The Prospect (Dead Planet Series Prequel) (The Dead Planet Series) Read online

  1

  The Prospect

  (A Dead Planet Series Novelette)

  By Drew Avera

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  2014

  Chapter 1

  I can't believe she's pregnant, I thought to myself as I stood in the receiving line waiting processing. There were seven prospects in front of me, each one more frightened than the next. I wasn't afraid, but the realization that I was going to miss the birth of my sister's child made me feel sick to my stomach. Our parents always coddled her more than they did me, but Ambree had a way of pouring that devotion back at me in a way that kept me from resenting my parents. I can't say I blamed them, she was always the outgoing and successful one, whereas I was the trouble maker, always the first to get in a bind that I couldn't find my way out of.

  "Next," the policeman at the head of the line yelled in an authoritative tone. He looked to be about my father's age. He glared at the prospect walking past him on the way to claim his uniform. "What's the matter, princess? Did you piss your pants? I thought I smelled rank piss," he continued to rag the prospect in a humiliating way. This was how they broke you, by talking to you like you were beneath humanity. It made sense considering the fact they would be stripping that humanity away in order to rebuild us into something far worse.

  I pulled the picture of my family out of my pocket and unfolded it. My mother handed it to me as she stifled tears from her eyes just before I left home. It was the first time I remembered her showing any kind of emotion for me; it would also be my last.

  "What the hell is this?" A different policeman snatched the photo from my hands.

  "Hey," I protested. "Give that back to me!"

  "You know that personal effects are not allowed here, Prospect. It's about time you forgot about your pretty little family," he said as he tore the picture into quarters and dropped them to the ground with an overly dramatic laugh. "They won't even be a memory by time we’re done with you, boy."

  Rage filled my heart and I jumped out of line and tackled the policeman. I had no idea what had come over me. This was an act of stupidity in all its glory. I knew I was about to die for this stunt, maybe I even wished for it. A life of service to The Syndicate wasn't something to take lightly. In fact it was something many people could not reconcile themselves to do. I did not want to be a statistic, but I felt myself leaning into the category of those who would die in training.

  "Get this piece of shit off of me," the policeman said. I seethed as two others grabbed me and pulled me off of the older man. He stood up and shook the wrinkles out of his uniform and glared at me. "Get this prospect to the front of the line," he said as the other men drug me to the front of the receiving line. Given the circumstances I was amazed at the fact I wasn't dead.

  "I think our boss is gonna have something special planned for you, kid," one of the men who brought me to the front of the line said.

  "Yeah, like what?" I asked defiantly.

  "You'll see, and wished you hadn't." The policeman walked away and shook his head.

  "Next," another policeman at the head of the line called as he stared at me. I walked to pass him, but he stopped me. "A kid with that kind of fight in him would do best to recognize your ass belongs to The Agency now. Do you understand?" he asked.

  "Yes, sir," I replied. With no further words he signaled me to continue walking to retrieve my uniform.

  "Size?" the old man at the counter asked.

  "Large," I said nervously.

  "Take your civilian clothes off and place them in the incinerator, the changing room is over there," he pointed at a door fifteen yards to my right. "Your new uniform will be brought to you momentarily."

  I walked over to the changing area; the incinerator was used to burn the last physical evidence of your past. It was significant only in the fact this was the first stage of stripping away who you were. I unclothed myself and held the bundle in my hands. There was a shake to my hands that was not due to the temperature of the room. I was afraid, and I was angry. I opened the door to the incinerator with my left hand and watched the flames lap violently, hungry for my past. The oxygen in the room felt as if it were depleting the longer I watched the flames. It took me a moment to realize that I was merely holding my breath. I shook my head and shoved the bundle of clothes into the incinerator and slammed the door closed.

  Behind me a small hatch opened and a fresh uniform was dumped onto the floor by a set of uncaring hands. "Hurry up, the rest of the prospects are waiting," an unidentified voice said from the other side.

