NDA Art Critique Message Boards

I hope I’m alive to finish this video log. Truth is, I don’t know if I’ll live through the first chapter. We’ve been moving around so much, looking for an escape, but that mad man keeps locating us. No matter where we go, he finds us.
I’ve started making these recordings because of a serious problem I’ve been having. It seems my digital mind has started deleting “unneeded and unnecessary data”. I’ve been having sudden black outs and short periods of lost memory for weeks now. I’m afraid that eventually these gaps in my memory will get larger and longer, so I’ve decided to retell everything that has happened to me in the past year so I won’t forget.
I should probably start my story at the beginning, that day my life changed forever. That day I made the mistake of going on that sophomore field trip. That day I went to the potato chip factory.
My name is Adam Carter, but everyone calls me Ace. At the time, I lived and went to school in Lincoln, Nebraska, a fairly large city. My class was large with about 50 or so tenth graders. Our chemistry class was taking a small group of students to the local potato chip factory to see how they mixed and operated the oil that the chips are fried in.
As our group of ten students was given a tour through the massive building, my classmates were pointing at various machines and laughing amongst themselves. Meanwhile, I, being the quiet type, sunk to the back of the class with my hands in my jean pockets, staring at the ground through my dark sunglasses. My straight blonde hair blew around as we passed an industrial fan. It was hot, and the cool air felt good on that warm May spring day. I realized that I was starting to sweat in my leather jacket, so I took it off, draping it over a metal bar overlooking a huge vat of grease below as our way-too-cheery tour guide woman explained what they were for.
“You see,” the blonde began in her happy, condescending way, “these large tanks are two stories high and can hold 5,000 gallons of oil. These tanks are used to clean the used oil so it can be reused again.” She went on to talk about the cleaning process of the oil. When she finished explaining, the group started moving on. I noticed two well-built men wearing coveralls with a large “RRT” embroidered on each of their backs. The two seemed to be fixing a broken machine that sliced or washed potatoes. As we walked past, both men gave me a strong glance through their thick eyebrows. I tried to ignore it and moved on.
Soon, we went to the mess hall to eat lunch. I sat with the group quietly eating my pork sandwich as my classmates laughed and chatted, occasionally pulling me into the conversation. One thing you should know about me is that I’m not very close to my friends. The reason for that is my family. My mother died giving birth to me. Then, when I was six years old, my dad died in an accident involving his old Ford pickup truck and a drunk driver in a Hummer.
For the last ten years, I had lived with my mom’s aunt, Aunt Beth, in a small apartment on the south side of Lincoln. Beth was a short, 65-year-old woman with a loving, wrinkled face and brown-gray shortly curled hair. We used to be so close. Shortly after my twelfth birthday, Aunt Beth developed a case of Alzheimer’s. She still lived in the apartment with me, but sometimes she goes days without knowing who I am. I soon grew apart from Aunt Beth.
Because of the events that occurred in my childhood to the ones I loved, I guess I started to refuse to get close to anyone else. I hadn’t had a “best friend” since elementary school. I just wouldn’t allow myself to care enough for anyone anymore.
After we had all eaten, our painfully happy tour guide began leading us to the other half of the factory, where the chips were packaged and shipped. We passed an air vent that sent shivers up and down my arms. I suddenly realized that I had left my leather jacket draped over the guard rail at the grease tanks we had seen before. I quickly reached my teacher, Ms. Roots, to tell her.
Ms. Roots is possibly the most terrifying creature to ever walk the planet. She is tall, thinner than I thought possible, and her old wrinkled skin sags at her every movement. Her narrow, wrinkled neck leads to an abnormally sharply pointed chip. Her disgustingly pale skin crunches into a deadly scowl at her face. Her sunken eyes are always squinty from the saggy eyelids draped over them.
“Ms. Roots!” I said loudly as I approached her, “I left my jacket back at the grease cleaning tanks! I need to get it back!”
“Well Mister Carter…” Ms. Roots said in her witch-like way, “There simply isn’t time! We need to be back at the bus at three…”
“And all students MUST finish the tour!” our tour guide said cheerily.
