Chapter 15: Past IV - Childhood
Belevere’s eyes widened in horror at Annabelle’s words.
It was common knowledge that children shouldn’t pilot mechs.
Even putting aside their unstable aptitude, their brains are too immature to synchronize properly, and the feedback from even a properly calibrated neural interface was potentially dangerous.
Everyone has heard of the Laretz Scandal. Early on in the development of mechs, the effects of neural interfaces on pilots had been even more unclear than it was now. It was known then that the earlier a person began piloting mechs, the more skilled they became in their later years.
Thus, the Laretz Empire began to secretly recruit children as young as five and trained them to pilot mechs in an experiment to see how far they could push it.
They disregarded all ethical measures in their experiment. While many of the test subjects grew up to be extremely skilled and dangerous pilots, with a huge number of expert pilots compared to neighboring states, even more lost their minds or died.
Even those deemed successful had severe personality and mental issues, and when the scandal was uncovered and the former test subjects were put into a rehabilitation facility, many of them committed suicide.
While technology today has advanced such that all superstates and most great states could successfully undo the physical damage inflicted by neural interface feedback on immature minds, even the super-states can’t fix aptitude damage—according to Director Rhidde of the BME Medical branch for Tamsel III.
Even if they could, Belevere doubted that the human rights and ethics interest groups would support a public program. Any programs would have to be done secretly, or on a private basis like Vesmelda did for Annabelle.
“It was so painful, it’s a wonder I’m still sane today.”
———————
Annabelle’s head threatened to split apart as she pressed the red button that she had learned will grant her relief if she pressed it. The black box she sat in stopped vibrating and the wall in front of her opened up to show her the dark walls of an underground room.
“Mommy, it hurts!”
Her cry bounced around the room, repeating many times.
Tears spilled out of Annabelle’s eyes as she held her head tightly. She sat curled up in the big seat that she had once loved for how soft and big it was, but now grew to hate, for it meant nothing but pain and suffering for her whenever she sat on it.
When she made the big machine move earlier, she had been tossed around the box even though the nice people had done their best to make it so that she wouldn’t be able to move.
Despite the pain, she didn’t dare do more than protest. Once, she managed to get free from the seatbelt and tried to leave the big machine by herself, but the ground was too far below and she was scared. She couldn’t put on the belt by herself either, so she remained stuck there until her mother finally told the nice people to bring her down.
Then her mother slapped her and told her to not come down again until she was told to. Since that day, Annabelle had never tried to leave her seat on her own.
“Mommy, can I come down, please?” she called again.
Her mother probably wasn’t in the room, but she’ll be watching from somewhere.
She sniffed. The pain was getting a little better now, but she didn’t dare admit it. Even if the nice people asked her if she was feeling better, she learned to answer no, or else they will put her back into the big machine. She didn’t want to be in the big machine anymore, because it hurt her.
She waited for an answer. For as long as there wasn’t one, she could rest.
Her body tensed, ready for a voice to tell her to get back to moving the machine any minute now. But she waited and waited, and there was no voice. Hope blossomed in her chest. Could it be over for today?
Annabelle didn’t dare be too happy in case she was wrong.
Fortunately, she found that soon that she wasn’t.
A door far below her slid open, letting in bright light that hurt her eyes.
An uncle came in and walked over to a cage. The cage was then lifted by bending metal arms. As he came close, Annabelle could finally make out his face and she recognized him immediately.
He had a really funny mustache and he dressed in a white coat like everyone else. He told him to call him Mister Swarts.
“I can go down now?” she asked.
“Of course!”
He leaned forward and lifted her out of the seat after undoing her seat belt.
His arms were strong and since he was always the one that came to get her out, he was a nice person. Annabelle clung to him as she shut her eyes, afraid to look down. They were really high up right now.
A whirring sound filled the air as the cage came down and the mustache uncle put her on the ground. But when she tried to stand by herself, her legs buckled as soon as she put her weight on it. She yelped, barely managing to keep from falling as she grabbed onto the nice uncle’s coat.
“Ah! My legs... they’re not working?”
There was something wrong with her legs. She couldn’t move them. She couldn’t feel them anymore. “M-mister Swarts, m-my legs. I can’t move them.”
She couldn’t even spare the strength to look up. Her arms shook from the effort of keeping up her whole weight. Her fingers began to slip. Just as she was about to let go, Mister Swarts reached down and picked her up.
He smiled at her and rubbed his mustache on her cheek, his glasses cold on her face. Normally, she’d be laughing at how the spiky grey hairs ticked and scratched her, but this time she was too scared.
“Mister Swarts, my legs aren’t working,” she sobbed.
The uncle laughed, and it made her feel a little better. Laughing meant something good and she shouldn’t be too panicked. “Don’t worry, Annabelle. It’s normal. You’ll be fine after you rest for a few days, okay?”
Annabelle thought about Mister Swarts’s words and nodded. It made sense. No matter what happened after she sat and made the big machine move, she was always okay afterwards.
It happened so often Mister Swarts and the other nice people had a name for it. Since it had a name, it must be normal.
“Is it the ‘side effect’ thing again?” Annabelle asked. That’s what they always told her when she asked what had happened.
Mister Swarts beamed at her. “Very good, Annabelle! Yes. It’s the side effect. Since your legs can’t move, we’ll have to get you a special chair to move around in. It’ll be fun, okay?”
Annabelle clapped. Although it was really weird that she couldn’t feel her legs, the chair sounded fun. “Yes!”
“Good girl!”
Suddenly, Mister Swarts looked around slowly.
Annabelle quieted down. She knew what that look meant. Mister Swarts was looking for people hiding around them. There was something he wanted to say to her that he didn’t want others to hear. Annabelle helped him look, and there really wasn’t anyone.
All the other nice uncles and aunts weren’t around for some reason, so she leaned in to Mister Swarts’s ear to report. “There’s no one around.”
“Okay.” Mister Swarts looked around one more time and leaned into her ear too. “Don’t tell anyone I told you this, okay? But as a reward for being a good girl, I’ll ask your mother to let you rest for a few more days, okay?”
“Okay!”
Mister Swarts smiled at that and patted her head. Annabelle rested her head on his shoulder in response. Her eyes drooped.
She was getting tired. Moving the big machine always made her sleepy.
As they left the big dark room, Annabelle looked back one last time at the big machine many times bigger than even Mister Swarts. A sense of relief swept over her as they entered a bright white tunnel and doors slid shut behind them.
He told him to call him Mister Swarts
maybe: he told her