The Phoenix Project Series: Books 1-3: The Phoenix Project, The Reformation, and Revelation

by Pritchard, M. R.

  I shake my head no. “What happened to her?” I ask. He has never mentioned having a family.

  He looks to the ground. Smiling, remembering. “She was in an accident with my wife. I lost them both. She would be ten this year.”

  He walks into a large room that he uses as his office. I’ve never been here before. The room is immaculate with its grey cement floors, rough wooden walls. There’s simple wooden furniture, a white phone on the desk, it must be the one that rings when I don’t answer mine. There’s an old leather couch and a row of gun cabinets. He walks to the tallest cabinet, pulling a box from the top of it.

  It seems almost everyone I know here has lost a portion of their family. “I’m so sorry, Elvis,” I tell him.

  “It was the past, Andie. I try not to let it haunt me.” He sets the box on the desk. I walk closer to him as he opens it. “Do you think she would like this?” Inside the box is a small wooden bow with matching arrows, undoubtedly handmade, shrunken to the perfect size for a child’s hands. “She hunted with me, on our ranch, every weekend I was home. I made this for her birthday, but… I never got to give it to her.” He runs his hand along the smooth wood of the bow.

  I think about Lina’s training. With Adam and Elvis teaching me how to use the weapons, it couldn’t be more perfect. “Are you sure you want to give this up?” I ask him.

  “It’s wasting its life here sitting on a dusty shelf in a barn. This was meant for so much more. This was meant to bring happiness to a child. I’ve kept it long enough.”

  “She will love it. Thank you so much.” I stop myself as I turn to leave. “Elvis, what did you do before all of this?” I ask him.

  He adjusts the brim of his winter cap, looking towards the cabinet of guns. “I’ve always done something similar to this,” he tells me vaguely.

  “Similar to what? Running a farm or being a Volker?” I ask, looking into his eyes. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t so short. It impedes my ability to pressure people into telling me the truth.

  “Let’s just say a little of both. Why don’t you go get some rest, Andie? I hear you have work to do.” He guides me out of his office, placing his hand on my shoulder.

  It seems Elvis has his secrets. He runs a farm efficiently and he seems to know what he’s doing with minimal help. But at the same time he is our only Volker out here, our only protection. I highly doubt Morris would assign him out here if he weren’t highly trained. Perhaps he was in the military like Adam, or the CIA, or the Secret Service. Who knows? He’s our bodyguard now and so far I can’t complain about his performance.

  --

  “Mommy, I’m going to be seven soon,” Lina announces to me as I comb her long hair.

  “I can’t believe it, Lina. You’ll be able to drink coffee.” I giggle with her.

  “Coffee is only for adults,” she tells me matter-of-factly.

  “Is there anything special you would like for your birthday?”

  “I was wondering if Adam could make spaghetti. It’s my favorite,” she responds.

  That should be simple enough. But, I haven’t heard from Adam in days. Not since the Committee meeting. Not since I broke my marriage vows with him.

  He is without a doubt busy, trying to get the Residents under control and re-medicated. Still, it can’t hurt to try. “I’ll call him today, Lina.”

  She pumps her little fists in the air. “Yay! I can’t wait.”

  I bring her to the school-house, running into Sam on the short walk. He picks Lina up, letting her ride on his shoulders.

  “How’s your training?” I ask him.

  “Good. I think.”

  “I barely see you, besides dinner and school…” I trail off as I see Blithe standing on the porch of the schoolhouse sweeping leaves off the steps.

  “Ms. Black runs an intense curriculum. I think this might actually be harder than medical school.” He laughs a little.

  I tell them goodbye for the day and return to my desk. Staring at the phone, I try to build up the courage to pick up the receiver. I need to talk to him, but it’s hard knowing we haven’t spoken directly since that night. I need to do this for Lina, I tell myself, her only birthday wish being his secret spaghetti recipe.

  Finally, I have a brief moment of courage. I pick it up and ask the operator for Adam.

  “Yes,” he sounds distracted as usual.

  “It’s Andie.”

