"| can't believe that worked." 

"Honestly, I'm surprised you were the first one to try it." 


"One thing, though. | don't think you have to yell and curse to get it 
to work. That was the only part that they seemed to disapprove of." 


"Alright, I'll take it off. They deserve it, though." 


Behavior Response Results 
Traveler smiles. Loudly exclaim "Fuck The transportation 
it" and Engage system will distend 


traveler with sidearm. into a helix and engulf 
any injured or 
terminated travelers. 
Traffic resumes. 


"This job is so weird." 


Training Day 


A story. 


A man on his deathbed gathers up his friends. They have all served 
him well and justly, and it's time to divvy up the legacy of a life well 
lived. 


He takes the wisest among them, and provides them with mandate: 
"Do what you should." He 
thanked them, and they moved on. 


He takes the kindest among them, the men of good character, and 
provides them with mandate also: "Do what you must." He thanked 
them, and they too moved on. 


Finally, he takes the most loyal among them - those who, in good 
times and bad, stayed the course, echoed his sentiment, and stood 
firm against the winds of change. These men he took close to his 
person, embraced, and in the end, provided mandate, as he had the 
others: 


"Do what you will." 


They thanked him and he passed from this world. 


The sun rising on the commune was a sea of orange-yellow that 
glinted off the guard-posts, search-lights and walls and cast grand 
shadows over the the dormitory blocks in a way that the entire island 
was bathed in a kind of lustre. The palm trees bristling with fruit 
untouched on the surf just outside the main gate once more had 
their deep emerald leaves shine in the golden hour. 


In one such dormitory block, above his mother’s bunk, a sandy- 
haired boy crept out of bed and threw on a pair of hiking boots. 


Using the techniques Mr. Nakawa drilled into them every waking 
hour, he stole out into the hallway and past the guards patrolling in 
intervals, and as he did this he admired the lush color of their black 
uniforms and the intricacy of the weaponry and the badges of honor 
they maintained. 


Without a man noticing, he slipped from the building out into the 
dusty streets - dodging the watchful eye of sniper rifles and moving 
from building until he could make his way over to the hole. There it 
loitered; an inconspicuous, almost insignificant, assuredly invaluable 
tunnel under the high, concrete barrier protecting the outside world, 
from the one within. 


He uncovered the rocks concealing it and, without hesitation, dove 
in, his eyes adjusting the lighting as it changed from the slowly 
growing bright of the day to the gloom of the fissure. 


He wriggled himself through, cursing under his breath at the 
roughness of the Earth irritating the scars of the previous day’s 
exercises. He made his way through to the other side, and seeing 
blue sky once more, he scrambled out in an explosion of dirt as he 
rushed across the open field into the foliage ahead. 


The jungle was dense, and for a boy of his stature, daunting. He 
climbed over tree stumps and vines and plucked a leech from his 
ankle while moving up the stream. As he reached the river's end he 
saw the entrance to the vast cavern he has been searching for: a 
gaping maw into which the water flowed further down. 


He moved inside, the light gleaming into the dark, reflecting off high 
stalactites and glittering mineral caches. He stumbled over rocks 
and boulders until, eventually, he found the oasis. 


Their shared meeting place was a small pool of glowing, at the 
center of the cave. A young girl in a sharp uniform sat near the edge 
of the luminescent body, next to a dark-skinned boy in an outfit for a 
man older than him. Both appeared fascinated by the contents 
within the shimmering lake. 


He made his way down without a squeak. They noticed him only 
when he allowed it. 


"We're all here," he said, startling the pair - though not so much as 
before. They turned to him, and he noticed the red blotch on Elise's 
white cheek, and the weary, sleep deprived look in the eyes of 
Aaron. 


"Elijah," Aaron said, "It's good to see you still living." 


The trio moved to a circle, where they could speak quietly and 
intimately, with only their own company. 


"They say," Elijah said, "That we are going to practice more 
techniques today. No more repetition." 


"We're supposed to be experimenting,” Elise whispered. "On real 
people. The ones in the jumpsuits." 


"I'm finally done with the procedural," Aaron breathed, "It took so 
damn long, but I'm glad it's over." 


Elijah looked at Elise, "He told me to give you another message." 


"Really?" The girl's brown eyes glowed in the bioluminescence of 
the cave-creatures, their purple emanations the only sources of light 
to guide their path. "Tell me. Please." 


"He says he's ready to meet. He'd love to meet you here. | told him 
I'd take him, tomorrow." 


"What about me?" Aaron asked. 
"About you, nothing.” Elijah chuckled. "We can go rock hunting." 
"We still don't know - what they know." 


"They know nothing," he proclaimed, boldly. "They do not suspect, 
and they will not remember three little children meeting in the caves. 
We will come back tomorrow, and | shall introduce you, Elise," he 
said directly to the girl. "Combat efficiency be damned." 


