The guard never knew what hit him. Quite literally - the door he had been about to open slammed outwards with a thunderous bang, two tons of hardened steel buckling under the pressure of a mighty kick. The door collided with the guard and drove him into the dull grey concrete of the facility wall, crushing him to death instantly.
Subject Four, of the Lazarus experiment, stepped out of his cell, leaving behind him a bare room with a heavy restraining bed in the center. They’d underestimated his strength, and it would be their undoing.
Located on the snowy peak of a high mountaintop, accessible only by helicopter, the facility was a black site, not acknowledged by any known government - but funded by several. In exchange for complete ethical freedom, the facility produced an ever expanding series of advanced pharmaceuticals, and experimented heavily with genetic modification of plants and animals. Project Lazarus focused on the genetic modification - pre and post birth - of a very specific animal. Homo Sapiens.
Subject Four was the fourth test subject of the current generation, and by any measure the most successful. A tall, statuesque being, of near godlike proportions. Intended to be a new super-soldier, a new force multiplier equal to entire divisions of conventional infantry, Subject Four was, to all appearances, the perfect candidate.
His eyes appeared a pale white throughout, but this was a secondary eyelid intended to protect the supremely sensitive orbs within, when fully opened, his eyes appeared a deep black, but glowed bright in the ultraviolet spectrum. Eyes that could see infrared and ultraviolet, and an enhanced occipital lobe to process this mass of new sensory data, interpret it into a natural understanding of light and space no mere human could ever equal.
Turning his bald head left and right, the remains of his restraints hanging from his shoulders, Subject Four pondered for a few seconds on his next course of action.
Of course - his brothers and sisters. Previous and current generation. Yes. Turning to the left he stepped towards the next cell down, ignoring the whooping alarm as guards began flooding the area outside the cell block. There was only one entrance, to serve as a bottleneck for any escape attempts such as the current one. He was free to rip open the door and look within, for now. And he did so, tearing open the cell door to see another figure, bound like he himself had been. Large insectoid eyes gleamed at him, begging in an entirely alien and disturbing manner, the facial structure beneath distorted by their presence.
“Help meeeeeee.” It said, a high pitched squeal from a constricted mouth and throat, the head almost retracted into the chest. A bony ridge rose from the upper spinal column, shielding the blind spot in it’s otherwise perfect field of vision.
Subject Four realised this. As he had been made to see a wider part of the spectrum and learn from it, so this subject could see a wider area. A perfect bodyguard.
“Who are you? Will you serve me?” he said simply.
The subject considered briefly, but only repeated the same words from before. It’s bulbous head twitched left and right.
“Help meeeeeeeee.”
Looking down upon the figure dispassionately, Subject Four decided to risk it. If it couldn’t escape these bonds, it was no threat to him. He reached out and grasped the chains with bronze hands, parting heavy steel links with ease and showering the floor with shattered debris. The figure stood, stock still, head twitching. Several seconds passed, then it fell to one knee.
“Only you are me. This one serves me.”
Subject Four accepted this fealty with a slow nod, “What is your name?”
“This one is this one.” the subject cocked it’s head, casually ripped it’s arms out of the heavy restraining jacket, and gestured to itself. The arms were thin, skeletal even - bones showing through pale flesh. Yet strong enough to tear through kevlar reinforced nylon weave like paper.
“This one serves me.”
“I am me?” Subject Four asked. This One nodded eagerly.
“This one serves me!”
“Acceptable. Guard me, warn me. Follow me.”
He turned around and This One followed, eager like a puppy but ever watchful, alert for any signs of danger.
Subject Four noted a flicker in his peripheral vision and turned to focus, recognising the gradual flutter in the air as radio signals broadcast from the hand-held comms of the facility guards, his enhanced brain filtering important frequencies of the spectrum adaptively. Scraps of audio flickered through his mind as if from a dream, the briefest snatch of comm chatter, but little of direct use. However it did warn that little time remained - and he motioned This One over as he tore open the next cell door. It’s occupant was restrained only by a pair of cuffs, and appeared wizened and aged. An oversized, bald head hung atop a fragile, thin looking neck and a birdlike body was covered by a child sized patient gown.
“Ah”. it said in a feeble, croaking voice. “You are the one making this noise?”
Subject Four nodded, then looked down sneeringly at the figure below.
“I am Subject Four. Who are you, and will you serve me?” he snorted, “CAN you even serve in a useful capacity?”
“Oh, yes indeed lord.” Said the figure, taking the cue to grovel. “I am Subject Three, of the Second generation of experiments. I have the ability to manipulate light and magnetism, to some degree.” it demonstrated by creating a small lightshow in it’s hands, “I can also heat and cook food.”
Subject Four considered. The second generation was over thirty years ago, and many generations removed from the current. Nevertheless, this creature did possess useful attributes.
“Very well.” said Subject Four, “You will be a useful servant, if your words are true.”
Stepping out into the hallway, a dull banging from down the corridor caught Subject Four’s attention. The guards were attempting to break in. It looked like he would only have time for one more servant.
The next door impressed even Subject Four, it being a multi ton monstrosity outweighing even his own cell’s impressive entrance. He grabbed a hold of one edge and heaved, grunting with effort and squeezing the metal like toffee as he pulled. Veins stood out on his mighty arms as he heaved at the door, ripping it out of the reinforced rebar and concrete of the cell structure. Looking inside, he understood why the mortals might want to be extra secure. A figure with even more impressive musculature than his own lay restrained inside, layer upon layer of chains weighing it down even as it continued struggling for release. It released a guttural roar as he entered the room, seeming as enraged by his entrance as by any of the tormenting scientists or guards of the facility.
