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Prologue


The night was hot, and the air was still. Bright lights filled a room of steel. There were no windows, and it was a bit too small for its purpose. In one corner was a desk, stacked with books left open and papers all over the place. There was a computer on it, pulled up to a diagram of some machine. The computer screen showed each piece with its description, operation and current health. In the lower left hand corner, the date read Winter, day 60, 2110. On the wall to the deskā€™s right was a bookshelf crammed with books on computers, humans, planets and about every other scientific subject man had written. Most of them were leather-bound, large and very old. One had a date reading from 2000. Scattered throughout the rest of the room were machines, tools, chests, microscopes and fridges that read out research material. By the door stood two very anxious young women dressed in red clothes with black seams. They were armed with automatic guns. Instead of watching the door, however, their eyes were on the center of the room.
In the center of the room was a woman around nineteen years old. She wore a lab coat, gloves, a face mask, a sterile white outfit underneath the coat and a cloth over her head. She was bent over a table holding a machine the size of a backpack, her entire focus drawn on her project, her long amber hair in a pony tail. It had several power sources, including a uranium-powered energy cell in its core. It was round, with tubes and chords all over it. There were switches and buttons labeled carefully in a basic language that appeared to be a cross between English and Spanish. The screen was about the size of your average novel face.
ā€œDone.ā€ She called happily. ā€œThere. Now itā€™s stable for testing. Could you two please leave the room and ask somebody to bring in the volunteers? Iā€™m quite sure itā€™s adequate for testing.ā€
They nodded and left. The girl turned on the machine, watching it carefully. Its screen flashed. Small lettering and coding ran along it. The self-check read ā€˜successfulā€¦errors - 0ā€™. She watched the chemicals travel to make sure everything worked alright and nothing leaked. Nothing was unusual. She smiled, relaxing quite a bit.
So long as some imbecile doesnā€™t drop this thing, weā€™ll be fine. Just in caseā€¦Iā€™ll request that those two stay out of the room.


The guards followed in three men, one in a similar outfit to the woman. The other two were in all-black uniforms, obviously sterile.
ā€œGreat. We need this room to remain sealed. Could you two wait outside, so nothing distracts us?ā€
ā€œBut Sable,ā€ One of them glanced at the bar code tattoos on the volunteersā€™ arms.
ā€œGo on. Iā€™m fine.ā€ She moved her hands in a gentle shooing motion. The guards hesitated, and then quickly exited. Sable turned to the other three.
ā€œPlease step in front of the device.ā€ She said formally. ā€œAs my assistant straps this prototype onto you, I will explain how it works and why there are two of you.ā€
The man in the lab coat walked the volunteers to stand right in front of the device. He picked it up, straining a little bit for a second.
ā€œPlease be careful. This is powerful tool.ā€ She said it as if directed toward the volunteers, but the assistant knew better. ā€œSince itā€™s only a prototype, the design is yet unsafe for outside use.ā€ The assistant brought it over to the first man, who was looking a little unnerved at the words ā€˜be carefulā€™ and ā€˜unsafeā€™.
What a gutless coward! He chose to do this!


There was yelling from outside the door, surprising the man just as he was setting the straps on the volunteer. He jumped, dropping it. Sable gave a shout just as it hit the floor and exploded. Pain ripped through her heart and she hit the wall.
Then she saw and felt nothing.


Chapter One
Procedures


Terra Lain stared in horror at the body lying on the floor, against the wall. Shrapnel had pierced her heart. There was only blood where her left leg and right arm should be. From her left ear and nose dripped a stream of the same thick, crimson liquid. Medics rushed by her, wearing the H.A.D uniform. She tried to get to her first, so she could say good-bye before they burned the body, but somebody grabbed her before she could.
ā€œNo, Terra! She isnā€™t dead! Stay out of the way!ā€ Somebody was shouting.
She pulled against the one thing keeping her from her sister.
ā€œThereā€™s still poison in that room, Terra!ā€ The same voice sounded confused and angry. She was straining to keep Terra from rushing in the room.
Why keep me from her? I donā€™t care if itā€™s dangerous!


ā€œCalm down, sis. H.A.D will save her. They always do!ā€
She whirled to see it was her sister, Deseray Iris. She was stronger than Terra, but smaller and younger. And she didnā€™t put thought into things.
ā€œAt the cost of what, Deseray? I donā€™t want to save a vegetable! Look at Sable! Half of her body was blown to bits in that blast!ā€
ā€œThere are prosthetic limbs, sis. She wonā€™t be crippled long. Iā€™m worried to, but Iā€™m not yelling at you.ā€
ā€œYou donā€™t get it, do you? H.A.D isnā€™t magical; it canā€™t replace her heart.ā€
Deseray looked confused. ā€œHeart transplants have been successful for centuriesā€¦ā€
ā€œDo you see a heart they can rush to her, right this second?ā€
The pain in her eyes was clear, but it seemed directed at Terra. ā€œCome on, Terra. Letā€™s talk to somebody about this, alright?ā€
She nodded, giving up seeing her sister in replace of seeing somebody who would save her. This was more like Deseray; thinking about what Terra always missed. Why try to save Sable without any medical know-how?
Deseray was walking toward the H.A.D main office. Were they going to complain about the situation, ask for the best of the best?
Waitā€¦what is she doing?


