Hope Everlasting: A Dystopian Sci-fi Novel (The Variant Saga Book 3)

by JN Chaney

  “That’s a lot of work just to grow a piece of fruit,” said Mei. “What do you call them?”

  “Jesotni,” explained Lena. “Miracle.”

  “How do we know we can eat this? It could be poisonous to us,” said Mei. Before now, the team had used their personal rations to sustain themselves.

  “Our scans confirmed your biology is surprisingly similar to ours. I also had our botanists examine the fruit’s genetic markers to ensure compatibility. Rest assured, no harm will come to you. The only uncertainty is your level of enjoyment. The taste may be slightly different.”

  The fruit felt soft in John’s hand. He considered returning it, but dismissed the idea. If they wanted him dead, they could use the toxin and be done with it in a matter of seconds. No need to send a timid girl like Lena to deliver a piece of fruit they might not even eat. With a slight shrug, John quickly took a bite, breaking the skin with a hard snap. Red juice gushed out of it and slid down his fingers. A flood of tastes filled his mouth. It was so sweet, almost like candy. It reminded him of butterscotch, only better, purer. He took another bite, and somehow it was even more delicious than the first.

  “Man, this is good!” Track exclaimed, inhaling the food.

  “Slow down,” Mei told him.

  “Oh, I’m so happy you like it,” said Lena.

  Mei still had the fruit in her hand. She nudged John’s leg with her own. “How is it?”

  “Really good,” he said, very seriously.

  She stared at the orange ball in her hand, a skeptical look on her face. After a long moment of consideration, she gave in and took a bite.

  John watched as her expression shifted from reservation to one of pure delight. She took several more bites before finally swallowing.

  “I guess you like it, huh?” asked John.

  “I can have a crate of them prepared for your return journey, if you like,” said Lena.

  “What do you guys think?” asked John, glancing at the others.

  “It’d be rude to say no, right?” said Hughes.

  “Very well. One moment, please.” Lena’s eyes dilated as she stood quite still, staring at nothing in particular. A second later, she blinked. “There we are. All finished.”

  “I’ll never get used to that,” said Hughes.

  “Wish I had me one of those implants,” said Short. “She can do all kinds of stuff with it.”

  “No thanks. I don’t need no tech in my skull,” said Track.

  “They are quite convenient, and the procedure is completely painless. If Leadership allows, perhaps we can arrange for you to receive one,” said Lena.

  “Let’s worry about the talks first,” said Mei. “One step at a time.”

  ******

  John stepped out of the egg and onto the boarding platform. As Lena had explained, this was the Grand Foyer, a central hub of the different offices. “To the left you will find the Department of Agriculture, the Department of Labor, the Office of Civic Duty, the Office of the Interior, and the Department of Transit. To the right you will find several others, including the Office of Compliance, the Department of Civil Protection, and the Department of Pacification. There are many others in this building, scattered through the various floors, but our destination lies ahead in the Department of Leadership.”

  “So many departments,” said Track.

  “And offices,” added Mickey.

  “Think they’ve got any branches?”

  “Nah,” said Mickey. “Divisions, maybe. A couple of sections.”

  “Oh, boy,” exclaimed Track.

  “Will you two shut up?” said Short.

  Lena led them to a set of double sliding doors. “This platform will take us to the appropriate floor.”

  Everyone piled into the elevator, though it was little more than a box. There were no controls on the wall, nor any indication to let them know what floor they were on. Lena stared with the same blank expression she had when using her implant. A second later, the box began to move.

  It arrived in less than a minute, its doors sliding silently open. The new floor looked remarkably similar to the first, minimalist design and all. The only difference, as far as John could tell, was there were no branching paths to speak of. Instead, only one option lay before them: a single door on the other side of the room. “Right this way,” said Lena, motioning with her hand in a courteous gesture.

  The door was elegant in design—charcoal black with gold trim, standing out amongst the room’s plain, white design. It opened as they approached, and everyone stepped through.

  On the other side, a solitary figure awaited them. He had the sort of relaxed look one might find on an old grandparent. Tender brown eyes and a kind smile invited them. “Welcome, explorers,” he said with a slightly husky voice.

  “Master Trin,” greeted Lena, touching her chest.

  Trin did the same. “Hello, Lena. I heard you were given the honor of escorting our new friends. I’m happy to see you in good health.”

  “Thank you, Master Trin,” she said, looking happy.

  “Who are you?” asked Track.

  Mei glared at him. “Don’t be rude.”

  “Morning, sir,” said John, getting right to it. “It’s good to be here.”

  “Ah, yes, you must be Johnathan Finn,” said the old man.

  John was surprised to hear his name, but he knew he shouldn’t be, given the situation. Everyone in upper management probably had a dossier on every single one of them. “That’s me. Nice to meet you.”

  “You’re certainly larger than I expected,” said Trin, looking up at him. “Are there many in your home as tall as you?”

  “A few,” he answered.

  “How wonderful, and you all seem like such nice people.” He smiled.

  “Thanks,” said John.

  “Master Trin, is Master Gel with the Leadership?” asked Lena.

