The sun hangs over the violet sky, illuminating the rocky badlands I call home.
Joseph places a hand on my shoulder, the other gripping his speckled cane. "The trial begins, Shurikit. Today will be the day the hunter becomes the hunted," he says. "From now on, your training will be put to the test."
"Yeah? Nothing new there," I absently reply, hands on my hips. "I can take 'em, no sweat. Same as always, right?"
"As always, huh…" Joseph calmly adjusts his rectangular half-rimmed glasses. "You're certain, then?"
I glare up at him, my intense brown eyes against his tired-looking, also brown eyes. "Come on, no riddles today! Let's just do this."
Joseph half-chuckles and looks away. "Of course, my girl. Do your best."
Soon I'm up in the air, my four slim wings lightly glinting in the sunlight as they rhythmically beat – flappa flappa.
As I scan the horizon, my pupils glint red. Normally I only activate my night vision at night, but sometimes Joseph will pull some tricks…
Hm… nothing. Is this part of the test, somehow? Or maybe he just forgot. I wouldn't put it past him.
I adjust my wings a bit and start gliding on a nice updraft.
Freezing again yesterday, blazing hot today… the badlands really are the worst. Those whitecoats can't handwave everything as 'training', can they? I mean, that's what they've been doing so far, but…
My train of thought suddenly stops. I'm not flapping all of a sudden.
Lack of flapping means lack of lift, as any self-respecting flier knows. And… lack of lift means plummeting downwards. And plummeting downwards means… a date with the dirt… at terminal velocity…
I groggily look around as I continue to fall. This is bad, right…? I should panic… right?
Processing failure! An error has occurred. My current altitude is approximately 3000 meters. System reset pending. Reset failure! An error has occurred. New options are available:
Mumble incoherently as I plummet to my death.
Flap my arms instead of my wings.
Stare at the ground as I plummet to my death.
Count the number of stars bouncing around in my head.
I shake my head, but only succeed in generating more stars. Before I can decide on which option I should do first—
GRAB. I'm suddenly hanging upside down, held by a leg.
"Mugh?" I futilely attempt to clear my head again.
"Heh! He tagged you good." I hear Travis say. "Told you he'd exploit your tunnel vision."
"Travis… that you? Get it off me."
"It's kinda funny seeing you all loopy like this," he snickers.
"Traaaviiis…!"
Soon, Travis dumps me in front of the safe house. After removing the stun beacon from my shoulder, he bops me in the face with it.
"Ow! No need to rub it in, you prick," I grumble. "It was a lapse, you hear? A lapse!"
Travis raises a silvery eyebrow behind his transparent visor. "Sure, buddy," he replies, opening the door. I'm not sure where he got his full-face helmet, but he's the only one of us aeronauts who wears one. It hides his curly grey hair, but not his blue eyes. His skin is also much paler than mine.
I stand up, mind now clear. "The hunter becomes the hunted," I mutter. I still don't know what Joseph meant by that. Did it have to do with the reason for our existence? We've been training practically since we could walk, after all.
"Something's coming," Travis calls. "Are you daydreaming again?"
"No! Shut up." I look to the horizon. In the distance, another aeronaut flies towards the safe house, making evasive maneuvers. Drone fighters are in hot pursuit.
Travis squints. "Oh. I think that's Vernicia."
"Wasn't Rurin supposed to be with her?" I ask as she dives down towards us.
Vernicia hits the dusty ground with a THOOM, then rolls to her feet. Everything save for her freckled olive skin is jet black – from her straight hair to her eyes to her wide angled eyebrows to her wings. "Hey, fellas. Just escaped a death trap; how's your morning going?" She starts dusting off her (also black) skysuit.
"You don't have any weapons on you?" Travis asks.
"Do you?" Vernicia shoots him a look.
BOOF! A bullet strikes the ground. Then another bounces off Vernicia's wings – SPANG!
