The Watchers of Eden (The Watchers Trilogy, Book One)

by Edge, T. C.

  After two months, Ajax announces that we're to go through an evaluation process to learn how far we have come. For those who pass, the next stage of training awaits. That, Ajax tells us, will involve learning to tap into the Void, as he did the first day we all arrived at the Grid.

  He gathers us together before explaining what lies ahead. “Today,” he starts, “we will all learn how much progress you have made. You will undergo two stages of evaluation. A psychological evaluation and a physical evaluation. This time, your physical tests will be real. We will not be using the Grid.”

  I look to Ellie and Link, a resolve on both their faces. After going through what we've all been through, little fazes us now.

  “First of all, let's be clear. Up until now, your experiences in the Grid have been simulations. As much as we attempt to replicate your truest fears, they will never be quite the same as real life. Yes, you can be hurt in there, and yes, you may come out dirty and blooded, but you can never become seriously injured, and you can never die.”

  “But I got burned. I got cut,” says Link, and I see several heads nodding.

  “You told me it was real,” Theo adds. “The first time I went in, you said it was real.”

  “I told you that because it's what you needed to believe and, to a certain extent, it is real. The cuts and the burns are all minor injuries which can be sustained to help create the illusion of total reality, but your physical wellbeing is not under serious threat. Eve is constantly monitoring your vital statistics when you're in there. She controls the simulation and it's impossible for you to get truly hurt.”

  “And today? What happens today?” asks Lorna.

  “Today you will face your fears for real. Today, if you run, you may not only break like Amir did, you may die.”

  A murmur runs around the group, but I don't see those looks of dread and anxiety as I once did. Faces crinkle with minor concern, eyes narrow with intensity, jaws clench with resolve. I see young men and women who know what's coming, who have experienced it daily. Crafted by their fears, I know that no one here will take a backward step, whatever they have to face.

  We start with our psychological evaluations, which take place on Underwater Level 3. When we arrive, we step onto the tram and shoot halfway around to the other side. Once there, Ajax leads us towards a sector marked Psychological Testing. He tells us that it's used for soldiers, primarily, to prepare them for the hardships they might experience in battle.

  When we arrive, we are all placed into different rooms. Ajax tells us that we will not have any social contact with each other for the rest of the day. We will be called for our evaluation, and when we return to the room, instructions will be provided by Eve on where to go next. We need to follow these instructions exactly, he says, before telling us good luck, and that he'll see us all tomorrow.

  As I sit in my room, waiting for the call, my mind begins churning out possible scenarios for my physical evaluation. I know it will be related to what we've been going through in the Grid. It will, in some way, highlight our major fears, force us through them. Ajax told us that injury and death were even possible. That this would be real life, no longer a simulation.

  So, perhaps they'll put Ellie in a pit with lots of snakes, forcing her to move through them to escape. Maybe Link will be tasked with saving someone from a burning building somewhere, and the twins forced to climb the highest tower in the city.

  Their fears, I think to myself, are more tangible, more definitive. Snakes, fire, heights. But what about me? My greatest fear is losing Jackson and losing everything I know and care about. What possible physical test can they design for me that will test me against that fear?

  When the door finally opens, I see a woman standing in front of me. She wears a white coat and holds a tablet in her hand. “Miss Drayton,” she says, “would you come with me.”

  I follow her down a corridor into a room marked 'Testing Room 12' and sit in an upright chair. She lifts a small needle from her pocket and approaches me.

  “Lift up your sleeve please,” she says, before sticking the pin into my vein.

  “What is it?” I ask, watching the clear liquid squeeze out of the syringe.

  “It's a truth agent,” she says. “It will ensure that every answer you give me is real.”

  “So you think I'd lie to you?” I ask.

  “I don't know you, Miss Drayton, so I can't answer that question.”

  She pulls the needle from my arm and places it on a counter, before settling into a chair. I can already feel a strange sensation running through me, my eyes growing heavy and sleepy, the world blurring slightly.

