Elements
3
I sat astounded as I watched the fire burn in my palm. How was I doing this? How had I created fire from nothing? How was it not catching onto any other part of my body?
“I imagine it must be hard to grasp the concept of your transformation, Mr Jackson,” I heard Mr Andrews say. My eyes were drawn to the flame in my hand, I couldn’t look anywhere else.
“How is this happening?” I said. “How am I doing this?”
“You are now what our agency calls an ‘elemental’,” replied Mr Andrews, smiling. “Elementals are people who can control an element – fire, water, earth, air. As it stands, you are a fire elemental, but we’re hoping to change that –”
“Change it,” I interrupted. “Change it how?”
“Well we’re currently undergoing experiments to see if our subjects can maintain and control more than one elemental ability. For example, a subject who can control both fire and water without the body rejecting both abilities.”
“So you’re planning to carry out more tests on me?” I accused. I wasn’t feeling partial to more pain, more blackouts. I didn’t mind waking up to Miss Brandon again, though…
Mr Andrews made a noise which was somewhere between humour and impatience.
“See here, Mr Jackson,” he answered, a hint of annoyance in his tone. “You are one of a very small amount of people in the world to possess an element. Our agency is not here to punish people. It is here to bring a new dawn of ‘weapons’, so to speak, to our country. What with the current situation in Iran, heaven knows we need more people like you…”
I felt a sudden surge of fury course through my veins. My hands tingled as they balled up into fists and burst into flame. It took up all of my strength not to launch the fire at Mr Andrews.
“So I’m a ‘weapon’ now, am I?” I said through gritted teeth, fighting the urge to attack him. “The thing is, Mr Andrews, I’m not a fan of war. I’m not a fan of killing innocent people.”
I got up from the chair and walked towards the door. The fire surrounding my fists had abated and they were back to their usual colour. Mr Andrews spoke as I reached out for the doorknob.
“Mr Jackson,” he said. “Please.”
He was pleading. Begging. He wanted me to stay so that I would use my ability against others.
I put my hand on the doorknob and turned it.
“One million dollars,” Mr Andrews said.
“I’m not being bribed into anything,” I replied.
I opened the door.
“Two million dollars,” Mr Andrews called.
“It makes no difference how much you offer,” I laughed. This guy was desperate.
I walked out of the door and into the hallway.
“Ten million dollars!” Mr Andrews practically bellowed. I heard Miss Brandon gasp.
“Goodbye, Mr Andrews.”
I shut the door behind me and walked towards the entrance, past the doors with the bronze plaques and towards the irritable receptionist.
“Leaving already, Mr Jackson?” Marjorie questioned, a smile playing around her mouth. I remained silent, walking past her desk and opening the large glass double doors in front of me. Marjorie made an impatient tutting sound.
“What?” I said bluntly, turning around to look at her.
“Mr Andrews insists that you allow the agency to transport you to a residence of your choice. He wants to make sure you get home safely.”
“Well you can tell Mr Andrews that –” I started, but I cut myself off to consider my options.
I had no recollection of where I lived. I couldn’t remember any of my family, or even if I had a family. And if I walked out of this door right now, where would I go? How long would it take me to find the exit in this place? And even if I found the exit, where would I go then? I didn’t know which city I was in. Fuck, I didn’t even know which state I was in.
“Cat got your tongue, Mr Jackson?” Marjorie asked in an innocent voice, though her lips were curled up in a sneer. “Mr Andrews has already arranged transport for you. There’s a helicopter waiting for you on pad 5 and one of our drivers is on his way to take you there.”
No sooner were the words out of her mouth when a black limousine pulled up at the bottom of the steps outside.
Fine, I thought to myself. I stepped out of the door and walked down the steps to the limousine. I threw the back door open and jumped inside, closing my eyes as soon as I’d shut the door.
“Pad 5?” the driver questioned.
“I guess so,” I replied in a resigned voice.
I felt the car pull away and I opened my eyes. The interior of the limo was entirely black, from the heated leather on the seats to the plasma screen on the wall. My eyes drifted towards a small black mini-fridge and I couldn’t help but open it. It was stocked with bottles of Pepsi and a couple of Snickers bars. I hadn’t realised how hungry and thirsty I’d been feeling.
