William jiggled the packet in his coat pocket. Knowing that he had some pills with him both soothed his nerves and exacerbated his cravings. The hooks chittered behind his eyes, hungry and impatient. Soon, he told himself. One to calm his nerves wouldn’t hurt. He could still work with a little buzz. William glanced upwards from his corner of the lab. Yelich was watching him like a hawk, even as the technicians hooked the dead clone up to the tether of nerves. They wore hazmat suits as they worked, carful of the wriggling red tentacles touching exposed skin. They had lost a young tech in the beginning that way, back when they were still learning how to control the Goose. Connor’s over sensitive ability had turned the boy into another clone before they knew what was happening. William had his suspicions that they had let it happen, just to see what Connor could do when unchecked. Just another footnote in the long list of experiments.

The nerves found the entry port and slithered in, dragging the footlong metal tether with them. The techs stood back. The monitoring equipment attached to the clone beeped as a pulse formed. Soon the pale skin flushed back to a healthy tone. The raw nutrients attached via intravenous bags started to pump as the once dead body started to heal. William couldn’t help but gag as he witnessed the ragged headwound glisten with a fresh supply of fluid.

“A couple of hours and this one will be back online,” said one of the techs after leaning in to inspect the healing wound. “Will need a top up, just like the others,” he added, pointing to the I.V bags.

William shivered. Surely it was time for a break. Maybe he could ditch the old man for ten minutes, grab a coffee and down a pill. That would set him right. That and ten hours of uninterrupted sleep.

“We done?” he asked the room.

Yelich gave a dry murmur that was his version of a laugh. “There’s dozens more to do, boy. Don’t tell me you want to go home already?”

William stared back at the old man, too tired and hungover to voice his displeasure. Yelich smiled back at him.

“Next,” said the old man, as he shuffled towards the door.

William had had enough bullshit. It was time for a break. If the bastard didn’t want one, he’d make him need one. He extended his mind’s sphere of control, searching for Yelich’s thoughts. The workings of the lab technicians and the bio-engineers brains flooded into his own, their feelings and surface memories open like a book for him to read. Yelich’s thoughts slipped through his own like water, unreadable and intangible.

“Are you coming?” he asked from the doorway.

William realised he was staring at him like a madman. He retracted his questing mind and placed it fully in his own body. “Yes,” he said.

Yelich shook his head and walked out into the hall. William nodded to himself and chased after the scientist with a striding pace.

“There is something different about you,” he said catching up.

Yelich looked at him. “I was wondering when you would say something.”

William’s anger started to ratchet up. “Were you guys going to tell me at some point?”

Yelich shrugged. “David and I figured you’d find out eventually. He knew you’d be upset. Think it was all about you, as per usual. Thing is… it was… and it wasn’t.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“We had to know that our thoughts were our own. We had to know that we were in control. We couldn’t say with certainty if you had changed something up here without our knowledge,” said Yelich, tapping his skull with a wrinkled finger.

William shook his head, despite knowing he was literally primed to alter Yelich’s thoughts. “I would never dream of it. We’re family. That’s not how I do things,” he lied.

“But what if there was someone like you? We’re still not sure how many slipped our net. How many others are out there right now? What if Paragon found them? Or the Owls?” said Yelich, his tight tone expressing his fears. “What they could do to us!”

“You could have told me the truth.”

“You could have stopped us,” urged Yelich.

“I could have helped!”

Yelich turned to the boy, one hand gripping his shoulder in a familial way. “You have. More than you know. And your time will come soon. Believe me,” he said, giving William the briefest of smiles.

William felt a warmth blossom inside his chest. It meant everything to him, to be recognised. That was all he wanted. That and any kind of human contact. He hadn’t realised how much he had missed it since working here. He raised his hand to touch Yelich’s own, but the scientist turned and kept walking.

“We bust your balls. But only because we know you can take it…”

William grinned at the old man’s back. “Well…”

A Programmed soldier strode down the hall towards the two of them, a hefty, death dealing cannon held in her immense hands. The Pro made the hall seem toy sized by comparison. She stopped in front of Yelich and William, the act almost a calculated slight as she blocked the path completely.

“Sir. Our team has made visual with the target. Do you wish to oversee the mission?”

Yelich craned his head up to look at the soldier’s face. She stared down at him from her overbearing height, her cavernous, predatory eyes meeting his. “I suppose I will. I could do with a little distraction… Care to join me, boy?”

William grunted in response, his mind still reeling from the conversation.

The Pro spun on her heel and stalked down the hall in giant strides without waiting any further. Perhaps she was pissed she wasn’t out there killing like she was built for, thought William.

“It was time for a coffee break, anyway…” muttered Yelich.

The ride up in the lift was uncomfortable in the soldier’s presence. William couldn’t help but stare at the muscled lines of her shoulders and back.

“What version are you?” he asked innocently.

“Me, you bald headed little bug,” snarled the woman in response.

The alarm dinged and the Pro almost leapt out of the tight door as she hastened back to the briefing area. Yelich gave William another quick smile.

“They don’t like that, you know?”

“Like what?”

“They don’t like being reminded of the previous iterations. It makes them feel like machines. The way we talk about different roll outs of operating software. They hate it. Or so I’m told…” said Yelich, his voice almost a whisper. “Maybe they think they’ll be replaced with a newer, better version. They’re right though. The Mark Fours will put the Threes to shame. Still need a little tweaking. Can’t have another de-Programmed debacle on our hands, right?”

