Departed Innocence

“Take the shot, that’s an order!” The Commander echoed through the earpiece and into the skull of a young Lieutenant. Five seconds, four seconds, three, two— awake, to three holes in the drywall across a stark room. “Vital spike forty percent higher than normal, BPM elevated, do I need to report?” “Stand down Pariah.” Cain interjects as the synthetic lights embedded in his arm fade into the flesh. Copper shell casings still hot to the touch roll across the floor from the shots fired. Silence fills the room followed by a high pitch ringing. Cain stares blankly at the wall as if he were expecting it to move. His stale amber eyes resemble the dim light of a dying firefly. Silence is soon invaded by the shrieks of a dust coated alarm clock which is shut off by the blunt end of his gun. “One more day.” He whispers.

Crossing the boarding station to the hovercraft, Cain provides the drone with his flight pass. “Outpost 713, Far Sector.” The drone replies. The same outpost for the past fifteen years, a monotony that the dead leave and return to. Clock in, clock out, program, reprogram, implant, and test. It was an incessant but mandatory work sentence, one that within twenty-four hours, Cain would be free from. Flying over the metropolis, the view was always breathtaking. One would never know of the contamination of Sodom’s political structure, or the impoverished families selling their children into a war they knew nothing about. Such vibrancy from the dawn of this city’s horizon could erase any idea that the gates of Heaven were a masked purgatory.

The shuttle lands with ease as Cain steps off unloading his bag and looking up to head to his work station for the last time. Neural coding came easy to him, as the combat implants he endured during his youth had been tested over the years for quality assurance. He was one of the lucky ones. A true specimen whose neural link synched flawlessly to Sodom’s child combat program, the perfect killer. Three hundred twenty-five— the number of men, women, and children that have accumulated during Cain’s war tenure. Reasons for termination were all the same. Sleeper agents detected within national borders, defective neural links for programmed children, parents refusing to give up their progeny, and so on. Each face that he would retire began to look like the last, just an amalgamation of empty vessels over the years. Only one face remained, a young girl no older than the age of six with jet-black hair and olive skin. It was her hazel green eyes and the look she gave him that Cain still vividly remembers. He holds on to the memory of that heart shaped locket necklace she held out in her hands, the same one Cain now keeps attached to his bag.

It was a routine retirement operation all those years ago. Not every family was eager to sell their sons or daughters to the government, even for the potentiality of acquiring millions. This family, however, was causing more problems than usual as they were months overdue on their child implant evaluation. None of the family members had been chipped, which was cause to take more forceful measures. “Simple extraction Cain, scan diagnostics for information after retirement then rendezvous back to base, nothing you haven’t done before.” States the Commander over the intercom. Retiring had become a skill for Cain even at the young age of thirteen. So much so that he required no backup units. Upon approaching the house, lay the bodies of a mother and father that had already been retired by the initial drone unit. It was time for Cain to clean up the rest and with the adults out of the way, there was no need to even draw his weapon. Wooden floorboards of the foundation creaked with every step. As Cain continued to move through the house, there she was standing before him in the kitchen.

Most children her age would cry and scream, unaware of what was happening and simply beg for their lives. This girl, however, was still and quiet. It was almost as if she had accepted her fate. This stillness was unsettling for Cain as he reached for his gun gripping the holster. The girl didn’t flinch, just a calm gesture as she began to grab the silver chain around her neck. The frightened Lieutenant immediately drew his weapon, now ready to finish the contract as he had done so many times before. This time however was different, she was not afraid. She began to approach him, hands outstretched as if she wanted to gift Cain with her necklace. He was frozen, what was once an assured assassin was now just another conflicted young boy, victim to the art of war. She slowly continued to advance, her little steps maintained their pace. Cain now began to shake, gripping his gun with both hands to stay locked in on the target and trying to remain stable. “It’s ok, we will all be a family again.” The girl spoke calmly as a tear began to stream down her cheek. Never before had he felt such an overwhelming sense of empathy and terror all at the same time. Cain’s hesitation was a clear sign of his internal struggle, one that had not overcome him since his first contract. “Take the shot, that’s an order!” The Commander screams. Five seconds, four seconds, three, two— awake.