Here's the next chapter of Recycled Heretics.
"Project?" Carolina repeated, interrupting the story for a moment. Her voice held even more distrust than before, if that was possible.
North nodded. "We both felt the same way when we heard it," he explained. "Didn't like the idea of being in another project's custody after Freelancer."
"Have you ever heard of Recycle?" York asked. Carolina jumped a bit at the sound of his voice, though she held most of her composure as she answered.
"Director Church mentioned them," she admitted. "While they didn't trade with Freelancer, they did share ideas and were in close communication for a time."
"That's what Dr. Vladimir said," North agreed, nodding. "Were you aware of what they did?"
"It was... a rehabilitation project," she answered slowly. "At least that's what official records said."
"And they said Freelancer was a research facility," York countered. "Official records can't exactly be trusted."
Carolina looked at him skeptically. "So what was Recycle really about?"
"Restoration, re-creation, and rehabilitation of high value assets and soldiers," North recited. "Basically, they did their best to keep useful personnel working during the war."
"As you can expect, it went beyond that," York continued. "Sometimes they wouldn't arrive on the scene until after a subject was already dead. That's where Vladimir came in."
"Now I'm sure you have a lot of questions, but if we remain calm I'm sure we can get through them." Yet again, the doctors' voice seemed to have a soothing effect on Eric.
Eric leaned back, seeming to be deep in thought. "Alright, let's keep this simple for now," he finally said, relying on his training to remain calm as he searched for answers. "I'll ask a question and you answer, alright?"
"Very well, ask away," the doctor agreed.
"First question, what is Project Recycle?"
"Project Recycle is a Special Operations program funded by the Samson Initiative designed to bring back notable soldiers and personnel from all branches of the UNSC in fighting condition," he rattled off the rehearsed explanation, sounding like a pamphlet at a seminar. "Although Project Recycle has several other minor functions, it is purely a research based program, if that's what you're worried about," He said in a joking manner.
"Alright," Eric said slowly, absorbing the words as he formed his next question. "How does this work, exactly? Last thing I remember, I thought I was dying. Did you use some new medical procedure to save us?"
"Ah, now that's the fun part. Taking a heavy sample of your DNA, we were able to create a hybrid-flash clone of your body, then making sure there were no special abnormalities to take care of; we injected several types of stem cells into the clone in order to make sure there would be no nasty genetic based problems in the future. Though there has proven to be some minor side effects to this, such as cellular regression, muscle memory loss, loss of muscle mass, small things like that that can be fixed over time."
The doctor paused to inhale before continuing.
"Now the tricky part was getting that wonderful brain of yours back together, and thankfully in your case we were able to find various bits of brain matter at the site of your death, most of which contained neural relays with bits of your memory. The rest we patched together using old records, various video feeds etcetera. Sadly, your friend over there had to have a bit more patch work done to him so he may not remember everything, though over time and with the correct input, he may form his own memories of what happen."
Nearly everything the doctor said to Eric was lost on him, biology wasn't his strong suit. Though from the bits and pieces he was able to comprehend, Ben was able to figure out his next question.
"So, we're clones?" Eric said, trying to filter the doctor's words into something he could understand.
"More or less," the red head answered, shrugging. "It's a bit more complicated than that, but if it helps you understand, then yes. You're clones."
Eric took a deep breath. A large part of him was trying to panic at the news, but he fought it down. Now wasn't the time. He needed more answers.
"Alright. I think I understand some of what's going on now. What was that you were saying about side effects earlier? They sound like they could be a problem."
Letting out a hearty laugh, the doctor quickly responded with an accompanying dismissive hand gesture. "Not at all boyo, in short, it just means that your body has been physically regressed into your early twenties, I'd guess around 22 or 23 by the look of yer face."
Eric must have had shock written all over him because the doctor quickly handed him a mirror.
The first thing Eric noticed was his eye. It was perfect; no scar, no discoloration, nothing. He was so surprised by this it took him a moment to see the rest of his face. It was true; he was biologically in his early twenties. He set the mirror down, trying to hide the shaking in his hands as he forced the shock aside, and continued on with his interrogation.
"Doc, I've got one last question," he said, setting down the mirror. "Why us? We're just a couple of old war criminals."
The older man was about to respond when a female dressed in blue scrubs rushed into the room and whispered something into his ear. Whatever it was, it wasn't good news as a grim look sprouted on the doctors' face.
"Ah, I'm sorry gentlemen, it seems I'll have to answer your questions another time." He said as he swiftly left the recovery room.
Eric could only lay there stunned, trying to piece together all the new information he had acquired. It was unreal, both of them had died, only to be brought back and given new bodies. He had to double check to make sure it was really his body.
Picking up the mirror, he hashed a glance at the reflective device only to be reassured that it was indeed him. Brown hair, brown eyes, square jaw, everything was just as it was, but younger. He felt like he was looking at his college yearbook.
"Eric, if you keep looking at the mirror, you might crack it."
"What? oh... hehe, yea I guess so. It's just unreal ya know? I mean one minute I'm slipping into deaths harsh embrace, the next I'm awake and alive in a hospital bed."
