Sanctuary Falling

by Pamela Foland

  “You cheated? How in the heck am I supposed to complete the test when you aren’t playing by the rules you set!” Max shouted, feeling the feeling returning to his body.

  “Well, technically you can’t. In fact most don’t. As far as I’m concerned, you did just fine,” Niri offered him a helping hand up.

  “What kind of test is it if you aren’t supposed to finish it? What’s more why let me get so close to the objective before cheating?” Max growled unstrapping the training harness.

  “It was a partly problem solving test. You managed to get past most of the obstacles using your pack. It also was a test of your, for lack of a better word, intuition. Though most just call it their gut. Believe it or not I have had a few people prepared for that little stunt, despite the fact that all scans, visual examination, and even telepathic probing show the corridor to be clear. When I ask them about it later, they just say they had a gut feeling something was strange.” Niri answered.

  Max sighed. When he first arrived in Sanctuary, the relaxed atmosphere left him thinking that the performance standards for becoming a factor couldn’t possibly be as high as to become a catalyst. He’d was wrong. He’d since found out that their standards, while lax in some areas were much harder to understand and meet in others. Catalytic standards had no category for >gut intuition’. You couldn’t become a catalyst without at least the ability to teleport, the factors had equipment that could assist with that. There were minimum intelligence standards for catalysts, but you couldn’t become a factor unless you could solve complex riddles while jumping rope. “So, how did I do?”

  Niri shouldered the laser rifle, and retrieved her pop-pad. “Well, you’ve got a good score in talent, but we should wait and see how you do in the evening gown and swimsuit competitions. “ She chuckled and started tapping on her pad.

  Max grimaced, “I hope you’re joking.”

  “Don’t worry I am,” Niri smiled and pocketed her pad, “I’ve arranged for a few more tech prep courses, and placed you on the waiting list for a mentor. If all goes well you could be out in the field helping people in no time.”

  “A mentor?” Max was beginning to wonder if this had been a good plan after all.

  “It’s standard procedure to have a new factor accompany an experienced one for the first few field assignments. I know you’ve done field work as a catalyst, but being a factor can be slightly different. Backup isn’t necessarily as close or as plentiful. Also, you aren’t always given a specific mission, with specific instructions on how to solve the problem. Sometimes all you’re given is a vague, >there is something wrong there’ and are expected to discover what it is.”

  Max nodded and shrugged, “And that’s how Yllera ended up in the middle of my work twice. With that kind of disorganized approach it’s a wonder you people get anything done.”

  “We actually do more than most galactic councils. Of course, the territory we try to protect is much larger, as in the whole universe. If you consider that we don’t have as many factors as some realities have catalysts, our statistics are pretty good. We seem to have luck on our side, and that luck may be how Yllera ended up in your lap twice. That being the case, I think we’re running luckier than usual,” Niri said with a smile. Then she glanced down at her pop-pad, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really do have to go. One of my students is taking a very important test this morning, and I need to be there for her.” Niri silently and immediately disappeared. Leaving Max’s mind spinning.

  On the one hand, the idea of trying to protect the entire universe was just the type of noble endeavor he’d signed on for as a catalyst. On the other hand, all of Niri’s talk about gut intuition and luck sounded so unprofessional. Then there was the fact that Yllera had found and in her own way was trying to correct two of the most major disjunctions he’d dealt with in his career. Was it luck? He thought of Yllera’s face. Yes, and the luck was all his. Max headed back towards his quarters, with a light smile on his face.

  - - - - - - - - - -

  Annette woke up ready to take the test, or at least that was what she chanted silently to herself every few seconds. She got out of bed and showered, scrubbing until every square inch of her skin was pink and scrupulously clean. Annette put on her last pale blue jumpsuit. She precisely folded the rest before putting them in the room’s delivery cupboard and tapping the return key. They would go back to wherever Niri had brought them from. Then Annette began packing. One way or the other today she moved.

