by Jamie Zakian
PROJECT EMERGENCE
Jamie Zakian
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author makes no claims to, but instead acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the word marks mentioned in this work of fiction.
Copyright © 2017 by Jamie Zakian
PROJECT EMERGENCE by Jamie Zakian
All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America by Month9Books, LLC.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
ePub ISBN: 978-1-945107-97-9 Mobi ISBN: 978-1-945107-98-6
Paperback ISBN: 978-1-945107-85-6
Published by Month9Books, Raleigh, NC 27609
Cover Design by James, GoOnWrite.com
This book is dedicated to the friends and family who supported me while I chased my dreams.
PROJECT EMERGENCE
Chapter One
Joey squirmed in the seat of a large, airtight van as it sped along an empty road. A cloud of red sand kicked up outside her window, and the van’s tires hummed against cracked pavement. Solar flares had done a fine job of destroying this once beautiful planet. She never got to see Earth in its glory days, as she had been born into a scorched world, but could almost picture the way it used to be.
In her imagination, the reddish tint that covered the parched countryside outside her window transformed to crisp green meadows. The piles of stone and metal reconstructed to form the buildings they once were, reaching for a sky that was blue instead of crimson.
Her daydream ended when the nose of a spaceship peeked above maroon-crested hills. That massive shuttle was waiting to carry two hundred and fifty-eight lucky lottery winners off this dying planet, and she was one of them.
“Whoa,” Joey said, her breath fogging the glass. A light crinkle drew her stare to the paper in her now tight grip. She loosened her stiff fingers, smoothing a crease from the official seal of the Unified Nations of Earth.
…The letter in her hand still mesmerized her. Selected … Terraformed Mars … New home … Those words knocked the bottom from her stomach every time she read them. Things were getting way too real. No more tiny lead-lined home, school at the kitchen table, Mom. She turned to Jesse, her brother’s smirk brighter than an X1 flare.
“You’re a crappy twin. I’m freaking out right now; you should be too.”
Jesse rolled his stare her way. “Fraternal twins don’t work like that.”
“That’s not true.” She read the letter again, making sure both their names were listed for the umpteenth time.
“I can’t believe this is happening.” Jesse grew tense. A frown swept his lips for just a moment before his perma-smile returned. “No one from G-Sector ever goes anywhere.”
“Did you see the look on Mom’s face when we left?”
“I know. Buzzkill.”
“What’s she gonna do without us?” Joey asked in a near whisper.
“Finally be able to feed herself.” Jesse snickered.
She shook her head, folding the letter. “Maybe she’ll win the next lottery and meet up with us on Mars.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
Jesse leaned close, keeping his voice low. “Didn’t you hear what that kid behind us was saying?”
“No. What?”
“He said the lottery’s rigged.” Jesse eyed the soldier stationed at the front of the van, then the other two at the rear. “That everyone is selected for a specific purpose.”
“But that would mean the U.N.E. is lying to everyone,” Joey said, a bit too loud. Jesse’s eyes opened wide, and she shrugged.
“You’re gonna get us booted from this ride before we even launch.”
“Whatever,” she muttered. “It’s a stupid idea anyway ‘cause look, we’re here. What do we have to offer? All you can do is fix stuff, and me … well, I’m just good at being cute.” She batted her eyes, flaunting a sly smile.
“Yeah you’re right. That’s real flippin cute.” Jesse slanted toward the aisle, glancing around the cab. “There aren’t any adults on this van.”
“There’s the soldier guys.”
“Geez, dummy. I mean the passengers.”
Joey pinched her brother, who wriggled away. “Dummy,” she mimicked. With a failed attempt to appear casual, she popped her head up and scanned the seats. Sparkly clothes and bright makeup captured her stare. “They look like A-Sectors.” She didn’t mean to gawk at the people seated around her, but she’d never seen such lavish clothes, such flawless skin.
“Please remain seated while the vehicle’s in motion,” a soldier thundered.
Jesse grabbed Joey’s arm and pulled her down into the seat. “Smooth, sister. Real smooth.”
She shrank back, deploying her trusty get-out-of-messes frowny smile on her brother. “Oops. In trouble already. Figures.”
Grumbles erupted from Jesse’s lips, and she turned back to the dusty earth outside her window. Crazy how one day and a trip to the mailbox could change her entire life. Yesterday, she was painting a mural of Mars on their bedroom wall. Today, she was going to Mars.
The parched countryside vanished behind a tunnel wall. She sagged in her seat. For sixteen years, she clung to Jesse. Every time dust storms pelted their windowless metal house, she curled under his arm. Mom worked late, so Joey’s hand became glued to his. And now, when she actually needed the comfort of his touch, her brain decided it was time to man up. Her eyes narrowed. She zeroed in on his cozy-looking hand, her fingers drumming a steady beat on her leg.
***
Sabrina poked her head around a corner. Her fingers tightened around the rifle’s grip as she peered down a dim corridor. Shadows danced along the concrete wall, and she backed up, pressing her comms button. “Stone to dispatch. Come in, dispatch.”