"Whoops. Inside, inside," I tell them, raising my wings to protect myself. A bullet PINGs off of them. These feel heavier and sharper than the pecking rounds they usually used…
The safe house's door shuts.
Vernicia sighs, crossing her arms. "I've had it up to here with this constant surprise training. Don't you think it's worse than usual today?"
"Yeah," Travis nods. "I wonder if the armory is unlocked."
I observe a bullet lodged in the floor just past the door. "Yep, these are live rounds."
"You think they're finally throwing down the gauntlet? Or maybe it's some kind of special assessment," Travis speculates.
Vernicia taps her chin. "Hm, 'final trial' has a nice ring to it."
The door opens. We all look over to see the fourth and final aeronaut, sporting short brown hair, equally brown skin, and purple eyes.
"There he is," I call. "Hi, Rurin."
"Phew… looks like I'm late to the party," Rurin huffs. "Nothing like a spot of dodging crossfire to start the day, eh? I definitely was not panicking the whole way here."
"We're getting through it well enough, aren't we?" Vernicia shrugs. "Almost like we're literally built for this kind of thing."
I tap my chin. "Yeah… maybe Joseph was serious about it, then?"
"About what?" The others look at me.
"The hunter becoming the hunted. Um, Joseph's words, not mine," I explain. "No idea if he was japing or not, but maybe there's a connection with… you know, what's happening right now."
"Hunted hunters die, Kit." Travis crosses his arms. "You mean to say they want us dead?"
I shrug. "Wouldn't be the first time, right? Even if they're serious this time, we'll handle 'em, same as everything else."
"Lovely," Rurin sighs. "As it happens, I flew past a van on my way here. The usual unmarked sort. Seemed to know the area, too. Think it'll be more hunters?"
"Ideally, it'll be Joseph with more orders for us," Vernicia muses, "but I agree. It's totally more hunters."
How long ago would that have been? I risk a peek out the side window.
SMASH! It suddenly shatters, spraying shards everywhere. The first thing I notice is the silver fist that broke through it – wait, our windows are reinforced! How-?!
Stab
"Ow! What the hell?" I can't see what just stuck me in the neck. Well, actually now I can't see much of… anything…?
"Shurikit! Get back," someone calls. Before I can signal that I'm okay, my vision goes black.
Sensing surroundings. Broken glass detected. I am laying on it. Note: I cannot move. Note: I cannot speak. Note: I cannot see anything. Status update: I am no longer in pain. Conclusion: I am unconscious. System reset pending.
I snap awake. It's too bright! What's this? Where am I?
I try to get up, but my limbs are bound. Why didn't I notice this first? I'm facedown! The table I'm lying on has an opening for my head to dangle. Why is that? What is this place? It's white and the floor is clean. Clean. Clean… wasn't I injured? Was it an injury? What happened?
Stop! Calm down, I tell myself. First, these straps. They're tight, but nothing I haven't dealt with before.
"Don't try it," someone says.
I carefully look around. "Who's there?" I call. I haven't even made any moves yet. Maybe his warning was customary or something. Not that I care…
"I'm serious," he continues. "You won't like what comes next."
Where is he? I hear him, but it's so hard to move… "Tell you what," I say. "I'll give you one minute. If you release me before then, I'll let you live. But if I escape these bonds myself, I will scissor kick your head off."
"Oh? Can you actually?" He sounds more curious than intimidated, which pisses me off. Who does this guy think he is, getting cocky just because I'm strapped down? Just you wait, guy… in one minute, I'll…
After testing the bonds a little more, I begin to suspect maybe I'll need two minutes.
"Listen, Shurikit. There's a charge running through the bonds. You'll be paralyzed long before your two minutes are up," the guy explains.
I grit my teeth. "You know what, I've changed my mind," I declare. "I'm gonna scissor kick your head off regardless!"
"Seriously, save yourself the trouble."
