"So what was with you today? Throwing your gun away during maneuvers is not exactly what Madam wanted to see. She's been in a foul mood lately and it doesn't pay to disappoint her."
Max sat up and swung her legs over the side of the cot, placing her feet on the cold tile floor. "I don't know what happened. I was moving in for the kill when I suddenly had this overwhelming feeling that I needed to get rid of the gun. But it doesn't really matter...the target went down anyway."
"True," Brin replied, "but close combat isn't what you're being trained for, remember? You need to work on your marksmanship...and you aren't going to get any better if you keep throwing away your gun!"
Max sighed heavily, "I'm trying, Brin. I don't understand myself...usually I'm the perfect soldier. But occasionally...I don't know what causes me to do these things."
Brin peered deeply into Max's eyes. "You aren't still having those dreams, are you?"
"No," Max said quickly, "thankfully, I haven't had any more dreams. Sometimes your mind can play tricks on you..." her voice trailed away.
Brin nodded in agreement, "Well, if the dreams do come back, just tell me. I'll make sure you get some meds to make them go away."
The lights out alarm blared and Brin crossed the aisle to her own cot as Max lay back down. Closing her eyes, Max wondered why she lied to Brin about the dreams. She still had them, at least twice a week, sometimes more than that. At first, they had scared and confused her, that's why she had told Brin. But now, they were comforting, in strange way. For dreams, they seemed so very real, but she knew they couldn't be. She had never been outside of Manticore, so how could she has had this life she kept dreaming about? Manticore was her home, not some swanky apartment, high above a nameless city. The soldiers at Manticore were her family, not the people in her dreams. Sometimes Max thought she was going crazy, and after the way Brin had looked at her when Max confided her dreams, she vowed never to mention them again. Wrapping herself tightly in the military issue blanket, Max fell asleep.
Early the next morning, Brin found herself in Renfro's office. Dwarfed by the large mahogany desk, Renfro looked no less imposing than usual.
"What you have for me this morning?" She asked.
Brin stood at military attention, "Madame," she began "it seems we're making progress in the case of X-5452."
"Progress?" Renfro snorted, "she threw away her rifle during a search and destroy exercise...and I might add, not for the first time! She also still refuses to respond her bar code number! How exactly does that amount to progress?"
"True, she continues to refer to herself as ' Max ' and insists on addressing me as 'Brin' but at least the dreams have stopped! And she is following directives, with exception to her aversion to weaponry."
Spearing Brin with one of her infamous ice queen glares, she asked, "And how do you know the dreams have stopped? Because she told you? What makes you think you can trust anything she says? She was the enemy! She deserted, and the only reason she came with 100 miles of Manticore was to destroy everything we've worked for! You really think she's incapable of lying?"
Brin straightened her spine, "With all due respect, Madame. You said yourself that the Reds implant would have a negative impact on her reprogramming. We have managed to wipe her mind to the point where she has no memory of ever leaving Manticore! She has been re-trained to kill with speed and stealth. The only obstacles that remain are her aversion to guns and the lack of bar-code recognition. I would call that progress, Madame."
Renfro clenched her fists, she hated to be contradicted, and Brin knew this. Maybe was time to ' refresh ' Brin's reprogramming...
"Escort X-5452 to the Chamber tonight, I think it's time we tried a new approach with her."
"Yes Madam!" Brin saluted, spun on her heel and trotted off to morning maneuvers, unaware of the experience she and Max would share that evening.