Standby (The Emile Reed Chronicles, 2.5)

  Standby (The Emile Reed Chronicles, 2.5)

  Standby (The Emile Reed Chronicles, 2.5)

  Midpoint

  PROLOGUE

  Standby

  The Emile Reed Chronicles, 2.5

  Published by Nicole Sobon at Smashwords

  Copyright © 2013 Nicole Sobon

  Copyright © 2013 Nicole Sobon

  First Edition: December 2013

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Cover image through Fotolia.com

  Cover design by Nicole Sobon

  For more information, please visit:

  http://www.NicoleSobon.blogspot.com

  Program 22: Session 15

  He isn’t perfect, but he is as close as we will get. Emile was one of a kind, though I don’t believe Charles understands that. She wasn’t created, she remained underneath the programming, long before I began messing around with her system.

  It is important that we hide his true being from the others for now. They are fearful of the unknown, and we don’t know what he is capable of, which makes him a danger to all of us.

  At least, that is what they believe.

  There’s still a bit of human left inside of him; a will to survive, to fight off the machine, and the truth is that they are terrified by that. They are terrified that something they’ve created could possibly destroy them.

  Subject: Grant

  He reminds me of her. He’s eager for freedom, for a way out, something that is rarely seen in Programs. I had programmed him to be a certain way, to act a certain way, but these thoughts? These thoughts are Grant’s, not Twenty-Two’s. He’s more human than I thought he’d be, but he’s still a machine, as hard as it is to believe.

  But I need to ensure McVeigh doesn’t find out. If he knows just how advanced Grant is, who knows what he’ll do, but I’m most certain it won’t be anything good.

  Log 22013:

  There are things I have been forced to do during my time here; things that I’m not proud of. Performing an update on Tommy’s deactivated body was one of them. I’d known this boy for years, long before he’d started seeing my sister. Seeing the vacant look in his eyes and the pale coloring that overtook his skin, I couldn’t help but to think what I was doing was wrong. He was fading away, and now McVeigh expected me to bring him back, but for what? To suffer some more?

  None of this is right. None of it. But I know that he deserves a second chance. They all do. I only wish that I could fix them all. Until then, I will continue trying to right the wrongs of a sick man, in hopes of restoring humanity to how it once was.

  I almost feel as though there is no way out of here outside of death, and that terrifies me. I just want to save her, to save Grant – even though I only knew him as a Program, and to start over. But I don’t see him allowing that.

  I’m here to save her, but I’m afraid I’ll die before I get the chance.

  1 THE PROCEDURE

  As I lay on the table, with White Coats hovering over me with their scalpels in tow, the sharp edges of which tear into my skin, all I found myself thinking about was her. Not the pain. Not that I missed my old life.

  None of that.

  All I could think about was her.

  And it wasn’t just because I had missed her – I did, more than anything – but it was also because I felt as though I had failed her somehow.

  Maybe that was a ridiculous thought considering the circumstances. I’d fought hard, and I knew that, but I couldn’t help but to think that it hadn’t been enough. I could’ve saved her from this, I thought to myself, even though I knew that it was ludicrous to think such a thing. I tried like hell. I did everything that I could. I risked everything to protect her, because she was worth saving – she was worth losing everything for.

  She was my baby sister, and I had done everything that I could to see to it that she stood a chance at escaping this terrifying world that she’d been forced into.

  But even with my need to protect her, I knew that she was more than capable of protecting herself. She had already shown me her strength once before, having survived the transformation and regained control of her body. She was strong, determined, and quite stubborn, but even knowing all of that, I still couldn’t help but to think that I should have done more.

  Having spent months working for Charles McVeigh had not helped to ease my worries any, either. If anything, working under his thumb had only helped to increase my fears. The truth of the matter was that he was a terrifying man, and he wanted her more than he had ever wanted anything.

  I had read the files. I knew that, in the beginning, she was meant to be nothing more than a throwaway experiment; a test to create a satisfactory teenage Program. But she had been more than he had ever dreamed of.

  She was everything he had aspired to create within a Program.

  Emile was his prized possession, and he wasn’t going to let her go. Not without a fight, and certainly not without causalities.

  She was everything to him.

  And I was his ticket to getting her back.

  In McVeigh’s eyes, I was Emile’s one weakness; her only remaining – living – link to the life that he had stolen from her. He knew that she’d want to rescue me. He knew that killing me would destroy her, and that hadn’t mattered to him. All that mattered was that he got what he wanted – that, in the end, she was back inside of Vesta Corp where he felt she belonged.

  I only hoped that she wouldn’t fall for his trap.

  She’s smarter than that, I’d told myself.

  And she was.

  But even I knew that the heart had a tendency to be more convincing than the mind.

