This tale is in honour of a great writer! I hope you enjoy it and I hope she does too!
YAY Marie B!
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The war was horrific. The Nazis have taken most of Europe and have started their march on Russia. Some think this a foolish endeavour, to stretch your forces so far and wide… but so far none have been able to resist Hitler’s wrath and many believe the Russians will surely fall too. Britain holds out by the grace of the ocean. Without the channel to cross they would have been defeated long ago and although America has been drawn into the war, they too are fighting it on two fronts, dispatching some forces to repel and crush the attacks from Japan and some to deal with the European threat.
That’s where I come in. My name is Gemma, but you can call me Dr Rox. No really, I insist. I didn’t spend 8 years studying to be called Miss Rox. I’m 5’3” and 110lbs, my body is toned as I am a firm proponent of the notion healthy body, healthy mind. And I need my mind to be healthy. My hair is a little longer than shoulder length, straight and dark. Although at this point in my life I have no interest in relationships, I get no end of offers and so I must come to the conclusion that some people find me to be attractive. I’m headstrong and stubborn when I know I’m right, and I’m always right. But all this is irrelevant, all you need to know is my specialisation…
I specialise in Genome Manipulation and Displacement. That might not mean a lot to you, but it should. It’s the reason the alliance is going to win this war. I’ve formulated a technique of creating super soldiers… Women who’s strength and power can turn around this war. Unfortunately Winston Churchill doesn’t agree… I still remember his pug like face and whiskey breath as he put me down…
“Young lady… as noble as your endeavours may be, you’d be far more help to this war effort if you would just be a good little strumpet and fetch us men some more drinks…”
Fucking sexist arse hole! Still… it’s nothing new to me. Every man I meet tells me to stop my foolish science and start washing dishes. The Americans were no better, their scientists laughed me out of the room calling out “We don’t need anymore lab assistants doll face!” Although I did smile at the thought of their bowl troubles after I put a rather potent array of laxatives in their coffee…
I travelled around searching the globe trying to find a government to fund the project but none had the wits to see the benefits… until I met with General Boche… General of the Forces armées canadiennes (that’s the Canadian Armed Forces to you and me). He was a man who exhumed power and command yet he had a soft spoken manner and a whimsical appreciation for life, hardly traits you’d associate with an armies General… His manner disarmed me, I just couldn’t see where he was leading too… he either held me in an amused regard, merely entertaining me before he shot me down, or he wanted to take me over the desk… I had the feeling it was both.
He was a handsome man, around 5’10 and 150lbs. Not skinny but thin and fit. It was clear he didn’t let his high position in the ranks soften him, he liked to keep in shape. I’d say he was late 40’s and had a roguish smile that was disarming. His accent was heavily French and I melted every time he called me Mon Cher…
He seemed very interested in my science and incredibly keen to see the results but he didn’t ever let me know if he was committed to the idea or not… It appeared more like a curiosity to him than a viable military project. The conversation went back and forth like a tennis match, each of us slamming the topic back to wrong foot the other and gain an edge… it was exhausting, he was an intelligent man and I’ve met far to few of them on my travels… eventually he stopped toying and sparing with me and got down to the crux of his doubt
“So Dr Rox… you really think this could work?” Boche asked
“Of course General!” I reply “The tests have proved conclusive, we have exceeded expectations on every level”
“Then why is it you are here?” he asks raising a quizzical eyebrow, he was a smart man and his question was not without merit
“You mean… why am I not in my native country, aiding the war effort there with my findings?” I reply… he doesn’t answer, just looks at me with a nod and a grin. I decided then that I liked him “It’s a good question… you see the leaders back in Britain are of a… traditional stock… they believe a woman’s place is in the kitchen or the bedroom” his eye’s perked up when I mentioned the bedroom… most guys did that…
“I cannot believe that your government would turn down an army of super soldiers just because the idea came from a woman! That is to say… I was a little surprised when you first came to my attention Mon Cher, it is… how you say… a little queer for a woman to reach such high standing in the scientific world… but IF your science is proven like you say it is... Then surely they would not turn you down, no?”
