Chaos Theory – Chapter 17

Curious Developments

2020, 30 miles north of Seattle , Washington – Manticore Facility

“Get her out of here. We’re done.”

The words were distorted, as if being spoken in slow motion. Max tried to focus, but each time she opened her eyes the blinding white light burned, causing her to tear, and she shut them tightly.

The technicians were hastily removing probes and wires, one going so far as to rip the intravenous drip from her wrist. The pain was constant and the only new sensation brought on by the cruel act was the feeling of warm blood trickling down the inside of her arm. 

Everything hurt. Max couldn’t recall the last time her body had ached so badly, and she’d been in a good many fights over the years. It felt like she’d been hit by a train and any movement was agony in its purest form. Her mouth, lips and tongue were practically shredded from all the times she’d bit herself to keep from screaming.

She’d been jolted repeatedly with electrical shocks. Every inch of her had been prodded and cut into by any number of instruments she couldn’t even begin to name, things that you’d see in the worst horror flicks. She was bruised and bleeding and her skin was peppered with cuts and needle marks. Her head swam and her vision was blurred from the assortment of drugs that had been administered to her. Max had no idea how much time had passed since her capture, just that it felt like forever.

The restraints came off her ankles only to be replaced by the strong grip of an orderly, while another released her wrists. Hands slipped under her arms and she was raised up off the cold, metal table. She relaxed slightly as she savored the feeling of cool air on her mottled skin, but the relief was short-lived. Moments later, Max found herself in a heap on the floor where she had been unceremoniously dropped.

Just then, a guard entered the room and barked at her, causing her sore ears to ring painfully. “452, come with me.”

She rose to her feet with great difficulty. Somehow she’d survived Psy-Ops intact. It was re-indoctrination she was dreading. The brainwashing was yet to come. She shuffled down the corridor with the guard and they approached the isolation ward. Time in solitary was just what she needed to lick her wounds away from Manticore’s all-seeing eye.

The guard opened a cell and shoved her roughly inside. A loud ‘crack’ sounded as her head hit the wall. She teetered, coming unbalanced as a wave of dizziness came over her. She sank down onto the lumpy mattress, the bed being the sole piece of furniture there. The springs cut into her back and she winced. Too tired to move or find a more comfortable position, Max closed her eyes and gave in to exhaustion.

They were running through the trees, snowmobiles closing in on them fast. 

“Max, come on!” Ben gripped her arm tightly and pulled her after him, blurring as quickly as his 10 year old legs could carry him. Max stumbled after him, her toes turning blue from the cold. If not for the cuts on her feet, leaving a trail of blood behind them, she knew they would have evaded their pursuers long ago. 

Ben grabbed her by the waist and threw her across a stretch of ice. She tumbled to the ground on the other side, watching as her brother came flying through the air. She breathed a sigh of relief when he landed on his feet beside her, graceful as a cat. 

The snowmobiles were switching gears, preparing to cross the ice after them. Max could hear the changes, each sound in the silent forest echoing loudly in her ears. Ben reached out a hand and she took it, holding on tight, for she knew that without him she would have already been caught.

They raced through forest, their destination in clear sight, the rest of their unit already waiting at the finish line. Max began to trip over her own feet, the knowledge of her failure, of being the cause of Ben’s failure, stirring guilt deep in her heart. Trainer Hastings would punish them. And Colonel Lydecker would be so disappointed.

Ben clutched her hand so hard the bones cracked as he swung her around to avoid the guard who came sledding through the bushes. It was a narrow escape. Panting hard, she got her second-wind, especially now they’d had such a close call.

“C’mon, Ben!” she called as she sprinted toward Jondy and Krit, whose hands were outstretched and ready to pull her past the finish line. She glanced over her shoulder to see Ben close on her heels.

As Max fell into Zack’s arms, a loud ‘thwack’ resounded. The entire unit spun around to see Ben trip over a stone, banging his head on the hard ground. A large net settled over him, pinning him down.

Hastings smiled evilly as he tapped his baton on his left palm. He stepped forward, covering the few meters between the finish line and Ben’s fallen body in seconds. He turned back to the unit and spoke in a chilling voice.