  She holds her tablet on her lap, lightly touching it in places with her fingers. “OK, Miss Drayton, confirm that I have administered the drug please.”

  I nod without thinking.

  “Vocalise it please.”

  “Yes,” I say. “You have administered the drug.”

  “Excellent. Thank you.”

  Now she's asking me all sorts of questions, questions about my upbringing, about my life in Arbor, about my brother and sister and mother and father. I answer her questions, almost without thinking. It's as though I'm watching myself from across the room, slumped slightly in the chair, eyes hazy and speech a bit slurred.

  She asks me about my visions, and I tell her everything I know. She asks me about my feelings towards Eden, towards the Testing and the Duty Call, about how the country is run, and I give her my honest opinions.

  Then, she starts on Jackson and my experience in the Grid.

  “Jackson is your best friend, is he not?” she asks.

  “He is,” I say.

  “Is he more than that?”

  I don't answer.

  “I'll ask again. Is he more than a friend.”

  “Yes,” I hear myself saying.

  “Do you love him?”

  My answer is immediate, so quick is surprises even myself. “I do.”

  “And if you knew he was dead, would you care?”

  “Yes.” Once more, my answer is immediate.

  “Are you scared that he'll die?”

  I don't answer. Inside, I can feel a war raging.

  “I'll ask again. Are you scared that he'll die?”

  “No,” I say. “I'm not scared that he'll die.”

  I see the woman smiling and looking over her tablet. “Good. That's what we want to hear. I think, Miss Drayton, that that's about enough. You will receive your results from Commander Ajax during your debrief.”

  She tells me to stand and return to the room I came from, the drug still lingering in my system.

  “It will pass in a few minutes,” she says, as I stumble out of the door, my vision still slightly blurry and legs strangely weak.

  When I return to the room I see a screen immediately start glowing on the wall as Eve's voice comes ringing out.

  “Hello, Cyra. How are you feeling?”

  I slump onto a bench at the side of the room opposite the screen. “Drained,” I say. “So what's next?”

  “Nothing, for you. You are not required to undergo a physical evaluation.”

  I shake the remaining drug out of my head. “How come?”

  “I do not have that information. Please, return to your living quarters.”

  “So, that's it for me? There's nothing else?”

  “I do not have that information,” she says again. “You are to return to your living quarters.”

  “OK, OK, that's fine by me,” I say, slightly surprised to have such a stroke of luck. The way Ajax had spoken earlier I'd have thought I'd be in mortal danger in an hour or so.

  I stand and start making my way back towards the deck, purposefully walking around the level rather than using the tram. As I go, I notice one of the Scientist recruits I met on the ship. I see her, through the transparent wall, dressed in her white coat and fiddling with some strange liquids and test tubes.

  A large entry point says Epidemiology, and I know her life will be de
dicated to finding new ways to prevent disease and illness. So, she'll be saving lives like I will.

  I continue on around the boundary of the level, watching the Scientists at work beyond the see-through walls. I pass various sections, tasked with improving life in their own special way. I stop, briefly, at the Agronomist section, a place where soils and crops are studied.

  I remember Leeta telling me about how they're working on enhancing the crops so that they grow quicker, more nutritious, and larger. It's funny to think that the work being done here will have such a serious impact on life across Agricola.

  Soon I'm back at the main entry point where we arrived. I enter the lift and return to the deck, step out into the bright sunlight, and suck in a deep breath of fresh air. It always smells so sweet here, despite the fact that we're out at sea. Nothing like that salty sensation that crept up my nose in Piscator.

  I get an immediate surprise when I step back into my room. As soon as I take a seat on the bed, my hand almost instinctively reaching for my diary, the wall opposite me begins to come alive, glowing a funny sickly yellow colour. I ask Eve what's going on, but she doesn't answer. I ask again as a hologram begins to shine out of the wall, and still hear nothing.