“I don’t care! That’s my favorite jacket!” I loved that jacket. Aunt Beth had given it to me on my thirteenth birthday, before her Alzheimer’s had gotten too bad. At the time, it was way too big, but now I was finally fitting into it. I wasn’t about to lose it now.
“There isn’t time!” Both Ms. Roots and the tour guide snapped. They turned and began to lead the class away. It was then that I made what might be the biggest mistake of my life. I turned around and left the group to go get my jacket.
As I made my way through the factory, employees would stop and stare at me as I passed by. They probably weren’t used to see an unattended teenager casually strolling through a junk food factory. I ignored them and continued on, wondering what I would tell Ms. Roots once I returned to the group. She would probably give me detention. I didn’t really care, though; as long as I got back my leather jacket.
Soon, I entered the large room where I had left my jacket. I looked around and spotted it on the ground next to the guard rail that prevents people from falling into the large vats of grease. I was about to go get it until I saw one of the two large men in coveralls I had seen earlier. He was using a power drill to remove the guard rail. Making sure I stayed away from the area he was working on, I went over and picked up my jacket. The man stopped drilling and gave me a disturbing, wild-eyed grin.
“Sorry, I forgot my jacket, and I was just-” Suddenly I felt something or someone push me into the rail. I hit the metal bars, which were loose thanks to the power drill, and fell through. The last thing I remember before I fell in the boiling oil in the vat below was the frightened faces of the two maintenance men above as I screamed.

The next part is so fuzzy in my memory. I remember pain. Horrible pain everywhere, outside and inside my body. Then, I remember feeling continuous nothingness; never-ending darkness and silence, as if I was trapped in my own mind, unable to hear or see. Then, the pain would continue. This time, it was agonizing pressure on my head. The silence would then repeat, alternating between torturous pain and maddening darkness.
Then, the cycle was broken by sounds and flashes of vision. It’s hard to explain, but I would see sudden, distorted images and hear garbled noises and voices. The visions were so fuzzy that it was almost impossible to know what I was seeing. They looked like random colors. The noises weren’t any easier to identify. They were nothing more than strangely pitched unclear voices and loud, garbled grinding noise.
I didn’t have a sense of time then, so I didn’t know how long I was experiencing these sights and sounds, but after some time, I the vision began to get clearer and clearer. The garbled noise almost became words. The images became only slightly fuzzy. I could definitely identify human figures and human voices. I still couldn’t make out who they were, or what they were saying, but they were definitely getting clearer.
Then, all the pain and silence stopped. A final image appeared in my vision. I saw four or five figures dressed in white. I’m pretty sure I heard one of them say something like, “He’s ready”. Then, everything cut to white, getting brighter and brighter. I remember thinking, oh no. This is it. I’m dead.
Suddenly, the brightness faded into a clearer sight of the figures in white. They were men in lab coats! Maybe I was in a hospital! One of them with a bald head was leaning over me and speaking to me.
“Adam? Adam Carter? Can you hear me?” The figure said in a soothing tone, “Don't try to move, Mr. Carter. Your body is still running diagnostics.”
Diagnostics? What was he talking about? What kind of hospital was this? I tried to make out the faces of the men standing over me, but found I either didn't recognize them or couldn't see them in enough detail. If I was in Saint Elizabeth Regional Medical Center, I should have recognized at least some of the doctors that operated on me when I broke my arm a year before, right?
“Now Mr. Carter, your diagnostics will complete any minute,” The same bald doctor said, “Once they do, your body will undergo start up preparations.”
Almost immediately after he finished explaining, the words “STARTING UP”, along with a loading bar appeared in the front of my vision. It was the weirdest thing I'd ever experienced. First of all, the fact that letters were floating six inches from my eyes was strange enough, but then I slowly gained feeling in my limbs in a tingly way, as if the doctors had hooked up my arms and legs to a defibrillator. The electrical surge slowly moved through me until I could feel it all over my body. Then, my vision began to clear and my hearing became less staticy and garbled. The words “START UP COMPLETE” appeared.