"And you're sure you're okay with it?" 


"| have no interest him, nor any of the squad - nor, anyone else." He 


added, sheepishly. Stronger, he said, "! will take my body to my 
grave." 


Aaron laughed. "We'll see about that." 


"| hope so." 


Mrs. Partridge, Elise's course teacher, lectured in the back of her 
mind as the light from the 10:00 sun shined through the blinds of the 
Science Division building's first-year classroom - a fine, advanced 
area, full of diagrams, the class's latest tests with the DESG 
(D.irected, E.nergy, S.preadgun, a moniker Elise's friend Joy was 
very happy to take responsibility for) and the new ballistic weaves. 


Mrs. Partridge was a towering woman whose pitch-black bowtie did 
nothing to diminish the authority of her presence, and as she 
adjusted the latter aesthetic piece, she continued, "As each of you 
has been well informed, you are the unique among the students in 
our pool. Since its inception, the divisions of the Founder's Trust 
have accepted most specimens among the H. Sapiens variety in 
equal measure, with the exception of our own department. You are 
each among you, more, in mind and in body than your compatriots. 
Perhaps you have each attempted to test your limits in this area. 
This is perfectly normal. Come!" She shouted, and a man in full 
combat gear shoved a blindfolded prisoner in a jumpsuit into the 
room. He forced him onto his knees, and the class stood in awe of 
the sight. 


"Now, you will have the unique opportunity to let me see which 
among you is ready for the advanced course, and those others who 
are not so proficient. Form a line, and begin." 


They did so, their identical blue uniforms making them a sight to 
behold - at least in Elise's view. She heard screams of agony in her 
spot in line - the very last, as she had marveled at the organization 
of her comrades till it were too late - and try as she might she could 
not get a glimpse of the suffering. Ages seemed to pass, until she 
came to the front of the line. 


Mrs. Partridge looked up from a clipboard, as she checked off 


boxes. "Elizabeth," she said, the name Elise despised. "Give us a 
taste." 


She reached out with her mind towards the pitiable creature. She felt 
it, squirming and slippery, though not at all out of her control. She 
thought back to when she was a young girl, ordering Karajan to sit 
on her lap and massage her shoulder. She was just a cat, though. 
The man's brain was like an engorged version of hers. She tried to 
think of it that way, and had him stand. 


"Good," Mrs. Partridge said. "Something a little deeper." 


Elise struggled to make him rub his head and pat his tum. She 
ended up doing the same herself, to laughter. 


Mrs. Partridge ignored it, "And, to finish off - self-harm." 


Elise ended the loop and only just then registered what had been 
said. She looked at Mrs Partridge in confusion, and then saw - the 
man had deep, deep marks in arms, wrists, and neck. He was even 
bleeding in several places. 


Without intending, she imagined the pain inflicted by such wounds, 
and their connection led to a crippling agony in her throat and 
hands. She fell to her knees and held her hands to her temples. The 
line of students recoiled and disformed in surprise. Mrs. Partridge 
wrote something down. 


"Please continue the test, Elise. We are losing time." 


Elise could no longer enjoy her time with the man. She could feel, in 
the distance, his screaming at her, for help, and vengeance, and 
quiet. A deep pain arose in her chest as she moved the man's arm 
to his esophagus. With his own strength, she ripped into it, causing 
blood to leak away from the area and various viscera to exit the 
cavity she had created. In the back of his fading vitality, she felt 
gratitude. 


Mrs. Partridge made a note on her clipboard. She got to her feet, 
shaking. 


"Acceptable performance, Elise. To your place in the line." To the 


guard, she scolded: "Well, what are you waiting for? Bring in the 
next." 


"And that is why, while the procedure's fine points may have been 
lost on the plaintiff," Aaron spoke to the ‘Jury' of his peers, "It was 
perfectly within Ethical regulations, as set by precedence in Incident 
8789-Beta-C." The court was a small one, and traditional in 
structure. The Administrative division's instructional plaza sat at the 
highest point on the Island, Mount Scranton, and from the windows 
shining in the hot noon it collected a temperature unparalleled over 
the other facilities on the Island. Prosecutor Garland watched his 
method attentively from the 'Judge's' seat, his gavel at the ready. 


He continued, "The Committee has no right to issue a stop order on 
this essential action simply because it was not within Mr. 
Gavaroww's-" he looked at a Disposable Human in a suit, the 
‘Plaintiff! next to a guard in similar pomp for the occasion. "- 
faculative capacity, at the time. It is the Trust's recommendation that 
at this time, for costing the Foundation procedural system valuable 
time on an easily resolved case of minutiae, he be remanded to 
Site-43 immediately for processing, to be reassigned to a case more 
befitting his capabilities. Thank you." He ended with a smile, which 
was returned by his classmates. He moved back and sat with 
Charlie at the defendant's table, the former of which clapped him on 
the back. 