  The image in front of me is similar to what I've seen before. It's a desert setting, orange and red and dry. Yet it's nothing like what I've seen in my sleep. This time, it's as though the footage is real, coming from a fixed position mounted on a wall. A security camera, perhaps, capturing real time events.

  I see young men, dressed in battle armour, heavy automatic weapons lifted to their shoulders. They move forward, seemingly through a training ground, passing by obstacles as they're fired on by turrets and fake mechanical soldiers.

  One of the men gets shot, and his armour begins flashing red. He stands to his feet and turns to leave the battlefield. It's merely a training exercise, and they're being fired at by phony rounds that simply disable them, not hurt them.

  The recruits, however, are using live fire. Their bullets rip into the mechanical soldiers, knocking them down as they progress through the torrent of gunfire. I see one stop, his weapon jammed. He drops to his knee behind cover and begins fiddling with the gun, trying to fix it.

  I notice the man leading the charge, an Officer, carefully retreat to his side. Everyone else takes cover behind barriers and broken down walls, waiting for orders.

  What happens next causes me to almost fall backwards on my bed. The entire hologram flashes suddenly, colours of orange and yellow and red mixing as an explosive cloud of dust and smoke obscures the battlefield. I hear shouting and screaming as the cloud starts to clear, then the sight of crimson chunks and splattered blood fills my eyes.

  I see several young men, bodies mangled, limbs blown off, lying prostrate and helpless in the dirt. People rush in, trying to help, but there's nothing they can do. The hologram moves forward as the helmets of the men are removed, their features growing clearer as the dust parts.

  I see the Officer, his hair blond and skin a golden brown. Blue eyes, lifeless and empty, stare up into the sky. Blood trickles out of his mouth, staining his lips red. It's a sight I've seen so many times now. One I thought I'd grown used to.

  Yet today, I feel my body trembling more than it ever has. Today, my vision begins to blur, and a blackness closes in around me.

  Because today, the sight of Jackson, lying dead in the sand, isn't only a manifestation of my fear. Today, I've watched Jackson die for real.

  And today, the sight overwhelms me to the point where I collapse onto my bed, hoping never to wake up.

  16 - A Line Crossed

  I hear the sound of a sweet voice in my ear. It calls my name, cries for me to wake up. A battle rages inside me. I want to open my eyes but can't. I hear more people in the room, feel my body being lifted and carried away. I hear noises, feel sensations, but nothing is clear, everything is cloaked in a shroud of darkness.

  I'm laid down on a bed, feel needles injected into my skin. There's a commotion around me, several voices calling at once. My eyes flicker and a silence dawns. In flashes I see people looking at me. Ellie, Link, Ajax, several others in white coats. They're blurred and unfocused, their voices muffled. I try to speak, but my words are mumbled. I try to move, but can't. I'm locked in my body, my mind drifting, as my eyes close shut again.

  I see Jackson now. He's alive, dressed in combat gear, looking like a hero. He's speaking to a group of young men, addressing them as their commander. They look up to him, respect him. I try to reach out to him. Try to call his name, scream it at the top of my lungs, but he doesn't see me, doesn't hear me.

  I watch as he and his men begin moving through the training battleground. Fake bullets fly at him, real ones are returned. I call again, try to warm him of what's coming, but I can't. Then, the explosion tears through his body once more, and I sink to my knees in the earth.

  I'm lost in darkness, seeing nothing now. I hear that sweet voice again, over and over, calling my name. I fight my way towards the light, trying to escape from this prison. I hear my mother's voice, telling me to be strong, telling me to wake up.

  My eyes open.

  The haze in front of them clears. I see colours again, defined shapes in the room. Machines hum around me, I hear the beeping sound of a heart monitor. Then movement, and the face of Ellie appears in front of me.

  “Cyra,” she calls, “can you hear me. Nod if you can hear me.”