"Grrrgh!" I twist the other way and finally catch sight of him – there! Standing a couple meters away, wavy black hair, slightly tan skin, holding a tablet, wearing a silvery metal armor – the armor! He's the one who attacked us!
And he still has the gall to act all chill! I'll knock the light out of his perfect green eyes if it's the last thing I do, I resolve. Three minutes is all I'll need…
The guy raises an eyebrow. "You think my eyes are perfect? Well, you have to admit, I am gorgeous," he tells me with a coy grin.
"What? Shut up. I didn't – wait, what? I didn't…!" Things begin to click all of a sudden. "You know what I'm thinking! How the hell do you know what I'm thinking?!"
The guy runs a hand through his hair. "Well, I don't like to advertise, but it's a special thing I can do."
Maintaining an even gaze, I begin to think things so vile the author decided not to write them down.
"W-what the hell?" The guy falters. "You're not into that kind of thing, are you?"
"LET ME OUT!"
"Cool your jets!" The guy taps something on his tablet. "Listen, I was only commissioned to run an inspection on your physiology and capabilities. It won't be much longer now that I have everything set up."
"Could you have asked nicely instead of sedating me? Rrgh, I bet you sent those drones after us, too!"
"What drones? You can't just blame everything on me," the guy replies.
"Ugh. Just finish your analysis or whatever. And make it quick." Resigning myself to my fate, I let my head hang. In this position, my light blue hair falls over my face. I'll need to do it back up into twintails later…
"Twintails, huh… well, anyway. Beginning analysis."
Yellow lights beam from the ceiling and walls, sweeping over my body. This whole room is a scanner, the biggest I've ever seen. What kind of people does this guy work for to have a budget like this?
"Hmm… your body is…" the guy pauses.
"What about my body? We aren't malnourished," I tell him.
"I know. But come on, 130? There are middle schoolers taller than you."
"Yeah? I can still fold 'em like paper."
"Well, don't do that," the guy mutters, then continues his analysis.
A few minutes later, he asks, "What are these scales on your wings?"
I look over. "Scales. What do you want from me?"
"Nothing, I guess. I just thought they'd be more like a bird's."
I glare at him. "What's that supposed to mean? We fly as well as they can; that's all that really matters."
The guy looks back at his tablet. "Yeah, but the differences are glaring, aren't they? No down, no feathers at all really, but somehow still airworthy? Not that I know much about aerodynamics to begin with. I guess these scales are doing all the heavy lifting. Bulletproof, too… I guess I should've expected a biotool not to follow conventional biological trends…"
More time passes. I blow a lock of hair out of my eye, and it settles over my other eye. "Are you done yet? I'm bored," I mumble.
"Almost. Actually, can I ask you a question?"
"Will you let me go if I do?"
"Will you promise not to run? It's dangerous out there, and you're…"
"I'm what? Aeronauts are built for danger, moron."
"Yeah, I had a feeling you'd say that." My bonds loosen, then snap back into the table. "Just answer me this, okay? What do you know about–"
"Sucker!" I immediately pop up with a kick to his chest, then jump up and bring another foot down on his head—
"What the-?" He stopped me with an arm! And my first kick hadn't done anything either!
"It's called armor." The guy knocks me back and I land on the other side of the room.
"No way," I retort, snapping upright. "My kicks can break armor. And robots!"
The guy raises an eyebrow. "Really? Must not have been very tough. Anyway, we're done here. You can go."
I hesitate for a second. "You aren't going to stop me?"
"I know you only want to leave," the guy replied.
"I could just as easily break everything on my way out. What's the catch?"
"Defense systems, traps. You said you're built for danger, right? Put it to the test, Kit."
"Shut up! You don't get to call me that," I yell, stomping out into the corridor. What nerve! And I don't even know his name, so it's doubly unfair.
"You can just ask," I hear him call.
"Bug off!" I raise my wings and fly through the corridor.
