11.12.2020

Khan hated Amrit Sohn. It was a bit ironic; Khan was the reason that Amrit hadn't died of genetic complications as a toddler, and there wasn't a moment he spent in the boy's presence that he didn't spend wishing he could have prevented that. Ostensibly, it was because Amrit was an idiot, which, while an exaggeration, wasn't entirely false; Amrit wasn't the cleverest soldier Khan had ever met, but, then again, he was only fourteen. In reality, though, Khan was jealous of Amrit.

Amrit was everything Khan would never be: he was the first truly Indian augment; he was charismatic and likable; he was the best of the best-better, the doctors claimed, than Khan. He was, in short, the face and future of the Indian Augment program, and everyone, from the doctors to the drillmasters to the press, loved him.

Khan, on the other hand, was the ugly step-child of the Augment program; that embarrassing secret that everyone liked to ignore. He's not really one of us, everyone knew. No, you only needed me because your own science was rubbish because you couldn't keep any of your scientists from going overseas to work on other countries' Augment Programs(!), Khan would mentally retort, but never say aloud. It certainly didn't help that Khan acted as though he would rather be anywhere but where he was, but one could hardly blame him when everyone else acted as though they would rather that, too.

And Amrit knew it; the little brat knew who he was and what Khan was. And he always made sure Khan didn't forget.

Just another reason Khan hated India. Just another reason he hated being Khan Noonian Singh.

Another reason why, much as he would try to forget the past and hate everyone who was part of his old life, he would sometimes whisper his old name to himself in the dark.

Joey Conrad. My name is Joey Conrad.

But it wasn't-not anymore. And Amrit Sohn wouldn't let him forget it.

"Hey, Khan," the brat called to Khan as he left the locker room as the training facility to prepare for the training course. Khan silently groaned.

"What is it, Sohn?" Khan hissed.

"Just thought I'd warn you that they've toughened up the obstacle course. Raised the climbing walls about ten meters." Khan furrowed his brow.

"They haven't changed that course for years. Why now?"

"Me and some of the other augments complained that it was too easy." And then came that saccharine look of concern. "You'll be alright, won't you?"

"Why wouldn't I be? I'm as good as any of you," Khan replied. Amrit looked at him condescendingly.

"Khan…it's no secret that you're not…at the same level as the rest of the program."

"Sohn," Khan growled.

"What? There's no use sugarcoating it; you were never going to be a soldier for the British, and that's the only reason you're with us. It's not something to be ashamed of; you can't help that the scientists made you only marginally better than a human." All pretense of friendliness was gone, now, and Amrit was smirking at the elder boy. Khan's hands were shaking with rage, itching to reach for the boy's skull and just squeeze until that enormous head of his finally shrank down to an appropriate size, bone cracking under the force…

But Khan couldn't. Instead, he could only swallow his anger, turn and walk away.

"Go ahead, snub me; rache will come!" Khan stopped.

"What will come?" he demanded, disgustedly.

"Rache-it's the German word for revenge," Amrit said proudly. Khan was less than impressed by the lad's Germanglish.

"Sohn, don't talk out loud; you lower the IQ of the entire battalion every time you open your mouth."

"I'd think that'd make you feel better about yourself," Sohn retorted, but Khan was already halfway out the door, furious. Don't bother with him. Look at the obstacle course-see what they've changed.

Gradually calming down, Khan surveyed the obstacle course. The climbing wall at the beginning of the course had, indeed, been extended by about ten meters. That wasn't the only change made; with growing frustration and irritation, Khan realized that the final tower at the end of the circuit (about ten meters south of the first climbing wall) had been stripped of half its footholds; the ramp that came about halfway through the track was twice as steep and appeared to have been stripped of its rubber grips; and the monkey bars that had previously been the easiest part of the course were now spaced so far apart the cadets would practically need airplanes to get from one to the other.

This was truly an augment's obstacle course, and Khan was furious. It was one thing when they asked him to jog around their kiddy park, but this was not something he would do for them.

"Alright, quit staring everyone, line up!" Halvidar Guthrapoli, the head drillmaster, called. The cadets instantly lined themselves up into a neat, disciplined line, arranged by rank. He could practically hear Sergeant Gregory satisfaction at that. Three years after their first meeting, Gregory still could barely get Khan to care enough about being a soldier to really try, but he had at least gotten the boy to stop openly rebelling. Surprisingly, Gregory was one of the few parts of his life Khan didn't hate. Khan found in Gregory a kindred spirit-a man betrayed by the British government and shipped off to India, where the military would utterly waste his talents.

"You'll be running one by one, as usual. As this is Cadet Singh's last session with us before he is integrated into the regular army, he'll be permitted to go first." And there went the sigh of relief-the best time wouldn't be the first time.

That was when something inside Khan snapped. He wouldn't work hard for these people, but he wouldn't let them think that about him. He would make them eat every word they ever said about him being subpar and below the usual standards.

When Guthrapoli gave the command, he bolted down the track towards the first wall and threw himself up the wall, virtually flying upwards. He made it to the top within thirty seconds, surprising everyone present, but the burst of effort so early was already leaving Khan lightheaded. He wasn't used to this level of exertion, but he wasn't finishing last again.

Suddenly, Khan saw it: the final tower was only ten meters south and three meters up. While that jump was impossible for a human, it might just be possible for an augment. Technically, he would still be completing the course; he'd just bypass the majority of the quarter mile track in a single leap.

Then again, the jump would be difficult even for Amrit Sohn with a running start; there could be no running start for Khan, and, whether due to genetic inferiority or apathy, he had never quite been able to match India's boy wonder physical prowess. And if he failed, the cost would be high; aside from the fact he would certainly have the worst time, that was a 40 meter fall in front of every cadet int he Augment program. Even if Khan managed to survive, his dignity wouldn't.

But today, Khan didn't care. This was the day he would make them all feel like the idiots they were. He turned around to the consternation of every cadet and officer observing, he crouched and jumped.

He didn't hear the gasps of shock from the cadets, the stunned chuckle from the Halvidar, or Gregory's muttered curses and prayers to a God he hadn't spoken to in years that "the pigheaded fool won't fall and crack his oversized head open." He only saw the final tower coming closer, closer, almost within reach when he began to fall. His fingers just barely brushed the platform, but he couldn't solidify his grip.

For a glorious moment, Khan closed his eyes and imagined he was flying. Subpar indeed; he was the only one who could fly.

Then he hit the ground; there was a crunch; an explosion of pain; and the world cut to black.