“You are of course right, and the truth is they didn’t turn me down… they turned my science down. And it’s not because it failed… they wanted an army of super soldiers… to them that meant 6ft 200lbs fighting men that didn’t sleep, didn’t eat, just lived for war… and the truth is my creation doesn’t sleep, doesn’t eat and is built for war… but their women… not men…”
The Generals left eyebrow raised to an impossible angle as his face took on an almost comical expression of confusion and doubt. I carried on regardless
“It’s quite simple you see… with a male subject the testosterone levels are simply far too high to produce a viable soldier… they would be strong, they would be smart, they would be fast but they would be out of control. They would destroy us and anyone else who got in their way… with female subjects, the hormones were balanced and tempered… we can contain their inner daemons and they will be susceptible to commands and control. It is the perfect soldier… just not Winston Churchill’s idea of the perfect soldier…”
He stared at me in amazement… sure women were used for war to a degree… they made excellent spies, the Germans never suspected a woman capable of such feats… but to put women into the fray? Right into the heart of battle? That was a hard pill to swallow… The conversation raged back and forth for another two hours, General Boche questioning all of my findings and reasoning, probing for a fault, for a weakness, after all, he saw women as weak, why wouldn’t a genetically modified woman be just as weak? Eventually he asked for some time to discuss the matter with his second in command
“Do you speak French Gemma?” he asked. During the many hours our conversation ranged from we became quite informal and even shared a splendid 25 year old Irish Whiskey, so him calling me Gemma didn’t take me by surprise
“I’m afraid not Boche” I replied
“Me and my second would like to discuss a few things in private, would you be offended if we used our native tongues?” he asked
“Not at all Boche, I am a guest, feel free to act as you please” His second was an odd man named Dupree. He was small and wiry with a large nose and gigantic ears, it was as if a garden gnome came to life, shed some weight and joined the Canadian Army… but he did seem infused with my ideas, I was hopeful he would put Boche’s doubts at ease… I felt I could trust him, after all it was Dupree that got me an audience with Boche in the first place. Yes. I know I could trust him.
Boche: ”Je ne sais pas… pouvons-nous lui faire confiance? C’est quand même beaucoup d’argent à donner à une fille… et ce, même si elle a de jolis seins…”
Dupree: “Tout ira bien patron, faites-moi confiance! Vous ai-je déjà laissé tomber auparavant?”
Boche: ”Tu te souviens de la fois avec la troupe de danse Suédoise? Je paie encore pour la foutue allocation!”
Dupree: “Alons allons patron… ce n’est tout de même pas comme si vous ne vous étiez pas amusé non? De plus, si ceci ne fonctionne pas, nous pourrons toujours tuer la fille et blamer le tout sur les États-Unis! Faites-moi confiance patron, tout ira bien!”
Boche: “Bon… ça va… mais je t’averti, si ça va mal, c’est toi qui ramasse le tout!”
“OK Gemma… you will have what you need, first you shall create one soldier who will be tested fully and comprehensively… and if she fights as you say she will, then we shall roll on with the project” he said and I breathed a sigh of relief… almost a year of dodging the attentions of the Nazi’s as I travelled the globe looking for funding and I’ve finally found it. I can fulfil my destiny…
Some time laterI lived in the lab… sure I had quarters outside of the lab but they only served for sleep. The lab was a large white room, probably 100 meters in a perfect circle in all. The ceiling was high and had large florescent tubes lighting us although there was natural light in the form of small rectangular windows about 12ft of the floor running all the way around the room. The tiles were a light, off white colour and were cleaned and polished to a high sheen. The room was littered with tanks and cupboards along side many long, stainless steel tables.. The tables and scientific equipment made up the centre of the room and all around the centre was what we called the training grounds. A boxing ring, sparing mats, gym equipment, a firing range, a class room and encircling it all was a running track. There was even a bed here and a recreational area for our creation. She would live eat sleep and breath her entire childhood here as we moulded her into greatness.
The tests had gone fantastic, we grew the subject in a oxygen enriched gel that served to feed the embryo as well as allow for growth… it is a strange process… seeing the subject grow, not in a womb, but before your very eyes… we went through quite a few lab assistants, many calling my work an affront to god but I eventually found an assistant I could rely on… well… I say rely on… I could rely on her not to run away screaming. As for her competencies… lets just say she lacked a certain level of expertise I’m used to in an assistant. But she could carry stuff and make a fierce burrito, so I kept her around.