William nodded. His abilities stemmed from the defective traits of a Mark Two. He didn’t know how he felt as being labelled a debacle. “Why aren’t you working on them here?”

“Ah… We are taking some of the patents these engineers have made and gearing them up a notch. It’s a whole different kettle of fish, though. It’s more about gene alteration at this juncture. That’s where our boys and girls in Connecticut are crowned supreme. You guys have given them the building blocks. They’re just making the blocks bigger and meaner. For people who are not quite human anymore. The same… but different.”

They had removed the unnecessary staff from the cafeteria, keeping only those with the requisite skills and security clearances for this next grisly part. The lights had been dimmed to accommodate the tactical monitors. The Programmed soldier that had found them ushered Yelich and William into the room before joining a colleague in blocking the hallway. Video feeds from the soldiers in the operation were on display as well as the pilot and gunship. William wasn’t sure what he was looking at, everything seemed to be happening so fast. Lights from cars and lampposts whizzed by in the different feeds, painting a confusing mosaic.

“What’s going on?”

Yelich shushed him and approached the officer in command. “Report.”

The man kept an eye on the video feed as he spoke. “The target is currently Westbound in a stolen Sheriff’s squad car. Our agent on the ground confirms the target has left the station.”

“And the locals? How much do they know?”

“She reported the Sheriff was difficult. Do you want a clean slate?”

Yelich bowed his head as he mulled over the hard question. William’s stomach turned in tight knots as he waited. “Don’t…” he whispered.

“Do it,” said Yelich firmly.

The officer nodded to a comms tech.

“Request of a clean slate, Greene.”

“Understood,” came a radioed response.

“Fuck,” growled William as he paced away from the table.

Yelich shot him an angry look. “And the clone? Can we take him?”

The officer raised a finger, asking for time. “Is there a window?” he asked the tech.

“Operations asks for confirmation of target. Do we have a window?”

William watched the gunship bank out to the right on the video feed. The car they were tracking was highlighted under the sights of what appeared to be the front mounted cannon’s camera.

“Thirty seconds. There is oncoming traffic. Do we have clearance for lethal take down?”

Yelich nodded to the officer.

“Clearance confirmed. Proceed when ready.”

The radio tech relayed the message. William stopped pacing and stood at the back of the cafeteria, his eyes soaking up the various viewpoints of the soldiers and the gunship. From the forward mounted camera, he saw the Christmas lights of a truck heading towards the clone’s car. From the navigator’s helmet he saw the illuminated sign for a mega farm growing genetically altered chickens. Beyond the sign lay a sprawling factory warehouse, its security lighting marking it in the dark landscape. He counted the seconds until the truck passed the speeding car in the opposite direction.

The guns opened up spraying white hot lines of fire at the car. Bullets tore forward, ripping up the road first as the cannons adjusted for the flight path of the pilot. The front half of the car was shredded in an instant, sending chunks of metal and plastic flying. The screens flashed momentarily as the rounds exploded, blinding the video feed. William shielded his eyes as the whole screen lit up, throwing harsh light around the dark room. The thud of the guns stopped their high tempo beat through the speakers. The video feeds adjusted to the brightness, bringing the room back to a comfortable neon glow. The lens on the gun’s camera pulled back, showing how far away the gunship was from the scene. From this view it looked as though they had just blown up a miniature toy, like from one of those vintage Hollywood movies before everything was done digitally.

From one helmet’s view, William witnessed the crippled vehicle roll to an ungraceful stop in the roadside ditch. Flames leapt up from the ruined engine. The gunship pulled a sweeping turn and flew back to the wreckage. The seconds dragged by as every eye in the room ate up the video feed of the burning car, its size growing from a pinprick of light to a roaring blaze of scrap metal as the jet approached.

“Status of target?” asked Yelich.

“Update on target.”

“Standby, control.”

The gunship hovered lower, its multiple jets battering the growing fire and sending out a cloud of dust along the ground.

“Yeah, control, we’re going to send a boy down there to have a look. Fire’s playing havoc with our optics up here.”

“Understood. Keep your presence to a minimum, Chang. Can’t have people witnessing our bird in the area,” said the officer with a calm voice that didn’t show any of the tension the rest of the room was feeling.

“Understood. Will resume altitude post launch.”

“Roberts is away,” reported a different operative.

A Pro leapt from the open bay of the ship, from a distance that would make any normal, sensible person wince in fear. Roberts landed on the ground with the grace of a mountain lion, weapon ready and knees bent.

“Up. Up,” urged Chang.

The gunship climbed back into the sky with a heavy groan from its jets, leaving Roberts to investigate. William bit the knuckle of his thumb as he watched with nervous anticipation. He wanted this whole sordid event to be over. Then he could relax and go home. Nobody else needed to die for Kemprex’s secrets and his mistakes. Long seconds trailed by as the room watched Roberts’ video feed, distorted by the heat and light of the fire.

“Roberts?”

“I don’t see a body. There’s a lot of blood. We must have tagged him. There… There is a trail leading toward that building to the south. Target must have gone that way.”

The officer punched the table once and uttered an impassioned ‘fuck’ before looking at Yelich.

“All in,” said the scientist.

“Get your team on the ground and follow the target,” said the officer.

William’s hand went back to the packet of pills in his coat pocket. He didn’t care anymore. He needed something to take the edge off. Yelich could jump on a unicycle for all he cared right now. Before anyone could reprimand him, the pills were in his mouth.