Okay, I know the end of the last chapter was a bit confusing. The first
paragraph of this chapter (and they're always so esoteric aren't they?)
will not explain it. However, never fear, if my muse is kind, all will
become clear as things progress. Any Irishwomen in the audience may
recognize the upcoming reference. In case anyone is wondering, I have a
beautiful Claddagh that my da gave me when I was littler. I hope that you
enjoy. Happy New Years to All.
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Everyone has a purpose. When I was ten, my purpose was to obey. When I was fifteen, I existed to kill. When I was nineteen, I lost my purpose in the blood of my love. I found IT again when I was twenty. I lived to be Max's shadow. To annoy, to offend, to save, and to protect.
Two hours ago, I doubted my existence. I thought to myself. Self I thought, if there is such a thing as a higher being, or fate, then I had to be a mistake. Most people wouldn't be able to rationalize such a decision, but then I'm not like most people. I was created in a test tube. My existence flies in the face of fate, and tells it to kiss its ass.
Twenty seconds ago, I found my purpose again. We weren't all meant to make a difference. We weren't all meant to save the world, and some of us weren't meant to rule our lives. I know now what I need to do. I am the savior of our savior; the willing sacrifice; the soldier born. My heart is not pure, my hands covered in the blood of innocent life, my head beyond saving. Nevertheless, tainted as they are, they will belong to her and her alone.
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We stood staring at one another. Not a muscle twitched, we might have been twin statues of the Adonis. I wasn't worried. Biggs would yield to my decision as he had done for ten years. At last he nods to me.
"If we're going to do this Alec, it has to be soon. Those assholes outside won't wait forever." He sighs and turns his back to me.
"I don't understand boo, what's so damn awful that it's got all you soldier boy's panties in a twist?" Cindy turns confused chocolate eyes on me. I sigh wearily. I don't really have enough time to explain it; but Sketchy, and Normal, and a number of my old co-workers are now regarding me with expressions of intense interest. In a few minutes, I will turn into the perfect Manticore soldier, a creature without compunction or remorse. If I don't enlighten them as to what's going on, it will do more public relations damage than all of Whites bullshit propaganda.
Alec's Story.
"In the year 2004, a Manticore researcher named James Bayhoc found a way to combine his passion for the martial arts with his studies into intellectual suppression.
Over the next ten years, he perfected a series of twelve karate routines known as kattas which he combined with rigorous mental programming. The results became one of Manticore's greatest, non-animate inventions. From an early age, their genetically spliced soldiers would be trained and programmed to respond to a specific series of movements and vocal commands. While they performed the series, they would be mentally suppressing certain aspects of their personalities and higher brain functions.
The results varied according to the levels of complexity of the maneuver. They ranged from the katta of one, which produced a state of tight emotional control and higher focus; to the katta of twelve.
Katta of twelve created the most impressive results. A soldier under its influence felt no pain, showed no fear, responded perfectly to orders, and still maintained the ability to strategize and develop complex battle tactics.
Unfortunately, there were side-effects; the soldier lost that innately human quality which may considered the spark of life. Also, unlike the first eleven kattas, the twelfth was never successfully reversed by Manticore's doctors. The state of repression was simply too deep, the human subconscious buried beyond reach."
"So what, you go all vacant super-soldier?" How could you even consider doing this boy?"
"Look here Mister, much as it pains me to admit it, I have to agree with Missy Miss here. It sounds far too dangerous." Huh, Cindy and Normal as a tag team, today is just freaking full of surprises.
"Aaalec." Until this moment, I had managed to relegate my thoughts of the wounded Max, to the back of my head. She had certainly heard my explanation, even in her present incapacitation.
"Cindy, could you give us a moment?"
"Just a moment though Alec, we need to hurry." I nod at Biggs, and kneel down feeling like a medieval champion resting beside my lady.
"You can't do it." Her bloodshot eyes sparkle with anger and something that looks surprisingly like concern. "Don't be a jerk, I am in no position to bail your ass out of trouble again." That was my Max. We could have been standing by the gates of heaven or the brink of hell and her attitude wouldn't change an inch.
"No Maxie. Just as you gave me no choice in my freedom, I will give you no choice about yours. You can't be caged again. You see, you weren't meant for it."
"Oh and I suppose that you."
"Yes Maxie, I was. For these few months of freedom, I owe you more than you can imagine; but I know now what I have to do. I was meant to be a soldier, we can't all have the good life. Know this, that whatever happens to me, you have meant more to me than anything else on this earth. Goodbye Maxie."
