“Question me again and you'll run for an hour straight. See you around, girls.” Mia strode from the room, the door shutting behind her.
“What have we gotten ourselves into?” I breathed.
“I'm not sure yet.” Kitten fell onto one of the beds. “If I figure it out, I'll let you know.”
7
Page one of the A.I.R. Trainee manual
Dear A.I.R. trainee,
Half of you will be sent home before the end of the first month, your memories wiped. Another half will be sent home the second month. For now, you're here. Forget everything you've heard about A.I.R. Forget every “self-defense” move you've learned. Basically, forget everything the outside world has taught you. It means nothing here. Less than nothing, actually, because what you think you know will get you killed in this new world.
Thereal world.
Does that scare you? If not, you're stupid. You don't yet have the necessary skills to protect yourself from the elusive enemy that walks—and hunts—among us. Hopefully by the end of this year-long training program you will. Here you will fight with your hands, with your mind, with every weapon imaginable, and even some that aren't.
You will become a deadly weapon.
Will you be allowed to kill and strike indiscriminately? No. An A.I.R. agent's job is to find and stop the aliens who are predatory, destructive. But only those. The rest you will leave alone.
A.I.R. was formed to protect humans. That, more than anything, is our job.
You were chosen for this program because you have demonstrated potential, bravery, and the right temperament. Which means the rest of the world already finds you too wild, too undisciplined, and too violent.
Even though we admire those qualities, do not make the mistake of thinking you will be unfettered here. You'll endure more rules and regulations than ever before—and you will obey them, probably for the first time in your life. If not, you will be punished severely.
Pray you never find out what I mean by that.
Let us begin with a few of the abovementioned rules.
1. Do not attempt to leave the building without permission.
2. Girls do not enter the boys' barracks and boys do not enter the girls'. No exceptions.
3. Relationships between trainees and trainers are prohibited. You are legally an adult, yes, but you will not date or have any type of sexual relationship with the instructors.
4. Do not use drugs. This includes: Onadyn in all its incarnations: Snow Angels, Breathless, Nose Candy, Puffs, and Flyers. All forms of cocaine, the White Pony, Whiz, Liquid Gold, Rush, Iron Brew, Jellies, Vallies, Chronic, Dragon Rocks, Doves, X, marijuana, or any other upper, dower, mixed, blended powder, liquid, or puffer not mentioned that will impair your judgment in any way. If you get sick, go to the clinic here. Do not self-medicate.
5. Do not be late to class for any reason.
We operate on a strike-three basis. Break one rule, you will be punished—severely as I mentioned above. Break two rules, you will be punished. Once again, the punishment will be severe. But if you break three rules, your memory will be wiped and you will be returned home.
And know this, if you break a rule you will be caught. My eyes are everywhere.
Good luck and welcome.
Boss
Page two
The map. (Or rather, maze.) Building after building, all connected through intricate hallways and more hallways. There were classrooms, barracks for both boys and girls, two Commons, many restricted areas, a gym, a weapons room, an interrogation room (just the thought made my stomach hurt), and an observation room.
Page three
Things to do in your spare time:
Exercise. Stamina is important.
Study your notes from class. A sharp mind is important.
Practice handling your pyre-gun. A steady hand is important. Be careful not to shoot your teammates.
Practice sparring. Being able to take down an opponent is important.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. Those were the things we should do with our spare time? Interesting that they didn't mention slapping each other around or knifing each other while we slept. Hurting and killing were important. Right?
Groaning, I flipped the page.
Page four
Classes you will attend over the next year:
Alien anatomy
Alien biology
Weapons of the world—and otherworlds
Combat
Alien history and sociology
Breaking and entering
The art of stalking
Alien races and relations
Global governments
Interrogation
Computer sciences
With a weary sigh, I put the manual aside and lay down. “Lights out,” I muttered. Instantly the light on my side of the room dimmed, throwing the room into pitch black. Most of the day had wasted away, anyway, and Kitten was already asleep. She and I had talked for hours, getting to know each other better. The more I learned about her, the more I liked.
She was playful, witty, and loyal. She came from a big family and I could see the affection in her eyes every time she mentioned her sisters and brothers. If they needed her, she'd do anything and everything to get to them.
I was a little envious. I'd always wanted a sister, but my mom hadn't remarried or even dated since my dad left. She worked and took care of me, and that was about it. Maybe my dad had had another kid with his new wife. I could very well have a sister or brother I didn't know about. Since leaving us, he hadn't even called.
A sharp pain tore through me with the thought.
Just go to sleep. For the next few hours, I tossed and turned, unable to settle. I was wearing unfamiliar clothes, stiff and a little snug. The mattress was firmer than mine at home, and the blanket lacked the fresh smell I was used to. The room was too dark, the only hint of light coming from the wall clock. I could hear Kitten's soft exhalations and purrs.
My mind raced as pieces of the “welcome” letter in the manual continually took center stage. If I broke three rules, my memory would be wiped. How much of my memory, though? Everything or just camp? Everything might not be such a bad thing. I thought I might like starting from scratch, with nothing of the past to taint my thoughts.
Still. I hadn't known something like that was possible.
I'd decided to stay here for now. But I didn't like rules—never had—and didn't like the thought of being so constrained. And so…punished if I failed.
I expelled a deep sigh and forced myself to think of anything other than A.I.R. Of course, my mom was the first thing that popped into my head. What was she dreaming of just then? Did she even miss me?
When I was a little girl, she'd held me close and sung me to sleep every night. She'd baked me breakfast every morning, smiling all the while. She'd been so happy. So carefree. Then my dad had left. Then I started doing drugs. All her happiness seemed to vanish. All the cares of the world seemed to settle on her shoulders.