by JN Chaney
Eleven.
There again, like the light was moving through more than just the air, like something else had slowed it. Terry’s eyes widened. It wasn’t right. Nothing about it made sense. Was it a trick? No, not a trick, thought Terry. You can’t trick the laws of physics, can you?
Terry felt a jolt of pain in his left temple and snapped his eyes shut. When he tried to open them, he felt another. Must be the goggles, he thought. Mr. Nuber said they might cause headaches. Maybe I should take them off, just for a minute. He removed his headpiece and set it on the ground.
Terry wiped his forehead with his palm. He was covered in sweat.
Another jab hit him right away. And another. His head pulsed, the pain coming faster and faster. Before long, it became a steady migraine, which gave no sign of ending. He took in sharper breaths, his mouth as dry as sand. He needed to get away from this place, get some water. He needed help.
Terry slid to his side, rolling on his back, staring into the darkness. He tried to say something, tried to call for help, but nothing came. He was going to black out in a room without any lights so he wouldn’t even know it when it happened.
As if to answer him, a single beam of light appeared, a parting gift before he left the game for good. It moved much slower than the others, only a few inches at a time, hovering like a jewel in the darkness. Pretty soon it didn’t move at all, like a lantern in an empty room, a waking dream that promised it was real.
Twelve, he thought with all his strength.
Then, the light was gone.
*******
April 29, 2345
The Academy, Central
The worst part about blacking out, Terry found, was the following migraine. As he opened his eyes, the light from the room engulfed him and he flinched.
“Relax,” said a man’s voice. “Don’t move around too much.”
Everything was blurry. Terry turned his head to see the shape of a man standing next to his bed. It was a doctor. “My head…” muttered Terry.
“Give it time. Breathe for a moment,” said the doctor.
Terry closed his eyes and tried to do what the man said. It was difficult, but after a few minutes, he was able to regain control. When he opened his eyes again, his sight was almost back to normal.
“What happened?” Terry asked, looking around. He noticed two men in the back of the room.
“Calm down,” said one of them. It was Nuber. “You passed out is all. Go back to sleep.”
Of course, he had passed out. It was obvious enough to him when everything went black, and he suddenly woke up with a headache in a hospital bed. What he wanted to know was why.
“Listen to your teacher,” said the doctor. “Here, I’ll give you something. You need to sleep.”
“I don’t want to sleep,” said Terry but took the medicine anyway. He glanced at the clock on the other side of the room. He could almost make out the numbers. 0800? No, that wasn’t right. Maybe 0900. He closed his eyes and slept.
*******
When Terry awoke again, the lights were out, and he was alone. The clock said it was after midnight. No wonder.
He managed to stay awake for a few minutes before the need for sleep overwhelmed him again, and in those moments, he managed to think of two specific things. The first was the light he had seen before losing control. The second was whether or not it had anything to do with the room with the gas.
The more he thought about the two things, the more he wondered whether one had any connection to the other. After all, he’d blacked out in the chamber. This could simply be a delayed reaction. If that was the case, would he continue to experience it? Was he going to be alright?
But before he could dwell on his thoughts, he drifted back into a dreamless sleep.
When he awoke again, the new day had arrived, and he could scarcely recall the worries of the night before.
The doctor came to see him after lunchtime. “We’re letting you go this afternoon. You suffered a mild panic attack. It’s not a big deal. Take the medication we give you and you’ll be fine.”
Terry nodded. Was that all it was—a panic attack? Terry wasn’t even sure he knew what a panic attack meant. The doctor didn’t seem that upset, so maybe it wasn’t a big deal. After all, what reason did he have to lie?
Then again, what reason could there be for letting a child nearly choke to death in a room full of poisonous gas? He had certainly not forgotten about that—the feeling he had when the gas was filling up his lungs, killing him. And for what?
“Don’t you have any questions?” asked the doctor. “It’s okay if you do.”
Terry paused. “I have a question,” he said hesitantly.
“Whatever it is, you can ask,” said the doctor.
“Does this have anything to do with the room with the gas?”
The man flinched at the sound of the last word. “Of course not,” he said. “You just do what I told you and forget about the rest. You had a panic attack. It’s over. Now listen, your instructor will be here soon to take you home. Don’t move until he arrives. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
The man left without another word. Terry waited until Mr. Nuber arrived.
“Glad you’re okay,” said Nuber. “Pack your crap. I’m taking you home.”
Terry got out of bed and began getting dressed.
Neither said a word for several minutes as they walked through the corridors between the hospital and the school. Even when Nuber spoke to him, it wasn’t much in the way of actual conversation.
After they reached the school, Nuber stopped outside the classroom and looked at him. “Before we go in there, I think I should tell you something,” he said. His eyes were tired, like he’d been up all night.
“It wasn’t a panic attack, was it?” Terry asked.
“I think we both know it wasn’t,” said Nuber.
Terry nodded.