“May I?” I asked the driver, but he’d already seen what I was doing in his rear-view mirror.
“Be my guest,” he smiled. “I’m gonna close the glass up now, any questions just push the little red button by the plasma screen and talk. The drive will take about a half hour so make yourself at home.”
He pushed a button on his dashboard and a black screen wound up, separating us. I grabbed everything out of the mini-fridge and laid them out on the seat next to me. The air conditioning felt nice against my skin as I gulped down a bottle of ice-cold Pepsi in one. I stuffed a Snickers bar into my mouth and stretched out across the leather. I looked around for a remote that might belong to the plasma screen and my eyes fell upon a small rectangular item placed upon the shelf above the mini-fridge. I clicked the power button and jumped about a foot into the air when music surrounded me. I fiddled with the volume button until the music was at a level where I could actually hear myself think and looked again at the small remote control.
There were three rectangular buttons just below the power button:
TV. Hi-Fi. DVD.
I clicked the TV button and the plasma screen blared to life, cutting the music off and showing a live news station’s broadcast.
I wonder what’s going on in the world…
The clock on the screen showed 15:00, just in time for the news hour to begin. A male news presenter appeared on screen with a celebrity smile, introducing himself to his viewers whilst the CNN logo splashed all over the screen. Then, his expression was grave.
“Another seven soldiers have died in battle today as the war in Iran continues, bringing the total number of the dead to three-hundred-and-forty-nine.”
I let out a low whistle and opened up another bottle of Pepsi.
So this is what the “current situation” was, huh?
“President Carlton has denied accusations made that she was sending yet more troops into battle, saying that our country has already suffered enough losses. War-time correspondent Matt Adams has the full story.”
The screen now switched to a conference room where a hard-faced blonde woman in a blue business suit was standing in front of a large US Presidential seal. She was giving a speech of sorts but the correspondent’s voice over cancelled out any words which she was saying. A mirthless laugh escaped my lips and I flicked through the channels, looking for something decent to watch. I found MTV and replaced the remote on its shelf, closing my eyes and leaning back into my seat, listening to the music and enjoying the air conditioning. It was more relaxing than anything I could remember.
I must have dosed off because seemingly seconds later, the driver’s voice woke me up.
“We have arrived at Pad 5, Mr Jackson,” the driver said, waiting for me at the open back door. He held a briefcase in his hands. “Mr Andrews has instructed me to give you this briefcase before you board the helicopter, but has told me that you are strictly forbidden to open it until you arrive at your destination.”
I grabbed the remaining bottles of Pepsi from the seat beside me and jumped out of the limo. The driver held out the case to me and I took it in my free hand.
“Thanks,” I said, nodding my head at him. I felt like I should give him a tip of sorts, so I held out a bottle of Pepsi to him. He looked at me as if questioning my sanity.
“Just take it,” I offered, laughing at the expression on his face. “It’s the least I can offer.”
The driver bowed his head and laughed with me.
“Thank you, Mr Jackson.”
He stepped back into the driver’s seat and pulled away, disappearing round a corner.
I turned around to look at my helicopter and I felt my jaw drop as I took in what I was seeing.
I was standing on a large airfield of sorts. There were aircraft hangars placed either side of a long runway straight ahead of me. Slightly to my left was Pad 5, with a black helicopter waiting for me, blades already spinning slowly as it prepared for me to board. Another four helicopter pads were positioned next to Pad 5, but they were all empty. I looked around, scanning the horizon for any sign of the white buildings, but they were nowhere to be seen. Nevertheless, I had a feeling that I was still in the same facility. I looked back at the helicopter and noticed an official looking logo on its tail. It was a blue circle, with the Great Seal emblazoned upon it in white. “National Association of Technological Advancements in Biology” was curved around the sides of the logo, and the acronym “NATAB” was plastered on the side of the helicopter itself. I took a deep breath and walked towards the helicopter. The pilot greeted me and helped me into my seat, double-checking that I was buckled in safely. I kept a tight hold on the briefcase which Mr Andrews had delivered to me as the pilot put a headset over my ears. I didn’t know what the case held, but I was sure that it would give me answers. The pilot jumped back into his cockpit and I felt the helicopter shudder as the blades whirled into action. I closed my eyes as we made our ascent into the sky.
