by A. L. Knorr
I cocked an eyebrow at Hiroki, and he shot me a 'who, me?' look of innocence accompanied by a barely perceptible shrug of the shoulder. Hiroki was schmoozing them. Hard. The girls wouldn't know it, but this was not the Hiroki I knew. I wasn't sure whether to be amused or concerned by this behavior.
"Why, thank you, Hiroki," I said, mimicking his cavalier tone. "Vanilla bean, did you say? Don't mind if I do."
"Sounds great," said Georjayna, stepping up to the machine. "Oooh, chai. I love chai. Targa, there's a mocha setting. Want one?"
The girls began to relax. They doffed their hats and coats and helped themselves to the aromatic food. A general air of anticipation and companionship permeated the room.
I sat and filled a plate with breakfast as I observed Hiroki chatting with the girls. I was so taken off-guard by his charming behavior that I didn't join in the conversation. I just listened and observed the group dynamics as Hiroki drew the girls out of their shells. He asked them how their studies were going, about their family lives, how long they'd known one another, how they'd met. He never once mentioned supernatural abilities. In fact, his questions seemed to make the girls feel like they were talking to a family acquaintance, maybe even a friend. I could see them relax more and more with every minute that went by, their guards lowering, their smiles coming easier and faster.
His approach was smart...and manipulative.
I began to grow uncomfortable as the chit-chat went on and I had to bite my tongue to keep from telling Hiroki to drop the charade. It began to irritate me that he thought it was okay with me that he behave in a way that I knew was not in his true nature. Hiroki insisted on keeping a professional distance with me, as TNC expected, but here he was asking about their lives and relationships. Why would he be so obviously one way with me in private, and so different with them?
For the first time since embarking upon my contract with TNC, I felt uneasy.
10
Saxony
"That was the best breakfast I've had in a long time," I said, putting a hand on my belly. I looked down at the still overflowing spread before us. "Were you expecting an army or something? There is a ton of leftovers."
"I'm glad you liked it," Hiroki said just as there was a tap at the door. "Come in."
A woman with her hair tied back in a severe bun poked her head in and nodded to us in general before saying to Hiroki, "They're ready for you now. Theatre three."
"Theatre?" Georjie mouthed at me.
I shrugged.
"Excellent." Hiroki got to his feet. "Before we go in, does anyone need to visit the restroom?"
We did, so Hiroki showed us where the facilities were, then waited until we finished. Then he bade us leave our coats and hats and follow him.
He led us down a hallway past several closed doors which I assumed were offices. We passed two sets of double doors labeled Theatre 1 and Theatre 2 before stopping at the third. Hiroki pushed the doors open and stepped aside to let us enter.
Inside was an intimate theatre with enough seats for no more than thirty people. The room was dimly lit and a dark curtain was drawn across what I assumed was a stage. There was no one else in the space aside from us.
"Take a seat for a moment, ladies," Hiroki said. "I'll just go check on Miss Marks."
We made our way down the gently sloping floor to the row in front of the stage where we sat down in plush seats. The five of us gawked at the small but clearly state-of-the-art theatre. It was impeccably clean. Each seat reclined and had a panel full of buttons on the armrest. I couldn't begin to guess what that many buttons were needed for in a theatre. Ordering popcorn delivered directly? From the look on Petra's face, I guessed she'd never been in this theatre, either.
"This just gets more and more intriguing," murmured Targa.
"Tell me about it," muttered Petra.
"You really don't know anything more than we do?" Akiko shifted in her seat to face Petra.
Petra shook her head. "They've been careful not to tell me anything. It’s important to Miss Marks that the four of us learn about the project all at the same time."
"Who is Miss Marks?" I asked, keeping my voice low. Something about being in a dark theatre automatically made me feel like I should be quiet.
"She's the CEO of this division of TNC."
"And have you ever met Mr. Nakesh?" Georjie asked, also keeping her voice low.
