The Esoteric Design: Disbanding Hope Read online

  “Damn it, Troy!” she gasped, her hand pressing against her chest.

  She stopped running, taking a wide stance, but the trail kept moving. Troy stood in front of her, his body levitating over the scene. He gave her a crooked smile and spoke, but his words were inaudible.

  “Pause music,” Aria huffed. “Stop training session.”

  Silence engulfed the area; the trees and sunlight faded into a white sterile room. Aria stood atop a running platform, her feet on either side of the track that was slowly winding down. She eyed the man standing in front of her, looking a bit irritated for being interrupted.

  “What?” she asked. Her hands went to her hips, her bare stomach flexing with each heavy breath. She unconsciously messed with the straps of her black and blue sports bra.

  “I said your name a few times, but you didn’t respond.” He shrugged.

  “So you stand in front of me and stare at my face like a big creeper?” she asked incredulously. “Scared the shit out of me.”

  He gave a small chuckle. “Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

  “No, you never can,” she muttered, stepping over the track and snatching up the bottle of water on the floor beside her. “So, what’s up? You come in here just to scare me?”

  He handed over a digital parchment. “They’re finally releasing us.”

  “’Bout damn time,” she grumbled, swiping her finger across the screen into a messy signature of Courtney Clarke. She then grabbed her matching lightweight exercise jacket from the rack beside the door and slipped it on, leaving it unzipped.

  “They said we’ve both healed ‘amazingly’ well. And we’ve both passed our psychiatric evaluations.” He clapped his hands together as he gave a small, cheerful ‘yay.’

  Aria glared at the man but not in anger at him. “That test pissed me off.”

  After their small argument with the nurse, the two soldiers were required to take separate evaluations to ensure they didn’t suffer from PTSD or any other type of psychological distress. Some of the questions were routine, a few others more subjected toward the mention of hallucinations and hearing voices. As much as Aria wanted to purposefully botch-up the whole thing, she kept her mouth shut and gave the expected answers. At that point, she was ready to do anything to get checked out of the clinic.

  “Everything pisses you off.” Troy walked toward the exit. “You seemed to be doing well during your run, though. Everything feel alright?”

  Aria nodded, sipping her water. “A little stiff here and there and wobbly in the ankles, but nothing a bit more exercising can’t fix.” She eyed her shins, taking in the large scar that traveled up her leg. “Can’t say much about that scar, though.”

  “Makes you look tough. Besides, the doctor said it’d fade in a few months.” Troy flipped through the pages on the screen. “I like those pants, by the way,” he muttered.

  Aria looked down at her tight cropped grey running pants. Her multi-colored sneakers highlighted against the dull color.

  “Really shows off your ass,” he said quickly, passing through the gym’s door as he read the file in his hands.

  Aria puffed a sigh, following the man into the rehabilitation wing of the hospital. Ignoring his comment, she looked him over from head to toe. He wore his camo pants, boots, and typical black muscle shirt. Troy rarely wore anything different unless he was attending parties or funerals. A sudden shuffle in his movement made Aria notice Troy had a slight hobble to his gait.

  “And your leg?” she asked.

  “Hm, almost healed completely. I lied a bit on the pain test, but I’m not sitting in here any longer. As long as I wear my full gear on the field, I should be fine.” He shook the bottle in his hands. “Got me some drugs to help with the pain. Most of it is in my hip, but damned if I’m going to be using a cane!”

  “Should you be using a cane?” Aria asked. “I can tell you’re in pain.”

  “Naw, I’m good,” he said quickly, shoving the medication into the pocket of his military pants. “I can play old man once this war’s done and over with.”

  “And what did they say about your heart?” she asked, giving him the typical stare-down which always made him uncomfortable.

  “Uh….” Troy looked up from the screen in his hands and then grinned. “Well, there he is!”

  Aria turned her attention to where Troy’s was. Aren was standing next to the front desk. His dark hair—streaked with hints of orange—was slicked back. He wore his military slacks and boots and wore a sports T-shirt with his leather pilot jacket over the top. Large sunglasses rested on his collar. A couple suitcases sat on the floor beside him. The young pilot smiled at the approaching two.

