The Turning Point
Content
5/17/15: The Turning Point
By Kevin Thomas Aldrich
Rise, a soulless voice said inside my head. Smirking, I examined my body. One of my puny human arms had been replaced with a four-foot tentacle of servos and flexsteel alloy, tipped with a flame-jet nozzle. All of my senses had been enhanced with implants, and my whole body was physically stronger. You will be tested, the mechanical voice said. Crush the boulder. I picked up a large rock in front of me and effortlessly turned it to gravel. Complete the puzzle, I heard, looking at a keypad and some writing. After about one second, I effortlessly entered the correct combination. A concealed door opened, and I walked through. I easily bypassed a holo-field by melting the projector. Travel north x-125, east y-140 and open the black door. Automatically, I went to these coordinates and opened the door. As I did, I heard the voice in my head whisper, Twenty experiments enter the stadium, but only ten will leave. Begin. I had walked into a battle-stadium. My opponent: a huge, muscular man with blades... well, everywhere. But I was smaller and faster, plus I had a flamethrower. Within about a minute, he was on the ground, bleeding, with my tentacle around his neck. At that moment, I regained a bit of control over the software in my brain. Just enough to think, “Why am I doing this?” before I snapped the neck of a man whose only crime was to have been randomly chosen. I felt sick inside, but when I was called to a specific area, I followed orders mindlessly. The other nine remaining experiments and I ended up in a small room that's only furnishing was a data relay device. The soulless, robotic voice began anew. You have come here to meet the other super-soldiers. Commence scanning, Ex-14. I felt a desire to scan the other cyborgs, and forced praise. They had designated me. But without control, my eye pointed towards each of the other super-soldiers in turn. They all had different cybernetic parts and implants, but I felt that I was the strongest. With a bit of disgust, I realized that all of the others were scanning me as well. Interrupting my thoughts came a harsh voice. You have been chosen for a... special assignment. You will infiltrate the weak human resistance. Then my vision went black. When I finally came to, some hours later, it was because of the prod of a gun barrel. A pretty young guy in faded, ratty fatigues asked, “You got robot parts. You one of 'em?” Short and to the point. I stood up, and despite my hardest resistance, answered, “No, I have nothing to do with them. The
aliens experimented on me, but I escaped. Are you with the resistance? I want to fight.” “You got fire in your heart. Sure, we always need more people fighting. But... you’re gonna have to meet the council. The bosses'll have to approve you.” As he clamped a weird bracelet on my wrist, I wondered, with the controlled portion of my brain, what would happen with the council. “Base. Council room. Activate,” said the solder into his bracelet. Around me, the world shimmered, disappeared, and rematerialized. On one side, I was surrounded by people- the council, I supposed. “A new soldier,” one said, “Is he on our side?” “He says he escaped. He seems pretty strong.” With a mind of its own, the flame-jet on my tentacle pointed towards the council. With all my prodigious mental strength, I finally broke the brainlock. I put down my flame-jet and said, “I’m not… who I said. The aliens… took over my mind. I… only just regained control. I have a lot of willpower, but I’m not sure I can keep this up.” As I expected, apprehension dawned in their faces. “I know how to free myself. I have the knowledge in my brain. I can lead you to the … ergh… control center. If I act at all weird, though, don’t… uhh… hesitate to incapacitate me.” I still had to fight for control. “We understand,” the same councilman said, “We have two people to help you head the team. You should know them…” With a hiss, a door opened revealing possibly my two best friends: Grant Harrison and Ace Keeley. I won’t go into detail, but in 2011, they had been my friends. “We got work to do,” Ace said with a grin. Exhilarated smile on his face, Grant added, “Let’s kick some alien butt.” On the armored hover-transport we were on, I started a conversation. “So, did Obama win reelection?” “Mmm, I forget,” Grant answered, “You liking the reverse-engineered 2015 tech?” “It’s awesome, hovercraft, laser weapons, teleportation,” I replied, “and the implants and tentaclethingy are cool. Plus I have an oxide flamethrower.” “We’ve reached blackout point,” Ace announced, “Everyone have their weapons and armor?” As affirmations were announced, he muttered, “We’re going in.” We quickly crossed about half a mile of desert and reached the base. I quickly set up a mindlink with the facility and announced to the about twenty infantrymen with us, “We’ll contact you if necessary.” Beckoning to Ace and Grant, I thought, Open door HA-18. Code 198346583. The door opened, and I got my first real glance at our elusive enemy. How about a quick introduction? Animalia Chordata Synapsida Therapsida Groxidae Mechanicaos cruelis. Or, more simply, the Grox. They’re essentially big, red, cuddly, evil cyborg teddy bears, but teddy bears that were oppressing the Earth.
My brain clicked into combat mode. The three of us went to work. I began burning, blasting, clubbing, strangling, and on a few, decapitating through pure whiplash. My friends were no slouches, either. All was fine, until… Kill them, the voice in voice said, renewed. Fed up, I yelled “Oh, shut up!” and sent a wave of burning oxygen toward what I subconsciously knew was the main computer controlling me and nine other innocent people. I felt so free… Memory flashing in my eyes, the person who had personally experimented on me became apparent. I strode over, mentally disengaged my flame-jet’s igniter, and gave the Grox a blast of oxygen in his face. Pure oxygen is poison to those scumbags, the Grox. “Lights out.” About twenty feet away, Ace clubbed the final Grox on the head and said into his communicator, “Come on in, boys, we got some trash for you to take out.” Within a minute, all of the soldiers were in.
