The Amber Project: A Dystopian Sci-fi Novel (The Variant Saga Book 1)

by JN Chaney

  “What’s going on?” asked Terry.

  Sarah kept watching Roland. “Central called while you were gone. We’re getting new orders.”

  “What kind of orders? And why so late?”

  “I don’t know yet,” she said.

  Together with Mei and John, Roland approached the fire. Standing there, the light reflecting off his deep, brown skin, he looked exhausted. The lines around his eyes had grown long and heavy, as though he’d aged another decade or two, and the sweat lingering on his forehead and neck made it seem as though he’d awoken from a vivid nightmare. Perhaps he had.

  “I got the call a few minutes ago,” said Roland. He wiped his bloodshot eyes with his fingertips, sliding his palm over his face as it fell. “There’s a signal coming from the north. It’s faint, but Central thinks it might be Cole’s. They need us to check it out.”

  Sarah closed her eyes. “I can’t believe this.”

  Roland nodded. “Looks like we’re not going home quite yet.”

  *******

  January 04, 2347

  Housing District 03

  Avery Ross awoke in the middle of the night to the alarm on her pad. It lay on the nightstand nearby, illuminating the room with a red, pulsing glow. She blinked mechanically in an attempt to discharge the fatigue from her eyes. They burned defiantly, calling her back to sleep.

  She pulled the pad in close. The screen came alive when she tapped it and a message appeared in bolded red lettering: SECURITY ACCESS, ALPHA POINT. COLONEL BISHOP, JAMES M. The time and date were stamped below.

  She had set up the alert system a few months back in order to keep tabs on when the colonel entered the academy. Most of the time she didn’t need it, because he rarely went in without calling her first. There had only been a few instances, and none had occurred since she installed this new system.

  Ross’s heart began to race, replacing her fatigue with adrenaline, giving her the strength to get to her feet. She leapt out of bed and threw her uniform on as quickly as possible. Within moments, she was out the door.

  Because she only lived a block away, it didn’t take her very long to reach her work. She badged into the side entrance, which was rarely used and hastily crept through the halls toward her office. She wouldn’t go near the colonel. She didn’t have to. Before installing the alert on her pad, she’d also installed a helper tool on Bishop’s desktop, giving her remote access from her own computer, allowing her to listen in through his microphone. She could only do this from her office, which increased the risk of getting caught, but that was necessary. Anything worth doing required a certain level of danger. Spying on her boss was no exception.

  She made very little noise as she entered the office, locking the door and taking her seat. She booted up the desktop, validating her credentials and finally running the helper tool.

  She wasn’t sure if it would actually work, given she’d never even tested it before. But to her surprise, the program ran flawlessly, and she was quickly met with the sound of men talking. She grinned wildly at her amateur success, but quickly shook the celebration off, forcing herself to focus on the job instead.

  “So we’re set,” said Bishop. His muffled voice was more like a whisper. Ross leaned in close.

  “Sure,” said another voice, raspy and deep. Ross didn’t recognize him. “The protest tomorrow. I’ll be there.”

  “Good,” said Bishop.

  “And the money?” asked the man. “This kind of job ain’t cheap.”

  “So long as you do it, you’ll get paid.”

  “I better,” he said. “Killing a politician is risky business.”

  “I promised you didn’t I?” asked Bishop. “Follow the plan and you’ll be fine.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Wave my arms, make a scene, shoot her dead. No problem.”

  “You have to do it while everyone’s watching,” said Bishop. “They all need to see you.”

  “Why can’t I just off her while she’s asleep? You never had a problem with it before. Why the change?”

  “It’s about sending a message. The people going to this protest, I know a lot of them. They’re cowards. If they see the matron take a bullet in the chest, they’ll back down.”

  “You ain’t worried they’ll come after you?”

  “It’s the reason you have to yell what I told you.”

  “Right.”

  “Don’t screw this up. I can’t help you if you get caught.”

