New Elysium: Breakout

(1) Chapter One Flesh, Circuit, and Bone***

Part One: Breakout

"To everything, there is a season and a time to every purpose under the heaven:"

Ecclesiastes 3:1

"This is the best part you know," the voice whispered. "You think you are so smart, that you are so powerful... Until you are down looking up at us..." The last word was hissed and Red couldn't miss the gloating tone of the man staring down at him like a hunter with a trophy kill.

Nor could he miss that seven-starred white insignia on the man's shoulder: Orion's Reach. Purists, that hated augmented humans and had no love for autonomous AIs just trying to make a living.

Red glanced over at what remained of his second in command. Lars didn't breathe like a human. His chest never rose and fell with what humans considered the breath of life. But Lars was still animated in a way that Red couldn't appreciate until now. The gray sheen of his metallic chest hadn't changed an iota. But it was the absolute stillness, the way his arm was bent at an unnatural angle under his chest cavity that captured Red's attention. Lars never carried his arms that way.

Red's body hurt as he lay twitching on the ground, his gaze fixed on Lars, his augments completely shut down. His HUD screen was missing from his line of sight. It made him feel disoriented. His integrated systems would reboot but not in time for whatever was happening here. The last thing he remembered doing was flinging himself in front of a short-ranged EMP Jack, pointed at Lars. It had been a futile attempt to take the blast himself. Futile because the blast would simply pass through him, knocking all of his augments offline as it went and still taking down Lars.

His rank should have been enough to deter this. Even Orion's Reach would never have dared the public outcry of taking down a Captain of one of Neo-Tokyo's largest flagships.

Plus, he was on Neo-Tokyo for fuck's sake. Orion's Reach was considered too radical, their hatred of augments unreasonable. They weren't even allowed on Outland's Space Station, the huge port of entry onto Neo-Tokyo, let alone the planet's surface itself.

And yet, here they were. He'd been gone too long.

Pain sprouted out of his middle, forcing him to face reality. The blonde-haired man holding the EMP Jack over his shoulder had kicked him in the gut, driving his boot in when he hadn't moved.

"I said wake up, plug-in. Can you hear me? Or did I fry too many of your circuits?"

Red groaned in response.

"I said wake--" A child's whimper sliced through the man's voice and the scene melted away entirely.

Red's eyes snapped open wide. His senses came alive as he reached out, his HUD, heads-up display, immediately feeding him data. He was standing in front of a mirror, razor in a hand that was paused halfway between the sink and his face. His body was tensed, locked in place, and his heart was racing.  From the broken fragments of the dirty shattered mirror, ten pairs of dark brown eyes stared back at him from a clean-shaven face he barely recognized as his own. Clearly, he'd finished the job at some point. 

Great, let's add sleep shaving to the list of current problems I don't have.

The whimper sounded again from the cell next to his and he sighed, rinsing the razor before dropping it into his pocket. He knew the whimpering would soon devolve into a full-fledged nightmare. He glanced over at the sleeping mats in their room. He and his cellmate used the bunks, but two small boys had two mattresses buttressed up against the opposite wall. It wasn't ideal but it was the safest place for them to be. The prison wasn't exactly the kindest place for the weak.

Damn you, Neo-Tokyo.

T had a spinal defect that he would need surgery for. A surgery he wasn't likely to get in here. His spine was shifting off to the side and had been surgically altered but he would need adjustments as he grew older. Adjustments that had already cost him and his family dearly. It was a simple augment to strengthen his spine. A medical advancement for a problem that plagued more than a few these days. Red gritted his teeth as he always did when he thought about it. The kid wasn't exactly public enemy number one. But having an augmented spine was enough to land him on the zit of the asshole of the Neo-Tokyan empire. Because anyone who wasn't a pure human wasn't welcome in polite society. Alt simply had an apparatus wound about his head to help him see. His 'eyes' could move around in separate directions reminding Red of a lizard he'd once seen in an old movie, a chameleon. Alt was born blind and such augments were common among those who couldn't afford a set of good eyes or decent augments. 

His heart finally slowing, he gripped both sides of the sink. Just yesterday he'd shattered the mirror, plunging his hand through it in one moment of frustration. The nightmares of his former life haunted him, only adding fuel to the desperation plaguing him daily. He was trapped and he couldn't get out.

The whimper came again as a beam of light from the morning sun cut through the cell and hit the shattered mirror's fragments, refracting into Red's eyes. He jerked back, his hand blocking the beam of light as he simultaneously closed his eyes.

What was I doing here?

He knew what he'd been doing. Thinking of escape, stupidly hoping in vain that after seven years there might be a way out. It clawed at him bitterly, the futility of it, just waiting for his demise while time marched on.

Physically escaping had become an obsolete possibility. He just couldn't fathom a way to pull it off. That didn't mean there weren't other ways to escape. He even considered cutting his own wrists before dismissing the idea. Too much clotting for that region. For anything to be really effective, he'd have to cut through the tendons, and the augments hardwired through his limbs. It was more likely to clot and he would end up stuck with a stupid injury and a lot of scarring to show for it. 

T whimpered again, the sound grating on Red's nerves, reminding him just how much he hated this place. Dag would still protect T after he was gone, but he'd be doing it alone.

And in here, alone got you killed.

Dag, his cellmate snored loudly from the top bunk. Dag kept him going when times got hard. The man was cheerful despite losing everything. The man did not hate Red despite it being Red's fault he was here in the first place. He owed Dag not to chicken out. Plus the man slept through anything, a tornado could roll through and Dag would not wake up for it.

Shame washed over Red. He retreated from the mirror to go check on T, who was now thrashing in the full throes of his nightmare.

"Hey, hey," he whispered, his hand on T's shoulder. Immediately the boy relaxed. He was awake and instead of thrashing he shook with silent sobs. Red sat there next to the bed leaning against the wall with T crying into his chest. It was almost a daily ritual for them. T would fall back asleep and Red would go for a morning run.

In the back of Red's mind, the madness stirred as the sun rose, whispering encouraging words again. 

Do it.

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