The heavy thuds of mounted rail cannon shook his arms as he fired at the massive alien Kaiju bearing down on their position. The enemy didn’t have many of these things and typically deployed them sparingly. He was just a grunt, so he didn’t know why they were going after this base so hard, but he knew he had to hold. He held onto the autocannon raking the beast with the rods of heavy metal ripping out of his weapon.

He saw when the beast came swiping down towards his emplacement, and he focused his fire on the massive claw. But it was in vain as he and the soldiers at his side were swept away like toys. Death was not instantaneous as he was left half-crushed beneath rubble and broken machinery. His combat suit tried to keep him alive as he flickered in and out of consciousness. The wounds inflicted from the swipe of the creature were too great though, and he slowly bled out before finally giving in to the sweet embrace of death.

Hephaestus

Rahul was sitting on a bare-metal folding chair, he had been waiting to enter the stage for a debate, but the opposition had dropped out of the race last minute. All of his preparation for the night had gone to waste. It wasn’t the first suspicious thing to happen in this race for Governor, every single individual he had debated publically had dropped from the race after, and almost all of them had publicly endorsed his candidacy.

Rahul had already interrogated Commander Walsh about any dirty dealings he might have made, but the man had protested his innocence. As far as Rahul could tell, the man wasn’t hiding anything. He had probed the colony’s computer networks as well as he could to find any evidence of the election being rigged in his favor. He didn’t have the tools he did in the military, but he had his skills and memory, so he was able to do a thorough job of investigating.

His investigations, however, had turned up no evidence of wrongdoing. Though he had found a few interesting things, including a newly established research center. It was apparently a branch office for one of the projects from The Avalon. He hadn’t been able to figure out what they were doing. He had figured out that the classification level was just short of the highest level, and that alone had set off alarm bells. Not that it mattered at the moment. He was more concerned with figuring out why he was winning this election so easily.

Everything he could dig up indicated he was winning on pure merit, but he genuinely didn’t understand why. How could these people so readily put their faith in him?

He activated his implant. It was much more limited in capability now that he’d left the military, but it was still useful. He pulled up a few chatrooms that were known for their political talk and browsed to see what people were talking about. Not like he had anything better to do while he waited for the event staff to sort through the mess that was tonight.

The feeds scrolled by at a decent pace, but he was able to pick up the general tone of how people were feeling about tonight. Apparently, more than a few individuals were currently claiming the bounty of bets they had placed on Rahul’s opponent resigning from the race before the debate. As always, the same conclusion screamed at him that the people genuinely liked him and thought he was right for the job.

Rahul checked to see who else was in the running for Governor at this point, and only two were left aside from him. Both were individuals who refused to debate him. They had both given different reasons, but it didn’t really matter much to him at this point. Another poll would be conducted tonight, he imagined. It was only eight more days until votes would be cast, so this last poll would almost certainly reflect who would be winning this election. All he had to do was keep his appointments over the next few days.

Rahul had hired a secretary and a few helpers to keep everything sorted out and make sure he showed up where he needed to when he needed to. It had been immensely helpful in organizing his campaign. He’d even had one of them working full time just on making adverts for the campaign. At this point, the need for that had slowed down, but it had been very helpful. His polling numbers had shot up after he’d implemented that.

He knew his efforts were all the bare minimum required to even run a campaign. Which is why he was so confused as to why he was winning so easily. Commander Walsh’s running theory was that since this colony had initially been a corporate colony, it had never had more than a token government. And that government had never been too keen on running anything resembling an actual election. This meant that even basic campaign strategies would be more effective than usual.

Rahul acknowledged that Walsh was almost certainly at least partially right. He wasn’t convinced that was the whole of it, but it wouldn’t do to brood about it incessantly. He had a campaign to run, speeches to make, babies to kiss, and pictures to pose for. If he wanted to make sure he was going to win, he would have to give it his all. He got up and moved to talk to an event organizer. He could at least take the opportunity to make a speech of some variety.

