Iris (The Color of Water and Sky Book 1)

by Andrew Gates

  The lights around him started to dim. That meant one of two things. Either the station was experiencing a power surge, or more likely, it was nighttime and the lights were being lowered to save power and allow the residents a more peaceful sleep.

  Shit, Tracey thought again, soon this area will be closed down and these halls will be empty.

  Emptier halls meant no crowd to hide in. He would be completely on his own.

  The dimming lights did give him one advantage though: Tracey would be harder to spot on the security cameras.

  The Atlantic Station was notorious for its cameras. There must have been a camera in almost every passage, especially in high traffic zones. Fortunately Tracey knew the cameras did not always capture the entire space of the room. During his time with the Navy, he was sometimes asked to view old security footage. Many cameras often caught the middle of the hallway, but not the entirety of both walls on either side.

  As the traffic thinned out, Tracey pressed his body along the wall as he walked, hoping to be out of range of any security cameras. After being filmed by what must have been at least 10 personal pods only minutes earlier, Tracey wanted to avoid any more attention from cameras.

  The wounded escapee turned down an empty corner, keeping his body tight against the wall. This section of the green zone was completely empty. Now that he had a moment to slow down, Tracey studied the area thoroughly. No cameras on this hall, thank the Lord Beyond Both Seas. On one side of the hall was a bank. On the other side, an electronics store. Tracey walked up to the store entrance and pressed on the door.

  Nothing.

  No fuck. It’s closed, what did you expect?

  He was about to pull out his pistol and fire at the lock, but then he saw a young woman walking inside the store. She must have been a store employee. She had short blonde hair like him and wore a black polo shirt, obviously some sort of uniform. He quickly put his gun away and stood directly next to the door so that when it opened he could easily slide his body inside. Tracey crouched down low and waited.

  For a few moments, nothing happened. Tracey almost thought the woman was not going to leave the electronics store at all. But then, finally, the door came open and Tracey slid inside sneaking past the young woman without her even noticing a thing.

  As the door closed and he heard the sound of it locking, Tracey fell down onto his back and simply laid there on the floor. He was so full of excitement, but so tired. In an instant the feeling of adrenaline left his body and he could hardly move, not that he needed to anyway. He was safe now. He was locked in an electronics store after hours, a place nobody in their right mind would visit until it opened again the next morning.

  “Finally,” he said aloud, “I fucking did it!”

  Tracey waited on the floor for a few moments before crawling beneath a nearby desk. He could hear activity coming from right outside the store. It sounded like a crowd of footsteps.

  Tracey lifted his head ever so slightly, trying to get a view out the window while remaining tucked away under the desk. He could see what looked like five Navy men and two regular civilians, an older man and woman, interviewing the young blonde who had just locked up. Tracey was not surprised they had gotten here so fast. The two civilians must’ve been in the crowd. They must’ve called them.

  The Navy men showed the blonde something on a large pod, most likely an image of Tracey. Fortunately, the woman simply shook her head to the whitecoats and they continued down the hall, leaving the escapee all alone in the empty store.

  Fuck yes, Tracey thought, I’m fucking free.

  He closed his eyes and let himself fall asleep.

  He had done it. He had escaped. The next step was getting to Ophelia.

  That was going to be the hard part.

  Tracey awoke after only a few hours. The lights in the store were completely off and the green zone was dim. That meant it was still night.

  Tracey tried to feel his legs and sat up, accidentally banging his head on the desk above him. Without the adrenaline kicking in, he realized how damaged his bones were. Whatever fractures he had sustained were going to make moving difficult. But after shooting his way through an army of prison guards, walking on fractured legs would hardly be a challenge.

  Fighting through the pain, he pulled himself out from under the desk, stood up and looked around, letting his eyes adapt to the lack of light. The first thing he needed to do was find out where he was. After his adventures in the air ducts, Tracey had completely lost all sense of direction. For all he knew, he could have been on an entirely different level (though he doubted it).

  From what he could tell, the store was massive. The desk he had chosen to hide under seemed like the checkout counter. On his left was a selection of monitors. To his right were stands displaying pods and smaller electronics. Straight before him were shelves full of things he was not able to make out in the darkness.

  It was time to get to work. Tracey knew he did not have much time. Despite his safety for the last few hours, the Navy was bound to find him here at some point. With as many witnesses as he had had in the yellow and green zones, the government was sure to contain their search to this area.

  Okay, he reminded himself, what to do, what to do. What am I here for? Find a way to get to Ophelia. That’s what I’m here for. Find Ophelia. See her again, keep her safe.

  Keeping his hands out in front of him, Tracey tried walking through the store. He had to fight through the pain for the first couple of steps, but as he walked, he got more and more used to the feeling in his legs. This won’t be so bad. I can do this.

  He made his way to the pods, figuring any bit of technology would be helpful. He pulled one from a stand and turned it on. Sure enough, it was charged and ready to go. In an instant, the screen lit up the dark room. Forgetting how powerful the light was, Tracey ducked down immediately, blocking himself with a nearby rack so nobody from outside could see the pod’s light through the window.