“Deviating from the course, subtract 2 points. Failure to avoid capture, another 3 points. Failure to complete the course, 3 points more. 452 and 493 are officially the lowest scorers in this unit.” Turning to the guards he cued them to begin beating Ben. “Team F will be punished for their failure. Take 452 and 493 to the pit. I want them logged for 3 days. As for the rest of you,” he looked at the remaining members of Unit 5, “I think some time in the tank is in order. Seeing as your times are down today, we’ll make up for it in the tank…an extra 20 seconds should do the trick. Those of you who manage will only have 50 laps to run afterwards. Assume formation and fall out!”

Lydecker stood off in the distance. Max could see the scowl on his face. But above all else, she could hear Ben’s whimpers as they dragged him by his feet through the icy snow.

The tired soldier had been eased awake by the sound of soft cries and whimpers followed by a heavy thump. He peered through the darkness and into the next cell.

Max sat up suddenly, eyes snapping open, gasping for breath. Somehow she had ended up on the floor. She eased herself into a sitting position, her back against the side of her bed. Tears streamed down her face, and she wiped at them with the back of her hand.

Her dreams were more frequent of late, flashbacks and memories of Manticore that had long been buried deep in her mind. The images were painful and unrelenting. She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself, but the shudders increased, and tremors shook her small frame.

494 watched as his neighbor started to shake in earnest. He recognized the onset of a seizure as easily as any other X5; they were all defective that way.

As the shaking increased, he rose quietly from his bed and faced his cell door. Gripping the bars in either hand he pressed his face forward and called for help.

None was forthcoming. He lifted his eyes to the camera in the corner of the room and paused a moment. Quickly gathering his blanket, he tossed it at the camera where it landed on target, covering the lens. He knew it would be only a few short minutes before the guards would come running.

They didn’t disappoint. 

“494, what the hell is that?” Franz, the tall, African-American guard that 494 had done business with on many occasions asked, pointing at the covered camera in his cell. His partner, Davies, a short, thick-necked man with yellow teeth, stood back a few feet and stared.

494 shook his head in disgust. “I tried to call for help, but y’all ignored me. Figured this might get your attention.” He pointed to the cell next to him and the guards’ eyes fell on Max. “She’s having a seizure, dammit! Do something!”

Davies ran to get medical assistance and Franz radioed the brass. It was common procedure to alert the top guns to any medical emergency.

Lydecker came running down the hallway, following closely behind the medic and oblivious to the incredulous look on 494’s face. He entered Max’s cell and waited as the technician lifted Max off the floor and placed her on the bed. He then administered an injection. When the tremors finally subsided, the medic took his leave and Lydecker gingerly took a seat on the edge of Max’s bed. Lydecker reached out and brushed the sweat-soaked strands of hair from her forehead.

494’s mouth dropped open as he heard Lydecker whisper. 

“How are you feeling, Max?” Max? What the hell was that all about? Since when does Manticore call it’s soldiers by anything other than their designations?

But the soldier’s jaw really hit the floor when he heard her reply.

Max swatted Lydecker’s hand away. “Like shit, and no thanks to you, you bastard!” Even in the darkness, 494 could see her eyes glittering with hatred and the anger in her voice was almost palpable.

Lydecker pulled away, slightly taken aback at Max’s words. She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She got to her feet, legs still a bit shaky.

“You call us your kids. But you knew, you had to have known that bleached-blond Pit-bull ripped my body apart! What, Jack wasn’t enough, Deck? Is that why you wanted us all back?” She faced away from him, hands clenched at her sides.

“Max, that’s not it at all.” He looked at her sadly and shook his head. “You’ll be escorted to your new unit at the end of the week to commence training.”

Max whipped around, shocked at this revelation. After a moment she planted her hands on her hips and smiled slightly. Her words dripped with sarcasm.

“What, no brainwashing, Deck? Aren’t you gonna reprogram me to be a Manticore robot? Your pet poodle? Don’tcha wanna tame me?”

Lydecker leaned in and spoke in a low tone. 494 cocked his head and strained to hear what was being said.

“Why would I go do something like that?” he raised an eyebrow, flashed her a sly smile and winked.

Max didn’t know quite what to make of that. But her eyes sparkled and her face showed reluctant admiration.

Lydecker left. 494 settled back into the shadows and sat down to think. The situation was curious. Very curious indeed.