Past Prologue

As soon as X could be relieved, he rushed to the Research wing of headquarters. He could barely keep from running down the long corridors and down the stairwells toward Lab 44. This part of headquarters was underground, and the farther down it went, the more limited access became. Lab 44 was of the last of the research facilities, and therefore required maximum security clearance. As a Class B officer, X was ordinarily prevented from going beyond Lab 25. However, X hoped Dr. Cain had remembered to give him clearance, and once he reached the stairwell to descend beyond Lab 25, he took a deep breath and punched in his code. If Dr. Cain had forgotten, then it would create an embarrassing security uproar. Security protocol was the last thing X wanted to deal with at the moment.

Fortunately, the input panel blipped happily, and the door to the descending stairwell unlatched with a soft hiss. Wasting no time, X hurried further down, and when he reached the door of Lab 44, he punched in his access code. These labs required confirmation from the other side, and so X waited momentarily before the door swished open, revealing the intimidating figure of Sigma. X froze at the unexpected sight, but noticed Sigma wasn’t standing as straight as usual, and was cradling his left arm. His face had changed as well—each of his eyes were now embedded in dark, diamond-shaped wounds.

“X?” Sigma questioned. “What the hell are you doing here?”

X shifted, too afraid to reply immediately, until Dr. Cain’s voice called, saying “It’s alright. I asked him to come.”

Sigma grunted, obviously displeased, and made no movement to allow X in. “With all due respect, I think it would be better if he did not know about this.”

“X is trustworthy, you know that,” Dr. Cain said. “Let him in.”

Grunting again, Sigma stepped back, and X cautiously entered. “Sorry, Commander,” he said. Sigma rolled his eyes. X noted why Sigma was cradling his arm: it was brand new, among other parts whose sheen contrasted sharply with the scuffing that mottled the rest of his body.

X then noticed Dr. Cain at one of the many large workstations, who rotated his robotic hoverchair to greet X. “Thanks for coming, X.”

“No trouble at all, Doctor. But may I ask what the big secret is?” X asked.

Dr. Cain took a deep breath, glancing at Sigma briefly before saying, “I think you should just follow me.”

X nodded, and Dr. Cain moved from the workstation through an open portal to an auxiliary, cylinder-shaped room. Within was a thick column in the center, and rooted to its base was a singular stasis capsule, looking like a gnarled tumor on an old tree. Computer terminals lined the perimeter, outputting data on their screens in continual cycles. X glanced around as he followed Dr. Cain, but soon his eyes fell upon the lone stasis capsule. The capsule was at the moment sealed by an opaque, green-tinted forcefield, preventing him from seeing inside. Dr. Cain entered something into one of the computer terminals before moving next to the capsule.

“X, come here,” Dr. Cain said. X moved closer and stood on the opposite side of the capsule, while Sigma leaned against the door jamb and folded his arms. Dr. Cain tapped the control console of the capsule and the forcefield retracted.

X’s eyes fell upon the sleeping creature inside. The peculiar sight gripped him instantly, his fascination evident in his roving stare. The creature’s red armor was even more startling contrasted against the bed of drab, gray wires he was nestled within, and even more fascinating for X was his youthful, handsome features, crowned by a shattered blue crystal, as blue as X’s armor. X also noted on his left shoulder a mysterious Z-shaped marking.

“Who…?” X began, looking up from the strange reploid, glancing between Dr. Cain and Sigma.

“Meet the Maverick of point CSO-5,” Sigma said bluntly. X blanched.

“You brought it back here!” X exclaimed. “I apologize, Commander, and with all due respect to you and the Doctor, a Maverick as dangerous as this should be deactivated immediately, not studied!”

“I knew we shouldn’t have let him see it,” Sigma said. “He won’t understand.”

“Understand?” X said hotly, trying his best to keep his outrage outside the bounds of insubordination.

“X, calm down,” Dr. Cain said. “I can’t say I disagree with you, but I think you’ll reconsider when I tell you that this specimen may very well be related to your own origin.”

“Related?” X said. “You cannot convince me of having any relation to a Maverick.”

