“Allied Agriculture had been the second highest corporation on the value market with Mills being first. People began to divide into two factions—those that sought to repair the ecosystems and those who believed the population wouldn’t survive long enough to achieve that goal. We believed that technology would better serve the future.”
She stops for a moment and smiles.
“My family was in the medical division, and my father, Robert Grace, worked directly for Mills. He had already been working on alternate food sources when the comet was discovered. He knew it was our only chance, but he had colleagues that disagreed. Some of them defected and went to the Carson Administration—the education sector. As more and more people began to switch sides, ideologies became further divided. Education sided with agriculture, and technology sided with health.
“In the end, Mills absorbed Danuk, and Carson joined with Allied Agriculture, forming the Carson Alliance. Graham Mills, the president of the Mills Conglomerate, had the foresight to und
erstand my father’s position and the need for synthetic nourishment. He focused the technology division on that goal. The Carson Alliance perceived this as a direct threat to their profitability, believing the technical resources should be devoted to improving agriculture and replenishing resources.”
Riley stops for a moment and collects herself.
“It started with raids of the tech facilities. Many of the people with the most brilliant technical minds were kidnapped and forced to work for the Carson Alliance. Mills eventually had no choice but to mobilize the military and declare martial law in its territories. CA rebelled. They refused to supply the Mills-controlled hemisphere with food and clean water. Everyone suffered as the stored food began to be rationed, and fresh water became the most expensive merchandise for any given household. Families fleeing from the CA territories were employed by Mills to raise crops, but the land was far too devastated. CA’s refusal to fulfill their contract under the Articles of Life was essentially an act of war. Eventually, Mills responded in kind.”
She stops again and looks away. I can see her jaw clench.
“When I was a girl, my father spent years traveling from city to city, giving talks on synthetic food. He was a direct threat to CA’s profits. On one of his tours, he was assassinated.”
A mixture of emotions flows over me as I witness moisture forming in the corner of her eye. Sympathy and compassion come first, but then an overwhelming anger follows. I clench my hands into fists as rage takes over.
“Who did it?” I ask through clenched teeth. I’ll find who is responsible. I’ll tear whoever it is apart with my bare hands until there is nothing but strips of flesh and shards of bone.
“Calm,” she says quietly as her fingers stroke my left forearm. My body responds to her words like a command, and the tension flees from my muscles. The transition is so abrupt, I can’t help but question it. I don’t know this woman. I don’t know any women. A moment ago, I was ready to kill for her. Now, I am completely relaxed.
“What was that?” I whisper. I stare up at her, needing answers. “What just happened to me?”
“We’re jumping a little ahead,” she responds. “You are still very new. There is so much to explain, but it’s a lot to comprehend all at once. I know it feels a little strange, but you will get used to it. Forget about it for now.”
I nod, accepting her words. I blink a few times and can barely remember what I was asking her about. I focus on her again with narrowed eyes. I had just asked her something—something important. What was it? What were we talking about?
A war.
“The war is still going on?” I ask.
“Yes,” Riley says, “but the conditions are very different now than they were in the beginning. Using their stolen technical resources, CA militarized their agriculture machines. They decided their ideology was the only way to save the planet, and all those who didn’t conform to their point of view were their enemies. When CA’s aircraft appeared in the sky, relentlessly bombing Mills-controlled major cities and the small areas of land we had begun to cultivate, chaos ensued. Milton, the capital city where we are now, was practically left in ruins. Our people began to starve. As the Mills military forces tried to mobilize, we knew a new breed of soldier would be necessary—one that could withstand the elements and fight without fear. Our soldiers would need to be stronger and faster than the average human. They would be the only chance of infiltrating CA’s defenses and bringing the war to an end. Project Mindstorm was born.”
She reaches out and touches my shoulder. My body stills in response to her touch as my skin tingles.
“That’s where you come in.”
“I…I volunteered?”
“You and the others like you, yes,” Riley says. “CA has the advantage with their war machines. We need the ability to move in behind the machines and destroy the control centers. They outnumber us in people and machines. An all-out assault is too easy to counter. The need for a super-solider became apparent.”
“Was I part of the Mills Corporation?”
“Very likely, yes,” she says.
“What did you do to me?” I’m not sure I want to know.
“Through a combination of cybernetic enhancements and drug treatment, you are now faster, stronger, and smarter than the average human. You have almost complete control over the muscles in your body. You can move and manipulate them at will. You can access the information that has been stored in your primary implant, calculate tactical advantages, and determine the best course of action in any given situation. There are…drawbacks. The first trials were ultimately unsuccessful, but I believe we have rectified these issues with your group and found the solution.”
“What was the solution?”
“Enough for now,” she says as she stands. “Do you feel like you are ready to get out of that bed? I want to see how well the physical modifications have taken hold, and I’ll need to take you to one of the testing rooms for that.”
“Yeah.” Leaving this bed suddenly seems like the best idea ever. I want to get up. I want the restraints off of me. I need to touch her skin with my hands.
Riley glances up at the mirror on the back wall and nods. A moment later, the door opens and three men in military uniforms step just inside. They’re good-sized guys armed with long rifles, but they’re not like me. I know they aren’t.