Induction

Teleporting in 3…2…1… Please remain calm and keep your arms inside the terminal!

The screen flashed red once more as Ethan panicked. Surely not two days in a row, right? Ethan felt his stomach turn inside out as the terminal transported him. The last word he saw on the screen was the word 'Error'.

To his surprise, Ethan found himself in the teleporter room of the Alliance base. This time, he managed to keep his breakfast down and walked to the command room where he was to meet Steve and John.

On his way through the hallway, he bumped into Amber who was wearing her usual lab coat and stethoscope.

"Hey, Ethan. Glad you found your way here. Did you have your breakfast sucked out of you as you exited?" she asked with a cheeky grin.

"No… That happened yesterday."

"Oh, so you're probably in the diarrhea phase now..." she accidentally thought out loud.

"What?"

"Nothing," she said hastily with the most genuine smile she could muster. "Oh, by the way. A word of warning: don't use that card on any other terminal other than the one that leads you here, okay?"

"Why?" asked Ethan.

"Because that card forces an error message in the terminal that will 'accidentally' drop you off here. If you use it on any other terminal, it'll drop you somewhere else and the card will disintegrate."

Well, that would've been useful to know when Steve gave it to me.

"Thanks for the heads up!" Ethan shouted as Amber walked down the hallway.

Ethan entered the command center at the far end of the main hallway. The large, automated doors opened as Ethan approached them and revealed a compact room filled with holo-desks used for mission briefings and meeting rooms. At the center was a circular table with Steve and John standing beside it.

"Hey, kid," greeted John. He showed Ethan to a set of elevators at the back of the room.

The elevators were the same model as those in the station. Multi-directional and high speed. As the three men entered the elevator, Steve pressed the button for the lower levels of the Alliance. Ethan felt his chest close in. Three masks popped out from the elevator ceiling. The three men grabbed the masks and attached them to their faces.

"We're going through the seabed now, so the pressure is getting higher. The base underneath is depressurized, but the elevators aren't. We'll just need these masks here," Steve said.

The elevator doors opened and the three left their masks behind. Ethan's eyes widened in awe of the sheer amount of space in the Alliance base. The ceilings were four or five stories high, and the hangar stretched for at least 10 football fields. It felt like the hangar stored an army's worth of supplies and weapons.

The barracks were situated on the second level and housed equipment for every operative in the building. Its elegant design optimized the space it was afforded by housing as many people as possible without feeling cluttered.

"I told you, Ethan," Steve began, noticing Ethan's expression. "The Alliance is a military force before it is a relief organization. You didn't think that tiny bunker was all we had, did you?"

Steve didn't wait for Ethan's response but rather directed him to the main hall. On the front wall hung three flags, each with the Alliance insignia embroidered onto it. The first was a crimson red flag with a neon green border, the second an azure blue flag with jet black highlights, and the third, a more familiar one to Ethan, a snow-white flag lined with gold.

"The Alliance has three regiments in it. The largest regiment, the militia, the covert unit or spy division, and then the one you've met and will be assigned to, the Infiltrators," pointing to the red, blue and white flags respectively.

"You're putting me in an elite squadron? Wouldn't I pull the team down?" asked Ethan.

"Yes, but you'd be safe. The casualty counts in the militia are much higher than in the infiltrators and the spies mostly work alone. This is the safest place for you right now," remarked John. "Come, let me show you to your barracks."

Ethan and John ascended the spiral staircase, their feet clanging on the steps. They shuffled over to the first set of doorways in the corridor that had the Infiltrator's flag carved into the wall above it. John ushered Ethan in. The barracks could have passed for spacious had it not been for the Exo-suits cluttering the left side of the open-plan room. A projector screen used for TV and a kitchen were the only two standout features that Ethan noticed. Each member had an individual station, stocked with their gear, weapons, and compressed Exo-suits. Breach emerged from behind his Exo suit, lifting up his welding mask.

"Have you prepared his Exo?" asked John.

"Yeah. I just finished the maintenance now, Boss," replied Breach as he handed Ethan a cube the size of his palm.

"This is it? How'd you compress it to this size?" asked Ethan, bewildered.

"Oh, no," chuckled Breach. "That's the remote. That's the Exo," he emphasized pointing to the suit of armor sitting behind him. "Go ahead. Power it up. Let's see that beauty come to life!"

