"Today's tests involve what you may have already expected."
I frown at Number One and set my hand on my hip. "Stealing?"
His eyes narrow. "You are running," he says slowly. "I will be calculating your endurance, speed, pace, factors along those lines. Understood?"
"Where are they?" I demand. Someone knows where Travis's tags went. My first guess would be him.
However, he looks genuinely confused. "What are you talking about?"
"The tags that were around my neck. Where did they go?"
He crosses his arms. "How would I know?"
I shove him and he stumbles backward, not expecting the sudden explosion on my part. "Someone took them. I'm not doing a thing until I get them back."
"We have work to do." He snags my wrist and proceeds to lead me to a section of the room with a long, straight strip of tar, that I assume is supposed to resemble a track. I tear my hand away from him and he crosses his arms. "This is where you will begin and end. A bot will state the rules—"
I scoff and shake my head. "You're crazy if you think—"
"—and I will preside over it, recording and determining your strengths, weaknesses, the works," he says louder, talking right over me. He walks away and goes to the nearest wall where a bot resides, and clicks a button to bring it to life. Its suit is entirely black like the rest of the ones in this area. Number One gives him no initial command; the bot has obviously been programmed specifically for this place. This Training Center. The bot steps forward and a wide beam of bluish light scans me from top to bottom, making me feel like I'm being electronically searched at an airport. I freeze up.
"5," the bot confirms. "Take your stance and prepare to sprint until you reach the white mark on the opposite end of the track. Ready? Five...four...three..."
"What? No!" I turn to Number One who has the biggest smirk on his face. "I'm not—"
"Two...one..."
"Go," Number One encourages in a slick, impatient voice.
I shoot out like a bullet from a gun—a gun that shoots slow—and push myself to get to the victory line at the opposite end of the track. When my feet cross the white paint, I come to a gradual stop. To get what I want, I'm going to have to play this stupid game for a bit. But I will get what I want.
From the other side of the room, I shout at Number One. "This..." I pant, "is bullshit!" I bend in half and set my hands on my knees to catch my breath. I'm ready to pass out.
"Response not available," I hear the bot spout out.
Number One bursts into laughter at it, but I don't find it the least bit humorous. "Let's see you run back," he yells, chuckling.
I shake my head no as I gasp at the air around me, thankful I don't have to do this with a mask on. "Let's not."
"Run," Number One growls. "Now."
My lips furls up in disgust, but I do what I have to and bolt.
"I thought the bots were in charge of my training," I sneer once I reach the other side, wishing so bad I could just punch him in the face.
Number One smiles maliciously. "But I control him, you see?" he says rhetorically before belting out more instructions. "Time to jog. And please just do it so I don't have to make you." He expels a sigh, not because he's tired, but perhaps he's bored or simply fed up with my stubbornness.
Like I care.
The bot speaks up again. "Number Five, you are to complete one lap, which requires you to reach the white line and back. There is no time limit. This is to further test pace and endurance. Five...four...three..."
"Ugh," I grumble. When he hits one, I'm off without any forcible coaxing. A steady pace is key in order for me to reach the goal without keeling over. I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth, as my teacher had once told my gym class years ago, but I don't see how it helps. Still, I do it. When I cross the white line, a sense of relief washes over me; I'm halfway done. Thirty more feet...twenty...ten...
"Wow, you are out of shape," Number One snidely comments.
My defenses hike up. "Maybe if I wasn't locked up for days on end I'd be just fine. So you can blame yourself for that."
He rolls his eyes and holds his hands up innocently. "I'm simply stating the facts aloud. Nothing more, nothing less."
"Yeah well maybe you should learn to keep your so-called 'facts' to yourself. If you didn't already know, I don't want to hear you speak." His plan to make me feel bad about myself doesn't work. I have no desire to improve, no desire to be anything he's asking me to be. So his words are as pointless as a sphere.
Number One tilts his head toward the bot as if he's waiting for it to take his side. For once, I'm glad they can't hold conversation. Instead, it relays the following: "Test complete. You will retake this test at the end of today's course." It then takes a sharp turn and saunters back to its slot against the wall.
I groan when the trio becomes a very unwanted duo.
