> day.59
Alex stares into the bathroom mirror. Short, boyish ruffles of hair are wrapped in shiny plastic, waiting for a fresh wash of Platinum Nova to set in. Eyes are tired and grey. Jaw feels pointier, tighter than usual. Nose has changed.
Alex looks away.
Dad’s down in Washington. Murphy’s putting together new training modules—Alex is blazing through them so quickly that the guys over in Sector 4 can’t pump out new game assets fast enough.
Alex hops onto the bathroom counter, gazes at the white wall. Home screen loads into view. No unread messages. Plenty of locked apps. Some snippets of grim news.
Militias besieging Washington. Moscow evacuated under radioactive snow. Food riots in China, Nigeria, Mexico, Brazil. Blackouts in Germany, Japan, India, Egypt. Outbreaks everywhere, new diseases as far as the eye can see. Floods, droughts, firefights swelling in scale, automated warfare, machines versus machines.
Alex takes a deep breath in. The air at the Hudson Bay Complex is more sober than usual. The agents are all on edge. Even the food service droids aren’t as chatty as they used to be. Murphy’s obsessed with his work. Dad’s off at so many meetings.
Are they going to deploy Alex soon?
Alex slowly breathes out all the anxieties. Needs to pass the time with more positive thoughts while the dye absorbs. Gaze shifts to two messages forwarded along from Murphy a few days ago. Check-ins from Soren and Carson. Alex started to draft replies, but it’s hard to string together the right words lately. Maybe tomorrow.
Alex closes the messages. Stares back into the bathroom mirror. Shoulders seem bigger. Maybe from all the training? Neck seems wider. Cheeks are sharpen̴i̶n̸g. Brow is th̴̬̻̣͔̟̮͂̓̃̀̀̇̔͋͆̚͜͝ic̴̜̬̽ken̸͒͜í̴̥n̴̡͝g. Skin is hardeǹ̷̬͈͈̚į̵̤̲̋͊̿n̸̼̟̬̫̿g̷̨̧̊̐͊̐. Body is m̸͙͝õ̴̘r̶̜͌p̵̛̳h̸̠̓i̷̞͋ñ̸̲g̴̘͆. Room is wobbl̷̳͓̬͖̣̫̈́̀̓͋́͘ḯ̶̳͐̎n̸̛̹̼̔̈́́̍̈́͊g.
Alex looks away. The dye should be done by now. Quick rinse, then back to the Training Chamber.
Alex takes a big breath out.