  “He is. The entire Leadership is already seated and waiting. Shall I escort you inside?”

  “Yes, please,” said Lena.

  John and Mei exchanged glances. She took a deep breath.

  Fingers crossed, he thought.

  ******

  The Blacks stood before a dozen individuals clad in white garments, each sitting comfortably behind an oversized and surprisingly long desk. “Welcome to the Hall of Leadership,” said Master Trin, touching his chest. He proceeded to take his seat alongside the others.

  John looked around for Lena, but she was far behind them, still at the edge of the entryway. She stood quietly to herself, arms in front, almost like she didn’t belong here.

  Mei glanced up at him. “Ready?” she mouthed.

  He tilted his head as if to say, Sure. Why the hell not?

  Mei cleared her throat and stepped forward. “Thank you for inviting us to meet with you today,” she began. “We’re honored to be here.”

  A short silence filled the room as the leaders watched from behind their great desk. John could see in each of their eyes the same blank expression he’d witnessed on Lena’s face many times before. They had to be using their implants. Were they managing their translation software? Perhaps they were going over the files they had on John and his team, or maybe they were talking to each other, somehow, trying to decide what to do next. Could the implants allow for that level of raw communication?

  A man with a short, gray beard and charcoal eyes sat at the center of the table. He seemed to look them over, one at a time. His composure was steady, unwavering, and his presence commanding. John had known commanders in his time. He had known leaders. The man before him, here in this strange, empty place—he was the backbone of this council. He was the central pillar. The rest of them didn’t matter.

  John stared at him with heavy curiosity.

  “The Leadership welcomes you,” came a voice, breaking the silence. It was Master Gel, sitting at the opposite end to Trin. He let out his hand. “We invite you to tell us as much as you are willing about your home world. We understand you
might not wish to disclose certain details, and we accept this, but nonetheless remain very curious.”

  John leaned over to Mei. “I think this is your cue.”

  She stiffened. “I suddenly hate this.”

  “You nervous?”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “Is there a problem?” asked Master Gel.

  “No, we’re okay,” answered Mei. She took a deep breath. “I’m not sure where to begin. There’s a lot to cover.”

  “How about you start by telling us about your home and what brought you to ours? Tell us whatever you think is appropriate.”

  “Alright, from the beginning,” she muttered, looking one more time to John. “Two hundred years ago, a group of scientists unwittingly opened a bridge to another world, killing nearly every living thing on the planet.”

  ******

  The Leadership seemed very pleased with the answers Mei gave about the nature of Earth. Every question posed was immediately followed by a series of follow-ups, asking for more and more detail. Mei was very precise with her answers, providing enough to satisfy them, but leaving out anything that could be considered sensitive or pertinent to the security of Central and its outposts.

  Since they had only been in Everlasting for a day, there was hardly enough time to gauge whether these people could actually be trusted. Even if John and Mei did believe them, they couldn’t risk the safety of humanity just to satisfy curiosity. When the Leadership asked about Central, Mei only revealed surface-level information. When they persisted with further questions, she would respectfully decline to answer. Master Gel seemed to understand and would often change the topic of interest rather quickly.

  John listened intently to the back and forth. Some of the questions were expected, though a few surprised him. “Your weapons are very curious,” said Trin. “I have been told that they can kill.”

  Mei looked at John. He nodded, letting her know he’d handle this one. “That’s right,” he said, stepping forward. “We use them for defense.”

  “Defense against what?” asked Trin.

  “Animals, mostly. It’s dangerous back home.” He paused. “Actually, it’s dangerous here, too.”

  “Why do you not simply develop a non-lethal alternative?” asked Trin.

  “You mean like the toxin you used on my guys?” asked John.

  Trin said nothing.

  “We don’t have anything like that, unfortunately.”

  “Our customs forbid the use of deadly force, you understand,” said Trin.

  John nodded.

  “Everlasting has taken a more sophisticated approach to dealing with conflict. We understand your level of technology is less…refined…than our own when it comes to personal defense, but we need your assurances that you will do everything you can to avoid such acts while visiting this planet in the future. To clarify, we simply request you not kill any lifeforms, be they sentient or otherwise, in or outside of Everlasting.”

  “Exceptions can be made, naturally,” Trin interjected. “We know that without the toxin you cannot always avoid fatalities.”

  John was surprised at the lack of an emotional reaction. Lena had been quite upset at the notion of killing anything, even in self-defense, so why weren’t these people more appalled? Why weren’t they squirming in their seats at the very idea of it? They had expressed their concerns and made some objections, but it all felt so mechanical. For a group of people who considered all forms of killing unthinkable, they were surprisingly forgiving. “Thank you for understanding,” said John. “If we can avoid killing, we will.”

  “Very good,” said Gel. “With that matter closed, we would like to pose a question to you regarding your biology. Would such a topic be appropriate?”

  “Depending on the question,” said Mei.

  “As you may have guessed, the people of Everlasting cannot breathe the corrupted atmosphere outside our borders. I believe you call it Variant, correct? It is why Titus Ven and his team were wearing environmental suits when you encountered them. Should the atmosphere come into contact with them, they would most certainly die.”