Several armed guards try to stop me, calling me an intruder. "What a joke," I mutter as I smash their faces in.
Soon I find the facility's main entrance. Several small-caliber autoturrets line the exterior barrier concealing the building. The moment I set foot on the dusty ground just past the door, the guns all point at me.
"Nothing I can't handle, huh…" I shield myself with my wings and break into a run, myriad bullets bouncing off my scales. "Just how much does he know about us?"
I kick open the main gate in one swift motion, disrupting the barrier. Then I launch into the sky at full speed. The autoturrets stop tracking me as power is diverted, and soon I'm out of range.
I keep watching the facility, memorizing its location. Then its barrier reactivates, rendering it completely invisible to anyone who doesn't already know it's there.
"Same tech as the safe house? Weird," I mutter, heading in a direction I hope is homeward. The sun is now hanging low over the horizon. Judging from the clouds, it's probably not going to storm this week. Hopefully.
I happen across a large bird, leisurely coasting on a breeze.
"Hi, bird," I call.
"Keee," the bird screeches, then reunites with its flock a few dozen meters below.
"Yeah, good idea, buddy," I reply. "Let's see. Landmarks, landmarks."
Screeeee…
I direct my attention towards the noise. As I suspected, it's an aeronaut sounding off their screemer. Too bad I can't screem back while flying…
As I land in front of my comrades, Rurin asks, "Where were you?"
"Some place I didn't recognize," I reply, "with some guy I hate. Maybe we should go back and beat him up."
"We've been out all day looking for you," Vernicia yawns. "I'm beat…"
"Yeah, let's just do it later," Travis cosigns.
As we fly back home, I begin contemplating some more. The similarities between that facility and our safe house were undeniable. Maybe they were run by the same people. If they can afford us, they can probably afford those high-tech labs. But if that were the case, why did that guy let me out so readily? Rather, why did he even capture me in the first place? A lot of things aren't adding up.
Travis kicks me in the face.
"Ow. What is it," I grunt.
"Quit thinking so hard. Your brain will overheat," he replies. "I read somewhere that you'll get wrinkles if you worry about things too much."
"Hm…yeah, you're probably right," I mutter. Maybe things will fall into place later.
A hot wind blows over the darkening badlands as the four of us land at our safe house. As we approach, I notice that the window I'd been attacked through is good as new, like nothing happened this morning at all.
Rurin pushes open the door. "Hey-oh. Joseph," he calls. "You home? We're back!"
"Just a moment, children," our keeper's voice echoes from down the hall. "Something just came up."
"Something important? Can we help?"
"Not this time, I'm afraid," Joseph replies. "Please, don't worry about it."
We share a doubtful look as his footsteps recede. Last time he got all secretive like this, a bunch of whitecoats stormed in the next day and made us drink jet-black "fortitude test mix" every day for a month. I still sometimes get nightmares about the stuff.
The shower water kind of stings as it runs down my face. I guess the cuts are still there. Or maybe too much dust got in the reservoir again. Maybe it's both? Whatever. At least I can still recognize my face. My last two combat missions, they did not hold back…
I emerge from the washroom, adjusting my twintails while sporting a fresh yellow skysuit. Vernicia seems to have just awakened from a power nap. I wasn't in there that long, was I?
"Hey, Verni. Where are Trav and Ru? I wanna raid that place now."
Rurin appears next to me. "Did someone say raid? Let's do it!"
Travis pokes his head in. "We going right now? I'll get my helmet."
"That's what I like to hear," I yell. "Night run, let's do it!"
"Woo," Vernicia cheers.
The night is still hot as we fly towards the guy's facility.
"Who wants dibs on the breach? Basic barrier, low-caliber autoturrets, a simple stoop-and-boop," I call as we approach the location.
"It's that wavery-looking formation, right? I got it," Travis volunteers, then begins to stoop, shaping his wings accordingly. Soon he is streaking downwards, easily reaching almost 400 kiloms per hour.