Her name was Jonica and she was a cute little thing… her white/blonde hair all spiky and exotic, her cute southern drawl and her rather pert arse… I was more than a little confused by her… I’d never been in a relationship or been at all interested in one. I simply didn’t find men attractive. I’d use sex to get what I needed from time to time, but what woman hasn’t? but Jonica… I felt attracted to her… well, her body at least. Her head was far to empty for it’s own good. She had a cuteness to her that was hard to resist. We would have to wear the same clothes every day, without fail. The military provided us with them and we had to dress in front of them. They wanted a totally safe and clean zone and I admired their dedication for it.
I wore a knee length grey skirt that was awfully itchy, flat black shoes and a white blouse underneath my white lab coat. Jonica of course wore the same but I couldn’t help but feel she carried it off better… I was drawn to her… every morning she’d great me the same “Oh! You went for the Grey skirt today! I love that look on you” and I’d blush and carry on working whilst my mind thought of sinful things I’d like to do to her…But none of that is important right now… Right now I’m going to tell you about Project Marie…
Jonica had taken to calling the embryo Marie instead of it’s correct title subject 1.0. My title was far more efficient but General Boche sided with Jonica and Marie stuck. Marie grew as planned at an enhanced rate, within a week becoming a baby and birthing from the gelatinous home she once had. She did not cry as she breathed in for the first time. Crying was a weakness and she had none. A week passed but for Marie 7 days was 7 years, my genetic programming and scientific breakthrough culminating in her reaching adolescence in break neck speed. Her body was forming perfectly, short and supple but with an enhanced muscle structure. At 14 days/years Marie had the strength of a 200lbs boxer. At 17 she could leap 10 metres at ease, her small supple frame providing the agility and fineness a male soldier could never have achieved. She had proved my reasoning correct and I loved her for that. The day arrived. Her 21st birthday where her advanced growth had fulfilled it’s purpose and stopped, her aging returned to normal and she became the complete soldier
Marie could speak 24 languages, she could out punch the heavyweight champion, she knew 17 different forms of self defence and uncountable ways to kill a Nazi, she was smart, caring, dangerously witty and a master of seduction. She was the greatest woman to ever live…
As the year passed she travelled the world, dispatching the Nazi high command one by one, she became an expert at subterfuge and stealth, she planted misinformation and lies throughout the Nazi strategists and because of her, the charge into Russia failed. With Russia safe, Canada was safe. General Boche was most pleased. We created the greatest soldier on the planet and were winning the war single handed… and nobody knew she existed.
You may think that strange… after all, why did Boche only make one soldier it the project worked so well? That is because it didn’t. My greatest success also created my greatest failure…
Where Marie was strong the failure was weak
Where Marie was righteous the failure was sinful
Where Marie had virtue the failure had wickedness
Where Marie brought joy the failure brought misery
And she revelled in my misery… Jonica gave my failure a name and that name would be a stain on my character for the rest of my days… the holder of that name dedicated every waking moment terrorising me and blaming me for her shortcomings… and that failure… that name…
That name was Marie B
At first we were shocked as twins were produced, I first thought that as my genetic coding was designed to create the most efficient living creature ever, it was simply mirroring it’s efficiency and doubling it‘s productivity, but on day 3 when the subjects began to talk I realised the difference right away, where Marie would ask inquisitive questions to study and learn her environment, Marie B would ask for pretzels, or sweets or anything else her heart desired. She was an awful child made all the worse as she had the wits and cunning of a master sleuth. At aged 7 she set up a snare trap because I wouldn’t let her play hockey in the lab… I hung upside down from the labs high ceiling for 7 hours, Jonica would have cut me down but she was already taken out by having a paint can wedged on her head so tight we needed a surgeon to remove it. She lacked her sisters strength but made up for it in evil cunning. We would be gone for 5 minutes and when we returned every table in the room would be upside down… we knew she didn’t have the strength to do that, it was Marie… despite her noble ways, she could not deny her sister a single request, the bond was quite powerful considering at this point they’d only known each other for 7 days… it led me to believe there may be something uncharted in the relationship of twins… I would need to study that in the future.
