The Eden Projects (FINAL EDITING)

Chapter 41. Baby Steps.

- Ark -

Movement did not come naturally to Ark. 

Maybe at one time it did, but now the slumbering corporation found waking more difficult than ever. The head, Dr. Simon Maliver, now called its furthest limbs to life. It was time to move again. 

The envoy unit rumbled down the road. Stirring up the dirt and loose foliage that crowded into the road heading away from the Northern outpost. This was in no way different from the missions before. The Fire Team consisted of the same number of men, the vehicle was standard in every way and most importantly, the goal was no different.

Observation.

Observation, and perhaps a light skirmish if they were so lucky that action find them first. 

The convoy travelled lIke cancerous cells pumping through the State's veins and arterial roadways. Touching everything, etching scar tissue into muscle. Bringing with them the promise of some grievously abject task.

Locate that group. 

Locate that infected at all costs. 

When any part of Ark moved big or small, the world took notice.

So it took notice now. 

Crammed like sardines within the metal bowels of their vehicle sat the anxious group of soldiers. All huffing and puffing in the stale air. Not a single window or crack let in the external light; one terribly clinical light flickered at each bounce above them and sat somewhere dead center- was something so obviously inhuman, so terribly quiet, if not for the tight quarters and knocking knees it may as well have not been there at all... and everything to it was new. 

The pulsing light, the smell of human skin and soot, the outfit of shadow-stained men that sat straighter than pins in a board. Musky sunwashed fabric, and tangy metal that creaked and clattered around him.

New. 

Everything new. 

It played with the looping curls that fell along it's nape. 

Stay on target.

"I don't like him." One of the men said at the end of the seated row. "I thought we didn't work with the infected." 

"Well you are now." Another answered. "So shut up about it." 

The it, now described, ignored their chatter. So much visual information snapped through his retinas that at times, he had to close his eyes just for a moments reprieve. This was much more than the white walls he was used to. 

Look there, look now. All of this is fleeting so take it in. Soak it up.

His mind begged for more. 

The treads made a curious glugging noise whenever they found clear pavement. For at least a part of the team, this was their first time leaving Ark perimeters in a good long while. They were all as groggy as owls awake midnoon and unlike them, the sun, that had spent another day loafing about aimlessly was already painting the horizon in pale shades of pink and orange. 

"Safety's off." The commanding officer, Matthias, spoke back to them from the passenger seat. 

A few men yawned or made simple grunting croaks. 

"That means you too." Matthias looked their infected companion up and down.

Among the soldiers he more than stood out. Not because of his age or the status of his known humanity (or lack thereof), not even because of his lack of any tactical weapon... no... it was his hair, white as snow. His eyes, cold and demeaning. His skin... paler than any living thing should have been. He was different in all ways silent. In all definitions not asking for a spoken affirmation.  He wore no armor or marked uniform. Instead, thinly veiled fabric hung from his body like gauzy drapes made for movement. Not structure. In fact, the only structured thing he wore was a padded vest with chemical filled tubes slotted into various points throughout it's bodice. Explosives and gas cannisters.