Chain Me

Green Doesn't Mean Go

     The General listened intently as Charles and I both gave our opinions on the subject and what should be done about her. Predictably, Charles tried to spin the incident yesterday to put me in a bad light, but I had raw footage of the events, audio included.
     Now that Charles has shut his mouth, I can prove what really happened. I play the footage over the large screen in the conference room, usually used for mission handouts and the like, and I point with my finger and the remote, leaning my butt on the edge of the long oak table in the middle of the room.
     "See?" I say, almost excitedly. The footage pauses as the subject begins to crouch low to the ground, her face aimed where Charles is standing. "She doesn't react until Charles starts to speak." I let the video play on, showing that the more aggressive Charles gets, the more aggressive the subject gets. "We need to figure out why."
     "She's an animal," Charles puts in bitterly.
     "She's not an animal," I snap back. "Not... exactly. I don't think..." Sighing and expelling my frustration with Charles, I refocus on the General. "She has been completely and utterly compliant until now. Something about Charles's voice puts her on attack. If we ever want her for us and out in the field, we should know why. We can prevent incidents like this in the future."
     The General leans back in his chair and taps the table top with a finger. He narrows his eyes at the screen on the wall and watches as the subject rams herself against her chamber to try to reach Charles.
     "She hasn't seen another person since arriving?" he asks, eyes on the screen.
     "She's been in complete isolation," I confirm. "Aside from hearing our voices."
     "And she... trusts you?"
     I stop the footage and place the remote gently in the table. "I believe so."
     The General finally looks at me. "You're a Watcher," he tells me. "You're untrained for contact."
     Ignoring Charles's smirk, I say, "I'm aware. But I've already built a rapport with the subject. We know with complete certainty that she doesn't react violently to me."
     "Are you willing to place your life on that statement?" The General gives me a look, almost sympathetic. "She hasn't seen another face for a long period of time. Who's to say she won't attack you the first chance she gets?"
     "I... I can't say." My Watcher status has not prepared me for anything of this kind, but I want to do it. "Give me a chance to try, General. If this works then we'll have a method of keeping the subject with us willingly. This could lead to something greater. But we have to make the initial attempt first. Please-"
     "I want a strength grade," the General interrupts. "Reflexes, agility, all of it. I want to know what she's capable of," he says, looking pointedly at me, "before we send you in."
     A smile cracks my lips and I hold back an exclamation of joy.
     "Put her in the arena and test her," he says. "Give me the results and then we'll see what we can do about a face to face. Deal?"
     Charles can grumble all he wants, I'm going to be doing something important. "Absolutely," I say cheerily.