“Adam? Can you sit up for us?” The bald man asked, “Can you speak for us?”
“What... What's going on...?” Even as I said it, I could tell something was strange. My voice sounded different. It wasn't deeper or anything, it just sounded more... electronic. I sat up, and my joints made a strange zipping noise.
“The operation was a success!” The bald man said as everyone applauded. For the first time, I got a good look at my surroundings. I was in a dimly lit building with high ceilings, like a warehouse or something. I turned my head to look at the bald man, and again my joints zipped. He was tall, about six feet, with deep, intelligent green-gray eyes he was wearing a lab coat with a white collared dress shirt and a dark blue tie. The others were similarly dressed, but they had red ties.
“Operation...? What are you talking about...?” I then looked forward and saw my feet. “What the heck...” My foot was a gray metallic rectangular block that attached to my leg, which was darker gray with a red and yellow color panel that led to a sharply pointed knee covering. It looked like I was wearing some sort of high-tech armor or something. “What did you do to me?!” I started freaking out. I jumped off the metal bed I had been laying on and looked around for an exit.
“Adam! Mr. Carter! Please call down!” The bald man came towards me. “Please allow me to explain.” He voice was calm and stern. It was hard not to trust the guy.
“Alright,” I said finally, “Talk. What happened to me? Who are you people?” Normally, I wouldn't be so abrupt and demanding when facing a group of adults, but manners kind of go out the window when faced with the fact that your legs have been switched with a robot's!
“I'll gladly tell you what you which to know,” The bald man said, “First, let me introduce myself. My name is James Cornelius Soul, leader of the Robotic Reconstruction Technology Agency.” I suddenly remembered the embroidering on the back of the maintenance men that said RRT. Soul continued, “You were in an accident at the snack food factory. Do you remember?” I nodded. I was starting to realize what had happened. He continued, “Your entire body was burned, and you ended up going into an oil filter. You were retrieved by two of our operatives and brought here, to our headquarters. You are very lucky to be alive. Your entire body, along with your internal organs, was injured beyond repair. We virtually replaced your entire body.”
“Wait... what do you mean my entire...” I looked down and saw it was true. My chest was boxlike and metal. My arms closely resembled my legs, with yellow and red panels and sharp elbows, with extremely detailed mechanical hands. I felt my head. It was in some sort of helmet or casing.
“Can... can I... get a mirror please?” I was starting to shake in my metal skin. Two of the men in white pulled a large mirror out of an open crate. They faced it toward me and I saw my body and face in full detail. My torso was divided into a lower, half-octagon pelvis, a dark gray waste, and a boxlike upper torso with a large BB, or maybe 88, symbol on my chest. Then I looked to my face. Where my eyes would be, was a wide, black, visor-like lens. My nose and mouth were below the visor, covered in what I assumed was tan artificial skin. I had to admit, the face did look like me if I were wearing my sunglasses. My ears were small satellite dishes, with one small antenna protruding from the top of each. My head was encased in a large silver helmet with a ridge going down the middle. The helmet ended right above the visor. A metal “chin strap” connected to the helmet covered my chin and the underside of my head.
“This... this is insane...” I could barely believe what I was seeing. I decided to play it cool until later. “Um, please, continue.”
“Very well,” Soul said in what might have been a thin British accent, “We have replaced and enhanced nearly your entire physical being. Your only organic member is your brain, and we even replicated part of that to give you better control over your new body.” He motioned to the other men in the room. “These men are the doctors and scientists that constructed and installed your new physique based on the designs I myself created. You owe the RRT your life.”
“Right...” I said, processing the new information, “And the RRT is what exactly?”
“Well, the Robotic Reconstruction Technology Agency is a government program that repairs and replaces machines and robotic equipment for a fee to any government-approved companies and facilities.” He paused, “But our main, top-secret task is to design and test artificial organs and limbs. You, Mr. Carter, are our biggest breakthrough in years.” He glanced at an old computer monitor next to the bed I was laying on before. “Now then Mr. Carter, we need you to shut down so we can finish installing software into your mainframe. Please return to the operation bed.”
