Crying Metal

Chapter 10: Preparations

I was dragged out of the room where I last saw my father. The gray-faced men showed no sign of mercy as their thin fingers gripped my bare arms. I willed silently for that piercing acidic metal to secrete from my skin and wash all the pain away.

Squinting my eyes shut as I was jostled through corridor after corridor, I searched every corner of my mind and heart for that angry silver substance again.

But the metal would not appear again.

I reopened my eyes just in time to see a sign labeled 'AIRCRAFT HANGAR' as we turned a corner. Opening a final set of heavy white doors, I was pushed into a large warehouse-like space filled with aircraft and weaponry.

Sleek silver pods so thin they resembled man-sized bullets lined up against one wall, with scores of tranquilizer, harpoon and machine guns resting on tall stacked shelves above them that could only be reached by a hovering platform that yet another gray-eyed man was using. Larger streamlined capsules hovering on the ceiling, twisting and turning as though they breathed, emitted a harsh blue glow from each cabin. Small hovering black vehicles, the perfect size for a lone pilot, jostled one another at ground level. Men in white and blue coats holding holopads and styluses rushed about the space, calling to one another in gruff voices. The metallic taste of cold-hearted industrial work was thick on my tongue and in my throat.

Appearing from behind a silver pod, a tight-lipped man walked briskly towards me. The other men surrounding me melted away into the busy scenery.

"407," he said, "your suit is in the locker room." He gestured towards a small metal door leading out of the hangar. A simple sign reading 'ODDS' was displayed on the door, typical of every rest area for females. "Now, don't get any ideas. There's only one way for you to get out of here. And that's climbing into the aircraft you and your crew will be using. I will be waiting outside the locker room for you when you're done."

I pushed into the small windowless room and changed quickly out of my now-tattered hospital gown. Noticing the simple showering compartment on my left, I turned on the hot water and let it straighten my unruly curls and caress my skin. My heart galloped with fear and adrenaline.

I searched for that metal again; for the anger that coursed through like a living being in my veins. But it was nowhere to be found. All I felt was an overwhelming sadness and terror at not knowing what was to come of all of this.

Shutting off the water, I stepped from the shower and dried with thick autocool towels. I examined the suit that lay folded on a small metal chair, mocking me. It was smooth and white, and the whole bodysuit seemed to be made from autocool material as well. I sighed. Each stitch was woven tightly and I knew there was no way my metal could seep through, if it ever decided to appear again. Thin gray striped lined both sides of the suit. I stepped into the snug material and stretched my limbs as the material settled flush to my skin.

I saw a flash of blue out of the corner of my eye. Craning my head, I peered at my shoulder. The once-gray stripes lining my arms and legs pulsed in time with my heart and lungs. This is how soldiers can stay aware of each other in the battlefield, I realized. This is how they know that their fellow soldiers are alive.

My eyes roamed over the tattered hospital gown as I recalled the surge of anger and adrenaline that came with my metallic powers.

You are as strong as iron, my father had told me.