Beyond these walls..

Wishing you a Happy Birthday Cal...and for you a hurt and confused Alec.

The pinprick of light bore into his brain through the optic nerve. Controlling him, imprinting him, stealing from him the memories of that other life, of another way. He had fought hard. The battered state of his body bore testimony to the struggle he had put up. They hadn’t killed his spirit, but now he lay strapped motionless to a tiltable gurney as they messed with his mind, erasing all that had made him more human- made him fallible.

******

Her eyes shone in his mind. Their liquid brown depths inviting. Yet, they held no context. Why she was there he had no idea. She was just some random anomalous image that refused to stop tormenting him. So he ignored her.

Instead he concentrated on getting stronger. His body was still recovering slowly. He had lain beaten and bruised in solitary for weeks as even his accelerated healing had taken time. The gaps in his memory he had been told would fade. The reminded him that he had been only just saved from certain death. He had been attacked and left to die after getting caught out on a mission. The recovery team had found him lying in a rapidly growing pool of his own blood. The blunt force trauma to his head had been severe- leaving his brain slightly damaged –hence the amnesia. Or so they had told him…

For some reason he had his doubts. Irrational and illogical as they might seem. He also had her. She was new, he was pretty sure she hadn’t existed before. His long term memory, undamaged as it was, could confirm this for him. Was she someone he had encountered beyond the walls of Manticore? He had so many questions but so very few real answers. No one would have told him the truth even if he bothered to ask, so he didn't. For now he nursed his suspicions. The drilling and training over the years had taught him to read people and situations. Now things around him and the explanations he was being given seemed a bit off. His instincts told him beware, so he became more watchful.

After closely observing and scrutinising the reaction he encountered for several weeks, things became more clouded rather than clear. His conclusion was that things didn’t add up because some things were false- Occam’s Razor- the simplest solution is most likely the right one. He could tell that people were lying to him but why? Desperately he searched inside his mind, he tried hard to remember what they had been trying to make him forget. She was the clue. He resurrected her from the darkened corner he had banished her to, stopped pushing her out of his mind, and used her as a beacon to help him regain the truth. Something about her tore at his heart, while at the same time she made him swell with warm feelings. The emotions she evoked were a contradiction in itself.

He went searching for answers. His mission clothes were still intact. Neatly laundered and folded amongst his other gear. He had seen them before they had been cleaned. The bloodstains had visible proof of their story, but now he searched for less obvious clues. Shredding the material, looking for any hidden evidence that could clarify his life for him, he found trapped in the jacket lining a delicate silver chain. It intrigued him. As he held it up to the light the heart shaped locket twirled loosely in the air. Like a key to his mind, the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place again. Everything made sense. He had been betrayed- by those he had always been taught to respect, to trust.

Memories of a mission that had opened a new door for him flooded back. A mission he had failed, but one that he had learnt about life in. Rachel- the eyes and face now had a name. A thousand little moments hit him till one took his breath away. A shard of excruciating pain pierced his heart when he remembered the flash of brilliant light engulfing Rachel. He fought the blind panic that threatened to overwhelm him. They had done what he could not, and then stolen those precious memories from him. The words - "escape" and "evade"- flashed into his mind as he realised he was trapped within a world where life was given no value. There was no longer the feeling of belonging here.

The opportunity for escape presented itself quicker than he imagined. Manticore had no reason to doubt his loyalty now he was back in the fray. They had trained him for this. Unwittingly, they put the weapons he needed in his more than capable hands. The cold steel blade that he managed to conceal came in handy as it sliced through the jugular of the first guard to realise his intent. The sight of the red hot sticky blood excited him in a way that made him sick. He was a freak. They had made him to be this way. The look of horror on Rachel face when he had told her his job was as cold as the steel as it drove into his gut and twisted his innards. It jerked him back to the cold reality and a calm, detached efficiency took hold.

The second guard put up a greater struggle, but the knife that penetrated his belly distracted him before he could raise the alarm. It gave 494 the time to snap his neck and silence him for good. The windows through which he was escaping was just around the corner, he looked back along the cold blue corridor. The concrete so impersonal and sterile mocked his feelings of childhood nostalgia, it had for a long time been home. He concentrated on shaking the sentimentality from his mind and focusing on his mission- freedom. So far the only encountered resistance was ordinaries, extras in Manticore's little dominance play. They weren't the opposition he had to worry about.

