The Loctorian Chronicles Intercept

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The Loctorian Chronicles Intercept Page 5

by Andi Feron


  She began to speak, “I am Kayla Monroe. You have all passed through weeks of intense physical training. You have survived the final war game, and your victory will now be rewarded with the capsulization process!” Her claims were met with hollers of excitement from the crowd.

  She continued, “Now feast. You will need your strength for the process, then you will be given quarters. In these quarters you will rest for the next three days. It is important you do so, as the changes for some of you will be intense. In four days, your abilities will be tested, and you will be scored. Congratulations, you are soldiers now!”

  Whistling and cheering roared across the room. The energy dwindled, and we filed to get our breakfast. Little talking took place as we consumed as much as we could contain. At six, the intercom blared instructions for us to make our way to capsulization. I marched with my assigned unit and we left the training area for the first time in twelve weeks. We passed by sickbay. I caught a glimpse of red hair and almost jumped out of line. Seraphine was talking to the doctor.

  Gabriel and Allie were nowhere in sight, but I was relieved to see at least one more of us still alive. She looked well, and I let the temptation to leave the line subside. I wouldn’t make it far, and we were going to get three days’ rest in our quarters. I could use that time to escape. Hopefully whatever this capsulization process was wouldn’t impede that.

  We entered a large room where the ceiling rose a few hundred feet in the air. Some type of pipe system ran along the ceiling and covered all of the walls. There were large, clear capsules, and they reminded me of the capsules you use at the bank drive up. The capsules were around seven feet tall, and three black steps led to the entrance. The doors slid in, and the first soldiers entered a chamber.

  There were ten capsules, and they separated us into lines. I was fifth in my row. The first soldiers came out, all looking the same. Each process took about fifteen minutes, and the tube filled with an orange fog that the soldier would disappear into until the process was finished.

  My turn arrived. I was careful not to look too cautious. This was a euphoric event to everyone around me, and I needed to blend in. I stepped into the chamber. Blue lights blinked around me, and the orange fog rose from the mirrored floor.

  A voice in the capsule speaker said, “Trammel, your heart rate is a little high. I know this is an exciting day but try and relax. Things take better if you are as calm as possible. Relax. Breathe. Five more minutes, Mr. Trammel. You’re doing great!”

  The capsule seemed to be closing in on me. The fog prevented me from seeing the edges, and I felt panicked. My mind felt numb and heavy, and I didn’t know what was normal.

  “Heart rate is a little fast. Almost done. Breathe in and out,” the voice continued to try and calm me.

  I began to focus on Allie and how I needed to find her. I avoided thinking about anything bad that could have happened to her. Her face relaxed me, so I focused on that. I remembered us as kids in her tree house; anytime we were scared or sad we would meet each other there. It was our sanctuary.

  “Good job, Trammel. We are done. Congratulations!” the voice praised my accomplishment of surviving fifteen minutes in an orange gas chamber.

  The orange fog escaped through an exhaust at the top of the capsule, and the door opened. I tried not to exit too quickly and wasn’t sure that my body would let me run at this point. I grabbed my new set of uniforms and walked to my indicated quarters.

  The quarters looked identical to the ones that Gabriel and I had first changed in at the beginning of this entire fiasco. Everything in the place was grey, brown, or black. The only thing exciting to look at in the room was the fern in a large blue pot located by the front door. I glanced at the attached card. My kidnappers were welcoming me to the prison I now lived in. A console on the wall had a sign above it that stated I should start there first.

  I turned it on and Mrs. Monroe—the woman from the pep talk this morning—appeared. She was the voice in the capsule, too, and I briefly wondered if she was Dr. Monroe’s wife. I was still a little burned at him. He had promised answers but instead I was left with more questions. I felt cemented to the ground, but I stood there watching the video rather than becoming a jumbled heap on the floor.

  “Welcome, soldier, to a new era in your life. You now must rest as often as possible for the next three days. Your dormant gene will slowly activate, and you may experience strange and unusual sights. Do not be alarmed, as these are your new ability activating. There are control panels on the side of each room. If you experience anything unsettling, you can use the control panel to contact a medic or counselor. They are on call at any hour. Feel free to utilize this option as much as needed. We are here to help you with this transition.”

  The video ended and I decided that going to bed was the best option. My head spun, and my feet felt like lead. I stumbled into the bedroom and collapsed on the bed, not even making it under the covers before falling asleep.

  Chapter Six

  Althea-October 24, 2012

  I woke up the next morning in the holding cell, disappointed. I had been hoping that yesterday was a weird dream, and I would wake up back on campus. Instead, the cold white cell walls were all that greeted me. Yesterday I had a boyfriend, a brother who worked an ordinary job, and I was in college. Today I was in prison without reason or understanding.

  The guards left me breakfast through a small slot that opened in the door. Eggs, plain bread, some sort of green substance, and water. Not even close to the best breakfast, but I was starving and did my best to choke it all down. I accomplished the unpleasant task in its entirety except for the green mixture. The color and texture made my stomach roll.

