Rayne

  The remains of the T80 had long since been hauled away. Cut piece by piece from the small figure on the table, the suit was now no more than a slagged heap of metal waiting for recycling. The process had taken days and meticulous, painstaking work as doctors and med techs pulled black bio gel coatings from sensitive human skin. Bio gel was programmable to a certain extent and it could be made to move and act in the needed fashion, but when it became bonded to human skin, removing it took special chemicals and tools. While the removal had been successful, the new coloring suggested a deeper integration that may have extended to a cellular level. Whether it would be permanent only time could tell.

  Removing the battle suit had been a difficult task, but not the only one needing done. The young girl’s extended use of the T80 had prevented her from using eyes, ears, voice and digestive system. The eyes and others would adjust with time, but the digestive system would need some assistance. That work was now in its last stages and they would soon be preparing to bring the patient back to the real world.

  ***

  Mike stood outside the young girl’s room, with Jackson and Lena. He’d not been able to stay after initially arriving with the rescued pilot. The R&R had been cancelled for another rescue mission at a nearby mining colony and he and the rest of the squad, minus Jackson and Lena, had been shipped off. He’d arrived back earlier that day after their four week stint and was now staring dumbfounded at their rescued pilot.

  “Are you sure we’re in the right place?” Mike asked Jackson and Lena. He double checked some of the nearby med tech rooms and found them all empty on this wing.

  “I’m sure, Sarge.” Jackson looked at Lena with an amused grin and she returned it. They’d both healed nicely and were no longer wearing casts.

  “Huh. I’ll be damned.” Mike reached back and furiously rubbed the back of his stubbled head. “Really?”

  Jackson and Lena both broke out into open laughter.

  “Okay, very funny. Where’s the real pilot?” They continued laughing. “Quit screwin’ around. I want to see how she’s doing?” Lena doubled over with laughter, leaving it to Jackson to respond.

  “No joke, Sarge. That’s her. Here comes the doc. Ask her yourself.” A middle aged female doctor walked down the hall with a team of med techs in tow. The doctor wore a white lab coat, while the med techs wore white jump suits more reminiscent of a mechanic than anyone who should be working in a medical lab.

  Mike approached her.

  “Excuse me, ma’am. Is this the woman you all cut from the T80 last month? I was told she was on this level somewhere.” He was sure Jackson and Lena were pulling a practical joke and didn’t want to be the butt of the joke. It wouldn’t be the first time.

  The doctor smiled.

  “Sure is, marine. We’re going to be waking her up in a minute. If you want, you can watch from behind the glass. You hoping to get a date?” She smirked. “She is a little young for you, don’t you think?” She continued into the med tech room with her team, while Jackson sank to the floor with Lena, who was already gasping for breath on the floor.

  “Are you telling me a little teenage girl has one of the highest kill counts in the fleet?” He started laughing himself. He didn’t know why he was laughing, but the absurdity of it was just hilarious. They all laughed together for a good five minutes until they finally ran out of energy.

  ***

  Rayne liked butterflies. The thought caught in her mind…

  “Okay. Let’s pull the feeding tube first…”

  …white dress she wore billowed around her knees.

  “No. Not that one. Grab the other…”

  She smiled as the suns warmed her face and felt the winds gentle touch…

  “Yes. If you twist it like this instead of just…”

  …backed slowly away keeping a close eye on the shadows…

  “Perfect. Now dim the lights a little. Her eyes will…”

  …continued to back away as fear gripped her chest and…

  “Don’t crowd her. Everyone but you two, back up.”

  “Doctor. Heart and respiration are starting to...”

  …the fear down and replaced it with anger. She would not die afraid and hunted like prey. She took deep heavy breaths. Her hands clenched into fists.

  “Doctor? She just clenched her hands. That’s good…”

  Rayne screamed her rage and defiance and charged to meet her nightmare.

  “Holy sh…”

  “Look out!”

  ***

  The three looked on as the doctor walked the med techs through waking the patient. They pulled tubes, disposed of needles and other medical waste, pushing equipment no longer in use out of the way. After ten minutes, a med tech dimmed the lights.