  I hurriedly put on the uniform and looked into the mirror when I finished. I could see myself, but I didn't recognize the man looking back at me. I was dressed like a veteran policeman minus the jacket. I was wearing black boots, black pants, and a black mock turtleneck that had the word prospect scrolled down the sleeves. This was how they identified who the prospects were, with silver lettering along the stark black sleeves.

  The door was slammed by an angry fist that startled me from my thoughts. "I said to hurry up, Prospect Gentry!" the man outside yelled at me again. I clamored for the doorknob and opened it. I was greeted by the policeman I had attacked for taking the picture of my family. He glared at me from head to toe, taking stock of the prospect that stood before him. The man angled his head slightly before backhanding me across the face. "Now, let the real fun begin," he said in a dramatic, deep voice.

  I looked at him and wanted to lash out at him again. Something in my mind told me not to; I didn't know if fighting back was a good idea or not, but it was the last thing I remembered before he head butted me in the face and everything went dark.

  Chapter 2

  "Well, how very nice of you to join us, Prospect Gentry," he chided. All eyes were on me as I stepped into ranks with my fellow prospects. The policeman now known to me as Agent Eros smiled at me, most likely enjoying the bruises on my face from where he had head butted me the day before. "Why don't you enthrall us with the details of why you were late," he said as condescendingly as possible. There was a slight snicker from my left, but it quieted as Eros turned in the direction it had come from.

  "I apologize, sir. I am without excuse," I said, hoping beyond hope he would turn his attention away from me.

  "Don't let it happen again, boy. I'll make sure you regret it if you do."

  "Yes, sir," I responded.

  "Today is a magical day for you, ladies," Eros said, now focused on the group as a whole. "We will begin our physical assessment and see what you have to offer The Agency. Let's hope none of you waste my time today." He stepped in front of me and looked down at my face. I struggled to look straight ahead and avoid eye contact. "Because if you do, then I might feel inclined to do something about it,” he snarled. “Am I understood?"

  The entire rank of prospects answered immediately, "Yes, sir!" Eros stood unmoving for a moment and hovered around me in an attempt to scare me. To be honest I was terrified of the man. He was ruthless, and I thought perhaps he might enjoy the misery of prospects a bit too much.

  "The test will begin when everyone reaches the gymnasium. It's a seven mile run. The first person to stop running will be fired upon," he said as he placed a silver gauntlet over his right arm and clasped it shut. His face showed a mere moment of discomfort before returning to normal. I had read that the gauntlet had sensors that pierced the skin and made contact with the nerves of the host's body. This was how the policemen could fire the gauntlet using their minds. "And in case you're wondering, my gauntlet is never set to stun. So if you stop running, you will be executed. Any questions?"
he asked.

  "No, sir," we shouted in response.

  "Let's move!" he ordered and the rank of prospects began running the seven mile track to the gymnasium. "Move it! Get your asses in gear," he belted the command within five hundred yards of where we started our run. I could feel the anxiety of what was in store for us. The first two miles was rather uneventful, but the third mile proved to be devastating for the prospect in front of me. He appeared to fall victim to a muscle cramp in his side and began to slow down. Agent Eros was quick to get involved.

  "Prospect Malroy, what is your major malfunction?" He asked with his voice raised in an angry pitch. Malroy sucked air and struggled to maintain his pace. "I asked you a question, Malroy," Agent Eros jeered while riding in a vehicle beside the young prospect. “You better not stop or else I'll have to kill you. Do you understand me, Malroy?"

  "Yes, sir," Malroy cried through grimaced teeth. The other prospects slowed down in an effort to allow him to keep the pace.

