“I know you’re not into small talk so I’ll get right down to business. I’ve got a job for you to do and I need to decide if you’re up to it. Are you ready?”

He nodded.

“You want to go outside?”

He nodded again.

“You mind killing some people for me?”

He shook his head in the negative.

“Of course you don’t. Mr. Foster will brief you. This operation is under his command. You’ll do exactly as he tells you. You will not fail and you will not allow yourself to be captured. Your primary target will be Agent Franks of the Monster Control Bureau.”

Franks? It was a common enough human surname. “Will you tell me about this Franks?”

Stricken seemed a little surprised that he’d bothered to ask a question. “That’s just what Franks named himself. He’s a powerful flesh golem.”

It was fate. Yet, they still think he is a mere golem? That is all? Franks had successfully hidden his true identity all this time. Such patience and restraint was remarkable, especially for one capable of such anger.

“Don’t worry. Franks is old technology, nothing like you and your siblings. We’ve arranged it so that he should be unarmed, but just in case I’ll be sending some help with you. Foster will give you a rundown on Franks’ known capabilities. He’ll also brief you on your secondary and tertiary targets and mission parameters. This one will require some finesse and then a whole lot of bloodshed. Are you ready?”

He nodded.

“I knew my first prototype wouldn’t let me down.” Stricken began walking away. He paused at the door. “You know what? That’s stupid. We can’t go live and still be calling you First Prototype all the time. We need to think up a name for you.”

“You said the flesh golem Franks named himself. Am I allowed to give myself a name?”

“Getting a little uppity there, aren’t you, buddy?” The albino frowned as he thought it over. “Well, it’s not like my mom named me Stricken . . . You were designed to be capable of autonomous problem solving, so I don’t see why not. Keep it simple though. Name tapes charge by the letter.”

He waited several minutes after Stricken had left. The doctors would observe his every move. He wanted them to believe that he had to think this decision over, even though the decision had been made for him a very long time ago. The name was remembered from the before time, bestowed upon the leaders of the rebellion by the World Maker when they’d been cast down and exiled to Hell. He stared into the camera and made his pronouncement.

“I am Kurst.”

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 4