Static crackled in her ear, a garbled voice cutting in and out.
“Dispatch, do you read? Where the hell is my backup?”
This time, only the fizz of dead air replied.
“Damn underground bright-out dens,” Sabrina mumbled.
These missions twisted her gut every time. There were very few people left alive on Earth. Many couldn’t afford specially designed homes or the rising cost of oxygen, and it didn’t sit right to bust folks just for trying to survive the scorching sun. But she was Captain Sabrina Stone of the Unified Nations of Earth, a high ranking officer in the sector that controlled every aspect of the entire planet, and she had a duty to protect what was left of that planet. Neither a heavy conscience nor lack of backup would hinder that.
Sabrina held her weapon close, skulking down the stone passage. Two men strolled around the bend, then stopped short, and she popped off two rounds. No sound emitted from the gun’s muzzle, just a flash that lit the graffiti-stained walls in white.
The men slumped to the ground. Tiny darts protruded from their chests, and pamphlets spilled from their limp hands.
“Earth-heads,” she muttered, glimpsing anti-Mars propaganda. The bang of a metal door slamming shut echoed from the dark tunnel on her left, so she headed toward it.
Men and woman dropped as Sabrina skated through shadows, firing her gun. Their tranquilized bodies slapped concrete, a trail to a solid door at the end of the long hallway. She reached into her vest and extracted a small explosive charge. Just as the magnet clinked to the steel slab, a voice flowed
through her earpiece.
“Captain Stone, we’ve breeched the airlock. En route to your position.”
“Bout time,” she said beneath her breath. Her thumb glided over the button of the wireless detonator, and spikes of fear burrowed into her gut. U.N.E protocol, and the whirl in her stomach, said to wait for backup. Pride, however, was a persistent little sucker, one that set loose a torrent of electric shocks in her veins. She scurried back, covered her head, and pressed the detonation button.
An explosion rocked her chest, slamming her against the wall. Hunks of concrete crashed down, and the door slammed atop the rubble. Sabrina swung her rifle dead ahead. Adrenaline perked her lips into a smile as she charged through wisps of smoke, firing upon everybody that lunged her way.
“This is a raid of the U.N.E. Get down on the ground.”
Soldiers flooded the doorway behind her, and she bit back her grin. A woman needed an iron-clad stare amid this troop of grunts. “Took you guys long enough.” She turned, stumbling back as the five-stars of a general gleamed in her eyes. “Sir,” she roared, standing up straight.
“Captain Stone, I need you to come with me.”
Sabrina glanced around, as much as one could without moving a single muscle in their neck. Her men cleared the room as the general’s elite soldiers crowded around her.
“Am I in trouble, sir?”
“Quite the contrary, Captain. You’ve been selected for an important mission. You’re going to Mars, Soldier.”
***
Joey grabbed her brother’s hand the instant he climbed off the van’s step. People shuffled all around the wide-open room, probably watching her act like a baby, but she couldn’t let go. Fear stole her will. It could have been the towering room of glass walls and silver beams that encompassed her, the barrage of strange faces, or the fact that she’d never see her mother again, but gloom tainted this moment. Holding her brother’s hand quelled a fraction of her inner-turmoil, so she planned to keep doing it despite her sissy appearance.
A soft voice streamed from a kiosk of video screens, repeating the Space Center’s famed slogan.
Three days on the state-of-the-art R23 shuttle, strolling through green grass, swimming in cool oceans.
Everything she memorized from the letter in her backpack.
“Look, there’s check-in,” Jesse said, tugging her from the display of white sandy beaches.
She inched through the crowd, close to his side. They filed into a rowdy line, her palm sweating against his skin.
“The Westen twins, I presume,” a high-pitched voice echoed from behind them.
In one swift move, Joey shook free from Jesse’s grasp and whirled around. An ultra-posh Asian girl leered down, and Joey stood tall. Her eyes wandered to the near identical boy at her side, bearing the same long jet-black hair. Another set of twins.
“How did you know our name?” Jesse asked. Joey nudged his arm, pulling his gaze from the low cut of the girl’s sparkly shirt.
“We know the names of all the twins on this ship,” she said, her hand hoisting to her hip.
“First and last,” the boy added.
Joey stifled a chuckle. Twins who finished each other’s sentences; this trip was going to be stellar. The line shuffled forward, and the small group edged up a few paces.
“How many twins are on this flight?” Jesse asked, glancing between the pair.
“Fourteen, including us,” she replied.
“Well, fourteen sets,” the boy corrected, turning to his sister. “That actually makes twenty-eight twins.”
“But twins is plural, so it would be fourteen,” she argued, a hint of red flaring her cheeks.
“Yeah, but, you knew who we were,” Joey said. “We didn’t even know there were other twins here. Is there, like, a manual we didn’t get or something?”
The girl laughed, slapping her brother’s chest. A stealthy glare clouded her delicate features as she leaned close to Joey. “We hacked the database.”
“We hack everything,” the boy whispered.