  “You need to eat breakfast,” Tawny interrupted as Annette folded her pajamas for the fourth time, still seeking the perfect fold.

  Annette looked at the clock. It was barely after six. She wasn’t hungry, her stomach felt like it was full of nauseous butterflies. “Couldn’t you let me off just for this morning?”

  Tawny’s speakers made a squelching sound, “If I understand things correctly, this morning marks the end of my. . . responsibility for your welfare. After nine-fifteen, you are your own responsibility. If I don’t see to it you eat now, how do I know you’ll eat later? I won’t have it said that I don’t take proper care of my charges! Besides, this is my last chance to get you to try something new off of my menu.”

  Annette’s face pulled itself into an expression of disgust. She didn’t think she could eat a normal meal, let alone one of the things Tawny had on her menu. “Really, I couldn’t, I’m nervous and afraid I’ll spew on the chief as it is.”

  “Please, you don’t have to eat it all,” Tawny begged.

  Annette sighed, nodded and seated herself at the desk. In front of her a glass of milk appeared followed by a plate containing a sandwich and chips. She eyed the sandwich, wondering what strange ingredient Tawny had used. She was almost ready to ask. Instead she opened her mouth and took a bite. It tasted like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “Okay, so what did you do to it, some kind of freaky nut? Or is it a weird fruit?”

  “I did nothing but add it to the menu,” Tawny answered flashing a menu on the media screen with a new entry highlighted.

  Annette smiled, realizing the gesture the program was trying to make. She finished the sandwich and packing, then sat trying calm herself. No matter how many times she repeated to herself that she was ready, Annette couldn’t convince herself. She picked up her pop-pad. Annette went over everything she had learned over the course of the last two months. She was ready.

  The idea she’d had a few days ago leapt to mind. Her intuition told her that at the twins were part of the test, not taking it. If that were true, then . . . Annette still wasn’t sure what it meant. Should she mention it? Should she just keep the knowledge quiet? Worse, she felt like there was still more to the test. Why did Sinclair have a test candidate? Was Anthony part of the test too? Perhaps Anthony’s part wasn’t in testing her. Annette felt so close to the heart of the issue. Annette knew Anthony didn’t have any trouble in becoming a factor. Sinclair had spent time practically begging him. Meanwhile Niri was standing up to Sinclair to sponsor Annette. Suddenly the nauseous butterflies in her gut all threw up at once. The test wasn’t about her, at least not entirely. It was about them, Sinclair and Niri.

  Annette stood abruptly and looked at the door. She wondered if Niri really could be using her for some purpose, but what could that purpose be. What did Niri have to gain - only everything Sinclair had to loose, the factor training department. Why would Sinclair agree to such a risk? Perhaps Niri’s job was at stake too. Annette huffed out a breath. If Annette failed to make Niri’s point, Sinclair would quickly discover he had in truth lost. Annette had learned over the course of the last ten weeks just how much Niri did quietly in the background. It really seemed like Sinclair was only department head in name. On the few occasions Annette had seen him performing any duties, he had seemed bored with his work.

  Annette shook herself. She was taking weak conclusions and shaky suppositions far too seriously. Niri wouldn’t use Annette in a power play for the title of department head. It wasn’t how the woman
thought. She honestly cared about her students. If she’d been in it for any reason other than to help Annette, Niri would never have clipped the weekends from her training schedule. The test couldn’t be as complex as Annette was making it out to be. It was really just what it appeared to be.

  “Yeah, right!” Annette felt her gut shouting within. Despite trying to ignore the wild ideas, she knew she was on to something. “But what to do about it?” Annette absently said aloud.

  “About what?” Tawny asked.

  Annette blushed, she’d actually forgotten the presence of the program for the first time. Now she would have to explain that insensitivity to Tawny. Wait, perhaps she could talk it through with Tawny and come to some conclusion. After all, Tawny was close to a half a century old. “I’ve had some thoughts about the test and I don’t know what to do about them.”