  “Hey. This is kind of like going to old movies when they dim the lights before the show.” Jackson said.

  “You’re an idiot, Jackson.” Lena elbowed him in the ribs.

  “Don’t state the obvious, Lena. It makes you sound stupid.” Mike scolded with mock seriousness.

  “Sorry, Sarge. I promise…Holy sh…” Lena staggered back as one of the med techs came flying at the glass. Mike and Jackson both did the same. Fortunately for them, the glass was shatter resistant, but the tech wasn’t conscious to appreciate that fact. Inside the room, the young teenage girl was beating the holy living snot out of the medical team. The girl moved at lightning speed with all the viciousness of a cornered animal and the lethal precision of a machine. Three med techs and the doctor lay unconscious on the floor in the space of a second, with the other two beating a hasty retreat of the exit.

  “Two, Three. On me.” Mike raced past the fleeing med techs to the door, not bothering to check whether Jackson and Lena were behind him.

  ***

  Rayne screamed in rage. She was blinded by the lights, unable to see her attackers. She saw indistinct shapes surrounding her; blocking her escape. Rayne struck at the closest target with her fist. Restraining hands grabbed for her arms and legs. She threw an elbow and kicked out with her leg, then rolled off the table to her feet and kicked the last of her attackers in the head. He crumpled into a heap on the ground with the others.

  Rayne tried to look at her surroundings but the glare was too bright. She squinted her eyes and tried to shield them with her hand. The lights were like daggers to the back of her skull. She looked around frantically for an escape route, but all she saw was white glare in every direction. Rayne screamed in frustration and then finally saw the open cargo bay door. If she ran now, she’d be into the cover of the jungle before anyone could catch her. She ran blindly forward only to hit a wall of solid rock, and sprawled back stunned.

  Rayne looked up and saw her way was blocked by another enemy. She stood and launched herself at the attacker barring her way. Instead of the fist he was expecting, Rayne launched a foot between his legs. He bent over at the waist and she finished him off with an elbow to the temple. She spun back to the door only to find two more attackers charging through. She darted left but they were on her before she’d gone a step. They fell to the ground in a tumbled heap and Rayne rolled, punching and kicking for her life. Fighting her way to her feet, she made it two steps to the door before being taken down again. This time they had her. She struggled, but couldn’t move. She screamed and screamed again, her voice ragged and hoarse. Hot tears ran down her face, the first in three years.

  “Hold her still, damn it!”

  “I’m trying, but I’m trying not to hurt her!”

  “Yeah, and that plan’s worked great so far. Keep it up.”

  “Shut up! Ow! I think she knocked a tooth loose.”

  “Just keep her still!”

  “Is that my blood? I think she broke my nose.”

  “Probably improved your looks. Lock that arm down before she gets loose.”

  “Hey, Sarge? You awake yet?”

  A g
roan, and someone crawling to their knees. Rayne briefly saw someone crouched in the fetal position gasping for air before she had to close her eyes against the glare.

  “We could use a little help here, Sarge!”

  Another groan, followed by a cough and retching sound. The third subject crawled to where she lay restrained on the ground. She bucked and twisted, attempting to break free. Rayne’s voice no longer worked and she raged silently as she fought to free herself. She pulled one arm free and cracked it into the face of the big one holding her arms.

  “Ow! Damn it! It was already broke. Sarge! I need help now! Forget your balls. We’ll look for them later!”

  The third figure dropped down and trapped her recently freed arm. They were nearly face to face.

  “Stop.” He said calmly with a husky, pained voice. “Please stop.”

  Rayne tried to head but him, but he turned his head away and she missed. He spoke softly in her ear.

  “Stop. We’re not here to hurt you. Stop.”

  Rayne stopped struggling, but was still tensed and strained at the hands holding her. She took deep, heaving breaths, trying to pull enough oxygen into her system to keep fighting again when the opportunity presented itself. All she needed was an opening.

