The Never-Never
*
II - Learning
*
"We fed you information through electrodes directly into specified areas of your respective brains," Dr. Clark - the project director - explained to the twin clones, both of whom were seated in two small, hard-backed chairs in the fore of a blackboard coated with chalk dust and etchings. "Unfortunately," she added as an afterthought, "due to your premature births, the information is incomplete." A harsh jerk and several falls of dust later, two large, thick books - manuals, really - were dropped heavily into their laps.
"What's this?" Ry asked, tone polite.
"It's huge," Diabla deadpanned.
"This," Dr. Clark glared at a scowling Diabla and smiled at a confused Ry, "is the text you will be reading on the trip to the current location of the NSA strike force tracing after Zeta and a runaway named Rosalie Rowan. You have both been given photographic memories, so the information should be stored away rather neatly in your little heads until you need to use it."
"So?" Diabla drawled sardonically. "Why should we care?"
Dr. Clark resisted a strong impulse to reach over and throttle the dark-haired girl.
"You will learn how to handle NSA weaponry, vehicles, tools, etc. as well as proper protocol of the NSA. And that, my dear Diabla, is only the beginning."
"Who is this Rosalie Rowan?" Ry spoke up softly, staring blankly down at the thick book still on her lap. "Who is she...?"
Dr. Clark sighed.
"Rosalie Rowan," she began clearly, "is your donor. You are her clone."
Ry sank back in her chair, tracing designs on the book's cover.
"Who's my donor?" piped up Diabla, curiosity obvious on her Asian features.
"Agent China Lee," replied the doctor, briskly, "of the NSA strike force you are being sent to. She is the partner of one Agent Hunter West and you two will be working with them."
"Question," was Diabla's response. "Can we do anything special?"
"Yes," came the swift response, "as a matter of fact, you can. You two are physically advanced. You are faster, more agile, and stronger than humans as a whole. If one were to compare, say, Ry with Infiltration Unit 07, they would each have the same amount of physical power as the other. Same goes for you, Diabla." Dr. Clark took her glasses off and massaged the skin at the corners of her grey eyes, placing her spectacles back on after a moment. "Probably the only thing you can't do is sprout weapons from your various limbs and fly."
"Cool," Diabla grinned and Dr. Clark grinned, too.
"Will we have to hurt people?" Ry's voice broke through. She looked hesitant, her teeth biting her bottom lip anxiously. "I don't want to hurt anyone."
Diabla rolled her dark eyes, sweeping a small hand through her mid-back long hair. "Who cares?" she answered snidely in the form of a question. "If somebody gets in the way," she formed a pretend gun with her index fingers and her thumbs, "blam. No big deal."
Ry felt queasy.
"Ry," Dr. Clark started gently, moving into a crouch before the small blonde girl, "the only object you have to capture or destroy is Zeta and Zeta is merely a robot. There's no reason for you to feel guilty. Robots don't have emotions." Waiting to see Ry's reluctant nod, the silver-haired woman smiled.
Straightening herself up, Dr. Clark turned to a cluttered desk behind her, obscured by the poor lighting of the basement room and the musty air. She rooted through the contents flung willy-nilly over the wooden desk, finally exclaiming an "ah-ha!" and whipping out three photos.
"This," she began grandly, "is Rosalie Rowan." She handed the photograph to Ry, who stared sadly at the young man and woman in the picture. "The man she's with, in the dark violet coat, is Zeta's favorite disguise. They're rarely seen apart, this 'Ro' and Zeta. Ro is about fifteen years in age."
"What's the other stuff?" Diabla asked curiously.
Dr. Clark smiled, saying, "I was getting to that. This picture is for you, Diabla." She slipped the photo to the ruder of the two girls. "The woman in this is China Lee, and the red-haired man is Hunter West. Both are about twenty."
"They don't look it," Diabla commented dubiously.
Dr. Clark shrugged and held out the final photo to Ry.
A young boy, a preteen, no doubt, in a labcoat with tan skin and dusty brown hair was the focus of this one.
"This," Dr. Clark smiled grimly, "is Bucky. He's a twelve-year old super-genius with one of the highest IQ's in the world itself. Sadly, he behaves like a spoiled brat. He's obnoxious, precocious, and he has shown signs of having a crush on Ro. This has actually led him to assisting Zeta in evading or destroying NSA property." She looked pointedly at Ry. The teenaged girl wished, fervently, that the woman would stop looking at her like that; she was scary! "Which is why we need you, Ry, to convince him to work for us. Hopefully, with his intellect, we might be able to have a greater chance on capturing Zeta."
"Why me?" questioned Ry, though she felt she already knew the answer.
"If he has a crush on Ro, it shouldn't be too hard for her younger clone to trick him," Dr. Clark sneered deviously, "now would it?"
Ry dropped the picture of Zeta and Ro, opting to study the one of Bucky more closely.
"Hello," she murmured, voice barely audible, "Bucky."
Her fingertips traced over the two-dimensional facial features and the smug smirk the boy held proudly on his ash-smudged face, a pair of dirty protective eye gear pushed up into his hair.
"My name is Ry..."
*****
Oooo. Yay. Are you bored yet? If you're bored, feel free to depart forever from the weird and unusual fanfiction I am forever doomed to write! Hey, maybe next chapter'll actually have something interesting in it...maybe next chapter'll be longer than two or three pages. Sheesh. Type me a message in that little box down there that they give you to flame people!