“You’ve probably figured it out by now. What happened to you…it was because of the other day.”
“The gas,” said Terry.
“What happened to you…I guess you’d call it a side-effect. No one knows for sure if it’ll happen again, but the doctors all agree it’s unlikely. I wish I could tell you more about it, the name of the condition, but there isn’t one. I hope that’s enough for you.”
It wasn’t, but Terry was far too exhausted to argue. Mr. Nuber had obviously taken a risk by telling him the truth. After all, if they wanted him to know, the doctor would have said so earlier.
It was also pretty apparent from the look in Nuber’s eyes that he wasn’t saying everything. Something else was going on, something bigger than the blackout, bigger than the gas and the children who never came home that day. Beneath the teacher’s strength, beneath his honesty, there was a fear and a worry that stretched far deeper. Something was wrong, Terry knew.
Whatever it was, it had his teacher spooked.
*******
May 04, 2345
Pepper Plaza, Central
Mara sat on a bench at the far end of Platform Twelve near the downtown plaza, an empty shopping bag between her legs. She watched a crowd of commuters shuffle in anticipation of the arriving train.
A little boy tugged on his mother’s sleeve. “I wanna go home,” he whined, but the mother ignored him. The boy looked to be around five, two years shy of his first birthday. It wouldn’t be long before the academy stole him away, taught him a trade, and rebranded him an honorable citizen of the city. If he was lucky, he’d be a contractor, maybe a scientist. At worse, a farmer or a cleaner. No matter his aptitude, he could at least be thankful for a normal life. It was more than Mara’s own son could say.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” said a woman’s voice.
Mara turned on the bench to see Captain Avery Ross dressed in civilian clothes. Her hair, usually pinned in a clean military bun, flowed elegantly below her shoulders. She looked nothing like a sold
ier.
Ross took a seat next to Mara.
“What kept you?” Mara asked.
“Politics,” she said. “I had to play bureaucrat for a few hours today. It kept me busy. I’m sorry you had to wait.”
“I don’t mind,” Mara said. “But I’m not used to this cloak and dagger game you politicians like to play.”
“With respect, ma’am, you’re one of us now,” said the captain. “You’d better get used to it. I’m sorry it has to be this way, but my office can’t know I’m visiting you officially. The second I arrive at your building, the locator board records I’m there. Then, they have proof. Out here, I’m only boarding the train.”
“Fair enough. Now what was so important it couldn’t wait until our monthly check in?”
“You asked me to keep you apprised of your son.”
“Is he alright?”
“Yes, of course,” Ross said. “There was a scare, but he’s okay now.”
“What kind of scare?”
“Do you remember what I told you about the gas chamber?”
“Of course. It’s barbaric.”
“Yes, ma’am, and you know I agree, but there’s been some developments.”
“What kind of developments?”
“The children have begun to show signs of…I’m not sure what to call it. My point is, they’re changing. Many of them are exhibiting strange behaviors and physical changes, most of which appear to be positive. Enhanced strength, endurance, reflexes. It’s all very impressive. The doctors don’t really know what to make of it, to be honest.”
“Are there any negative side effects to whatever the hell this is?”
“Yes,” said Ross. “Aside from the ones we’ve lost, which you’ve already seen, some are showing strange signs of addiction.”
“Addiction? You mean like a drug?”
“Yes, ma’am. They’ve started asking for it.”
“How many of them?”
“Only a handful. The children feel exhilarated after each exposure, completely energized. It’s understandable some might become addicted.”
Mara paused. “Terrance?”
“Not him,” she said. “It’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Archer has compiled a list of the children with the highest compatibility to Variant on a molecular level. Your son is at the top of that list.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?” asked Mara. “It means he won’t get sick from the gas, right? It means he’ll be safe.”
“They thought so originally,” said Ross.
“Has something changed?”
“A few days ago, Terry collapsed during a high intensity classroom exercise. He fainted. They’re still trying determine why it happened, but Archer believes it has something to do with his compatibility rating. He thinks Terry’s genes are so in tune with Variant that it’s affecting him on a deeper level than the others.”
Mara felt a wave of heat rush over her face. She imagined her son in a hospital bed, unconscious, helpless. “What the hell does that even mean?”
“I don’t know,” Ross confessed. “But for now he’s fine. He’s back in his old routine and seems to be doing alright.”
“And you think all this is because Terrance has a higher compatibility rating?”
“Not me,” Ross said. “Doctor Archer.”
Mara watched as another train entered the platform. The doors slid open and a dozen people exited. “Thank you for telling me this,” she said. “I just wish I knew what to do with it.”
“Sorry,” said Ross. “I thought you’d want to know.”
“It’s fine. You did the right thing,” Mara assured her. “I just need time to think.”
“This is a dangerous game we’re playing,” Ross said after a moment.
“It’s not too late to back out, captain,” said Mara.
“I told you before, the system is broken. It’s never going to fix itself.”