  I could hear the computers booting up around me. Their screens flickered on, one by one, in the dimly lit room. I imagined what those before me had felt when they had undergone the transformation – the fear they must’ve felt at the unknown.

  Me? I was calm, collected. Not because I wanted this, but because I had expected this.

  I knew that this would be my outcome.

  I knew it the moment that I took the job at Vesta Corp.

  That didn’t mean that I wasn’t in horrendous pain. With each new tear, I wanted nothing more than to scream; to fight back against the pain. But I’d known better than to show weakness.

  That was what they expected, what they hoped for, and I’d be damned if I was going to give them any bit of satisfaction. They’d already destroyed everything else that I’d held dear. I wouldn’t allow them to destroy me, too. I wouldn’t allow them to toss me onto a hard-drive and lock me away in a storage room.

  Weakness was one’s worst friend in life, and right now? Right now I was still alive.

  You can’t forget, I told myself. You can’t forget who you are.

  “Prepare for injection,” a female voice called out.

  She leaned over me, a large needle within her grasp. Her face was hidden behind a surgical mask. I looked into her eyes, which were a soft shade of green, eager to sense something – anything – but there was nothing.

 
; Not an ounce of remorse. Not an ounce of sympathy. Nothing. Her eyes lacked any sort of life, any bit of humanity, even though I knew that she was human.

  “No better than the others,” I said, my voice uneven as the needle slipped beneath my skin. “You are no more alive than the Programs that you help to create.”

  My eyelids grew heavy as the cold liquid made its way throughout my body.

  I could hear them talking above me, though I couldn’t make out what was being said. At one point, I could’ve sworn that I’d heard them say Emile’s name, but that also could’ve been my paranoia taking over.

  I lay there, unable to fight back against the White Coats as they ripped through my flesh, rebuilding my insides with inhuman parts, slowly finding myself plunging deeper into darkness.

  And I welcomed it.

  I welcomed it because it was an escape from the pain; a temporary source of relief.

  But I should’ve known better.

  I’d watched as McVeigh and his White Coats performed the same surgery on many other “donors”. I knew what he was capable; of the torture he could unleash upon his victims.

  My mind was so wrapped up with worry for Emile that I hadn’t even thought to expect what came next.

  They lay strapped to two surgical tables, white clothes draped over their pale bodies. Charles McVeigh stood near the ends of the tables, his hands cupped at his waist, and a smug smile spread upon his lips.

  “What do you want with us?” My mother pleaded. “Why can’t you just let us go?”

  McVeigh let out a frustrated sigh, dropping his hands to his sides. “You know why I cannot allow you to leave,” he’d told her. “We both know you have been made well aware of what takes place within these walls.”

  My mother lay silent, tears pooling at the corners of her eyes.

  “You are here today because of your daughter and her selfish tendencies.” McVeigh ran his finger along the edge of my mother’s table, slowly making his way towards the head of the table. “In order to assure she returns, I needed to take out a bit of insurance.”

  He’s showing you what he wants you to see, I reminded myself, don’t believe any of it.

  But that was the thing about becoming a Program, you fell victim to the machine; you gave life to McVeigh’s creations.

  And you lost yourself to your worst nightmare.

  2 SURVIVAL

  I tried to fight the pull of the darkness as it wrapped itself around me, pulling me further and further away from the light. But it was useless.

  I was losing myself to the machine.

  Program Forty-Six activated, the robotic voice sounded inside of thoughts.

  Volts of energy surged throughout my body, and I wanted to scream out in pain as the burning sensation traveled at full speed with no clear end in sight, but I didn’t.

  Pain showed weakness, I reminded myself.

  And weakness should a loss of control.

  I was still here.

  I was still present beneath the machine, and I wasn’t going to give up.

  3 THE GIRL

  You can’t forget. The words kept replaying in my thoughts. They were words that held a significant meaning, one that I couldn’t recall.

  “Forty-Six,” a harsh voice called out. “Can you hear me, Forty-Six?”

  I knew that I should have answered. I knew that a response was expected of me. I could feel the words trying to escape, but they never made it past my lips. I was too lost in my thoughts. I’d been consumed by the images of a girl that kept replaying in my mind. Images of a girl; one that I knew I shouldn’t have known, but did.

  “His memories are stronger than hers,” a male voice called out. I felt my body jolt as a hand clamped down on my shoulder, forcing my eyes open. “How is that possible?”

  A petite woman stood before me, a small tablet held out in her hands. Her eyes looked over the screen briefly before looking back up at me. “He is stronger than her, Harold. He has retained more of his human identity than Thirteen.”

  I leaned forward in the chair, the restraints binding my wrists – the only things keeping me from moving closer towards her. It was as though with each word she spoke, I felt myself being pulled towards her; as though she was in control of my every action – of me.