ā€œHello.ā€ She showed her ID, then Terraā€™s.
ā€œOh, yes, Sable Roseā€™s sisters, correct? Youā€™ll need to be seated right over there, until the evaluation is complete.ā€
ā€œYouā€™re only going to assess the damage?ā€ Terra snapped. ā€œWhy? She has provided you with half of the research you have on the human body ā€“ā€œ
ā€œSis, they have to know whatā€™s wrong. There might be something else we didnā€™t see. She hit her head pretty hard. They know what theyā€™re doingā€¦so please come sit down and stop yelling.ā€ Deseray looked a bit lost, and very frightened.
Furious, she followed her sister to a bench. But she didnā€™t sit. She couldnā€™t. Deseray was right; that was a lot of blood coming from her ear and nose. Could she be brain damaged? How in the emperor's name are they going to fix a broken brain?


ā€œPlease stop pacingā€¦ā€ Deseray begged. Terra didnā€™t even realize she was, but knew she couldnā€™t stop.
Everything is their fault! If theyā€™d placed her at a damn desk job, or as an assistant to a safer science, none of this would have happened!


Her fingers balled into fists. Her hand found her gun thoughtlessly.
ā€œUhā€¦Terraā€¦is your gun still loaded?ā€ Deseray sounded nervous. ā€œMaybe you should put that downā€¦ā€
The secretary was obviously getting nervous, too. She spoke quietly into her microphone, glancing at Terra.
Bitch. Iā€™m not leaving my sister for your damn nerves.


A couple of guards wearing a lower-ranking uniform approached them. They saw her weapon, her uniform that screamed 'Iā€™ve had more training than you' and hesitated. They carried pistols. Why would she call security? Waitā€¦
They had medical officer clothing. They werenā€™t just removing herā€¦
Iā€™m not crazy!


Deseray was getting up. She came up to stand beside Terra.
ā€œSis, Iā€™m sure they know youā€™re not crazy, but they need to help you get over this. Sable isnā€™t dead. The doctors will save her; I donā€™t know how, but they will. You need to talk to those guys for a while, so I need your gun.ā€
Sheā€¦doesnā€™tā€¦believe in meā€¦?


ā€œPlease? I know youā€™re not crazy, but they donā€™t. To prove that youā€™re not, you need to give me your gun. Just go talk with them, alright?ā€
Sighing, Terra gave her sister her gun. Whether she believed she was crazy or not, she was letting her go get mentally evaluated anyway.
What a sisterā€¦


She walked up the med guards and allowed them to walk her to an evaluation room. They looked both nervous and sympathetic; they werenā€™t sure if she was or wasnā€™t crazy. By the War, they looked down-right doubtful. After all, most crazies put up a fight, screaming about the aliens, big-brother theories and mind-control. Huh! She wasnā€™t insane.
They stood outside the door and sat her in a room. She hated waiting, but knew she had to take it. And for Sable, she would.

*****


Deseray sat on the bench for long hours, alone, waiting, thinking. Terra and Sable were always arguing, but they were close in their own way. She knew the problem wasnā€™t insanity; it was grief. But she also knew that this heavy of grief wasnā€™t normal. Not if she couldnā€™t grieve on the inside, like their training had taught them. Terra had always taken these things a bit hard, but privately; never had it been such a public display. She would be considered mentally unstable by the med staff because they couldnā€™t have such break-downs in the middle of war.
And Area Origin is pulling their usual bull shit. Another war is looking likelyā€¦


Then there was Sable. She was in critical condition, and though the evaluation had to be over, Deseray didnā€™t know the details, or why it was taking so long to put in fake limbs and a new heart. The explosion had been Deseray and Terra's fault; theyā€™d been arguing on whether or not to go in. The shouting had alarmed the man, and heā€™d dropped it. The only person to survive the explosion itself had been Sable. There were still gaps in knowledge about science. Would more knowledge prevent these events?
I will help them, then. After I know my sister has been taken care of, I will help themā€¦


*****


Terra sat there, holding her head, unable to answer this question for the third

time. Three different people, asking her questions over and over again, some the same, some different. But always this one question. She was tired of this; By the war, she was tired; tired of people, tired of the uniform, tired of questions and tired of this constant throb of pain from the knowledge that she was missing her sisterā€™s damage report, her surgery. And the fact that this man was watching her like she was insane.
I was trained to not show emotion. I am a soldier. I should never show my emotions, and now that I amā€¦ I will never leave the base again, will I? Will I be put in a strait jacket?


The man sighed. ā€œAre you able to answer the question, Terra Lain?ā€
ā€œYou mean for the third damn time? Fine, though your reports will tell you the same damn thing Iā€™m about tooā€¦I will answer you a third

time.ā€ She was

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