  “I know. Are you ok?” I wonder how he always knows when I’m calling.

  “Lina’s birthday is this weekend. Her only request was for your spaghetti. Can you come?” There is a mixture of voices talking near him, so loud I can barely hear. “Adam?”

  “Yes,” he speaks loudly into the phone. “I think I can arrange it.”

  “Ok. We don’t have any noodles, can you bring some?” There are more voices, interrupting us. “You sound busy.”

  “You have no idea. I have to go now. I’ll see you this weekend.”

  I hang up the phone, feeling a little lighter and hopeful that Lina might actually have a decent birthday.

  --

  Lina’s birthday is in the morning.

  I’ve successfully made her a cake from scratch. It took me two tries using an old cookbook from the library-house before I got it right: a homemade vanilla cake with our own flour and eggs. The rest of the ingredients I had to have Elvis send for. Sam is hiding it at his place so she doesn’t see it before dinner.

  Getting her to bed was a process, her excitement barely containable.

  Now I sit in front of the computer, a steaming cup of coffee warming my cold fingers. I’m not there long when Stevie walks into the office, wagging her tail.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask her.

  She whines, tilting her head to the side. As she trots towards the front of the house her nails tap on the wooden floor. I get up and follow her. I can see a shadow on the front porch. Stevie jumps up on the door, wagging her tail. I am relieved to see through the window that it’s Adam, his arms filled with bags. I unlock the door and let him in.

  “I was afraid you weren’t coming.” I take a few of the bags from his arms and bring them to the kitchen.

  “I pretty much had to sneak out,” he tells me, setting the grocery bag on the counter.

  “How are the Residents?”

  “Under control, they’re back on their medication. Thankfully it didn’t take long. But Crane still wants patrols all night.”

  “What’s in the bags?” I open up one of the paper bags to find it filled with boxes of pasta. “How did you get all this?”

  I know the District food supply is low. The grocery store is reserved for the Sovereign, stocked only after the Residents receive their rations.

  “I told Alexander it was Lina’s birthday. He snuck in a few extra boxes.” He reaches into another bag. “This is for you.” He hands me a heavy envelope. “It’s from Morris, said you requested it.”

  I open the top of the large envelope to see what’s inside. Brain scans. I leave the room to place them on my desk. When I return Adam has the bags emptied and he’s holding a small wrapped box in his hand.

  “I need to hide this. It’s for Lina,” he tells me.

  “You didn’t need to bring her a present.”

  “Yes I did.” I point up to one of the tall cupboards I don’t use. He sets the neatly wrapped present on the shelf then turns to me. “I have a bone to pick with you,” he tells me, smirking.

  I step back, unsure of what he is talking about. I’ve done nothing more than read and mope around and try to figure out how to alter the human race to meet Crane’s demands. “You haven’t been sleeping.”

  I was preparing myself for something worse. Maybe that he found out that I know about the other Districts. “Whatever, Adam, I haven’t been sleeping for years.”

  “This is different, you’re exhausted. I can see it on your face.” He folds his arms across his chest, waiting for my response.

  Of course I’m exhausted. I have all day a
nd all night to think about how I’m going to help Crane create an army of minions, how I’m going to keep Lina and Sam safe, how I’m going to explain to Ian one day that I slept with another man.

  “What are you, my babysitter? I don’t need to explain to you that I can’t sleep. Everyone knows, they just don’t want to say anything to me about it.”

  “It’s because you won’t let them.” He crosses the room in a few long strides. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

  I want to offer him the couch or the extra bed at Sam’s place. I don’t want to risk it happening again. I don’t want those feelings to come back when he touches me. But he takes my hand pulling me towards the bedroom.

  “Adam.” I hold myself still as he tugs on my arm.

  “What?” He asks so innocently.

  “Before, what we did. I think it was a mistake. I think I made a huge mistake getting this close to you. Once Crane finds out he’s only going to use it against us.” My voice starts to waver. Because I’m nervous, and confused, and I can see what my words are doing to him; they’re hurting him.

