Prologue
Edward Bains entered a stark white room. In front of him was a large volt door with a pair of heavily armed guards standing beside it. As he approached them, they didn’t question him for identification or prevent him from passing, they simply nodded their heads. On the door was a black pad with a red hand print on it. Placing his right hand on the biometric pad, he said his last name in a rather deep voice, “Bains.” At that moment, the volt door unlocked in a loud clanking sound and slowly swung open. He entered and walked through a long, narrow corridor towards two glass automatic doors that slid open at his approach. He was met by a short, neurotic looking scientist, with thick glasses and a white lab coat with a peculiar looking emblem knitted into its fabric. They continued down the tunnel, which now had glass walls and was suspended above several large laboratories to give authorized onlookers a bird’s-eye-view of the research and progress.
“Glad you can make it,” said the scientist.
“I do what I can,” said Bains. “How’s Diane?”
“Her settlement finally went through. She’s going to run off with some twenty-something-year old real estate broker.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be,” said the scientist. “After seventeen years of babysitting her drinking habit, this is a much welcome turn of events. But anyways, I believe I already know to what I owe this visit.”
“I don’t have much time,” said Bains, “so I’ll give you ten minutes to impress me.” The two proceeded through the corridor above the labs below. “I had a long conversation with- Him last night,” Bains continued.
“Who is this Him?” asked the scientist.
“He prefers a certain level of anonymity. But all questions shall be answered with time.”
“I see,” said the scientist with intrigue.
“He was not very pleased with the pace of your research. The Archangel Project is going far too slow.”
“On the contrary, Mr. Bains, we have made considerable progress over the past week.”
“Really? Such as…”
“If you will come this way I will show you,” directed the strange scientist. He led Bains into a highly secure chamber. The room was round and the walls were made from stainless steel. Opposite to the entrance was a small glass enclosure. Within it was an odd looking jump suit. It was as black as deep space, had a silver belt, and silver collars that lined the wrist, ankles and the neck that shone like the moon, and was being displayed on a mannequin. “I give you The Knight Suit. One of our greatest accomplishments,” claimed the scientist.
“Impressive. What is it?” asked Bains.
“Well, what you are looking at is not just any ordinary suit. When it is complete it will have many features. As of right now, it is impervious to anything short of an MP5.”
“Interesting,” expressed Bains.
“Its secret is in the way it’s made,” explained the scientist. “It is composed of what we call nanofabric: fibbers made out of tiny, synthetic, carbon units which are like microscopic chain mail. This gives the suit extreme durability, and it’s able to fit in a small compartment no larger than a pickle jar.”
“And suits like these will be worn by our subjects?”
“That is correct Mr. Bains. But so far this is the only one of its kind. It’s just a prototype.”
“I see,” said Bains, “But I am not interested in a fashion show. I came here to inspect our other investment.”
“Ah, right this way then.”
Bains then followed the old scientist out of the chamber and again they went along the glass corridor until they were walking across another lab. As Bains examined the facility, he took notice of a steel tank in the centre of the lab. It was rectangular in shape, resembling that of a sarcophagus. “What’s that?” asked Bains.
“Your investment,” answered the scientist.
“You mean we spent six billion dollars to build a damn hunk of metal.”
“No, Mr. Bains. It’s what lies inside that hunk of metal that put a dent in your wallet. Come, I will show you.” The two men walked into an adjacent room filled with the all sorts of computer equipment. The scientist approached the control panel and activated a large monitor. He began to type in a series of codes and suddenly there was an image of a large, powerful, and muscular looking man. There was also a profile of the man that included his weight: 550.72 lb., and his height: 7’10”. The most startling thing was that most of this size wasn’t fat, it was pure muscle and cybernetics.
“What in the name of God is that.” asked Bains, trying to maintain his cool composure.
“Our little science project,” answered the scientist. “We call him the Archangel.”
“Jesus Christ…” Bains whispered to himself.
“Impressive, isn’t he?”
“How did you create this monster?”
“Well, because of that government ban on human test subjects,” explained the scientist, “we went through hell trying to find a suitable candidate. Eventually we were able to secure a certain individual on death row. Your company’s generosity saw to it that the wrong people didn‘t find out.”
“The wrong people?”
“Yes. The media, governments- the unsavoury kind.”
“You said he was on death row. What were his crimes?”
“Oh, the little things: robbery, rape, murder, torture, bombings, assassinations, terrorism… you know. He actually served in the military before he went insane and disappeared. He called himself Ahmed Elijah and unfortunately he has been the only subject we were able to procure so far.”
“I’m not interested in technicalities or names,” said Bains. “Just make sure it’s ready by the deadline. He is not a patient man. When will it be ready?”
“We are still making a few finishing touches and a few tune ups,” responded the scientist, “but we expect him to be ready fairly shortly.”
“Good. You folks have done well, for now. Just don’t keep Him waiting.”
Embryo 