by JN Chaney
“Do you have everything you need, Johnny?” asked his mother. They stood together at the train station, along with his brother, Trevor, who had only just graduated from the Academy himself.
John nodded. “Yup!”
“Good,” she said, giving him a hug. She nuzzled his cheek with her nose, and he giggled. “You know we won’t get to see each other for a while, but you’re going to be tough, right?”
He grinned. “Yeah, I’m tough!”
“Remember what I told you, Johnny,” said Trevor.
“Stay out of trouble,” said John, repeating the advice he’d been given.
“Right,” said his brother. “And you’re bigger than the other kids will be, so don’t be a bully.”
“No way,” said John, shaking his head. Trevor had told him about how sometimes kids could pick on other kids. John would never be like that. Not in a million, billion years. Not ever. “Only cowards…um…” He tried to remember.
“Only cowards hurt those smaller than themselves,” Trevor reminded him. “Got it?”
“Yeah, I remember,” insisted John, smiling.
Trevor beamed, then tussled his hair. “Good man.”
“You won’t see us for a while, but don’t ever forget how much we love you, Johnny, and when you’re done at school, you can come home to us,” said his mother. Her eyes were beginning to tear up. “You’re a good boy and you have a good family. You know that, right?”
Trevor placed his hand on their mother’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Mother. He understands, just like I did when I left.”
“Yeah, Mom, I know,” John assured her. He leaned in and hugged her again. “I won’t forget. I promise.”
“You better not,” she answered, squeezing him with everything she had. “Never, ever. You hear me, baby?”
He kissed her warm, wet cheeks. “Never, ever.”
******
John opened his eyes in the snow as blood poured out of his nose and mouth. He felt the sting of the cold suddenly, as though for the first time today.
He raised his head, wheezing as he gasped for air. “Ungh…” He turned on his side, holding his stomach, suddenly remembering where he was.
A thin line of blood dripped along his cheek.
Someone was running toward him. It was Terry, he realized. Oh yes, that’s right. His old friend. “I’m so sorry!” Terry yelled as he arrived. “Oh, my God. Are you okay?”
John felt his stomach. A sharp pain in his abdomen and chest, but nothing broken. “I’m…good,” he muttered.
“I didn’t mean to hit you so hard,” said Terry.
John raised his hand. “It’s fine.”
“Oh, man,” said Terry, examining John’s face. “Your nose is—”
John wiped the blood with his sleeve. “You got tough while I was gone,” he said.
“That’s your response to me breaking your nose?”
“Not broken. Relax.”
“What about your ribs?”
John forced himself to sit up. He leaned back against the nearby tree trunk and let out a sigh. “I’m okay.”
“Dammit, John. Why didn’t you listen to me? I tried to tell you—”
“I know,” he muttered, raising his eyes to look at the falling leaves.
“What happened? Why were you after Jinel? Can you explain it to me?”
“I just wanted to help,” he said, clearing his throat. “I…”
“Help?”
“Mei, she…they got her and I…” A sudden lump formed in his throat. “I just wanted to help…I…”
Terry took a few steps closer. “John?”
“I just wanted to get her back, Terry,” he said, his voice cracking.
“What are you talking about?” asked Terry, sitting next to him.
The wind blew, and flakes of snow lifted from the ground, scattering in the air in front of them.
“I don’t know what to do. Terry, tell me, what am I supposed to do?” The words came quickly, uncontrollably, and he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to do or what to think or what to feel and…
…and for the first time since all of this began, John let it all come riding out of him. The loss he didn’t want to have. The hole in his heart that Mei had left. That so many people had left.
Tears bled out of him, gushed like a river of grief until he could scarcely breathe. He didn’t even try to fight them. He didn’t have the strength for it anymore.
“I couldn’t save her. They took my Mei and I couldn’t stop them, Terry. I couldn’t stop them and I couldn’t make it right. You…I couldn’t save you, either, back when you left. No…when you were taken. I couldn’t…” He gasped the cold air and it burned his throat. “I couldn’t…I couldn’t save my mom. My brother. Everyone. They’re all—”
But before the rest could come, Terry’s arms wrapped around him, squeezing him tight. John felt everything dissipate—all the walls blocking his grief and fear—and he let it all go. “I’m sorry,” he cried, pressing his eyes into his friend’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I couldn’t find you sooner. I’m sorry I couldn’t do what you needed me to do.”
“You did find me, John. You came all this way and you did it. See? I’m here. You did it,” he said, this man who had been his friend…who was still his friend.
John had come so far to find him, traveled to another world—another universe—to see this boy again, his oldest and greatest friend. His brother. And he was alive. Oh, God, he was real, sitting next to him, here in this distant place.
Here, beneath an ancient forest, surrounded by the falling snow.
CHAPTER 16
Ortego Outpost File Logs
Play Audio File 1641
Recorded: April 3, 2351
MITCHELL: Thank you for taking my call.
GEL: Of course, Sophia Mitchell. I understand you’ve obtained what you believe to be a cure to the gas that plagues us so?
MITCHELL: That’s correct. I’ve tested the compound on both myself as well as Titus Vin and it would seem the results are the same. Both he and I are now entirely immune.
