Strands of Fate

by R F Hurteau

  “Trying to what?”

  Gavin wondered what the Weaver had been doing inside CEDAR. Trying to sabotage it? “Is he okay?”

  But Ollie appeared not to hear his questions.

  The young man was staring down at his cup, his eyes glazed. He made a strange sound which Gavin soon realized was a snore.

  “What did you give him?” Gavin demanded of Onyx, his frustration evident. He wanted to shake the answers out of Ollie, if that was what it would take. “He was about to tell us something!”

  “How was I supposed to know?”

  Onyx gave him a warning look as she lay Ollie down on his side. “He’s not in a good way, Gavin. He needs rest. Your questions will have to wait.”

  He knew she was right, but at the same time he felt slighted. They should have questioned him before letting him sleep.

  He watched the sleeping figure for a moment longer before joining Onyx in the kitchen where she was rigging some sort of an IV, a length of tubing waiting beside a large pot of water set to boil, several jars spread across the tabletop.

  “The only thing I miss about Imradia is having access to decent medical supplies!”

  Onyx spoke in low tones of quiet anger, taking out her frustration by slamming a jar full of white powder down so hard that it erupted into a tiny cloud. “Everything here is so much harder than it needs to be.”

  “I’m certain you’ll make do.”

  She continued to rage, as quietly as possible, around the kitchen.

  “Besides, how would you deal with your anger issues if things didn’t require a little extra effort?”

  “I don’t have anger issues!” Onyx snapped haughtily, knocking the now boiling pot with her elbow as she whirled around to glare at him. “I’m just concerned, that’s all!”

  “I know.” Gavin spoke softly.

  He wondered what Ollie would have to tell them when he awoke. “So am I.”

  Three

  Grade A Lab Grown Beef

  MABEL had stuck to her stubborn resolve, and it had been three days since Eli had eaten anything of substance.

  Now that his vial of magic pills was finally empty, he’d hoped to arrive downstairs to find breakfast being prepared.

  Instead, his sister was sitting cross-legged on the overstuffed armchair with a piece of buttered toast in one hand and a triumphant smirk on her face.

  When he discovered that hers was the last of the bread he slunk, defeated, to the kitchen to search for something else to eat.

  A cheery tone indicating that a message had been received ended his rummaging, and he and Mabel looked up at the viewer as one.

  “Maybe it’s a message from mom and dad,” he suggested hopefully. “It’s been a while since we’ve heard from them, hasn’t it?”

  Eli was trying to sound casual as he made his way over to block her view of the notification, but Mabel was faster.

  She sprang up from her seat like a leaping grasshopper and beat him there, pressing her whole hand against the screen to unlock it.

  The viewer went white before crisp black words appeared. Eli scanned them, letting out an involuntary groan as he did so.

  “Disturbing the common peace?” Mabel exclaimed, throwing her hands up.

  Eli was not surprised that the formal reprimand had shown up. He was only surprised at how long it had taken to arrive.

  He’d almost begun to hope that his ill-advised Ross Day outburst had gone unreported.

  He should have known better.

  “I told you!” Mabel said, whirling on him. “I told you we were going to get into trouble!”

  “Relax,” Eli said, though his own stomach was tight and his appetite had vanished. “We aren’t in trouble. Just me. See?”

  He pointed to the top of the notice, where the name Eli Harper stood out in bold font under the heading, “Disciplinary Warning #2.”

  “I can’t believe you did this to us again ,” Mabel continued in frustration, stalking back to her chair and slumping down there.

  “Hey,” he protested, “last time wasn’t my fault, and you know it!”

  “Eli, you can’t keep going like this!”

  He sighed. Her accusations were unfair.

  “And we can’t keep arguing about it. What’s done is done. I’ll do better.”

  His words were met with silence and he felt his own frustration welling up in his chest.

  “What do you want me to say, Mabel? I can’t take it back.”

  She shot him a concerned look.