  As confused as I was by my brother’s actions, I needed to trust Talon to get me out of this because he never failed me. He took care of me and protected me for as far back as I could remember. I paced back and forth. The silence was starting to become a vortex that was slowly swallowing my sanity. Solitude had never been a welcoming thing for me. If John was in the same position as me, he was probably being revitalized by the stillness. Hours and minutes were undefinable.

  I had no indication other than it must have been a few hours since breakfast when the lunch tray was delivered. Grilled cheese, a glass of water, and some broccoli. I passed on the broccoli but devoured the grilled cheese. As the butter met the melted cheese, it occurred to me that Talon had made this. There was something different about the way he always made them. I never learned his secret, but I’d never tasted any like it since. I saw my lunch as his way of letting me know that he was taking care of things. I would trust Talon and wait.

  I recited every poem I ever learned in school and rehearsed my periodic table. This would prove useful when I made it to my next chemistry exam. Surely Talon wouldn’t allow this to go too far into my semester.

  I thought about Lucius and I began to seethe. He must have been using me from the start. Those kisses were magical, though, but I was glad I didn’t sleep with him. Losing my virginity to a user jerk would have made all of this so much worse.

  I heard talking in the hall. It was muffled significantly, but I stood up and peeked out. It was Talon, talking to one of the guards. He was too far away for me to read his lips, but his rapid body movements made me think he was angry. The guard walked to my enclosure. Talon followed close behind him as the glass moved upward, freeing me from confinement. I bolted for Talon.

  He pulled me into a hug. “You alright? Did they hurt you?”

  “I’m fine. Can we go home now? I need to find John, Seraphine, and Gabriel and get back to campus. I have an anthropology exam tomorrow.”

  “It’s complicated, Allie. We can’t go home yet. I have a lot to explain. And I will in time but for now let’s get you somewhere more comfortable.”

  I was so relieved to see Talon that I had missed that he was wearing a military uniform. “Since when did you join the army?”

  “I’m not in the army. We’ll talk later.�
�� Talon led me down the hall into an elevator. We went up four floors to a silver hallway.

  “Where are the others?”

  “I was trying to locate you. The important thing is I have you. You’re staying in my quarters. I have three rooms, so plenty of space for you.”

  “You have to find the others!”

  “I will. I promise.” He opened the second door.

  These quarters were nicer and held more space. The walls were painted royal blue, which I knew was Talon’s favorite color. A picture of me as a little girl sat next to his recliner. Another photo of our family before the car crash hung to the entryway. A black and white cat greeted us at the door.

  “You have a cat?” I reached down to pet him.

  “Yeah, his name is Shakespeare.”

  “You don’t like cats.”

  “I like that one.”

  Talon was full of more surprises with each passing second. He showed me the room I would be staying in. A queen size bed with a pink flowered comforter lay in the middle of the room. A turquoise French dresser was in front of the bed, and several paintings lined the walls. The walls were a deep purple. By the color scheme and furnishings, I began to wonder if Talon had been expecting me.

  “There are some clothes for you in the dresser and a towel in the bathroom. Take a bath or shower if you want, then I’ll have dinner ready.”

  A shower sounded like heaven. I took an extra-long time, and the water continued to stay inviting the entire length of my shower. I climbed into some cotton pajamas I found in the top drawer of the dresser.

  I savored the aroma of roast beef and potatoes, which brought the security of home. I sat across from Talon around his small oak table, and he handed me one dish after the other. His roast beef melted in my mouth. The gravy added a deeper flavor that accented the potatoes. I relished each bite my ravenous stomach could contain.

  When I finished my plate, I looked up at Talon. “Now, are you going to explain?”

  Talon cleared the plates and motioned me to his living room. A red leather couch rounded the corner on the opposite wall of a mounted television. He sat down in his red leather recliner and directed me to sit on the couch.

  “When I was fourteen, I was recruited into a program for young teens. I was sent for an interview with a man named Mr. Fausto. He said he had the means to give me a good paying job. We needed the money, so I agreed to the evaluation.” He paused.

  I listened intently, wondering how Talon being involved in any of this since he was fourteen made any sense. He looked at me with his light blue eyes. He ran his fingers through his brown hair, pushing it back from his forehead. He looked away again, seemingly unsure if he should say more.

  He continued, “The stuff from here on out may be hard for you to believe. I’m about to change everything you thought about Earth and the universe.”

  “What are you, a space alien fighter?” I laughed, but Talon didn’t. “No way!” I shook my head.

  Still not finding my words amusing, Talon went on, “Now it gets what you will think of as weird, paranormal of sorts. The program has these capsules which activates a dormant gene that 89.6% of humans have. This gene activates a part of the brain that is otherwise left untapped. Unlike many believe, humans use pretty much every area of their brain, but there is an inner portion discovered by Loctorians that holds things humans often ignore like intuition. They found it was mostly shut off.

  “They used advanced gene editing to create a gene to turn it fully on and strengthen it. This gene does different things, and it is not understood how the gene chooses which ability, as no variations of the gene have been documented. There are seven categories a person has the potential to fall into. The gene seems to be only able to unlock one ability, and it is the ability you keep the rest of your life. The seven categories are called healers, trackers, projectors, empaths, manipulators, chameleons, and the heightened.”

