Page 3 of The Program

He wouldn’t be safe from The Program’s intentions forever. We could never let him discover that part of this life.

It was them that kept me from giving into the despair, from letting the insanity win. They could torture me as much as they liked, but I vowed tocome out stronger for it. At least when they were working on me they were leaving my family alone.

They were unaware of the monster they were forging. Or how one day that monster would break free from its cage and destroy them all.

I latched onto that anger, the desperate need to obliterate the very evil that had sunk its venomous claws into every inch of my being. I would protect him. I would protect her. I would protect the others that had nestled into my heart.

My mental screams ceased, and I wondered if they could see the grin born of maliciousness spreading across my face. It didn’t matter if they did or not. They would see soon enough that they fucked with the wrong bitch.

I couldn’t wait to watch themburn.

???

Something was stabbing at my cheek, a repeated poke that sent sparks of pain rippling from the point of contact. My skin was tingling and whatever it was made the sensation rachet up to burning levels. It wasn’t as bad as I remembered from before, but it was still uncomfortable enough for me to bat it away.

A smack that sounded like skin on skin echoed throughout the room and was quickly followed by a familiar giggle. I forced myself to pry my eyelids open, the crustiness gluing them closed audible as it cracked. A few pieces fell down my cheek and I raised my hand to rub the rest away while my eyes adjusted to the light.

Two sets of matching green eyes gazed down upon me from above, and despite the aches and the buzz of pain still scraping over my skin I smiled. Libby was here, and her beautiful baby boy was reaching those chubby little arms out to me. I sat up, restraining the groan that wanted to escape for Bal’s sake.

Baldr was the name Libby and I had chosen together for her son. It fit the theme we had used when choosing each other’s names. We used the letter within our identification numbers and the history lessons we had come across in our secret studies to choose our names. I chose Liberty, her name a representation of the freedom we sought. She chose Artemis after the ancientGreek goddess to representation our desire for independence and self-reliance, a quality we would need once we escaped The Program to survive.

In that sense we continued the tradition and chose Baldr for her son after the ancient Norse god. He represented the light of a future worth fighting for, the purity of a new life, the joy of creating that life, and the hope for peace that we would fight harder than ever for now that we had him.

My most recent trip to the lab was brought on by my own inability to have children. Libby was already pregnant with her second child, we found out recently, and the scientists were becoming increasingly frustrated with my lack of progress in the breeding program.

The nanites coursing through my veins were causing the scientists far too many issues. From what I’d overheard in my moments of lucidity the microscopic robots that were responsible for my advanced healing had taken the two-solar reprieve to adapt. Those adaptations made it impossible for the scientists to reprogram them, and they even failed to shut them down.

They had gone rogue, and no one knew what to do about it.

Unfortunately for me, that meant they were performing more and more tests, which left me in my current mess. Since I now healed almost immediately from any injury, they were unable to implant anything else inside of me. My tissues would simply close around the surgical instruments before they could do more than cut into me. So they came up with a new method of upgrading me without needing to cut into me.

Tattoos.

They marked my skin with a special ink they created that contained miniscule copies of their larger inventions. They were much like the nanites. Each tattoo contained millions if not billions of the little robots, and they all contained different programming.

The tattoo on my right arm was the smallest, but by no means the simplest, changing colour to denote a certain need my body required. This was the one the scientists used to determine what to do with me next, and also the one they'd spent any time designing. A cog surrounding a strand of DNA, it was The Program's logo. A physical representation of genetic engineering, though they passed it off as 'medical enhancements'.

All I saw was a their brand on my skin.

The tattoo they just completed was the largest, encompassing my entire body in a single line. Starting from my scalp, it ran down my face, my neck, over my shoulder and arms, rounding every finger. It continued down my sides and over my legs, dipping into the crevices in my toes and up the other side to reconnect at the starting point on my head.

It was unclear what function this one would perform, but in this moment I couldn’t care. The burn had been so intense it was impossible to focus on anything else. I didn’t know how long I had been feeling the effects, but it seemed the nanites inside me were fighting against the new nanites embedded deep into my skin. Even now, despite the pain at a more manageable level, I was still feeling the effects.

‘Gimme,’ I demanded, reaching out for Bal. Libby assessed my ability to hold him safely before finally handing him over, and he clung to me as soon as she did. He may not have been my own child, but this little boy had become my whole world.Ourwhole world.

He nuzzled his head under my chin and I tucked him under further. Pressing my nose against the crown of his head, I inhaled his sweet baby scent and immediately felt better. Yes, the pain was still present, but it no longer mattered with my sweet boy in my arms.

‘An’ie A,’ he spoke into my neck. Only one solar old, his speech was coming along well, but still wasn’t quite there yet. Either way, I loved the way he butchered my name. Auntie A was a name I never dared to believe I would or could be called, but it was now my favourite.

‘Yes, Bal?’

‘Owie?’

‘No, baby. I’m okay. No more owie.’

I met Libby’s heartbroken eyes over his head as he snuggled in even deeper. I was sure my own eyes expressed a similar heartbreak. Baldr shouldn’t have to live this life, locked away in a concrete and metal prison with evil scientists, watching his loved ones constantly get taken away only to come back unconscious, in pain, and physically different. One time they hadn’t bothered to wash the blood off of my skin before returning me to our room and he’d started using it to paint with his finger.

Libby and I cried in each other’s arms after he’d gone to sleep that night. We didn’t have to speak it out loud to understand that plans were alreadybeing put into motion for our escape. This time we wouldn’t have the guards to help us, but we didn’t need them. The Program was becoming complacent again now that I’d been back for an entire solar. They believed they had even more leverage over me to keep me obedient, but in reality they’ve just added more incentive for us to leave.

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