#infinitygame

She kept screaming for several seconds before the peaceful serenity of the scene before her drew her back. A perfect clear ocean bathed rocky outcroppings in the bay below her, and cool wet grass tickled between the toes of her bare feet.  She wore a thin, comfortable white tunic that blew in the gentle breeze off the clifftop where she stood.  With a swallow she asked, “How long have I been out?”

“YOUR DATE OF LAST SENTIENCE WAS SEVENTEEN DAYS, SIX HOURS, THIRTEEN MINUTES AGO.”

“The mission?”

“OPERATION CYCLOS RESULTED IN FAILURE.  78% OF STRIKE FORCE NYANCAT REPORTED AS CASUALTIES.”

78%?  How had that happened on her watch?  She’d led them all right into an ambush.  “How’s Aeson?”

“PRIVATE AESON’S CUBE REPORTED AS DESTROYED.  HE WAS RESURRECTED FROM A BACKUP COPY SIX DAYS AGO.”

In the distance seagulls called out.  Cassandra clenched her fist.  “How long before I can get back to the front?”

“ERROR.  LIEUTENANT CASSANDRA WILL NOT BE REACTIVATED AS PART OF THE STEEL PHALANX.  PERFORMANCE DURING OPERATION CYCLOS WAS DEEMED SUBSATISFACTORY.  LIEUTENANT CASSANDRA HAS BEEN TRANSFERRED TO THE OPERATIONS SUBSECTION UNDER COMMAND OF ASURA 117.”

Cassandra stared aghast at the peaceful sea before her, “Wait, what do you mean?  The OSS?  I’m a Myrmidon!  I’m made to fight aliens, not track down rogue programmers!  I’m a soldier, not a cop!  You can’t do this!”

“ERROR.  I CAN DO THIS.  I HAVE ALREADY DONE THIS.  PLEASE PREPARE FOR RESURRECTION PROCESS.  ENJOY YOUR STAY ON NEO TERRA.  WITH DILIGENCE YOU CAN RETURN TO YOUR FORMER POSITION.”

Suddenly instead of the temperate Mediterranean climate Cassandra was wracked with cold and goosebumps rose up across her whole body.  She tried to protest once more, but something wet and thick caught in her throat.  She heaved, gagged, then lurched forward and vomited up a mixture of nutrients and preservatives.  Her bare knees hit the cold tiles and she lurched forward, expelling another batch of pink goo that smelled of antiseptic.

“You know, I never get tired of seeing you Myrmidons.  I work with a lot of bodies, but you guys are really top of the line.  The musculature is perfect.  You guys are sculpted like Greek gods.”  A young man stood in front of her in a pristine white labcoat.  The room was small, intimate even, with just the man, herself and a cold storage cube.

“Clothes,” she managed to cough out, pushing herself back up onto her feet.  “And water.”

The man whistled, then shook his head, “You really are something.  You’re almost entirely human, even down to the tiniest details.  Can you guys have kids?  I don’t know the full specs, it’s all proprietary information, I know, but you’ve got all the parts, just wondering if they’re functional.”

She turned her eyes to him and growled, “Clothes.  Water. Now.”

The feral anger, barely restrained in her voice finally caught his attention, and he nodded.  “Yes yes, of course!  Sorry, just admiring the craftsmanship.  What I wouldn’t give to be inside one of you.”  He left the room, apparently to get her clothes, and she wished she she’d also asked for a blade.  Admiring the craftsmanship indeed.  She wondered how he’d be able to do that without any eyes.

Grunting, she rose to her full height, then rubbed her face.  This was all her fault.  This whole experience.  She should have known the Morats would have set up an ambush.  She should have been prepared for it.  And now, due to her incompetence as a leader she was relegated to cop work under the command of some Asura who didn’t even have a name. Light years from the front, being leered at by lab techs, what more could she expect?  Then she caught a glimpse of her hair, long, thick and wet, hanging just inside her peripheral vision, and she snatched at it to take a closer look.