Using the knife he'd wiped clean on the guard's clothes, 494 pried the locking mechanism and the window bolt clicked. Pushing the window out, he slid through and began making his way along the main building. Avoiding detection by sticking to the darkened shadows of the building, he kept low and moved at a crouched run. For now the floodlights didn't reach him there, but if the alarm was raised they would find him. Reaching the end of the shelter, he let his eyes adjust to the darkness beyond the concrete parade ground. The fence was a further 100 yards beyond that. His only chance now was to use his genetic-given abilities in stealth and speed to attain his objective. Steeling himself, he focused on his goal. Taking a deep breath, he blurred towards the distant wire. For those seconds he felt brutally exposed, expecting a bullet to penetrate his body and fell him short of the world beyond. Yet amazingly he was over the fence and gone by the time the claxon alarm announced the detection of escape. He smiled to himself, Manticore had been caught out.

Pushing on till the distant sound of the compound under alert became barely a whisper to enhanced hearing he allowed himself to take in his surroundings. He slowed his pace as the forest thickened covering his path and sheltering him from prying eyes. Letting his breathing return to normal and his heart rate steady, he assessed his position. Miles from anywhere, and alone on foot, the most promising option seemed to be just keeping on moving at a steady pace. He veered from the path he had been on, careful not to maintain a straight line that could be predicted. The sounds of the night animals in the forest around him were a welcome change to the booted precision of home. He focused on putting one foot in front of the other, putting distance between him and anyone who chose to track his escape.

What 494 did no realise was Manticore had become wise. Long before he had ever felt the burning need to escape, others had broken out of their prison-like home and scattered. Going to ground and evading capture for many years. Vanishing into the world never to be seen again. These escapees had been only children, but they had taught the Powers-that-be a valuable lesson- never underestimate. He and others like him were valuable military assets. Unbeknownst to these assets, they had been fitted with microtransmitters to prevent being lost or mislaid in the future. This small little fault in 494's plan was his downfall. They knew where he was for every second, no matter where he hid. The distance he travelled didn't matter. He didn't realise that they had found him till the row of tiny cloned faces pushed in at him for all directions.

Stronger and smarter than these tiny soldiers, still he stood no chance as they swarmed at him. They were too numerous and too well coordinated. Several fell as his hands and feet were used with lethal force in an attempt to keep them at bay. He felt the shock explosion of a tazer connecting with his skin, followed by another, the electricity taking almost immediate effect on his hyperalert mind and adrenalin pumping body. By the time third tazer hit him he was down and they were upon him- attacking unmercifully- a pack of savage animals. He was the enemy- it was that black and white. Through glazed eyes that he fought to keep open, 494 saw them retreat. They parted to let through a shadowy figure. As the man with the cragged weary face came nearer, he ordered the guards that accompanied him to retrieve the battered body, but first he moved forward to address the fallen X5. With a voice that was oddly calm and reassuring "You're coming home with us, Son." With a heavily treaded boot he struck 494's head a solid blow, the kick sending him into blissful unconciousness.

The straps held him down. His head pinned to the table, held in alignment for the beam that would help shred his resistance. He had fought them valiantly, this was evident in the extent of his injuries. It had taken more than tazer blows to subdue him. Tha tranquilsers they had pumped into him were the only things that kept him docile now. Once again the red pinprick bored into his brain- remoulding his soul.

As they dragged his limp body between them, the two guards' eyes met over his head. They had passed faces, inhuman and savage on the way to solitary with the rogue X5. He belonged with them locked away from those above, another anomaly. With relief they dumped the still-drugged body on a bunk and relocked the cell. Retreating to above-ground where sanity prevailed.

As 494 slowly recovered in his cell, he tried to piece together what had happened. Searchingly he looked at the slowly disappearing bruises and tazer burns that covered his skin. Nothing made sense. Only one thought seemed clear in his mind.

Nothing good lies beyond these walls.