CHOSEN: A Paranormal, Sci-Fi, Dystopian Novel (6 page)

“Yes,
that is true. We have not been able to secure the eighth yet,” Dr. Lima said
sounding more timid than the others.’

“The
eighth is the final piece and essential to the success of our mission,” the
voice of San said with concern.

“You
told us you would be able to handle it. We are running out of time,” Yin
chided.

“I
understand,” Dr. Lima replied to the implied question. “But we have seven. We
know who they are and where. The mission can still begin while we continue to
work on the eighth. It is still possible for it to move forward to the end, if
we don’t have him.”

“Yes,
it can begin” Cho spoke, “but without the eighth we have to formulate an
entirely new strategy with new people who haven’t ever been prepped, who
haven’t been guided by their Keepers, who may not hold on to the Awakening
should we even be able to facilitate it. Or, we have to take the other route
and the Earth Council prefers not to go through that route.” 

“Yes,
the eighth is mission critical” San chimed in, agreeing. “We risk generations
of work and effort if we cannot bring the eighth in for the Awakening.”

“I
believe there is a bit of drama here. We all know that the Awakening would
certainly help, but the eighth not being a part of it is not mission critical.
Besides, there is always more than one solution. I know we will find a way and
you won’t have to take the other route. I for one…”Dr. Lima stopped speaking
and she looked around for a moment. “Wait please,” she whispered softly.

Dr.
Lima walked towards the door, trying to keep her heels from clacking against
the floor. She pulled the door open to an empty hallway. As she looked down the
hallway, she saw one of the glass paned doors leading to the larger room close
shut. She had an idea who it might have been. She closed the door to the room
where the others looked at her curiously, and sat back down.

“What
was it?” Yin asked. Dr. Lima hesitated telling her guests. She didn’t want them
to have any more concerns about the mission than they already had.

“I
thought I heard something, but it was nothing.” Dr. Lima looked at the three
representatives, Yin, San, and Cho who’d come to see her. They were aware that
she wasn’t being fully truthful and suddenly Dr. Lima felt defensive. “There
was nothing to see. Whoever it was had already gone,” Dr. Lima added to her
comment.

“It’s
not safe to talk here anymore. At least not now,” Cho said nervously.

“The
campus will be back to normal in just a couple of days. Let’s talk again then.
Same place, same time,” Dr. Lima suggested. 

Dr.
Lima closed the door and turned off the lights. Her guests could see their way
out. She walked back through the hall the way the students had gone and back
through the same glass paned doors to the large room. Dr. Lima paused for a
moment seeming to feel the room with her mind.

Someone
had been in there. She’d felt their chi residue in the hall as well. It felt
like the same energy she’d felt when talking with Alexis and Stella not long
before. She didn’t know how much they’d heard and was suddenly glad for the
policy of no names and no specifics when meeting on this side. There couldn’t
be any more interruptions like that or any more delays in general.

She
walked through the door leading back out to the campus courtyard and looked
around before locking the building behind her. Alexis and Stella stood in the
window of their darkened room looking out through the sheers at Dr. Lima as she
hurried across the courtyard to her campus apartment.

Antarctic Research Center

The small band
on Stephen’s wrist was beginning to wear at his patience with its silence,
mocking him. He wondered if it was working properly and considered taking it off
and checking its functions.

Unclasping
it, he turned it over in his hand to inspect it. The technology he and nearly
everyone else wore on their wrist told the time, made and received calls,
messages, and other tele-transmissions, could connect to the international web
of information and social networking for news, other televised programming, and
was programmed to monitor the wearer’s vital signs and link to the
registration.

The
device was commonly called a watch because it had been effectively designed to
allow the World Consensus to watch over all registered citizens while providing
the citizens with access to everything they needed to be active, productive, socially,
and economically involved.

There
was nothing wrong with it. “
Where is she?”
he pondered
.
Stephen
paced nervously in his bedroom, stopping every so often in front of the double
paned storm window. The interior steel shutters were magnetically held against
the wall. He tapped it lightly, as he often did. It was secure.

He
glanced out the window, as if suddenly she’d be there knocking at the pane
telling him to hurry outside to see some intricate ice crystal formation or the
colors painted on a passing cloud. The only thing he saw was snow and ice,
packed down in most places. Patches of grey rocky ground peaked through where
the ice and snow had long ago receded and hadn’t come back yet.

Back
within the confines of his orderly room he kept a consistent stride between his
desk and the window. What he was really looking for eluded him, as he had yet
to find it. It was his first Spring break without Stella. Now, after a few days
he found himself missing her nonstop talking which could sometimes irritate
him.

