Iris (The Color of Water and Sky Book 1)

by Andrew Gates

  “Iris,” the familiar voice began, “it’s your mother. I hope you got my message I left a few weeks ago on your first day. I know you’re probably wondering why I’ve tried to call you again so soon. I don’t normally do this. I just want to see you, Iris. I just think you should stop by sometime. Or at least give me your address. Please stop focusing on the past. I really want to see you.” Her mother was getting straight to the point this time around. Iris wondered if something was really the matter or if this was just another bluff. “And your father… well, it’s your father I think you should really see. Look, he had nothing to do with you and the school. That was my fault, Iris. Don’t blame him. Visit us sometime, for your father’s sake. Do it for him,” she said.

  Do it for your father. Her mother had used those same words in her last message.

  Iris expected more. What a strange message, Iris thought. Why has she become so persistent lately? For a moment she considered picking up the pod and calling her right back, but a familiar anxiety bubbled back up. No, she said to herself. Let it go. That tactic is not going to work on me, mom.

  This was too much for one night. She did not want to read, she did not want to do any more work and she did not want to think about her parents for another instant. Without knowing what else to do, Iris threw her hands into the air and marched right off to bed. That night, she fell asleep earlier than she could remember ever falling asleep in the past 10 years and dreamed of animals on four legs racing through wide natural floors of green.

  The buzzing of her alarm clock was the next thing Iris heard and the plain white walls above her head the next thing she saw. A full night’s sleep.

  The day began as any other. Iris prepared a small breakfast, gathered her things, reviewed the teaching materials for the day and made herself presentable enough for work. When she arrived at Harrison however, things started to seem a bit odd. Normally a few students would arrive early and wait outside her door, but today her room was as empty as the multicolored zones at noon. Perhaps the early students are running late today, she thought. But as time passed, not a single student arrived and her room remained empty. Iris occasionally stuck her head out to peer down the hallway, wondering if perhaps school had been canceled without her knowledge. But whenever she looked around, she saw students busily walking from one side of the hallway to the next. When the clock on her pod told her five minutes had passed since her class was scheduled to start, Iris got up and pushed the door open, looking for the first teacher she could find. The door opened right onto none other than Tim himself.

  “Ow!” he cried as the door smashed into his heavy frame. He grabbed his stomach with both hands and leaned over.

  Iris pulled the door back slowly and approached him gently with her hands out.

  “I’m so sorry, Tim!” she said. She grabbed his back with one hand and pressed her hand on his chest with the other.

  “Don’t worry, Iris. It took me by surprise more than anything,” he said as he straightened his back and pushed her away from him. A smile started to appear on his face, but not the happy one Iris had come to know. This one seemed less genuine, almost forced. “Fun way to start the morning,” he said.

  Now that she knew he was okay, Iris took a breath and looked around. Tim wore a fancier suit than normal. He had a plain white shirt, a straight black tie and recently ironed black pants with a jacket to match it. But it was not Tim’s attire that took most of Iris’s attention, but rather the people around him.

  An older woman stood next to Tim, about Iris’s height. She had darker skin and long dark hair. She wore a grey pantsuit with a black shirt underneath. But most shocking about this woman was her demeanor. The way she held herself screamed professionalism. Her expression was emotionless and her spine straight as black zone wall. Just one look at her face and Iris knew she was in charge. But in charge of what?

  Next to her stood a tall man wearing a suit similar to Tim’s, only better filled. His frame was massive. The outline of his thick muscles could be seen even through the layers of his suit jacket. Iris had never seen a man this large and physically imposing, at least never in person. He reminded her of the characters from old Greek myth like Hercules or Atlas, great men with unmatched strength. But this man is no myth and I doubt he can hold up the world.

  Behind them were two Navy guards in pristine white uniforms, each holding what appeared to Iris as assault rifles, though she was no expert on military arms. Much like the woman in grey, these men held emotionless faces, staring straight forward as if they were statues of the surface.

  “Iris, I would like to introduce to you…” Tim paused as if trying to remember the name.

  “Dr. Sanja Parnel,” she interrupted, holding out her hand. Iris shook it, noting the firmness of her grip. This woman clearly had no patience for Tim’s slower dialog.“Pleased to meet you. Iris Vitneskja.”

  “Yes, I know,” the woman replied. “May we come in?” she asked.

  Iris did not respond. The woman simply walked past her before she could answer and pushed her way into the door. The tall man followed, leaving the two Navy men behind in the hallway.

  “Tim, what is this? What is going on?” asked Iris, directing her attention to the principle in this woman’s absence.

  “She is from the government, Iris. She insisted we let her talk to you.” Iris had not noticed until now but his voice sounded nervous. It was as if he did not want to be here.

  “Where are my students?”

  Tim flattened out his clothes and swallowed, as if trying to make himself appear more professional.

  “When we learned that Dr. Parnel wanted to meet with you, we asked the students to go to another homeroom. Your first class has also been postponed,” he explained.

