The Amber Project: A Dystopian Sci-fi Novel (The Variant Saga Book 1)
Page 1
The Amber Project
J. N. Chaney
Copyrighted Material
Copyright © 2016 by Jeff Chaney
Book design and layout copyright © 2016 by Jeff Chaney
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living, dead, or undead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from Jeff Chaney.
www.jnchaney.com
3rd Edition
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The Amber Project
J. N. Chaney
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Epilogue
Transient Echoes Preview
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About The Author
BOOK DESCRIPTION
The Amber Project
Variant Saga #1
Everything is a grave.
In 2157, a mysterious gas known as Variant spreads across the globe, killing or mutating most organic life. The surviving humans take refuge in an underground city, determined to return home. But after generations of failures and botched attempts, hope is beginning to dwindle. That is, until a young scientist makes a unique discovery—and everything changes. Suddenly, there’s reason to hope again, and it rests within a group of genetically engineered children that are both human and Variant.
Terry is one of these children, modified and trained to endure the harsh conditions of a planet he cannot begin to understand. After years of preparation, Terry thinks he knows what to expect. But the reality is far stranger than anything he can imagine—and what he will become is far more dangerous.
For Lori
Who read stories to children
And taught them to believe
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’d like to take this time to thank all the people who helped make this novel a reality. To Mom, Dad, Ashley, and Drew, whose kind words and support have proven to be an essential asset throughout my entire life; to Sarah and Geoff, whose advice and creative insights helped shape the finer points of this tale; to Rob, my friend and advisor, without whom the science in this sci-fi novel would not be nearly as accurate; to James, my friend of twenty-four years, who always believed in the dream, even when I didn’t; to Dustin, Dan, Leslye, Brad, and Valerie for their encouragement and council; to Chase Nottingham, my editor and wordsmith, whose meticulous work kept me humble; to Jason, my formatter; and to everyone else whose name I left out. Thank you all for everything you’ve done.
Here’s to the beginning.
PART 1
A scientific man ought to have no wishes,
no affections—a mere heart of stone.
–Charles Darwin
The future belongs to the few of us
still willing to get our hands dirty.
–Roland Tiangco
It worked!
–Robert Oppenheimer, father of the atomic bomb
Chapter 1
Documents of Historical, Scientific, and Cultural Significance
Play Audio Transmission File 021
Recorded April 19, 2157
CARTWRIGHT: This is Lieutenant Colonel Felix Cartwright. It’s been a week since my last transmission and two months since the day we found the city…the day the world fell apart. If anyone can hear this, please respond.
If you’re out there, no doubt you know about the gas. You might think you’re all that’s left. But if you’re receiving this, let me assure you, you are not alone. There are people here. Hundreds, in fact, and for now, we’re safe. If you can make it here, you will be, too.
The city’s a few miles underground, not far from El Rico Air Force Base. That’s where my people came from. As always, the coordinates are attached. If anyone gets this, please respond. Let us know you’re there…that you’re still alive.
End Audio File
April 14, 2339
Maternity District
Miles below the surface of the Earth, deep within the walls of the last human city, a little boy named Terry played quietly with his sister in a small two bedroom apartment.
Today was his very first birthday. He was turning seven.
“What’s a birthday?” his sister Janice asked, tugging at his shirt. She was only four years old and had recently taken to following her big brother everywhere he went. “What does it mean?”
Terry smiled, eager to explain. “Mom says when you turn seven, you get a birthday. It means you grow up and get to start school. It’s a pretty big deal.”
“When will I get a birthday?”
“You’re only four, so you have to wait.”
“I wish I was seven,” she said softly, her thin black hair hanging over her eyes. “I want to go with you.”
He got to his feet and began putting the toy blocks away. They had built a castle together on the floor, but Mother would yell if they left a mess. “I’ll tell you all about it when I get home. I promise, okay?”
“Okay!” she said cheerily and proceeded to help.
Right at that moment, the speaker next to the door let out a soft chime, followed by their mother’s voice. “Downstairs, children,” she said. “Hurry up now.”
Terry took his sister’s hand. “Come on, Jan,” he said.
She frowned, squeezing his fingers. “Okay.”
They arrived downstairs, their mother nowhere to be found.
“She’s in the kitchen,” Janice said, pointing at the farthest wall. “See the light-box?”
Terry looked at the locator board, although his sister’s name for it worked just as well. It was a map of the entire apartment, with small lights going on and off in different colors depending on which person was in which room. There’s us, he thought, green for me and blue for Janice, and there’s Mother in red. Terry never understood why they needed something like that because of how small the apartment was, but every family got one, or so Mother had said.
