Growing

Vanishing. The room again disappeared around them. Lore was beginning to understand Catherine’s disorientation warning; the cube, so far, had been an interesting experience. They now knew how to ask for milk in two more languages and could disarm and disassemble a rifle and its wielder in under a minute. They watched as the ‘nursery’ became a classroom. Two tables, two seats, two students.
“Welcome to the start of your school days. There you are.” The Hologram appeared and pointed to a small child with a mess of orange hair on his head. “Two years old.”
“Who’s that?” Lore paused. “Is that Crait?” They pointed at the other student. Skin and bones with matted black hair.
The Hologram paused. “Yes, that is Crait. Though, at this point, neither of you had names.”
“Sorry, what?” Lore was taken aback. Their next question would be answered by the Teacher at the front of the room.
“Prime, tell me, when did the Titanic sink and why is it considered a Fixed event?” The Teacher pointed to the ginger child.
“The Titanic sank in Nineteen Twelve and is considered a Fixed event because every effort to change its fate has had no measurable impact on the timeline. No matter what is changed, it still finds a way to sink.” He spoke proficiently and in a matter of fact tone but his voice was still that of a small child.
“It’s also one of the barred times in accordance with the temporal protection act.” The other child spoke up, raising their hand as they did.
“While your addition was also correct Zero, you are to wait for permission before you speak.” The Teacher shot a disapproving look at them. “That was exactly what I was looking for Prime, well done.”
“Zero?” Lore looked to the hologram.
“As you were designated Prime, Crait was once known as Zero. These names were a part of a short lived experiment to see the effects of… dehumanising a child in an attempt to make a better Inquisitor.” The Hologram sounded unsure. “They were your technical designations. You were the prime subject, every bit of the early Guild’s research was put into you and making sure you turned out to be the perfect specimen and Crait was unfortunately subject Zero.”
“So everything they did to me, to them, they tested on Crait first?” Lore felt a sickness move up their throat.
“Exactly. Well, not everything but most things certainly.” A clipboard appeared in The Hologram’s hands. “They got the memory grafts first, both muscle and knowledge; most of the hormonal procedures and other alterations to your internal organs were tested on them first though some at a lower dosage, they also wanted to test the differences the procedures had in Oestrogen and Testosterone dominated systems so they sped that along too… Speaking of puberty.”

The classroom melted away as three years of memories filed into Lore’s head. It reformed into a familiar location: the boxing arena from their dreams. At the centre, the towering amazon of a woman; they could see her more clearly now and she was somehow even more beautiful. A pair of scrawny yet strangely muscular five year-olds stood flanking her. They were both dressed in identical kits: A black tank top and a pair of crimson shorts. Unlike during their last ‘visit’, the room was nearly filled. Scientists, researchers and technicians from a smorgasbord of fields filled the arena.
The Hologram directed Lore to sit. “Five years old, you were both forced through puberty. You have the mental age of a forty year old, intelligence off the scale in all regards for your age and this is the place you came to prove that.”
“But why?” Lore looked around. The crowd was loud and excitable but not over the prospective violence but rather the data they were preparing to collect.
“Because she.” The Hologram pointed to the figure standing with their youth. “She wanted to give you a name, she proposed that you be treated more as humans.” It paused. “That woman is responsible for the you who made you being somewhat rounded as a person. She spent the most time with you, training you, teaching you. She saw that both of you wanted more, needed more; the scientists around us disagreed. They thought that your physical and mental developments were paramount to your success as Inquisitors. They wanted you to be living weapons. She wanted to give you a soul.”
“But why in here?” Lore looked around. “What was she trying to prove?”
“She wanted to show that you were already the best you could be, but also that you were feral. They were trying to breed scalpels and they created unstable reactors.” The Hologram nodded to the ring. The lights started to dim.
“I give you Prime and Zero.” The Trainer began. “These two have been under my tutorage for the last three years. I have taught them, as you’ve instructed, how to fight and how to kill; they also know the fine minutiae of temporal mechanics, biology and physics among other fields. Either of them could easily replace any individual in this room. I hereby argue that they now lack the ability to operate as you wish them to.” She waved her hand. A series of faceless soldiers entered the theatre followed by six heavily padded individuals with the word civilian printed across their shoulders. “I shall give the instructions as they were set out for the experiment.” The soldiers knocked the civilians to the floor and surrounded them, taking them hostage. “Prime, Zero, your task is to rescue the hostages. Failure is not an option.”

Lore wished they could un-see what happened next. It was almost too quick for them to process. As The Trainer ended her sentence, the two children became blurs as they each started their dash towards the nearest soldier. They moved in perfect synchronisation as they mounted their first targets and stripped them of any weapons; armed, they beat their opponents to the ground before moving on to their next target. It became hard to determine where the crimson of their shorts ended and the blood of the soldiers began but by the end of the exercise, their black tank tops adhered to their torsos and the whites of the civilians were no longer pristine. The trainer had made her point. The hologram stood. Awkward.