The Xactilias Project

by RJ Lawrence

  "Following lunch, you'll each return to your respective rooms and change your clothing. I'll arrive to collect you in one hour."

  With that, he turned and walked away.

  Claire looked at Karen, whose pale skin had lost whatever blood was in it.

  "What's the matter?"

  Karen forced a smile and shook her head.

  "Nothing. We should finish eating."

  But they ate no more, and soon both found themselves alone in their rooms, thumbing through their closets in search of the right thing to wear for such an uncertain occasion.

  Once she'd showered and dressed, Claire sat on her bed with a cup of water in her hand. She stared into it, her mind playing out all the potential scenarios to come. But in this place, there were no hints and no tells, everything obscured by humdrum routines, be they harmless ploys or calculated deceptions, confounding just the same.

  A knock at the door.

  "Ms. Foley."

  She stood.

  Another knock.

  "Ms. Foley, it's time."

  She answered the door to reveal an armed soldier.

  "This way, please."

  She shut the door and followed him down the tiled hallway, bright white motion-sensing lights flicking on ahead of them and dying quietly behind. They worked their way through a befuddling course of hallways and random doors until her feet began to ache. They entered empty rooms with doors that led to other rooms. They walked down hallways that led to other hallways and more hallways that led to still more rooms.

  At last, they turned a corner and arrived at one last hallway, the walls white and sterile and indistinguishable from all the others in their wake. The soldier stopped and looked about uneasily. The walls were filled with plain white doors, spaced four feet apart, and he seemed not to know which one to open.

  He looked at Claire, who immediately pointed her face away. Sweat leaked from the gills of his neck, and his throat bobbed as he attempted to swallow the void in his mouth. Finally, he pushed his hand into his pocket and retrieved a slip of paper. He looked at it for a quick instant and then pushed the crumpled thing back where it had come from.

  He swallowed again.

  "Here," he said, and he pointed to a door. "This one, here."

  She reached for the knob and gave it a fruitless twist. She turned and looked at the soldier, who retrieved the paper from his pocket and gave it a second look.

  "No, this one. This one here."

  She stepped forward and reached for the knob, but before she could grasp it, the door flung open and Demetri stepped outside.

  He glanced at Claire and then approached the soldier. He held out his hand, his face stony, jaw undulating beneath his dark skin. The soldier swallowed hard and then retrieved the paper from his pocket. He placed it in Demetri's hand.

  "You can go inside now, Ms. Foley," he said without taking his eyes from the soldier's face.

  Without speaking, she entered the room alone, the door nearly slamming against her as Demetri forced it closed.

  "Hello," said Dominic Betancur. "Please, join us."

  He sat on the far side of a wide glass table, Karen seated opposite him, a believable smile on her face. Claire approached and sat next to her.

  "I'm very grateful you were able to meet with us today. I understand you're quite busy with your work, and I'm very sorry to have interrupted you."

  Claire nodded.

  "It's not a problem."

  "Very good."

  He opened a file and removed several papers. He thumbed through them and pulled one out.

  "I'm extremely pleased with your progress," he said, as he looked the page over. "The two of you have performed well beyond expectations."

  "All of the credit should go to Claire," Karen said. "She's remarkable."

  Dominic set the paper down.

  "Yes," he said with a smile. "She certainly is. We were very fortunate to attain her services."

  The door opened and Demetri entered. He straightened his tie and approached the table. He took a seat next to Dominic, and as he did, Claire noticed a touch of blood on the knuckles of his right hand.

  Dominic traced her eyes to the hand. He leaned over to whisper something to Demetri, who immediately withdrew a handkerchief and wiped his hands clean.

  "Where are we?" Demetri asked as he wiped.

  "I was just complimenting these two on their fine work."

  Demetri nodded.

  "Yes, the two of you have been exceptionally productive."

  "Indeed," Dominic said. "I'm quite eager to see where you'll be taking things." He frowned. "Unfortunately, although the work is promising, we're having some unpleasant feedback from subject testing in the lower level."

  Claire furrowed her brows.

  "What specifically?"

  "Well, side effects, mainly, but we'll provide a thorough report with all the information you need, once you've returned."

  Claire and Karen exchanged looks.

  "Returned from where?"

  Dominic smiled.

  "Well, I'd like you to accompany me for an off-site project. I don't want to get into the specifics, but it's very important, and I need someone of your caliber alongside me."

  Claire frowned.

  "I'm honored, but we really do need to get back to our work, especially if there have been issues with testing."

  "That can wait," Demetri said. "Tomorrow, you'll accompany Mr. Betancur's team for this off-site project. Karen will review the report, so she can brief you on the specifics when you return."

  Dominic placed his hand on Demetri's arm.

  "I do appreciate your commitment to your work, Claire," he said. "But, this is pressing and I feel we just can't afford to approach it without you."

  Claire glanced at Karen, but she only stared blankly at the table.

  "Alright." She smiled. "I appreciate the kind words."

  "Good," Dominic said with a broad smile. "Very good."

  He stacked the papers and put them back in the folder.