  Shit, I’m getting sloppy.

  He was tired, hungry and injured, but he could not let his weariness fuck this up for him. He needed to remain just as focused as ever if he was to make it out alive.

  The pod was already connected to the Meganet and ready to go. Tracey tapped the icons on the screen, looking for any recent news. Coming as no surprise at all, Tracey’s violent escape from prison was the top story.

  Five Dead in Violent Prison Escape, Man at Large

  Thankfully there did not appear to be an image of his face anywhere in the article, but a thorough description of him sat under the headline. Fuck, Tracey realized, Ophelia is going to see this first thing in the morning. Suddenly the need to find her became more urgent. He had to get to her just to explain, just to put everything in context.

  Tracey quickly scanned the article. Lots of parts to the story were missing, such as the details of his escape or the current plan to find him. Even his name was omitted. Interestingly enough, the fact that Tracey’s imprisonment lasted for life was nowhere to be found either. This article was government-approved alright.

  He backed out of the article and was about to search for more information about his pursuit when another headline caught his eye.

  Harrison Middle School Controversy Dying Down

  Harrison was the name of Ophelia’s school. Surely this must have been about the new curriculum he confronted the teacher about some weeks ago. Despite his urgency to get to safety, Tracey decided to open up the article.

  Protests towards Harrison Middle School’s controversial new curriculum have diminished among both students and parents within the past weeks, sources say. The recently introduced curriculum for first year students heavily emphasizes surface era history, an area growing more controversial each year.

  The drop in opposition seems to be the result of heavy influence from the history teacher behind the program, Ms. Iris Vitneskja, who controversially succeeded in moving a class trip from the mining sector to the highly secretive agricultural sector earli
er this year.

  Tracey stopped reading and scrolled down looking for an image of the teacher. Only a few paragraphs down was a picture of a dark-haired woman with the caption Vitneskja.

  Iris Vitneskja. No shit.

  It had been years since he had seen her. He could hardly believe this was the same Iris he knew as a child. But the picture did not lie. It was definitely her.

  Iris, she’s a teacher at Ophelia’s school.

  That was his way in. Tracey knew he could not get to Ophelia, not directly. The Navy was surely guarding her, wherever she was staying. Iris would be easier to find. She’ll remember me, Tracey thought, she’ll help.

  A small smile formed on his face.

  If I can get to Iris, I can get to Ophelia.

  IRIS WIPED HER NOSE WITH the soft napkin and took a sip from her mug. Somehow between today and yesterday the overworked researcher had managed to catch a cold. It was not severe, but as busy as she was, Iris did not want to be sick for long. She put the mug back down on the table, glad that it was finally empty. The dissolved Vitamin C powder tasted terrible, but heating it in the microwave at least made it easier to ignore the flavor.

  It was Sunday evening, almost 24 hours since she broke down crying in the yellow zone. Looking back on it, she could not believe she broke down like that in front of Dan. Whether or not there was any realistic possibility for their relationship to work out, she still wanted to make a good impression.

  With her stuffy nose and the thought of Dan fresh on her mind, it was hard for Iris to focus on the research for Dr. Parnel. Still, despite the distractions, Iris managed to make a lot of headway. She turned and skimmed through the notes on her pod. She rubbed her head.

  Over the past few days Iris read up on any references to orbs throughout surface history. The most obvious references that kept coming up were the sun, but there were a few more interesting results as well, including references to supernatural or extraterrestrial sources. Unfortunately none of them resembled what she had seen on the hologram. As far as she could tell, nothing from surface history pointed towards any sign of underwater balls of light that produced steam.

  Iris had the same luck with surface era references to plasma cannon technology. While there were several forms of prototype plasma weapons produced on the surface, nothing developed during that era resembled the type of weapon that destroyed the Cassidy X20. No leads on either front, Iris thought.

  She felt as if she had been through all the data a thousand times. She even caught herself reading some of the same sources more than once. Clearly she had reached a dead end.

  The worn out researcher came to a conclusion as she looked down at her notes. Whatever technology they were dealing with was either classified during the surface era or more likely created after the Descent. Iris sighed. Dr. Parnel was not going to be happy with this news, but those were the facts and Iris had pages of notes to back it up.

  She carried her mug to the sink, sniffling as she walked in her warm sweatpants and hooded sweatshirt. She placed it under the water and rinsed it out for a few seconds and thought about her discoveries.

  Obviously this orb came from somewhere but Iris would not have been assigned for this research if the technology was developed here. So if the orb did not come from the surface and it did not come from the station, then there were two logical answers: either it came from the Pacific Station or the Indian Station.

  Unfortunately nobody, not even the most educated professors, knew anything about the other stations. There was little contact between the stations in the 200 years following the Descent and the contact that did take place was said to have been confusing. Iris was not sure what that meant, but then again, nobody really did. If she was to look into the activity of other stations, she would need to access those conversations.

