895G didn’t know exactly to do with the information Petri had given to him. Indo had made it clear that it identified a location but the Scout couldn’t figure out what the note meant. He’d thought the digits were a set of latitude and longitude for somewhere on Earth, but it the location that popped up was in the middle of the ocean nowhere near land and there were no notifications of an island being there either. He’d tried searching “Trent’s Warehouse” in his search engine, but the only things that appeared were records of the five people named Trent in Eldern and the twenty-six others who lived in the surrounding areas, none of whom owned a warehouse. A knock on his office door broke him out of his slump and he quickly shut his screen down.

“Come in!”

A Trooper came in followed by an old man 895G recognized but couldn’t place from where.

“I’ve got a Doctor Lecolds to see you.” The Trooper left with a curt bow as the man stepped forward.

“Pleased to meet you Second Commander, I’ve heard great things about you. And please call me Neiman, I hate being called Lecolds.”

895G grasped Neiman’s outstretched hand in a handshake and he finally placed where he knew him.

“You were the head roboticist when Indo was working for GreenHouse!” The Scout proclaimed. “You helped develop the first set of robot models and was the only one who supported Indo in his initial stages of human transfer. I thought you were in retirement?”

“I was but when I heard about the specimen you brought in I couldn’t bear to live with the thought I let retirement stop me from discovering another of the world’s secrets. Thank you for bringing her in, she’s taught me so much.” The old man said through his smile.

“What are you talking about?” 895G asked in wonder. What specimen had he brought in that caused the founder of robotics to rejoin the field?

“Terra of course. Although I’ve been speaking with the biology department and they’ve not slept since you brought Terra’s real body. Which is why I’m here, in fact, I’ve come to deliver some things you’ll need on your journey.”

895G was taken aback. He had already been thrown off by the appearance of a character he’d only read about in his history books, but now Neiman was talking about the robot, whom he’d completely forgotten about, and about some journey? Had this man gone senile?

“I think you might be mistaken,” 895G stated. “I don’t plan on going on any journey anytime soon, I’ve already had more than my fill of adventure.”

“Oh, I see. That must be why you’re researching something banned from history by GreenHouse, because you want a relaxing life. I suppose your search for answers in the old world is just to satisfy your curiosity although it will cost you your life. Is that it?” Neiman said.

“I’m not doing anything of the sort!” 895G retorted. “I need you to leave right now.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that since I’ve already set things in motion. You should get to your apartment immediately in order to escape with your life. There is a bag there with everything you’ll need in order to get to travel to Onto. When you get there, you’ll know where you need to go next. In that bag, there is also a container full of vials much like this.”

Neiman pulled out a small glass tube filled with dark green liquid and placed it in front of 895G.

“This is called Ambrosia. The biologist team I’m close with entrusted me with this as they are most likely being killed as we speak. If placed in the proper vestibules, it can turn back the time to an era before GreenHouse polluted our air and destroyed our homes. Go to Onto and discover the truth.”

Neiman stood up and walked to the door, 895G too perturbed by this onslaught of information to process his leaving and demand more answers.

“The choice is entirely yours to make, but if you don’t leave now you may never live to see another day. This is not a threat, it is a promise. GreenHouse is in the process of erasing anything that may harm it, and your name is almost up. If you’ll excuse me, I believe my name is almost up.”

Neiman left the room, and despite the urgency in the content in his voice, 895G detected no panic or fear in the doctor’s voice. The Scout was left in an empty office, contemplating how to take the news of GreenHouse’s actions. Although 895G was raised to trust GreenHouse with every fiber of his body, he wouldn’t put it past them to kill anyone in their path. He didn’t feel as if he had broken ground on new information that would threaten GreenHouse’s wellbeing, but the Head’s words about his predecessor echoed in his mind.

Grabbing the pages of possible theories he’d written about the gas canister, odd images, the articles he’d read in the bunker, and the note Petri had left him, 895G tried his best to calmly rush to his apartment. He shuffled down the hallway to get to the elevator and was almost in the clear when a Trooper stopped him.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“The Head requests your presence in his office.” They stated, then walked away.

895G’s heart was pumping out of his chest and his palms turned clammy with sweat. If he followed his directives he should report to the Head’s office, but if what Neiman said was true there was the possibility of his immediate termination. But if Neiman was wrong and 895G didn’t go to the Head’s office, that would also mean immediate termination. Gritting his teeth to focus, 895G weighed the two bad options against each other.

“Crazy about the biology team right?” A Scout asked.

“Yeah! A new strain of virus that wiped them all out in a few minutes. I hope it’s not airborne, I still have debts to pay off!” Another Scout answered.

“But if you die, then no more debt. I say it might be a blessing in disguise.”

