Part Two

It was dark in the room. He could not see the walls around him, even cramped inside as he was. They had said that light deprivation was important, a key part of the entire experiment. He suspected it was just a way to ensure he didn’t get cold feet.

It could have been hours he waited, days, weeks, or just minutes. There was no way to measure time in this cold, impersonal blackness.

After an ageless time of waiting, a door grated open in front of him. Weak light spilled into the small cell that was nothing like a prison. He stood, stretching his arms and flexing his legs before he slowly walked out of the door and into the light.

It was as he had remembered, with a soft, warm red carpet on the floor and a small lamp set into the wall. He turned back, and smiled as he remembered how much that the cell looked like an elevator. He would not be going back there.

He walked along the red-carpeted corridor, the sound of his footsteps deadened by it. He was excited now. Excited to see now that he had come all this way, if the Metaldroid Project would actually work.

He reached the white door and pressed the button. The door slid open with a hiss. He took a deep breath and entered. It slid shut behind him. His breath was held while all air was sucked out of the small space between doors. The door in front of him then slid open and he could walk through to the laboratory. He stepped inside.

There was a smell of disinfectant in the air. White coated men and women were in multitudes; everywhere he turned there were at least a hundred of them. Others also, patrons of this experiment. They had, of course, been sworn to secrecy. They did not interest him; he had eyes only for what lay in the centre of the room.

It was a strange arrangement of wires and unpleasant looking metal objects. This was not what caught his eye, but rather what stood propped up beside it.

The Metaldroid.

It was huge, about two metres tall. Its head was almost like a pair of binoculars in shape, but something about their metallic shine assured anyone who saw it that this was no bird watching machine. It was shaped much like a human, having two arms, two legs, and a torso and head. It looked to be full metal, and so strong no tank shell could even scratch it. The arms ended in gloved hands, hands of metal that could bend lampposts and crush safes on a whim, but could handle weapons and bombs with gentleness and dexterity. The feet were like steel capped boots, except that they were made entirely from steel. There were rockets stored in the torso, and machine guns concealed in the arms. There were many biological weapons, mostly illegal, built inside it, ranging from nerve gas to amnesia drugs. This was not a thing that used subtlety. No, this was a war machine.

He stared at in wonder, lost in its destructive beauty. He was startled by a doctor who came up to him to take him to the centre. His breath came faster as he realised the moment he had waited for was about to come to pass.

He stepped up onto the platform and swung his leg over the side of the chair. He sat down, and white coated men pulled wires around him. The final thing he saw was the helmet being laced on his head and then he could see only blackness. He heard the lead scientist speak.

“This is the greatest piece of work of our time. No longer shall we rely on America, nor any other country, to guard us from terrorists and danger! We shall have a weapon that is stronger than any bomb. We have … the Metaldroid.”

He stepped back and whispered in the sitting man’s ear, or as close as he could get to it.

“OK, remember what you have to do. When we flick the switch, you’ll need to enter the key, like we’ve practiced before. You can do that, right? Good.” His tone was comforting, gentle, but a note of worry was evident.

The blackness fully enveloped him now. Abruptly, all sound was cut off. He had no senses; he was floating, floating in space. There was nothing, nothing at all. He was a soul left his body.

He was brought back from his thoughts when he heard a sharp beeping noise and saw some words in front of him. They said: Enter Key Now. Nervously, he entered the key phrase he had learnt and was immediately accepted. He felt a rush of warmth and then opened his eyes. He stood up. The crowd cheered.

He had successfully linked his mind to the Metaldroid body. He could now go out and control it, become a war machine. He would not be able to feel pain, or ever get tired. He could leave the body and return to his actual body whenever he needed. He was in control. He was elated. He raised the Metaldroid fist and spoke. The crowd fell silent as he spoke. The voice was deep, emotionless, strong.

“We are Britain once more!”

As the crowd laughed and cheered and the scientists congratulated one another, the man had other thoughts. They had underestimated the powerful feeling of controlling another body. If he was not careful, it could become an addiction.

No.

He was certain it would.

He smiled, revealing his shiny metal crocodile teeth. He was going to spend a lot more time in this body. Humans were so pitifully weak.

He did not pity them.