  Iris returned to her pod and began writing. It took her over an hour to compound her research from the last week. All in all her report was divided into four different sections. The first section concluded that the crew of the submarine may have survived the wreckage with an emergency ascent. The second section concluded that no plasma cannon technology like the one in the attack had ever been developed on the surface. The third section concluded the same thing about the glowing orb. In the final section, she submitted her request to access the audio files. When all was finished, she proofread it thoroughly and tapped submit.

  Now I wait, she thought to herself.

  It felt good to submit her weekly reports lately. At first it caused her nothing but stress, but as time went on she felt more comfortable sending Dr. Parnel her data. Plus, this week’s report was far more exciting than most.

  Cough, cough!

  Iris reached for her mug again but remembered she already brought it to the sink. She coughed all the way as she walked to the faucet and filled up her mug with water.

  Knock, knock, knock!

  It was late for someone to come knocking. At this time on a Sunday the green zones would be closing down, most people were back at home and the halls were generally empty. Whoever wanted her attention, it must have been important.

  She opened the door, not worrying about her sloppy look.

  “Iris,” greeted Desmond, hiding behind a nervous looking smile.

  “Desmond?” Iris asked, confused. This was not who she expected to see standing at her door.

  “I’m sorry to bother you,” he said awkwardly. “I feel kind of silly coming to ask you this.”

  Desmond wore a red t-shirt and black shorts. Iris assumed he must have come right over from his place. For once Iris did not feel underdressed in sweats.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “I was wondering if I could borrow some ingredients,” he explained. “I desperately need sodium packs and fructose if you have any. I’ll pay you back for anything I use.”

  Iris was confused.

  “Uh… sure,” she answered, “that’s fine. But wouldn’t it be easier to buy some at the store?”

  Desmond shook his head.

  “Haven’t you heard?”

  “Heard what?”

  Desmond’s eyebrows went up as if it were a huge surprise that Iris had not heard the news.

  “They’ve shut down everything green tonight,” he explained.

  Iris checked the clock on her pod. It was 20:00 already.

  “Yeah, it’s late on a Sunday. Most green zones close down around now anyway. Can’t you go to a 24 hour zone?”

  Desmond shook his head.

  “They’ve shut down those too. Anything green is off limits. Even some yellow zones have been shut down as well, but not the major ones.”

  Iris had never heard of a shutdown like this. On occasion certain zones would shut down for maintenance or power allocation during emergencies. But shutting down every single green zone all at once was unheard of. As far as she was aware, nothing like this had ever been done in the past 200 years.

  “Why would they do that?”

  “I’ve heard different things, but there’s some sort of escaped convict, killed a bunch of people. There were lots of witnesses. I’m surprised you haven’t heard. It’s been all over the Meganet.”

  “I’m sorry, I’ve been doing research. I’ve been very focused. So… so where is the convict?”

  Desmond put his hands in the air as if to reassure her that everything was okay.

  “Don’t worry, Iris. I didn’t come here to scare you. The prison was on the other side of the station. Couldn’t be further from where we are now. The Navy is scanning the place like crazy. Don’t worry, we’re fine,” he explained calmly.

  This news did not rest so well with Iris. She could feel her heart rate pick up. For a second she simply stood there, unmoving. She did not know what to do or say. But then she remembered why Desmond came in the first place.

  “Ah, anyway, you wanted ingredients,” she said aloud as the thought came back to her. Hopefully he would not notice her nervousness.

  “Yes,” he answ
ered with a smile, “only if you’re not using it. I don’t mean to take anything away from you. I need sodium and fructose if you have any.”

  “I think I do. Let me check.” As Iris walked away with the door open, she realized how rude she must have been. “Come on in!” she said to him, acting like she planned to ask him in all along.

  Desmond entered and closed the door behind him.

  “You know, I’ve never been inside here before,” he answered. “It looks a lot like mine.”

  “Everything looks the same in the station,” Iris responded as she made her way to the kitchen. She checked inside her cabinet and found several boxes full of sodium packs.

  “How much sodium do you need?” she asked as she turned towards him.

  “Four packs would do fine.”

  She pulled out four packs and handed them to him.

  “Thanks.”

  “So who was this convict that escaped?” Iris asked as she put the rest of the packs away.

  “I don’t know. The media won’t say. Doesn’t give a name or anything, but don’t worry Iris. This guy’s on the other side of the station.”

  That statement did not help reassure her.

  “When did this happen?” she asked.

  “Like 20 minutes ago. It just happened!”

  Iris looked behind the boxes of sodium packets and found an unopened tube of liquid fructose. Iris pulled it out, surprised that she had an unopened tube at all.

  “Why are they shutting the whole station down then if he’s just in one area?” she asked as she handed him the tube.

  “I don’t know. I guess they really want to get this guy. Make sure he has nowhere to run or something like that,” he answered as he took the fructose from her. “Thanks by the way. This is a real help.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Enjoy. I didn’t even realize I had a full tube. I must’ve bought it and forgotten,” Iris said.