***

Bridget knew why her interview had been so strange and unorthodox now. There was no way for anyone who worked for this lab to maintain their sanity for long. Everything had been fine when she started. They’d put her in charge of producing and fine-tuning the composition of the giant vats of nutrient solution. It was pretty similar in concept to the stuff used in hydroponics, but Bridget was smart enough to figure out they were using it for something much different.

She didn’t have to wait for long to find out since as soon as she cleared the checks for the necessary security clearance, Doctor McKay brought her into the top-secret parts of the lab. She vomited when she saw the first subject try to emerge from the nutrient bath she’d helped to create. The skin fell off of what she knew was supposed to be human but looked anything but. Nerve endings were growing at an uncontrolled rate and had begun to wrap themselves over the muscles. And the screams, gargled horrific screams, emerged from the raw, barely formed vocal cords of the monster that the scientists had grown.

Doctor McKay took her to a nearby washroom so that she could clean herself up. When she emerged, her body felt shaky and weak, but she was upright. She managed to croak out a single word, “Why?”

Doctor McKay looked at her in stony silence for long moments before answering. Bridget could sense that her worthiness was being judged, and her reaction to the Doctor’s next few words would be paramount. Finally, he spoke, “There was once a man with the name of Surina, and he had a saying, ‘Towards Perfection.’ And he meant it, his research was buried, deemed unethical and monstrous though the governments of the time happily utilized the fruits of his work.”

Doctor McKay paused for a moment before continuing, “First on The Avalon and now here on Hephaestus, Doctor Voinovich seeks to carry on his noble work. Why do we do this you ask? To carry on towards perfection as Surina once did.”

Bridget considered for a moment. The words fell upon her and weighed upon her as if they were stones hanging by a rope from her neck. In spite of it, she rose up, back straight and head held high. “Towards Perfection,” was the only reply she could think to give. After all, who could resist the opportunity to work on a project that could redefine humanity so utterly?

Bridget never again saw anything quite as horrifying as she did that first day in the back of the lab. However, that did not mean her work was pleasant. She had been particularly mortified when asked to draw blood from the alien they apparently just kept around. It had been captured when the invading fleet had been stopped by the now famous Rahul. She had gritted her teeth and drawn the blood, though she was unnerved by it.

After all, who wouldn’t be unnerved by something that had the face of a spider, the physique of a professional body-builder, too many limbs, and to top it off, had scales not unlike what you might imagine a dragon from the ancient fantasies would have. It was an intimidating sight, to say the least. Thankfully at this point, it was kept in a permanent coma after it tried to kill itself too many times, which made life easier for Bridget.

And so she went about her work. She was at least aware of the aim of the work now. They were creating Super Soldiers or at least attempting to. There was something the enemy had access to that they didn’t, a way of perceiving and interacting with the universe that they were attempting to unlock. The hope was that this, combined with a battery of other genetic enhancements, would produce an unparalleled generation of humans. But their work was far from complete, and from what Bridget had heard, they had created thousands of failures by this point.

Still, the work continued on. Bridget was primarily in charge of preparing the vats in which they grew the clones they worked on. They weren’t exactly clones by the standard definition, but it was close enough. They based the majority of the genetics off of one human and worked in others as needed. Combine that with some extra modifications, and you end up with a ‘clone.’ Not that Bridget did any of that work. She had enough training to help out with basic lab work, but that was about it, so she ended up with a lot of grunt jobs. Not that she minded overly, it was worthwhile work, and someone had to do it.

She was getting a lot of opportunities to learn as well. It turned out that if you ask questions and listen, people will just tell you things. Who would’ve thought? She combined that trickle of knowledge during the day with studying at night. With any luck, she might get to do some of the more complex work before the experiment ended. At worst, she would have good qualifications to move on to another project.

Her parents worried, of course. She worked all day and then came back home and studied all night. They tried to get her to go out and socialize, and she did now and again. Rest was good, and the breaks every now and again served to keep her fresh, but they were just that. Breaks from the rhythm of work that had become her life. She wasn’t unhappy about it, though. Far from it, she relished the opportunity to dive into a field as complex as genetics. The challenge fueled her, and she tore through the available knowledge.