"Moving on," he says, and walks to another area inside the space.
"Uh-uh," I reject. "Now you do what I want. Tell me where they are!" I demand as he distances himself from me.
He stops in the middle of an open floor and eventually spins around. "That is classified," he answers robotically, and I instantly do a double-take, like I had mistaken his body for a bot.
I storm over to him and stomp my foot like a child. "Enough with that!" I shout at him, my voice echoing in the wide space. "Tell me, or I'm done."
He chuckles, the corner of his lips perking up. "Like you have a choice."
"I'm not moving until someone starts talking."
"Remember what I can do," he warns, before spinning on his heels and heading for a some type of control console.
Does he think he scares me?
Okay, he does a little.
"These are the controls for the obstacle course. It is completely customizable with different levels and difficulties. It is very much like a virtual game, with the exception that it actually affects you. If you miss a holo ring, you will get zapped. If you don't duck when a ray is shot at you, it will sting. If you try to run through a—"
"I get it," I snap.
"These courses cannot kill you," he continues angrily, "but they can beat you up if you are prone to idiocy." His hands dance across the control panel and a transparent screen illuminates above him. As he clicks more buttons, I watch obstacles formulate on the screen. So far, it looks daunting. "Let me start you off with a beginner's course." He steals a quick glimpse at me and then hits the button ACCEPT INPUT.
I hear a beep and a futuristic military course gradually materializes out of thin air behind me. I watch the course build itself up, starting at the beginning point. My mesmerization of the technology only last seconds, though, as I observe what's ahead of me. First, is a section which appears to simulate a tire run; however, instead of tires, eight glowing, pink holographic rings hover in the air. Their luminescence is so vibrant they seem lifelike, as if I can reach out and grab one. After them, is an approximately twelve-foot wall in a pattern resembling honeycomb, which contains hexagonal holes to shove hands and feet through. Unable to see clear enough after that, I'm in for a surprise from then on.
"TC-003: regenerate," Number One says aloud. Out comes the same bot from before to fulfill his duties of the course—which basically means counting down from five. Stupid.
It scans me again. I don't feel as awkward about it this time, but it's still annoying, and I involuntarily cringe. "Number Five, you are to complete this course in its entirety. If you fail an obstacle, you are to restart the obstacle. If you fail the same obstacle three times, you are to start from the very beginning of the course. You will be timed for each obstacle and for the entire course. Only once you pass this course with zero faults will you be able to progress to a new one. Test begins in five...four...three..."
I close my eyes, having hardly a clue as to what he just said to me. I steal a look at Number One, who leans up against the wall and waits for my next move. I'm confident that he will force me to do this if I don't comply, but that still doesn't make me want to. Things are about to get ugly.
The holographic rings are hard. Correction: they're impossible. It's like trekking through a field of enraged jellyfish. They're much higher that I'd measured in my head, so on my first go, I only get through three rings before I'm zapped just below my knee caps.
As I examine the forming welts, I hear, "Restart!" Number One is shouting from the sidelines with a cruel smile.
I jog back to the beginning of the rings and retry, a fire in my stomach. On the last ring, my left foot goes in a hair too early in one and grazes the edge. Zap. Before my third go, I take a minute and analyze the dumb floating circles, mapping out a better strategy.
Then I ace it.
Next is the wall. I immediately begin to climb. Right hand. Left foot. Left hand. Right foot. Up. Up. Up. I reach the top effortlessly and a sense of accomplishment works its way onto my face. However once I'm at the summit, I freeze. Do I jump down? Climb down?
"Pole. There is a pole, Number Five," Number One advises.
Well I did see the pole, but since it's almost three feet from me I figured it was separate. There's no way I'm going to be able to reach it. Not only am I terrified of heights, but what if the pole doesn't work and it slips through my fingers when I grab it? If I fall this high up it would certainly crack a bone or two.
Don't look down. Don't. Look. Down.
I shut my eyes to ease my paranoia and draw in one long breath. Meanwhile, Number One eggs me on, reminding me that I'm timed. I need to just get this over with. I can do this.
Without further ado, I open my eyes and propel myself off the ledge, my arms outstretched. When my fingers coil around the pole, I clutch onto it with my life and wrap my legs around it to secure myself more. My eyes water with relief and fear, but I made it.