GEL: Absolutely remarkable. Are there no side-effects? Have you observed anything abnormal?
MITCHELL: None whatsoever. In fact, Titus says the air feels the same as it does in Everlasting, and I’d have to agree.
GEL: Excellent. When can you have the first shipment delivered to us? I would like to begin inoculations as quickly as possible.
MITCHELL: We’re synthesizing them now. I should have the first hundred by the end of the day.
GEL: Very good. I understand. Please, Sophia Mitchell, the sooner you get them to us, the better. Our people are in dire need.
MITCHELL: I won’t rest until I do, I assure you. If I might inquire on something else, before we disconnect.
GEL: Of course. Please, go ahead.
MITCHELL: Have you any news on Dr. Curie?
GEL: Ah, yes. Has Sergeant Finn told you of his current mission?
MITCHELL: He only mentioned he needed to leave the continent to help you with something. He didn’t say much more.
GEL: That is because I told him not to. There are spies everywhere, you see, but I’m sure it won’t hurt to tell you now. He is currently tracking a terrorist in the hopes of finding Dr. Curie’s location. We believe she is being held prisoner in a Garden facility. If this investigation proves accurate, we should find her soon.
MITCHELL: Are…Are you certain?
GEL: I cannot say definitively, but I am confident we will yield results, should Sergeant Finn succeed.
MITCHELL: That’s wonderful news! Thank you!
GEL: You are most welcome. It is the least we can do, given the situation.
MITCHELL: I’ll do everything I can to get the medicine to you, Master Gel. Please, just find Dr. Curie.
GEL: We will do our best to bring her back to you. I give you my word.
End Audio File
Somewhere in Everlasting
April 3, 2
351
Fentin stood beside the countertop fumbling with a vial of Mei’s blood. He marked it and put it aside, moving on to the next genetic sample. He did this multiple times a day, usually after extracting the material directly from Mei’s body.
Strapped to her chair, here in this place, all she could do was watch as little pieces of her were organized for later exploitation.
She twisted her hand in the strap, trying to loosen them, but failing. Wait until I get out of here, she thought, burning a hole in the back of Fentin’s head with her stare.
As though he could sense her, Fentin turned around. “It’s almost time for sleep,” he said, using the translator beside him.
“Screw off,” she muttered.
He smiled, almost innocently, and turned around to continue his work.
The door opened a second later, and in walked Master Gel. He’d taken to visiting Mei on occasion, usually to see how Fentin’s progress was going, but also to mock her. She wagered he enjoyed the situation more than he let on. Somewhere, beneath that cold expression, there was only a laughing child.
“Master Gel, sir,” said Fentin, noticing the visitor. He got to his feet in a nervous panic.
“Would you disconnect the translator?” asked Gel, nodding to the device.
“Oh, certainly,” said Fentin. He touched the machine and it powered off.
“Very good,” said Gel, but this time the words came in the native language. Mei would have to pay close attention, but her understanding had improved. She wasn’t fluent, but close enough.
“What can I do for you, Master?” asked Fentin.
“Did you have a chance to analyze the blood I sent you?” asked Gel.
“From Titus Vin? Yes, sir. Everything is as you described. Quite remarkable, truly.”
“I see, so he shows no abnormalities?” asked Gel.
“Not at all, sir.”
“Interesting. Can you use the sample to assist you in your current project?”
“I believe so. Our analysis shows some similarities between the two. It should save us months of research.”
“Months, you say?”
“Yes, sir. Perhaps even longer. Whoever discovered this cure, they’ve saved us an enormous amount of time. It is truly remarkable!”
Gel glanced briefly at Mei. “It was one of the human scientists, but it hardly matters. I need you to work diligently to find the link between this one’s sequence and Titus Vin’s. The safety of our people requires it.”
“Yes, sir,” said Fentin.
“Very good,” said Gel. He started to leave, but paused as he was passing Mei’s chair, looking her over.
“Something I can help you with?” she asked.
“I wonder, do you know what is going on right now?” he asked in English.
“You’re bored and needed someone to talk to, now that all your friends are dead,” she answered. “Oh, I mean because you killed them.”
“What I did to the Leadership, I did—”
“For the good of Everlasting,” she finished. “Yes, thank you.”
“You say the words, but I suspect you do not understand them.”
“Sure, I do. It means the ends always justify the means for you. It means you can do whatever you want if you can rationalize that it’s for your city.”
“You talk a great deal for a prisoner.” He glanced at Fentin, switching to his native language. “Put her to sleep when I leave. In fact, until we need her again, I’d like her kept in stasis. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir, but the samples we take will be less—”
He raised his hand to quiet him. “We have more than enough to finish the work, but if need be, we can always wake her up. Isn’t that right?”
Fentin nodded. “Certainly.”
“Proceed, then,” said Gel, observing Mei, smiling just enough so she could see it.
Oh no. If Fentin did as he was told, she’d be finished. She had to say something, anything.
“Doctor Curie, you look concerned,” said Master Gel in English.
