Tier Trilogy: Books 1-3

by Cindy Gunderson

  “I—”

  “That’s a trick question,” she laughs. “It would be against protocol if he did.”

  I sigh in relief, thankful not to have to come up with a false excuse for my lack of information.

  “Though I don’t have the same level of clearance, you should be able to access any non-restricted trial information with my login on that dock,” she says, pausing, her eyebrows suddenly drawing together. “Why didn’t Nick just ask me to securely transfer the information via superwire?”

  I laugh. “He probably just wanted me to feel useful.”

  A smile crosses her lips and she rolls her eyes. “Sounds like him.”

  After typing in her credentials, she leaves me to it. I am overwhelmed with the sheer expanse of information before my eyes as the dock boots up to the main screen. Does he not know how to organize information? There is hardly any blank space on the display, and seemingly no pattern to the placement of the files. Then, something catches my eye. A small image of a columbine with a ‘K’ next to it sits near the bottom of the screen, standing out from the bland labels surrounding it. I press on it and find a grid of images, all labeled by date. I breathe a sigh of relief.

  Minimizing the display below the edge of the standing desk, I open the one closest to my estimate of when Eric and I were separated. Next to it, I pull up the one labeled one week later. The difference is striking. Though I’m no expert in interpreting brain scans, I can see large areas—specifically in the amygdala and hippocampus—where neural activity is significantly altered between the two. Checking the other images, I don’t find any that match the circumstances as well as these two. Then, I see my most recent scan. The one taken right after my initial treatment. Opening it, I see yet another transformation. The cluttered areas from the previous scan are softened, almost smoothed out. I transfer the images to the traveler, slipping it into my pocket. Studying these images should allow me to recognize patterns in my final scan. To know whether all has been restored, or to recognize other areas that have been erased without my knowledge.

  “Are you finding everything okay?” Tamara asks, sending a jolt through my spine.

  “Yep,” I answer. “His display is a mess, but I finally found what he needed.”

  Tamara snorts. “At least I’m not the only one who struggles.”

  Logging out, I shut down the dock and retreat for a second time back into the dimly lit hall. My shoulders finally relax and, though I want to collapse, I force myself to make it to the car.

  73 Nick

  The sound of a car door closing outside the house later that evening sends adrenaline shooting through my veins. Kate’s home, and I know she will have questions. I didn’t intend to miss her tonight, but when the ball was rolling, I certainly didn’t try to stop it. Though I want to keep her in the dark, there is also a small part of me that hopes to get caught.

  When she still hasn’t entered the house a few minutes later, I stand and walk toward the window. A knock on the door startles me and, without pausing, I close my fingers around the knob and swing it wide.

  “Shari?” I say, trying to process a reason for her to be standing on my step.

  “Hey Nick, is Kate home yet?” she asks briskly.

  “Honestly, I thought you were Kate. She should be home any minute,” I say, glancing behind her at the slowly setting sun.

  “Kids are all in bed?”

  I nod, inviting her in. “What can I help you with? Or did Kate set something up that I’m not aware of?”

  “No, nothing like that. Let’s wait until she arrives and I can explain. I don’t want to have to repeat myself.” She slips off her shoes and finds a seat, demurely crossing her ankles and placing her hands atop her tablet on her lap.

  “I thought you were headed home after our meeting,” I comment. “Did something happen after I left?”

  She shakes her head, giving a small smile, reminding me to be patient. She is apparently serious about not talking to me about it before Kate is present. I try changing the subject.

  “So, what travel destinations are on your list for the next year?” I ask, running a few inches of water into the sink to wash the dinner dishes.

  “I have a trip planned to the southern territories in a few months, but other options are up in the air until we find out whether we will officially be expanding into South American territories or not.”

  I nod. This had taken up much of our last Committee meeting. “Do you think it’s a good idea?”

  “I don’t know,” she sighs. “Logistically it makes things so much more complicated. But, I guess if they are able to start small and become self-sustaining, it could be a great opportunity to expand.”

  “I’m not convinced we are at the point that we need to focus on expansion. But what do I know. I’ve only attended a few meetings.”

  “Is that why you never say anything?” Shari teases.

  “I will. When it’s right,” I say, smiling. As I wash the last bowl, the front door opens and Kate walks in. Her face is pale, and at first she doesn’t respond to seeing Shari in the living room. She just stares.

  “Kate?” I ask, jolting her from her frozen state.

  “Hey, sorry, I wasn’t expecting company,” she responds stiffly.

  “Shari wanted to wait until you got here to discuss something with us. Do you need anything to eat?”

  She shakes her head, her hand reaching into her right pocket. “No, I don’t feel well at the moment.”

  I nod, and we both move to the sofa.

  “As you know,” Shari begins, “Nick has been doing some incredible work with his reversal research. I think you have witnessed the effects at this point, right Kate?”

  Kate nods, glancing down at the floor, then lifting her head again with a smile.

  “We are all excited to hear more about the process and the Director has actually called for a special meeting in two weeks so that Nick can present his findings to the region,”

  Kate inhales sharply, and Shari pauses. “Are you ok?” she asks.