I couldn’t believe what he was saying. How could I just lay back down and let these strangers who turned my into a robot work on my like a car in a garage? This was all so hard to take in.
“Look Mr. Man,” I said arrogantly to Soul, “I’m not sure I trust you people. How do I know I’ll wake up again?” Just then, my limbs started shaking, and flashing words appeared in front of my eyes. POWER LOW! “Power low? What does that mean?” After I spoke, I collapsed. Two scientists put my arms over there shoulders and helped me to the bed.
“Sorry Mr. Carter,” Soul said, “Your power core is still in an experimental stage. You’ll have time to recharge while we install your new software.” Soul motioned for the scientists to begin the shut down process as he rubbed his bald chin. “Adam, do you have any suggestions on improvements to your new body? Anything you’d like us to add?”
“What?” I said loudly, “Yeah. How about two extra arms, so I can beat up four of you scientists at the same time!”
“Interesting…” Soul said, still stroking his chin. Then, my vision faded into darkness.

STARTING UP appeared out of the darkness. Below the floating green letters appeared a loading bar that quickly moved from the left to right. The bar filled, and my vision cleared. Again, the group of four scientists and Soul were standing over me. Something was different when I woke this time. First of all, I started up much faster this time. Second of all was the floating dashboard in the lower left corner of my vision. It had statistics and diagnostics, such as power levels, heat levels, tachometer, and a few other measurements that I didn’t recognize.
“Are you alright, Mr. Carter?” Soul was standing near to me. I looked at him and sat up. The warehouse was brighter than before, and I could see sunlight shining in through several skylights on the high ceiling above. I noticed that I could see Soul in clearer detail now. He was completely bald. I mean completely bald. He had no hair, mustache, eyebrows, or even eyelashes. It was almost disturbing how different someone looked without eyebrows or eyelashes. I decided to ignore it for now.
“I’ve been better.” I said in a slightly angry tone. I motioned toward my visor. “What’s with the dashboard lights?”
“That’s part of the software we installed into your computer mainframe. That, among other things, will make using and controlling your new body easier and more enjoyable.”
“Wait, what do you mean, ‘among other things’?”
“Well, take a look at your new arms.”
“What new arms?” I looked down and saw that they had indeed installed two extra arms directly below my first two. “Whoa! I was joking! I don’t want to look like a… freak.” I realized that the four arms weren’t really what made me a freak. “Never mind, how do they work?” I moved all four of my arms in an up and down motion. All four limbs obeyed. The extra arms were exactly the same as the original two, just lower on my boxlike torso.
“I had your third and fourth arms installed, just as you asked. It was really a good idea on your part. They should provide an enhanced range of motion in combat.” Soul continued, “We had to modify part of your control-mechanism in your brain in order for you to control each arm individually, but you shouldn’t have any problems. Why don’t you try them out?”
I began moving each arm individually. It was actually really easy. I could move them in completely different motions. “Wow, that’s pretty cool.” I continued moving the robotic appendages around.
“Good Mr. Carter,” Soul said, “Now we must do some tests to make sure you are running at full potential.” He turned to the other scientists. “Prepare Simulation Number One. Adam, please follow me.” The scientists dispersed, and I walked next to Soul. I decided to try and get more information of the bald man.
“So, Soul,” I began, “You’re, like, the leader of this RRT thing, right?”
“That’s correct, Mr. Carter.” He continued forward and he spoke.
“Um, you can call me ‘Ace’ if you want.” It was bugging me the way he called me Mr. Carter. “So anyway, I was wondering, does anyone know that I’m, well, alive?”
“Of course. Everyone in this agency knows you’re alive.”
“No, I meant my school, my friends… My aunt.”
“Heavens, no. They gave up the search for you months ago.”
“What? Months ago? Months ago!? How long did your little operation take!?”