  “Val Int doesn’t look kindly on kids who don’t follow the rules, Eli. They don’t care what rule you break, it’s all the same to them. We’ve seen it before. There isn’t a “you’re” in trouble or an “I’m” in trouble...this affects our whole family. And don’t pretend like you didn’t know that when you opened your mouth to give that little speech. Don’t pretend you didn’t realize what it might cost us.”

  Eli felt torn. Half of him wanted to console Mabel, apologize, and assure her that everything would be all right.

  The other half wanted to rail against Val Int, feeling self-righteous and justified and certain he’d done nothing wrong.

  He glanced at the viewer again, checking the clock in the corner.

  “I’ve got to get going,” he said. “We’ll talk about this later, okay?”

  Mabel made an unsatisfied, resentful sound and went back to her toast, not offering him so much as a farewell as he left.

  The Maglev was more crowded this morning. He was joined in his compartment by several other corporate orphans, all on their way to their various apprenticeships.

  Eli had been assigned to Next Level, a branch of Val Int’s vast military complex. He was thankful that he had not been drafted into the actual ranks of the military, the only thing that made him grateful for his scrawny, unathletic build.

  Of course, the corporate version of a standing army was rarely the chosen assignment for someone of Eli’s status regardless, as they were essentially mercenaries, but he might have been chosen if they’d stayed in the city. That was a prestigious, sought-after job that paid well, and wasn’t intended for the rabble.

  Eli worked instead in the research and development center, training under the head scientist of their stealth technology division. He might have even found it somewhat interesting, if not for two minor details. The first being that he knew the only reason Val Int had a military was to subdue and intimidate those rare pockets of civilization that still opposed the new order.

  The second was simply that his supposed mentor, Leonard Farway, did not treat his apprentices as students, but rather more like glorified errand boys.

  Which, Eli supposed, made sense. He was not, after all, training to be an actual scientist. He was only required to know enough of the lingo to assist in setting up, breaking down, and participating in different experiments.

  “Ah, Elroy, good of you to finally show up,” Leonard declared sardonically as Eli entered the dank basement space that passed for the stealth department’s main laboratory.

  His words caused Eli to look back down at the sign-in sheet to confirm his arrival time. “I’m fifteen minutes early,” he replied with quiet defensiveness.

  “Yes, well, it may behoove you to show a little initiative now and again. Many of my apprentices in the past have made the effort to show up as much as an hour early for their shifts. Perhaps I would be more inclined to share the secrets of my craft if you were more inclined to show some respect.”

  Eli bit his lip on a sarcastic reply. He highly doubted that Farway’s prior apprentices had gone to the trouble to show up early and work late, especially considering that they weren’t being paid to do so.

  In fact, Eli would not be surprised if these delusional expectations were the reason Farway never seemed to keep apprentices very long. His mentor had complained on several occasions how difficult it was to find, and keep, good help.

  “Come, come, Elroy, we have a busy day ahead of us. How do you ex
pect me to get anything done in this environment?”

  “It’s Eli,” Eli stated automatically, knowing it was no use as he looked around the corner office space with a sigh.

  Farway had about as much interest in remembering his actual name as he had in keeping up with some semblance of organization—that is to say, none at all.

  The long desk had plenty of space to keep things in order. Most of the stealth department work was done on the computer. Yet Farway insisted on scribbling notes, which he then proceeded to spread across the desk like some bizarre art project.

  Pencil shavings and leaking pens were scattered amongst crumpled papers along the width of the workspace. A tall stack of papers teetered precariously on the edge, and pulling it away revealed a half-eaten pastry stuck to the underside of the topmost page.

  Eli’s stomach rumbled, and he might have found the treat tempting if he weren’t so repulsed by Farway and everything that involved him. He resigned himself to clearing the space, convinced that his mentor had simply emptied the contents of the wastebasket onto the desk before he arrived, just to spite him.

  “When you’ve finished with that, Elroy, be a sport and hop on over to the cafeteria. They’re serving some of that fancy new Nutrifish that was unveiled on Ross Day. I’m excited to try it.”

