Twenty-three

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JON-03 awoke on his cot. The overhead lights shone bleakly over the rudimentary barracks set up in the training facility. From all directions voices and snores emanated. He nuzzled back into the pillow, forestalling the urge to get up and go back to training.

This felt perfectly normal, considering he had just been called into existence and matured at an accelerated rate. His mind was still coming to grips with the reality of its surroundings, not to mention the intense programming sessions he, along with the rest of his corps, had endured. Slowly, he sat up and glanced around the room.

His brethren were all lying on their beds. In an effort to eliminate confusion, each individual was called by their numeric designation, which had been tattooed on the flesh of their earlobes. An identification chip with homing capabilities was also sewn into the skin. This was all clearly done for “safety” reasons as explained in their welcome package.

One, Five and Fourteen were still fast asleep, snoring in an almost bear-like way. Two and Seven were having an argument over whose turn it was on the heating pad, while Six was casually leaning back against the wall reading a girly magazine. Further down the barracks, others were involved in card games or poring over VirCorp approved literature. If it was good enough for their betters, it was good enough for them.

Three thought about what purpose he was to serve in this new world order. It certainly was exciting. He knew he, like the others, were special cases. Created for a special purpose. His training supervisor had informed him that “in a past life” he had been a security guard. He didn’t know much about what that entailed, nor did he particularly care to find out. The last few days of orientation, physical and mental training had certainly taken their toll, but if that was what his supervisor wanted, then that was what he would become. He knew one thing: he did not wish to share the same fate as his predecessor. He would work hard.

Still, deep down, a part of him saw the other people bustling around in suits and lab coats and was curious as to how they had been called to their duties for the company. Maybe if he performed his duties well, he might have a chance to be something more.

Suddenly, the lights blinked on and off in rapid succession. A whistle blew, and at once the brethren stumbled together in front of their cots for inspection. Six kicked his magazine under the bed. All eyes looked straight ahead as the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall.

“Excellent, children!” Their supervisor, a rotund gentleman with a snow-white beard, made his way past the ranks followed by his taller, angular assistant. “Absolutely marvelous!” He paused by Three and studied him a moment. “Now, please be at ease. We are not a military operation, dear boy.” He leaned behind Three’s ear and read off the number before returning to his rounds.  “You are making leaps and bounds into your new lives. Congratulations are in order. Wouldn’t you agree, Doctor Klingel?” He scribbled a number on his clipboard, and then turned to look up at his assistant.

“Well,” the assistant glanced down at his watch and began shaking his wrist, “I think we can improve their coordination skills, but yes, I concur. Leaps and bounds indeed, Doctor Klaus.”

Klaus lowered his voice to a harsh whisper. “Arnie, I expect you to rein in that doubt when we present them later. Be congenial. Copasetic. Got it?”

Klingel made a face behind his back as Klaus walked to the end of the line and gestured as a father for all to be seated. The clones sat down on their cots in relative unison and watched him attentively. Klingel brought over a box for his comrade to stand on.

“Can you all see me?”

The clones nodded together.

“Don’t be so shy, my children! You may speak. Can you all hear me?”

Scattered and hesitantly they vocalized their affirmation. Klaus puffed out his chest like a chubby sparrow in preparation to sing an opera.

“Splendid!” Klaus tucked his clipboard under one arm and clapped his hands together. “I have some exciting news for you. Since you have shown such excellent progress in your training, we have a special visitor today. One of two, if I have been informed correctly. The President, yours and mine, Henry Bosak will grace us with his presence for a formal inspection later on this afternoon. If all goes well, he will be presenting you to a very important General tonight. Of course you all remember what a General is from your training, right?”

More nods and murmurs of agreement came from the assembled body.

“Excellent! I expect each of you to be on your best behavior this afternoon. Now, are there any questions?” Klaus looked over each face. Most were blank. Finally his eyes settled on Three, worry lines creasing his eyes. “Yes, my son? Is there something on your mind?”

“Y-yes, sir. If all goes well with the General, sir, will we be sent to the army?”

“An excellent question! Three, isn’t it?”

Three nodded.

“No, I do not believe any of you will ever be sent to do military work. You, my dear ones, are prototypes. Do you know what that means? Well, it means you are very special. We wouldn’t want to lose you in some crazy war. Unless VirCorp decides otherwise, I am fairly certain you will remain here at headquarters under my supervision.” Three smiled as the rest of their faces lit up at the mention of that. Their supervisor was a kind man and well liked, not nearly as crude as his assistant. Continued training with him was a welcome notion.

“Are there any other questions?”

Silence.

“Very well then. Please hit the showers and reassemble here in clean uniforms by one o’clock.” He waved them away warmly. “Go on. Dismissed!”

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