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

by JN Chaney

  He awoke screaming. Mei was nearby, staring at him, mud around her eyes and cheeks. She looked exhausted. “I’m here,” she whispered. “It’s okay.” She placed her head on his shoulder and massaged his chest with her palm.

  Sarah lay on the ground, facing the other direction. She didn’t seem to be moving. John watched her for a while, wondering if she was still alive. Sometime later, her foot twitched. He relaxed.

  It wouldn’t be long now.

  They slept.

  ********

  January 11, 2347

  The Surface

  When John awoke, he was terrified to see animals standing over him, clad in reflective, white skin. They kept poking him, moving his arms and legs, repositioning his body. “Check his vitals,” said one of them.

  “This one looks dead,” said another.

  “Not yet but almost.”

  “Get them on the dirt cab.”

  One of the animals snapped its fingers a few inches from his face. “John, can you hear me?” it asked him.

  “Who are you…?” he could barely keep his eyes open.

  “My name is Avery Ross,” said the fading voice. “I’m here to take you home.”

  *******

  John and the others were placed on gurneys, needles and tubes all over their bodies. He could barely feel any of it.

  It only took a few hours to reach the Sling. Ross sat next to all three of them for most of the ride, constantly asking the other soldiers to check the children’s vitals or to refill their I.V. bags.

  The soldiers lined each of the gurneys onto the elevator, one at a time, pushing John in between Sarah and Mei.

  John reached out and touched Mei’s wrist. He didn’t have much strength, so it was all he could do to comfort her. She clenched his finger in her tiny palm, though he barely felt it.

  He didn’t care. It was enough just knowing she could still feel him—that she was there. The world had taken so much from them, but at least they had each other. For what little it mattered, he could be thankful for something, at least.

  As the Sling began its descent, John stared into the sky above. A vast array of silver clouds moved gently through a red and violet firmament, like waves colliding in a slow and gentle sea.

  And as he watched, those waves began to part, pushing back the darkened clouds like curtains, and the hues beneath them changed. That was when he thought he saw it, right before the elevator took him down into the ground—the claw mark of the gods, a window back through time.

  A streak of cerulean blue.

  And he smiled.

  Epilogue

  Terry opened his eyes.

  The air was cold inside his lungs, and below his hands, he felt the sting of ice and snow. His head throbbed with the dull pain of too much sleep.

  He pushed himself, resting for a moment on his elbows before finally twisting around to sit. He needed a moment before he tried to stand.

  Terry stared into the rainbow colored snow, infused with Variant, riddled with signs of his movement. He’d never seen snow before. The closest had been the clumps of frost in the solar fields outside the Ortego building. He wondered if that’s where he was now, somehow thrown from the blast to an undisclosed section of the field.

  He scanned the area. Shards of broken metal from the building had blown all over the place, buried in the snow and rocks. There was a large stone ridge nearby, stretching far into the sky.

  Sliding in the snow, he inched a few feet toward the rocky edge, surprised to find himself atop a cliff. There were trees below him, their leaves concealing all that lay beneath. He’d never seen trees before. This certainly wasn’t the solar field. So where exactly had the blast propelled him?

  He took a deep breath. The air was so sweet, so refreshing and full of Variant. Perhaps the elevation had something to do with it.

  He got to his feet with the aid of the stone nearby, stumbling at first, but quickly finding his balance. With his hand against the rock, he moved to the other side of the ridge in hopes of finding a better view.

  With a new vantage, looking out into the valley below, he saw a wide expanse of blue jungle trees and glowing grass as far as his eyes could see. Several birds chirped loudly amid the leaves, squeaking and cawing at one another, until finally they flapped their wings and set their minds to flight.

  Terry’s eyes followed them, rising high into the sky above. The clouds, long and full, were much lighter than any he’d seen before. The light of the sun beat against them, which Terry followed, and then his eyes went wide.

  He nearly stumbled at the spectacle before him—a brazen truth beyond compare.

  There, shining high atop the distant horizon, two foreign suns danced quietly together, deep in the heart of another world.

  Transient Echoes Preview

  Read on for a special preview of Transient Echoes: The Variant Saga Book 2

  Prologue

  Under a violet sky on a distant world, deep in the heart of a cerulean jungle, a teenage boy ran for his life.

  The predator was close behind him, roaring, snapping branches as it crashed through the dense undergrowth, a growing blur in the distance. The boy kept low, clutching an armful of fruit to his chest. He would drop the food if it came to it, but not a moment before. The boy had searched for over a day for something to eat. He wasn’t about to give it up.

  He leapt over a fallen log, bursting through the tree line into an open field of tall grass. A large cliff stood in the distance, rising two hundred meters above the ground. His camp was at the top. He’d be safe there…if he could make it.

  He darted through stalks of glowing blue grass. Rigid stems whipped against his skin as he ran but didn’t slow him. After a hundred meters, he stopped, glancing back to see if the beast was still following. Where had it gone?

  Silence filled the air, broken only by the blowing wind as it whirled through the valley, hitting his cheeks. He stared at the jungle, waiting.