  His lips spread into a thin line, he doesn’t say anything, he just gives a quick nod.

  “Just sleep,” I tell him. I warn him. I warn myself.

  I let Adam pull me into his arms, wrapping them around me. And I’m sure he is asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow. I follow suit and let myself fall asleep to the steady drum of Adam’s heartbeat.

  --

  “Mommy, Mommy, it’s my birthday today!” Lina shouts as she runs down the hall. Stevie’s nails tap on the floor as she runs with Lina. I hear her stop and sniff. She must smell the pancakes. “Are you making pancakes?” She asks as she enters the kitchen.

  Adam and I sit at the small dining table, sipping at our cups of coffee. There is a tall plate of apple pancakes at Lina’s seat. “Adam, you came!” Lina runs to him, throwing her arms around his neck.

  “Happy Birthday, Lina! I hope you don’t mind I made pancakes.”

  “The apple ones?” He nods yes. “Yum!”

  Just then there is a knock on the door. I can see from the window that it is Sam. I wave him in.

  “Uncle Sammy!” Lina runs to hug Sam.

  “Happy Birthday, Lina! I can’t believe you’re getting so big!” Sam picks her up and twirls her in a big bear hug.

  They both return to the table and we indulge in the pancake breakfast. I even give one to Stevie, which she lays on the floor with, savoring the pancake with small bites, looking up to observe us. Even though she’s just a dog I know what she’s thinking. We look like a family again.

  --

  Ms. Black has cancelled classes, not because of Lina’s birthday but because it is time to harvest the crops. Something Elvis can’t complete alone. Once we are done eating we dress in warm clothes and head out to the barn. Blithe and the boys are there, Cashel and Marcus. I watch them as they greet Lina, looking dapper in their woodsman hats and heavy vests. I wonder when their birthdays are, and if we will be celebrating them, or if the ritual of birthday celebrations will become a thing of the past.

  It takes us all day to harvest the squash, corn, tomatoes and what’s left of the cucumbers. The Guardians watch us in the field. Some of them, including Stevie, take the initiative to pull a few acorn squash and pumpkins off the vines, carrying them to the tractor carts in their mouths. Everything is brought to the canning barn which contains cold storage and canning supplies.

  Over the next few days we will work on canning and freezing all of the food for winter.

  By dinner everyone gathers at our house. Adam makes a huge pot of spaghetti and there’s fresh bread from Blithe. Just before we all finish Sam sneaks out to collect the birthday cake from his living quarters at the library-house. There are no candles. Lina still beams with excitement as we all sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to her and slice the cake.

  By the time we’re done eating and cleaning it is close to bedtime. Blithe ushers the boys out, but not before she reminds Sam that classes resume in the morning and he has work due. With that, Sam hugs us goodbye and the only ones left are Adam and Elvis. Adam pulls the small box down from the cupboard and Elvis retrieves his gift from the hallway. Compared to Lina’s last birthday celebration this is bare minimum. She opens the small box from Adam to find a tiny fairy statue inside. She hugs Adam then runs to her room with it. Next she opens the old box to find the bow and arrow from Elvis.

  “Wow,” she lets out in a barely audible whisper of awe. “Am I going to learn how to shoot?” She looks to me and I nod yes to her.

  Elvis walks over to her, taking the small bow out of the box and showing her how to hold it correctly. The smooth wood bow fits perfectly in her small hands.

  “When you are done with school one day I can show you how to shoot some targets,” Elvis tells her.

  “Isn’t this great, mom?” Lina asks me.

  “Yes, Lina, you’re a much loved girl,” I tell her.

  --

  Adam leaves. He doesn’t say goodbye. He’s simply not there when I get done putting Lina to bed. It’s almost a relief. I don’t have to worry about trying to avoid his advances and I don’t have to worry about controlling mine. I feel guilty enough from sleeping with him the first time. It’s already a problem; how I feel when he’s around, how I feel when he touches me. I have no self-control. And I can’t let Crane find this out because he will most certainly use Adam against me. Or worse, he will do something to Adam.

