War Machines

11

     "Have you ever tried to determine who your family is?"

     I blinked, startled. Zeke, as usual, seemed to watch everything I did. He stood close to me, both of us in full armor and hanging on to the handholds on the ramp of the dropship. His ridiculous cape was off for this one, probably because it wasn't likely we'd encounter press when everyone for miles was too busy running for their lives, but he still wore his elaborate "World's Greatest Defender" armor. The roar of the engines made communication difficult, so maybe he hadn't said what I thought he'd said. "What?" I asked him.

     "Your family," Zeke repeated. "Your biological parents, siblings, other relatives? Have you ever tried to determine who they are?"

     The dropship shuddered as we passed through a spot of turbulence, causing us both to sway slightly. We stood at the ramp, waiting for it to lower and bring us into the battle below. Already I could hear explosions over the sound of the engines. The craft shook again.

     "You come up with the most bizarre questions," I grumbled. "No, I haven't tried to find my family. Why would I?"

     "Actually, J, it's not that bizarre," Miller said. She stood just behind Zeke and me, ready to drop behind us and provide cover fire. "You were in the first group, so you were bought for the program before they instituted mandatory surrenders. How did you end up taken from your family? Did they sell you, or were you kidnapped by headhunters? Do you remember?"

     "Headhunters," I reported. I frowned, trying to push back the uneasy memories of my broken toy and the hands seizing me, changing my life forever. "I remember strangers taking me away, and then I was sold into the program. Why?"

     "Well, if your family never sold you, that means they probably still wanted you," Miller pointed out. "I'm kind of surprised you never looked into it. Maybe they looked for you? Before the governments instituted the mandatory surrender of all boys with the genetic marker, there was a big movement by a bunch of lawyers. They got all those families together and tried to insist that the Border Guard release the records from Terra Omega and give the operatives back to their families. Remember?"

     "It was a scam," I grumbled. "Those lawyers only wanted operatives handed over so they could sell us to rogue nations, and the families weren't much better. They used some of them, the ones who just wanted their kids back, as pawns, but most of them were willing participants."

     "Who told you that?" Zeke asked.

     "The brass," I said. "They sent us all warnings not to respond and to immediately report any attempts by outsiders to contact us. Some of those bastards got really bad about it." I craned my neck to look back at Miller. "Do you remember K Alpha, Miller? He was kidnapped, too, around the same time I was. Someone claiming to be his parents tried really hard to get in contact with him. They even tried to lure him into a meeting location. He notified the brass, and they set up a trap and got the bastards. God knows what would have happened if they'd gotten their hands on him."

     Zeke was frowning. "And you? Did anyone try to contact you?"

     "No, why?"

     "Are you certain?" Zeke pressed. "You have nothing but the word of the so-called 'Brass' of the Border Guard to support your claim. How do you know that was not really K Alpha's parents, just trying desperately to reach their stolen son? How do you know your own family is not still searching for you?"

     This only confused me. "Zeke, why would they be searching for me? I'm Terra Omega. I'm not the kid I was anymore, and I don't remember them at all."

     "Because that memory was beaten out of you." Zeke seemed upset for some reason.

     I shrugged. "Yeah, so? You can't have a good operative if they're constantly mooning about mommy and daddy."