  "Don't slow down, don't show mercy, and keep running!" Agent Eros screamed. The leader of the pack, a boy named Vline, ignored the command from Eros. "I said speed up, dammit! That's an order!" Vline kept the slower pace, his feet moving to the steady rhythm of a silent drum. The quiet music of that drum ended when a laser blasted through Vline's back sending him onto the asphalt face first where he came skidding to a stop. The entire rank stopped running out of fear. "Did I say to stop?" Agent Eros screamed.

  "No, sir!" we replied in unison.

  "Get moving. The next one to stop will meet Prospect Vline's end!"

  We began running again. It must have been pure adrenaline for all of us because Malroy didn't seem to respond to the cramp in his side for the rest of the run. We came to a stop outside of the gymnasium and stood at attention, waiting for instructions to come from Agent Eros.

  "Gentry," he called.

  "Yes, sir," I answered.

  "Report," I was left to assume that I was now the prospect in charge of our group. I paused a moment too long. "I said report, Prospect Gentry."

  "All prospects present and/or accounted for," I said fearfully.

  "I count eleven prospects, there should be twelve," said another policeman who stepped up beside Eros.

  "Prospect Vline fell behind, sir. He has been relieved of duty." My statement seemed to paint a smile across both policemen's faces. The newly reported policeman patted Agent Eros on the back for a job well done in lowering the number of prospects. There was no secret; they made plans to minimize how many of us graduated training. Those who could not hack it were killed, the severity of their crimes ranging from minor infractions all the way to desertion. It was no wonder why people fled. This was a hell that no one should have to endure.

  "Prospects, this is Agent Alexara. He is in charge of this facility. Here you will be put to the test, both physically and mentally. This will be a marathon which will not end until the sun rises tomorrow. Agent Alexara, they're all yours."

  Agent Alexara smiled at Eros before responding, "Thank you, Agent Eros. All right, gentlemen. Once you enter my gymnasium you will see a large pedestal. Whichever one of you can cling to the top of that pedestal for the longest period of time will receive twenty four hours of rest. Whichever one of you is at the top for the shortest period of time will be executed. Any questions?" he asked.

  Silence engulfed our group. This was a test. It was a deadly game of king of the mountain where we had to fight to stay alive. Our silence was taken as no one having a question and Agent Alexara's lips curled beneath his sharp nose.

  "Very well," he said as his sinister grin grew larger. "Ready, set," the anticipation was killing me. "Go!”

  Chapter 3

  After hours of exertion I felt as if my heart were about to explode. I struggled to catch my breath as another set of arms wrapped around me from behind and tore me from my position on the pedestal. I could see another body coming at me from below and I quickly slammed my boot into their face in an attempt to preserve my place at the top.

  It was hopeless. Within seconds I lay in a heap at the bottom of the pile of young prospects sucking in oxygen and trying desperately not to throw up. My mind began to think that death would be a gentle release from the rigors of this pseudo war.

  “Stay down,” one of the guys whispered in my ear. His breath smelt of vomit and I imagined he had probably swallowed it in an attempt to keep Policeman Alexara from seeing weakness in him.

  I wanted to stay down. I wanted to stop, but I thought about my sister Ambree. I thought about the strength that she showed as I was hauled off from the recruiting station. I thought about the niece or nephew who I might never get the chance to see, even if I made it through this hell alive.

  I had to keep going, no matter what.

  I fought back against the people holding me down. I flailed about recklessly, but somehow connected against my opponents and sent them stumbling back. My life was on the line, and something in me finally broke free and let me realize that I valued my own life above those of my fellow prospects. I didn’t know if I would pass the test, but I knew that lying down to die was out of the question.

  Against every obstacle, every act of aggression, I fought my way back to the top of the pedestal as a whistle blew. I barely heard it over the sound of my own beating heart. It sounded like a bass drum inside my head. I doubled over and fought for breath as Agent Alexara approached the pedestal.

  “Bravo, gentlemen, that was such a heroic display, unlike any of the others I have seen.” He clapped as he carried himself over with a smirk. I knew it was all for show, he didn’t care about the stats, or the people fighting to survive this madness. He just enjoyed the gawking supervisory role that he held.

