Project Ares

My day sucked before the wolves showed up. They surrounded my snowy ditch in the middle of God knows where.

“Oi! Scram you overgrown mutts!” I whacked the nearest snout with a stick. The black wolf whimpered away, but four others encircled me. With my back against a pine tree, I risked a glance around. I’d landed in a valley, pine trees blanketing the depression between two snowy mountains. The wolves showed up within an hour of dragging myself around and searching for help. I had no escape route and a broken leg. The sky darkened into inky black, the temperature dropped every ten minutes, and I was alone. Wonderful.

You brought this on yourself, Samantha, my thoughts taunted. Elysium, my ex-employer, threw me off a helicopter. They’re a self-proclaimed “savior”, a national security agency operating in secret. I’d learned the truth - they thought corrupting the human mind was protection. I was charged with treason for trying to save people. Now here I lay, turning into a giant Milk Bone popsicle.

Another wolf clawed at me and I barely dodged. Hypothermia was slowing me down. Stars twinkled mockingly in the velvety black night. The air was so cold, I was breathing shards of glass. How much time did I have? Minutes probably, and with nowhere to go.

Something whistled nearby. An arrow rattled in the bark two inches above my head. The wolves turned and growled at something. A volley of flaming projectiles launched from the woods. They smoked in front of their paws, causing panic. One wolf fled swiping at a flaming ear. Great, now a fiery archer joined the competition for my doom. The grand prize: bragging rights.

From the shadows, a bulky figure emerged. Black tactical clothing swallowed them into the darkness: cargo pants, a thick parka, and combat boots. A balaclava hid their face. Their attire would have been familiar except for the onyx recurve bow and flaming arrows. I was having a rough day. I didn’t need G.I Death too.

They shot a few more times, enough to scatter the wolves without harming them. I waved my fearsome stick.

“Yeah, you better run, you scruffy pack of clowns!” I shouted. Part of it was anger, most of it was hypothermic delusion. The stranger looked down at me from the edge of the ditch. I noticed they weren’t as big as I thought: a lean muscular frame hidden under the coat’s bulk. Their posture was alert, yet relaxed - unthreatening. Over the balaclava, steely blue eyes analyzed me. I huffed and crossed my arms. “I suppose you’re going to kill me now?”

They laughed. It was soft, melodious, and not assassin-like. I glared at them. If my story ended at the foot of a giant Christmas tree, I would not be mocked. “You’re loud. Broken leg. Hypothermia. I’m your best shot at surviving.”

“And why should I trust you?” I tried to stand, but my leg crumpled. Shock kept the pain away, but I was in rough shape.

The fool jumped into my ditch, picked me up and threw me over their shoulder like a sack of frozen potatoes. I pounded on their back and yelled, but a toddler could have taken me out at this point. “Quiet. You’ll attract more wolves.”

“And who do you think you are, Dark Robin Hood?!” I tried to roll off, but they held me tighter.

“Name’s Blake. Now shut up.” Something jabbed into my thigh and a wave of warmth spread through me. Everything went dark.

I woke up with a migraine. Someone had tucked me into a warm bed, soft blue blankets layered over me. My eyes wandered over the walls of a small log cabin with thick wooden beams and dim lighting. Cozy. At the foot of the bed, a fire danced inside a stone chimney. Books were stacked on the mantelpiece. The window by the fireplace was pitch black — probably the middle of the night. Lanterns and white candles scattered about the floor, radiating an amber glow. On my left was a door to a bathroom. On my right a living room. There was no TV, just an archaic radio on a wooden coffee table, more books, and a brown leather couch.

Past that was a humble kitchen, the walls decorated with pots, pans, and ceramic dinnerware. My captor stirred something on the stove. They had shed the cloak and jacket, leaving them in a black tank top and cargo pants. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, maybe a cousin of Sasquatch. I was not expecting a woman only a few inches taller than me, but much stronger. Her arms and back rippled with muscles. Old scars ran across her shoulders, milky white on tan skin. Golden hair was tucked into a ponytail, leaving her neck exposed. I could see tattoos but couldn’t make out the shapes.

I patted my shirt: a flash drive was still tucked into the inner pocket. I wasn’t dead, tied up, or in a dungeon. I still didn’t trust. My eyes fell on the nightstand to my right. Laying there, with a pen neatly placed on top, was a little black notebook. I didn’t check to see what was in it but chucked it at the stranger’s head. She caught it without looking back. Her laugh filled the room, warmer than the roaring fire.

“You’re awake,” she dropped the notebook and walked over. I shuffled backwards, wincing at the pain in my leg. She held a steaming bowl of something that smelled delicious but was probably poison. Without her balaclava, her features shined in the candlelight. They were fierce, but elegant: high cheekbones and a strong jaw. She smiled easily, and the gesture made her blue eyes sparkle. Around her neck, silver dog tags glinted.

“You kidnapped me.”

“I saved your life.”

“A matter of perspective. What’s in the bowl and, where am I?” she chuckled and offered me the bowl.

