

Several weapons were strapped to my chest and waist. The scientists were quite determined that I would become a soldier. I knew that was probably their ultimate plan. Get my mind, get my body. Turn me into their perfect, unquestioning soldier.

I ducked under the bullets spraying at me and rolled behind a wall. They're actually going to manage to kill me someday. Not that they would be upset about that.

Finally I reached a small door and ran through it. I took a deep breath and released it slowly. I had survived another crazy day of training.

Standing in front of me was a woman. This one was called The Trainer. She stared at me coolly with her arms folded across her chest.

"I have something new to show you today, Subject S," she said. The Trainer walked up to me and handed me a small knife. I grasped the handle and stared at the gleaming blade.

"A dagger?" I said.

"If you ever get in close hand-to-hand combat with an enemy, this will come in handy," she told me. "A quick jab with this could end a life."

I shivered at the way she said that so casually. Talking about human life as if it was nothing. Wait, if one of us "subjects" was the victim of the blade, I supposed it wouldn't matter to her. We weren't human anyway. Not in her eyes.

"I want to see you train with it," The Trainer said. "We have a dummy right over here. Hold the blade like this . . ."

She repositioned my hands. I gripped the dagger with much more confidence than I felt. The Trainer directed my blows, showing me precisely how to fight with the weapon. She had me jab the dummy in the "heart" a few times—the killing blow.

Once or twice I thought about turning the weapon on The Trainer. How hard would it be to swing around and jab her in the heart? The killing blow that could mean my freedom . . .

But something stopped me. Somewhere inside I wanted to think that I was too good for that. That I couldn't take an innocent life. But I knew the truth.

Something they had done to me rendered me incapable of hurting any of them. I just couldn't. Somehow they had convinced me that they were my allies, not my enemies. And I couldn't convince myself otherwise. My mind was slipping. My mind was not my own.

I jabbed the dummy in the heart one more time.

"Excellent job," The Trainer said. She took the dagger from me and shoved it into my belt. "Don't ever be afraid to use this. It could save your life, Subject S."

"I understand," I whispered. The Trainer began to remove my armor and weapons.

"You have done enough work for today." A few guards entered the room as she finished taking everything off of me. "Time to go back to your cell."

The guards escorted me out and down the halls. It wasn't long before we got back to my cell. I tried to peer into the room that held Subject R, but I was too far away to see through the bars. I thought I saw a bit of brown hair sticking up, but I couldn't quite tell.

I was tossed roughly into my cell and I fell to the ground. My cheek scraped against the metal floor and I winced. The door was slammed shut and it echoed throughout the tiny room.

Gently I got to my hands and knees. I was tired of this treatment. I had thought it a hundred times before, but that didn't stop me from thinking it again.

I'm a human!

It was all I could do to hold back a vicious torrent of angry swears. My emotions boiled inside of me. There. That was proof. I was indeed human. I could feel things!

I clutched my head and moaned. This was a nightmare. What was this? Why were they treating me this way? Who was I? Why did they need me? What made me special? Why was I not "working" properly? Why didn't they consider me a human?

Too many questions that I had no answers to. I would probably never find the answers. The people here wouldn't give them to me. They were doing everything in their power to make sure I didn't find out.

The worst thing was the fact that my own brain held the answers; I knew it did. Somewhere deep in my memories, all the answers were hidden away. If I could only unlock them; if I could only find the key. All my questions would be answered.

If only! If only it would come back to me! But my brain absolutely refused to cooperate. So I was left crouching on the floor with no idea of who I was or where I came from.

Then came another flash through my mind. I saw a dark-skinned boy. He was . . . he was standing next to a man. No, wait, sitting. They were sitting side-by-side. They both looked like they were in pain.

I struggled to remember more of the image, but my brain refused. My breathing quickened. I knew those people! I knew that I knew those people! Who were they? Were they my friends? My enemies?

I was in a forest. Somewhere in the middle of nowhere. There was a . . . a long metal tube nearby. I saw two people standing in front of me. Before I could see them clearly, my mind brought me back to my cell.

"No!" I shouted. "I need to know! I need to know! Who are they? Who am I? Tell me! Tell me!"

"Subject S!"

I glanced up as someone shouted my "name."

"What do you want, Subject R?" I called back.

"I want you to be quiet! Subject S, you will never find out about your past, any more than I will find out mine! It will only hurt you to keep trying! Just give up already!"

