Iris (The Color of Water and Sky Book 1)

by Andrew Gates

  “What’s your name, by the way? You in the back,” Iris asked.

  “Clinton,” the boy responded. “Clinton Obsanjo.”

  “Obsanjo,” Iris repeated. “Your name has West African roots. What do you think that means?”

  “It means the government categorizes our names by our ethnicity,” he responded.

  “And where do you think your ethnicity comes from?” Iris asked, slowly gaining confidence as she spoke. She could see that the tide was beginning to turn in this debate.

  “It means I look different from you,” he said. “Nothing more. I’m from the Atlantic Station and that’s it. That doesn’t mean a bunch of dark-skinned people named Obsanjo lived on a large rock above the sea. Fish all live together and fish don’t look the same.”

  Iris let her hands fall into her lap and let out another sigh. Right as she thought she would be able to win him over, he remained determined. She could see that she was not going to change his mind, at least not today. I’ll make that my goal, she told herself. These students will all forget these conspiracies by the time I’m done with them. By the end of the year, they’ll understand. She knew it would be a long process, especially for stubborn boys like Clinton, but this was her goal now. She was a teacher after all. She needed to teach the truth.

  “Clinton, all I can say to you is you’re wrong. I hope by the end of the year you will be able to see that,” she responded. And with that, the class became silent once again. Iris looked around the room, studying each of the students. Most seemed excited but others appeared frightened. “I’m sorry for the interruption, guys. So if you will all look down at your lesson plans, we can resume.”

  DR. SANJA PARNEL WAS LATE to the meeting. She rushed in as fast as she could, holding up her badge to the guards as the large black metal slabs opened in front of her. As she passed through the doors into the Strategic Action Room, she was immediately reminded just how small it was. The black walls of the government districts never did much to make it look large, but with all these people packed into it like candy in a bag, the room seemed hardly bigger than a classroom. She quickly found an area to stand with the other members of her team.

  “- and as such, the information disclosed in this meeting is of the utmost secrecy,” she heard someone say in the middle of the room.

  There was a large circular table in the center where the top government and military officials were seated. All others had to stand around it. Most of the people here were Navy. The clean men and women in their uniforms stood like a sea of white in a world of black.

  “This is all well understood, Commander Grey,” another voice responded. “I believe everyone here knows the price for treason.”

  Sanja wished she were taller so she could see who was talking. She could tell it was a male voice but beyond that, she was not sure.

  “Commander, if you would be so kind as to share this information with us,” another male voice added, this one much deeper and aged than the other.

  Sanja could not see the table, but she was able to see Jordan Grey’s head as he stood up from the table and looked around the room. He was about the same age as her, but appeared older with this grey hair and wrinkled face. Sanja wondered if he would continue to maintain his seemingly everlasting immaculate composure under these stressful times.

  “Alright then,” he said as all eyes stared upon him. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve all been introduced. I see Dr. Parnel has arrived late. She will be sharing some more details later on. Right now each of you knows various details of what’s going on. Some of you are completely in the dark.”

  “Shall we just cut to the chase, Commander?” asked the first mysterious voice again.

  Jordan looked down towards his left and held up his hand.

  “Yes, of course,” he said. Sanja smiled, amused. Even now he held himself together. “Ten days ago, we lost contact with a two-man crew of a new Navy prototype vehicle.” He pressed a button on his pod and a 3D rendering of the vehicle appeared on a holographic projection in the center of the table. Fortunately, the projection was high enough that Sanja could make it out above the heads of everyone in front of her. She had seen this design many times before but guessed that many people in this room were just now seeing this image for the first time. “What’s more disturbing though are the circumstances surrounding their disappearance. Only minutes before losing contact, I personally spoke to the captain of the vessel, Sara Gessetti. I know several people in this room were close to Captain Gessetti, myself included. You all have the right to know what happened to her that day.”

  Jordan paused as if he was waiting for something. He turned towards the man to his right and nodded his head. Sanja wished she could see more of what was happening. That’s my fault for coming late, she thought to herself.

  “You may proceed, Commander,” a new voice added, this one female and stern.

  After a few taps on Jordan’s pod, a new image replaced the submarine prototype. A paused video took its place. It was a two way conversation between the captain and Jordan Grey. The captain was a pretty woman with dark hair and pale white skin. Despite being out of uniform, her stern facial expression and demeanor made her look very official. Sweat dripped down her head, making it look as if she had just come from the shower. Her grey tank top was pressed tightly against her body. The heat must be unbearable, she thought as she watched the image.

  “I will now play the recording for you all. I am to remind you once again that this information is classified,” Jordan said as he pressed the play button.

  The faces on the projection began to move without audio. Jordan paused the video, tapped some icons and then played it again, this time with sound.

  “My apologies,” he said over his own voice playing in the video.

  “Captain Gessetti,” greeted the same man in the recording. The woman in the video sat up attentively.

  “Commander Grey, hold on while I move your image to the main screen,” she said. Sanja liked her voice. She spoke with a serious tone, like someone in command. As she said this, the image suddenly changed, opening up to reveal more of the cabin as well as her handsome blond co-pilot behind her.