By Kevin Thomas Aldrich
Rise, a soulless voice said inside my head. Smirking, I examined my body. One of my puny human arms had been replaced with a four-foot tentacle of servos and flexsteel alloy, tipped with a flame-jet nozzle. All of my senses had been enhanced with implants, and my whole body was physically stronger. You will be tested, the mechanical voice said. Crush the boulder. I picked up a large rock in front of me and effortlessly turned it to gravel. Complete the puzzle, I heard, looking at a keypad and some writing. After about one second, I effortlessly entered the correct combination. A concealed door opened, and I walked through. I easily bypassed a holo-field by melting the projector. Travel north x-125, east y-140 and open the black door. Automatically, I went to these coordinates and opened the door. As I did, I heard the voice in my head whisper, Twenty experiments enter the stadium, but only ten will leave. Begin. I had walked into a battle-stadium. My opponent: a huge, muscular man with blades... well, everywhere. But I was smaller and faster, plus I had a flamethrower. Within about a minute, he was on the ground, bleeding, with my tentacle around his neck. At that moment, I regained a bit of control over the software in my brain. Just enough to think, “Why am I doing this?” before I snapped the neck of a man whose only crime was to have been randomly chosen. I felt sick inside, but when I was called to a specific area, I followed orders mindlessly. The other nine remaining experiments and I ended up in a small room that's only furnishing was a data relay device. The soulless, robotic voice began anew. You have come here to meet the other super-soldiers. Commence scanning, Ex-14. I felt a desire to scan the other cyborgs, and forced praise. They had designated me. But without control, my eye pointed towards each of the other super-soldiers in turn. They all had different cybernetic parts and implants, but I felt that I was the strongest. With a bit of disgust, I realized that all of the others were scanning me as well. Interrupting my thoughts came a harsh voice. You have been chosen for a... special assignment. You will infiltrate the weak human resistance. Then my vision went black. When I finally came to, some hours later, it was because of the prod of a gun barrel. A pretty young guy in faded, ratty fatigues asked, “You got robot parts. You one of 'em?” Short and to the point. I stood up, and despite my hardest resistance, answered, “No, I have nothing to do with them. The
aliens experimented on me, but I escaped. Are you with the resistance? I want to fight.” “You got fire in your heart. Sure, we always need more people fighting. But... you’re gonna have to meet the council. The bosses'll have to approve you.” As he clamped a weird bracelet on my wrist, I wondered, with the controlled portion of my brain, what would happen with the council. “Base. Council room. Activate,” said the solder into his bracelet. Around me, the world shimmered, disappeared, and rematerialized. On one side, I was surrounded by people- the council, I supposed. “A new soldier,” one said, “Is he on our side?” “He says he escaped. He seems pretty strong.” With a mind of its own, the flame-jet on my tentacle pointed towards the council. With all my prodigious mental strength, I finally broke the brainlock. I put down my flame-jet and said, “I’m not… who I said. The aliens… took over my mind. I… only just regained control. I have a lot of willpower, but I’m not sure I can keep this up.” As I expected, apprehension dawned in their faces. “I know how to free myself. I have the knowledge in my brain. I can lead you to the … ergh… control center. If I act at all weird, though, don’t… uhh… hesitate to incapacitate me.” I still had to fight for control. “We understand,” the same councilman said, “We have two people to help you head the team. You should know them…” With a hiss, a door opened revealing possibly my two best friends: Grant Harrison and Ace Keeley. I won’t go into detail, but in 2011, they had been my friends. “We got work to do,” Ace said with a grin. Exhilarated smile on his face, Grant added, “Let’s kick some alien butt.” On the armored hover-transport we were on, I started a conversation. “So, did Obama win reelection?” “Mmm, I forget,” Grant answered, “You liking the reverse-engineered 2015 tech?” “It’s awesome, hovercraft, laser weapons, teleportation,” I replied, “and the implants and tentaclethingy are cool. Plus I have an oxide flamethrower.” “We’ve reached blackout point,” Ace announced, “Everyone have their weapons and armor?” As affirmations were announced, he muttered, “We’re going in.” We quickly crossed about half a mile of desert and reached the base. I quickly set up a mindlink with the facility and announced to the about twenty infantrymen with us, “We’ll contact you if necessary.” Beckoning to Ace and Grant, I thought, Open door HA-18. Code 198346583. The door opened, and I got my first real glance at our elusive enemy. How about a quick introduction? Animalia Chordata Synapsida Therapsida Groxidae Mechanicaos cruelis. Or, more simply, the Grox. They’re essentially big, red, cuddly, evil cyborg teddy bears, but teddy bears that were oppressing the Earth.
My brain clicked into combat mode. The three of us went to work. I began burning, blasting, clubbing, strangling, and on a few, decapitating through pure whiplash. My friends were no slouches, either. All was fine, until… Kill them, the voice in voice said, renewed. Fed up, I yelled “Oh, shut up!” and sent a wave of burning oxygen toward what I subconsciously knew was the main computer controlling me and nine other innocent people. I felt so free… Memory flashing in my eyes, the person who had personally experimented on me became apparent. I strode over, mentally disengaged my flame-jet’s igniter, and gave the Grox a blast of oxygen in his face. Pure oxygen is poison to those scumbags, the Grox. “Lights out.” About twenty feet away, Ace clubbed the final Grox on the head and said into his communicator, “Come on in, boys, we got some trash for you to take out.” Within a minute, all of the soldiers were in.
