CHOSEN: A Paranormal, Sci-Fi, Dystopian Novel (24 page)

“I
think this may be a smaller secondary power source, if anything. Based on where
we are on the ARC, it wouldn’t make sense to have the central power here. We
have to keep moving. I want to get to this last point before we go back,”
Stephen said, starting to walk again, his pace a little faster.

Stella
gave the door one last look and then joined Stephen as they continued. She had
the distinct sense that it held something other than power but even trying to
tune in, she got nothing. Not a whisper of thought, not an image, or a
sensation of taste or smell. It was like nothing was back there, but something
definitely was. 

They
could still hear the strange groaning and moaning sounds. As they continued the
sounds became fainter until Stephen couldn’t hear them any longer and they were
just a whisper to Stella. Then, they were gone.

“We
have just a little bit further to go. For some strange and very disconcerting reason
this blueprint presents no distances, no measurement - anywhere. Marco said
there is another one that is a bigger file size. Maybe that one will be more
complete. It would be helpful to know how far we’ve gone and how long we have before
we get to this last location check,” Stephen said pointing to a bubble floating
on his screen. Stella looked at the bubble and then the green flashing dot that
showed where they were.

“I
could try to estimate based on the approximate size of the honeycombs and the
average pace of our walking and,” he stopped speaking as Stella cut him off.

“It’s
okay, Stephen. We are probably pretty close,” she said, clearly irritated. This
wasn’t the kind of exploring she had in mind. She was hoping to unlock some
doors, find some secrets, something more along the lines of what they’d done in
Southern Allegiance. This was nothing like that.

They
went around a few more turns and the flashing green light on the tablet moved
slowly towards the location check.

“I
can’t believe all of these doors are locked,” Stella said as she gently pushed
against almost every door to test them. “I guess we really are part of some top
secret project,” she frowned. “What do you think it’s all about? I think mom,
dad, Mave, Rupert, and all those other people are trying to protect the ocean
life as part of an indicator for overall environmental health. They are trying
to make sure we don’t damage the overall ecology of Earth any more than we
have. I believe they are doing that,” she stopped then and Stephen walked into
her as he stared at the tablet. “Stephen!” she complained impatiently.

“Yes.
I’m sorry. What were you saying?” he asked. 

“Ugh!
Stephen! Never mind. Anyways, I think that mom and dad are doing what we know
they are doing as far as the environment and ocean and keeping on top of the
emissions pumps. BUT, I think they are also doing something else. Something
they aren’t telling us. That’s what I think,” she said smugly. She started
walking again. 

As
she walked Stella continued talking, letting her voice carry behind her, “Why
else would there be a freaking maze down here with dozens of locked doors and
that’s just what we’ve seen so far. They know something and they are the ones
who were here to build it. Dad designed it. We should just ask him about all of
this. Have him take us on a real tour rather than us sneaking around finding
nothing. Well except for some engine groaning and moaning,” Stella finally
stopped speaking. 

“We’re
here, Stella,” Stephen was finally able to say. This is the last location check
we have to do for us to move on tomorrow. 

“But
I want to come back to RS11 first, then we can go to the next level,” she said.

“Agreed.
Give me just a second to let this register that we are here before we leave,”
Stephen said. 

Stephen
waited for the tablet to register the last location check and then looked down
the other side of the honeycomb hall.

“We’ll
go back this way, just to see what’s around that side. It should be about the
same distance back to the top. Besides, there’s something interesting ahead on
the other side. It looks like it is just about opposite the other secondary
power system behind door RS11. I want to walk by there and just see if maybe
it’s another smaller control room,” he said.

“We
can’t tell anyways, Stephen. The door will be locked.” The excitement was now
gone for Stella. “It’ll just be another door with moaning and groaning sounds
coming through it that we can’t enter.”

She
knew Stephen was just trying to get her back into this expedition the best way
he could but she was ready to go back up, eat lunch, and relax, especially
since they didn’t have time right now to come back to RS11.