  “Sorry, that just took me by surprise. I had no idea your results were going to be published so widely,” she explains.

  “Nick, have you not told her how groundbreaking this research is?” Shari asks, seemingly incredulous.

  “I have been so busy with the trials, and Kate has been undergoing procedures herself—I guess we haven’t really had a chance to sit down and discuss ramifications,” I hedge.

  “Kate, what has your experience been?” Shari asks.

  74 Kate

  My hands go numb, my right hand still pressing the traveler into my thigh, and my throat is thick. Keeping my face even, my mind races wildly, attempting to sort through possible, appropriate responses. It’s difficult to focus amidst the seething rage that pounds against my skull at seeing Shari again. As my memories have been restored, any minor hesitancy I felt in our relationship has given way to full anger and betrayal. How could she do this to me? How could she split up my family and strip me of my most meaningful relationships?

  I close my eyes and breathe, reminding myself that she seemed to legitimately think that this was best. I had convinced myself of the same thing at one point, so how can I blame her? Knowing now the position she holds—along with the prior secrecy—makes that reasoning a little difficult to swallow. Because of the discrepancies in the story she has chosen to share with me, everything in my previous life with Shari is questionable. I don’t know what to believe.

  “After my first treatment, I felt a noticeable difference,” I say calmly. “It was like a weight I had been carrying was suddenly lifted.”

  Shari nods, giving me a measured look. “How many treatments have you had?” she asks.

  “Only three,” Nick interjects. “Though the last one was quite intense and she is still in recovery.”

  Why is he lying? I have had upwards of fifteen procedures at this point. And why haven’t boosters been administered to other patients? Or was Tamara ly
ing? I still know nothing about his experience after that day with the balloons. What happened to him? Does he remember everything that happened to me, or was he simply trying to treat the echoes and somehow it backfired? Does Nick know that my memories are back? He can’t possibly. And I can’t possibly give any indication that something is off. My mind is overwhelmed with questions and anxiety surrounding the lack of information, nearly incapacitating me mentally. Somehow, as my head begins to pound, a realization clicks. Despite the fact that I know next to nothing, I now have another piece to work with: the Committee doesn’t know about these extra treatments. And Nick doesn’t want them to.

  “Well I will just cut right to the chase,” she says, leaning back in her chair, seemingly relaxed, when her expression is anything but. “The Director doesn’t feel comfortable going into this meeting with zero tangible data, so I am here to collect a handful of patients’ before and after scans for review. Since Kate has specifically had such fantastic results, we would love to include her in the first batch.”

  My blood runs cold. I need more time. I thought I would have days, at least, to figure out a plan for altering my scan files. Surely, I could find an excuse to see my final scan. Plead curiosity after this conversation and somehow distract Nick while he is logged in.

  “I would be happy to send them to you when I am back at the lab in the morning,” he says. “As you know, those files aren’t publicly held; they are only accessible from my dock there.”

  “The timeline is actually a lot less flexible,” Shari explains. “We need them tonight. I’m sorry to cause inconvenience, but I would love for us to head down there now. I have a secured travel dock available for transferring the information, for privacy and informational safety.”

  I force myself to relax my fingers, the tension in my arms becoming unbearable.

  “We actually haven’t completed a final scan for Kate yet,” Nick admits. “I was waiting for complete recovery before compiling that information. I do have final scans for quite a few other patients—”

  “But none with such intense symptoms.” Shari cuts him off.

  “True.”

  “The Director isn’t going to budge on this,” she says apologetically. “We will need to do the scan tonight, as well.”

  “Couldn’t we postpone the meeting? Nick could give his report a few weeks later?” I propose and Shari laughs lightly.

  “If only it were that easy,” she sighs. “Do you want to come in my car or drive separately?”

  They are going to see it. Tonight, Nick and Shari are going to see that my memories have been restored, if not in their entirety, at least to an unacceptable extent. Not only will it ruin Nick’s ability to present his research, but—before I can finish my thought, nausea threatens to envelop me. I grit my teeth and breathe down the panic. I can’t lose those memories. Especially now that I know they can be erased forever. I can’t forget them. Not now. Not ever again.

  “Let’s go together,” I say sweetly, steeling myself. “No sense wasting resources when we don’t have to.”

  Nick looks at me in surprise, then nods his agreement.

  “I do need to use the washroom first, if that’s alright,” I say, not waiting for Shari’s response.

  75 Kate

  A fire burns in me as we enter the lab. Tamara is, thankfully, long gone. I wouldn’t want to have to explain a third appearance here in one night. I have absolutely zero idea as to how I am going to alter the files, but whether it’s adrenaline or a sheer mental break, nothing but confidence exists in me. I will figure it out, because I have to. It’s as simple as that.

  Nick logs into his dock and turns on the equipment. Peeking over his shoulder, I ask to see my initial scans. My voice seems to startle him and I notice that he is deleting images within my folder.

  “What are those?” I ask innocently.

  “I accidentally saved images from a few other patients in your file,” he says. “I already copied them to their correct locations, but forgot to delete them here.” I nod, watching until there are only two images left. Again, the dishonesty. I saw those images and they were mine. What is he hiding? My eye catches movement and I glance down. Something about his finger motions seemed slightly different on that one. Looking back at the display, only one image is visible.