  He looked up at me from below and gestured for me to climb down. “Now for the moment you have been waiting for. The winner is,” he paused for effect. “Prospect Ayers!” he applauded enthusiastically as Ayers went to stand next to him. I felt green with envy at the fact the quiet kid in our group would be able to enjoy a reprieve from this suffering.

  “Now for the unprivileged player in my little world,” he stood stoically as he looked at the name on his tablet. He was stalling; the fear in each of us was feeding his maniacal ego. After another long pause he said a name. “Prospect Freise.” He said the name with a hissing sound at the end.

  I looked over to see the pale face of a guy I hadn’t spoken to since coming here. I didn’t know if I should be thankful for not knowing a dead man or not, but any regrets I might have had went silent as Agent Alexara’s gauntlet fired into Prospect Friese’s chest, killing him instantly.

  Agent Alexara looked back at the remaining prospects with a raised eyebrow. “As for the rest of you, get running.”

  That was when survivor’s regret crept into my mind, along with the stabbing pain shooting up my side as I tried to run away.

  Chapter 4

  A month had passed, but it felt like an eternity. I was alone with my thoughts in a dark room where the only evidence that anything surrounded me were blinking lights on some kind of monitor. I squinted trying to read the words, but I still could not make it out. Instead, the dull, pale glow taunted me.

  There was a beeping sound no louder than the soft chirp of a bird as it nestled in the warm glory of a summer night, but this glory was not where I sat. I was in the inner sanctum of hell, deep in the gut of the Agency’s lair. This was where my humanity would die. I closed my eyes as current coursed through my spine. The electrodes fed pain directly into my central nervous system like a mother fed her newborn baby. I was powerless, defenseless.

  Each spark in my body dulled my resolve. Each glimpse into my past betrayed the love I had for it. The machine controlled everything, and it knew when my emotions strayed.

  They called it “programming”. It felt as if I shared my mind with someone else, as if I were schizophrenic. At least a mental handicap would justify this turmoil, instead there was someone else to blame. This realization was re
gistered as a threat to the programming and another jolt rocked through my body. I almost wanted to vomit, but muscular contractions stifled the urge and instead I lay with the foul taste of bile in the back of my throat.

  My body was ravaged by the pain and I pinched my eyes closed as a door opened, allowing the cascading light to pierce through even my eyelids. I wanted to cry out, but who would care to console me? My thoughts once again drifted to my sister a moment before I could stop it from happening. The thought was met with more torture. I wished I could resent her for the pain I endured for her memory. The hatred seemed to soothe the pain as if it were the antidote for my misery.

  Banish love and adopt hate! It became my mantra through the days or weeks of “programming” where my soul depleted and my life ended as I once knew it. I was not even a shell of my former self. I could feel the change, a shameless indifference to humanity. Ninety-nine percent of my mind belonged to The Agency now, and one percent belonged to an elusive thought that triggered pain and detriment.

  I did not want to think of that one percent ever again.

  Chapter 5

  “Tell me, Prospect Gentry. Do you still love her?” his voice was booming and I winced at every word he said. I feared the pain that would be triggered by mentioning her. My memories grew more fragile every day, and I loathed them. Why couldn’t I forget?

  “No,” the word spilled from my lips like a secret urgent to be released. The pain I had grown accustomed to did not greet me with its gruesome presence. Instead, I breathed heavily and waited for further instructions.

  “Do you still love your parents?” Agent Eros asked.

  The thought of them did not bring the same trauma as it used to for Ambree. I replied without hesitation, “No.”

  I felt a hand rest upon my forehead as if it was searching for a fever, but I knew what it really sought, a trigger. The fingers spread out and investigated all they could touch, looking for evidence that I was holding something back, that my dismissive gaze covered the painful effects of the programming that retaliation was in my heart for all I had endured.