"Nope, but Hiroki says we will today. I guess that's one thing I knew that you didn't." Petra looked momentarily struck. "I have no idea if I was supposed to tell you that or not. Honestly, all the layers of secrecy in this place are enough to drive me mental."
"Ladies." A voice which did not belong to Hiroki had us shift in our seats to look back at the open double doors.
A tall slender woman in a white suit had her back to us and was just closing the double doors. She clicked them shut and turned to walk silently down the carpeted floor in white patent-leather high heels. Right away I thought that this woman and Georjie's mother might have a lot in common; she looked like she'd come from the womb in a power-suit. She walked with her chest held up and out so that her posture was perfect, her shoulders thrown back confidently. Her perfectly tailored skirt and jacket had thin gray pinstripes running down them. Her hair was a uniform light gray and pinned up in a clean french twist. Her bangs were trimmed straight across and hid her forehead. Her face was unlined, but whether that was because she never expressed herself or she'd had work done, who knew. The silver hair suggested experience and the flawless complexion suggested money and meticulous care. The eyes that took us in with an almost hungry gaze were yellow-brown, a similar color to the wood used to make expensive yachts.
"Hello, ladies," she said smoothly. "We meet at last. I have been looking forward to this moment more than I can say. I'm Jody Marks." She walked past us and perched against the stage, crossing her legs at the ankles. There was an undercurrent of excitement in the way she spoke, as though she really was thrilled to meet us but was trying not to let too much emotion leak through. "You can call me Miss Marks." Her teak-colored eyes fell on Petra and she gave her a polite nod and a smile that didn’t quite make it to her eyes. "Miss Kara."
"Miss Marks," Petra murmured, and returned the closed-mouth smile.
I thought that a look passed from Jody to Petra that seemed very calculated.
"I'm sure you're all dying of curiosity," Miss Marks said with a hollow chuckle. She folded her hands together and I noticed her fingernails were done up in a french manicure. "Before we get to the good stuff, I want to thank you for coming. No matter how today turns out, no matter what you choose, I want you to know that TNC is eternally grateful for the time you've taken from your lives to be here today. You've made the decision to meet with us based on very little information."
I watched, impressed, as she lifted a hand to her heart. She seemed really sincere.
She continued, "And that decision shows a level of faith in us that we've yet to earn. Hopefully you’ll allow us to reward that faith." She arched a fine silver eyebrow. “We compensate our supernaturals in the seven-figure range and sometimes even eight, depending on their abilities."
Georjie and I shared a look. Georjie's expression, much like I knew my own would be, was one of amazement and raging curiosity. Seven and sometimes eight figures? What on earth did these people have in mind? With that kind of money, I could change the lives of my family. We were solidly middle-class and had never wanted for the necessities of life, but with the kind of money she was talking about, possibilities were blown wide open. The build-up to this reveal was making me feel like I was going to crawl out of my skin with anticipation.
"I have received your paperwork, thank you also for that," Miss Marks was saying. She inclined her head with gratitude. "I must impress upon you, we take our contracts seriously and will prosecute should we have any reason to believe that details of the project we've shared with you today have been leaked to the outside world. We are a multi-billion-dollar c
ompany with numerous powerful competitors. We did not become this successful by being cavalier about…" She paused thoughtfully. "…Well, about anything. We are professionals, and we will treat you as though you are professionals also."
My throat had gone a little dry and I wished I'd brought a bottle of water from the breakfast table. She hadn't said any of this with a threatening tone, but the words sure nailed things home well enough. Secrecy. Got it.
"Petra has told you that we have a special interest in hiring and grooming supernaturals for some of our projects." As she said this, she lifted a wrist and tugged back the sleeve of her suit jacket to look at her watch. She frowned, the corners of her mouth tugging down delicately, almost imperceptibly, like she'd trained her face to go no farther since it might mar her perfect features.
Targa shifted uncomfortably in her seat and I thought I knew what she was thinking. More people who knew about her supernatural nature. And not just anyone—powerful people.
