[TheRaisin]

Ian

I followed Ms. Fletcher in silence, anxious to make sure the robots hadn't done anything to Lyra. I shuddered, trying to suppress thoughts about what they could have done to her while she slept. A place where someone would even allude to killing a person while they were in a coma was obviously twisted to a very dangerous degree, not to mention the experiments. Thinking about the abilities Ms. Fletcher had hinted at, something struck me.
"That robot's reaction time couldn't have been slower than mine," I said.
Ms. Fletcher scoffed. "Of course not. What kind of state-of-the-art robot couldn't react faster than a human?"
"Then how did I dodge it when it tried to grab me?" I asked.
"Take a wild guess."
I already knew the answer, although it was hard to believe. "I couldn't have dodged it unless I started moving before it did. Which means I somehow knew what it was going to do before it did it."
A smug and knowing smile crept across her face like a serpent.
"Precognition. Useful, isn't it? It is, of course, limited to the immediate future, and is somewhat more instinctual and less controllable than we had hoped, but it proves invaluable in combat."
I felt a strong urge to tackle her, but I restrained it. "You're really serious, aren't you? You're going to make us into soldiers. But how can you do that legally?"
"Who says it's legal? Our branch of the government is secret even to the rest of the government. We can do anything we want."
I could feel my face contorting with barely controlled rage.
"You can't keep us here, even with your little control chips. You know we could escape eventually."
She spun around and pulled a gun from the inside of her labcoat, which she leveled at my head.
"Enough screwing around, kid. You have two choices: fight or die. Now I'll be honest with you: I like you, and that kid in a coma. You have spunk. You remind me of myself, in fact. But I have no problem with spattering the inside of your head all over this hall."
I could feel my mind start to focus energy, directing all my thought at her. My brain tried to make my legs move me toward her to grab the gun and twist it around at her face. But I knew I was beaten: slowly the anger subsided, replaced by a feeling of defeat. I shrugged slightly, and my fists, which I had subconsciously clenched, lowered and relaxed.
"Good," she said. "Your emotions blind you, but even a dumb animal knows enough to keep itself alive."
I followed in silence once again, wishing I could shoot laser beams from my eyes.
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Lyra

Blackness. Silence. Complete sensory deprevation. Though I could feel nothing, I sensed I was drifting. Time was meaningless, but still it felt like an eternity that I stayed in this unnatural darkness. Then, slowly, it began to dissapear. Swirls of blue-black smoke and fog began to roll across my field of view. The feeling of lazy drifting suddenly changed to a feeling of purposeful movement. Behind the fog I saw faint light. Voices began to echo around me.
"....wake up. Don't try to.... eyes..."
The voices combined into one, but still I heard it as if at a great distance. Then the clouds slowly cleared, and it was as if a veil was lifted from my mind. The voice was now clear and firm, and sounded familiar.
"Don't try to telespeak. Open your eyes."
Without any bidding from my mind, the darkness swept away. My eyes opened, staring directly into the harsh fluorescent light above. I was suddenly aware of my own being, my body and muscles and synapses. There were small noises all around me, like a room full of printers and scanners. I experimentally tried moving my head. It felt heavy, but it seemed to function. I noticed small pinpoints of pain on my skin. Turning my head to look at my left arm, I saw a plethora of small.... what were they? My mind took a moment to sort out the data flowing in through my blurry eyes. Suddenly it registered what they were.
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Ian

I stood with bated breath as Lyra slowly floated to consciousness. She looked at her arm, where the leech-like machines performed their myriad enigmatic duties. After a moment, a look of horror swept across her face. A strangled cry arose from her throat, and she struggled into an upright position, tearing off machines left and right. They squirmed and emmitted horrible screeching and malicious whirring noises. Most wriggled out of her hands and retreated into their sockets, but a few were torn out and lay twisting and sparking on the floor, leaving black electrical marks and tiny pools of oil on the linoleum. The rest retreated before they could be grabbed.
When her skin was free of the robots, Lyra drew herself into a defensive ball and sat shakily rubbing her arms, her eyes still wide with shock and fright. Slowly they moved around, scanning the room for anything familiar. Finally they fixed on my own eyes. Gradually her shivering subsided.
"Ian?"
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Lyra

The cold of the metal table bit into my hands as I listened to Ian's account of what was happening. When he finished, Ms. Fletcher slunk out of the shadows around the edges of the room.
"Now that she is up-to-date on the situation, it is time for her training."
Ian looked stunned. "You expect her to train? She just woke up!"
"C'mon, it doesn't sound that bad," I said. "I can do it."
I slid off the table, and immediately my legs gave out. I stumbled a few paces, and Ian moved forward to help.
"I'm fine," I lied as I stood up straight. The truth was, my legs felt like gelatin. I walked to the door, hoping the slight wobble of my knees didn't give me away.
"See? No problem. Just try and keep me away from that robot!" I wished I felt as confident as I sounded.
"Well... okay," Ian said awkwardly. "I'll wait in the cafeteria."
Ms. Fletcher led me down the hall.
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Ian

The large digital clock in the cafeteria said 3:05 when I entered. I bypassed the food once again, and sat down on one of the long benches. An hour passed slowly. I tried some of the porridge-like gruel from the large heating containers, but found it tasteless and with a consistency that reminded me unpleasantly of luke-warm vomit. I didn't have much of an appetite anyway. Another half-hour ticked away. My eyelids began to droop heavily. I had held off exhaustion for hours, but now it came crashing down on me. My head slumped forward onto the table, and I fell asleep.

The sound of the double-doors swinging open woke me up. I looked quickly at the clock. It read 9:23. I had been asleep for more than six hours! I had only trained for less than three. I turned my attention to Lyra, who was stumbling through the double-doors. Her face and arms were bruised and sliced, streaked with dirt. The cheap sneakers they had provided were almost completely worn through, and the legs of her jeans were torn. Her eyes looked distant and dazed and bloodshot. I leapt up as she approached.
"What happened?!" I asked.
She simply stood there, swaying slightly. Without warning her knees buckled and she toppled forward. I grabbed her by the arm, and had to half drag her to a bench. Although she was extremely light, she was dead weight: her whole body had gone limp.
"What happened?" I repeated.
Her reply was raspy, as if she had gone for days without water.
"Training... so many traps... blades..."
I put one arm over my shoulders and dragged her out the doors. Ms. Fletcher stood smugly leaning against the wall outside.
"What did you do?!"
Her smile was malevolent when she answered. "Well, you already told her about the traps and the missions. I had to make things a bit more challenging."
I wanted to punch her square in the jaw, but I was painfully aware of Lyra's limp body. She seemed to be teetering on the brink of unconsciousness.
"I'll deal with you later," I said.
She laughed. "Oh, yes, you'll 'deal with me'. Just remember, boy, I pull the strings around here. I have the power, and I can use it against you."
I dragged Lyra back to her room. Her toes swept against the floor the entire way. Finally I reached her bed, where I dumped her somewhat unceremoniously. I looked closely at her to make sure she was still breathing. As I closed the door behind me, I called back:
"If you can hear me, I recommend wedging a chair under the doorknob."
I closed the door quietly and entered my own room.