  Eli stifled a groan, rolling his eyes at the back of Farway’s rumpled lab coat.

  This was the type of “training” he received most days...how to fetch snacks for the great and powerful one.

  The cafeteria was located on the opposite side of the campus. Eli was accustomed to the two-mile walk, but given the sensitive nature of Next Level’s work, it required him to pass through a half-dozen security checkpoints.

  On occasion, he could catch a ride on a transport vehicle, but they were small and generally filled with those more vital to Next Level than himself. Eli’s uniform, a pale grey shirt and khakis that had given up on life several months ago, served as a beacon that underscored his unimportance.

  Trying to flag a transport down was rarely worth the effort.

  Still, Farway’s lab smelled like mildew and sapped the soul like a dry sponge dipped in water. He supposed there were worse ways to spend the next few hours than trekking back and forth across the campus.

  He finished cleaning off the desk and hurried toward the door before Farway had the chance to make another mess.

  The atmosphere at Next Level always made Eli feel as though suspicious eyes were watching him. Mabel called it paranoia, but Eli preferred to think of it as situational awareness.

  Long, low buildings stretched out ahead of him and on either side, the bright light of another sunny day accentuating the rough stucco walls with tiny shadows that pooled in the dimpled surface. Unadorned concrete pathways, narrow and barren, wove between the windowless facilities, reminding Eli of a rat maze.

  And here he was, the rat.

  When the small alley he was in gave way to a yard where several activities were taking place at once, he felt himself breathing a little easier. Although aesthetically the yards were no more appealing than the claustrophobic alleys, the dull landscape here gave him a calming sense of openness.

  He ducked his head low, focusing on the toes of his boots as he walked, not wanting to attract any attention to himself.

  “Watch it!”

  There was a blinding light from somewhere on his left, and a blast of heat hit Eli like a physical blow, knocking him backward.

  Caught off guard, he felt his head make contact with the pavement, causing a wave of nausea to roll over him.

  Eli threw up his hands to protect his eyes but the light faded as quickly as it had come, leaving his vision swimming in its wake. He blinked several times as the blurry figure of a man jogged up to him, reaching out with one hand to help him to his feet.

  “Sorry about that,” the man offered as Eli rubbed at his eyes in an attempt to clear his sight. “You all right?”

  “I think so,” Eli muttered. “What was that?”

  “A prototype.” The man hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “White solar. Heard of it?”

  “No,” answered Eli with a grimace.

  The man chuckled. “Yeah, figures. It’s only in the beginning stages. Part of the Belenus project. Man, I can’t believe they unveiled that, can you? It’s nowhere near ready. Anyway, we were just setting up the panels and one slipped and caught the sun. Didn’t mean to blast you like that. You know, you really ought to be more aware of your surroundings. Anyway, though—”

  “Listen,” Eli cut in brusquely, squinting at the man. Though the details were still fuzzy, he was able to make out the uniform well enough. The tan jacket and fitted black shirt...military trainee.

  Not someone Eli should be treating with disrespect, lest he call down the wrath of the man’s companions.

  “I was just on my way...running an errand,” he finished, the words sounding lame as they escaped his lips.

  “You sure you’re okay? You look a bit off.”

  You just blasted me off my feet, what do you expect?

  But Eli didn’t say that. “Yeah,” he said instead “I should be alright.”

  When he turned to continue on his way the world started to spin and as he staggered the man reached out to steady him.

  “I said, I’m fine.”

  “I think you ought to get checked out. Here, let me go with you to the infirmary. Least I can do, I mean I am the one who dropped my end and knocked you on your backside.”

  Eli tried to decide which prospect was less appealing; being poked and prodded in the infirmary or returning to Leonard Farway’s lab empty-handed. He did feel a little dizzy, and he wasn’t sure if his feet could carry him much further on his intrepid journey.

  “All right,” he conceded after a moment, making up his mind.