Miss Marks looked up, just missing Targa's discomfited movements. She looked up high on the back wall and squinted. She seemed to be addressing someone behind the black windows at the back of the theatre. "I was expecting Mr. Nakesh to have joined us by now, but he seems to be running late. Let's go ahead without him. I'm sure he'll join us as soon as he can."
In response, the curtain began to open on a silent runner. What it revealed surprised me. The stage was circular. A long, curved console accompanied by several keyboards and complicated control panels ringed the platform. Black chairs were slid in under the console. In the center of the circular space was a low indented desk with dark glass, making it look like a large cyclopean eye jutting up from the floor.
It felt like a place rockets were launched from, or a war-room or something. Chrome and shining black screens and fixtures gleamed neatly from the stage. My breath hitched with surprise and my pulse sped up. The whole thing made Basil's high-tech testing facility look hokey.
"Whoa," Georjie said on an exhale beside me. She shot me a look of incredulity.
"Do these people work for Tony Stark or something?" I said it on the barest whisper, but it still earned me an elbow in the arm.
"Come on." Miss Marks straightened and climbed the short set of steps leading up to the space station/war-room. "This will be interactive to a degree. We like to have everyone comfortable and able to move around if they wish. Different vantage points are important since this presentation is done in-the-round, to borrow some theatre lingo." She chuckled at her own wittiness.
We followed her up the steps and onto the stage where she directed us to grab our chairs and roll them to face the eye in the center. In spite of her claims about this being a round presentation and we could spread out as we wished, the five of us brought our chairs into a semi-circular line on one side of the space. Miss Marks stood opposite us.
The double doors opened and Hiroki entered. The doors snicked shut behind him, sealing out the light of the hallway. He made his way down to the stage and joined us. His brow gleamed with sweat and he took out a kerchief and mopped it. It wasn't particularly warm in the theatre, but I thought perhaps he had a bit of stage-fright. That simple gesture, of cleaning moisture off his brow, did more to send the message home: it was very important to them that they impress us; this was a one-shot deal for them. Whatever they wanted from us, they wanted it bad.
Jody leaned close to Hiroki and asked something in a quiet voice. Her eyes flicked to Targa once, but I thought I heard her say Mr. Nakesh’s name again.
Hiroki looked down at his watch and gave her a shrug that said, I don't know.
"Right," Miss Marks said, turning her attention from Hiroki to us. Her expression was serious.
I wondered if she was sweating under that expensive-looking suit. I wished she would relax, maybe put on a hoodie and a pair of running shoes and chill out. She was making me nervous.
She said, "The projects we employ supernaturals for are the most exciting and most classified projects we execute. They cost the most money, take the biggest risks, and have the most impact. This particular project, one we're calling Project Expansion, for now–"
"The name is a working title," Hiroki added with a chuckle. "Let us know once you understand what we're doing if you want to pitch a new name. We're open to suggestions."
Miss Marks shot Hiroki a mild look that could only be described as long-suffering.
"Are you serious about that?" I asked, with more of a desire to interact and break down the ice wall that stood between Miss Marks and the rest of us.
"Yes," said Hiroki emphatically, and wrinkles sprang to life on his forehead.
"No," said Miss Marks, just as emphatically, but without the wrinkles. "Let's stay on track, please."
Hiroki leaned back so that he was out of Miss Marks’s periphery and nodded at me while mouthing the words, 'Yes it is.' He widened his eyes, and he opened his mouth so wide a bird could have flown inside.
I bit back a smile and heard Targa cover a laugh by turning it into a cough. Akiko shifted in her seat with her face tucked down in shadow. Georjie rubbed a hand across her mouth to hide her smile. At least the tension had eased a little, thanks to Hiroki's theatrics.
"If our objectives are achieved," Miss Marks continued, either oblivious to Hiroki's clowning around or choosing to ignore him, "Project Expansion has the potential to improve millions of lives and alter the trajectory of destruction our planet is currently on."