  Iris looked up at the two guards. They still remained motionless. Is it the armed guards making Tim nervous, or the woman?

  “What does she want?”

  Tim put his hands up in the air as if to suggest he did not know.

  “She was vague. But she made it sound important. You have to understand, she’s government. We have to let her in,” he explained as if trying to justify his actions. “Look, I don’t want to have armed guards walking through the hallways either. But what can I do?”

  Iris had not even thought of that. She looked around and noticed that students were still out in the halls, but instead of walking busily from one room to the next, they were now mostly standing, staring and taking photos of the guards with their personal pods. She wondered how this was going to affect their school’s already declining reputation with the parents. It’s certainly not going to help, she thought.“Miss Vitneskja!” she heard from inside the classroom. The government woman was clearly growing impatient.

  “I guess I need to go,” she said to Tim, who simply nodded and walked away backwards. She had never seen him so eager to get out of a situation before.

  As Iris turned and entered her classroom, the two guards stepped forward and placed themselves on either side of the door, watching the interior of the hallway like she imagined an old predator from the surface would watch its prey. Those middle school students can be pretty deadly, she sarcastically joked to herself. But as she entered the room, the stern dark eyes of the woman in grey immediately erased any humor from Iris’s system.

  “Miss Vitneskja, if you will take a seat please,” she said, standing like a support beam in the center of her room.The tall man stood in the corner, now with his arms folded. Iris imagined that together their gaze was powerful enough to bring a loud classroom to an immediate silence. But perhaps that would have to be an experiment for a later day.

  “I am sorry, Mrs. Parnel, but I am a bit caught off guard by all this,” she said, realizing that she now felt just as nervous as Tim. She glanced down at her shaking hands and decided to hide them behind her back.

  “If you will take a seat please,” the woman repeated.

  Iris did as she was told. She went over to her desk and sat down. As she
did, she realized how unprofessional she must have looked with her uncombed hair and red sweater with a large brown snowflake design sewed onto the front. The whole sweater was two sizes too big for her. At least my pants are good, she thought, looking down at her tight black pants.

  “Iris, do you know who I represent?” the woman asked, walking towards the desk.

  “Tim told me you work for the government,” she responded.

  The woman glanced over to the tall man for a moment and he let out a slight chuckle.

  “I am a government contractor, not officially a government employee, but close enough. I have top level security clearance and a number of high-ranking military commanders two taps away on my personal pod,” she explained. “In short, I’m not the kind of person you want to play games with.”

  Iris leaned back a bit, wondering if the doctor had felt threatened by something she had done.

  “I am not trying to be hostile, Mrs. Parnel, I just don’t know what’s going on. That’s all,” she explained.

  “It’s Doctor Parnel, Dr. Sanja Parnel, and don’t worry. You haven’t done anything wrong. I just wanted to make myself clear at the start so that you know how serious I am,” she answered.

  Well you certainly got that point across.

  “What are you here to ask me?” Iris wondered, getting to the point.

  The doctor straightened her posture again and took a few steps back. As she walked up against a desk, she put her hands behind her and leaned back onto it.

  “Well I’d certainly like to get to that, but before I can, I’m going to need your signature,” she responded.

  “A signature for what?”

  “A non-disclosure agreement. Everything we are about to say in this meeting must remain top secret until the boys on my pod tell me otherwise. If you mention anything from this meeting to anyone, you shall be punished to the full extent of the law. Do you understand?” she asked.

  Iris paused for a moment to think. Whatever the doctor wanted, it did not seem good. Iris could tell something was wrong, very wrong. She was no legal expert but as far as she was aware, she was not required to sign the document at all. Simply saying no might be a better than going down this rabbit hole, she thought to herself, remembering the old tales of Alice and her white rabbit.

  “What if I refuse to sign?” she finally asked after a few moments of silence.

  The woman motioned over to the tall man, who nodded and unfolded his arms. He took a step forward but stopped in his place.

  “I don’t want to have to intimidate you, Miss Vitneskja but trust me, I can if I want. I’d much rather make a deal,” she explained.

  “What kind of deal?”

  “I understand you’re looking to move a field trip,” she replied. The dialog was fast and snappy. It reminded Iris of a well-choreographed dance.

  “I am.”

  The woman in grey let go of the desk behind her and leaned forward.

  “And I know people in high places that can move things around. So it sounds to me like we both have something to offer each other. If you agree to help me, not only will I get your field trip, but I can dismiss this entire legal dispute you seem to have dragged your school into,” she replied with a smile.

  “That was not my fault. The new curriculum was designed by the head of the department,” Iris explained defensively.

  The doctor put her hand up in the air. Somehow just a simple wave of the hand managed to silence Iris in an instant.

  “Look, I don’t really care about the specifics. The point is, you’re going to sign this,” she said. Clearly her patience was running thin, if she ever had any to begin with. She walked over to the big man, who pulled a large screen from his jacket pocket and handed it to her. The doctor powered it up and walked over to Iris’s desk.