"Damn it Alec No," her voice quakes with emotion or blood loss. "I won't let you give it up." I try to give her one last smirk, but it is more wistful than arrogant. Turning my back on her arguments, I walk towards my future.
Everyone has a purpose. When I was ten, my purpose was to obey. When I was fifteen, I existed to kill. When I was nineteen, I lost my purpose in the blood of my love. I found IT again when I was twenty. I lived to be Max's shadow. To annoy, to offend, to save, and to protect.
Two hours ago, I doubted my existence. I thought to myself. Self I thought, if there is such a thing as a higher being, or fate, then I had to be a mistake. Most people wouldn't be able to rationalize such a decision, but then I'm not like most people. I was created in a test tube. My existence flies in the face of fate, and tells it to kiss its ass.
Twenty seconds ago, I found my purpose again. We weren't all meant to make a difference. We weren't all meant to save the world, and some of us weren't meant to rule our lives. I know now what I need to do. I am the savior of our savior; the willing sacrifice; the soldier born. My heart is not pure, my hands covered in the blood of innocent life, my head beyond saving. Nevertheless, tainted as they are, they will belong to her and her alone.
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We stood staring at one another. Not a muscle twitched, we might have been twin statues of the Adonis. I wasn't worried. Biggs would yield to my decision as he had done for ten years. At last he nods to me.
"If we're going to do this Alec, it has to be soon. Those assholes outside won't wait forever." He sighs and turns his back to me.
"I don't understand boo, what's so damn awful that it's got all you soldier boy's panties in a twist?" Cindy turns confused chocolate eyes on me. I sigh wearily. I don't really have enough time to explain it; but Sketchy, and Normal, and a number of my old co-workers are now regarding me with expressions of intense interest. In a few minutes, I will turn into the perfect Manticore soldier, a creature without compunction or remorse. If I don't enlighten them as to what's going on, it will do more public relations damage than all of Whites bullshit propaganda.
Alec's Story.
"In the year 2004, a Manticore researcher named James Bayhoc found a way to combine his passion for the martial arts with his studies into intellectual suppression.
Over the next ten years, he perfected a series of twelve karate routines known as kattas which he combined with rigorous mental programming. The results became one of Manticore's greatest, non-animate inventions. From an early age, their genetically spliced soldiers would be trained and programmed to respond to a specific series of movements and vocal commands. While they performed the series, they would be mentally suppressing certain aspects of their personalities and higher brain functions.
The results varied according to the levels of complexity of the maneuver. They ranged from the katta of one, which produced a state of tight emotional control and higher focus; to the katta of twelve.
Katta of twelve created the most impressive results. A soldier under its influence felt no pain, showed no fear, responded perfectly to orders, and still maintained the ability to strategize and develop complex battle tactics.
Unfortunately, there were side-effects; the soldier lost that innately human quality which may considered the spark of life. Also, unlike the first eleven kattas, the twelfth was never successfully reversed by Manticore's doctors. The state of repression was simply too deep, the human subconscious buried beyond reach."
"So what, you go all vacant super-soldier?" How could you even consider doing this boy?"
"Look here Mister, much as it pains me to admit it, I have to agree with Missy Miss here. It sounds far too dangerous." Huh, Cindy and Normal as a tag team, today is just freaking full of surprises.
"Aaalec." Until this moment, I had managed to relegate my thoughts of the wounded Max, to the back of my head. She had certainly heard my explanation, even in her present incapacitation.
"Cindy, could you give us a moment?"
"Just a moment though Alec, we need to hurry." I nod at Biggs, and kneel down feeling like a medieval champion resting beside my lady.
"You can't do it." Her bloodshot eyes sparkle with anger and something that looks surprisingly like concern. "Don't be a jerk, I am in no position to bail your ass out of trouble again." That was my Max. We could have been standing by the gates of heaven or the brink of hell and her attitude wouldn't change an inch.
"No Maxie. Just as you gave me no choice in my freedom, I will give you no choice about yours. You can't be caged again. You see, you weren't meant for it."
"Oh and I suppose that you."
"Yes Maxie, I was. For these few months of freedom, I owe you more than you can imagine; but I know now what I have to do. I was meant to be a soldier, we can't all have the good life. Know this, that whatever happens to me, you have meant more to me than anything else on this earth. Goodbye Maxie."
"Damn it Alec No," her voice quakes with emotion or blood loss. "I won't let you give it up." I try to give her one last smirk, but it is more wistful than arrogant. Turning my back on her arguments, I walk towards my future.