Trajectory of destruction? She had to be talking about climate change and pollution. Okay, so this project was environmental in nature. A puzzle piece clicked home in my brain: we were Elementals, able to control aspects of nature. It made sense that a corporation might want to use our abilities to improve the state of the planet.
Intrigued, I perched my feet on the foot of my chair, leaned forward, and rested my elbows on my knees.
A blue glow appeared over the center circle and I immediately sat back again, startled by the bright light. The central eye was a hologram projector.
A hologram of Earth, slowly rotating in a galaxy of stars, flickered to life before us in vibrant colors. It looked so substantial I wanted to reach out and touch it to see if something had actually materialized there.
"Behold, our home," Hiroki said, gesturing to the hologram. "Our beloved planet is in trouble. By 2050, our oceans will contain more plastic than fish. Weather is becoming extreme and dangerous at an unprecedented pace, destroying billions of dollars’ worth of crops every year. In 2017, the US alone suffered a record year of 306 billion dollars’ worth of weather damage. Drought and rising temperatures have left millions of people in south and east Africa facing famine. Dead zones in our oceans, areas where nothing can survive except for jellyfish because the water has become too acidic, are expanding at an alarming rate. Whole countries are starving to death, while others throw away food every day. Some might argue we are on the brink of World War III as tensions mount between the world's major powers."
Gooseflesh rose on my skin as images illustrating Hiroki's narration appeared beside the spinning globe. Each image looked real enough to step into, and a low, tense soundtrack had begun to issue from speakers around the room. The images depicted beaches buried in plastic garbage, dust blowing across a cracked and inhospitable desert, an emaciated mother holding a child so hungry and tired he could do nothing more than lie still in his mother's arms. A whale wrapped in a fishing net so tightly that the ropes were cutting into its skin. An underwater panorama that showed nothing but huge jellyfish clogging the sea for what looked like miles. A smoggy and filthy city street crowded with people covering their mouths as red dust filled the air and garbage blew across the broken pavement.
A lump formed in my throat as I witnessed the emotional and devastating images paired with the dramatic music. The soundtrack was loud enough to be heard, but not so loud it drowned out Hiroki's voice.
"The picture I paint is grim for a reason," the scientist went on. "This is our current realit
y, and our future, but one we have the ability to change. Which is why we've asked you here today. TNC has a wildly imaginative and bold plan to provide humanity with a new lease on life."
He took a breath and glanced at Miss Marks, who gave him an encouraging nod.
"The surface of land on our earth is approximately one hundred forty-eight million square kilometers," Hiroki continued.
The disturbing images faded away and the spinning Earth took center stage again. Sections of green light appeared on the hologram, highlighting large tracts of land on the continents. Splotches of red were also illuminated throughout, with the majority of the red areas being the Arctic and Antarctica.
"Thirty-three percent of that land is desert."
Splotches of yellow marked out the deserts in regions of Africa, South America, North America, Central Australia, and Asia. Hiroki shifted to the side so he didn't disappear from view as the hologram increased in size. "And twenty-four percent is mountainous. That makes for over sixty-three million square kilometers of uninhabitable land. Some of that land could be revitalized, brought to life, made stable and productive and used to provide a safe and self-sustaining place to live. If you'll allow me to shift gears for a moment, what I'll say next will seem strange—possibly unbelievable—but trust me as I attempt to illustrate the way you can help us achieve this."
I shared a look with Georjie on my right, and leaned forward to catch a glimpse of Targa’s profile. In spite of myself, I was intrigued and impressed, not only by the altruistic objective but also the sheer scope of TNC's project. Georjie tucked her chin against her shoulder and mouthed wow. I nodded my agreement. Wow, indeed.
The hologram of the Earth faded away and what replaced it was an image of a familiar painting. It depicted a square ocean with a dragon crouched beneath it. Two ships sailed in the waters. One ship tilted dangerously and was in the process of falling over the side of an ocean that simply ended. Water poured off into space. A white fluffy face in the clouds blew a nasty wind to hurry the ships toward their doom.