“Well Mr. Carter, your operation took nearly two months. Today is July 2nd.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I was on the field trip on May 7th. It seemed like I was asleep for hours. Turns out, I was out for two months! I stopped walking and put my lower hands on my knees and my upper hands on my face. Who knew what had happened in the last few months?
“I was asleep… for two months?” If I wasn’t overwhelmed before, I was now.
“No. Technically, you weren’t asleep. Prior to your operation, you were in a medically induced coma. After the operation, you were shut down. Either way, you were not conscious for the last months.” Soul motioned for me to continue following him, so I did. As we walked along, I continued asking the bald man questions.
“So, what are these tests going to be like?” As I asked, we entered a large room with strange greenish black panels all over the walls, ceiling, and floor. There were several doors of the same color on the far side of the room. “Um, what is this place?”
“This, Mr. Carter, is the simulation chamber.” The door swung shut behind us as we entered. “This is where you shall undergo most of your tests and training. Commence Simulation One.” With that, Soul exited through one of the doors on the other side. For a minute or two, I stood in the middle of the room, unsure what I was supposed to do.
Then, the panels started glowing. Suddenly, I was standing in the middle of a desert, with the sun beating down on my metallic skin. I guess that was what Soul meant by ‘simulation’. Then, three men in desert-cameo rags appeared a few yards in front of me, each wielding a military grade machine gun. Their skin was a darker shade, and they spoke to each other in an odd language that I didn’t recognize. Then, the men spotted me and shouted something at me in their foreign tongue. The three started running towards me and shooting their weapons in the air.
As the men charged at me, my mind was racing. This is a simulation, right? These guys can’t hurt me. They’re probably just holograms or something. Then, one of the men fired his weapon at me. Two speeding bullets grazed my metallic arm and bounced away with a clang. Ok, I thought, these guys might me real. I quickly turned around and began to run. I was surprised at how fast my robotic body could go. As I sprinted, I focused on the dashboard in the corner of my vision. The speedometer calculated my speed to be 30 miles-per-hour. That was the fastest I had ever heard of anyone running before.
“Wow. This is awesome!” I ran and ran, and soon, the three men were far off in the distance. I stood on top of a large sand dune and looked out on to the desert horizon. “Well, now what do I do?” I said to myself.
“Try enhancing your senses.” Soul’s voice echoed loudly in my ears, making me jump five feet in the air.
“Enhancing my senses? How?” I was amazed at how high I had jumped, and while waiting for a reply from the loud bodiless voice of the hairless scientist, I started jumping up and down. I had a vertical of at least 15 feet!
“To enhance your senses, you must learn to give mental commands to you’re the cybernetic portion of your mind.” Soul’s voice echoed, “Focus on an object in the distance, and think, ‘zoom’.”
I didn’t fully understand, but I turned to the distant figures of the men and cameo and focused on them. “Zoom?” I said out loud. Suddenly, a small vertical scrolling bar appeared in the upper right corner of my visor. I was able to mentally adjust the bar, and immediately it was as if the men had moved 100 yards in zero time at all! I could easily see what the men were doing. I had literally zoomed in on them. They had stopped running towards me, and we now building a fire and setting up a desert campsite.
“Well done Adam! Now, focus again and return your vision to normal.” I did as Soul said. “Good. Now, enhancing your hearing isn’t quite as simple. You have to increase and decrease volume, and also filter out any other noises mentally. Give it a try. Here, let me add a little extra sound.” As soon as he finished speaking, a large wind began blowing sand around. The wind, along with the sand sliding down the hill, caused a lot of background noise. I tried focusing on the white noise of the wind, but couldn’t seem to get rid of it.
“I can't do it!” I shouted over the wind.
“Adam, focus on my voice.” I could barely hear him, but I did as Soul said. “Good. Now, try to increase the volume of my voice, and decrease the volume of all other noises.” I focused and tried to imagine his voice louder. Just then, a small box with pitch, volume, and sound filtering options appeared where the zoom adjuster once was. I mentally changed the levels until the sound of the wind and sand was almost gone. “Mr. Carter, can you hear me now?”