  “Sir, Ma’am.” He nodded, giving a quick handshake to Troy. “Was wondering when they were going to let you out of this place.”

  “Same here.” Troy handed the digital parchment to the woman at the front desk. She then passed it to her robotic secretary which scanned the item before placing it in the large filing system inside the wall. “Was beginning to feel a bit too much like home.”

  Aria glanced at Troy, not believing he suddenly forgot the question she just asked him. His sight darted to her and back to Aren.

  “Ms. Clarke?” the receptionist asked. “I’ve got one more thing I need you to do before you leave.”

  Aria apprehensively looked toward the woman. “Yeah? What is it?”

  The lady eagerly held out a small metal box with a hole in the side. “Please place your finger inside. The lab has requested another blood sample from you. They detected something strange in the last sample.”

  “Strange?” Aria muttered. “It’s probably the nanomites. I had a major blood transfusion many years ago, so my nano count is high.”

  Aria stuck her finger into the box and waited for the sharp prick of the needle that drew out her blood. After a quiet chime, she removed herself.

  “I’m not sure what it is. They didn’t specify, but they would like to double-check,” the woman replied. After she had passed the sample over to the robot secretary, the woman flipped through her list and then nodded. “Okay! You’re good to go! We’ll give you a call if we find anything unusual or need anything else.”

  Aria gave the woman an awkward half-smile and then turned toward Troy, pushing him forward. She just wanted to leave already.

  “Well, I’ve got the car ready outside,” Aren said, lifting the two bags. He led the way toward the exit, pulling on his sunglasses. “Bright and sunny out today.”

  Troy snagged a suitcase from Aren’s hand. “I can carry my own luggage, man.”

  Aria kept walking, allowing the young man to take hers. He looked at her in anticipation and then smiled, gladly lugging it for her.

  “Where’s the rest of our belongings?” she asked.

  They stepped out of the hospital, the world suddenly loud and vibrant with fast-paced vehicles, chiming food vendors, and flashing advertisements. It made the woman cringe. It was an awful contrast to the replica forest she had been running in only a few minutes before.

  “They allowed me to take the armor and the rest of your belongings home the day they admitted you,” Aren said, loading the case into the back of the car. “I have it all packed up nicely back here.”

  Closing the trunk of the car, he rushed to the side, opening the door for the woman. She slipped inside, making herself comfortable on the leather seat. Troy opened the other door and dropped in beside her. Aren happily took the passenger seat in the front. The driver of the car was an automated drone–a high-end model. It gleefully chimed a ‘welcome’ to the group before gripping the steering wheel with two long skinny clamps. Then it merged into traffic.

  “Oh, this is Franklin,” Aren introduced the bot in the driver’s seat.

  Aria didn’t trust automated vehicles too much. They may have had perfect driving records offensively, but they didn’t always come equipped with the best defensive modules. If a human driver made one error, sometimes the bots didn’t re
spond quick enough. Her eyes fell to the model type on the back of the floating spherical drone. ‘Elixis-Guard Plus’ was scrawled into the metal. At least it was the best the world had to offer. Aren must’ve dropped a year’s worth of wages for the technology.

  “We aren’t going home?” she asked.

  “Can’t risk it. I have a hotel booked for us to stay in.”

  “Us?” she asked.

  “Erm…well, I figured it was a good idea if I stuck around, you know?” the man stammered. “I mean…we’re like a team now, right?”

  Aria eyed him cautiously and then looked over at Troy, who was giving her a disapproving look.

  “I know I’m not Gavin, b-but I figured that maybe I could help you guys out. I-I know I’m not a soldier, but I know a lot in the tech department…” he said anxiously.

  “Hey, man! Of course, we’re a team!” Troy stated, leaning forward in his seat. “You’ve helped us out a bunch so far.”

  Aria glared at Troy. He returned her a similar look of his own.