“Cool it. That’s an order,” Sigma said sternly.

“But he nearly destroyed you,” X said, turning to Sigma. “After you fought him for Garma’s sake!”

“For Garma’s sake?” Sigma repeated. He then burst out laughing. “You thought I wanted to avenge him?”

“What?” X said. “What other reason would there have been? You even refused backup.”

“Yes, but not because I wanted to prevent further casualties. I wanted a duel, not a clusterfuck that our forces are so good at. Knowing there was a Maverick out there who could defeat Garma so easily was exciting to find out, wasn’t it, X? Perhaps not for a Class B officer such as yourself, but for someone like me, it was a thrill to encounter such an exquisite Reploid, and a spectacle to see what this Maverick was capable of. And let me tell you, he did not disappoint.” As Sigma finished, he seemed to absent-mindedly rub his left shoulder where his new limb was still integrating with his old body.

X was shocked speechless at the revelation, as well as his Commander’s tone and choice of words. He had never heard him speak like that before. X turned back to view the Maverick, and he worried that it may not be the only thing that was malevolent in the room.

“So why bring him back?” X asked.

“I wanted him studied. In battle, I could tell that he was not built after my specifications, and therefore created by another human. Based on the cursory survey we’ve managed to perform, we think he might be nearly as old as you are. Does that not make you even the slightest bit curious, X?”

X had to admit that such information did make him curious. In addition, the more he looked upon the mysterious robot’s peaceful face, the more mercy he felt like giving, if for nothing else except to spite Sigma’s cold-hearted words. His misgivings about the situation would not relent, however, and he said, “I hope you aren’t planning to revive him.”

“The study would not be complete without observing his conscious state,” Sigma said with a grin.

“Dr. Cain,” X pleaded. “There must be some other way.”

“X, I know what you must be feeling. You have a big heart, which must feel even heavier at a time like this. However, I must be the one to conduct this delicate research, and I am sure you realize that.”

X did realize it. He knew that even if Dr. Cain refused, Sigma would no doubt find another researcher. Who would be able to know if that researcher had the scruples as impeccable as Dr. Cain’s? Against Sigma’s authority, X would lose, just as badly as he was losing the argument then.

“I can’t believe this,” X said.

“I don’t care what you believe, but I think you appreciate the sensitivity of this,” Sigma said. “I’m expecting you to keep quiet about what is going on here. To anyone else except those in this room, you will say that I destroyed the Maverick at CSO-5. I don’t care if you are a good officer and a long time friend of Dr. Cain’s, for if you blow the whistle on this, I will see to it that you will never work for any Reploid Police force ever again.”

“Don’t worry,” X said glumly. “I know.”

“Good,” Sigma said. “In return, I’ll allow you to observe the progress we make here, so long as you are discreet about your visits here.”

“Yes, sir,” X replied. He fixated upon the red reploid in the capsule once again, fingering the edge of the inside absent-mindedly. X wished the right answer was easier to grasp sometimes.

“If that is all, I would prefer privacy for my work,” Dr. Cain said.

“Of course,” Sigma said. “Let’s go, X.”

X tore his eyes away from the capsule’s occupant and shuffled out of the lab behind Sigma, still mentally digesting what he had learned. He would not rest well that evening, he determined that much.

“Try not to overthink this, though I know that’s like asking the tide to stop coming in.” Sigma said. “I will promise you that if he is too dangerous, that I will make sure he is completely disposed of.”

X nodded at Sigma’s promise, for it relieved him somewhat. They walked further before Sigma asked, “Don’t you find it unbelievable, though, that someone might intentionally create a Maverick?”

“Humans can be as good or evil as any reploid,” X said. “Whoever made him could have easily been just as mad.” As X spoke, he was struck by his own words, and felt a jolt of pity course through him. He felt sorry for the red Maverick, if it was a human who had intentionally created him that way.

“Well said, X. How true that is,” Sigma said, bringing his knuckles to his chin.

True to his prediction, X failed to resolve his apprehension about the day’s events by the time he retired for regular maintenance late that evening. The months ahead would be long and sleepless, for X believed that there was a true monster on the premises.