  A thunderous cry sent a flock of birds scattering from the treetops. The monster burst through the shroud of foliage into the open field, stopping a few meters from the grass. Finally in clear view, the boy could see the animal was massive. On all fours, it stood two meters tall. Thick brown hair covered most of its body, save its snout. A pair of crimson eyes fixated on the boy. Below them, two gray tusks large enough to skewer a grown man protruded. The beast’s thick calves were like cords of wood. Ropes of muscle underneath the skin stretched and tightened with every stomp.

  It reared on its hind legs, towering over the field.

  The boy took a step back.

  The beast edged forward.

  With newfound motivation, the boy exploded into a mad dash toward the base of the cliff. The cries and thunderous footfalls of the predator followed.

  As he neared the rock face, he could hear the creature getting closer. A rope dangled before him, lodged safely between two stones. He’d fashioned it over a year ago. It was the only means of reaching the top of the ridge. He slid to a quick halt, kicking dirt and grass into the air. The beast was closing fast.

  He tugged the rope, freeing it from the crevice, and climbed, using his feet and only one arm as he hugged the precious fruit close to his chest.

  The animal arrived within seconds, ramming into the cliff face, sending a shower of loose stones to the ground. A few hit the creature’s tusks, shattering into dust. It shook its head and roared, standing on its hind legs and scraping the rock wall in a vain attempt to follow its prey.

  The boy did not look back. As he found the top of the cliff, he clasped the mat of blue grass and pulled himself over the edge. He swung his legs around and collapsed onto his back, releasing the fruit in his hands along with a sigh. The cries of the predator continued in the distance below him, but the fear of death was gone. He was safe.

  The buttercream clouds passed overhead, partially blocking the light of the two suns, shading him. He scratched his c
hin, rubbing the stubble of a half-grown beard. He decided not to move again until the animal had gone, so he stayed on his back, waiting for reprieve.

  The beast continued to whine, clawing at the rocks. Slowly, its cries grew softer, and it was not long before the monster turned and stomped toward the forest.

  The boy sat up and stretched his arms, cracking his spine. He collected the fruit and headed toward his hut. The cliff was narrow, but widened into a spade shape. It curved and extended roughly eighty meters before dropping off. His home lay in the center between two stone walls under a large tree with wide branches and thick leaves. Beside the tree, a small brook flowed from a crack in the rock, providing fresh water. The hut itself held little space, but the boy didn’t mind. He lived alone and had for quite a while now.

  After placing the rest in a basket, he snagged a piece of fruit along with his bone knife and went to the stream nearby. The produce was colorful, primarily magenta with dashes of turquoise and yellow throughout the skin. He split it open with the blade and the pink juice washed over his fingers. The smell was therapeutic, a sweet and relaxing aroma which filled his nose and watered his mouth. He bit hard into the fruit, hardly chewing as he gulped the chunks of moist produce down. His tongue barely had time to register the taste, he swallowed so quickly. He gasped as the last of it disappeared, finally remembering to breathe.

  Despite the recent contribution, his stomach growled.

  After rinsing the knife in the brook, he set it to the side and washed his face. The juice dripped from his cheeks into the stream, filling it with a pink glow. The boy stared into the water, watching as the natural flow of the brook returned. With it, another man’s face. Encased in chestnut hair—unkempt and naturally wild—a thin beard persisted over a strong jaw line. The stranger’s nose was thin, tucked between a set of dirt-encrusted cheeks. Who was he? What did he want? The boy stared at him, studying the unfamiliar features. The hair, the nose, the neck, the forehead.

  But the eyes—yes, those were familiar. Piercing green and calm, the boy knew them well. They had belonged to him once, years ago, before this horrible place had stolen him away. Before he switched the machine off and disappeared—fell through a crack in space and landed on another world.

  Those eyes, they remembered a two story apartment, deep in an underground city—the last human colony on Earth—and the family of three who lived there. They recalled the school—teachers and friends, learning and books, laughing and training. People used to say the children there were special.

  In those days, the green eyes belonged to the boy alone. Now he shared them with this stranger and his tangled beard.

  Terry, a voice whispered in his mind. It was a young girl. He knew her well. What’s a birthday? What does it mean?

  He smiled into the brook, and the man returned it. “It means you grow up and get to start school,” he whispered. “It’s a pretty big deal.”

  I wish I could go with you, she said. The words lingered as a gust blew through the peak. The tree sighed overhead, rustling its leaves.

  Terry shuddered, swallowing the lump in his throat. He wondered how long the voice would stay today. He usually enjoyed the visits, but only when he initiated them. He didn’t like it when they came uncalled. “Janice, go away.”

  When will you be back? She asked.

  As if to answer, a well of tears formed in his eyes, and he gasped. I broke my promise, he thought. I said I’d come back, and I never did. I lost her. I lost them all.

  The more he remembered, the more he wept until a steady flow of gentle sobs bled out of him and poured into the water. The tears fell, distorting the image of the man, colliding with the familiar emerald eyes the boy knew so well.

  Chapter 1

  Ortego Outpost File Logs

  Play Audio File 264

  Recorded: April 12, 2350

  FINN: How long until you come home?

  CURIE: Not for another week. We’re still establishing the outpost.

