Pursuit

1***#23

They said it wouldn't hurt. They said I couldn't even squeeze their hands. They told me that I was supposed to be strong and not cry. It's difficult not to cry when ten different needles are being jabbed into the same soft skin in the crease of your arm repeatedly within ten minutes. I held the cries in, for I knew what punishment was to them, and how they executed it. I have been here for ten years, ever since I was born. They never really told me where I came from, and whenever I asked all I got was 'the Lab'. I wasn't sure if this was the truth, or just a programmed answer. Whatever it was, it didn't affect the pain I was feeling know, underneath the bright lights of the operating table. 

It was cold, and piercing, and violently repulsive. I wanted to scream so loudly, I wanted to tell them to stop, yank the pipes and needles out of my body. I don't want to know what they're trying to accomplish. And as quickly as it came, the pain ended and I drifted off into the peacefulness of unconsciousness. 

-

7 years later

My eyes blinked open to a grey room, with grey walls, a grey bed, and grey floors. Everything was so bland that it just blended all together. Yawning, I swung my legs over and out of the blankets, and placed them on the cold, hard floor. Arching my back, I heard all the bones crack in protest. I rubbed my eyes with the sleeve of my shirt, letting out a sharp exhale. The lights in the ceiling were still turned off, meaning that I was up a little too early. They turned them off at approximately 9:00 and turned them back on at 6:00, which is when I began testing. 

After sitting down and rolling my neck for a bit, I decided to stand up and get dressed for the day. My sense of time was superior, so I knew that in three, two, one- there it is. The pile of clothes being dropped through the flap of my door. With a flick of my hand I made the bed, and another flick to bring the clothes closer to me. Some of my abilities cam quick to me, like the telekinesis stuff, but some took more concentration. I pushed my bleached hair out of my eyes and began to undress myself. Standing in only my undershorts, I faced the mirror. The mirror that they made so I couldn't break and almost kill myself... again at least. I was scrawny, pale, and hairless. An experiment. I couldn't help but feel rebellious against their ways, despite the Lab being my only life I had ever known. 

Now wasn't the time to dwell on the inevitable, now was the time to get dressed and be ready for testing. Then training. Then lunch. Then schooling. Then dinner. Then pills. Then medically induced sleep. What a day. 

"Number 23!" a harsh voice barked outside my door. Dr. Wessler. "Be prepared to leave your room in five!"

"Yes sir!" I shouted back, rolling my eyes. I pulled the white cotton shirt and linen pants over my frail body and slid on the unattractive slippers. Even though all they called me was #23, I yearned for a real name, like Dr. Wessler and Miss Piper, my tutor. The only names I knew were the ones spoken here, and I never wanted a name like that. I wanted something nice, that would roll off your tongue, or dance in the back of your mouth then push its way out. Never a quick and sharp one. Despite all of these yearnings, I knew nothing of names. I had tried forming letters together to make one, but nothing worked. Oopleg. Keffquir. Meesh. Nothing sounded... me. 

Today was starting off simple enough, though, with Wessler's yelling and my strange premonitions about life. After a loud click, the door popped open, allowing me to escape from all those grey walls. The grey hallway wasn't too much of an upgrade, honestly. 

I let my fingers run against the wall as I trudged towards the testing room, prepared to be faced with needles and the machine I call 'The Head X-Ray' which made them see everything I thought, and everything that went on inside my head. But none of that came. In fact, when I opened the door, all I was met with was an empty room. 

"Am I... in the wrong room?" I asked out loud. 

"Constant number 23, number 39, and number 42, please report to the main station." A robotic voice boomed over the room. Back to the hallway it was. I wondered what they were up to this time, a break in the system after this long must have an extensive history behind it. My feet hit the tiled floor with soft thuds, the thinness of the slippers making me feet cold. Or maybe it was the fear. 

I hadn't been to the main station since I was 13, so I had to backtrack a few times. The last time I had been there was when they gave me a speech about puberty and boners and weird thoughts. They showed me graphs and and strange pictures. Then, they injected me with a serum that would chase all those weird thoughts away. That day was really weird, and when I made it back to my room, my roommate asked me if they showed me the strange presentation too. I later learned he didn't receive the serum because he fought. Three days later, all of his things were gone.

I took a left into a chamber, then right into one of the openings. The door to the main station was open and I saw people standing inside. Entering the room, my mind surveyed everyone and took their height, age, and weight. The boy I knew as #39: 5'11", 17, 126 pounds. A short kid with dark spiky hair and dark green eyes, who must be #42: 5', 15, 115. Two tall men stood facing me, but they were blocked from me, as all Lab workers were. Two doors were closed at the end of the room, and it was empty minus the people and a dark grey machine in the corner. 

"Number 23, sir, reporting," I stated calmly, standing in between the two other kids. The tall man to the right scanned all of our wrists, the one with the barcode on it. 

"All here," he muttering into his headset. As soon as he spoke, both of the doors swung open and people I had never seen before filed in. New people weren't just rare, they were extinct. No one had entered the Lab in... well, as long as I've been here. 

A voice began speaking as the people lined up in front of us, behind the two men. "As you all know, the Lab is devoted to it's experiment and their wellbeing. We always have and we will continue to do so, as long as we are treated in the same respects. In order to procure the most definite results, we have decided to introduce you to the Variables. The Variables are a variety of collected pieces, gathered from Labs around the world. They are here to interact with you, number 23, number 42 and number 39, the Constants. Your first test, choose the right ones. Your assessment begins... now."

The Lab has played games like this before, and I had won. I wasn't up for losing. Quickly, before my companion Constants could even move, I weaved in and out of the crowd that had now formed. Each of the Variables had a number attached to the front of their shirts. There were men, women, and everything in between, all ages, races and it seems, value. I stopped in front of a tall man with blue eyes and quickly scanned him. He came up clear, but I didn't like the way he stood, so I moved on. 

The next one I came upon was an old woman who piqued my interest because of her hair. It was grey, but parts of it were blue under the florescent lights of the main station. I paused for a moment in front of her, decided she wasn't it and moved on. By now, #42 had zipped around the entire room, his eyes wide in speculation and intelligence. I liked him, he was a fighter. But #39 had a different approach. He hadn't moved and inch, he only searched the crowd with his eyes. He had longer curly hair that was pushed back and dark brown eyes that were keen. I realized that he may have the right approach, so I skirted the edge of the group and stood in the front. 

The numbers! Why hadn't I thought of the numbers? Quickly scanning over all of them, I stored them in my head in the sequence they were standing. 

  0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 6, 8, 13, 21, 25, 34, 37

Why would there be two 1's? And a zero? 

"Think, 23, think." I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth. One of them had to stand out... or two.... or- 

"I want Variable #25," number 42 spoke up, standing next to one with short blond hair. He had it figured out why couldn't I? Then I remembered a sequence from my math class. 0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34. 6, 25, and 37 stood out. 25 was taken and I quickly looked for 6 and 37. 6 was a boy around my age with dark hair and the most warm eyes. 37 was an older guy, short with salt and pepper hair. 

My voice rang out clear and strong. "I want Variable number 6."