# 1: Pain

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He hurt.

That was and unusual sensation for him. He’d been told that he had an abnormally high pain threshold. High enough that he could have his teeth filled with no anesthetic. Not that he’d ever HAD his teeth filled, that was another odd thing about him, he had no cavities. He was also never sick.

So why did he hurt....? Hazy memory. Jungle fog and explosions. He and his team had been on a routine patrol when they stumbled upon a whole COMPANY of NVA. It was an ambush. The NVA had it set for someone else but they were more than happy to destroy a covert ops team. Jim, Billy and Joe died right there. They barely had time to raise their rifles. He’d been “lucky’. He wasn’t quite into the kill zone and he’d bent down to duck below a low hanging branch when the shit hit the fan. He’d been right behind Hank. Hank had been behind Tracy.

Tracy had taken a round or two of something BIG in the chest and died instantly. What was left of Tracy's body was blown backwards knocking Hank down. Hank had fallen right on top of him. Protecting him. Shielding him.

After that the memory faded in and out. The prominent features were Hank and pain. Hank was badly injured and couldn’t walk. He’d carried Hank out of there...on his back or dragging him as need be. Had to. Hank was his buddy. Leave no man behind. He wished he could have taken his other squad mates too but they were in pieces...scattered all around. Hank wasn’t LOTS better. No legs. Hank couldn’t run with no legs. Tourniquets had stopped the bleeding and their combined supply of morphine had stopped the screaming...but then he had no pain killers for his own wounds.....

…..he’d been carrying Hank....and listening to talk. He’d listened to Hank talk a lot back at the base. Hank had a lot to talk about. Hank had had a life. He’d hadn’t had a father and mother either, like himself who’d been brought up in a creche by the government. But Hank had been raised in an orphanage and even had children to play with. He hadn’t. Not really. In fact he was hazy about the term “play”. Everything he’d ever done had been planned, by someone else, to the minute....to the last detail. He’d constantly asked Tracy questions and Hank had been more than happy to reply. Hank apparently enjoyed talking to him. Telling him about his life...and society.

He barely recalled his own childhood. What there was of it. Training. Always training. The big people had been constantly pushing...pushing. He recalled that there had been others like him in the beginning. Slowly however their numbers had grown smaller, and smaller. Finally They all went away. For a long time it was only him.

That was before the Pain....

He had been carrying Hank waist deep thru mucky swamp when he’d heard voices....

...speaking English.

Next Episode
# 2 :They’d made it.…

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