“I imagine it must be hard to grasp the concept of your transformation, Mr Jackson,” I heard Mr Andrews say. My eyes were drawn to the flame in my hand, I couldn’t look anywhere else.
“How is this happening?” I said. “How am I doing this?”
“You are now what our agency calls an ‘elemental’,” replied Mr Andrews, smiling. “Elementals are people who can control an element – fire, water, earth, air. As it stands, you are a fire elemental, but we’re hoping to change that –”
“Change it,” I interrupted. “Change it how?”
“Well we’re currently undergoing experiments to see if our subjects can maintain and control more than one elemental ability. For example, a subject who can control both fire and water without the body rejecting both abilities.”
“So you’re planning to carry out more tests on me?” I accused. I wasn’t feeling partial to more pain, more blackouts. I didn’t mind waking up to Miss Brandon again, though…
Mr Andrews made a noise which was somewhere between humour and impatience.
“See here, Mr Jackson,” he answered, a hint of annoyance in his tone. “You are one of a very small amount of people in the world to possess an element. Our agency is not here to punish people. It is here to bring a new dawn of ‘weapons’, so to speak, to our country. What with the current situation in Iran, heaven knows we need more people like you…”
I felt a sudden surge of fury course through my veins. My hands tingled as they balled up into fists and burst into flame. It took up all of my strength not to launch the fire at Mr Andrews.
“So I’m a ‘weapon’ now, am I?” I said through gritted teeth, fighting the urge to attack him. “The thing is, Mr Andrews, I’m not a fan of war. I’m not a fan of killing innocent people.”
I got up from the chair and walked towards the door. The fire surrounding my fists had abated and they were back to their usual colour. Mr Andrews spoke as I reached out for the doorknob.
“Mr Jackson,” he said. “Please.”
He was pleading. Begging. He wanted me to stay so that I would use my ability against others.
I put my hand on the doorknob and turned it.
“One million dollars,” Mr Andrews said.
“I’m not being bribed into anything,” I replied.
I opened the door.
“Two million dollars,” Mr Andrews called.
“It makes no difference how much you offer,” I laughed. This guy was desperate.
I walked out of the door and into the hallway.
“Ten million dollars!” Mr Andrews practically bellowed. I heard Miss Brandon gasp.
“Goodbye, Mr Andrews.”
I shut the door behind me and walked towards the entrance, past the doors with the bronze plaques and towards the irritable receptionist.
“Leaving already, Mr Jackson?” Marjorie questioned, a smile playing around her mouth. I remained silent, walking past her desk and opening the large glass double doors in front of me. Marjorie made an impatient tutting sound.
“What?” I said bluntly, turning around to look at her.
“Mr Andrews insists that you allow the agency to transport you to a residence of your choice. He wants to make sure you get home safely.”
“Well you can tell Mr Andrews that –” I started, but I cut myself off to consider my options.
I had no recollection of where I lived. I couldn’t remember any of my family, or even if I had a family. And if I walked out of this door right now, where would I go? How long would it take me to find the exit in this place? And even if I found the exit, where would I go then? I didn’t know which city I was in. Fuck, I didn’t even know which state I was in.
“Cat got your tongue, Mr Jackson?” Marjorie asked in an innocent voice, though her lips were curled up in a sneer. “Mr Andrews has already arranged transport for you. There’s a helicopter waiting for you on pad 5 and one of our drivers is on his way to take you there.”
No sooner were the words out of her mouth when a black limousine pulled up at the bottom of the steps outside.
Fine, I thought to myself. I stepped out of the door and walked down the steps to the limousine. I threw the back door open and jumped inside, closing my eyes as soon as I’d shut the door.
“Pad 5?” the driver questioned.
“I guess so,” I replied in a resigned voice.
I felt the car pull away and I opened my eyes. The interior of the limo was entirely black, from the heated leather on the seats to the plasma screen on the wall. My eyes drifted towards a small black mini-fridge and I couldn’t help but open it. It was stocked with bottles of Pepsi and a couple of Snickers bars. I hadn’t realised how hungry and thirsty I’d been feeling.
“May I?” I asked the driver, but he’d already seen what I was doing in his rear-view mirror.