Her childish ways were an annoyance… but nothing compared to puberty… I’d never heard a grown woman call a little child a cxnt before, but the things Marie B did to Jonica… I’m afraid to say that the little cxnt deserved it… She toyed with Jonica because she knew she could, she saw her as beneath her (and in fairness, I imagined Jonica beneath me quite a few times…) but me… for me it was different. I was slowly getting the impression that one day Marie B would plan on killing me… I’m not sure why I felt that…
Maybe it was the cross bow rigged up to pierce my heart when I went to the toilet…
Maybe it was the scorpions she put in my running shoes…
Maybe it was the highly potent virus she tried to inject me with…
Maybe it was the time she told me “Gemma… I plan on killing you one day…”
I can’t be sure, but I suspect I’m right.
We survived puberty, just about, except Jonica has one kidney now… it’s a long story… but nether the less, we lived to tell the tale. Marie B started to calm down slightly after that, and that was worrying. Where as before she would scream and curse at us, now she stared at us through malevolent eyes… she was 18 now and quite beautiful. She had long blonde hair that framed her delicate features, her body was lithe and agile, toned and supple and oh so very pert. As I said she lacked her sisters super strength but her vast intellect made her a great fighter none the less, she was an expert at using flawless technique to compensate for her small stature. I found out first hand when she learned the secret behind her small stature.
Marie & Marie B both came up to me and posed me a question…
“Creator?” Marie asked
“Don’t call her that! She’s a bitch! Address her as bitch” Marie B scowled
“Creator?” Marie continued to her sisters annoyance “Why are we 4’11” tall? wouldn’t a super soldier be more fierce if she were taller?”
“That is a good question Marie, you see, you are that tall because I programmed you that way. The Nazi’s will question and suspect a tall powerful warrior, you now have the element of surprise. You can go un-noticed, unquestioned where ever you please. Your opponents perception of you shall be your greatest weapon” I answered
“Oh…” Marie replied a smile across her face “I like that! Thank you creator”
Marie B wasn’t so impressed with my answer, I could tell as I was staring at the flaw doubled over after a particularly vicious kick to my crotch.
“YOU FUCKING BITCH!!! I can’t reach the cookie jar because you programmed me not to? I’ll kill you!!!” she screamed and slammed a right hook into my temple. The world went blurry, her mastery was astounding! I’m no slouch when it comes to self defence, you have to know how to handle yourself when travelling across this world full of dangers… but Marie B had the ability to put her entire 90lb body in exactly the right position to inflict the maximum amount of damage, if it wasn’t for her temperament, she would be a tremendous asset to the war effort. Of course I wasn’t thinking that back then… I was thinking why is the floor coming towards me?
Her axe kick levelled me and slammed me face first into the light coloured sanitised tiles. My right eye was cut and blood started to pour out. I was in a bad way and were it not for Marie I’d probably be dead. Marie shared her sisters flawless technique but had it coupled with a body that was 5 times stronger so she subdued Marie B quite quickly while Jonica called the paramedics.
We stopped Marie B’s combat training after that, she had already became a master at boxing, kick boxing and wrestling, I didn’t like the idea of her becoming any more competent in all the wonderful manners in which she could kill me… She of course resented me for it, blaming me rather than coming to the realisation that her own actions have consequences.
When she hit 21 it was time for her sister to go. We were all worried for her, it was a dangerous world after all and despite my complete confidence in her, the mind can’t help but play on the ‘what ifs’ but that soon passed and my mind began to worry about other ‘What ifs’… such as what if Marie B decides to kill me… I increased my fitness regime and martial training with the Canadian Armed Forces just in case but 3 months passed without too much incident… she would attack me and render me unconscious but would let me live time and time again. It was like a cat toying with a mouse at first but soon after I started to question whether she really had the bottle to carry out her earlier threat. Maybe she had grown some sick connection to me… It was me after all who created her, but I decided in the end that she just loved to see me cry. She would lock me in some vicious wrestling hold and apply terrible pressure to various joints, never permanently hurting me but always enough to make me black out through the pain after a good long scream. She seemed to favour hurting my legs, maybe a way of getting back at her height issues…
Her attacks started to intensify, it was as if she was probing me, testing me, seeing what would make me lose my calm, and you’d be surprised to know I never attacked back, sure I’d block and try to escape but I didn’t strike her once. Jonica wasn’t so bound by my ethics and could quite often be heard screaming some obscenities at her in English or French while throwing wild punches at Marie B… Unfortunately one day Jonica actually managed to hit Marie B… that was the day everything got turned upside down…