  Nick brings up my initial scan, and the colors appear in front of us.

  “It’s beautiful,” I say.

  Shari crosses to our side of the room and takes it in. “It’s...chaotic,” she sighs, almost in awe.

  Nick nods. “Based on her reports, I assume this next image will be much more streamlined. But you can see why we needed multiple sessions to repair this,” he jokes.

  “Standing right here,” I tease, trying to keep the mood light. Where did my second scan disappear to? I pat the traveler in my pocket, thankful that I accessed the images when I did.

  76 Eric

  Moving down the row next to Kip, I slice the cabbage heads off one by one. As I hit my rhythm, I push myself to move slightly faster to get ahead of him. It’s not a competition, but I get some strange satisfaction from finishing the row first. Our entire crew is out today harvesting. We’ve been at it all week, and my whole body is feeling it.

  “I hope they appreciate this,” Kip mumbles under his breath.

  “Huh?” I ask, not hearing him fully.

  “I hope they appreciate this,” he repeats gruffly, bending and slicing.

  “They?”

  “Yes they. People in Tier 1 who never have to lift a finger, but benefit from our sweat and tears. They,” he sneers.

  “Do you seriously believe that, Kip?” I ask, standing in my row for a quick stretch, then bending again, not wanting to get behind.

  “Don’t you?”

  “Tier 1 individuals don’t just sit around doing nothing. They have extreme responsibility and work hard.”

  “How do you know?” he asks, smirking.

  “I mean—everyone knows that. It’s how society works.”

  “So you know because that’s what Berg told you?” he quips, both of us now facing each other.

  I nod. “How would we have so much innovation, such equality in resources if it wasn’t true?” I ask honestly.

  Kip laughs out loud, bending as if needing to prevent a total collapse into hilarity. “Seriously, Eric? How do you know the resources are equal? How do you know that innovation doesn’t come from Tier 2, from all of us working day in and day out to fulfill our responsibilities?”

  I stare blankly, a compelling answer escaping me.

  “You need to wake up, man. Everyone here works to support an upper-class that doesn’t give anything back to us, as far as I’m concerned,” he says, bending again in his row. Quietly he adds, “If you want to learn more, you can meet at Taylor’s tomorrow night.”

  I stand in stunned silence, sweat dripping along my temples. Kip is at least four plants ahead of me, but I can’t seem to make myself move. Is this really how my peers think? Have I missed a cultural shift in my isolation? Slowly, I bend and continue on, filling my bag with ripe heads. Maybe it’s just Kip; he’s always been a little surly. My mind continues to chew on this information as I lag behind, finishing my row.

  Standing outside of Taylor’s home, I hesitate, having absolutely zero desire to hear more of the negativity I absorbed in the field. At the same time, I have a responsibility to be aware in my community. And possibly more importantly in this instance, to share my opinions and conclusions. Moseying up the path, the door opens before I can knock.

  “You came,” Kip announces, impressed.

  “I did,” I say, smiling slowly. “I’m mostly here to observe. Hopefully that’s okay.”

  He ushers me into the living room, and I take a seat on an open bench. Two other men filter in while I wait, then Taylor stands and calls our unofficial meeting to order. His hair is still wet, slightly curling behind his ears, and he is dressed in a clean shirt and slacks. There are only ten of us
, but the energy in the room is palpable. I attempt to conceal my discomfort by relaxing my hands onto the bench next to me.

  “Thanks for coming everyone,” Taylor greets us, taking his place at the front of the room. “For you newcomers, we have been getting together for a few months to discuss community and governance policies that we feel are important and need to be adjusted. I assume, by your presence, that you also have concerns. While meeting together isn’t necessarily frowned upon by Berg, some of our topics might be, so we ask that you keep this discussion to yourselves. We want this to be a safe space for self-expression,” he explains.

  That’s fair. While I likely won’t agree with much of what’s said, I am all for freedom of speech and opinion.

  “Kip, why don’t you fill the new guys in,” he says, moving to the side and perching on a stool next to the doorframe.

  “Sure, no problem,” he replies, standing and pulling his sagging belt up to his waist. “I think we can all agree that after the Crisis, something had to be done. Whether it was right or wrong isn’t up for discussion. It happened, people did the best they could, and even if they didn’t, we can’t really do anything about it anyway.” A few people chuckle lightly. “What we can do something about is society right now. Things have changed a lot since then. Heck, even in my lifetime I’ve seen dramatic changes. But this isn’t about me. Let me show you some stats.”

  Kip pulls out a display and opens a window in front of us. A chart appears, showing resource levels for Tier 2.

  “Look at this pretty curve,” he drawls, bringing more chuckles from our small group. “Our physical resource levels have been exponentially increasing for years. We are literally maxed out, and yet somehow, we still have to use credits for extra food or entertainment.” He swipes to another image. “This shows our population. I have my doubts that this is current, but it has been steadily decreasing. This is likely the reason for our increased resource levels per capita, only solidifying our opinion that it is time for resources to be freely accessed.” Closing the display, he takes a seat and motions for Taylor to continue.