“Loud and clear, Soul.” I was pretty proud of myself. I had figured out how to mentally control my digital brain. It was as if my eyes were a computer screen, and my mind was the mouse. “What's next?”
“I would check back on your friends with the machine guns.” After Soul spoke, I zoomed in on the men in cameo again. They were setting up some sort of missile and aiming it somewhere to my left. I zoomed out to try and figure out what they were attacking. I spotted a small encampment that wasn't there before. Upon focusing on it, I spotted an American flag waving proudly in the center. Soul spoke once again. “Well Mr. Carter, I suggest you stop that warhead.”
“How do I do that!? I'm not on the Bomb Squad!” I had know idea how I was supposed to redirect a missile.
“Just try your best, Mr. Carter.” With that statement, Soul's voice fell silent. I sighed and began running at my 30 mile-per-hour pace. In no time at all, I had reached the men in cameo, along with the warhead. The men grabbed their guns and came towards me.
“Um... I suggest you stop that missile.” My voice was uneasy and my stance was less than confident, but I put all four of my fists up, trying to look threatening. The men laughed, and then one of them said a command in their odd language. The other two immediately began shooting at me. I put my arms up against my face and braced for the impact... Only to discover the bullets were bouncing right off of me in all directions. The men stopped shooting; I guessed they were afraid of getting hit by backfiring bullets.
The men threw their weapons down and raised their fists, ready for a fight. Meanwhile, I noticed a clock counting down from three minutes on an old computer screen near the small missile. I needed to do something, and quick.
While I was looking at the clock, one of the men charged at me and swung a wild fist at me. It hit me, but I could barely feel it. He swung another fist and hit me in the face, again without inflicting any damage. I then took an uppercut shot to his stomach with my lower right arm, and the guy went flying upward and backward about ten feet! I was amazed at the damage I had inflicted with one punch. The other two looked at their fallen friend and then charged me. After a few missed swings, I managed to inflict quite a bit of damage. The three men struggled to their feet and began to run away.
“Come on guys? What’s wrong? Can't handle Ace Carter?” I shouted as they ran. I was having a lot of fun, that is, until I felt and heard the rumbling. I turned around to see the missile taking off. It quickly flew toward the American base. Seconds before impact, the missile stopped in mid air. The desert landscape disappeared, revealing the green-paneled simulation room once again.
“Well done Mr. Carter.” I looked up to see Soul peeking out of an open panel about one story above. “You are an exceptionally fast learner. You'll be combat-ready in no time.”
“But I failed. I didn't stop the missile.” I thought a moment. “Wait, what do you mean by 'combat-ready'?”
“I'll explain at dinner. Meet me at the mess hall.” With that, the panel closed and Soul disappeared from my view.
After getting lost in the massive building for around 30 minutes, I found my way to the cafeteria. The large room was crowded with long rectangular tables, and the tables were crowded with people. Dozens of men and women were eating. Some wore business suits, some lab coats, and some coveralls like the men I had seem before my accident. One thing I noticed that everyone wore red ties, not including the people in coveralls. It must have been a requirement in their uniform.1
I spotted Soul sitting at the end of a large table, an empty chair sitting near him. He had changed out of his lab coat and into a fancy business suit, still wearing a blue tie. As I made my way through the maze of tables and chairs, I noticed that none of the RRT employees seemed to acknowledge me, as if a four-armed cyborg was nothing unusual. I decided I would ask Soul about it later.
I met with Soul, grabbed some chicken pot pie that the kitchen was serving, and sat down next to the bald scientist. As we ate, I asked Soul as many questions as I could. He answered all of them. I learned that I was a prototype for a Super Soldier project that the President of the United Sates personally had Soul working on, entitled Bionic Blitzkrieg. Soul explained that the government wouldn't allow me to leave the RRT, which I had already assumed, but said that once the BB project is completed, I might be allowed to join the military as a Super Soldier. He said that throughout the next few months, I would be put through many training exercises, simulations, testings, and evaluations, to get me ready for the deadline of the project. He didn't reveal the date of the deadline, but he referred to it as V-L Day. I wasn't sure what that meant.