  "I am very sorry to burden you with unexpected responsibilities. I'm also sorry you had to navigate such an intricate maze to get here today. But that's part of Demetri's security gambit." He gave the man a soft elbow and smiled. "You must both feel a little lost, but you're actually quite close to your work station, I can assure you."

  Claire glanced at Demetri.

  "I have an eidetic memory," she said. "I know exactly where we are."

  Dominic placed his hand over Demetri's arm and smiled.

  "Of course," he said. "How silly of me to forget."

  He gave Demetri a hard pat on the back.

  "Well, you two certainly deserve to celebrate your achievements." He stood, and the others followed suit. "I've actually arranged a little surprise. It's not much, but if you'll step outside, an escort will lead the way."

  He smiled and shook each woman's hand in turn. Then he and Demetri left the room, the latter glancing over his shoulder as he disappeared from sight.

  The two women exchanged looks, but before either could speak, another soldier entered the room.

  "Hello," he said, with a dead, robotic voice. "I'm here to escort you to the diversions room."

  They each offered polite smiles and then followed the man through yet another meandering route of same-looking doors and rooms and hallways, until they finally arrived at yet another same-looking door.

  "Please," the soldier said, with his bloodless voice.

  Karen twisted the knob and opened the door to reveal a warm, alluring room with dim lighting and comfortable-looking furniture. They exchanged looks and then turned to the soldier.

  "You're invited to celebrate your evening here," he said. "I'll wait outside the door for the duration."

  With that, he moved away and took a position against the wall, his rifle secure in his hands, eyes boring forward into nothing at all.

  They went inside and shut the door. They looked around and took the room's inventory: a s
helf jammed full of classic novels, three bottles of red wine on an antique wooden table, a dark brown leather couch, oak hardwood floors, a big, broad recliner and a deep, dark, supple green rug that spanned nearly half the room. In one far corner, a fireplace crackled and snapped, while a radio spilled a calm stream of classical music into the air. Karen approached the table. A wrapped gift basket sat upon it, and inside, she saw aged cheeses, cured meats, dried fruits and an assortment of nuts. And there were cigarettes, her brand of cigarettes, and everything looked new and fresh and completely unspoiled.

  Karen immediately tore the butterscotch-colored plastic wrapping from the basket and collected the pack. She ripped it open and withdrew a cigarette. She placed it between her lips and snatched up a booklet of matches. She plucked a match loose and prepared to stroke it, stopping to glance up at Claire.

  "Is this ok?" She asked, the cigarette dangling from her lips and bobbing with each syllable.

  "Yes, go ahead," Claire said, as she took up a bottle of wine. She twisted a corkscrew into the top and pulled it open, while Karen set fire to her cigarette and smoked from it hungrily.

  "Oh, my," she sighed, as she fell backward into one of the chairs. "I'm ashamed at how good this tastes."

  Claire filled two glasses and handed one over. They each took several swallows, the alcohol spreading warm and evenly over their bodies, calming their nerves. Claire stood up and crossed the room. She approached the fire and sat before it, her legs Indian fashioned, eyes looking deep within the flames. She drank and studied the long fiery tongues as they lashed upward, the life within them so hypnotic after all the computers and sterile tile.

  "I want to go home."

  Karen sat smoking, her eyes watching the fire.

  "Let's just be here for a while," she said. "Let's just be."

  And so they did just that, both of them drinking, eating, smoking and talking, as if they had somehow returned to the familiar existence they once knew. And for a while, the outside world fell away, the music filling its void and the growing voids within their lonely hearts. And for a few hours, they were happy. And then their minds and spirits drifted back to practical thinking, and the inevitable promise of the coming day.

  Chapter 13

  "What do you know about Demetri Mendoza?" Karen asked. "Has he talked to you?"

  Claire sipped her drink.

  "That's the one thing I'm sure I don't want to talk about."

  Karen gave a smirk.

  "Yes, he's a character, isn't he?"

  "He's a cruel bastard," Claire sniped.

  Karen looked over the thick frames of her glasses.

  "That and so much more."

  She placed her drink on the table and stood. She put a finger to her mouth and turned up the radio's volume. Then she pulled her chair around the table and sat next to Claire.

  "You don't have to talk, but you can listen. You can do that for me, even if you don't want to, right?"

  Claire held her glass with two hands.

  "If you wouldn't write it down on paper and sign it with your name, I wouldn't say it."

  "Fair enough, but this knowledge I'd give you for your own well-being."

  Claire looked away.

  "You'd tell me things that would get me killed."

  Karen took hold of her chin and pulled her face around.

  "I'd tell you things that would save your life."

  She removed her hand and reached over the table to collect her drink. She took a mighty swallow, while Claire considered the weight of her next choice.

  "Whatever you tell me, they'll know," she said. "Then they'll take us both into dark rooms, and who knows what else?"

  Karen set her drink down.

  "Oh, they'll do worse. They'll torture us, maybe rape us, and then they'll cut us apart and feed our bodies to the starving people in the level below us. And, if we're lucky, they'll do it in that order."

  Claire started to cry.

  "I just want to do my job and go home."

  Karen shook her head.

  "Pay attention," she said. "I want to tell you something that will make you understand what's happening to you and what you must do if you want to make it out of here."