“Be my guest,” he smiled. “I’m gonna close the glass up now, any questions just push the little red button by the plasma screen and talk. The drive will take about a half hour so make yourself at home.”
He pushed a button on his dashboard and a black screen wound up, separating us. I grabbed everything out of the mini-fridge and laid them out on the seat next to me. The air conditioning felt nice against my skin as I gulped down a bottle of ice-cold Pepsi in one. I stuffed a Snickers bar into my mouth and stretched out across the leather. I looked around for a remote that might belong to the plasma screen and my eyes fell upon a small rectangular item placed upon the shelf above the mini-fridge. I clicked the power button and jumped about a foot into the air when music surrounded me. I fiddled with the volume button until the music was at a level where I could actually hear myself think and looked again at the small remote control.
There were three rectangular buttons just below the power button:
TV. Hi-Fi. DVD.
I clicked the TV button and the plasma screen blared to life, cutting the music off and showing a live news station’s broadcast.
I wonder what’s going on in the world…
The clock on the screen showed 15:00, just in time for the news hour to begin. A male news presenter appeared on screen with a celebrity smile, introducing himself to his viewers whilst the CNN logo splashed all over the screen. Then, his expression was grave.
“Another seven soldiers have died in battle today as the war in Iran continues, bringing the total number of the dead to three-hundred-and-forty-nine.”
I let out a low whistle and opened up another bottle of Pepsi.
So this is what the “current situation” was, huh?
“President Carlton has denied accusations made that she was sending yet more troops into battle, saying that our country has already suffered enough losses. War-time correspondent Matt Adams has the full story.”
The screen now switched to a conference room where a hard-faced blonde woman in a blue business suit was standing in front of a large US Presidential seal. She was giving a speech of sorts but the correspondent’s voice over cancelled out any words which she was saying. A mirthless laugh escaped my lips and I flicked through the channels, looking for something decent to watch. I found MTV and replaced the remote on its shelf, closing my eyes and leaning back into my seat, listening to the music and enjoying the air conditioning. It was more relaxing than anything I could remember.
I must have dosed off because seemingly seconds later, the driver’s voice woke me up.
“We have arrived at Pad 5, Mr Jackson,” the driver said, waiting for me at the open back door. He held a briefcase in his hands. “Mr Andrews has instructed me to give you this briefcase before you board the helicopter, but has told me that you are strictly forbidden to open it until you arrive at your destination.”
I grabbed the remaining bottles of Pepsi from the seat beside me and jumped out of the limo. The driver held out the case to me and I took it in my free hand.
“Thanks,” I said, nodding my head at him. I felt like I should give him a tip of sorts, so I held out a bottle of Pepsi to him. He looked at me as if questioning my sanity.
“Just take it,” I offered, laughing at the expression on his face. “It’s the least I can offer.”
The driver bowed his head and laughed with me.
“Thank you, Mr Jackson.”
He stepped back into the driver’s seat and pulled away, disappearing round a corner.
I turned around to look at my helicopter and I felt my jaw drop as I took in what I was seeing.
I was standing on a large airfield of sorts. There were aircraft hangars placed either side of a long runway straight ahead of me. Slightly to my left was Pad 5, with a black helicopter waiting for me, blades already spinning slowly as it prepared for me to board. Another four helicopter pads were positioned next to Pad 5, but they were all empty. I looked around, scanning the horizon for any sign of the white buildings, but they were nowhere to be seen. Nevertheless, I had a feeling that I was still in the same facility. I looked back at the helicopter and noticed an official looking logo on its tail. It was a blue circle, with the Great Seal emblazoned upon it in white. “National Association of Technological Advancements in Biology” was curved around the sides of the logo, and the acronym “NATAB” was plastered on the side of the helicopter itself. I took a deep breath and walked towards the helicopter. The pilot greeted me and helped me into my seat, double-checking that I was buckled in safely. I kept a tight hold on the briefcase which Mr Andrews had delivered to me as the pilot put a headset over my ears. I didn’t know what the case held, but I was sure that it would give me answers. The pilot jumped back into his cockpit and I felt the helicopter shudder as the blades whirled into action. I closed my eyes as we made our ascent into the sky.