  “Besides, we need you to fix our DNAISs.” He shook a wrist.

  Aren laughed nervously as he scratched the top of his head. “Yeah, yeah, sorry about that. It’s the best I could do before turning you over to the doctors.”

  “How’d you know about Courtney Clarke?” Aria asked.

  “Uh, well…” Aren stammered. “While you guys were off getting smashed to pieces, I had some time to go over the data you copied into my DNAIS. I copied some of Troy’s data, too. It took some geeking and re-programming, but I was able to do it. From there, I could access some medical history information. I found out a lot about your father through some of the files you saved,” he said to Troy. He looked at Aria. “And…well, I couldn’t find anything from your lineage, and I couldn’t use your data, so I used Courtney’s. I…um did some digging through your private files in order to find that information.”

  “You read my diary?!” Aria growled.

  “I had no choice!” Aren held up his hands defensively. “I was short on time. I was searching, and I found some connections between you and Mr. Clarke, and from there I was able to dig up more information in the Bio-Tech Identification Systems and pulled up her medical files. A little plug here and there, and I changed your identity.”

  Despite how peeved the woman was to know that the young man had gone through her personal data, she was impressed by his abilities to gather information from encrypted sources. And he acted like it was nothing. He actually was a valuable asset.

  “I know someone you should meet,” Troy murmured, glancing out the window. Aren had a common interest with a member of Delta Team Phoenix codenamed ‘Nerd.’

  “How much did you read?” Aria asked.

  “Not much! I was just scanning for names, anything that would give me something to work with.” Aren cleared his throat. “Don’t worry. All your secrets are safe with me.” His eyes darted to Troy. The other man noticed, and he eyed Aria suspiciously.

  The woman lunged forward in her seat. Snarling, she grabbed Aren’s head and pulled him into a headlock.

  “Damn right they are!” she yelled. “Cuz if they ever leave your skull, I’m cracking it open, you hear me?”

  “Ow, ow! Okay! Okay!” Aren whimpered, tapping her on the shoulder.

  Aria quickly removed her death-grip from the man’s neck and dropped back into her seat, folding her arms. Troy was laughing, shaking his head. The woman was silent a moment, fuming. Then, she noisily growled.

  “And you went through my personal things!” She pointed toward the back of the car where the suitcases were kept. The thought of Aren digging through her underwear drawer was not only infuriating but embarrassing. She was sure she still had a pair or two that had tiny animal and star prints.

  Aren rubbed his neck, wincing. “You’ll be glad I did! Trust me; I know how a woman thinks!”

  Troy eyed Aren; his mouth dropped. ‘My God, he is a flamboyant…’ he thought. Now, the role was reversed. Aren went through his things, too. ‘He dug through my underwear drawer!’

  Troy palmed his forehead, mentally groaning. He had a few pairs of women’s panties in his drawers that he had kept as trophies. How did Aren view that? He looked up, catching an amused stare from Aren. ‘Damn it!’

  Aria caught Troy’s despairing look. It had taken a moment before she registered what her partner must’ve been thinking. She laughed out loud.

  “Shut up, woman!” he swore at her, mentally.

  Aria ignored him, laughing louder just to spite. Troy was ready to throttle her, to do anything to get her to quiet her guffawing. As he glared at her, he noticed the nearing Bio-Tech Military Corporation building. Something caught his eye, and he leaned over Aria, looking out her window.

  “W-What are you doing?” she asked, pressing back into her seat.

  Rushing out the side entrance of the corporation was Dr. Camery. Over one shoulder slung a medical bag, the nervous doctor shoving supplies and old paperwork into the sack. He suspiciously looked over his shoulders before boarding a sleek vehicle with blacked-out windows.

  “Where the hell are you going, Camery?” Troy asked aloud, pointing a finger against the glass.

  Aren and Aria watched, their heads twisting as they passed by Camery and the building.

  “Follow him,” Aria ordered.