  “Finally, you’ve put things together. I was beginning to worry!” Tawny said blithely, “So which conclusion have you leap to?”

  Annette was stunned, and had to take a moment to gather her thoughts back up. Apparently Tawny had put pieces together too. Maybe her conclusions weren’t so off the wall after all. “Well, first off, I’m pretty sure that the twins are part of the test. They don’t have sponsors, and Becky acted weird. Secondly, I’m slightly less sure that the test is somehow supposed to decide some point between Niri and Sinclair, and that the stakes may be their jobs,” Annette bit her lip, “But it all sounds kind of crazy to me, and I’m not sure I can follow my own reasoning back to the source!”

  Tawny’s speakers erupted with a loud crack into simulated laughter. The laughter was suddenly far too loud for Annette’s ears. She threw her hands up over her ears, and the gesture brought momentary silence to Tawny’s speakers, before Tawny apologized, softly, “I’m sorry Annette. I guess I was a bit loud. I was just so pleased to hear you’d jumped to both conclusions. You may not know where you got them from but let me fill you in on a little tidbit of information that brought me to the same thoughts much sooner. One, Angela and Daniel are genetically predisposed to having twins, a boy and a girl. When you mentioned them, and didn’t mention sponsors, I knew they were her children and in on the test. Two, she’s pulled the same sort of wager before, back in the beginning of Sanctuary. She tended to use the ploy when two co-workers were bashing heads. She would set up a test to see which was better at the job and then the looser would change departments. In the factor training department of course she’ll test their abilities to select and train factors.”

  Annette staggered back and sat on the bed hard. “So, I was right?”

  “Yes, now what do you think you better do about it?” Tawny asked.

  Annette flopped backwards on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. It was plain, smooth and flat white. “I’d better pass, for Niri’s sake and everyone else’s. If she leaves factor training the whole department will implode.”

  “I concur,” Tawny said in her normal tones, but they sounded so loud that Annette almost covered her ears again. Instead she gritted her teeth, she was probably just oversensitive because she was nervous. “How do you think you could best pass the test?”

  Annette sat up, “I could walk in and tell Angela that I’ve seen through the test, but she might decide that invalidated it. I could act like I still didn’t know and take it, but I’m not sure how that helps. Maybe I can just be ready to figure out what the test was testing for, and do it!”

  “Okay, let me ask you one question, then you tell me where your instincts go from there. You were pretty sure after the last test that you could’ve finished if you hadn’t helped Becky. You also said that Chavez’s boy didn’t get much further than you did, and that he probably didn’t help the other twin. If that’s the case why didn’t he finish?” Tawny asked.

  Annette rolled it around in her brain, the answer suddenly seemed obvious. The obstacle course was a misdirection, as was the time limit. “Because Angela didn’t give him the same amount of time. She wasn’t testing us physically. She was looking for something else. It’s absolutely ridiculous for Becky to have been such a clumsy wimp! She was faking, at her mother’s instruction to see what I would do under pain of failing the test. The real test was whether or not I would help her. And I did! But Anthony probably didn’t! So I’m going into this test with a leg up!”

  “Exactly!” Tawny shouted in encouragement. Annette fell back onto the bed at the explosion of sound. Tawny shifted tones, from excitement to worry, “Annette, are you okay?”

  Annette pulled herself together, “I’m fine, you’re just being awfully loud.”

  “Annette Peterson, you’ve lived here for two months now. I know me, I’ve been much louder! Something is very wrong! You’ve have been avoiding food, claiming nausea. You’ve been forgetting to sleep. You’ve complained about the smell in here, the light being too bright and the bedding having sand in it! Then there’s the dizzy spells. I think I should get Tina in here!” Tawny grumbled in her softest tones.

  Annette leapt to her feet. “No, today is the final test! Tomorrow, when I’m enrolled in factor training, I’ll go talk to Tina. Today, I’m not going to let Niri or myself down. I’m fine. Please, can we just go back to figuring out the test?”