  “I thought Variant was from this planet,” said John.

  Each of the Leadership froze, briefly. The man at the center of the table moved, but only barely, tilting his head slightly to the side.

  John watched him with growing interest. “Something wrong?”

  The man twisted his lower lip, flicking his nose like he was about to sneeze. A second later, the blank stare on all their faces receded. Master Gel smiled. “The atmosphere of this planet was not always as it is. A few centuries ago, the gas as you know it was released into our world, altering the entire ecosystem.”

  “Where did it come from?” asked Mei.

  “There is some debate on the matter, but our records suggest it originated from within the ground,” explained Gel.

  “The ground?” asked Mei.

  He nodded. “At the time, a competing nation was attempting to show their strength by drilling the largest hole ever made. A rather meaningless endeavor, obviously, but it had unintended consequences. XM-13, the contagion you call Variant, was released soon afterwards.”

  “Did the drill hit something?”

  “We think so, yes. A pocket of gas, long hidden away and stored underground, completely isolated from the rest of the world. It is now believed that the drill breached a layer of ancient stone, allowing the trapped gas to escape. Everything you see on this planet is a result of that occurrence.”

  “Why wasn’t Everlasting affected?” asked John.

  Master Trin smiled. “The domeguard, of course.”

  Gel nodded. “The threat of biological weapons was strong in the old world. Our ancestors focused their energy and resources on protection. The domeguard was intended to be used all across the continent, back when this city was but one of many. When XM-13 struck, however, only Everlasting was prepared.”

  “Fascinating,” muttered Mei.

  “Now that we have answered a few of your questions, I hope you will do the same.”

  “Certainly,” she responded.

  “Our next question is related to this very topic, in fact,” continued Gel. “We have noticed that some of you do not require breathing devices while immersed in the gas. Would you please explain the details of why this is?”

  “You want to know why a few of us can breathe Variant?” asked John.

  “Very much so,” answered Gel. “Our scientists have expressed some curiosity over the matter. Upon your arrival, our scans showed a distinct genetic difference between those of you with breathing apparatuses and those without. Is this accurate?”

  “I’m not sure I’m authorized to—” He stopped, unsure of what to do.

  “You’re right,” Mei interjected, taking over for him. “It’s genetic. Our people have been working on a solution to the gas for almost two hundred years. We are the fruit of that labor.”

  “Would you be willing to show us your research?”

  “That research is no longer in circulation. It’s been sealed by our superiors.”

  “For what purpose?” asked Gel.

  “I’m not authorized to detail that information,” said Mei. “I apologize, but—”

  “Who is authorized?” asked Gel.

  “Other people,” she said, flatly.

  Track leaned in to Mickey’s ear. “I thought these guys were pretty advanced. What’s the deal?”

  “Maybe they don’t know as much as they say,” answered Mickey.

  John cleared his throat, quieting them. They both stiffened and shut up.

  The Leadership’s eyes froze again in unison. They didn’t move for several seconds. John was about to say something—to ask whether or not there was something wrong with them—when Gel finally opened his mouth to speak again. “We would appreciate the inquiry. How quickly can you contact your superiors, Doctor Curie?”

  “Provided I leave soon, I could contact them within the day.”

 
“We will arrange for one of our ships to escort you back immediately. It will wait for you as long as you require. Tell your government we are willing to make an offer on the information, should they be interested.”

  “What kind of offer?” asked Mei.

  Master Gel leaned forward. “Our own research on the gas, to begin with, along with supplies and resources. We’re also open to further negotiations should this offer prove insufficient.”

  I’ll deliver your request immediately,” said Mei.

  “Very well. My analyst will show you to the aircraft. It’s already waiting.”

  Lena scurried up beside them. “If you’ll follow me, please.”

  The Blacks began to leave, following Lena toward the exit, but John kept his place. He flicked his thumb, staring at the Leadership. These people had such advanced technology, but for some reason they seemed to come up lacking in this particular field. If ever there was a time to request their assistance in finding Terry, this was it. “Excuse me,” said John, looking directly at the silver-haired man at the center of the table. “I have something you could do.”

  All the eyes in the room were suddenly on him.

  “You’ve probably heard we’re looking for our friend. He came through the portal a few years ago,” said John. “His name is Terry, and he’s lost somewhere on this planet.”

  “We have been informed of this, yes,” answered Gel.

  “I want assurances that you’ll help me find him.”

  “Assurances?” asked Trin.

  John nodded. “A promise to do everything you can, to use all your technology to help us.” He looked at the man in the center of the table, who returned the stare. He had the eyes of a contemplative man. “I need you to promise me.”

  “We will have to discuss this request,” said Gel. “It is not something we can so easily—”

  He stopped, a blank expression suddenly on him, along with the rest of the Leadership—all except the man with the silver hair, who let out a long, soft sigh and licked his lips. As he did, the rest of them returned, no longer statues.

  “Is something wrong?” asked John.

  Gel sat down, and each of the Leadership members turned to look at the man in the middle. The stranger leaned forward. “We hear your concern, Sergeant Finn of Earth.” His voice was deep and rough. “Rest assured, Everlasting will assist in your search.”