After dinner, Soul had two short, portly scientists show me to the room I would be staying in. It was rather empty, with a dresser, closet, and a bed with two chords dangling from it. The chubby scientists demonstrated how to attach the chords to two ports on opposite sides of my neck. The men left, and I laid down on the old bed and thought about the life changing things I had been through. I stared at the ceiling for an hour, reviewing all the facts Soul had revealed to me that afternoon before shutting down. I still had so many questions, but one thing was certain: I was going to have an interesting year.

Sleep. Normally, it's a portal into the magical realm of dreams, but for me, it had become a place of inescapable visions and terrors. Visions of the pain of the surgery. Images of my parents, of my friends, and worst of all, the terrible sight of Mrs. Roots. Sometimes, on rare occasions, I would dream normally, like a human being should, but the dreams seemed to always be interrupted by images and glimpses of my past memories. I asked Soul about it once. He told me that my robotic half of my brain was based solely on information, controls, and memory storage. He said that as my human brain sleeps, my computerized brain transfers memories into storage. As the memories are downloaded, they appear in my conscious mind.
Over the coarse of the next month, I under went dozens of simulations taking place in many different places. From the deserts of the middle east, to the humid jungles of Korea, or the dark alleys of New York City, I battled robots disguised as thugs, terrorists, and even army soldiers. I was becoming quite the fighter as well. Every simulation was difficult in its own way, but by far, the worst simulation was the one that took place in frozen Antarctica.
As I entered the large simulation room, the panels turned turned into a white sky. The floor turned to ice and snow, and frozen rain began falling from the icy clouds above. The flat land morphed into large hills and mountains of ice and snow.
“Mr. Carter,” Soul's voice echoed throughout the landscape, “Your mission is to retrieve a prototype assault rifle from a secret military base a mile up the mountain directly north of your position.” Soon, the wind began blowing, and the words WEATHER ADVISORY appeared in the center of my vision. The sky turned dark and the snowfall thickened. I was officially caught in the middle of a blizzard. “Begin.” Soul said.
I soon began hiking my way up nearest mountain. The snow was blinding me and preventing me from hearing much sound in the distance. I noticed that the cold didn't seem to bother me. I figured that my armored body was insulated enough to withstand the torturous weather of the Antarctic wasteland. I was very, very wrong.
After hiking for about three fourths of a mile, I could make out the lights of the base above through the falling snow. Suddenly, I realized that I couldn't feel my lower left arm. Flashing red words saying CAUTION ENERGY FAILURE appeared in front of me. Soon, three of my arms had shut down, leaving only my top right arm functional.
“Um... Soul?” I shouted through the wind, “What's going on?”
“It appears your motor functions are shutting down do to the cold.” He answered.
“Can I stop?” My last arm began twitching as I used it to climb.
“No. We need to see how long your body can last at this extreme temperature.”
“Alright...” I pressed on, my limbs spazzing out and twitching occasionally. Eventually, I reached the base. As I approached the large barbwire fence, I was greeted by the sound of a security alarm. Immediately, five men dressed in thick white snowsuits exited the large concrete facility and approached me, rifles ready. Using my remaining hand, I pulled the fencing open wide enough to fit through. I entered the base and stood ready to fight. The men stopped about 10 yards away and began firing at me. I dodged most of the shots, but one bullet hit the dead center of my arm, causing my armor to crack and break. The cold must be making me brittle... I thought, and another shot to the shoulder seemed to confirm my inquiry.
After some time, and multiple cracks and holes in my armor, I got close enough to take out three of the soldiers. I grabbed one of the rifles and, using my computerized aiming system, shot the guns out of the hands of the remaining guards. The two went running toward the concrete building. Suddenly, my right knee gave in, and I fell into a kneel. I held the rifle up in the air.
“Here's your rifle, Soul. Now get me out of here!”
“Sorry Adam, but that is not the prototype. You'll find the target inside.”