                                                  -------------------------

     Today, or night, or noon, or whatever, I don't wake up in my room. A part of me expected this sooner or later, especially after my vicious stunt back in my room. But, to be fair, it was unavoidable. I was bound to get the blood lust eventually. It was better that I had a single focus rather than total destruction. And, oh, did I have a single focus. That ugly male voice was being cruel to the woman with the pretty voice and I just... lost it. I wanted his head on a spike and his tongue silenced forever. If it weren't for the needle-like bullet shot at me, I'd probably have my dismembered head.
     Shaking my head, I stand and finally try to figure out where I am. I'm alone, as usual, but I'm definitely not in a cell anymore. I'm in some type of huge open area filled with... I'm not sure. Machines and strange equipment spot the room here and there, sitting quiet and menacingly. I assume I'm in here to use these things, but for what? And why? Is this my punishment for what I did?
     My bare feet squish over the rubber flooring as I walk through the tremendously large room, my eyes roaming over the equipment around me. There's a humongous block of steel over there, sitting in its own little ditch, and there's an area of floor just here that looks to be an extended treadmill running belt. There are other things as well, but I can only guess at what they do. The only other thing I recognize is an enormous version of children's monkey bars.... but these are upside down... and on the ceiling. The roof of this place is so far up that no man made ladder could possibly reach it.
     "How are you feeling?" the woman with the pretty voice asks, startling me. I don't see her anywhere and her voice seems to have come from every which way.
     I squint at all the walls, barely able to see them with how wide and long this place is, but finally see something out of the ordinary. There's a dark window on the far wall, like the one I saw at Seras's precinct. The woman with the pretty voice is probably behind there.
     "I'm fine, thank you," I shout towards the dark rectangle.
     "Good. Do you want to try something new?"
     My eyes flick from here to there curiously. So this is a part of a new game and not a punishment? "Okay," I respond, wanting to know.
     "Do you see that metal square there? Do you know what it is?"
     I walk over to the block of metal and tap on it. It's solid and surely heavy. "No," I say, studying the area around the block. The little ditch it sits in is long and would only allow the block to be slide in it to hit the short wall at the end of it. There seems to be no purpose to this whole thing other than to move the block from one end to the other.
     "Push it," the woman tells me. "Can you do that?"
     Confused, I place my palms firmly on the block then push, sliding it a few feet before stopping. Like I thought, the block is heavy, extremely heavy, but it's nothing to me. "Like that?" I question, looking around the block to the dark rectangle on the wall.
     "Is that as far as you can move it?"
     Shrugging, I put my palms back to their positions and push again, this time sliding the block as far as it's allowed to go. It hits the short wall at the end of the ditch and I stop, still confused. "It only goes this far," I explain to the rectangle on the wall. Obviously the woman wants this block moved somewhere, and it makes me nervous that I don't know where. "I don't understand. Is this not where you want it?"
     There's a long minute of silence, making me shuffle my feet anxiously. Then, "Are you able to move it more?"
     I swallow. I'm still not understanding the purpose of this exercise, nor am I getting what the woman wants from me. "Where would you like it to be moved?"
     Silence again, this time followed by electronic beeping. I cock my head at the noise, knowing that it usually belongs to the woman's younger male companion. So he's watching me, too. Is the annoying old one there? My ears tell me yes, and my face hardens. I don't like him and I don't want him near the woman with the pretty voice.
     "Try moving it again," she says as I sulk. "This time back to where you found it."
     I move to the other side of the block and push like she wants, but it's much heavier this time and only budges a few inches. With a growl I use my shoulder and shove the block using more of my strength. This time it slides easily. The block thunks to a stop as it reaches its beginning position, and I turn my head to look at the dark rectangle hiding the woman with the pretty voice.
     "Are you tired?" she asks.
     "No."
     Silence and more beeps. Her and her friends mumble to one another for a while, then she says, "Do you see the bars on the ceiling?"
     Looking up, I respond, "Yes."
     "Can you reach them?"
     My face scrunches and I try to calculate how high I'd have to jump to reach the bars. They're definitely a few stories high, but exactly how many I don't know. It's hard to tell. But I can jump fairly high, and I think I can make it.
     "I will try," I tell the dark rectangle as I squat down. My butt wiggles like a cat watching its prey and my feet spread wider, then I push off and soar into the air.
     I miss the bars by a good few dozen feet.
     Ashamed, I fall to a knee as I land and prepare to jump again. "Please let me try again," I plead. I lick my lips and wait for a response, but I don't get one. It's not a rejection so I try again and push off harder than last time.
     My fingers brush against a bar and I'm quick to latch onto it, smiling as I swing softly. I'm proud of myself for succeeding and I'm sure it shows on my face as I stare at the rectangle on the wall. There's those beeps again, and a grunt from that old, ugly man I don't like. I ignore his presence the best I can and wait for the woman with the pretty voice to tell me what to do next.
     "Get ready," she says mysteriously.
     My hands tighten on the bars and before I can ask what I'm supposed to get ready for, numerous squares along the ceiling pull back, leaving gaping holes everywhere. I squint at the nearest one but don't see anything.
     And then it hits me. Literally.
     One of my hands slips and I cradle my nose with it as the object that struck me falls to the ground. My body rotates as I look down, and my lips bunch into a funny line as I watch the thing that hit me bounce away.
     It's a ball. A ball just hit me in the face.
     I pull my hand away from my nose and find my palm clean. Well, at least I didn't get a bloody nose. Grabbing the bar again, I swing myself back and forth, then heave my legs up to hook them on the bar. I hold on this way- hands firm and bar steady behind the backs of my knees- and stare at the rectangle on the wall.
     "What is-" My words cut off as another ball hits me in the butt. Shocked, I let go of the bar with my hands to swing from my legs, and I put my hands on my hips. "What game is this?" I ask in a huff. Another ball hits me in the chest but I take it, suddenly wondering if this is my punishment. If it is, it's the weirdest punishment I've ever had.
     "You're supposed to dodge them," the woman with the pretty voice explains.
     "Oh." I blink, finally getting it. Then I twist to the side to avoid another ball from hitting me. The woman hums in approval and I smile sheepishly, happy. I swing from bar to bar, jerking this way and that to avoid the little balls, all the while trying not to plummet to the ground. It's much easier than I would be, and it's actually quite fun. It's even draining enough to tire me out a little and keep my natural urges at bay.
     Eventually, though, the balls stop coming and the ceiling squares return to their rightful places. I'm left there to hang, blowing my hair out my face and flexing my fingers one at a time.
     "Can you get down?"
     I release my hold after she asks and I allow myself to fall gracelessly. When I'm close to the ground I tuck into myself, then roll when I reach the rubber flooring. I end in a crouch, my left wrist a little creaky. I haven't done a fall like that in a long time and I'm a bit rusty.
     "Are you tired yet?" the woman with the pretty voice asks when I stand and wiggle my limbs, proving I'm just fine.
     I shake my head and give a thumbs up.