Darkness. A long hallway, gray walls on all sides. Your focus sharpening as you move stealthily, silently through the hallway, crouched low. You can't hear them breathing or moving, but you know the others are at your back. You move in a pack along the gray walls. Ahead, you see a doorway with a frosted glass window. You can hear a guard behind the glass, alone, armed. You do not speak aloud, but silently, through your mind, to the others.
Stay. I will clear the obstacle.
Feelings of assent from the others. They don't move as you approach the door. You stay low against the wall so as not to cast a shadow and alert the target. In a fluid movement, you stand, jackknife your body around, and use the momentum to break the glass and grab the semiautomatic rifle in the guard's hand with one hand and grab the guard's neck in the other.
A moment passes.
The shattered glass falls from the broken window onto the dead guard's glassy, unseeing eyes, his broken neck causing his head to rest at an unnatural angle. You have jumped through the broken window and are standing erect over the body, the weapon strapped across your back. You go to open the door for the others to pass through. The lights burst on in the hallway, and you see your face reflected in the two way mirror on the wall. There is a small piece of glass above your eyebrow, but you don't feel it. You are wearing a fitted black unitard with a number emblazoned on your left chest. You are no more than ten years old. The holograph guard on the floor evaporates in a crackling of digital feedback. The glass remains. An invisible speaker blares.
"EXERSIZE COMPLETE. 4739:SURRENDER YOUR WEAPON AND STAND AT ATTENTION FOR INSPECTION."
You drop the mock rifle to the ground and stand at attention. The others do the same. A voice speaks in your head, not your own.
Success is good. Congratulations, 4739.
You smile slightly, and remove the chip of glass from your eyebrow without flinching. Pain is unimportant. Victory is good.
"Ms. Thatcher!"
The voice of my biology teacher, Mr. Gardner, jarred me from the dream, and I realized my surroundings. I nodded off in bio class again. Shit.
"Yes sir?" I replied, completely alert and awake, placing my glasses, which had fallen askew on my face, firmly back on my nose.
"Is my carefully prepared lecture really that un-stimulating for you, Ms. Thatcher? Do you need some flashing lights and elaborate costumes to hold your attention on the task at hand?" Gardner was standing with his chalk-covered hands on his hips, his head cocked to the side, staring straight at me from the front of the lecture hall. Coincidentally, everyone in the room was also eyeing me, holding back their laughter, no doubt. I straightened my spine, and brushed a hand through my hair.
"Certainly not, Mr. Gardner. I apologize for my inattention, sir. It will not happen again." I replied with a firm look of sincerity planted on my face.
He adjusted his glasses, which were dangerously teetering on the tip of his nose, and turned back to the blackboard. "I'm sure you mean that with all your heart, Ms. Thatcher. Now then, where were we? The definitions of benthic cephalopods and crustaceans, yes?"
Class resumed. Foot firmly implanted in mouth. Life completely futile.
I sat alone under a tree during lunch, drinking black coffee and trying to sketch the images I had seen in the dream. The hallway, the window, the reflection of the girl.
I looked down at my right wrist, and lifted the big bracelet watch that I always wore to cover what lay underneath.
There was a barcode beneath the numbers which to me had no real significance in that I had no idea what it meant. It would have looked like a normal tattoo, except instead of black ink; this one was done in clear, bright white. It had been there for as long as I could remember, which of course wasn't saying much considering my memories of my childhood pretty much begin at age 10, when I was adopted, but I figured that meant that I had gotten it when I was very young.
I had never tried to have it removed, it just didn't seem like a good idea. I just kept it covered by the watch or bracelets or long sleeve t-shirts all the time. People tend to ask questions about random white tattoos on your wrist, especially when you are too young to legally get a tattoo.
Even thought the courtyard was crowded with people eating their lunch, I heard a distinct pattern of footsteps approaching, and closed my notebook. I looked up and saw my friend rushing towards me across the yard, her long black hair swinging behind her in its thick braid.
"Yo dumbass, did you nod off in Bio again?"
Such a sweet mouth, my friend Jana.
I smiled wryly while I refastened my watch, "Dude, what can I do if his constant droning triggers an immediate coma-like reaction?"
She sat down beside me, plopping her bag down in between us and grabbing two Cokes from within. "You can pay better attention, dude. You need to pass his class, it's…you know…important and stuff."
I shoved my notebook back into the recesses of my bag and accepted the Coke with an appreciative nod, cracking it open and taking a sip. "That was convincing, babe. Whatever, it's not that hard of a class subject-wise. I don't even study for the tests. I just hope he doesn't factor class participation into his grade that much. Cuz if he does, then I'm screwed."