I slide down, drop onto my feet, and face what's next. Five two-foot barriers sporadically emerge from the ground and lock into place ahead of me. Clueless, I weave through them to the other side, but two barriers in, I am abruptly confronted by a neon orange, holographic figure. I gasp at the sight of it and what it is holding—a gun.
The second I'm in its view, red-tinted rings expel from the barrel.
To avoid the shots, I throw myself to the ground behind one of the barriers and take cover. Now I see the purpose of the half-walls. The figure resumes firing, the sound of the shots coming off as a garbled reverberating noise, like words spoken underwater. I poke my head up to see where the person is, and dart to another barrier to get a better angle. He shoots again, this time striking my collarbone. My body instantly becomes immobile and I fall to the ground, shaking as though I'd been struck by a taser. I've lost all control and can't...move.
"Get up and repeat! He won't shoot you when you walk back."
"I c-c—"
Electricity still swimming inside me, I gradually get to my feet with the occasional jitter and hobble back to the start of the obstacle. I don't want to do it again, let alone do the whole thing again if I fail it three times. I step over the line and instantly duck behind a wall, remembering the location of the guy. He's two walls down from me and to the right. I'll go diagonally. The trick must be to map out where to go. It's all about planning. Making a strategy.
Once I sprint to the next barrier, I am taken by surprise when the figure appears in a different spot than before. He shoots at me when his face registers my presence, but my reflexes kick in just in time for me to roll onto the floor.
"Not fair!" I shout, totally out of breath.
"It would be too easy if he were in the same spot," Number One calls.
I break into a zigzagged run to dodge the figure and the gunshots. When I see the line, I dive toward it just to be done with the obstacle, and clear any shots fired. I hear Number One laugh, but I don't let it get to me. He's a jerk. It's nothing new.
The next obstacle is basically monkey bars, which I've always been decent at as a kid. I climbed numerous trees when I was younger; the struggle was always getting down. I leap up to grab the first bar and blaze through them on my first attempt. Easy. I approach a series of tunnels next.
"You only have twenty-five seconds for this one."
This obstacle will involve ducking and crawling on my elbows. The only hard part about this is the time limit, which I was unaware of until Number One shouted it at me three seconds ago. I swear he's making half of these rules up.
I complete it the first time in thirty-five seconds, and that was with all my energy. My second time clocks in at thirty-six seconds. I can only imagine that I'll progressively get worse. It's super easy, but I'm just too worn out to do it within the time limit. After one final inhalation, I drop to my elbows and dig into the ground, using every muscle fiber I have. Counting in my head doesn't work after the first five seconds; it's too distracting. Forward is my sole focus.
I race through the tunnels at full speed and come out exhausted. Panting, I use my hands and knees to get up, lingering for the time from Number One. "Twenty-nine."
I groan. "No! Are you serious?"
He does a twirling motion with his finger, signaling me to restart the entire thing. I close my eyes and sulk to the beginning.
The holo rings were a breeze, but I did take my time on them. The wall was a little harder, because my arms were mega tired. When I reached the top, I jumped and caught the pole but didn't grasp it hard enough, so I slid down much quicker and wound up landing on my knees, which killed them. I didn't get shot, which was relieving—mostly because I rested a lot behind the barriers. I had to redo the monkey bars once because my right arm gave out, causing me to slip and land hard on my back, which temporarily knocked the wind out of me. I've never felt more dead than I do now, but I'm ready to kick the last obstacle's ass.
And I do.
"Twenty-four seconds."
I collapse.
"Would you like to know all of your times?" Number One asks as he nears me.
I shake my head and close my eyes, breathing loud and hard.
"You have one more thing to do today, you know."
My eyes flash open as I recall the running test. It's to be repeated at the end of every session. Somebody kill me.
I finish the dumb running test with triple the time I had before, but I really don't care at this point. I want to sleep for eternity.
"You are officially finished. I will drop by your room to inform you with the scores tomorrow before we come back. You may leave."
"Tomorrow?"
My back feels broken and my arms are noodles as I head back to my cell. Once I'm there, I lay in one frozen position all through the night, sore beyond comprehension.