As he entered the kitchen, his mother stood at the far counter sorting through some data on her pad. “What’s that?” he asked.
“Something for work,” she said. She tapped the front of the pad and placed it in her bag. “Come on, Terrance, we’ve got to get you ready and out the door. Today’s your first day, after all, and we have to make a good impression.”
“When will he be back?” asked Janice.
“Hurry up. Let’s go, Terrance,” she said, ignoring the question. She grabbed his hand and pulled him along. “We have about twenty minutes to get all the way to the educa
tion district. Hardly enough time at all.” Her voice was sour. He had noticed it more and more lately, as the weeks went on, ever since a few months ago when that man from the school came to visit. His name was Mr. Huxley, one of the few men who Terry ever had the chance to talk to, and from the way Mother acted—she was so agitated—he must have been important.
“Terrance,” his mother’s voice pulled him back. “Stop moping and let’s go.”
Janice ran and hugged him, wrapping her little arms as far around him as she could. “Love you,” she said.
“Love you, too.”
“Bye,” she said, shyly.
He kissed her forehead and walked to the door where his mother stood talking with the babysitter, Ms. Cartwright. “I’ll only be a few hours,” Mother said. “If it takes any longer, I’ll message you.”
“Don’t worry about a thing, Mara,” Ms. Cartwright assured her. “You take all the time you need.”
Mother turned to him. “There you are,” she said, taking his hand. “Come on, or we’ll be late.”
As they left the apartment, Mother’s hand tugging him along, Terry tried to imagine what might happen at school today. Would it be like his home lessons? Would he be behind the other children, or was everything new? He enjoyed learning, but there was still a chance the school might be too hard for him. What would he do? Mother had taught him some things, like algebra and English, but who knew how far along the other kids were by now?
Terry walked quietly down the overcrowded corridors with an empty, troubled head. He hated this part of the district. So many people on the move, brushing against him, like clothes in an overstuffed closet.
He raised his head, nearly running into a woman and her baby. She had wrapped the child in a green and brown cloth, securing it against her chest. “Excuse me,” he said, but the lady ignored him.
His mother paused and looked around. “Terrance, what are you doing? I’m over here,” she said, spotting him.
“Sorry.”
They waited together for the train, which was running a few minutes behind today.
“I wish they’d hurry up,” said a nearby lady. She was young, about fifteen years old. “Do you think it’s because of the outbreak?”
“Of course,” said a much older woman. “Some of the trains are busy carrying contractors to the slums to patch the walls. It slows the others down because now they have to make more stops.”
“I heard fourteen workers died. Is it true?”
“You know how the gas is,” she said. “It’s very quick. Thank God for the quarantine barriers.”
Suddenly, there was a loud smashing sound, followed by three long beeps. It echoed through the platform for a moment, vibrating along the walls until it was gone. Terry flinched, squeezing his mother’s hand.
“Ouch,” she said. “Terrance, relax.”
“But the sound,” he said.
“It’s the contractors over there.” She pointed to the other side of the tracks, far away from them. It took a moment for Terry to spot them, but once he did, it felt obvious. Four of them stood together. Their clothes were orange, with no clear distinction between their shirts and their pants, and on each of their heads was a solid red plastic hat. Three of them were holding tools, huddled against a distant wall. They were reaching inside of it, exchanging tools every once in a while, until eventually the fourth one called them to back away. As they made some room, steam rose from the hole, with a puddle of dark liquid forming at the base. The fourth contractor handled a machine several feet from the others, which had three legs and rose to his chest. He waved the other four to stand near him and pressed the pad on the machine. Together, the contractors watched as the device flashed a series of small bright lights. It only lasted a few seconds. Once it was over, they gathered close to the wall again and resumed their work.
“What are they doing?” Terry asked.
His mother looked down at him. “What? Oh, they’re fixing the wall, that’s all.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Probably because there was a shift last night. Remember when the ground shook?”
Yeah, I remember, he thought. It woke me up. “So they’re fixing it?”
“Yes, right.” She sighed and looked around. “Where is that damned train?”
Terry tugged on her hand. “That lady over there said it’s late because of the gas.”
His mother looked at him. “What did you say?”
“The lady…the one right there.” He pointed to the younger girl a few feet away. “She said the gas came, so that’s why the trains are slow. It’s because of the slums.” He paused a minute. “No, wait. It’s because they’re going to the slums.”
