Chapter thirty three
They see sacrifice as honourable, sometimes even more so than victory. Some of their most famous battles were not even victories, but last stands that resulted in the dead faction becoming martyrs. -extract from “The First Terran War; Coincidence or Certainty?”
“The hell is this? I’m working, can’t you see?” George glared at the VI, which just stood there. It wouldn’t answer him, he knew that, but he still wanted to blow off some steam.
“Your presence has been requested. Please put on this helmet and get in the vehicle.” George stared at the helmet. It was a CSDD, or a complete sensory deprivation device. He wondered what he had gotten himself into. CSDDs were only used when travelling to the most secure of places, the kinds of places that were only known from rumours and didn’t officially exist.
“Where am I going?” The VI remained quiet. George sighed and got in the vehicle. It wasn’t like he had a choice. Denying those types of people inevitably led to you ‘vanishing’.
After what seemed like an eternity, he was led out of the vehicle into a black cube, with no exits. George spun around, looking for where he had come in from, but couldn’t spot any openings. The Vi led him through a door he swore hadn’t been there before, and into another black room with a desk and a chair in front of it.
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Behind the desk sat a figure. The figure wore a black cloak that seemed to suck in light, and its face was covered in shadows. When it spoke, it spoke in an emotionless, genderless voice.
“Sit down.” George sat down. He felt like he was in a room with a tiger, except the tiger had a nuke strapped to its back and knew how to use it. Call it intuition, but George felt like if he moved even a muscle, he would be dead.
“Greetings George. You have been invited here today for a post we believe you would be suited for.” The figure spoke with a cold politeness.
“What sort of job would involve this much secrecy?”
“If you accept, you will be black boxed.” George fought to keep in a gasp. Black boxes were things spoken of only in the smallest of whispers, as if you were caught you would face a fate worse than death. There were Humanity’s trump cards; places where anything could be researched, no matter how much it broke the law, as long as it could save humanity someday. Most revolutionary technologies were waters down versions of things that had come out of Black Boxes. No-one ever came out of Black Boxes, though.
“And if I don’t accept?” George took a chance and instantly regretted it. The figure turned its head to look straight at him, and George prayed to everything he knew that he wouldn’t die.
“If you decline, your memory of this event and anything related to it will be wiped. No other actions will be taken towards you or anyone close to you.” George sighed in relief. At least there was a way out, even if he got mind-wiped.
“What will I be working on?”
“That is classified, but your squad mates will also be black boxed, whether or not you accept. Please make your choice.” George sighed again. Looks like he wouldn’t be getting anything else out of the figure. He thought it over and decided that he wasn’t going to leave his squad. Hell, they were practically the family he never had! He made his choice.
“I accept.”
“Good. Do not resist. You will wake up in your Black Box.” With those parting words, George felt something hit him before the world turned black.