The Dead Planet Series: Exodus (Book 1) Read online



  The Dead Planet Series

  Exodus

  Book 1

  Drew Avera

  Copyright © 2014 by Drew Avera.

  Visit: www.drewavera.wordpress.com

  Prologue

  The year 4412 on Mars:

  Pain was my only friend in this dark laboratory. This labyrinth of hell has held me captive for the last two months. It wasn’t bad at first, mostly physical exertion to the point of exhaustion. I had endured that kind of training growing up playing sports, but this new part of my training was something else entirely. ‘The human mind can only endure so much torture,’ at least that is what they told me coming into this. I wish I had volunteered, at least then I wouldn’t feel as if I were a prisoner being tortured by my guards.

  “Dr. Roblin, how is Prospect Blackwell holding up?” the man in a black Agency uniform said as he walked through the door. I could not see his face but I had heard his voice before, come to think of it I had heard his voice several times throughout my time here. Wherever ‘here’ is, I’m not sure.

  “He is physically a perfect candidate, Agent Gentry. I must confess that I am concerned with his mental capabilities though,” the doctor talked about me like I was a caged animal, unable to think on my own.

  “What capabilities would that be, Dr?” There was an air of concern in the agent’s voice, though I’m not sure why. I would think that the idea of someone who is willing to put up a fight would be an attribute worthy of a member of the Agency.

  “He is not responding well to the reprogramming. Each time we show him a picture of you he becomes discontent, almost as if he is remembering what you did to his father,” Dr. Roblin said. Just the mention of my father brought me back to remembering what had happened. I can only see it in short spans of time, my father dead in the street, Kara crying in my arms, flashing lights surrounding the scene, and finally his face, the man who murdered my father.

  Agent Gentry paced around me; even under heavy sedatives my eyes were able to follow his form. His long, tired face reflected his years of abuse at the hands of the Agency. Now as a prospect I would have the same future in store for me. My eyes closed under the weight of my heavy eyelids. It had been days since I have slept and I could feel every ounce of pressure on my body from the electrodes that stimulated my senses. I decided to close my eyes and listen as the other men spoke.

  “What do you propose we do about that, Dr?” Gentry asked as he turned away from me.

  “Well, many prospects have become valuable agents without receiving one hundred percent of the reprogramming procedure. Given his physical strengths and mental stamina, I would say that he will pass the Agency’s standards with a minimum of seventy five percent of the reprogramming completed. That is purely an estimate, but I will have to conduct further analysis to be sure.”

  “How much of his memory will he retain?”

  “As much as we allow, sir,” Dr. Roblin typed some commands into his computer. I could see the holographic display illuminate his corner of the room as I opened my eyes. “These are the areas of the brain that respond to memory stimuli. Prospect Blackwell is apparently fixated on those memories created within the past twelve months or so. I suspect that the trauma of losing his mother and father in a short period of time has caused these barriers to our programming. I would suggest overriding the safety protocols to ensure a proper reprogramming, but it is risky. If it doesn’t work then we may lose the prospect entirely.”

  “Meaning he will die?”

  “Yes, sir,” the doctor tugged at his collar and swallowed hard. Agent Gentry loomed over the doctor and stared down at the hologram. The blue and green light reflected from his face as he looked back at me. Our eyes met and I could have sworn that I had seen something like remorse in his eyes. I blinked once and the look was gone.

  “If he were to keep these memories, how productive would he be with the Agency?”

  “If we can get to seventy five percent then he will perform above average, sir.”

  “Is there a way that we can target a specific memory that he is attached to?”

  “Which memory do you have in mind, Agent Gentry?”

  Gentry walked in front of me and grabbed my face in his hand. He lifts my head so that our eyes met. I was too afraid to close my eyes as he spoke, “My request is that when you are done with him, I don’t want him to associate my name or my face with the execution of his father.”

  “That is a very specific request, Agent Gentry. At best I may be able to create a cloud over that particular memory. Anything more than that is speculative,” Dr. Roblin typed more commands into the computer as he spoke.

  “Then I suppose that is the best that we can hope for,” Gentry said as he released my face from his grip.

  “Why would you want me to target that particular memory, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “Because I don’t want some rookie agent armed with a gauntlet to have it out for me, that’s why. I have four years until retirement, so I’d like to spend that time without looking over my shoulder. It thought it would be a good idea to put in for a transfer, just to keep things on the safe side,” Gentry said as his communicator buzzed in his pocket. I watched him retrieve it and answer, “Gentry.” He stood silently and held the communicator to his ear. I could see a vein throb on his temple. It was a visible sign of either anger or distress. I had been learning the different signs, but I still was confused by some of the emotions that sparked similar reactions. “Understood,” he said before closing the communicator and shoving it back into his pocket.

  “Another assignment, sir?” Dr. Roblin asked while looking over the computer console.

  “Yes, I’m going to be reporting to Clenist tomorrow, so I’ll be leaving you under the supervision of another agent.” Gentry looked back at me for a moment as I tried to raise my head to meet his gaze. It was futile; I did not have the strength to move at all. “Just see to it that this prospect doesn’t remember who I am, understood?”

  “Yes, sir,” more typed commands emanated from his finger tips as I glared up to see Agent Gentry walk to the door. I could feel the cold fluid of sedative entering my bloodstream through the veins in my arms. I made eye contact with Gentry one last time, and then everything went to black.