“Enter,” called a raspy voice from inside.
Creed opened the door, stepped inside the room and closed the door behind him before standing at attention. “Creed Young, reporting as requested,” he spoke deliberately in his clipped, formal military tone.
“Greetings, Mr. Young,” the raspy voice chirped. “Please, come in and take a seat. We have business to attend, and there’s no time like the present.”
For the first time, Creed relaxed his stance and glanced at the others in the room, taking note of those in attendance. The table was a large rectangle able to comfortably seat twelve, but fewer than half the seats were occupied. The smallish frame of Dr. Williams was seated at the head of the table. Creed’s eyes lingered only momentarily on the mangled face of the Director only partially hidden behind a black fedora. To his left sat doctors Chaunders and Bjorn. To his right sat his brother.
Inwardly, Creed groaned. This couldn’t be good.
Gavil smiled widely, crystal blue eyes crackling with malevolent humor at the surprise he was sure Creed felt at him being invited to the meeting.
“Can I offer you something to drink, Mr. Young? We’re all having coffee,” the Director asked graciously.
“Yes, sir. Coffee would be fine,” he nodded, trying to tread carefully through what felt like a surreal landmine of hidden social protocols.
“Ivy?” The director called.
“Sir?” A female meta entered the room from what must have been an adjoining office behind Drs. Chaunders and Bjorn.
“Coffee for Mr. Young,” he spoke pleasantly enough, but didn’t bother to grace her with his full attention. Instead, he was scanning the documents in front of him.
“Right away, sir,” Ivy nodded.
Creed wondered why Farrow wasn’t there. She was, after all, the Director’s personal assistant.
The room remained silent as the Director continued to read. Moments later, Ivy arrived with a steaming cup of coffee and carefully placed it in front of Creed before offering him a dish of creamers and sweeteners. Creed politely declined.
He waited silently, black coffee untouched.
The Director finished the last page and looked up expectantly at Creed. The smile he offered was grotesquely bloody. Creed watched him, unflinching.
“It’s been a while, Mr. Young,” he began. “You must forgive my appearance.” He motioned to his own face and watched the metasoldier through weeping eyes.
“While your recovery has been remarkable, I haven’t been as fortunate.” He removed a red handkerchief from the pocket of his three-pieced suit and dabbed at the bloody fluid seeping from his eyes.
“But, enough about me. We’re here to discuss you. Your doctor’s report indicates a phenomenal level of performance. Your skills are far beyond the exceptional abilities you previously demonstrated. They assure me you are completely fit, and ready for duty. Do you agree?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Have you any questions for me before we begin?”
“None, sir.”
“Do you know today’s date?”
The abrupt change in questioning was meant to throw off the soldier, but he wasn’t biting.
“Do I need to?”
“Are you curious?”
“I am only curious about things I am asked to be curious about.”
Dr. Williams stared, unblinking at the soldier.
“Today is May 30th.”
“Yes, sir.” Creed responded with no affect to his voice.
“The Match against your brother here took place in October.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you have any memory of the events that took place during the past six months?”
“No, sir.”
“That doesn’t cause you concern?”
“I am a soldier, sir. I follow orders. If you tell me to be concerned, I will be.”
Dr. Williams nodded slowly and fingered the papers in front of him, thoughtfully.
“You were given an assignment six months ago. You failed the objective of that assignment.”
Creed stared, stone-faced.
The Director continued, “You suffered extensive injuries during that assignment and were brought back here for recovery.”
Again, the words elicited no response from the silent soldier.
“I have to tell you, I was very disappointed in you and seriously considered your termination.”
“Yes, sir.”
“However, you were exposed to a compound during your injuries that piqued my scientific curiosity. So, rather than destroy it along with you, I decided you would better serve our purposes here. The scientists assigned to your care and subsequent observation were able to extract an exciting amount of information locked in your newly altered DNA, Mr. Young.” He paused for effect before reaching under the table and making a show of pushing a button there.