  Elvis and I spend the next day canning the freshly picked crops and preparing the food for freezing. By the time we are done everyone’s freezers and cupboards are fully stocked.

  That evening Elvis shows Lina how to shoot the bow and arrow. I watch her from a distance as she perfects her stance and shoots her first arrow straight into the ground. She shoots five more times before she hits the target. Not long after that she almost hits the bulls-eye. We all high-five when she is done. Elvis tells her she is a natural.

  Since winter is coming, Elvis has the idea to set up a shooting range in one of the barns, giving us the ability to practice over the cold and snowy winter months.

  CHAPTER eight

  Winter blows in and it’s one of the worst I’ve seen in my life. Part of me wonders if it’s because of the rapid change in the human population, the sharp decrease in carbon dioxide emissions, and the earth trying to recover from the years of pollution which have suddenly ended.

  The snow piles up to the second story of each house and Elvis has to get an old bulldozer from town to move it. The Guardians resort to hiding in the barns and our houses. After the first snow storm they all showed up from the far fields and the woods, collecting in the courtyard, their long fur frozen into white dreadlocks. I’m pretty sure Elvis had told me there were twenty of them when we first got here, but I counted at least thirty-five that day. Now there are two Guardians that sleep on the floor in our living room. Most of the time I barely know they are there unless Stevie decides she wants to play with them, which keeps us entertained due to their massive size compared to her.

  I work at night and keep myself busy during the day baking bread for everyone and preparing dinners. The only time I sleep successfully is during the one or two nights during the week when Adam visits. He brings supplies from town. I get the feeling it’s the only time he sleeps, too. His eyes are usually heavy with exhaustion and neither of us have the energy to do anything besides curl around each other and fall into a heavy slumber. We still don’t talk about what we did. It’s easy to sense the tension each time he’s here. Still, both of us avoid the issue.

  Each day I dwell on the thought that I have a job to do. Not just for Crane but for the Funding Entities. I work for hours, days, weeks, researching pathways, studying the Residents’ behavior from the surveillance videos, reviewing the brain scans. I even order brain scans from the Japanese District. So I can compare the medicated to the non-medicated brains.

  And then, it seems to happen suddenly in the middle of t
he night as I’m staring at my computer screen. I start making the connections in my own brain. All the material I’ve absorbed, weaving it all together. The data, the images, each providing me with the answer I never thought I’d figure out: exactly what Crane wants.

  The medication Crane has been giving the Residents has had an extraordinary physical reaction. It’s caused the Residents’ amygdalas to shrink slightly, just enough to prevent the normal responses to anger and fear. Their central nervous systems also contain an increased number of oxytocin receptors, much more than a normal person. This is why they act the way they do. But it doesn’t have a lasting effect. From the scans it seems the brain recovers, slowly, once the medication is stopped. That should explain the uprisings, the confusion experienced by the Residents when Crane ordered the titrations to start. They must have been too quick.

  To make this permanent, all that needs to be done are a few DNA alterations using a retrovirus. These gene therapies have been done for almost twenty years now. It’s how they treated breast cancer, cystic fibrosis and a few other diseases. One injection and the Residents are set for life, they become what Crane wants. Cooperative malleable sheep. Then, once he breeds the DNA into the new population, he’s set for life.

  My work is almost done. I am responsible for pairing the Residents. Therefore I am responsible for breeding this into the Residents. I am responsible for changing the human race.

  For the remainder of the night I stare out into the falling snow mulling it over and over in my head. I will be responsible for these people. I will be guilty for creating a sub-breed within the human race, and for what? To keep my daughter safe? To keep myself safe? To keep Ian safe? Yes the Residents will be cared for, but they will also be responsible for keeping up the District. For cleaning, running the buses, growing the food, everything. And if it ever comes to the time in which the Sovereign are no longer around to protect them, then what happens? These people would happily do whatever anyone told them to do. If this group of people got into the wrong hands, anyone worse than Crane, it could be bad. They could be much worse than just sheep. They could be turned into lemmings, or suicide bombers. This just doesn’t seem right.