  “Angela would understand if Tina put a medical hold on the test,” Tawny suggested.

  Annette thought about it. The trouble was that after all the symptoms Tawny had listed, plus a few she’d kept to herself, she had a strong suspicion of what was wrong. She was preparing to have a metamorphosis. If that was true, it could be months before she was ready to take the test, and by then the point might be moot. She could end up just the sort of telempathically powerful candidate Sinclair salivated over. Then it wouldn’t necessarily be her doing it, it might just be her new abilities. She wanted to make it in clean, knowing that she earned it. “Tawny, I need to know that I earned my way into training. Not telepathy or anything else.”

  Tawny remained quiet for a minute, Annette felt certain the program was trying to backwards engineer her statement. “So, a metamorphosis?”

  Annette nodded, “Tina may not have gotten back to me, but I think I know what she figured out. “

  “Well, I suppose congratulations are in order. You’re getting what you wished for,” Tawny said.

  Annette shrugged, “What I want is to know that I could do the job without the powers. I remember how shocked I was to learn that Tina got to where she is without them. I want to be able to say the same.”

  “Okay, so you figure you passed the first test. Angela knows you are willing to make personal sacrifices to help people. What other traits do you think Angela considers important for a factor to have?” Tawny said softly.

  Annette sat again, she pulled out her mental picture of a factor, “Bravery, intelligence, compassion, problem solving, piecing things together from unrelated clues.”

  “Check on all counts,” Tawny said, “Now how do you prove that to Angela?”

  Annette crossed her arms and looked around the room. It was stark, empty, especially with all of her things packed into her knapsack or another larger duffel. Annette glanced at the time displayed on the media screen. It was a quarter to seven. She’d already eaten up a lot of time this morning. “I don’t know. I can’t know until I get to the test. It could be anything.”

  “Yes, it could. You could approach Angela before hand and tell her everything you’ve figured out, that would show her the last two things on your list at least. Though, I’m not sure where that would put you in terms of the test,” Tawny answered.

  Annette rolled it around in her mind some more, and laid her head back on her pillow. It was a more comfortable position to think from. It wouldn’t hurt if she relaxed a little more before the test. She had worked herself up to the point she might not be able to decide on a course of action when the need arose. A yawn escaped from her mouth and a blink took longer than it should.

  - - - - - - - - - -

  Angela dropped the box of dough
nuts on the table and glanced around the room. Mario and Maria sat quietly reading their comic books. They possessed their father’s nonchalance about life in general. Angela stared at them openly. They were small strangers, reading comic books. She hadn’t had the time for such triviality even when she was that age. Instead she’d been into gymnastics and school, all “A”s never had it occurred to her to be any different. She’d always been just as driven as she was now.

  Boy, was that a terrifying realization. Suddenly she had to stop blaming the job, blaming The Chief. Angela Daniel’s was her own problem. Even if she no longer wore the mantle of chief she still probably would not escape the woman, the self, of being The Chief. She was her own Benedict Arnold. Now, which half was doing the betraying.

  Maria blinked at her loudly and Angela realized she’d been staring at the girl very hard, without seeing. Angela flashed her daughter a smile and the girl turned back to her reading. Mario held a cinnamon roll and was munching on it making the same near purring sounds he’d made when he nursed, oh so many years ago. Like when they were babies his eating noises seemed to make his twin hungry because shortly Maria had teleported herself a cinnamon roll as well.

  Angela held the smile on her face remembering the children as babies, so soft, so sweet, their smiles had been disarming. Her smile faded as she realized how few and fleeting those memories were; they were her babies but she hadn’t really raised them. She thought of her husband, he’d done most of the work. Angela thought of how little time she’d spent with him recently. Aside from the brief unconscious hours of sleep there really wasn’t much time spent together. Their pairbond was likely the only thing that held him to her at this point. Angela covered her fear at the thought that flimsy tie could break by teleporting herself one of the chocolate glazed doughnuts from the box. Eating kept her mouth from forming a frown.