Down below, Travis smashes into the gate. Judging from how easily it gives out, they must not have had time to properly repair it. The three of us fly in after him.
"Look at that, the turrets went down," Travis says.
"Huh, they did that when I broke out, too. Weird," I mutter.
"That just means they're on the same power grid as the barrier and the gate," Vernicia figures. "Heh, cheapskates."
"They can't afford separate power grids, but will splurge on a room-sized scanner?" I scrunch my eyebrows. "Buncha weirdos."
I kick down the front door, and alarms immediately start blaring.
The Guy, standing a ways down the corridor, gives me one look and sighs.
"This the guy you were talking about?" Vernicia raises an eyebrow.
"Sure is," I confirm, rolling my shoulders. "Nice of you to make this easy for us, guy. I do hope you'll put up a fight."
The guy gives an exasperated look. "I'm flattered, really. But I'm in the middle of something right now; trying to finish it before sunup. Sorry for the inconvenience."
"Wh-! You've got some nerve," I growl.
"You're the ones who showed up unannounced! It's the middle of the night, you know. Any sane person would be asleep right now!"
"Wait a minute…" I squint at him. "You're still up too, though…"
"Give the midget a prize! This badlands air really messes with a fella, doesn't it?" He turns away as a researcher approaches him.
"This friccing guy," I seethe.
"He's kinda funny though, isn't he?" Rurin rubs his chin.
"Tch! I wouldn't give him the satisfaction," I grumble.
The guy and the researcher are still talking to each other. I catch a few words - fabricated, previous subject, aeronaut. Then he looks back at me. "Yeah, you're right," he mumbles.
My guard goes back up. "What's with that look?"
"While you're here, you might as well help me out with something," the guy decides. "It should be a simple task."
Vernicia narrows her eyes. "Are you screwing with us? I feel like he's screwing with us."
"Unlike you, soldiers, I'm a free thinker with goals and ambitions," the guy replies. "Anyway, you won't know what's happening and it won't hurt. What do you say?"
Travis raises a hand. "How about we just do what we came here to do instead?"
The guy rolls his eyes. "Always violence with you guys… would it hurt to at least pretend you're human?"
"You think you can just say whatever you want, huh?" I try to punch him in the jaw, but he catches my fist in his armored hand. "Rrgh! So, what are we, then? Clones? Robots?"
"Flying werewolves," Vernicia suggests.
"What? You're biotools. How'd you even… never mind." He snaps me back, and I skid backwards on my feet. "I guess this means you're done talking? Well, don't forget, I tried to be civil first."
Combat machines file in, all of them pointing guns at us. In total, they number maybe a dozen.
I raise an eyebrow. "This all you got? We've got training models tougher than these."
"Yeah, Kit could break these in one kick," Vernicia figured. "The rest of us, maybe two."
"Yes, I'm aware it's easy for you… but what about Joseph Adams?"
The four of us freeze, our gazes hardening.
The guy remains calm. "Oh? Someone you know?"
"You… you know his last name," I say. "He never told us his last name!"
"He probably has dirt on him or something," Travis figures.
For some reason, the Guy appears visibly confused. But he composes himself a moment later. "This just goes to show how much I know… and how much you don't know, apparently," he says. "But that shouldn't surprise me – you are just soldiers, after all."
"This could be bad," Rurin mutters. "You know Joseph is super frail. He'd probably lose against just one of these things."
Now furious, I point at the Guy. "You think this'll be a difficult decision to make, GUY? I can take you on myself! The rest of you, Joseph protection detail!"
"Yeah, you've got this," Travis nodded. "We'll come back for you in a bit."
As my comrades fly out of the facility, I raise my wings and assume a fighting stance. "This'll be the last time you underestimate me," I tell him.
The Guy rubs his forehead. "Sheesh. Nothing if not confident… alright, bots, you know what to do."