  “Never botched a job yet,” said the man. “I ain’t gonna start now.”

  Ross could barely breathe, her heart was racing so fast. It was like all the air in the room had suddenly been sucked out. She fumbled with the controls on her desk, trying to hurry and disconnect the line. She never expected to overhear something so malicious, but it was too late. The truth had come out, and she had an obligation to act.

  She ran swiftly to her personal bathroom, got out her pad, and waited for the alert that Bishop had left the building. She sat there, clutching the pad in her chest with her arms wrapped around her body, shaking uncontrollably. What was this horrible feeling overtaking her? Was she afraid for her life? No, she had already learned to manage personal fear. This was something else, a concern for the matron, for Mara, her friend. The thought of something happening to her filled Ross with a powerful dread. She couldn’t let anything happen to Mara, even at the cost of herself. She had to stop it. She had to warn her.

  The alert sounded on her pad, and she quickly left the bathroom and her office. She departed through a different exit than the one the colonel had and quietly made her way back to her apartment, where she changed her clothes to something more inconspicuous. In less than an hour, she was on the train, traveling to Mara’s apartment.

  Things were about to get extremely complicated and more than a little dangerous. The man with the raspy voice—he was going to make an attempt on Mara’s life. He had to be stopped. If only she knew who he was. But she didn’t know, nor could she. What’s more, even if she convinced Mara to stay away, or she came forward and had Bishop arrested, the killer would still carry out the plan eventually. The pieces were already moving. She couldn’t stop it.

  A sudden realization swept over her, and she began to consider an alternate plan. What if she let the assassin take his shot? What if Mara Echols died?

  *******

  January 05, 2347

  The Mother’s Lounge

  The protest was going splendidly. Thanks to Ross and Ava’s efforts to bring in new protestors, the mother’s lounge had filled to capacity. The crowd no longer consisted of only mothers but people from all across the city, including farmers, contractors, factory workers, counselors, scientists, and a handful of crudely disguised soldiers. It was a far cry from a complete success, but things were certainly progressing in the right direction.

  Mara stood with Ava and several others near the back of the lounge. Among them included Dr. Timothy Rhodes, a medical doctor, Freddy Winehold, one of the farms’ head operators, Patricia Stockholm, a judge, and Emmitt Clawson, owner of Clawson’s Goods, the largest shop in the city’s plaza. They had each shown up for different reasons—some for genuine concern, others out of curiosity. Mara suspected Clawson in particular had only come to appear empathetic in an effort to better promote his business. Still, the fact that they had all shown up was itself worth celebrating. The more people who showed their support, the louder their voice would become.

  Ava nudged Mara’s elbow. “You did well,” she whispered. “It’s quite the turnout.”

  “Thank you, Ava. But you deserve the credit, too, along with our other friend.”

  “Yes, the silent conspirator,” nodded Ava. “Speaking of which, are you ready?”

  You mean am I ready to die? She thought, though she didn’t say it. Of course, the murder was only an illusion—a devious little plan engineered by Captain Ross. She was in no real danger. Aside from the bulletproof vest she wore
under her dress, the podium was encased with translucent BB-Glass for added safety. The BB-Glass and the vest had both been a gift from Ross, of which Mara was now most thankful.

  Mara gave Ava a wink. “I’ll never be ready, but I’m doing this anyway.”

  Ava nodded. “Whatever happens, I’ll be right here.”

  Without another word, Mara made her way to the podium at the head of the lounge. She tapped the microphone and cleared her throat. The commotion quickly subsided. Everyone’s eyes were on her.

  “Greetings, my dear friends,” she began. “Today is an important day for all of us. Today we are, for what almost feels like the first time, gathered together under a common banner. We stand united in the opposition of tyranny…a direct attack on our way of life. Several years ago, General Stone, along with the first matron Ava Long, decided that no government could operate under the guise of a monarchy, that no single individual should have the ability to control the rest. It’s why the Stone Charter was created and with it, a system of checks and balances. This system, represented by the council, has fallen under direct opposition by the other leaders. They have chosen to ignore the policy of our fathers in favor of their own. This is something that we, as citizens of our fair city, cannot abide.”