  Damien Saljov, Sanja thought. The man’s older brother, Tracey, was an infuriating nuisance who abandoned the Navy without leave. He represented everything she hated, disloyalty, anarchy and resistance to authority. She had met with him over a week ago and left the meeting with nothing but disdain for the drunkard. That deserter should be locked away for life.

  “That’s better. Now I can see you more clearly,” said the woman in the video.

  “What is this about, Captain?” asked Jordan’s video recording.

  Sanja expected the woman to answer but instead it was the co-pilot behind her who responded.

  “Sir, we’ve reached 250 feet below sea level just outside of the Puerto Rico Trench. But we’ve encountered something. Some sort of unidentified object,” the handsome man replied. Sanja studied the room as Damien briefed the commander. Most people were curiously studying his words. This was not news to Sanja though. Although she had never seen this video recording before, she was well aware of the details.

  “I asked your commander, not you, Saljov. You’re supposed to be ascending to 200 meters and returning. This is not meant to be an exploratory mission,” Jordan responded in the video. Sanja could not help chuckle at this. He was always so serious and composed.

  “I apologize for Saljov’s interruption, sir, but he is right about the object. This object we discovered is concerning. It appears to be an orb of light and it is giving off extraordinary levels of heat, boiling the water around it. I can only predict this unidentified object must be manmade. I can’t think of anything natural that gives off that much energy. How do you want us to proceed?” the woman explained. At this point, all eyes were stuck to the image. Everyone in the room seemed transfixed on what was happening.

  “Does the object appear hostile?” asked Jordan in the video.
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br />   “We have it in our sights through the window, sir,” the man added.

  “On screen.”

  Suddenly the image of the cabin disappeared and was replaced by a forward image, an image Sanja had not yet seen. She felt her mouth open as she stared upon it and did not even think to survey the reactions of the others. All she saw was light, nothing but pure light. What is this doing in the middle of the ocean? She wondered.

  “Okay, Captain, flip it back before we both go blind,” said Jordan in the video.

  The image returned to the two pilots.

  “Well that’s certainly something. Get as close to it as you can and take a scan. Proceed with caution and report back to us once you’re finished. I want this kept top secret. You understand? Your orders have changed. Get in, scan the device and report back to us. This is now a scouting mission. The scientists can test their depths later,” Jordan explained.

  “Roger that,” responded both the woman and the man.

  “Oh and Sara, try to display some professionalism. Just because you’re far from home base doesn’t mean you can swim around in your bra. This is the NavFy, not a colored zone.” Only a few moments ago Sanja would have chuckled at that comment as well, but after seeing the bright light, she was not in the mood for humor.

  The hologram switched off, leaving an empty space in the center of the table. For a moment all voices were silent. Sanja guessed that most people had just now learned this news for the first time.

  “There’s more,” continued Jordan. “This is where the video cuts off, but we learned more from the crew afterwards. A few minutes after this video, the craft’s connection to the Meganet was interrupted and we received a message sent through old Morse code. The message spoke of a defense system at the center of the light, a cannon emerging through a glowing orb. This weapon was high-tech, like nothing we have ever seen before. According to the message, it fired heated plasma at the craft.”

  Some of the faces were now showing signs of fear. A few men standing around Sanja were even beginning to sweat. She remembered her own similar reaction to this news when she learned it 10 days ago, only moments after losing contact.

  “We do not know who sent this orb, or why it is here, but the message goes on to say that the heat generated from the device caused the water to reach 800 degrees. The message suggests this device was designed to boil water in an upwards current in order to create steam on the surface, but this was only a theory.”

  He looked down; reaching for what Sanja guessed must have been his personal pod. After moving his hands a bit, another holographic projection shone in the center of the table. Two young faces lit up the dark room.

  “The pilots in question are Sara Gessetti, as I already mentioned, and her co-pilot Damien Saljov. Both are now reported MIA. Both Captain Gessetti and Saljov were skilled, intelligent and equipped for the mission, so we have no reason to suspect their disappearance is related to human error.”

  “Commander, if I may, were their bodies found with the craft?” asked a female voice to Sanja’s left.

  “They were not, Lieutenant. In fact, I believe Dr. Parnel can give you more information on the state of the craft,” he said, motioning towards Sanja. “Dr. Parnel, if you will.”

  Sanja nodded and pressed forward, moving through the crowd until she stood by the table. She looked around, making sure all the important people could see her clearly. She saw Commander Jordan Grey first. Near him sat Commanders Hugo Alvarez, Peter Skylar, Linda Faulkner, even the President of the Atlantic Federation Bernard Ortega, as well as numerous faces she recognized but could not name. She had met most of these people before, many of them during the initial meeting when news of this missing vessel was first announced. But there were others she saw here now whom she did not recognize.

  “Thank you, Commander,” she said to Jordan. She then turned to face the others. “I am Dr. Sanja Parnel. I am responsible for leading the investigation of the craft.”