  “Abilities? You mean like superpowers?” I chuckled.

  He continued, “The names are self-explanatory. Healers can repair biological matter, including themselves. Trackers can find anyone and anything, but it goes beyond that. Tracking is a separate sense that locates whatever is desired as easily and quickly as opening your eyes and seeing. Projectors can project images to other locations and make others see things that aren’t really there.

  “Empaths can sense emotions and read thoughts. They can also make someone see things, but unlike projectors, it is by bringing people into their own minds. In other words, projectors use their mind to project images out and empaths use their enemy’s mind to bring images forward. Empaths can also tell people their thoughts. Manipulators can make people do things just by speaking it. Chameleons can make themselves and other things invisible. Then lastly, the heightened. Every sense they have is much more advanced. They can see, hear, taste, feel, and smell better than any other living thing.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “You really believe all of this?”

  “It’s the truth, but I know all of this is hard to believe. I tried so hard to keep you out of this. I put security measures in place, and I made a deal with an admiral high up so that you wouldn’t be recruited. He said he would help me keep you from being found. It’s normal to recruit siblings of officers who display higher level abilities. There are also seven tiers within each ability, one being low level and seven being off the charts high function of the ability. Tiers are highly genetic, which is why tier levels are similar in most families.”

  I was still pondering if I should be worried Talon needed a psych eval but decided to play into what he was saying. “I assume you have had this gene activated. What are you? What’s your level?”

  “I am a tier seven tracker. That’s why keeping you hidden was so important. Full siblings usually have different abilities but are within one to two tiers of each other. Even if you score level five, you are above eighty-five percent of those with abilities, and that makes you highly valuable.”

  “Valuable for what?”

  “War.”

  “The war on terrorism? The Middle East?”

  Talon shook his head. “If only. Khalbytians. The war against Khalbytians.”

  “Never heard of that country.”

  Talon laughed slightly, relaxing some of the tension on his face. His face stiffened again. “The next part is going to be even harder for you to believe. We aren’t on Earth. The Khalbytians are an evil alien race. They have created a virus that is slowly wiping out the alien race we are fighting with. The Loctorians. They have been damaged by the virus on an RNA level.”

  Talon went on to explain more about how the Loctorians were using humans to fight against Khalbytians. The Loctorians possessed abilities naturally, but as the virus spread, each passing generation lost more ability function. They began to see this process at a very early stage. The biggest weapon they had to fight the Khalbytians was slowly dissolving with each passing generation. They decided to set out to find a race that would be compatible to carry on the genetic capabilities but who were not susceptible to the virus.

  They used a type of gene editing and distributed it in first world countries at medical facilities. The Loctorians recruited humans to their cause to help them distribute the therapy. It began to alter the human population. These changes started in 1938 and continued until most of the population had unknowingly taken the therapy.

  Once the first generation was given the gene therapy, it was then passed onto future generations. There was an issue with synthetic gene alterations. The gene was present but dormant. The Loctorians put a great deal of effort into research and testing of activating dormant genes. When a process was discovered, they began recruiting humans to fight the war with the hopes that it would end the virus before it wiped out their entire race. I felt overwhelmed at the end of Talon’s explanation.

  “So you’re saying human DNA has been altered for decades to fulfill alien agenda,” I said.

  “Basically, yes.”

 
“Why do you fight? They have forcibly altered humanity and enslaved them. Is that it? Are you a slave?”

  “No, I’m here by choice. We all are. We choose to fight the evil. The Loctorians are the last force ready to stop the Khalbytians. Eventually, the Khalbytians will wipe out the Loctorians and in doing that they will turn their attention to Earth. In reality, I fight for humanity. But even if that wasn’t true, it’s the right thing to do. The virus is horrific to watch. It slowly eats away at its victims.

  “The skin is bleached, and it eventually dries the skin like dirt in the hot summer of a desert. Then it resembles leprosy as parts begin to fall off and crumble to dust. The process is slow and painful. The Khalbytians added a genetic component, so now all Loctorians are born with the virus. No amount of their own expertise in genetics has changed this, each generation is dying younger. Fighting is a necessity.”

  “If the fight is so important, why keep me out of this?”

  “Why would I want my baby sister to fight this violent, dangerous war?”

  “I’m not a baby anymore. I should be able to help in some way.”

  “You’re going back to college, and you’re going to go back to your normal life. I’ve fought too long to keep you out of this. You need to be on Earth, far from any talk of violent battles.”

  “How can I go back to a normal life after finding out my brother is fighting galactic battles?”

  Part of me was amused at the thought of this being a reality. If this was true, there was so much at stake, and it figured that Talon would think he could still make choices for me. This could all be argued about later when I confirmed my brother hadn’t lost his mind or was part of a delusional drug cult.

  “Althea, you’re not getting involved! That’s final.”

  “We can argue later. Right now, I need to find my friends and get them home. This seems like a family issue, and we should stop bringing them into it all.”

 

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