They’d
be headed home in just a few days now. Then there would be all the unpacking
and finishing the last weeks of school there, which meant she needed time to
get her hair done and pick up some new accessories once they were back. She’d
already moved on in her mind. Now all that was left was for them to get out of
the grey building that reminded her of the old prisons they’d toured during
history studies as a child. At least upstairs was more vibrant and lively.

Stephen
moved quietly ahead of Stella. He wanted to see if another power system was on
the other side. If so, he reasoned there might be more in order to produce
enough power for the ARC to operate independent of any other outside power
source. 

He
thought about how much energy it must use every day. As he heard the sounds he
wondered if down here the widely used models initially discovered by Tesla were
the source. Stephen imagined they would have to be enormous models given the
size and that multiple devices must be located throughout the ARC.

They
continued their silent trek in the shadows until Stella heard the faint but
familiar sound of groaning. She slowed down. “Did you hear that?” she asked
Stephen. 

“No.
What was it?” he asked.

“It
sounds like the same thing we heard on the other side. I think you may have
found another power system for the ARC. I bet there are more considering how
big it is. We definitely need to ask Dad for a tour. Tell him it’s for science
class and promise him we’ll keep everything top secret,” Stella said,
optimistically hoping their dad might consider it. Stephen would have a better
chance convincing him.

“Let’s
head back up. I can’t check the secure system Marco is using to send us the
opened files from down here. Maybe he’s sent something that might give us some
better clues to what all these sections and room codes mean. Of course it would
be nice to know how big the ARC is too,” Stephen said with excitement.

Antarctic Research Center

Stella and Stephen
were on the same level as everyone in the ROC Room located across the ARC. They’d
managed to cover the full area of the second level, despite having learned
little about what was behind the locked doors. 

Zura
sat between Mave and Johan with Rupert beside Mave. The team’s backs were towards
the ocean and windows at the oval conference table. The stern faces of the men
and women they’d been employed by for the past two decades looked at them from
across the table. Her team was like family to her and the others had always
been like good acquaintances. 

In
years past, the meetings had always been a bit celebratory - a check in on the
work done and the facility. Talking about their children and plans for after
the season on the ARC ended. This year, the tension could be felt from before
they touched down in Antarctica and it had only gotten higher from there. 

Her
favorite pilot, Jonathan Adams, had brought them over and Johan had gone out to
meet them and bring them back. They’d come back in near silence once they’d
dispensed with the customary cordial greetings. 

Johan
had brought them into the ROC room and Zura could tell immediately that they
were angling, considering their approach and how they would instill their
opinions and ensure the desired objectives were met. 

That
year three representatives had made the trip from each of the funders. Representatives
Magiro and Silver were joined by a high ranking official named Admiral General
Mylar of the Combined Operations for Peace and Security. He was a regular
attendee of the annual review meeting and often drove the discussions, despite
Zura’s attempt to maintain control.

From
UniCorps they brought Chief Scientist Dr. Tomas Sporgsman from the emissions
pumping side of the global organization as well as the Chief Scientist Dr.
Cliven Phillips and Lead Researcher Dr. Sandy Ashby from the environmental,
ecological, and impact side of what was formally known as the Technology,
Science, and Development Division.

The
beautiful ocean view in front of the guests seemed to barely make an impression
on the temperaments. For this occasion they had coffee, hot cocoa, fresh
squeezed juices and the chef’s specialty breakfast. Zura always felt it was
better to have difficult conversations over good food.

She’d
instructed the ARC’s cook to prepare a full brunch with eggs, bacon, sausage,
tofu sausage, muffins, grits, pancakes, and French toast. Johan insisted she was
overdoing it, but she argued that it was harder to be angry when sitting around
a table filled with delicious food. 

But
the tense pleasantness had ended soon after everyone had enjoyed their brunch.
The last bite had barely been chewed and swallowed before UniCorps set in. 

For
the past couple of hours they’d hammered into Zura and her team about the
importance of the work they were doing. While the funders interrogated her
team, they were, however, unwilling to share anything with the ARC team at all.
Instead it was a barrage of questions to learn exactly what they’d found, how
much they knew about what they’d found, and what each finding meant. 