  “My name’s Shane,” the man said as he helped Eli into the passenger seat of his transport vehicle.

  “Eli,” he replied, rubbing the back of his head. There was no blood, but he could feel a decent-sized bump beginning to form.

  It seemed that Shane enjoyed listening to himself talk, because Eli offered very little in the way of conversation on the way to the infirmary.

  “Listen, I really am sorry about that,” Shane said, glancing over at his passenger. “Where are you assigned? I’ll drop you off and get one of the guys to go let your team know what happened.”

  “Stealth tech. Under Leonard Farway.”

  Shane nodded, his lips pursed and his brow furrowed.

  “I’ve heard of Doctor Farway. They say he’s a real basket case. Stays down in that dungeon he calls a lab all day, muttering to himself. That true?”

  He scrunched up his face into a grimace. “Never mind, I’m sure you wouldn’t tell me if it were. Not the kind of thing you want people hearing you say about your boss. Hmm. Do a lot of interesting work down there?”

  When Eli hesitated, Shane held up a hand. “Of course, that’s a stupid question, too. Probably not supposed to talk about it, am I right? Most of us aren’t. That’s the trouble with Next Level work. Can’t ever go home and chat about your day!”

  Even if I could, I wouldn’t want to, Eli thought as Shane continued, as cheerful as ever.

  “But! I can talk about Belenus now that it’s been made public knowledge.”

  He looked over at Eli, perhaps looking for some sign that his riding companion was intrigued.

  But Eli’s head hurt, and his expression, he hoped, conveyed as much.

  “Well, here we are,” Shane said, pulling up to the Infirmary building. “You want me to help you inside?”

  “No.” Eli stepped gingerly down from the transport. “I think I can manage.”

  “I’ll be sure to let Farway know where you’re at. Might be neat to see what they’re up to down in ol’ stealth tech. See you around, Eli!”

  With that, Shane drove off, leaving Eli lingering outside the infirmary door, thinking about the odd encounter. The door slid open an
d, with a sigh, he stepped inside.

  The nurse on duty was trailed by a young corporate orphan dressed in the same grey and khaki uniform that Eli wore.

  She looked familiar, her hair parted into two neat blond plaits that trailed over her shoulders and almost reached the pile of sheets she was cradling in her arms.

  She was following the sour-faced nurse around the tiny exam room with a nervous expression like a jittery shadow, avoiding making eye contact with Eli.

  Several times the woman spun on her heel unexpectedly, causing the poor young girl to scurry back a few steps in order to avoid a full-on collision.

  The nurse, dressed in pale green scrubs, had a neat white apron tied in a perfect bow that cut into the ample girth of her waist, perhaps contributing to her irritable mood. Her cap sat neatly atop hair pulled back into a bun so tight it was probably giving her a headache.

  She acted as if the assisting girl wasn’t even there, and likely would have treated Eli the same had he not been the actual patient.

  In fact, as he waited for the harried woman to speak with him, he reflected on his interaction with Shane, the military recruit. The nurse’s reaction was normal, expected. Shane’s had been…unusual.

  He was trying to figure out if the young man friendliness had been genuine, or if he’d hit his head harder than he’d thought. It wasn’t that Eli was mistreated by everyone he met...just most people.

  He wouldn’t have expected such friendly concern from a military man, even if his injury was Shane’s fault. Usually, those types didn’t give corporate orphans the time of day.

  His eyes roamed across the poster-covered wall, skimming the propaganda with mild curiosity and coming to rest on the same poster he’d seen on Ross Day, looking for clinical trial volunteers.

  Just seeing it again made him scowl.

  “Don’t you look at me like that,” the nurse chided, turning to catch him mid-scowl and misinterpreting the target of his disgust. “You’ll be fine, and there’s no need to bother the doctor for this obvious ploy to get sent home early. Perhaps a minor concussion, at most. Hardly worth all this fuss.”

  She shook her head, not bothering to hide her disdain.