His mother stared at the girl, turning back to the tracks and saying nothing.
“Mother?” he said.
“Be quiet for a moment, Terrance.”
Terry wanted to ask her what was wrong, or if he had done anything to upset her, but he knew when to stay silent. So he left it alone like she wanted. Just like a good little boy.
The sound of the arriving train filled the platform with such horrific noise that it made Terry’s ears hurt. The train, still vibrating as he stepped onboard, felt like it was alive.
After a short moment, the doors closed. The train was moving.
Terry didn’t know if the shaking was normal or not. Mother had taken him up to the medical wards on this train once when he was younger, but never again after that. He didn’t remember much about it, except that he liked it. The medical wards were pretty close to where he lived, a few stops before the labs, and several stops before the education district. After that, the train ran through Pepper Plaza, then the food farms and Housing Districts 04 through 07 and finally the outer ring factories and the farms. As Terry stared at the route map on the side of the train wall, memorizing what he could of it, he tried to imagine all the places he could go and the things he might see. What kind of shops did the shopping plaza have, for example, and what was it like to work on the farms? Maybe one day he could go and find out for himself—ride the train all day to see everything there was to see. Boy, wouldn’t that be something?
“Departure call: 22-10, education district,” erupted the com in its monotone voice. It took only a moment before the train began to slow.
“That’s us. Come on,” said Mother. She grasped his hand, pulling him through the doors before they were fully opened.
Almost to the school, Terry thought. He felt warm suddenly. Was he getting nervous? And why now? He’d known about this forever, and it was only hitting him now?
He kept taking shorter breaths. He wanted to pull away and return home, but Mother’s grasp was tight and firm, and the closer they got to the only major building in the area, the tighter and firmer it became.
Now that he was there, now that the time had finally come, a dozen questions ran through Terry’s mind. Would the other kids like him? What if he wasn’t as smart as everyone else? Would they make fun of him? He had no idea what to expect.
Terry swallowed, the lump in his throat nearly choking him.
An older man stood at the gate of the school’s entrance. He dressed in an outfit that didn’t resemble any of the clothes in Terry’s district or even on the trains. A gray uniform—the color of the pavement, the walls, and the streets—matched his silver hair to the point where it was difficult to tell where one ended and the other began. “Ah,” he said. “Mara, I see you’ve brought another student. I was wondering when we’d meet the next one. Glad to see you’re still producing. It’s been, what? Five or six years? Something like that, I think.”
“Yes, thank you, this is Terrance,” said Mother quickly. “I was told there would be an escort.” She paused, glancing over the man and through the windows. “Where’s Bishop? He assured me he’d be here for this.”
“The colonel,” he corrected, “is in his office, and the boy is to be taken directly to him as soon as I have registe
red his arrival.”
She let out a frustrated sigh. “He was supposed to meet me at the gate for this, himself. I wanted to talk to him about a few things.”
“What’s wrong?” Terry asked.
She looked down at him. “Oh, it’s nothing, don’t worry. You have to go inside now, that’s all.”
“You’re not coming in?”
“I’m afraid not,” said the man. “She’s not permitted.”
“It’s alright,” Mother said, cupping her hand over his cheek. “They’ll take care of you in there.”
But it’s just school, Terry thought. “I’ll see you tonight, though, right?”
She bent down and embraced him tightly, more than she had in a long time. He couldn’t help but relax. “I’m sorry, Terrance. Please be careful up there. I know you don’t understand it now, but you will eventually. Everything will be fine.” She rose, releasing his hand for the first time since they left the train. “So that’s it?” Mother said to the man.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good.” She turned and walked away, pausing a moment as she reached the corner and continued until she was out of sight.
The man pulled out a board with a piece of paper on it. “When you go through here, head straight to the back of the hall. A guard there will take you to see Colonel Bishop. Just do what they say and answer everything with either ‘Yes, sir’ or ‘No, sir,’ and you’ll be fine. Understand?”
Terry didn’t understand, but he nodded anyway.
The man pushed open the door with his arm and leg, holding it there and waiting. “Right through here you go,” he said.
Terry entered, reluctantly, and the door closed quickly behind him.
The building, full of the same metal and shades of brown and gray that held together the rest of the city, rose higher than any other building Terry had ever been in. Around the room, perched walkways circled the walls, cluttered with doors and hallways that branched off into unknown regions. Along the walkways, dozens of people walked back and forth as busily as they had in the train station. More importantly, Terry quickly realized, most of them were men.