The
door to his room squeaked lightly as he opened it to look down the hall. He
already knew she wouldn’t be there, but couldn’t resist checking again. The idea
of Stella possibly arriving without him knowing was senseless. Why would she
come back before she was supposed to? Especially her, and to the ARC. No one
came or went without planning, preparation, and someone knowing.

Without
Stella the ARC felt more like a large sterile prison, where he was trapped and
isolated. He’d spent every Summer of his life since he was five in this frozen
tundra. It had always been no man’s land. No one wanted it but every year he
was here just the same for six months most years.

When
they were young they only spent the few months that marked the Antarctic Summer
on the ARC, but as they grew older Zura and Johan wanted them to spend more
time there, on the ARC as a family. Now, just when it would start getting cold
in Northern Allegiance, they would leave the mild winters of their home in New
South City for what was arguably the coldest place in the world.

But
Stella, she wasn’t here with him and his heart literally ached. She hadn’t sent
him a message yet today and it was already 10:04 a.m. by her time. He kept
looking at the wall expectantly. She always messaged him by 10:00 a.m..

“What’s
wrong? Where is she?” he wondered again aloud, as he checked the time on his
watch for the one hundredth time and began tapping his fingers together.

Stephen
passed the mirror and noticed his long grey jersey shirt not evenly tucked into
his black cargo style pants. He fixed his clothing and smoothed his hair. He’d
shot up over the past year and was finally taller than Stella. He was still
thin and had not grown much muscle on his lean frame. He had hoped to add some
weight and muscle while in Antarctica but not much had changed and their time
on the ice was nearly up.

By
May they needed to head back to Northern Allegiance where they could continue
their research, taking files and samples with them. They’d set up their data
reporting systems and then prepare to come back when the temperatures began to
rise again to barely tolerable in Spring. Most of the other staff on the ARC
wouldn’t come until Summer had broken.

Before
he could begin wondering anymore, he heard the ding and felt the vibration on
his arm. It was Stella.
Finally
. She wanted to do a video call. “
Of
course, it’s Wednesday
,” Stephen thought to himself. She’d told him that on
Wednesday she would call him during her morning break at camp which was in Southern
Allegiance, once known as South America.

Stephen
rubbed his head and clicked the button on the wall which projected her image
into the empty space above his desk. There she was, smiling at him.

“Miss
me much, little brother?” she asked. “I know you were pacing by the window and
the wall. You need to relax, I think I was five minutes late,” she teased him. She
could see he was upset.

“Where
were you? Why were you late? You promised you’d call right at your break? It’s
10:07 a.m.!” he huffed at her impatiently.

Stella
knew it bothered his sense of order and routine when things weren’t like they
were supposed to be or if they didn’t go according to plan.

“I’m
sorry Stephen. I had some problems with this new interface. I didn’t mean for
you to worry. How is it back there?”

Stephen
hung his head and rolled his shoulders. He then glanced down at the closed
notebook he had on his desk. A pencil sat beside it, line to line, its point
sharp to the touch. Sometimes he liked the feel of paper and a pencil, even if
it made no sense when you could get away with not writing anything at all.

Still
upset but happy she was finally there, he tried to answer her question and thought
to himself about the long three days since she left. He considered the fact
that she only had to leave him because she refused to do her work when she was
supposed to and was forced to go to camp.

He
avoided looking up and letting her see his eyes. “I’m okay, I guess. We’re very
busy here. There’s a lot to do - more than usual,” he paused and the silence
stretched on.

Their
mom and dad were busy with their research. Stephen had gotten to a point where
he could help them and he actually enjoyed it. However, it could become too
much. They would go on for twelve to fourteen hours on a regular day, barely
breaking to allow themselves to eat a real meal. He was lonely and he was tired
but, most of all, he was concerned about what was happening.

“What’s
got you so busy?” Stella finally asked.

“Just
some testing, data collection and data analysis. The usual, but not quite. We
have to wrap up in the next couple weeks and there’s just a lot. UniCorps and
the World Consensus Science Branch will be coming sometime between next week
and the following week. I’ll tell you when you get back.” Silence again
stretched on as Stephen stared at her image and the fuchsia lipstick and matching
hair band with fuchsia and other bright colors she wore.

She
finally chimed in again mockingly, “And Stella, how is it going there? Oh, it’s
going great Stephen. Let me tell you! I’ve met some totally nine people here,”
she said before being interrupted.

“What’s
a nine person?”

Stella
sighed dramatically, “You know nice. It’s what they say here at the University,
well the camp. Anyway, people from every region in the world. I’m the only one
here that’s ever been to Antarctica and the only person any of them know who
was born in Antarctica. Of course, they wonder how that happened and I was
happy to share the story of our crazy, persistent, stubborn parents. Oh, and
there are all kinds of other people like me here Stephen.