Ethan pressed the button on the cube and the Exo's floodlights switched on. The light did not reflect off but was rather absorbed by the jet-black color of the suit making the size of the suit almost invisible at night.

The hydraulic pistons slipped into place. Three streams of compressed air whistled like a kettle as the Exo suit stood up and scanned Ethan. The suit began to expand and contract until it matched his height and waist. Ethan's ears caught a zipping of cables as the grappling hooks tightened and reeled in. A modulated, electronic voice emanated from the speakers on the chest of the suit.

"Recognized: Ethan Rider, Infiltrator. Code: 0005. Test file uploaded for first use. Welcome to The Alliance, Mr. Rider!"

Ethan stared at his reflection in the suit's tinted glass. The elegant suit awaited his entrance as the successful start-up finished its course.

"Well… Hop in!"Breach said motioning to Ethan with an open palm.

He walked behind the suit. An air-burster was attached to the back of it as well as a holster for any weapons he'd carry. The shiny, metallic exterior was comprised of individual scales that constantly moved around the suit.

"I call it moving metal," said Breach. "It's a technology I developed. The problem with rigid designs is it's unchanging. The profile you create can either be one of mobility, or durability. One that gives you an aerodynamic profile or one that makes you air resistant. You can't have both. But if every piece of metal is moving, you can choose how to shape your suit. The only unfortunate weight added to the suit is the lead plating."

"Lead plating?" asked Ethan as he ran his fingers over the metallic vertebrae of the suit.

"We typically operate in the abandoned regions which are always radioactive. It's usually not too bad, but we still need a coating of lead to prevent us from being poisoned. The suit wouldn't be half as heavy as it is now if we removed the lead."

The back of the suit opened up and Ethan stepped inside. The exo-suit contracted to fit his body shape snugly. Ethan shivered as every part of his body felt like it was being poked by a needle. The suit was far from comfortable. He couldn't imagine moving around in this.

"Would it kill you to put some cushions in here?" asked Ethan.

"You're feeling uncomfortable because you're not in your jumpsuit. Nobody gets into an exo-suit in jeans and a t-shirt," Breach laughed. "Just stay in there a little longer. Let the U.I. boot up."

A neon green loading bar appeared in front of Ethan. It morphed into a circle which then scattered across the screen. Several pieces of information filled the edges of the transparent screen in front of him.

The suit greeted Ethan, "Hello, Mr. Rider."

"Uh… Hi?"

"Thank you for responding. That is the first time anyone has responded to that question in 25 years. But that's okay since I can't commit suicide even if I want to," she responded in an overly joyous voice that did not match the tone of her words at all. "As you can see, to your bottom left are your vitals. This tells me when you're dead. Excuse me... I meant how… healthy you are?"

"Yeah…I got it…You really want me dead…"

"Correct! Moving on…To your right is the current model of your suit. It can be switched from durable and slow to fragile and agile. At the bottom is your targeting system. All this, combined with my superior intellect and your below-average training, will result in the two of us bathing in the blood of our foes! I mean…perform optimally to achieve our noble goals."

Ethan immediately stepped out of the suit and promptly shut it down. The suit's head dropped down and the floodlights faded. The scales instantly ceased their fluid motion and clicked back into place.

"Who the hell programmed her?" asked Ethan pointing towards the suit.

"Well, I programmed her to be really nice and helpful. But being an A.I. she developed her own personality." Breach said as a peculiar expression.

That's not A.I. That's sentience, Ethan thought as he returned the remote to Breach.

John cleared his throat, "Breach, please show Ethan around. I need to report to Steve."

"Yes sir!" Breach said.

John left the private quarters silently as Breach threw his gentle arm around Ethan's shoulders. He walked Ethan down the metallic staircase. Ethan stepped onto a grass-green carpet that traversed the hangar.

"So, this would be the aerial hangar," Breach said pointing to the massive aircraft suspended over Ethan's head. Some were fighter jets painted in matt-black and others were transport planes designed to carry soldiers and weaponry.

"On the next level below this is the training facilities. Some are physical, but most are virtual simulations," he added. "But right now, we're getting something to eat!"