  A fleet of whispers swept through the crowd and lingered, rising and collapsing. Mara continued. “I’m sure you all have questions and concerns,” she said. “If you look at your pads, you’ll see I have forwarded all related documents to this discussion. But if you have additional problems or would like more information, my staff and I are here to help.”

  A woman in the front row raised her hand. Mara recognized her as being a biologist in the labs. “Yes, I was just wondering, how did you first learn of this information?”

  “We have a source. That is all I can say.”

  “And we’re supposed to believe in the reliability of this source?” asked the woman.

  “Believe in the facts,” said Mara. “I have not come to you today with rumors or baseless accusations…but with proof. As a scientist, I’m sure you can appreciate that the evidence is the most important part of any investigation.”

  “Of course,” she conceded.

  Mara looked around the room. “Are there any other questions?”

  A hand shot up from amid the crowd. It was a dark haired man, his skin quite pale. He was wearing a large jacket with his other hand inside. “I got a question,” he said. His scraping voice cut the air like a knife, demanding attention.

  “Go ahead,” said Mara.

  The man stared at her for a moment. “You happy to be where you are?”

  “Happy?” Mara asked.

  “You know what I think,” said the man. “You got a taste of the good life. You got a bite of the power. Now you want some more. You and all them other boys, you think you got more of a right than the rest of us. You think you’re better.”

  “Sir, I don’t think…”

  “People in the slums, they’re working every day like dogs and you’re sitting there complaining about how you want more scraps. You ain’t special, lady. You don’t deserve nothing more than me…and I’m gonna prove it.” He swept his jacket open and pulled his other arm out. There, clutched between his boney fingers, he held a pistol. “No more slaves! Equality or death!”

  He aimed and pulled the trigger. The bullet pulsed from the barrel of the gun and sped in the direction of Mara’s chest, hitting the BB-Glass and fracturing into a thousand tiny pieces, which it absorbed.

  Mara fell, and the crowd scattered, filling the room with screams.

  Chapter 17

  Amber Project File Logs

  Play Audio File 183

  January 05, 2347

  NUBER: What’s so important you had to call me in the middle of the night?

  ROSS: I’m sorry, Henry, but I need to talk to you. It’s important. Have you been paying attention to what’s going on?

  NUBER: You’ll have to be more specific. Between what’s happening on the surface and the insanity in the city streets, I’m having a hard time keeping up.

  ROSS: The assassination.

  NUBER: Ah. Yeah, I heard about it. You arrested the guy, right?

  ROSS: We caught him fleeing the scene. I sent a few guards to monitor the protest. You know, to be on the safe side.

  NUBER: Sounds like you got lucky. Nice job.

  ROSS: Yes, very lucky.

  NUBER: Did you get anything out of the killer?

  ROSS: Nothing substantial. The colonel pulled me away before I was able to complete the interrogation. He said it could wait and to focus on containment and public reassurances.

  NUBER: He doesn’t think it’s important to question the killer?

  ROSS: Have you spoken to the colonel?

  NUBER: Sure.

  ROSS: Then, you know what he’s planning on doing.

  NUBER: You mean take control over the motherhood?

  ROSS: Yes. What did you say when he told you?

  NUBER: I complained, but he stopped listening to me a while ago.

  ROSS: So you don’t think it’s a good idea?

  NUBER: Hell no, it’s not. Since when is marshal law a good idea? It’s ridiculous.

  ROSS: He says it’s temporary.

  NUBER: Sure he does.

  ROSS: You don’t believe him?

  NUBER: He was having trouble convincing Echols to donate mothers to the project. He and Archer need them, though, so he’s bound to try to manipulate this situation. It’s how he operates.