*****
*
II - Learning
*
"We fed you information through electrodes directly into specified areas of your respective brains," Dr. Clark - the project director - explained to the twin clones, both of whom were seated in two small, hard-backed chairs in the fore of a blackboard coated with chalk dust and etchings. "Unfortunately," she added as an afterthought, "due to your premature births, the information is incomplete." A harsh jerk and several falls of dust later, two large, thick books - manuals, really - were dropped heavily into their laps.
"What's this?" Ry asked, tone polite.
"It's huge," Diabla deadpanned.
"This," Dr. Clark glared at a scowling Diabla and smiled at a confused Ry, "is the text you will be reading on the trip to the current location of the NSA strike force tracing after Zeta and a runaway named Rosalie Rowan. You have both been given photographic memories, so the information should be stored away rather neatly in your little heads until you need to use it."
"So?" Diabla drawled sardonically. "Why should we care?"
Dr. Clark resisted a strong impulse to reach over and throttle the dark-haired girl.
"You will learn how to handle NSA weaponry, vehicles, tools, etc. as well as proper protocol of the NSA. And that, my dear Diabla, is only the beginning."
"Who is this Rosalie Rowan?" Ry spoke up softly, staring blankly down at the thick book still on her lap. "Who is she...?"
Dr. Clark sighed.
"Rosalie Rowan," she began clearly, "is your donor. You are her clone."
Ry sank back in her chair, tracing designs on the book's cover.
"Who's my donor?" piped up Diabla, curiosity obvious on her Asian features.
"Agent China Lee," replied the doctor, briskly, "of the NSA strike force you are being sent to. She is the partner of one Agent Hunter West and you two will be working with them."
"Question," was Diabla's response. "Can we do anything special?"
"Yes," came the swift response, "as a matter of fact, you can. You two are physically advanced. You are faster, more agile, and stronger than humans as a whole. If one were to compare, say, Ry with Infiltration Unit 07, they would each have the same amount of physical power as the other. Same goes for you, Diabla." Dr. Clark took her glasses off and massaged the skin at the corners of her grey eyes, placing her spectacles back on after a moment. "Probably the only thing you can't do is sprout weapons from your various limbs and fly."
"Cool," Diabla grinned and Dr. Clark grinned, too.
"Will we have to hurt people?" Ry's voice broke through. She looked hesitant, her teeth biting her bottom lip anxiously. "I don't want to hurt anyone."
Diabla rolled her dark eyes, sweeping a small hand through her mid-back long hair. "Who cares?" she answered snidely in the form of a question. "If somebody gets in the way," she formed a pretend gun with her index fingers and her thumbs, "blam. No big deal."
Ry felt queasy.
"Ry," Dr. Clark started gently, moving into a crouch before the small blonde girl, "the only object you have to capture or destroy is Zeta and Zeta is merely a robot. There's no reason for you to feel guilty. Robots don't have emotions." Waiting to see Ry's reluctant nod, the silver-haired woman smiled.
Straightening herself up, Dr. Clark turned to a cluttered desk behind her, obscured by the poor lighting of the basement room and the musty air. She rooted through the contents flung willy-nilly over the wooden desk, finally exclaiming an "ah-ha!" and whipping out three photos.
"This," she began grandly, "is Rosalie Rowan." She handed the photograph to Ry, who stared sadly at the young man and woman in the picture. "The man she's with, in the dark violet coat, is Zeta's favorite disguise. They're rarely seen apart, this 'Ro' and Zeta. Ro is about fifteen years in age."
"What's the other stuff?" Diabla asked curiously.
Dr. Clark smiled, saying, "I was getting to that. This picture is for you, Diabla." She slipped the photo to the ruder of the two girls. "The woman in this is China Lee, and the red-haired man is Hunter West. Both are about twenty."
"They don't look it," Diabla commented dubiously.
Dr. Clark shrugged and held out the final photo to Ry.
A young boy, a preteen, no doubt, in a labcoat with tan skin and dusty brown hair was the focus of this one.
"This," Dr. Clark smiled grimly, "is Bucky. He's a twelve-year old super-genius with one of the highest IQ's in the world itself. Sadly, he behaves like a spoiled brat. He's obnoxious, precocious, and he has shown signs of having a crush on Ro. This has actually led him to assisting Zeta in evading or destroying NSA property." She looked pointedly at Ry. The teenaged girl wished, fervently, that the woman would stop looking at her like that; she was scary! "Which is why we need you, Ry, to convince him to work for us. Hopefully, with his intellect, we might be able to have a greater chance on capturing Zeta."
"Why me?" questioned Ry, though she felt she already knew the answer.
"If he has a crush on Ro, it shouldn't be too hard for her younger clone to trick him," Dr. Clark sneered deviously, "now would it?"
Ry dropped the picture of Zeta and Ro, opting to study the one of Bucky more closely.
"Hello," she murmured, voice barely audible, "Bucky."
Her fingertips traced over the two-dimensional facial features and the smug smirk the boy held proudly on his ash-smudged face, a pair of dirty protective eye gear pushed up into his hair.
"My name is Ry..."
*****
Oooo. Yay. Are you bored yet? If you're bored, feel free to depart forever from the weird and unusual fanfiction I am forever doomed to write! Hey, maybe next chapter'll actually have something interesting in it...maybe next chapter'll be longer than two or three pages. Sheesh. Type me a message in that little box down there that they give you to flame people!
*****