“I’m
happy for you Stella,” he said in the second between her thoughts.

“Sometimes
I forget the world isn’t just scientists, engineers, and techies living with
you, Mom, and Dad. Then add in Mave and Rupert and I’m surrounded. It’s so
refreshing, and, oh, what was that? What was that you just said?” Stella paused
and looked as if she were straining to hear something spoken at barely a
whisper, her head cocked to one side.

“I
didn’t say anything.” Stephen said confused.

“What
was it you just said in your head? What is it that you are worried about? It
wasn’t that there aren’t enough scientists, but that was close, wasn’t it?”

“I
don’t know what you’re talking about,” Stephen insisted, his eye twitching a
bit, as it did when he was nervous or lying. 

“Stephen,
I know you and you know I know you like no one else knows you. What’s going
on?” Stephen put his head down. He couldn’t let her see the worry on his face. She
wouldn’t be home for a few more days and he couldn’t have her worried too.

He
looked at the red brick wall behind her. She was outside, enjoying the warmth. Her
hair was around her head like a halo with the sun accenting her curls. The
scarf didn’t even try to contain the hair, only accent it. He wasn’t sure he
wanted to talk about it with her out there. He didn’t know who else might be
around, listening and he understood that no one else could know, for now.

“It’s
nothing serious. I’ll tell you when you get back.” She didn’t know how she put
up with him for nearly sixteen years. He was infuriating at times. She shook
her head and bit her lip.

“Stephen,
you are frustrating the hell out of me…but I love you anyway. Can you tell mom
that I need forty more lubles, please? I’m running low and I need my snacks and
I want to get something from the gift shop. And remember, I want you to meet me
at the hangar. It’d be nice if mom and dad or mom or dad also came but if they
can’t you better be there. Of course, I know you will.” As she rubbed her sore
forehead, she remembered the last thing she wanted to tell Stephen.

“And
one more thing, stop banging your head against the wall. I’ve been waking up
with headaches for the past two days. I know something is wrong because, as you
know, I feel you! Okay, I gotta run. My break’s almost over. Love you bro!”

And
then, Stella was gone again, vanished into the thin of the air, just like that.
He stared at the wall for a few more moments before sitting on his bed. He felt
almost lost without her and he knew he was overreacting but there was literally
no one else to talk to. The ARC staff were the only ones for miles on that
desolate continent.

However,
everyone else was constantly working as if their lives depended on it. Actually,
all five of them were working like their lives depended on it. Sighing, he
realized it was getting late and he needed to get to work too.

Stephen
walked out of his room and pulled the door shut before heading down the hall in
their family unit, past the pale yellow walls. He passed the main living area
where there was rarely any real living done. The furniture rarely felt the
warmth of a body and it wouldn’t on that day either as he passed it, headed to
the science center.

The
science center was his favorite place on the ARC. It included a general
workroom, lab, small room with control panels, and the research, observation,
and control room, which held the conference table. Zura had nicknamed it her
ROC room when Johan had designed it. If she weren’t anywhere else, she’d be in
there, working with her back to the door and her face towards the ocean.

Their
house wasn’t really a house. It was just one part of a large well-resourced
science and research complex funded by grants from the World Consensus and
private money from UniCorps. With that arrangement, there was always a delicate
balance meeting everyone’s needs while doing what was necessary scientifically.

The
ARC was perched dangerously close to the icy waters with tunnels that led
beneath the ice to the underwater lab and research center. Mave was at her
crescent shaped glass desk sipping on an extra tall cup of coffee with real
cream and turbinado sugar while underlining numbers on various reports.

When
she’d agreed to come to the ARC she asked for the desk as the one thing she
wanted for herself. She’d accepted nearly everything else that was provided
standard, though she sometimes wished she’d asked for more. All those years
ago, she hadn’t considered just how much time she’d wind up spending there.

When
the twins were around nine, the glass had to be replaced after an incident of
them running into the lab. Stella had rolled one of the heavier chairs and
slammed it into the desk causing it to crack across the top. 

The
crack had started small, but over time had grown to where Mave couldn’t put
pressure on it or even focus with it always staring back at her. The
replacement took them nearly two months and during the wait they laid a piece
of metal sheeting over the desk, which was more of an abomination to her senses
than the broken glass.

Stephen
stopped at the door. “Good morning, Aunt M.” He never came into the work room
if someone was there without some kind of announcement or greeting, as if in
need of permission.

Mave
turned around, saw Stephen, and smiled her big smile. “Well, good morning to my
favorite boy in the world. Come on in.”