An automated voice erupted from the speaker overhead, indicating the arrival of another train. The crowd began to gather. Mara stood. “Go back to your boss and tell him I want to meet.”
“What’s your plan? Are you going to confront him about this?”
“If I have to,” said Mara. “But only as a last resort. I’ll demand disclosure first…ask him for the truth.”
“In exchange for what?”
“Mothers, of course,” said Mara. “I’ll offer him what he wants.”
“Do you think he’ll agree to those terms?”
“You tell me, Ross. Is his legacy more important than his pride?”
Chapter 9
Amber Project File Logs
February 27, 2324
To: James_Bishop
Received May 11, 2345
ARCHER: Early testing is promising, Colonel. Out of the twenty-two subjects originally exposed, seventeen remain. If you recall the original estimates, these numbers are more than acceptable. In fact, one might even call them extraordinary.
As for the status of the seventeen, each of them appears to be adapting differently. Almost all have begun to show clear signs of physical evolution and adaptability; however, some are more pronounced than others, depending, it seems, upon the subject’s personal compatibility rating. It would appear that the higher the rating, the greater the change. Of course, these changes are at their peak when the subject is under direct exposure to the gas, but the effect remains evident for several days afterwards, gradually declining as the subject goes without exposure. Naturally, further testing is required before the experiment can reach its full conclusion. But, as they say, it is only a matter of time.
End Audio File
July 12, 2345
Central
Mara sat in Colonel Bishop’s waiting room. She’d promised to reopen negotiations over potential mother candidates, but that was a lie. All she really wanted was a chance to meet face-to-face with Bishop about the children. It might not be too late to talk some sense into him.
“Matron Echols,” called the young soldier behind the receptionist desk. He looked about nineteen years old, give or take.
“Yes?”
“The colonel says he will see you now.”
“Fine.” She stood and walked to the door, grasped the cold, steel handle and pulled it open. Stepping through and standing on the other side, a flood of memories washed over her. It had been several months since she was last here, but the room was instantly familiar. She and James had spent many afternoons together in this place, talking about her son. In exchange for that information, she provided pleasant company—a mutually beneficial relationship. Too bad it couldn’t last.
Bishop grew distant when Mara became the matron. He’d objected to her promotion, citing a conflict of interest, since her child was part of a critical ongoing program, but Ava had ignored him. Mara tried to contact him several times since she accepted the position, but every request had been denied. The colonel made it clear that any and all business between their offices would be conducted through secondhand personnel. His version of a tantrum.
Mara expected Bishop to be behind his desk, but instead he was facing a display case, his back turned. She approached him. “Thank you for seeing me, Colonel,” she said.
“You ransomed humanity’s future against me,” he said. “What choice did I have?”
“So dramatic. Are you even going to look at me?”
“If I have to,” he said, turning around. He held a baseball in his hand, rubbing the skin of it with his thumb.
“I’m here to talk about your proposal. You know, the one where you requested another group of mothers for your research.”
“And?”
“I’m willing to work with you, but I have some questions and a few requests.”
“Of course you do.” He walked to his desk and pulled the chair out. “Shall we sit?”
She nodded, sitting across from him. She pulled out a pad with the original list of
mothers he’d requested. “The names,” she said, handing it to him. “Why these women?”
“Because Archer says they’re the most compatible. The more compatible, the greater the success rate. Nothing’s changed since you were in the program, or did you forget?”
“Just checking. But now that you mention it, have there been any improvements or advances?”
“You’d have to ask the good doctor, I’m afraid. All I do is run the school.”
“Then, let’s talk about it.”
“What does the school have to do with your mothers?”
“They’ll want to know what’s going to happen to their children,” she answered.
“The same as any other child. Education.”
She crossed her legs. “If our offices are going to work together, I’d like us to have a more open relationship. You know, as far as information goes. It’s better that we both understand what the other is doing, specifically with this program.”
“You already receive reports,” he said.
“And I appreciate them, but we haven’t been receiving everything. A little more disclosure would go a long way.”
“Exactly what kind of disclosure?” he asked.
“Medical reports, to begin with. We stopped receiving those a while ago.”
He removed his glasses, wiping them with a cloth. “Out of the question, I’m afraid. That information is too sensitive.”
“Why?”
“You know why,” he said. “The nature of this program requires a certain level of secrecy. We can’t risk it leaking to the public. Sending it to you would be too great of a risk.”
What a load of crap, she thought. “Ava received constant updates from your office. She had full disclosure. I’m the matron now. I have a right to those files.”
“Ava never had full rights to the medical files. Her clearance ended the moment the Variant exposures began.” He put his glasses back on. “I’m surprised she didn’t tell you.”
“It’s more than that, and you know it. Ever since I took this office, you’ve refused to meet with me. You and Archer used to hold conferences with Ava on a regular basis. The second I became the matron, those meetings have ceased.”