Jana gaped at me. "What do you mean 'not that hard'? It's A.P Bio, and you're a sophomore! That's like a senior level class for the MIT-bound crowd, and as much as I love you, I just don't see you going geek."
I slung my bag over my shoulder, and stood up. "I dunno, must be in the genes. Maybe I had genius scientist parents. Who knows?"
The courtyard was starting to clear out slowly, and I needed to drop by the computer lab before gym. Jana got up with my help and hoisted her bag onto her shoulder, pulling her waist length braid out from underneath it. "Could be. I guess you'll never know, right?"
Nothing like a good friend to touch on the very subject that's bothering you, and rub it in a little further. I tried not to let my disappointment show on my face and looked away.
"Yeah. No big."
Jana grabbed my shoulder and turned me back to face her.
"You alright Meg? You seem a little…off."
I gave her my best cheerful face, "Nah dude, nothing to worry about. I'm cool. Just… not sleeping that great."
She smiled and cocked her head to the side. "Tylenol PM. Works every time. Just counter it with a good dose of coffee in the morning, and you'll sleep like a contented drunk with no yucky hangover in the AM."
I patted her on the shoulder. "Jana, what on God's green earth would I do without you?" I hugged her and said goodbye, heading in the direction of the lab.
I sat down at the only available PC in the computer lab and started up the internet. It was ten minutes before the next period, and people were hurriedly finishing off their homework and playing solitaire on all of the computers. I was done with my homework, and therefore had the luxury of doing what I wanted on the computer in my free time.
I opened up my mailbox. The usual junk mail intermingled with a few mailing lists that I subscribed to: The New York Times, a J. Crew discount newsletter, nothing important.
After I had deleted all of the crap, a popup came onto the screen.
"YOU HAVE 1 UNREAD MESSAGE"
That's weird, I thought, I just went through everything. It must have just been sent.
I opened my inbox, and practically fell off my seat. Subj: $&#($&#($&#(
Now, In the seven years that I could remember, I had never told anyone about the tattoo, had taken pains to hide it from everyone, even Jana, the closest friend I have ever had. The subject line was the shift symbols for my numbers, repeated three times. It was impossible that anyone I knew would know the significance of those four symbol numbers.
I looked around the lab. People were starting to leave, the bell was about to ring. Making sure nobody was looking over my shoulder, I opened the message.
To: $&#($&#($&#(
QUESTIONS? I HAVE ANSWERS. GET OPTECH FROM LEFT DESK
DRAWER. DO NOT REMAIN IN BUILDING.IMMINENT COMPROMISE.REMAIN ALERT.EYES OF SCION ARE EVERYWHERE 4739.ESPECIALLY IN THOSE YOU TRUST.DO NOT TRUST THEM.DO
NOT BE SEEN.WILL MAKE FURTHER CONTACT.ERASE HARD
DRIVE. COMPLETE MISSION DELPHI
I had to remind myself to breathe. What could this mean? There's no way that this could be true. Or real! What did it mean, eyes of the snake are everywhere, especially in those you trust? MISSION DELPHI? It didn't make any sense at all. But in a strange way, it did. .
My concentration was broken by the ringing of the bell. I had Brit Lit on the other side of the quad, and knew I was going to be late. I weighed the possibilities quickly, and made a decision.
I reached for the drawer to the left of me, and hesitated momentarily. Then, with a sharp intake of breath, I opened the drawer, and started.
Inside was a small, compact handgun. A Glock .48. Black. Loaded. I couldn't believe was I was looking at. I had never actually seen a weapon up close, other than on a policeman's belt or some other benign and objective experience. Next to the gun was a beeper. It was black, small and compact like the weapon, as if the two were part of a stealthy gift set. It was on, and there were no messages on it.
I reached into the drawer and hesitantly touched the weapon. It was cold. I looked around the room to see if anyone was watching: the lab monitor was busy on his computer at the other end of the room, and there were only two other students at far workstations in the room. I proceeded to pick the weapon up and put it in my lap. I grasped the top of it with one hand, and held the grip with the other, and chambered the first round without thinking about it. I cocked it, flipped the safety off and gripped it with my left hand. A part of me knew what to do; the other part was completely shocked.
I shoved the gun in the big pocket of my backpack, slipping the safety back on. I placed the beeper in my pocket.
I closed down the internet application and logged out of my student account. I changed the access qualification to "ADMINISTRATOR" and quickly typed in the 12 digit password I had learned a few months ago by hacking into the database- for fun, of course. I selected the "CLEAR DRIVE INFO" option and confirmed it twice, and the computer started to run through the erase and shutdown procedure. I knew what I had just done could get me expelled, but I also sensed that this was a time for desperate measures. When the computer lab assistant turned to retrieve something from his printer, I swiftly dashed for the door, making it out before he could notice my departure.
