Friday Fiction: Agent 12

There were a group of fifteen of us dressed in something like a wetsuit, only cut off at the knees and elbows. We hadn’t really been told what was going to happen as we were all marched into a room and instructed to sit down in the oversized chairs. These were lined up in rows of five, kind of like those old rollercoasters I’d seen in documents about Terra. I ended up in the middle row. I couldn’t help but stare at the room we were in. It was all white walls and it looked clean, almost sterile. The scientists who led us in there had moved behind a panel to fiddle with some buttons. They snapped at everyone to look straight ahead and that was when I noticed the creases in the wall and realised it was designed to open up. I felt my stomach drop as nerves got the better of me.

The moment that everyone was seated a harness came down and pinned us back into our seats, arms held tight. Cuffs locked around our ankles to make the restraint final. My heart was pounding and I was suddenly very afraid. I could see the others squirming in their seats trying to move but it was, by that point, impossible. Fear started to spread through the group as the wall in front of us opened up to reveal the jaws of a machine. I stared wide eyed and thought my heart was about to jump out my throat as the chairs jerked into motion along a conveyor belt towards the entrance of the machine where we were given final scans and tests before the processing could begin. After the tests, microchips were embedded into the middle of our backs, along the spine, for tracking and identification. It was at that moment when the cries of pain began. I was among them; it felt like white hot knives had cut into my nerves. The pain barely subsided as we were moved along the belt like a car being fitted together. All the time people were screaming and yelping, all struggling to get loose with each poke, prod and jab that occurred. After a while I grew quiet, barring a few muffled cries. I had given up on escape.

The end of the processing drew near, the man next to me had noticed my silence and tried to give me an encouraging smile, I tried to smile back I think, but I saw the terror in his eyes that mirrored my own. Our heads were once again held in place by machinery, as thick, painful needles were jammed into the back of our necks. The serum seared like ice through my body.

Everyone stilled in their seats, gasping from pain too intense to even contemplate screaming. I dug my nails into the arms of the chair, scraping into the metal with ear-grating additional discomfort to the current situation. When the injection was over I exhaled loudly and my head lolled forward once it was released. This was all too much and I really wanted it to be over, I wished that shock had knocked me unconscious. The others shivered with paling expressions, I was watching the man that sat next to me and saw the point that his eyes begin to glaze. An uncomfortable wave of heat began to take effect as the machine finished its sick and twisted little ride. Our arms and ankles were released, I was hoisted up by the harness that had previously been pinning me to the seat and was lowered into a tank; I was too exhausted from agony to fight it. I saw others being placed into similar tanks alongside me and noted that I could barely move inside the glass container. It had been designed to be as confining as possible.

A breathing mask was lowered and strapped forcefully to my face. Slowly the tank began to fill with liquid, a new kind of panic took over the group. The heat in my body suddenly increased and I felt like I was cooking from the inside out. I glanced to the others who were shaking with a similar sensation. The tank flooded completely just as the pain truly peaked. I screamed into my mask until I was breathless, shaking from agony so powerful I didn’t think was possible to survive. Towards the end I managed to focus on the others who’d simply fallen unconscious. I felt another wave of excruciating agony and nearly bit off my tongue trying to hold back a shriek; instead I slammed my body into the sides of the tank attempting to break out. I’m unsure if this was true or just my imagination before I fell into unconsciousness but I’m fairly sure I saw a crack in the glass.

—-

When I woke I felt different. I felt good. My body was a bundle of energy and my mind was clear. I understood more than I did before and felt as if I was physically capable of doing anything. This felt great. I was excited, but then I saw others at my side and something was off. I searched with my eyes but couldn’t find the guy who’d tried to be encouraging before. In fact there wasn’t anyone from my group.

Those around me, they didn’t seem to feel emotion. I was confused. I didn’t feel like I was any different in personality than I had been, I just felt better – as if my real potential had been unlocked. All that pain and torture had awoken my true strengths. I could tell. I would notice later on that the others were every bit as capable as me, but it was like they were dead inside. They didn’t smile, cry or emote. It didn’t take me long to realise that I had come out of the process different to everyone else. I hid myself; I tried my best to emulate my new ‘team’. I did not want to be ‘fixed’.

After being sent on a suicide mission with my unit several years later, I was caught out. They’d had an inkling for a while, but they tested me continuously to prove their theory. I had managed to keep up the act for a long time; however my survival of that mission proved undoubtedly that I was not like the others due to myself preservation. I could override my desire to ‘follow orders’ with survival instincts and intelligence. I refused to die. They had a conversation with me. I played silent for a while until it was clear that I was exposed. Shortly after that they introduced me to the others. They referred to us as Agents. We had a genetic anomaly in our blood which altered how the serum worked on us. Rather than turning us into brainless automatons it just made us stronger, faster and more intelligent. Until I was discovered to be an Agent I felt alone and bored, very bored. I didn’t fit in with ordinary people; I was clearly no longer one of them. It wasn’t as if I could hold a conversation with the ‘Soldiers’ either, they spoke so little except in response to orders.

When I found out 11 was the man from my processing batch who had tried to comfort me I was ecstatic. He was partnered with 9 and 10. When they eventually placed me alongside 13 and our sibling agents everything got a lot better and a lot more interesting… even if 13 does drive me up the wall sometimes. All of us were given the number from when we were categorised originally, our old names were almost pointless at this stage. I was definitely no longer that girl.

I am Agent 12.

~~~~

By Alice Tordoff