A monstrous city in a broken world, ruled by clones.
An artificial intelligence.
Toxic air.
Four different young people in search of their place in a desperate society.
The young Shadow, six years old, but only recently awake, looked at the bright light.
He was sitting in a bed. The bed linen was scratchy, the mattress too hard. But the child didn't mind that. He didn't know anything else. And feelings were as good as foreign to him.
Many cables protruded from the boy's narrow, small body. His head was bandaged. More cables protruded between the bandages. It was a grotesque sight. The many cables, sometimes with fine drops of blood hanging from them, connected the child to various monitors, machines, and all kinds of strange-looking equipment.
A tiny, delicate body, pale with gray skin and light hair, which became pitch black towards the tips, blood-red eyes... The child didn't even blink, but stared in front of him.
Some of these machines were outside his small, barren, windowless room. The boy watched as cables disappeared into the walls. He thought nothing of it.
In one corner of the room hung a small camera with which the child was monitored. A small green light flashed softly and would have informed him that the camera was on if he were interested in the camera. Instead, the boy tugged at one of the cables from time to time, as they restricted his movements.
Like every child, the young Shadow did not want to sit still all the time. He also felt the need to move. But the cables tugged at the slightest movement. The child only vaguely perceived pain. The cables disturbed in a dull way.
Red light, one of many, flickered still.
It belonged to a quietly humming machine, the purpose of which was unclear to the boy. This machine had no monitor that he could read, and there was no way for him to connect to the system.
Not anymore.
Not after the boy had shut down the entire laboratory when he connected to one of the computers to which the machines were connected. Since this incident, the child has not been able to penetrate the systems. This ability was temporarily taken away from him.
The door to the small room inside the laboratory opened. A plump young woman came in. She smiled. A gesture the boy didn't understand.
"The lamp needs to be replaced!" he said in a monotone voice before she could greet him.
"Which one?" The woman carried a tray with her. She placed it on the small table, next to the bed, and sat down on the edge of the bed.
"This one." The boy pointed to the light. His right hand was not covered with skin. The hand of a robot. Cables were exposed. The round woman could also see some of his tendons and flesh between the cables, the wires, and the steel. The child wore a transparent glove to protect his hand from dirt. Several fine cables led through the fabric to one of the many machines.
The woman looked at the light. The sight was less grotesque and disturbing than the child's hand. "The device is old. The lamp will be replaced soon. Or the entire machine."
"What is it for?"
"It collects data."
"Ah." The boy looked at the woman. "When can I leave this room? What's that for?" He pointed to the tray. On it lay scalpels, a syringe with a large and very thick needle, a tablet that appeared glassy, the screen turned greenish, and a sealed cup from which a colorful straw protruded.
The woman reached for the cup and handed it to the boy. "Your delicious breakfast! I heard that today the nutritional smoothie tastes like vanilla."
"Vanilla?" The boy held the cup with both hands and drank slowly. Every day he was given only water and liquid food. His body still had to get used to food.
The woman grabbed the tip with one hand; with the other, she patted the child's cheek lovingly. "Just a little prick. That's a chip."
The boy nodded. He didn't cry when the coarse needle pierced his skin.
"So. That's it." She pulled the needle out again. "That might be a bit... Oh!"
The cup came out of the boy's hands. The little body twitched; the child's eyes turned back; it squirmed; the chip seemed to grow, pierce him, and his consciousness faded.
When the boy woke up, the woman held him in her arms.
"Well, that was a shock!" She was still smiling. "I wasn't warned that something like this could happen. How do you feel?"
"I don't know. I spilled the smoothie."
"You get a new one Number 100."
"Good." He looked at her with his blood-red, glowing eyes. "Why are you holding me?"
"Because you're a child. Children need hugs," she explained, patting his cheek again. "In a few days, you'll be allowed to leave this room. As soon as you can eat solid food. Then your training will begin."
"Training." He nodded. "My job is to protect humanity."
"Right... Icy."
"What?" He grimaced briefly. A rare emotion that caused the woman to pinch his cheek teasingly.
"Number 100 is not a pretty name. I'll call you Icy, because your gaze is as cold and beautiful as ice. But that must remain our secret. Okay? I will miss being able to take care of you around the clock, my boy. I love you very much. Never forget that, will you? Every child needs someone who loves them."
"Okay." Icy nodded.
(c: sasi)
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
