Specimen

Riley tells me about the plan for the day as I dress in black fatigues, a dark T-shirt, and a pair of sturdy boots.

“You’ll be working with two other specimens,” she says. “Most of the missions you’ll conduct will be in groups of three. You should find them very easy to work with—you’ve all been given the same programming to help you work together. You’ll each get your tactical assignments, and your skill sets will complement each other.”

“You’re really excited about this.”

“I am.” Riley smiles. “We’ve worked so hard for this, Sten. You’ve been through so much. This is the first real demonstration of what you are capable of doing. There will be a lot of higher-ups watching your performance through the closed circuits. If everything goes well, you’ll be looking at your first real assignment within the next thirty days.”

“What would the assignment be?”

“Military intelligence has some objectives for you,” she says. “I don’t have the specifics. We’ve had some trouble on the eastern border with the Carson troops. They infiltrated one of our new farming communities last month. All those who lived there were either captured or killed. God knows what’s being done to those they took prisoner.”

“I thought Mills didn’t have much agriculture.”

“We don’t. There are only a small number of communities. Their focus is on the plant compounds we can’t recreate easily in a lab.”

I don’t know why we can’t grow actual food instead of this crap.

The voice in my head is familiar, but I can’t figure out why. There’s a brief flash of a dark-skinned man with closely cropped hair and a flannel shirt, but the image fades quickly. I shake my head to clear it.

“Why would Carson take farmers as prisoners?” I ask.

“Disruption of supply lines. We have so few with farming skills. Taking any of them out of the equation can have a huge effect on the overall process.”

Information about supply lines and the best ways to disrupt them flow into my head: destruction of a key point in the route, elimination of transport vehicles, removal of key personnel—strategies feed into my head from the implants placed there.

When I’m dressed and ready, Riley leads me out of the lab and down the hallway to the left. I’ve never gone in this direction though much of it looks familiar based on the virtual mission I’d done before when I was trying to get Riley out of the facility. The main difference is the people. I have encountered almost no one since I’ve been here, and the number of people we pass makes me tense.

I stay close to Riley’s side, slightly behind her. I’m on edge, and I don’t miss the looks I get from the people we pass in the hallways. Most of them are dressed in lab coats, but there are a few in military uniforms. Before turning a corner and heading to a large set of double doors, we pass a pair of men with mops and buckets, dressed in coveralls. We stop in fron

t of them, and Riley enters a code into the keypad on the wall.

The doors open, and we walk through them into a fenced yard. Ahead of us are two other men dressed in the exact gear I am wearing, each with a woman in a lab coat standing next to him. I see Captain Mills behind them, standing with two uniformed men. At the far side of the yard is a large helicopter.

The entire time I have been here, Riley has been my only companion. Aside from the guard escort in the beginning and the brief visit from Captain Mills, I haven’t encountered anyone at all. Though it’s better than the number of people inside the building, the nine people in the yard, including Riley and me, feel like a crowd.

I follow Riley to the other specimens and their doctors. The first one, a woman with long, straight black hair and caramel-colored skin turns to Riley and smiles.

“Good to see you again, Dr. Grace. I’ve heard a lot about your specimen.”

I glance between the women, feeling a little like a showpiece on a shelf. The specimen with her is standing just behind her right shoulder. It’s the same position I’ve taken up behind Riley.

“I’m very pleased with his performance,” Riley says as she shakes the other woman’s hand. “I know there was some doubt about the methods, but I think you’ll see how much they’ve paid off.”

Riley turns to me.

“Sten, this is Dr. Shweta Rahul.”

I nod toward the woman but say nothing. She doesn’t address me, just looks me up and down before turning back to Riley.

“I’m sure he’ll work well with Isaac.” She reaches out and takes the man beside her by the hand, guiding him next to her. I tense as he shortens the gap between himself and Riley, and my attention sharpens. I don’t want him too close to her. From the look on his face and his squared shoulders, he doesn’t want me near Dr. Rahul either.

“Specimen seven-two,” Dr. Rahul says, “this is specimen fourteen.”

We look at each other before slowly reaching out and shaking hands. He’s my height with a similar build, sandy blond hair, and a scar over his left cheek. He doesn’t make a move to touch Riley, which is good. I don’t want his hands on her. If he made a move toward her, I might kill him, but he doesn’t.

The doctors take a step away from us to speak with each other. The other specimen’s shoulders drop slightly, and we both relax when the women are a few steps away from us.

“She calls me Isaac,” he says, nodding his head toward Dr. Rahul.