I climbed onto the cot and leaned against the wall. Anger ran through my veins, and, unfortunately for him, Subject R was about to become the recipient. "No, I'm sick of this!" I yelled. "I'll find out who I am. I will!"

"You can't! Besides, it's dangerous!"

"It's not dangerous for me, just for all the scientists here who could lose me if I remembered who I am! Which makes me want to remember myself even more."

"You need to stop this rebellious attitude, Subject S. How many times do you have to be told that they are here to help us?"

"No they're not! They're changing who I am! Whoever I was before, that's not who I am now."

"Have you ever thought that maybe that's a good thing? Maybe you weren't so good before you came here. Have you ever considered that? Maybe that's why we're here. We didn't do good things, Subject S. They were forced to lock us up. They were protecting us and the world."

"Did they tell you that?"

"Yes. And I see no reason to believe they're lying."

"Really? Because I do! Every time The Doctor says, 'This won't hurt,' I wind up screaming in pain. He lies to me."

"He's just trying to calm you down. That's just something people say. No one ever really means it."

"No, you can't justify this. Besides, how would you know that people say that?"

"I . . . I don't know."

"There are too many unanswered questions, Subject R. And I know that no one here can answer them for me."

"Well then how do you suppose they can be answered?"

"I don't know! Me . . . I think I can answer them . . . but I don't know how. I get brief glimpses. I know there was something in the past . . . something that will answer everything. I need to find the key. I need to find out how to unlock all my memories."

And suddenly I was standing in an old warehouse. Everything was dark and dull. Several figures stood before me. They were all locked in battle. There were cries of despair and groans of anger. I rushed to do something, but I was flipped over. Pain shot through me.

I gasped and glanced around my cell. "Like that!" I shouted. "I was . . . I was somewhere! There were . . . there were a lot of people! A tall, bald man . . . and people fighting him! And people were . . . were getting hurt! I—I need to make sense of it!"

"Subject S, don't be ridiculous! Whatever your past is, it cannot affect you now!"

"Do you ever remember anything? For even a second? Can you ever remember a different time? Different people? Anything?"

"No!" Subject R roared. "And I don't want to! My past has no affect on me now! I live to follow the orders of our leaders! They control me, and I am satisfied with that! I cannot question. I cannot disobey. I cannot remember. And neither can you! Cut this out before you get into trouble! You have to listen to them, Subject S! You have to do whatever they say!"

"They told me that I'm going to have to fight Subject Q," I said quietly. "And I may have to kill him . . . or her . . ."

"If you need to kill Subject Q, then that's what you must do," Subject R told me. "Do whatever they tell you to do. No questions. No disobedience."

"They've really gotten to you, haven't they, Subject R?" I said after a pause that lasted for a few seconds.

"They taught me things I need to know," he said quietly. "They've opened my eyes."

"They've also shut them in many ways," I replied.

"They taught me what it means to be a soldier. They need me, Subject S, and I will be happy to follow them in whatever they need me to do."

"They don't think we're humans," I said slowly. "Maybe they're right. You certainly aren't. You're just a mindless robot."

"Maybe I am."

"And you won't question it."

"No questions. No disobedience. Maybe someday, Subject S, you will become just as enlightened as me."

"If I may be frank, Subject R, I hope that day never comes."

"If I may be just as frank, Subject S, I hope it does. Now, please be quiet. I need to sleep."

"No promises," I murmured quietly, hoping he didn't hear me. He didn't say anything else.

I buried my face in my knees. Talking to Subject R only made me feel worse. Would I become that mindless someday? Following orders without question? I was already halfway there. I wouldn't acknowledge it in my brain, but I did follow our "leaders" without disobeying them, as much as I wanted to challenge them.

They were twisting me up just like they had twisted him. They were taking my brain. I was not my own person. I had no freedom, no free will, no choice. I was a prisoner.

There was another flash of a few people that I didn't know. They stood in front of me. I didn't even know where I was. It was somewhere with a lot of machinery. It was so quick, so brief, that I wasn't even able to look at their faces.

Forget your wish for silence, Subject R.

I threw my head back and let out a ferocious, gut-wrenching scream, throwing all my emotion—my anger, my anguish, my regret, my fury—into it. It shook my body and I continued it until I ran out of breath. Then I did it again. It was a deep cry that came from the very depths of my soul. It echoed through the room and came back to my ears: deep, dark, and desperate.