  “But if he’s stronger than her, that makes him dangerous. Shouldn’t we alert your brother, Mrs. Ward?” The old man who I had presumed to be Harold leaned against a metal desk, clutching his wire frame glasses tightly in his right hand.

  I could sense his nervousness across the room. I could hear his heart beating inside of his chest as anxiety overcame him. He was the complete opposite of Mrs. Ward.

  She remained calm, and collected, as she leaned down and released the straps binding my wrists. Fear did not radiate off of her like it had Harold. She was a blank state, someone that I was unable to read, and that was a rather terrifying thought.

  A clicking noise sounded from behind me, and was quickly followed by a tugging sensation near the small of my back. I tried to ease myself out of the chair, but my found myself unable to stand.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Harold asked. He took a step forward, careful to retain a safe distance between us.

  “His body is trying to adjust,” Mrs. Ward answered.

  “His body should’ve adjusted during the transformation. The programing should’ve erased his human identity. He’s of no use to us like this. You can’t control him like this!”

  I tried to make sense of their conversation, trying to analyze each and every word, but it was as though my thoughts were at war with one another.

  Nothing was making sense. But I knew that the girl? I had to remember her. I couldn’t lose the image of her face, even if I didn’t know her.

  “Come, Forty-Six,” Mrs. Ward said, pressing her tablet to her chest as she reached for my hand.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, glancing up at her before taking to my feet.

  “To see an old friend of yours,” she said, smiling smugly as she did so. “He’ll be quite pleased with how you’ve turned out.”

  LOG 04613:

  One would think being surrounded by so much death would make you automatically immune to the emotional pain it brought with it, but that wasn’t the case at all.

  Sometimes I felt as though I was the only living person within these walls.

  None of them seemed bothered by killing innocent people.

  They were so convinced that were they were doing was okay; that they were helping to fix our world. It was pitiful just how blind they’d been to the truth.

  They weren’t fixing shit.

  All they were doing was destroying everything in their paths.

  They lived for destruction and ruin.

  They lived for power and control.

  It hadn’t mattered that their choices affected the lives of others. It hadn’t mattered that they were basically committing murder. None of that mattered to them.

  What mattered was that they assumed absolute control.

  It was always about control.

  We were all mere pawns in their game.

  And the only way we’d be able to survive was if we were strong enough to rise up against the monsters threatening to destroy us.

  4 DEADLY SECRETS

  “Does he remember anything?” I could just faintly make out the voice of Charles McVeigh, the man that had brought me here; the man that had made me into what I was now.

  “Some things, yes,” a female voice answered him.

  There were bits of a previous life that I recalled. Images and facts that had found their way through to my new state. Some of them made sense, but others? They were puzzles pieces that never quite fit right.

  “That isn’t enough of an answer, Janet. Does he or doesn’t he remember?”

  “Why don’t you see for yourself? His readings while he’s in Standby Mode will reveal everything that you need to know, Charles.”

  I strained to listen to the voi
ces that sounded from across the room, but my thoughts were weighed down; occupied by the image of a girl that I knew I wasn’t supposed to know.

  Every bit of my programming was telling me that she wasn’t real. That she was nothing more than a figment of my imagination – a false memory, a false image.

  But when I recalled her face, and her haunting green eyes? I saw life inside of them. I saw a girl that held the key to a life I wasn’t supposed to know about.

  An erratic beeping noise sounded from outside of the Pod.

  “I thought you said that he was in Standby Mode?” McVeigh shouted. “His readings are all over the place, Janet.”

  “I’m well aware of that, Charles.”

  Something about the way she answered him was off. I tried to pinpoint the emotions that laced her words. My programming sensed anger, pride, and desire – all three emotions merged into one. But that wasn’t all.

  There was something else; something that I couldn’t comprehend. Not because I didn’t understand it – the human part of me understood rather well what she’d been feeling. No. It was because after everything that she’d done, after everything that she’d allowed herself to be a part of, I couldn’t allow myself to believe that the regret she kept hidden was real.

  “He’s capable of overpowering his Program, of overpowering his entire system, Charles. He’s stronger than Emile ever was. Do you understand that?” Her voice grew more frantic as she struggled to convey everything she needed to say. “Just look at him. Think of what he could do for Vesta Corp!”

  I knew that I should remain still, and do my best to calm my Program. Maybe then, they’d leave me be. But I also knew sitting there, inside of the Pod, completely powerless would only result in my end.

  I pulled forward, yanking my hard drive free from the slot in the back of the Pod.

  “He’s stronger,” McVeigh stated matter-of-factly. He furrowed his brows as he peered down at me, lost in thought.