  I nod, and her eyes open wider. She calls for aid, and several people rush into the room. Now another voice calls to me, the voice of a man I don't recognise.

  “Cyra, can you understand me. Can you speak.”

  “Yes,” I croak. My voice feels feeble, like it's never been used. “What happened?”

  “You had a mental break,” comes the voice. “You're in the hospital.”

  “I'm so glad you're awake,” says Ellie, her voice breaking with emotion. “I thought you'd be lost like Amir.”

  “How long have I been here?” I ask, my throat dry and raspy.

  “A few days,” says the man. “How much do you remember?”

  I shut my eyes, my face crinkling. “Everything,” I say.

  “OK, that's good, very good,” I hear the Doctor say. “We're going to keep an eye on you overnight, but if everything's in order, you'll be able to leave tomorrow.”

  I watch as he turns to Ellie and tells her to leave so I can rest. She smiles at me warmly before kissing me on the cheek and leaving the room. “I'll be back later,” she says, before disappearing out through the door.

  Rest. I don't need any rest. I've been resting for days. What I need are answers.

  When the Doctor leaves I don't waste any time. I quickly slip out of the bed and down the corridor towards the exit. I notice immediately that I'm in the same place as Amir was, so am able to easily navigate my way out. Thankfully, the place is so quiet I'm able to get back out towards the perimeter of the level without detection.

  It's late when I reach the lifts and hit the button for Underwater Level 5. It's quiet now, most of the level bathed in darkness and only a few lingering people still at work.

  I descend and step out into complete silence. Underwater 5 is always quiet, especially where the Grid is. Perhaps in other areas of the level it's a little busier, but I've never explored it to find out.

  I walk under the tram tracks, and around the perimeter until I reach the long passageway that leads to the Grid. It's eerie and dim, something I'm used to by now, as I step quietly down the corridor. When I reach the end I slip my arm into the security scanner and feel the warm sensation run over my wrist. Then, with that familiar hiss of air, the door slides open.

  Inside, the Grid has returned to its full size. I no longer see the small waiting room that's been our second home for the last two months. I step out into the large, cavernous hall, stretching into the darkness in the distance, and scan the entire area with my eyes, but see no other structure.

  I begin walking
forward, into the centre of the Grid. It's odd, being in here without having to suffer some painful manifestation. Without having to watch Jackson die. Now, I'll never have to again.

  I stiffen my jaw, and shut the thought out of my head. Through the darkness I see the back of the hall, and the door that leads out of it on the other side. I march towards it, my footsteps echoing, my pulse beginning to quicken.

  The door has no security scanner. No buttons to operate it. There's a handle instead, which I twist down until the door clicks open. It swings forward as I step into the blackness, and a light suddenly brightens the room.

  I squint and hear a voice, deep and cold. “Who is it?”

  “It's me, Cyra,” I say.

  “You're out?” comes the voice again, my eyesight beginning to clear. “I'm glad to hear that.”

  Ajax's tall frame appears in front of me, dressed in sodden clothes. His hair is wet, water dripping down his face. “Excuse my appearance. Please, take a seat,” he says. His voice is so calm, so poised, so unemotional. I'd have hoped seeing me return would make him at least a little happy.

  He guides me to a chair and I sit down as he towels his hair dry. I look to see a bed in the corner and little else.

  “You live here?” I ask.

  “Not permanently, no. Just when training the new recruits.”

  “And so you can use the Grid yourself?” I ask. “It's drowning you fear, isn't it? So you live that each night.”

  He nods. “I used to fear it, very much. Now it's as much a part of me as my arms or my legs. It's what gives me my strength.”

  “And is it worth it?” I ask. “Growing so cold, so...inhuman.”

  “Losing your fear doesn't make you inhuman, Cyra. It makes you strong, makes you tough. It doesn't mean you lose your other emotions.”

  “Then why are you like that?” I ask, my words accusatory. “What are you so cold?”