Specimen Read Online Free Page A

equipment as I run faster and faster.
    For the first time since I woke, a sense of familiarity comes over me.  My bare feet slam down rhythmically as I run with long strides, and my arms pump at my sides with practiced agility.
    I’ve done this before.
    There is no clock in the room, but I still have a good sense of time.  I run without slowing for well over an hour and a half.  I’m sweating, but I feel no fatigue, no thirst, no hunger.  When Riley looks up and our eyes meet, I want to run faster—to show her I can do more.  I want her impressed with me, proud of me.  When the test is over, she smiles, and my heart pounds faster than it had when I was running.
    “You did very well, Sten.”
    She checks my pulse, blood pressure, and temperature.  I notice the red display on the tablet states my temperature is higher than I would expect, and I ask her if I’m sick.
    “No, that’s normal for all the specimens.  Most of your body functions are faster than the average person, and the increase in body temperature helps to compensate for the effects on your endocrine system.”
    We return, along with the armed guards, to the lab where we started, and I’m given water and another thick liquid that tastes sweet.  It’s the first I can recall eating or drinking anything.  I consume them quickly, and Riley leads me over to the sink and the cabinet, which contains towels and toiletries.
    I stand in the corner and let water from the showerhead pour over me for a moment before I wash myself and put on a pair of clean shorts.  There is a razor, shaving soap, and brush set out on the edge of the sink, and I stare at my unfamiliar face in a small, round mirror as I shave.
    When I’ve finished cleaning up, I sit on the edge of the bed. Riley tells the guards they can leave and then offers to answer more of my questions.
    “How long have I been here?” I ask.
    “About four months,” she tells me.
    “I was unconscious that whole time?”
    “Most of it, yes.”
    “I don’t remember any of it.  The first thing I remember is waking up alone.”
    “I’m sorry about that.  There was a miscalculation.  I should have been there.”
    Recalling my state of mind at the time, I start to say something about how I might have hurt her if she was there, but I realize that isn’t true.  I wouldn’t have hurt her.  If she had been there, I would have been fine.
    Why am I so drawn to her?
    “Why did I volunteer to do this?”
    “I’m afraid I don’t have an answer to that.  I haven’t been given much information outside of your physical characteristics.”
    “Do you know anything about me?”
    “Very little,” she admits.  “Frankly, it’s inconsequential.  Your past life is over.  This is who you are now.”
    For the first time, I find no comfort in her words.  I have no idea what kind of man I am or was.  I don’t know where I came from.  I don’t even know my name or how old I am.  There has to be a reason I volunteered.  Am I a patriot, as she said, or am I just violent?  What about my family?  Do I even have one?  What kind of man volunteers to have his memory destroyed?
    Someone who doesn’t want to know his past.
    I’m tired.  I have no idea what time of day it is, not that it matters here, but I can barely keep my eyes open.
    “Lie down,” Riley says.  “You’ve had enough for now.”
    I lie down on my side and blink slowly.  Riley sits next to me on the rolling chair, and I reach out to her.  She takes my hand, and I rub her wrist with my thumb.
    I can feel her pulse.  I count her heartbeats as my head becomes cloudy.
    “How old were you when your father was killed?” I ask.
    “Seven, but I remember him clearly.”
    “Did they find out who did it?”
    “I don’t know who pulled the trigger,” she says, “but I know who is responsible.”
    “Who?”
    “His name is Peter Hudson.  He is the head of the Carson Alliance.”
    “Will I ever meet him?”
    “I don’t