I walked down the hallway, trying to make some rational sense of what I was doing. I was walking through my high school with a loaded gun and a beeper that had just been delivered to me via drawer-mail, and I was following instructions from an unidentified emailer who had just warned me about the 'eyes of scion' and an imminent compromization. I didn't know what to think. I just walked.
I was late for my Brit Lit class, and made my way across the quad, which was partially empty. Jana was walking in the other direction. I ran into her in the center.
"Yo slacker, aren't you supposed to be in Brit Lit now?" She hollered across the quad to me as she approached.
I held my hand up to my mouth in the universal gesture of 'shut the fuck up', and gripped her arm and pulled her to the side of the quad.
"Dude, I really need to talk to you. Something incredibly strange is going on." I whispered to her as we moved to a bench in the quad.
She stopped our progress by standing still, and looking me in the eye. "What kind of strange?" She queried.
"I don't know, but I think I'm in trouble. I think it's about my past.. the stuff I forgot.. or.. I don't know. Something big."
"What do you mean, the stuff you forgot? About your parents? Your life before you were adopted? Holy shit, that is big. Can I help?"
I smiled at her. My best friend. "I just need some time to figure some stuff out. I think I'm going to skip the rest of the day and head back to the.."
As I was finishing my sentence, I heard a distant thrum of helicopters. It was approaching fast, from the LA area. Jana looked at me strangely. "What's wrong?"
Simultaneously, two other things happened. I heard the screeching of tires in the front parking lot adjacent to the quad, and when I looked, I saw four big black SUVs come swerving into the parking lot. And the beeper in my pocket started to electronically wail. I pulled it out quickly, and read the LCD screen.
"
"Comp..Compromise.." I said under my breath as I started to take off my backpack. "Safe egress west exit..okay.."
"What are you mumbling about? When did you get a beeper?" Jana said in confusion, and as I pulled the gun out of my backpack, she gasped. "Now I know that is not what I think it is?"
I looked at the men emptying out of the SUVs and then at Jana. "Listen, I can't explain, but I'm going to have to go. I'll be in touch when I know it's safe. If anyone asks, you never saw me." I cocked the weapon, threw my backpack over my shoulder, and turned towards the west exit from the quad. As I turned, I heard a distorted voice over a bullhorn.
"4739: SURRENDER YOUR WEAPON AND STAND AT ATTENTION!"
Without volition, my body went rigid for a moment, as a sense memory ingrained into my muscles, nerves, everything locked into place. I was paralyzed. I was trapped.
Wait, no! My body felt locked, but my mind was not. I shook my head to clear it, and, fighting the biological urge to stay, broke into a fast walk, then a jog, then a run.
I heard the voice again, calling over the hovering helicopters. "4379 YOU ARE DISOBEYING A DIRECT ORDER. CEASE EGRESS OR YOUR ACTIONS WILL BE CONSIDERED HOSTILE."
As I ran, I saw that people were staring out the windows into the quad, watching me run. I knew that I could never come back here, not after this. Ahead, I could hear another SUV pulling up to the west exit. Fuck, I'm trapped this time.
Just as I was about to reach the gate, I heard a shot fired from behind me. I ducked into a rolling somersault, and torqued my body so that when I came out of the roll, I was turned in the direction of the helicopters, my gun steady in my hand.
I aimed at the helicopter, and my vision zoomed like a camera lens. I fired two shots, one at the pilot and one at the gas tank. The first shot found it's quarry, and I saw the pilot as if I was hovering outside the helicopter, splayed against his seat, hands off of the controls while a pool of red spread on his shirt. I looked down and saw Jana in the middle of the quad, laying prostrate on the ground so as to avoid getting shot in the crossfire. I got on my feet, turned to face the SUV blocking my way, and prepared to fire.
I had my finger on the trigger, but stopped. An arm was protruding out of the drivers side window, and with my zoom-enhanced vision, I could see the white tattoo on it as clear as day. My beeper went off, and I grabbed it.
I weighed my options, and shoved the beeper back in my pocket. As I ran for the SUV ahead, I heard a deafening crash, and looked over my shoulder to see the helicopter plummet into the science building in a burst of flame. I could feel the heat on my back as I dove for the car, hitting the pavement and scraping my face. I turned on my back, saw the passenger door open above me, and a hand descend to help me in. I grabbed it, and threw myself into the car.
"Are you okay? Hello?"
For a moment, I couldn't see, the blaze of the helicopter crash had blinded me momentarily. But I could hear, and when I could see better I turned to face the voice that had been calling me.
I hadn't seen his face in seven years, and much had changed, but it only took a moment for me to connect the first dots of the puzzle that I would find my mind had been obscuring from me.
His name came to my lips as I faded out of consciousness.
"Ban?"