  “Do you mind, Jackson? You’re bleeding over everything.”

  “Thuck it Lena. My nozth ith boke.”

  “Hahaha. Now you really sound like an idiot.”

  “Will you two shut up? I’m trying to get her to calm down. It’s bad enough I can’t feel anything below my waist right now without you to morons chattering.”

  Rayne tested her captors’ grip. They had her solid and she wasn’t going anywhere. Running footsteps sounded in the hallway and stopped at the door.

  “What is going on here?!”

  “What’s it look like? We’re all getting our asses handed to us by a little girl. Care to take a turn?”

  “Let her go. We can take it from here.”

  “Are you nuts? You know what it took to get her down?”

  “You three might have trouble with a little girl, but I think we can handle it. Now let her up.”

  “You’re the boss. Lena, let her legs go.”

  Rayne took her advantage and lashed out with a wicked kick that met soft flesh. A body crashed to the floor.

  Everyone in the room gave a collective groan.

  “Has anyone seen my balls? While you’re at it look for his, too.”

  Laughter sounded as someone groaned and wretched by the door. Rayne stopped. Laughter. She’d forgotten what it sounded like. She relaxed a little and tried to open her eyes. The three figures holding her were laughing in genuine amusement. Although the lights still hurt, they had adjusted just enough she could make out her surroundings. She was in a hospital room. The windows were broken, equipment was overturned and there were unconscious bodies sprawled on the floor, but it was a hospital room. And then the realization dawned on her. She was seeing with her own eyes and hearing with her own ears. She could feel the soft material of the hospital gown on her skin and the firm grip of hands on her limbs. It kind of hurt.

  Rayne tried to speak but failed. Her voice was sore and locked up when she tried to speak. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I’m sorry.” She rasped. “You can let me go now.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Rayne hugged her knees tightly to her chest; trying to suppress the shivers that racked her body as she sat in the corner with her back against the wall. She was cold and felt exposed, lonely and small. She knew it was crazy, but she missed the comforting, warm embrace and protection of the T80. She’d wished and hoped for freedom for so long and now there was nothing and she felt a sense of abandonment she was struggling to cope with. She was rescued wasn’t she? So why did she feel this way?

  She squeezed her eyes tight against the glare of the overhead lights. They were so bright. Why couldn’t they turn them down? She took a sip of warm broth from the plastic cup in her hand; trying to steal its warmth. The tech who’d delivered it had been accompanied by two security officers. She’d seen them coming through the intense glare of the lights and reinforced glass windows. The guards gave her hard looks and tightened their grip on their stun batons. Rayne didn't like the guards. They had been less than gentle when escorting her to her new room. The tech had approached cautiously with the cup at arm’s length, set it on a table and fast walked out the door as the guards backed out.

  She glanced down at her ebony skin; running a hand over its smooth surface. It didn’t feel right. She snorted at the thought. How would she even know? She hadn’t touched her own skin for three years, but her memory of what it should feel like didn’t match what she felt now. The first look in the mirror had been a shock and she'd spent several long minutes examining her new look. She'd always been fair skinned with dark reddish brown hair and the new color was going to take some getting used to. She wasn't particularly bothered by the change and was actually more annoyed at the lack of hair on her head. She'd always liked her hair long. Her mother used to say she'd had beautiful hair as she ran a brush through it at the end of the day. She missed the sensation of the brush through her hair as she ran a hand over her smooth head and looked around the room.

  Since the last room had been destroyed, she’d been escorted under heavy guard to this one. It was stripped of most everything and consisted of mainly just four walls, a bathroom and the med tech table. It had a clean sterile smell, but the heavy door and locks couldn’t be standard. Had she just traded her T80 prison for a larger one? Time would tell.

  Rayne took her time sipping the broth. After three years of not using her mouth to eat, the taste and feel of it were heaven. She took a sip and closed her eyes; letting the warm fluid slide down her throat. She enjoyed the sensation for several seconds and took another sip, repeating the process until the cup was empty. She tipped her head back and turned the cup upside down to get every last drop. She set the cup carefully down on the polished floor and enjoyed the sensation of the warmth it had created deep inside her.