"I know what you mean, though I'm still trying to piece everything back together myself," John said in a simplistic tone. "I'm not sure whether I'm lucky or not that I don't remember my own death."
"Take it from me," Eric said, voice far away for a brief moment. "You're lucky."
He let out a sigh as he drew his mind away from the memory and looked around the room, taking in his new surroundings. On the wall adjacent to his bed, there was a holo-clock, displaying the time which by local standards was fairly late. The room didn't have any windows sadly, so the clock was all he had to go on. Like most hospitals, or in this case, a recovery room. Looking to his right, he was greeted with the sight of hospital bed bars, which seemed to enjoy obscuring his vision and given that he couldn't sit up straight at that moment, he had to settle with glaring at it.
He couldn't see John's face yet, but if what the doctor told him was correct, then it was safe to assume that his friend was in the same physical condition. He tried to imagine what a younger North would look like, before giving up. He'd just have to wait and see.
"Hey Eric?" the other man's voice broke into his musings.
"Yea?" the brunette asked.
"What's the Samson Initiative?"
"Well," he said thoughtfully, trying to remember. "I don't know much about it myself, but from what I was able to figure out during my travels it was a program designed to provide funding to various research projects, like our own, during the war. You remember that Chairman the Director used to always complain was breathing down his neck?"
"Yeah," John answered.
"Well, he was in charge of keeping an eye on the project," Eric explained. "Y'know, make sure they were using the money properly and all that."
"Oh," John said thoughtfully. "Hey Eric?"
"Yeah?" Eric asked again.
"I think somebody should fire that Chairman guy," John said. Eric could hear the grin in his voice even from here.
"Think you might be right about that," Eric agreed.
Before their conversation could continue, a nurse walked into the room, the same one from before who had on the blue scrubs. Since John was closest to the door, she went to him first. Reaching down, the nurse pushed down a small cotton ball against the man's arm while simultaneously pulling the needle out. Instantly the cotton ball started to soak up the blood as the nurse held it there for well over a minute.
Walking over to Eric, she repeated the same process, though Eric couldn't help but make a small grunting noise when the needle was removed. He hated needles.
"Please follow me when you're fully changed," the nurse instructed before stepping out the door.
Casting his gaze over to John, Eric saw that he was already up and out of bed. He glanced down at the foot of his bed and saw a basic uniform waiting for him. Quickly pulling on the green t-shirt, digital-camo pants, and combat boots, the pair quickly hustled outside where the nurse was waiting. Without saying a word, the nurse led them out of the medical bay, passing several rooms on the way, one of which Eric recognized as the surgery room. Minutes passed before the woman stopped in front of a sealed door, only to quickly whisk herself away back towards the medical bay.
John silently waved to allow Eric to enter first. To anyone else it would have simply seemed like a polite gesture, but York recognized the reasoning behind it. North was a sniper and used to fighting from a distance. He always preferred to be at the back of an engagement if he could help it.
However, before either man could make a move, the door opened, revealing the strange Irish doctor from before.
"Laddies, welcome," he greeted them distractedly. "I'm sorry to say we don't have much time," he said before practically pushing both of the men inside the room.
"I need to keep this rather short," the doctor continued once the door was closed. "Time is of the essence. Project Recycle is one of the few remaining Special Operation programs left over from the war that is still active and being funded. Now, a long time ago there was another project, one that had the potential to be more dangerous than Project Imbalance, the Spartan Program or Project Freelancer. Its name was Project Heretic."
The doctor paused briefly, expecting to see some sort of reaction from the two men. All he received was confusion.
"It was designed to keep mentally unstable soldiers with greatly needed skills in the field," he explained, "often paired with brainwashed covenant forces. Many of the unmonitored agents have gone rogue, and there is a rogue faction that is seeking something in particular that you may find of personal interest, Mr. Eric."
The doctor paused for breath, and Eric took the opportunity to speak up. "What are they looking for?"
"They are hunting after a former Freelancer agent by the name of Carolina, or more specifically, her AI Epsilon. He may have files that the UNSC needs desperately and the Faction is willing to do anything to get it. This is the reason you were brought back," the doctor explained. "We know where she is, but the UNSC doesn't have the man power to spare to go after her, so we thought you might be more willing."
Eric was in shock. She was alive, after all these years. He almost couldn't believe it, was prepared to call this man a liar, except he knew. If anyone could have survived, it'd have been Carolina. He could hardly think from his joy, but he felt the words leave his mouth.
"I'll do it."
His reaction seemed to surprise the doctor, who had expected demands for further explanation and mistrust at his words. John, however, wasn't shocked at all. He knew Eric would do or believe anything to get her back.
"If he's going, so am I," John said. "I might not be as good without my sister guarding my back, but I can't let the locksmith go alone." Eric gave him a thankful smile, and he nodded in response.
"Very well, then," the doctor said happily. "We're glad to have you aboard, Agents New York and North Dakota. Please, let me be the first to welcome you as official members of Project Recycle."
Remember to check out Chemical Imbalance: Promises to Keep as well.