“Are you seriously trying to kill me? You almost shot me the other day in the simulation. I’m watching you, buddy.”

895G jumped at the voices coming around the corner and hid behind a pillar until they faded away as they turned down another corridor. A virus killing the biology team when Neiman said they were being erased by GreenHouse? Too much of a coincidence. 895G steeled himself and found his answer; he was going to his apartment.

Once he made it in the elevator and back out into the hallway, he sped down the walkways until he made it to his apartment. Flashing his ID in front of the door, it popped open and he pushed his way inside. Sure enough, there was a black back sitting at attention in the center of his living room. He crouched down and was about to examine the contents when the overhead speaker of the apartment complex relayed a transmission.

“Attention residents. Code 78. Due to an incident in the Biology Department, we ask that everyone stay inside for their own safety. We will be going on lockdown in ten minutes. This is not a drill.”

The message continued to replay and 895G could hear panicked footfalls outside his door as people rushed to get to their housing situations. Quickly removing his Second Commander uniform and replacing it with an oversized coat and thick pants, the Scout grabbed the bag and ran out of his apartment. Using the uncommon volume of people in the hallways to his advantage, he pushed through the crowd until he made it to the elevators. He stuck out like a sore thumb wearing non-uniformed clothes in the Scout’s division, but everyone was so concerned with their own wellbeing that they paid him no attention.

“5G, what do you think you’re doing?”

895G’s blood froze as he heard the voice he feared most behind him. He slowly turned around but it did nothing to lessen the impact the anger painted on the Head’s face did to the Scout’s spine.

“No-no-no-nothing, sir, just ge-ge-getting some air.” 895G cleared his throat, knowing his excuse fell on deaf ears.

“Like hell you are.” The Head’s eyes fell to 895G’s side. “You disobeyed direct orders from me to drop your investigation into the gas canister and now the new formula of gas vials have been stolen from the biology division, and I’m guessing that if I look in that bag I’ll find them. You are officially terminated from your post and no longer have a place in GreenHouse.”

The Head lifted his arm and revealed a gun, pointing it straight at 895G. The Scouts around them had all cleared out to their apartments, leaving only the two standing in front of the elevator.

“Listen, I can explain...,” 895 started.

“That time has long gone. I’ve already received orders to erase you and the Council will have my head if I don’t.”

The Head cocked his gun and leveled it at 895G’s head. The tears the Scout had been holding back broke the dam and he found it difficult to focus on the figure about to kill him. So this was how it was going to end.

895G regretted having spent all his energies trying to rise up the ranks of the Scout hierarchy. He regretting not taking up the offer to get coffee with a girl he’d been interested in because the Scout exams were the next day. He regretted not bonding with others since he’d been so focused on using others as stepping stones to move up in the world. Now that he was staring down the barrel of the thing that would end his entire existence in less than a blink of an eye, his life seemed like a lost cause; he’d done nothing noteworthy and made no mark on the world. His heart dropped and his tears stopped when it dawned on him that his life would mean nothing in the cogs of the world--perhaps this is what he deserved for living such a pathetic life.

A large boom shattered the windows down the hallway and the building around them shook. Even though 895G had come to the epiphany that his life was pointless, he still didn’t want to die. He lunged forward and tackled the Head, bringing them both down onto the hard carpet.

The Head didn’t expect to have the smaller man knock him down and it took him a few seconds to process what was going on. 895G pried the Head’s fist open and got his thumb on the trigger when the Head wrapped his large fingers around the handle of the gun.

The Scout cried out in pain as his hand was crushed and the Head brought his fist into his face. Choking on his blood, the Scout used his other hand to swing the black bag up into the Head’s chin, hearing a satisfying crack as the larger man’s head snapped back.

895G grabbed the barrel of the gun and pointed it at the Head and pulled the trigger. His ears rang from the pop and the hand that had grabbed the barrel was bright red and burnt but none of it mattered as he watched the Head drop lifeless to the ground, a pool of red staining the floor as brain and blood leaked from the single bullet wound in his forehead.

The Scout was shaking but he grabbed the black back and gun and sprinted down the hallway to the stairs. By now everything would be locked down and he didn’t want to get caught near the Head’s dead body. Tears pricked the backs of his eyes and 895G didn’t know if it was from shock, fear, or pain that they threatened, but he wiped them away since he didn’t want to lose his step going down ten flights of stairs.

The door to the outside was locked but two bullets to the lock mechanism did the trick. He ran outside, grabbing the nearest car and starting up the engine. He didn’t turn around once as he drove out of Eldern and away from GreenHouse’s grasp, although he did see pillars of red and black smoke rising from all the main division buildings.

Once the city was behind him, he felt as if he was given a second chance at life--and he wasn’t going to squander it this time.