It was a good thing she did, too, because one day Doctor Voinovich actually left his office. He rarely did so, preferring to review data and give directives from seclusion. It made sense to a point seeing as he also reviewed data from The Avalon lab that he’d left behind to come here. Bridget wondered what made Hephaestus so special that he’d come here, but she’d long ago dismissed the thought. Though it came thundering back into her mind along with a million other thoughts as panic seized her muscles when she saw the man.

She recognized him instantly. She’d heard enough descriptions. He was rail-thin with a face that was so pale and gaunt as to be almost see through. She could see the individual blood vessels pulsing beneath his skin as his sunken eyes scanned the room and narrowed when they fell upon her. “You, name, now,” he demanded.

“Bridget O’Brien,” came the quick reply. Bridget had squeaked slightly as she said it, but at least she hadn’t stammered and eaten her words as they tried to fly from her mouth.

The Doctor snorted slightly, though it was hard to tell if it was from amusement or derision. “I see. I have not seen your name attached to any reports. What is it that you’ve been hired to do here?” he asked. His tone was hostile, but underneath it, Bridget could detect a layer of sincere curiosity. Or at least she hoped she did.

“I’ve primarily been doing grunt work like preparing the vats. When I’m not doing that, I’m typically helping run tests in the lab. I’ve been doing my best to learn about what we’re doing here so I can be more helpful in the future.” She added in that last line to try and spur his curiosity. If she could show off her drive to the man in charge, then maybe, just maybe, she could get some actual research related work. Even if it was something relatively simple.

“Hrmph,” came the reply as he strode through the lab, checking this and that. After a few minutes, he looked up. Bridget had returned to her work in the meanwhile and was organizing and cataloging a batch of new samples that had recently come in.

Bridget noticed him watching her work and, more importantly, making no attempts to hide the fact. He was, if nothing else, rather direct. Bridget could appreciate that and continued on with her work as she usually would. As she was moving to put away the new samples, Doctor Voinovich motioned his hand for her to stop and moved over.

Bridget stood aside as he went over her work, giving an occasional grunt of approval. Then he selected one of the samples from the tray. “Mark this sample as broken in transport for me, would you?”

Bridget nodded, “of course Doctor, is there anything else you need?”

Doctor Voinovich turned his attention away from the tissue sample and stared at her for a few very long moments. “Yes, don’t tell anyone about our conversation or that I took this sample. If you can do that for me I might have some real work for you in the future.”

Bridget struggled to control her face as her thoughts raced and her guts began to do cartwheels. “Of course, Doctor, anything you need.”

Doctor Voinovich nodded and pocketed the sample before exiting the lab, leaving Bridget alone once more. She had no idea what that had been about, but if keeping her mouth shut got her a chance to do something more than grunt work, then she wouldn’t make a single peep.

Bridget then got on to her next task for Doctor Voinovich and quickly altered the inventory database marking the sample he’d taken as damaged in shipment. She noted the sample was for a soldier named Gustav Noba Whittaker, a native of Hephaestus. Apparently, he was already listed as killed in action. Not that that was unusual for the samples they worked with, seeing as all of their samples came from either dead soldiers or volunteers. She was just glad she hadn’t bothered to sign up with the fleet if folks who had signed up were already dying only a few months into service.

Regardless of what had happened to Gustav, perhaps he would have a chance to live on through the work they were doing at this facility. It wasn’t the best lot one could hope for, but it was better than nothing, she supposed. She shuddered, remembering that her own DNA was at the mercy of the lab as well. It had been part of her employment contract, but she still thought it was worth it.

As far as Bridget knew, her own samples hadn’t been touched, but the thought of one of the clones being, effectively, one of her children was still a bit unsettling. Bridget shook off the thought quickly and did what she always did when she had unpleasant thoughts. She dove back into her work.