  ROSS: That’s what I thought you were going to say.

  NUBER: Sorry if I disappointed you.

  ROSS: On the contrary, Henry. You’ve said all the right things. It’s the reason I came to you in the first place.

  NUBER: Avery, what’s going on? You call me up in the dead of night, ask me a bunch of questions. I’m not sure what to make of it.

  ROSS: I’m sorry. I know it’s strange. I had to see if we were on the same page.

  NUBER: Same page? Can you elaborate?

  ROSS: I swear I will, but not right now. Can you meet me tomorrow at Virgil’s Diner? There’s something I need you to see.

  End Audio File

  January 06, 2347

  The Surface

  Terry and the others traveled through dawn and into the hard light of the afternoon sun, sticking closely to the road—as close as one could get to something which came and went so often. Dust and time had worn the paths enough so they vanished randomly only to reappear an hour later. The only true point of reference was the map on their pads, which showed their location by way of a steady red dot. Their destination lay in the north, which the map displayed in calmer blue. It blinked periodically like a steady, beating pulse. It was Cole’s chip, of course, and in all the time they walked, it never moved an inch.

  A dozen thoughts circled Terry’s mind as to the fate of his former classmate. If Alex’s story were to be believed—and he had no reason to lie—Cole was probably dead. But if he really did manage to survive, maybe he’d found himself a hiding place somewhere and was waiting for the chance to come out. Alex hid in a hole in the ground, after all, so why couldn’t Cole do the same?

  However, even as he thought it, Terry knew it could never be true. This new world was no place for hope, nor for life; it was a place for all the other, nastier things—the kind of things a mother tells her children to scare them into brushing their teeth or eating their vegetables. The only difference was now the nightmares were real, and they didn’t stop to check a child’s personal hygiene before they clawed or sneered or barked at them. The world belonged to them now. Humanity’s time was at an end.

  At least the human race kept trying. Terry and his friends were proof enough. Even after the apocalypse, people refused to give up. Maybe the same could be true of Cole, however impossible it might seem.

  “Hey,” said John, who had been walking a little behind Terry. “Mei says
we’re stopping soon. You doing alright?”

  “Yeah, fine,” said Terry. “I was only thinking.”

  “About what?”

  “How Cole must be doing,” he said. And that he’s probably dead.

  “We’ll find him soon. No doubt about it.”

  Terry nodded. John was right—they’d find Cole at some point. No matter where he’d been taken. No matter what ditch or hole or cave, they would eventually find him. The real question was whether or not he was alive. If not, what would it mean for the rest of them?

  Guess I’ll find out eventually, thought Terry. One way or another.

  The day dragged on as they marched, but Terry kept himself occupied. He watched the map on his pad, monitoring the brightly colored dots on the screen and their ever-decreasing distance from one another. The map magnified as they drew nearer to the signal, keeping both their location as well as Cole’s within the screen’s borders. Terry looked as often as he could to see if the map had changed, hoping to catch it before it actually performed the magnification. Over the course of the next few hours, it became a sort of game for him—a way to distract from the sour thoughts of what lay ahead.

  As the map continued to zoom in, however, the terrain morphed. At first, the changes were negligible, and for a moment, it seemed as though the map was simply becoming more detailed. A few boulders disappeared or moved, vacant sections of the road became clearer. But the more time passed, the more detailed the map became. Suddenly, the buildings on the map transformed into piles of stones and rubble, while the blank and empty landscape surrounding the roads filled up with abandoned automobiles and shattered highway railings.

  “Wait a second,” Terry said when he realized what was transpiring. The rest of the group stopped quickly alongside him. “Something’s happening to the map.”

  John stood behind him, glancing over his shoulder. “I don’t see anything.”

  “You have to keep watching, but it keeps changing.”

  Mei pulled out her own pad. “He’s right. It’s zooming in the closer we get.”