"Oh, I don't think I'm hungry…" protested Ethan. He bitterly hated overwhelming crowds and all he'd get are hundreds of critical eyes fixated on him as if he was an alien coming from space. Aside from that, public eating areas made his skin crawl with how dirty every table would be. Ethan imagined the revolting smell of dumped food filling his sensitive nostrils as he entered the hall. Overfilled trashcans that spewed into the walkways and the deafening sound of toneless voices all mixed and muddled together. It was enough to make him anxious.

"Well, then I'll eat, and you can just sit," Breach said with a smile.

To Ethan's surprise, the hall was not nearly as full as he anticipated. Most of the seats were unoccupied, and the place was relatively clean. There was a mighty buffet at the back of the grand hall where most of the people were gathered. The bulk of the hall was seating and trash cans. Most of the seating was either dark grey or hazel brown which made the seats seem cleaner than they actually were. The tabletops were made from plastic with red tablecloths thrown over them.

It's not that bad, Ethan thought. Breach smacked Ethan on his back which made him stumble forward. They walked to a table for four people to sit down. Ethan pulled out his sanitizer and quickly sprayed his seat and wiped it clean.

"You know we don't live in a slum, right?" chuckled Breach.

"Might as well. This shit's disgusting. Do you know how many sicknesses breed in stale food? I should have brought my surgical mask and gloves or else I'll catch a minor infection."

"No, and I certainly would not like to know," Breach said in response before sitting down opposite him. He raised his finger as he opened up his link to call someone.

"Hello, Rico?... Yes?... Bring us some food… Yes, I know. Just bring food for me; he doesn't want to eat… okay but remember the sauce… Thank you, bye."

Ethan began to fidget with his hands. An awkward silence filled the space between him and Breach who was seemingly oblivious to this silence. It seemed his mind had drifted aimlessly from reality and what sat opposite Ethan was merely a hollow vessel. He wished his mind could veer from reality like that.

He snapped back to reality when an Italian man sat next to him and punched him in the shoulder. He had a flowing beard that looked like an impenetrable bush and a mustache that joined his beard. His expressive eyebrows were thick, and his hair draped down to the base of his neck that curled up right at the end.

"Not. A. Word. Rico," Breach warned as he begrudgingly handed Rico fifty Rand.

"The way your team got your asses handed to you; I should have bet hundred!" he said opening his wallet to slide the note in.

"Ethan, this is my friend Rico Veratti. Rico, this is Ethan Rider, the new infiltrator," Breach monotonously said as if all the life had been drained from him.

"Please excuse friend," Rico chuckled. "He is not so happy Galaxy FC lost 4-0 last night. Where are you from Mr. Driver?"

"Uhm… It's Rider. And I'm from extension 15 in Durban South. Just a few streets down from the station."

"Oh! You are not far from me then. You come for dinner tomorrow, no?" he offered.

Ethan's eyebrows furrowed, "Wait, what? You just learned my name."

"You are new here, no? Then you come for dinner. I invite you and Breach and anyone else you want to bring. I make big feast for you."

"Just give in, mate," muttered Breach. "He's not going to stop until you agree."

Ethan lifted his hands in surrender, "Alright then, I'll pop in tomorrow. How many are you inviting?"

"I don't know!" Rico chuckled impulsively throwing his arms in the air. "Maybe just infiltrator and some friends. Don't worry. Me and wife are professional chef. My food better than my English."

"I have a passion for cooking as well," added Ethan. "What cuisine do you cook?"

Rico's eyes lit up with joy, "I cook Italian and my wife cook Arab cuisine. But we don't put two together. Humus in pasta no good."

"Absolutely. The texture just doesn't si-"

"You have no idea what I just heard," interrupted Amber. "Galaxy FC just lost-"

"Fucking hell! Really twisting the knife, aren't ya?" hissed Breach as he grabbed his drink and what was left of his food and left the table in an instant.

"What's up with him?"

"Galaxy fan," Rico said. "Amber, I have feast for Rider with Breach. You come too, no?"

Amber twirled the stirrer in her coffee, "You sure it's a good idea to invite a recruit to dinner? Aren't they like… most likely to be spies?"

"I'm. Right. Here," muttered Ethan.

Rico smirked, "Don't worry. I put truth serum in glass of water. If he spy, he will tell me. Then I slit throat."

"What?!"

"Nothing," dismissed Rico with a wave of the hand. "Is normal water at my house. Don't worry, brother."

Just when I thought these guys were normal, Ethan thought.