Prosecutor Garland, however, had a different look on his face. 


"We're going to a five minute recess. If | could see the defendant in 
my chambers?" The pronouncement took a moment to ingratiate 
itself to everyone in the room, and Aaron exchanged nervous 
glances with Charlie. 


"It'll be fine," he whispered, "We've been working day and night. He 
probably just wants to congratulate you before the verdict. Go on," 
Charlie coaxed him, after Aaron made a thoroughly unconvinced 
grimace, "Go on." 


Aaron stood up, as dignified as he could, and squeaked in his 
sneakers over to the Judge's quarters, which rendered as according 


Garland's tastes. They included: brown hardwood finish, a place 
overlooking the cliffs down below, a number of alcoholic beverages 
(one of which was currently being poured) and a desk with various 
objects of varying significance flanked by an American flag and 
Trust standard. Garland turned to address him. 


"What are you doing?" He asked. Aaron confused, responded, "I'm 
sorry, sir?" 


"What," Garland emphasized, "Are you doing? Didn't we talk about 
this?" When Aaron still blanked, he continued. "Your verdict. You 
were sublime. All we're talking about is the verdict, Aaron, my dear 
dear boy." He came closer. 


Aaron suddenly remembered, and his cloudy eyes appeared to 
clear. "It was my determination that Gavaroww's punishment would 
only fit the circumstances. All he theoretically did was refuse to enter 
the chamber. He didn't actively sabotage to the operation." 


"Aaron," Garland lectured, exasperated, "Who is that man out 
there?" 


"Mr. Gavaroww?" 
"Yes. Mr. Gavaroww." 


Aaron shrugged. "| assumed he was disposable. There's a whole 
stock of them on the Island." 


"And why is that, Aaron? Why don't we just use somebody else in 
company employ?" 


"Presumably..." he racked his brains. "Well, | suppose, to make the 
session feel more real. To make us consider our verdicts with the 
person in mind." 


"Exactly. That, is it, exactly." Garland drank, and thumped his glass 
down. "So what is your major malfunction?" 


"Sir?" 


"The whole point," Garland said, "Of acquiring a disposable 


specimen Prime in the first place, of the course itself, was to 
familiarize yourself with this aspect of ‘guilt.’ Disposable, Aaron. He's 
supposed to die." 


"But..." He was cut off. "But what, Aaron? You were tasked with 
readjusting the defense into our offense. That's the basis of Trust 


policy." 
"But why would we give up necessary manpower?" Aaron replied. 


Garland said, "Aaron, that's the key. Maybe you overthought it, but 
the rest of your classmates seem to have understood this. We are 
here to rid ourselves of the dregs. We are here, because we must 
have the Committee understand what /s necessary. And what is 
necessary, Aaron, is as little as possible." He placed a hand on 
Aaron's shoulder. He felt helpless. "Now, my boy, you are perhaps 
one of the finest lawmen to have walked through my hall in the past 
three years. So I'm giving you one more chance. You will go back 
into that chamber, and condemn that man to death. Non-negotiable. 
Do it. Clear enough terms?" 


Aaron was wordless. "Clear... enough?" The statement came out as 
a question. 


"Good." Garland breathed heavy. "| do look forward to our time 
together." 


Garland walked out. Aaron was silent, frozen. He thought back to 
the endless nights of study and argument and theory in the 
Commune libraries. 


Then, he straightened his tie, put on a smile, and walked back out of 
the office, past the Jury, towards Charlie. He remained standing as 
he addressed his peers. 


"It is... the re-determination of the defense, that Mr. Gavaroww be 


immediately remanded to Site-43 for processing and... termination, 
of employment. Thank you your honor." 


Samuel roughly knocked him onto the sand. "Damn!" Elijah spit out 


Doctor D : Please go into further detail of 
last night's events according to your 
perception. Note the camera only caught your 
erratic behavior before Agent was forced 
to intervene. 


: You gotta be shitting me, with all that 
fucking technology you couldn't- 


Doctor D : Please answer the question. 
What did you see last night? 


: It ain't a seeing thing, doc. It was a feeling 
thing. It was like, if | fucking breathed too hard 
I'd touch whatever the thing was, it was so 
damn close, just watchin me and hoverin’. 
Could hear it sayin’ somethin’, right in my ear, 
the bastard's fucking with me, he is! | could 
feel his smell, it was like... the static of the 
dust on a TV screen, but that little tingling is 
going in you, right... right here. | touches his 
sternum. And it just builds up till ya have to 
take a breath, and | swore on my life | almost 
felt the bastard's hand... tentacle.. thing! He's 
on me right now, can't you fucking see it?! 
grows increasingly agitated and begins 
noticeably hyperventilating. Oh God man... | 
feel it now... Fuck! Make it stop! MAKE IT 
STOP!!