Chapter 4: Dreams of a Life once Gone
Bliss.
Perfect Bliss.
It was a feeling unlike anything she'd ever experienced. In fact- it was the only feeling she'd ever experienced.
Slowly and with heavy eyelids, she awoke on what felt like a silver platter of sorts. The cold of the stainless steel that pressed against her bare skin faded as her internal temperature began to increase and disperse across the impressionable material.
Ah. She thought. Naked?
She was as stiff as the steel she laid on. Only her eyes offering a semblance of independent movement. They sluggishly turned from one corner of the room to the next, desperate to analyze her rather barren surroundings.
"Ma'am! This one is awake!" called out a young woman. She approached, carefully taking notes on a tablet.
A much taller woman approached from behind, "Interesting." the tall woman said, "She's early."
The smaller woman nodded fervently, "Yes. It's fascinating. Her body heat is quick raising to optimal levels as well."
The tall woman pulled the tablet down, "No need for the analysis. This isn't terribly uncommon."
The small woman cocked her head, the veil that covered her face swayed in kind, "Really? What causes this to happen, then?"
The taller woman frowned, the impatient taps of her heels echoing the metal box the three of them were in as she considered the best words to describe the phonemena.
"These, 'early birds' are typically a result of some neuro-diversity in their system. It can vary as to what exactly the cause is, but generally speaking, it means they have more neurological activity to some degree." she said, relaxing her taps.
The short woman looked up in amazement, turning her gaze back to the subject, and pulling close, "She looks so…. Healthy!"
"Healthy, but underdeveloped. She'll need additional training and fostering to ensure proper performance." the tall woman said.
The smaller woman, jolted to attention, jotting down the requests of her superior. She nodded in affirmation, "Do we request this now?"
The tall woman shrugged, "I suppose now is fine. They typically take their sweet time processing our requests anyway…" she trailed off, suppressing her frustration with a lack of interest.
Excited, the short woman quickly walked to the nearest terminal and began typing out the request proper.
The tall woman leaned in close pressing her hand against what was apparently a glass shield between the two, "Personally type 'Thirty-three', hrm? First of your kind. Let's see what great things you can do."
Thirty-three fell through the steel, the image of the woman growing smaller and smaller.
She blinked.
"Thirty-three!" a fellow android called out.
Thirty-three snapped to attention, her vision blurred by the intense focus. It cleared just as her sparring partner decked her in the face.
She blinked again. She was flat on her back, a pain shooting down from her head through her spine.
She shuttered.
"You need to pay attention, Thirty-Three!" her partner, Twenty-Two, scolded. "At this rate, you'll need even more processing!"
Thirty-Three blinked, sighing, "I'll probably need it anyway." she struggled to sit up. Her spine tingled with a stressful sensation. She shuttered again.
"With that kind of thinking, I might as well leave you to the wolves." Twenty-Two said.
Thirty-Three sighed deeply. She leaned forward, pressing her hands off the edge of the large training mat, and on the steel flooring of the bunker's small, yet effective training facility.
She jolted to her feet, her right fist clenched. Using the momentum from the motion, she swung her fist upward and cracked it on her partner's jaw.
The two androids recoiled in pain.
"Son of a- bitch!" Twenty-Two cried.
"God- dammit!" Thirty-Three bellowed in kind, clutching her fist.
It wouldn't be long before their instructor took them both aside and scolded them on proper fighting procedures.
The two listened to the drabble of dryly regurgitated operations and the order in which they were to be performed. Ultimately being ordered to sit down and wait as the instructor considered their punishment.
The awkward silence was painful. Thirty-Three sat, fiddling with her thumbs and fidgeting in her seat.
After a few more moments of unbearable silent solitude, her partner decided to speak up.
"You know, that was a good punch. Hurt like hell, though." she chided, rubbing her chin.
"That's the point, if I understand right." Thirty-Three retorted as she rolled her eyes.
"You know what that means though, right?" her partner said.
"I don't." Thirty-three responded.
"It means you owe me a rematch. No more dirty tricks."
Thirty-Three clicked her tongue, turning her head to the ground. "It wasn't a trick, I just- phased out for a second." she shook her head.
"Maybe you need to get it checked?" her parter asked.
"Maybe…"
Thirty-Three blinked. Visions of a vast meadow and a lone flower softly wofting in the wind flashed through her head. It reminded her of the plateau she and 6H first entered the island on.
On recalling 6H, the scene faded away.
A new scene came into focus. She and her Twenty-Two were sparring alone. The rest of the units were busy with their assigned missions, as machine activity had recently began to ramp up.
Thirty-Three clashed blades with her partner. The two struggled for only a moment, using the precious time to calculate what and how they would move next.
With an explicitly deliberate stumble to the side, Thirty-Three hit the ground rolling. She dropped her blade and resummoned it as she quickly regained her footing, swirling back around and pressing it again her partners throat.
Twenty-Two sighed, "Dammit…"
Thirty-Three released her blade, letting it fade in a showy flash. "You OK?" she asked, "You seem distracted."
"I'm fine." Twenty-Two wiped the sweat that formed from the exercise. She collapsed to the floor, setting cross-legged. "Just tired, is all."
Thirty-Three opted to follow suit and sit down across.
"You know," Twenty-Two started. "It won't be long before I get my designation and get sent off into the field."
Thirty-Three nodded slowly, "Yeah. I know."
"It's been fun. For as repetitive and boring training like this can be." Twenty-Two smiled sadly.
"I guess you were right, in the end." Thirty-Three looked down at the padded floor, avoiding eye contact.
"How so?" Twenty-Two asked.
Thirty-Three stayed silent. A lump in her throat forming from the guilt of even bringing it up. It wasn't something she expected Twenty-Two to remember. But it stuck with her none the less.
She cleared her throat. "It doesn't matter."
Twenty-Two raised an eyebrow. Typically, she was sharper than Thirty-Three would give her credit for and would immediately pounce on the opportunity to dig deeper. But, given the sour mood the two were in, she decided to let it be.
"What designation are you hoping for?" Thirty-Three asked. In truth, she didn't actually care. They both knew that. This was simply an attempt to change the subject.
"I'll probably end up being a battle unit. Most of us are, nowadays." Twenty-Two said. "Command is so reckless with us, though. So who knows how long I'll last." she chided.
"Command is stressed as is. The machines have been only increasing in activity the past year or so." Thirty-Three said, an unusual air of level-headedness sprouting.
Twenty-Two starred at Thirty-Three. A sense of understanding washing over her.
She sighed, "If nothing else, you're certainly going to give your next partner a run for their money."
Thirty-Three grimaced, "Maybe but-" she hesitated, "It won't be the same."
"I'm sure you'll get along fine. Just don't be so uptight." Twenty-Two bumped shoulders with Thirty-Three, trying to loosen them both up.
"That's not what I mean-" Thirty-Three catches herself, trying to best articulate her thoughts into words. "They're not going to be you…"
Twenty-Two melted. Her expression softening to that of sadness. Thirty-Three was unusually personal today. She wasn't sure if she wanted her to stop.
After a moment of soaking in the silence, Twenty-Two worked up courage to respond. "I hope they wouldn't be me." she said. "We may be disposable. But we're not replaceable. And I think that especially applies to you, Thirty-Three."
A warm and reassuring smile formed on Twenty-Two's face. It was a fleeting yet special moment to Thirty-Three. She blinked. Unsure how to process the foreign feelings.
"Yeah." she said, nodding along, "I agree…"
The androids sat and talked about miscellaneous topics until another group of trainees entered, signaling their leave.
The display faded from Thirty-Three's consciousness as she began to wake up from her hibernation.