  Something was missing though, and in the midst of the chaos she hadn’t noticed it until now. Silence. The sensation of finally being free of the combat suit’s metal prison was countered by the total quiet that now pervaded her existence. As weird as she knew it was, she missed the machine chatter inside her head: the alerts, scans, status checks and mapping that had been her constant companion for the last three years. The machine had talked to her in its own way and she had talked back in turn. She no longer had the constant input and companionship the T80’s software had provided. Maybe that’s where the sense of abandonment came from. It was like she had lost a friend. All that was left was a dull ache in the back of her head and the faint sound of static. Like the speakers on a sound system that had been left on, but the input disconnected.

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw a doctor walking past the glass window of her room. He was short, about her height or maybe a little taller. He had a round shape that prevented him from buttoning his white lab coat and had a bald head he was trying to hide with a poorly made attempt to comb what little hair he had on the side over the top.

  He spoke briefly with the two guards outside her door. They nodded and cast sidelong glances at her and then moved toward the door with their stun batons in hand. Rayne stood and took several steps away from the wall, putting the med tech table between her and the approaching guards. They stopped midway into the room with batons at the ready, the doctor standing between and just behind them.

  "I am Dr. Alan," he said with a nasally voice that grated on her ears, looking down the length of his pudgy nose as he spoke. Rayne immediately decided she didn't like him. "You are required to come with me for psychological testing and evaluation. This is not a request." He looked at her with a long, hard stare. Rayne stared back offering nothing in reply. "Any resistance on your part will not be
taken lightly and you will be taken by force if necessary." The doctor huffed importantly.

  It was obvious the good doctor wouldn't be administering any of the force. Rayne guessed the only force he was capable of applying was to the food he stuffed in his overly big mouth. As for the guards, they looked eager and willing. Both were average height and moderately fit, but had the look of someone who'd spent more time behind a security monitor than actually using the stun batons they gripped in their soft hands. Rayne looked past them to the open door they'd neglected to close and lock behind them. She decided she didn't like this man and would not do anything he told her.

  “No," she replied hoarsely, looking the doctor in the eye. The doctor's already ruddy complexion turned even redder and the guards hefted their batons.

  "Gentlemen." The doctor said imperiously. "Take this young lady into custody and bring her with me. Drag her kicking and screaming if necessary." The security guards grinned and stepped forward. They had been waiting for a chance to rough up their charge after she had taken a cheap shot at their corporal. They held him in high esteem and thought the only way she'd gotten the best of him was a blindsided kick with a little help from the three marines with her. The marines laughing as they walked away had done nothing to dispel this idea, especially since it was completely true. Security personnel hated the marines anyway and that was not likely to change anytime soon.

  The guard on the left turned to the other while trying to keep one eye on Rayne and tried to give him a brief plan of action. In doing so, Rayne saw his weight shift to his heels at the same time distracting his fellow, who was not as wise, and completely shifted his focus away from her. Rayne was never one to wait for an attack to come to her. She always attacked first if she could or at least met it head on.

  She dove feet first under the table separating her from her new enemy. She slid briefly across the floor and kicked at the knee of the distracted guard. He crashed to the ground, screaming in pain and letting go of his stun baton at the same time. It clattered to the floor and Rayne scooped it up with her right hand. She spun to her knees and blocked the other guard’s strike arcing down toward her head. Had he used a short stab with the baton, he may have had a chance, but had instead used a Hail Mary strike using all his power. While devastating if contact were made, the movement was slow and had allowed her the space and time to protect herself. Rayne batted the strike away from her head, still with one knee on the ground, reversed her swing and brought it across his knee caps. He screamed in agony and fell to the ground. Unlike his fellow, he still held his baton and attempted to use it to defend himself as Rayne struck at him with a series of hard fast blows. He managed to block the first two strikes as he gave off high pitched screams, more out of luck than anything else, but the third caught him on the temple and he ceased to move.