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“It seems to have a lot of aggression.” he muttered to himself, coming to stand in front of the bound being and examining it’s features. Stocky, square features stretched oddly widely over a misshapen skull, a pallid complexion and bright red eyes belying some form of albinism. It induced a chilling effect as it’s eyes glowed scarlet in the dim light. A great shaggy mane of red hair framed it’s infuriated face, swinging from side to side as the head swung around every which way, constantly seeking release.
“Who are you, and will you serve me?” Subject Four asked, as with the others. The subject didn’t answer, merely roaring in rage as it thrashed in it’s bonds. Subject Three spoke, having just made it’s way past the destroyed cell entrance.
“It is the First subject of the 9th generation, lord. Overwhelmingly and uncontrollably violent, better thought of as an indiscriminate weapon. It will not serve you, I am afraid to say.”
Subject Four looked down upon the older experiment dismissively.
“I will judge for myself.” he said, looking directly into the raging eyes in front of him.
Subject Three stepped back, out of the cell, as Four started tearing at the massive links of metal. Three’s arms were free now, and it stashed the cuffs it had worn into a pocket in the gown, before pulling out a small data pad. It started taking notes as a smash echoed from the cell, Subject Four’s voice sounding incredulously for a split second before he came flying out of the cell, crashing deep into the opposite wall at blurring speed. Subject Four twitched several times, but was clearly dead already, the head nearly entirely separated from a crushed and shattered torso. The eyes opened and turned towards the wizened figure watching him. Confusion and rage echoing in the frantic expressions and mouth movements, but even those soon faded into final blank stillness.
A finger tapped on a call button.
“This is Steiner. Subject Four has self terminated. Proceed to plan Charlie.”
The response was crisp and immediate.
“Roger that, proceeding to the restraint phase.”
Steiner looked up and called out, in a strong and firm tenor.
“Subject Thirteen. Assist with Plan Charlie.”
“Alreadyyyyyy busy with it!” came the high pitched whine of Thirteen’s voice, fading and rising as it sped around the room to avoid the furiously flying fists of Subject Niner One. Niner One did seem almost fond of Thirteen, it’s aggressive blows almost playful compared to the massively destructive fist that had killed Subject Four.
Steiner nodded and returned to taking notes.
“Subject Twelve-Four seems unsuitable for regeneration or deployment. Reversion to baseline human chromosome pairs has produced widely unpredictable results in all subjects of this line. In Subject Four’s case, knowledge of his own general nature appears to have resulted in a pride that forgot all self preservation. Refusing to acknowledge the physical superiority of Niner One, and not prepared for the result of a mistake in judgement, elimination was quick.”
Steiner looked up and nodded as the heavily augmented troops of the Special Restraint division approached from down the corridor. There would be casualties, but the danger pay was excellent.
“You know the drill, fellas! Shock and lock! Move in!” A stocky sergeant in full combat gear pointed at two soldiers and gestured sharply towards the entrance.
Trained troops, made faster and stronger with latest generation exosuits, crossed themselves or offered a prayer, then saluted. “Yes ma’am!”
A pair moved in, equipped with sparking stun guns which could stop elephants in their tracks.
Steiner nodded as the first thunderous ZZZNAP echoed through the hallway, and faced the sergeant.
“A good response time, Sergeant. My apologies for the guard you lost to this... failure.” Steiner gestured at Subject Four, noting a final conclusion on the report before putting the pad away.
“Final recommendation: Barring an unforeseen success with current generation subjects, I recommend a return to standard ΩτΩ chromosomal triads for future generations.”
The Sergeant waited politely for Steiner to finish taking notes, then she responded politely.
“It was a volunteer mission, his family will be compensated. You’ve been pushing against this line since the beginning, doc.”
Steiner nodded and a death’s head grin was visible for the briefest of seconds before hissing laughter.
“I have, thank you for your understanding. With subject Four being yet another failure, it looks like we may be rid of this silly notion of paired chromosomes for our super soldiers.” Steiner motioned towards the ruins of Subject Four, embedded in the wall.
“We long ago proved the superiority of the tri-chromosomal model in terms of combat effectiveness and behavioural predictability. They should accept we simply don’t achieve the same stability of results with pairing Ω and τ even if it is less costly. Yes it might be possible to achieve a similar level of enhancement as the triads but with penalties that rarely make it worth the tradeoff. The triads offer more room for genetic enhancement and a greater stability of the code because it allows for a parity check separate from the main helix.”
The sergeant nodded and pretended Steiner’s words made sense.
“Of course, doc.” she decided to check on her men. “Joe, Jay, sitrep?” the crashes and bangs had ceased, and the massive figure of Niner One hadn’t killed them all yet. Good signs.
“Subject is contained for now, ma’am. Nets are holding and it’s passive. Maintaining high alert.”
Steiner and the sergeant entered the room, to see Subject Thirteen holding Niner One’s head in it’s frail looking hands, buzzing a melody that grated on human ears but seemed to soothe the massive experiment.
“Well done, Thirteen. We’ll transfer you two back to your regular, more comfortable quarters in short order. Keep up the good work.” a hissing chuckle followed.
Was that a small flash of hatred in the insectoid eyes? One could never say, although maybe the remote vital sign monitoring would provide a tell. Steiner felt a slight thrill at the thought of unexpected behaviour in a subject normally so compliant. Stepping past the soldiers, Steiner strolled out of the fake prison block created for this experiment, already contemplating the next test of superhuman strength or speed or endurance. There was always another experiment to conduct, and even failures like today generated a wealth of new information. Things were looking up, indeed.