  Claire nodded and Karen took her hand, the radio pouring forth a racket of trumpet clatter, as if to intentionally cheat the moment of its gravity. Karen waited for the violins to smother out the commotion, and then she began.

  "When I first came here, I worked exclusively with Krystoph. At the time he'd been working in this facility for six years and he showed it, believe me."

  "Six years?" Claire interrupted.

  Karen nodded.

  "Yes," she said. "I don't know what his original agreement said, but I'm certain it was adjusted based on his lack of progress. They kept delaying his release, if you will. Anyway, he knew he had to make a breakthrough to secure his freedom, and so that became his fixation. It was an obsession really, and it made him odd, but that's not really where I'm going with this."

  She refilled her drink and took a sip.

  "After about nine months as his assistant, I received an invitation to join a group that would accompany Demetri on some sort of project outside the complex. At the time, I felt Krystoph and I were nearing a breakthrough, and so I declined, partly for that reason and partly because of Demetri. I'd had plenty of run-ins with him over that first year, and I understood who he was better than most. Or at least I thought I did at the time.

  "Anyway, when he heard I'd declined the assignment, Demetri summoned me to his office and asked about my reservations. I told him I had none and was only thinking of the research. I told him it was a bad time for me to leave the project, and I didn't think Krystoph could spare me at the moment. He listened politely and accepted my decision. Then he shook my hand and I returned to the lab.

  "I finished out the day, had dinner in the cafeteria, returned to my room, took a shower and went to bed. But in the middle of the night, I woke up. I turned over and reached for the lamp, but a voice told me to be still. I sat up and pressed my back against the headboard. I peered through the darkness, and there he was, sitting in a chair in the corner of the room. I couldn't see his face, but I recognized the gravel in the voice when he spoke.

  "He leaned forward and told me, quite simply, that he was disappointed I'd foregone the opportunity to join in his project. He then stood and left the room. That was it. He opened the door and walked out.”

  She took one last drag of her cigarette and crushed it into the ashtray over and over until all the little embers went dead.

  "The next day, I asked a guard to escort me to Demetri's office, where I told him I'd reconsidered my decision. He accepted my answer without looking up, and I walked away. The guard took me back to my room, where I packed a bag of clothing and bathroom supplies. Then he escorted me to the elevator and up to the top level.

  "We stayed in the top level for a week, and let me tell you, that courtyard was like heaven after a year down here. I remember the first of the sun on my skin and the way it made my heart pick up." She smiled to herself. "It's funny how much you appreciate the consolation of little moments while in the midst of hardships.”

  She collected her pack of cigarettes and thumbed it open.

  "I still remember that first meal in the cafeteria, the texture of the bacon, the tart little pinch in the orange juice." She murmured the words almost to herself, her eyes darting off for a moment and then snapping back into place. "Thank God for life's little interruptions."

  She withdrew another cigarette and held it for a moment.

  "Anyway, after a week, they marched us out onto the grounds and put us in big military trucks alongside armed soldiers. We cleared the security gates and drove all day through all sorts of jungle land and I saw animals I'd never seen before, and some of them looked unreal to me, though I'm sure they seem quite ordinary to anyone familiar with such things.

  "That first night, they set up tents for us and other tents for the so
ldiers, and everyone gathered near a large bonfire that seemed the only defense against the forest even with the guns and the knives and the big strong men who would wield them. One of the men had a guitar and he played it freely and he sang songs in a language I did not know and his voice was beautiful, though he looked like the type of man that might rape you if given the chance.

  "The men had alcohol and soon became intoxicated and there was a great commotion and loud voices and fighting and those of us in the research group would have taken our chance to flee if not for the jungle which no sane person would enter especially in the thick of night.

  "A group of men had been arguing about the very nature of the jungle itself and of phantoms and other metaphysicalities that might exist within it. Soon things were getting out of hand and that's when Demetri stood up before them. Immediately, every eye fell upon him and I saw eyebrow after eyebrow raise. He lifted his hand and silence washed over the company, the firelight making him appear iconic at least in the eyes of those strange men. They listened while he mused about their arguments and then he sat with his back to the towering flames and he told them a story that I'll repeat to you as best I can remember.”

  She cleared her throat.

  "Long ago, a Spanish colonial army arrived on the shorelines of South America with the sole intent of seizing gold from the native settlements. Having raided the nearest villages, they grew frustrated by their petty scores and sought to push inward into the Amazonian jungle.

  "Through their conquests, the Spaniards learned of a remote city with such vast wealth, the people ate from gold dishes and drank from gold cups, and the settlement itself was said to be enclosed within golden walls that soared over the surrounding treetops. According to the natives, the city attained its wealth not by mining, but as the result of incredible abilities. For it was said that every man, woman and child wielded the power to turn any solid substance into gold with a few spoken words and a simple touch of the hand.

  "At first, the Spaniards regarded these stories as deceit aimed at distracting them from the region; however, as they moved from village to village, they found remarkable consistency between each tale. Finally, through torture, the Europeans exacted enough credible information to target the city's location and began drawing plans for an assault.