Tech

05: Snow and steel

In a certain town in Russia

"No, no, be careful! These weapons can't be damaged, so take care with those crates!" The soldier yelled, terrified that the slightest mistake would provoke the man standing nearby. He ran to help the men carrying the crate, all the while keeping an eye on the tall, thin man at the edge of the snow-covered path.

It was almost 10 degrees below zero, and yet he was wearing a simple brown suit under a trench coat of the same colour. His short, blonde hair blew around crazily in the freezing wind, laced with snow.

The soldier almost tripped over his own feet when the man glanced at him through his narrow slits for eyes. The cold, icy glare was far more painful than any physical cold.

"Andrei. Calm yourself. I'm not some man eating monster, after all." He said. As if something about this was funny, he started laughing to himself. Nervous to his very core, Andrei slowly shuffled through the snowy path and got into the large truck. The driver next to him visibly shuddered in discomfort. "So you met him, eh? Igor Kakaroff." He asked, fear straining at his wrinkled face.

"Yeah. I've never seen anyone like him. It's as if he's some kind of an emotionless creature." He replied, just as terrified as the old man. Though Igor Kakaroff had long been recognized as their battalion's leader, this was the first time most of the members had ever seen him. Everything about him was inhuman in a strange way.

A bony hand slammed on the window, scaring the shit out of Andrei and the driver.

Please, God, don't let it be Igor. He thought, opening the door. Sure enough, it was him. And he was angry. "When did I say you could go in there, hm? Get out here and supervise the loading. Everything must be perfectly set up." He walked away into the blizzard, still completely unfazed by the sub-zero temperatures.

Andrei shivered, and fell back against the closed door of the truck. He simply wanted the old man to run him over with the truck.

With a backwards glance in the direction where Igor had disappeared, he stumbled back to the loading area.

New York, USA

Fuck, I'm gonna be late! Darren rushed outside, determined not to mess up his first day on the job. He ran into the alley next to the building, and almost stumbled right into Felix. He looked down at Darren, clearly not impressed with his punctuality.

"Uh, sorry I'm late. I kinda overslept." He said, scratching his neck nervously. Felix gave him a cold look. "Next time, be punctual. I don't like people who do their work in a sloppy way."

He turned around, and walked deeper into the alleyway. Darren obediently followed. "So...gonna tell me why we're walking through this alley?" He asked boldly. Felix just kept walking.

Halfway through the alleyway, he stopped and looked around, as if searching for someone. Or making sure nobody was there. Then, he pushed the sleeve of his right arm up, revealing a strange bracelet. It was gray, with only a small blue button on it to decorate it. "I assume you're familiar with the term teleportation, yes?" He asked, actually sounding kind of smug. More interested than ever, Darren replied, "Yeah, I am. But what does this have to do with that bracelet?"

"Everything."

As if that explained anything, Felix took a hold of Darren's shoulder, and pressed the button.

Suddenly, Darren was startled by a sudden flash of blue, dazzling light. He felt lightheaded, as if his head was separated from his body. The light disappeared, and his eyes slowly focused on a dark, gray room. A sudden, overpowering dizziness forced him to double over. He looked up, and the whole room started spinning.

Felix let his shoulder go and stepped towards the door in front of them. He looked back at Darren's pathetic appearance and said, "The first time transporting is never pleasant. You'll get used to it as time goes by." He motioned at Darren to follow.

Still feeling woozy, he stumbled out of the room into a maze of hallways and big steel doors. They had teleported into a room at the end of a metal hallway. Everything was made of metal, including the floor, ceiling and walls. Looking back at the room, he saw that the room was no different. But it was also completely empty, with no furniture or anything at all. It was quite literally a big metal box. "Where did we teleport to?" He asked.

Felix replied, "That room has a special pad we use for teleportation. That's how people travel in and out of this facility." He motioned at a laser scanner, the kind you'd see in a supermarket. "We use that to recognize the identity of people who use this. We'll record yours on the way back." He walked on ahead, and Darren followed. He had absolutely no idea where he was going. There were a lot of people walking around in the bleak hallways, including what looked like doctors or scientists. And there were quite a few guards stationed around the place, all of them carrying guns.

Felix stepped in front of an automatic door, and walked in. The door was white, and the only automatic door Darren had seen so far. The colour was also different from the other, rather lame gray doors. It had the words "Unit C" printed on it, and over these words was an official looking crest. It was a shield with a U inside it, a lone star placed dead center between the U. Outside the shield, a gold C surrounded it, resembling a crescent moon.

The room was much brighter than the glum hallway. It was a completely white room, with the entire ceiling glowing due to the panel lights illuminating the place. Other than himself and Felix, there were four people in the room. Felix walked upto a towering black man who appeared to be reloading a gun, and pushed Darren forward. He said, "Well, this is the kid I was talking about. He's a real prospect, so treat him well." Darren himself was not a short guy at all, but standing in front of this man, he felt tiny. And he wasn't even standing up yet. His presence was amazing.

As if on cue, the man stood up. Only then did Darren fully absorb how tall he was. Six feet? Maybe more? Yeah, definitely more. He was bald, and had a large scar running across the left side of his head, giving him a rather severe look. He was wearing a black jumpsuit, through which his incredibly toned muscles almost popped through. His most striking feature, though, were his eyes. They were a bright yellow, almost glowing despite the brightness of the room. Darren suspected they were colored contacts or something.

Darren was expecting him to say something strict and kind of mean sounding. However, he smiled instead, making him look a little like Mike Tyson. He shook Darren's hand enthusiastically. Almost too enthusiastically; his hand felt like it was crushed into powder. Though of course, he couldn't feel any pain.

"My name is Marvel Johnson, and I'm the captain of this unit. How's it going?"

Darren stared. The man stared back, curious at his reaction. Almost as if he was expecting Darren to say something.

"....sorry, what's your name again?"

"Marvel Johnson."