They
were going around and around in circles and Mave recognized the tactic meant to
confuse them and have them second guess themselves and their research. She,
like her coworkers, was confident that their information was solid and since
the transmission more than a week before, they’d gotten even better information
from the Science Institute and other partners. 

After
this meeting, there was no doubt there would be several other meetings between
the Science Divisions of the World Consensus and UniCorps with all of their
partners and grantees. The others would be drilled just like they were and
reminded of their allegiance to the World Consensus and of any non-disclosure
agreements that might have been signed. 

Rupert
sat quietly, contemplating all that was said, done, and not said, as was his
way. He didn’t believe anything coming from their lips and was busy making
mental notes of the path of their circular arguments.

Every
person in that room could be personally affected by what they had found, yet
neither UniCorps nor the World Consensus, particularly Mylar, were at all
phased by that reality, which Rupert found odd. Instead, they were adamant
about tying their hands. At the same time they were trying to make it seem okay
to do nothing, just because it was legal to do nothing. 

When
time for the long overdue lunch break finally came Admiral General Mylar stood
up. He immediately requested that Johan take them on the tour to see the
storage areas on the lower level. Johan knew the ARC better than anyone and had
given the tour every year since it was completed.

This
year was different. Zura hadn’t done a fancy lunch since they had a large
brunch and wouldn’t be meeting over lunch. They needed something they could
walk with and had ordered the chef to prepare simple sandwiches. It wasn’t
fancy but after how the morning had gone she was glad she hadn’t gone all out
for the group for lunch as well.

As
they grabbed sandwiches to eat during the break, Johan could feel the nausea
build in his stomach. Once again, he would journey into the belly of the beast.
He gave a weary glance to his wife before they headed out and hoped that the
solution that had to be out there would be found, and fast.

Gregor
Magiro had barely spoken to any of the members who’d come from UniCorps. The
tension between their two main funding groups was as plain as the sandwiches
they were eating. They weren’t in agreement about what should be done. Though
they rarely openly disagreed, he’d been around them long enough to know all
wasn’t well.

Representative
Silver had barely spoken at all and although she didn’t speak much, she usually
offered some wise piece of advice or a new way of looking at the issue. On this
day, she was quiet when it came to the main conversation. On more than one
occasion, Representative Magiro had tried to follow UniCorps questions to the
ARC team with another question aimed more at World Consensus or UniCorps. It
hadn’t gotten past Johan or the rest of the team. But even his questions went
unanswered.

Johan
wasn’t sure where Admiral General Mylar stood on how the situation should
eventually be resolved. He’d been the most vocal in his questions and the one person
most against telling anyone outside of those already approved to know, and that
concerned Johan.

Up
until five years before, Mylar’s visits to the ARC had only been every two to
three years. Since then he’d come each year during the final reporting and his
largest interest was always the tour and being updated on the progress of the
programs Johan ran.

His
interest was rarely what was happening in those science labs, but this year
he’d shown more interest in what was happening on that side too. Johan hoped it
meant he might be willing to do something about it. At the same time, he
wondered if the original plan as he’d understood it had been changed and he just
wasn’t aware yet.

Everyone
in that room had staked their reputations, sacrificed good parts of their
lives, for the ARC and what it meant for all of their futures. In that regard,
Johan was no different.

As
the group headed down the honeycomb halls, winding and turning towards the door
marked ‘No Entry’, the six visitors and Johan tried to chat casually about
their homelands in between bites of their sandwiches. The conversation felt
forced and fake. When the dead space of silence crawled into the conversation,
no one broke it and Johan took it as a welcome relief. He couldn’t wait to get
back above ground and for this visit to end. 

Johan
opened the door and let his guests walk through ahead of him and down the
stairs before allowing the door to close behind him. They walked down the ramp
towards the first honeycomb chamber, taking the same steps Stella and Stephen
had taken earlier. 

“Progress
is going well for the next phase of the ARC,” Johan said. “We’ve had great
success with growing food in our greenhouse. Johan opened a door to his left
and they all filed in. 

The
group continued through another door and down a long hallway with the same
lights. They stepped along the concrete floor triggering the light sensors which
lit up the next twenty feet or so ahead of them, until they reached a small
keeping room. They entered the small keeping room that kept the greenhouse
sterile and secure. Looking through the glass they could see inside to an open
area that was the size of a football stadium. 