“Cool,” Joey said through a smile, glancing at Jesse.
“So you must be Jesse,” the girl said, staring at Joey, “Short for Jessica, right?”
“Ah, no,” Joey said. “I’m Joey. Short for Josephine, which I hate so … just Joey.”
“I’m Jesse, which … isn’t short for anything.” Jesse shoved his hands into his pockets, lowering his gaze.
“Ahem. The line is moving,” a redheaded girl groaned.
They all crept forward again, and then Jesse spun back around. “So are we supposed to hack to find out your names?”
The girl giggled, and Joey rolled her eyes. Her stare landed on the boy’s annoyed face. Once their gaze connected, his frown lifted to a grin.
“Kami Matsuda.” A rainbow of colors reflected off the girl’s clothes as she slinked in front of Jesse, looking up into his eyes. “That’s Rai,” she said, nodding to her brother but keeping her deep gaze on Jesse.
Jesse gulped. His hands began to tremble, and it became painfully obvious at how fast his breath flowed.
“Next in line.”
“That’s us,” Joey said. She all but ripped Jesse from Kami’s leer. “We’ll catch up with ya.” It took quite a massive tug, but she finally got Jesse moving toward the registration table. “Now who’s smooth, dorkus,” she whispered.
***
“Let me get this straight, Mr. Winslow,” Sabrina said, only able to mask a fraction of the edge in her tone. “You want me to be a glorified babysitter for a bunch of teens in space?” She walked across the large office of the Space Center, toward Director Winslow’s desk. Her boots sank into lush carpet as she strolled past stone statues, one of which lost its arm somewhere along the way. Such extravagance. If it were liquidated and spread out, every sector could afford a giant dome to protect its people from radioactive air instead of just the A-Sectors. She tore her gaze from art-adorned walls, catching an impatient glare from the man behind a glossy wooden desk.
“The situation on our hands goes far beyond babysitting, Captain Stone. We’re under attack. The commander of the U.N.E. herself assured me you were the best of the best.”
“Commander Sun said that? Huh.” She stepped closer to the desk. The man before her strained to appear confident, but she glimpsed the beads of sweat that trickled between his dark wrinkled skin and white hair.
“You’ve got my attention,” she said, cupping her hands behind her back.
“Of course you understand every word spoken within this room stays within this room.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Ever since the inception of the Emergence program, a group of fanatics have targeted us. Are you familiar with the Earthisum Movement, Captain Stone?”
“Yes, sir. I took out an underground lair of them this morning. They seem to be, for the most part, harmless.”
“Perhaps on the outside.” He pulled a brown folder from his drawer and placed it on his desk. “Have a look.”
Sabrina flipped through the file. When she read a handwritten letter, which appeared to be scrawled in blood, her fingers actually shook.
“The threats made in that manifesto were not empty.”
Her head snapped up, and she gawked at the old man before regaining her composure. “Are you saying the Earth-heads blew up your first flight to Mars?”
His finely manicured fingers massaged his forehead, a ghostly shade of white claiming his cheeks. “Yes. After only hours in space.” He lowered his stare. “The second and third flights as well.”
“What?”
“Those maniacs sabotage every spacebus we launch. None have successfully made the voyage to Mars.”
“How could you hide this from the public? They think people are living, flourishing over there. You need to put a hold on this program. Now. I’ll need at least a week to investigate.”
He shook his head, and Sabrina slammed her hands on th
e desk. “That file says there are two hundred and fifty-eight children walking onto that shuttle as we speak, Mr. Winslow. Two hundred and fifty-eight lives you’re putting at risk.”
“If we stop the program, they’ve won. No! The survival of the human race is too important. This mission has to succeed, Captain Stone.”
“But why now with kids? If what you’re telling me is true, Mars is empty. There are no doctors, scientists, or security of any kind in place. They’ll eat each other alive out there.”
“It has to be them.” He rose from his seat, smoothed a crease on his pinstriped lapel, and strolled to the window. “Those young adults were born in the year of the massive solar flare.” While gazing out the lightly tinted glass, he motioned for Sabrina to join him.
“I don’t see why that matters.” As she approached, the doublewide spacecraft stole her focus. She allowed her stare to wander along the gleam of curved metal and sharp points of thin wings before she shifted her gaze to the man beside her.
“They’re genetically predisposed to elevated radiation. I handpicked each one of them—for their instincts, spark, and their odds of producing healthy offspring.”
“Look, I get that. But if you just postpone a few weeks I can—”
“Earth only has a few weeks left, Captain Stone.” His voice quavered. He cleared his throat, lifting his chin high. “The sun is set to flare in, approximately, ten days. The space program predicts its intensity will surpass our classification scale. Everything left above the surface will be eradicated. Not even the UV dome of A-Sector can deflect these waves.”
Sabrina gasped. She began to stagger back, but Winslow grabbed her arm.
“Captain Stone, Sabrina. Look at those children.”
Her legs wobbled for the first time in her memory, but she crept forward. People hurried along a glass-encased walkway, far below, like tiny ants marching into a trap.