“It’s a medicinal soup. To warm you up, hydrate you, and help with the pain,” she pointed at my leg. “As to where you are - about two hours southeast of Blatten, Switzerland.” She met my eyes. Her breathing and voice inflexion were steady. She wasn’t lying. That troubled me. The past couple weeks had been one lie after the other.

My stomach growled and I hesitantly took the food. “How do I know I can trust you?”

She shrugged and sat on the bed. “You don’t, but if I wanted you dead, I could have left you to the wolves, hypothermia, or poisoned you in your sleep.” Wow. Reassuring. I blinked at her.

“Right… fair…”

“Drink,” she insisted. I grumbled but obliged. The soup was delicious. The warm liquid defrosted my limbs and eased the throbbing in my head. “I’m Blake. Blake Woods, in case you don’t remember.”

“I remember,” I pointed at myself, “Samantha Fierro.”

Blake nodded. “So, Sammy-”

“Samantha.”

She winked. “Care to explain how you ended up here?”

I shifted uncomfortably. The silver flash drive in my shirt felt heavy and ice cold. Acquiring the stupid thing had almost killed me. It was a tiny little device, smaller than my pinky, but I was pretty sure it could start a war. The files were heavily redacted, but I managed to salvage enough. Elysium’s secret project: Ares. They said it was the key to protecting humanity, but project Ares removed any sense of humanity.

I looked into Blake’s bright blue eyes. Someone had to stop Elysium, and I was in no condition to do it. “I - I got into some trouble.”

She leaned back on the mattress like we were old friends sharing gossip. “What, did you steal some money?”

“Yeah, $20,000, but that’s not what got me kicked out of a helicopter.” I brought out the silver rectangle and delicately placed it in the space between us. Blake picked it up and gave me a questioning look. “What do you know about nanotechnology?”

I launched into the story. Elysium had been developing a “vaccine” to help soldiers heal faster. I stupidly bought into the idea and lead its creation, but once the chemical structure was laid out - they booted me and my entire team. Elysium took it and restructured it. All the research relating to the vaccine was redacted and zipped into Top Secret files. Part of me regretted decrypting those files. Project Ares was a serum made out of nanotechnology that could dull pain receptors in the brain… but it could block a lot more than that. Ares could block out areas in the brain used for decision making, empathy, critical thinking, and risk assessment. It could virtually hijack the human brain and make it do whatever Elysium pleased. They argued it would be used to help soldiers, but it really turned humans into machines that didn’t question authority and had no regard for human life. It wouldn't help anybody. My guts twisted violently after every sentence. I’d helped create a monster.

As I spoke, Blake didn’t move. Her muscles tensed, her breathing became shallower, and the blue in her eyes faded to a stormy gray. She didn’t interrupt though, just laid motionless with her steely gaze trained on me. I half expected her to take the medicinal soup and whack me over the head with the bowl. Maybe even chuck me back to the wolves. I couldn’t blame her… part of me knew I deserved it. I should have never trusted Elysium, but I’d been deluded by the idealism of helping people in pain. I’d wanted to be a hero. I never would have thought something so benevolent could be weaponized. Humans have a nasty way of corrupting good things.

I finished. Blake sighed and sat up, her eyes seeing through me. “So, you created Ares.”

Her voice was fragile, not accusing. “Not exactly. I created the structure for a serum that altered the brain: dulled pain and improved healing. I - I never thought-” my voice broke under the weight of my actions. The adrenaline from the wolves was gone — I just had guilt.

Blake squeezed my hand. Her gaze softened. “I believe you. You tried to help people. They created a weapon. That’s not on you. I - I know how manipulative Elysium can be…”

“How?” I whispered.

She turned and showed me the tattoo on her neck. Greek letters and roman numerals spelled out Alpha Delta 7. Elysium spec-ops. Blake’s eyes paled with melancholy. “I was part of Project Ares. At least they tried… I kept fighting it. The serum wouldn’t take. In their eyes I was just a failed experiment, so they dropped me off here. I guess they hoped I would die. They never checked,” her smile was more dangerous than flaming arrows.

I stared at my hands. “I’m sorry… I’m glad it didn’t work on you. It - the files I’ve seen…” my vision blurred. The serum broke humans. It turned them into hollow shells of who they used to be, living only to follow orders — it degraded humanity into numbered machines. I blinked back the tears. Blake smiled kindly, which was far more than I deserved. Then she growled.

Blake reached for the back of her neck and pulled something out: a dart the size of my thumb. A clear barrel showed a crimson red serum. Half of the dose remained in the tube, but I recognized the nanobots swirling within the liquid. I created it. My heart shattered like ice.

“Sammy? I think Elysium found us,” Blake passed out and fell into my lap. I screamed. She only got half the dose, but the liquid was all wrong: denser and stickier. They’d made it more potent. I’d have to hope Blake’s humanity was stronger than Elysium’s cruel cleverness. Another dart landed square in my chest.

“Oh, for the love of -” I blacked out.