  Sanja never had fear of speaking in front of others. In fact, she rather enjoyed it. She liked being in the center of the attention. She knew she was not an attractive person. She was a short dark woman with untamable hair that refused to accept a comb. She had a crooked nose, an old wrinkled face and a thick torso. She almost always wore the same thing, a grey shirt with a black blazer and dark pants that matched. But when she got up and spoke in front of a crowd, she felt as if her appearance never mattered. She spoke with confidence and that gave her power. She did not need looks to get attention, not Sanja.

  “Has your report been shared with anyone here on this Council, Dr. Parnel?” asked an older grey haired woman sitting across from her on the other side of the table. Sanja did not recognize this woman but anyone sitting around the SAR’s center table was a person of great importance.

  “Yes, I have shared my findings already with several members of this Council. I was told to disclose this information only to a select group of individuals. Who these individuals were was not of my choosing,” she replied. “But to answer your question simply, the answer is yes.”

  “And what are the details of your findings?” asked another voice, this belonging to Damien Daalgard, a commander Sanja had met during her last meeting with the Security Council. She was surprised that he would ask this question, as he was one of the few who received the classified report. He must just be trying to move this along, Sanja assumed.

  “Yes, of course Commander Daalgard,” Sanja said. She turned around and searched for one of the members of her team behind her. “Yuri, do you have the data file?” she asked, although she could not find him in the crowd.

  Yuri pushed his way through. He was a large muscular young man, one of the tallest people she knew. Sanja liked having him around. He was dim witted, but a hard worker. He carried a personal pod in his hand, preloaded with the files she needed. Right on cue, she thought as she took it from him.

  “Thank you,” she said as she tapped the icons in front of her. She loaded up some images onto her pod and transferred them to the holographic projection. A 3D rendering of the craft lit up the table. “As you can see,” she continued, “this is the craft in question, the Cassidy X20 submarine prototype. You’ve all been briefed on this before, I know. But what you don’t know: this is what it looked like when my team found it on the ocean floor five days ago.” Sanja pressed more icons on her pod and the image in the center of the room changed. Now a damaged sub replaced the new looking one in the hologram. This one had heavy damage on all sides, including blast marks on the bottom. There were two gaping holes in the vehicle. One appeared messy in the front where the window was supposed to be. The other was a little more subtle, a small circular cutout in the center of the craft, right above the co-pilot’s seat.

  “I assume this damage was caused by the cannon in question?” asked an obese man sitting next to the older woman who spoke earlier. Neither of them wore Navy uniforms so she assumed they belonged to the President’s staff.

  “Most of the hull damage was, yes, particularly the damage done underneath the craft. The forward window we believe was damaged by the cannon but was ultimately breached by the pressure of the ocean. What we find most curious though, is this hull breach here located above the co-pilot’s seat. We do not believe this was caused by the plasma from the weapon. My team studied this with a particular interest and noted that the metal around the hole was sliced in an almost perfect circle, too exact to be caused by a chaotic weapon like a plasma cannon. Upon closer analysis, my team determined that the metal was sliced using some sort of heated saw blade or perhaps another cutting tool of that sort, which melted the edges.” Sanja tapped some more icons and the hole appeared larger on the projection. “As you can see, the metal has melted on the edges here suggesting some sort of heated apparatus.”

  “Why a heated blade? Have you considered a cutting torch?” asked a man in a Navy uniform to Jordan’s right. Sanja knew she had met him before but could not remember his name.

  �
�This cut was made quickly and efficiently. It was far too efficient to be done with a simple torch. The metal shell of the hull was almost a quarter meter thick. That means whatever it was must have been long and powerful to have made an incision like this.”

  “So you’re sure this was done by a person, not by accident or caused by the plasma?” asked the older woman from earlier.

  Sanja nodded. She knew her data. She had been studying this since her team had gone down to investigate five days prior. Although she did not go down herself, she was in command of the entire operation, telling her team what scans to make, what to look for, what to take pictures of and what to do. She was a forensic scientist after all, commissioned by the Navy with almost complete power to investigate the destruction of the craft. Whether they knew it or not, Sanja knew what she was talking about.

  “I’m positive,” she replied, “this hole was cut on purpose, most likely after the craft had already fallen and reached the bottom.”

  “What makes you say that?” asked Peter Skylar, a skinny faced commander whom Sanja never quite liked.

  “The incision would require enough downward thrust to puncture the hull. If it were sinking, downward thrust like this would only push it down further, rather than cut through the metal,” she explained.

  “And what were they after? Whoever they are?” asked the older woman.

  “Most likely, the co-pilot, Lieutenant Saljov. There is no sign of his body and it appears chunks of his seat were removed as well, leading us to believe he was scooped up out of the vehicle by some sort of circular claw device. To explain, allow me to show you some images my team took from the foam seat.” Sanja pressed more icons on her pod causing new images to appear in the center of the table. One picture was taken from above, showing a large circular cutout in the middle of the chair. Another picture was taken from inside the craft, showing scratch marks around the inside of the hull where the apparent claw had scraped against the inside. Sanja let these pictures sink in with the members of the Council for a moment and then showed a few more, each revealing another angle of the chair. After a few more images, she turned the hologram off completely. “Ladies and gentlemen of the Council, it is my belief that Lieutenant Saljov has been taken.”