The
room was bustling with activity. Men and women working inside moved about
performing all sorts of activities. There were groups busied with checking the
leaves, watering the soil, adjusting the artificial grow lights, pruning, or
harvesting the fruits and vegetables that were ready. 

“We’ve
been successful in growing corn, tomatoes, a variety of lettuces, spinach,
eggplant, lentils, a variety of legumes, apples, pears, strawberries, mangoes
and bananas, in a special room, and more. We haven’t been able to grow rice
because of the requirements for significant amounts of water, which we are
still working on, but we can grow potatoes and other substitutes. Within a year
we should have a fully functioning, self-sustaining, fresh supply of fruits,
vegetables, beans, legumes, and grains,” Johan informed the ARC guests. 

Before
long a small group of staff had brought over trays for them to sample their
produce. There were small white paper cups with fresh tomatoes cut up, spinach
leaves, and cut apples for the group to sample. 

“They
all taste so normal,” Representative Silver said, surprised after taking a bite
from all three. She let the taste of the tomato linger on her tongue. It was
one of her favorite foods. “It doesn’t taste like it’s engineered,” she added. The
others made similar remarks, pleased with the progress.  

After
leaving the produce farming section of the ARC, the group walked through
another door with the same set up. There was a second inside door followed by
another long hallway with the same lights. When they finally reached the small
keeping room for this area Johan spoke. 

“In
here we have our dairy and poultry pasture. We recognize that the expense and
resources required to maintain full size animals for eating is too great but we
can still have dairy and eggs. This pasture is already supplying the dairy
needs and enough eggs for everyone on the ARC who cares to partake, even now. Best
of all, everything is fresh,” Johan said with confidence. 

“Excuse
me,” Johan called out to one of the workers in the pasture. “Can you give us
samples of the milk?” Johan smiled.

He
was proud with how the cows were producing and that the taste was on par with
cows kept in fields, without them being kept in tiny pens. The cows were free
to roam within a large area which appeared to be nearly the size of almost two
football fields. The chickens had coops placed around the front section. 

A
few years earlier, the engineers had brought in natural grass and laid it on
top of a surface made to absorb excess water. The water would be recycled back
into the ARC’s water system for purification and watering of plants in the
garden. There were at least two hundred hens in the pasture. In separate
smaller pens were three dozen or so cocks. 

The
pasture keeper handed Johan and his guests each a small cup of milk and waited
for their reaction. 

“Wow.
It’s better than it was even just last year,” Representative Magiro remarked. “What
did you do differently?” he asked. 

Johan
looked at him and the others. “We had to modify a few things in their diet and
over the past nine or ten years we have begun replacing the bulls with those
originating in areas that were less affected by the pollution and
commercialization process of food. They were more ‘pure’ so to speak, so what
they produce as far as their offspring is concerned has been better too. It
took a few years for us to find a good balance of the diet since we have to
provide a diet that will be sustainable in the long-term.” 

“Great
job on the food so far, Johan. You should be very pleased with the work your
team is doing,” Magiro complimented Johan. “This research and your success has
the potential to bring sustainable and reliable food to areas that are hard
served now,” he said, pleased at how well that initiative was going.

“Have
we been as successful with the other project?” The Admiral General asked Johan.

Johan
looked at the Admiral General with confidence, “Yes, sir. We have. Things are
going according to the design and nearly everything is in place for the last
phase.”

“And
if we needed to expedite all of this to happen within the next year; would it
be possible?” the Admiral General said turning to look Johan in the eye. 

Johan
took a deep breath. “It would be extremely challenging, maybe even improbable
given that the rest of us are leaving soon and the amount of time that is
required for the bonding to take place. That alone isn’t something we have been
able to force to happen any sooner. And the only people remaining are those
working on these levels on these projects. For us to be ready in a year, would
mean the team staying and figuring out how to speed up the process. The science
just isn’t there yet and it isn’t something we’ve been trying to do since we
were fine with our timeline. Has something changed?” Johan asked.