“You've got to be kidding me...” I began crawling, which is not easy to do with one leg and one arm. After moving a few feet, DANGER! flashed in my face. VISION FAILURE LIKELY. I was blind. I continued crawling, but then felt my last arm fail. I couldn't move. I laid there for what seemed like forever, shouting at Soul and receiving no answer. Then, everything ended.
The next thing I knew, I was in my small gray bedroom. My armor was fixed, and I could move all my limbs normally. My internal calender read Sunday. The simulation had been on Thursday. I sighed and unplugged the cords from my neck. As I stood up, I felt lighter, as if I had taken rocks out of my pockets or something. I exited the room and entered the large open warehouse area. Workers, scientists, and inventors were busy doing their own thing. Workers carried boxes and crates to certain rooms as the geniuses walked about consulting clipboards or typing information into portable computers and smartphones. I didn't see Soul anywhere, and figured he must have been working. I saw one of the portly scientists that I had recently met walking by.
“Dr. Fawnburg,” I said catching up to him, “Have you seen Soul around?” As I asked, I studied the man. He was short, probably only about five feet tall, and chubby. His round face was home to large, black-rimmed, round glasses, which magnified his dark brown eyes tenfold. His thinning brown-gray hair sat above is large round ears. His round nose crinkled up as he smiled through his thick brown mustache.
“Adam! I see you've made a full recovery from your chilly situation Thursday. I must say many of us were quite worried about you.”
“Fawnburg, I told you. Call me Ace.”
“Ace. Quite. How do you like your new armor? Much lighter than that ancient material you had before, isn't it?”
“New material? What is it made of?”
“A special titanium alloy I invented myself. I call it 58-AL-5-Z, or Militium Z, for short. It is stronger, lighter, and withstands extreme temperatures better than the old alloy.” Fawnburg grinned with excitement. “I bet you're wondering what the name means, aren't you?”
“Well, I don't-”
“Of course you are!” He interrupted, “The prefix Milit- means soldier, and ium means...” I started to ignore him after that. The guy could really ramble on about scientific stuff. I was really starting to like Fawnburg. He was like the strange old uncle I never had. He was much more humorous than Soul, and really supported my ideas. At the time, I was trying to convince him to get me a blue, red, and yellow paint job. I soon found myself getting very close to Fawnburg.
After he was done talking about metal alloys, Fawnburg told me that Soul was in the Top Secret Information lab. I had never been allowed in there. Only a select few individuals, including Fawnburg, were allowed in the room. I had been picking at Fawnburg to tell me what went on in there. We soon reached the metal door with a large sign reading AUTHORIZED PERSONEL ONLY. Fawnburg slid his ID card through a scanner and entered the room. Moments later, he came back out.
“Soul will be finished in about 30 minutes.” Fawnburg announced, “He instructed me to take you to the secondary diagnostics chamber.” We started walking towards the opposite end of the warehouse. As we walked, I questioned Fawnburg about the TSI lab.
“So Dr. F,” I said, “What is Soul doing in the TSI today? Inventing squirrel robots? Chatting on the phone with the president? Hacking NASA?”
“Sorry Ace, but I can't tell you.” Fawnburg shrugged his shoulders.
“Come on, Fawnburg. Tell me something about it! I just want to know what's in there.”
Fawnburg thought for a moment. His voice lowered to a whisper. “Very well. The lab is full of computer monitors and large, advanced keyboards. On each computer, there are millions of files on technologies, inventions, plans, and even people.”
“People? Like, foreign leaders and things like that?”
“No, mostly files on people that live right here in Lincoln. There were probably dozens of files on you, Adam Carter, before you even had your accident.” He paused as two mechanics walked by, “I've said too much. Go to the diagnostics chambers. I'll see you later.”
The rest of the day, I went through diagnostics, did some motor skills tests, and went through two or three simulations. Finally, it was time for bed. I returned to my room and plugged in my power cords. Before shutting down, I couldn't help but wonder, why would the RRT, why would Soul have information on the people of Lincoln, Nebraska? What significance did they have in developing government super soldiers? Something didn't seem right. I decided to do some investigating.