  FINN: But you’ve been gone a month already.

  CURIE: These things take time. Besides, you’re always disappearing to go on some mission or another. Can’t I do the same? Go ask Colonel Ross to give you some busywork if you’re bored.

  FINN: I’m not bored. I just miss my girlfriend.

  CURIE: I know. I miss you, too. But I can’t leave my team in the middle of a project. I have responsibilities. We all do.

  FINN: Can I visit, at least?

  CURIE: All the way out here?

  FINN: Sure, why not?

  CURIE: It’s desolate and empty. There’s only five of us. You’d be so bored.

  FINN: Our birthday is in two days, Mei. We always spend it together. Who cares if there’s nothing to do?

  CURIE: Hm. I’m not sure…

  FINN: Don’t make me start with the pet names.

  CURIE: Okay! You win. Come and be with me in the desert. Let us sit together and stare at the dirt.

  FINN: What a softy you are.

  CURIE: Just shut up and get here.

  FINN: I’m already packing a bag.

  End Audio File

  Ortego Reconstruction Outpost

  April 12, 2350

  Mei Curie sat on a slab of metal debris, staring into the solar fields of the former Ortego headquarters. The panels glistened with the sunlight, unmoving. They looked exactly as they had on the day of the Second Jolt over three years ago, back when the sky erupted and a crater had formed at the edge of this field. Mei had stood here and watched it happen. It still gave her nightmares.

  “Doctor Curie?” shouted Sophia Mitchell, but everyone called her Sophie. Mei stared at the M2280 on the girl’s face and neck, otherwise known as a breather, a machine used to filter Variant from the air. It was hard to believe how far technology had come. Before the Second Jolt a few years ago, the idea of walking around on the surface without a protective suit on was laughable. Variant affected all organic cells, killing biological matter from the inside, so any exposure usually resulted in death.

  Mei had been genetically engineered from birth to endure Variant, but most weren’t so lucky. Instead, thanks in part to the blood of people like Mei, a vaccine had been created. This didn’t allow anyone to breathe the corrupted air, however. It only kept their cells from degenerating. So the breather had been created, and with it, a massive step forward in the battle to take back the surface.

  Sophie handed Mei a digital pad. “Lieutenant Finn called. He said to tell you he’s on his way.”

  “Thanks,” she said, checking the report and handing it back. “Let me know when he arrives, will you?”

  Sophie nodded and returned to the tent.

  Mei sighed, digging the heel of her boot into the wet earth, dragging clumps of dirt toward her. The world was changing. With it, the human race. Each day, progress was being made to bring mankind to the surface. In the last few years, several outposts had been established, the range of the radio towers extended, and most of the hostile threats eliminated. Just as the first Jolt had brought about a great change, the second had created a new age all its own. For the first time in two hundred years, humanity was no longer stagnant.

  A horn honked in the distance. Mei turned and spotted a dirt cab a kilometer and a half down the road.

  She got to her feet and jogged to the main research tent. “Sophie,” she called.

  Sophie poked her head out of the flap. “Yes, ma’am?” Despite only being a year younger than Mei, Sophie always treated her with the same respect she gave the older staff. The girl was remarkably intelligent and exceptionally mature for her age. Her thesis on the Ortego Corporation’s lesser-known technologies had prompted Mei to look her up, despite a lack of field experience. Unlike most of the senior staff and many of the newer PhDs, the young Sophia Mitchell possessed what Mei considered one of the more valuable personality traits—a penchant for the unconventional. During her training, Sophie had a knack for coming up with outland
ish solutions to complex problems. It was why Mei had taken a shine to her in the first place, despite her instructors’ objections. “She doesn’t follow procedure,” Doctor West had said when Mei inquired. “It’s as though she’s intent on failing her classes.”

  Mei didn’t care about any of that. Where so many others saw failure and a lack of focus, Mei found an ignored creative spark in need of sustenance. Six months after attaining her own doctorate, and shortly before receiving authorization for her new team, Dr. Mei Curie approached Sophia Mitchell about becoming her apprentice, and the girl readily accepted it. Mei never regretted it for a second. “Lieutenant Finn is almost here. Let the others know I’ll be meeting with him and to only bother me if there’s an emergency.”

  Sophie looked confused. She stepped out of the tent and glanced at the camp entrance. “I didn’t receive any transmission. Where is he? I don’t see him.”

  “Down the road. Five minutes out, maybe.”

  “Sometimes I forget how good your eyes are. I’m a little jealous.”

  “I’d take your height over my eyes if I could,” said Mei, laughing.

  Sophie grinned. “Enjoy your time with the lieutenant, Doctor.”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” said Mei.

  Sophie gave her a look that said, You’re not fooling anyone, and then receded into the tent.

  Mei headed toward the entrance to the camp and waited for John’s cab to arrive. She was torn about his visit. On the one hand, he brightened her day, and she loved seeing him. On the other, he wasn’t a scientist. There wouldn’t be much for him to do but sit and stare at the ground, something he was sure to complain about. John was a soldier, an active explorer in the physical world, always on the go, never slowing. It wouldn’t take him long before he grew tired of the boredom and isolation of this place.