“What?” she asked, playing dumb. “I was just wondering what’s going on out there since you have me trapped in here.”
“Nothing you need concern yourself with,” he answered, opening the door.
She watched him leave.
Fentin stood at the counter, fixing what could only be her medicine. It looked the same as all the other doses she’d received, except this time when he injected her, she wouldn’t wake up. She’d fall asleep forever and that would be the end of everything. She had to do something now.
Fentin brought the injection to her, sterilizing her neck with a piece of cloth. “There we are,” he said, softly.
Her heart began to race. “Fentin, wait,” she said, quickly, trying to think of a way out of this, anything to stop the needle from putting her to sleep.
She remembered the vial under her pillow. If she could just get to it, maybe then—
“What is it?” asked the doctor.
She swallowed. “Can you let me lie down first? Could you finish doing this once I’m in the cell?”
He tilted his head. “Inside?”
“Just let me lie down first. You don’t want to carry me in there, do you? Wouldn’t that be better for both of us?”
Fentin considered this for a moment. “I do get tired of dragging you in there. This is true.”
“I won’t do anything. I promise. I just don’t want to fall asleep in this chair. Every time I do, it gives me a kink in my neck. Could you do this for me, Fentin? Please?”
“I suppose you could lie down first, yes,” he said, nodding, and took a step back. “But, if you attempt to do anything, you will be punished. Do you understand?”
“Yes, of course,” she said. “I wouldn’t do that. Not after last time.”
“Yes, yes. That would be bad for you.” He took a pistol from the counter and aimed it at her.
“I promise, I won’t,” she said, staring at the barrel.
He unstrapped her wrists, giving her some space to stand. She walked into the cell and sat on the bed. He followed her with the gun still on her. “Lie down now.”
She slipped her hand beneath the pillow, touching the vial. “Yes, of course,” she said, beaming a soft smile at him.
She stretched her legs out on the bed, leaning back, the vial in her hand.
Fentin leaned over her with the injector, studying her neck and skin. She glanced at the gun in his other hand, which was no longer aimed at her. His attention was more focused on the medication than whether she would try to run.
“Do not move or the injection will hurt,” said Fentin, the same as he always did.
“Yes, Fentin,” she said, closing her eyes.
Focusing on his movement, clearing her mind, she could sense him there beside her, breathing.
The liquid in the injector sloshed as it neared her throat. As soon as it pierced her skin, that would be it. She’d have to be fast.
Fentin’s hand drew close, the needle mere centimeters from her flesh.
She pressed her thumb into the crack along the vial, snapping it in half and cutting herself. Fentin paused at the sudden sound, glancing at her hand. “What—”
But before he could continue, Mei brought the vial from behind her waist, eyes still shut, and slammed it into Fentin’s shoulder.
He screamed, falling back and dropping the pistol. Leaping from the bed, Mei dashed at the scientist, picking up the weapon as she went.
Fentin had tears in his eyes as he held his bleeding shoulder, whimpering like a child. As Mei neared him, he tried to strike her with the injector, but she aimed the gun at him. “Drop it!”
He let go of the needle, raising his shaking hands. “P-Please!”
“Inject yourself with whatever that is,” she told him.
“W-What?”
“Do it!” she snapped.
He looked at the needle, then again at her. “But—”
“She squee
zed the grip and furrowed her brow. “Would you rather I use this and then the needle? I know this one will only paralyze, but I wonder what would happen if we used both…”
“No, wait!” he begged.
She nudged the needle toward him with her foot. He swallowed, but then picked it up. A second of hesitation later and he had it on his arm.
“In the neck,” she muttered.
He nodded, then did as she ordered. She watched as the liquid entered him and began its work.
“Good,” she said, lowering the pistol, but not entirely.
“You…you…” His voice was already fading.
“Go to sleep, Fentin,” she said.
“But…but…you…” His eyelids drooped, and his words began to slur. “Ish…no…”
Mei could feel his heart slowing as he faded into a tranquil coma. “I’m sorry, but I had to do it. I know you were just doing what he told you to do.”
Fentin’s eyes closed and, in seconds, he fell into a deep sleep.
She squeezed the pistol’s grip. There were likely too many people to count in this building who believed as Fentin did, that Master Gel was looking out for them, that he would lead them to prosperity. Maybe they were right. Maybe he would.
But it couldn’t come at the cost of humanity or the people outside of this city.
She backed away from Fentin, stepping out of the cell and into the lab, shutting the door behind her and locking him inside.
The hall door slid open as she neared it, startling her. Peering out, she saw the hallway was clear and empty, not a soul to be found. She glanced at the weapon in her hand. With any luck, she wouldn’t have to use this, but based on past experiences, she had an idea of what to expect.
She’d do what she had to, no matter what it took. She wouldn’t die in a place like this.
Mei stepped into the hall, leaving the prison behind, and started running.
******
Outside Ashby Harbor, Tharosa
April 3, 2351
“Are you okay to go?” asked Terry, concerned for his friend’s condition. John still had blood all over his face from their fight.
“I’m good. Let’s go talk to that Jinel person,” he said, pushing himself up with the help of the nearby stump.