  Aren fumbled about, grabbing the bot and disengaging it from the steering wheel. The system gave a few alerts as Aren clumsily climbed into the driver’s seat and took control. He pressed a few buttons on the dash, the center panel opening up to reveal the manual override system. Popping the center handle and looking into the rearview mirror, he slowed down and pulled into an old agricultural warehouse. He waited until Camery’s vehicle sped past them.

  “He’s in a hurry,” Troy said, looking through his side window.

  Aren slammed the car into reverse, darting out into traffic and across three lanes. The other vehicles whizzed by, some honking their horns, many centimeters away from crashing into them. Wheeling the vehicle around, Aren manually shifted the car back forward facing and raced after Camery’s car.

  “Holy shit, I thought we were going to die,” Aria murmured, her nails digging into Troy’s shoulder.

  “Think I’m a good pilot?” Aren asked. “I drove cars long before I learned how to fly.”

  “Just keep it on the road, please,” Aria whined.

  Within seconds, Aren was near Camery. He kept his distance, being sure to stay inconspicuous as he trailed behind. He soon grew nervous, however, noticing the skyscrapers drop to smaller heights, the rail systems lowering in number, and the massive traffic packs dissipating.

  “This may not be good,” he said, pulling further away from the car.

  “What?” Aria asked.

  “I think he plans on leaving town,” Aren said, looking over his shoulder before merging into a side lane.

  “Why would he leave the city? What’s out there?” Aria leaned to gain a better view out the front window.

  “Not sure.” Aren shrugged.

  “Wherever he’s going, I’m sure Walten’s nearby,” Troy stated.

  “Should I follow?” Aren asked.

  “Yes, keep following.” Aria opened the middle seat compartment between her and Troy. “You pack our weapons?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Why?” Aren sputtered.

  Aria ducked into the compartment, her rear-end in the air as she searched the trunk for her gun. Troy stared at the woman’s backside with wide eyes, giving Aren a thumbs-up. The pilot gave a quiet laugh as he saw the gesture through the rearview mirror but then locked his eyes back to the car ahead.

  “Got it,” she groaned, backing out.

  She sat on her knees, loading a cartridge into the front of her Fernstall 300. She was surprised Aren packed this weapon. She usually hid it under her bed, which meant he did a lot of snooping through her apartment. Still, she couldn’t be angry. He brought her trace planters. Opening the side window, Aria leaned
out the vehicle and looked down her scope, eyeing the license plate of Camery’s car. She took one shot, and the trace clipped onto the plate, a tiny beep ringing from her weapon.

  “Aren,” she called out, sitting back into the vehicle. “Give me your wrist.”

  Aren awkwardly twisted an arm back toward her. Aria gripped his hand, eyed it, and threw his arm back at him.

  “Other wrist, dumbass,” she spat.

  He reached over his head and showed the woman his wrist that contained his DNAIS. Aria pulled a thin wire from the side of her firearm; a tiny needle poked from the tip, and she plugged it into his chip. Another quiet beep sounded, and Aria detached the weapon from Aren. She pushed against his wrist, pulling up his system, and activated the tracer’s data. A red blinking light oscillated above the man’s hand before she let go.

  “Alright, you can have your arm back.” Making herself comfortable, she returned the weapon to the trunk of the car. “You can back away from them. Keep following, but I don’t want them to be able to detect you. Once we’re out of the city, there’s only one interstate. They’ll be able to see you for miles in this flat landscape.”

  “Roger that,” Aren said, slowing the vehicle as he pulled onto a side ramp that lead to the desolate countryside.

  Away from the silvers and blacks and the flashing vibrant lights of the city, the landscape fell into browns and blues. Wispy, stretching streaks of white stained the sky. The car hummed quietly, its large tires treading against the old pavement, bumping every so often as it pumped over a crack. They traveled for kilometers, for what felt like hours. Aria lounged lazily; her blank stare held to the sunroof above her. Troy fiddled with the GPS system on the screen behind Aren’s chair. The car sputtered, and Aria hoped that they had enough fuel to make it to where they needed to go.