The Six Sectors

Prologue

A small, frail boy with white hair and robotic parts nervously glanced around the dull, blue gray lab, which was full of advanced weapons and bright, triangular data cores. He was distressed, for he did not know what was to become of him as the Board of Scientists of Ijetix discussed his fate. Another experiment - this time one with a tiny, black baby dragon with a white underbelly - looked up at him with wide baby blue eyes. Eyes of yearning.

Eyes yearning for freedom.

He tried to ignore the tiny creature as one of the scientists suddenly grabbed the boy's arm, dragging him into the room. He gave the dragon a final anxious glance, the tiny creature only gazing back. Moments later, the boy was shoved into a council room, which was similarly colored blue-gray, like the rest of the building. He felt eyes upon him. So. Many. Eyes. The room contained hundreds - if not thousands - of chairs, each one occupied by a scientist. He gulped. The leader of the board - Head Scientist Dr. Gladys Hanity - stood, fixing the boy with a scowl of disappointment and rage.

"Wheatley Steven Hanity, you are present before the council today, on account of showing emotions prior to another subject's death. Is this not correct?"

Indeed, the boy - Wheatley - was the heartless scientist's son. He detested her, just like how all the other Droids, Flora, and Fauna residing in the lab did. Just because he was her offspring didn't mean she treated him any differently than the rest of her 'subjects,' as she called them.

He nodded to answer her question. Wheatley didn’t feel ashamed - he thought emotions were normal. - At least, they were for ordinary people. Things weren't ‘normal’ like that in Ijetix, however, as he had discovered during his fifth year. The closest thing people in Ijetix got to happiness was when something was successful.

And Wheatley was not a successful experiment.

“Your punishment will be of the highest order: banishment from Ijetix.” Dr. Hanity said in a low voice. Wheatley opened his mouth to speak,  but she beat him to it, saying “I do not care that you are my offspring. As far as I know, you are dead to me.” Her visible eye narrowed. “Now leave this lab before I have you executed instead.” Wheatley gulped and nodded, running out of the council room panting, frantically trying to find a way out. Then his eyes landed on the dragon again. Before he had gone into the council room, he had only seen a dragon that was scared.

Now he saw himself. Wheatley bit his bottom lip. Then he smiled.

“Come on.” The 10-year-old cyborg said, patting his leg. “We can get out of here together.” The dragon’s eyes lit up as it followed, blasting a hole in the wall for the other subjects. Wheatley could hear the rain pounding on the sidewalk, and looked around for something to cover himself. He saw the lab blanket that he always kept around and grabbed it, putting it over his head. As the alarm rang, both him and the dragon ran, going as fast as their legs - or - wings -  could carry them. 

At the first sight of civilization, the dragon left, licking Wheatley’s cheek and setting off. He smiled, and waving it farewell, running off with the now soaked blanket over his head.

He couldn’t believe it.

He was free.