  Iris started to read the document, but before she could even finish the title, the woman in grey handed her a thick black-tipped stylus.

  “Sign it,” she said.

  Without bothering to read any further, Iris simply did as she was told, scrolling to the bottom of the screen and signing her name on the line. The instant the stylus left the pod, the woman pulled it back and handed it over to the man. She’s very persuasive, Iris thought, realizing that she had just blindly signed a legal contract. She’s smart too, whoever she is. She knew I would accept her deal before I could even answer.

  “Well now that that’s done,” the woman said, slowly pacing back and forth, “let’s get down to business. As I said before, I am a contract worker for the government. But as I have not said before, I am a forensic investigator and I am working on a rather peculiar case.”

  Iris froze up again. Is she investigating me? She wondered. I haven’t done anything!

  “What are you investigating?”

  Sanja stopped moving and stared at Iris. Every time she looked into her dark black eyes, Iris felt more and more uneasy.

  “You might want to stay seated for this.” She reached out her hand towards the man, who passed her a small holographic projector. “Remember,” the investigator continued, “what you are about to see is top secret.”

  As if I needed reminding.

  The woman stood up tall, straightened her back and swallowed. Iris wondered if this was her way of making herself feel confident. As if she needs any more confidence.

  “Four weeks ago a prototype Cassidy X20 went missing on a test operation near the surface of the ocean, not too far from the station.” The image of the submarine appeared on the projection.

  “The exact details of the submarine and its mission are still considered secret, but what I can tell you is that this crew traveled to the highest depths ever ventured by the Atlantic since the establishment of the Federation. Unfortunately, before the mission could be completed, the crew came under attack by an unknown enemy using what appeared to be a large circular glowing defense system. The system was armed with some sort of plasma cannon that we have not yet identified, which leads us to believe these attackers are not from the Atlantic Station.” As the woman explained this, Iris wondered what all this had to do with her. She did not belong with the military. She was just a teacher. The woman must have read this reaction on Iris’s face because she addressed her confusion right away.

  “Interestingly enough,” she continued, “the circular object also created a current of superheated water traveling upwards towards the surface. This fact has led some to consider the possibility that our attackers may not be from the ocean at all.”

  At last the point. Iris could hardly believe what she was hearing. Is she actually suggesting that surface people attacked a Navy submarine? This was an obvious impossibility. Ludicrous theories of surface intervention had been made about this and that since the first days of the Descent, yet none had ever been proven true. At one point a shortage of the food chemical E290 was attributed to the head of the chemistry division secretly selling the supply to surface survivors. As it turned out, there had simply been an issue with the equipment used to produce the chemical. Another time unusually high current activity had been attributed to surface sailors dropping depth charges into the ocean. It was later discovered that a volcano had erupted, changing the temperature of the water in the area. These stories came and went all the time whenever something abnormal occurred in or around the station. Uninformed rabbles were one thing, but she was surprised to see top members of the government openly considering possibilities like this.

  “Are you seriously considering surface people responsible for attacking your boat?” Iris asked, not holding back her own opinion on the matter.

  “We are. This is the first time we’ve been attacked since the freezers woke us up 200-whatever years ago. We have to consider any and all possibilities,” she replied. She continued to stand resolute, as did her muscular assistant.

  “What would you have me do?” Iris asked.

  The woman walked up to the desk, right through the projector’s image. Iris was not sure if this was another
power play or if the woman simply enjoyed changing positions.

  “You’ll need to take the morning off so I can show you some footage. I want you to study it carefully, taking time to analyze what you see. I can supply you with as much information as you need, so long as you have been granted clearance to hear it. I need to know if there’s any legitimacy to this theory, Miss Vitneskja.”

  “You need a surface professional. Why me? Talk to Doctor Harmon Warslaw of the Friedrich Institute or Michael Jakande, a researcher for the Atlantic Library. They were my teachers,” Iris explained. The woman appeared unimpressed by the list of names so Iris decided to list more. “Kate Mulling, Walter Bishop, Ivan Luis, Miguel Bloomfield, these are all more qualified people than myself.”

  At first the woman in grey made no response, neither verbal nor physical. Then she leaned in, staring into Iris’s eyes. Though she only stared for a few seconds, it was intense and crippling, like a knife’s blade piercing into her skin. After a moment, she leaned back again, turned around and walked a few steps back to where she stood before. She let out a deep sigh.

  “We tried all of those people,” she said. “Every one of them said we should talk to you.”

  “Every one of them?” Iris asked, stunned.

  “We did our research. Our first instinct was to search for all the top surface historians in the station. But everyone we found, at least everyone who had worked with you, told us that you knew your stuff better than anyone.”

  “Even Doctor Warslaw?” Iris asked.

  “Especially Doctor Warslaw.” The tone in her voice was crippling. “To be honest, with all the high praise, I expected to find you teaching in a university or writing the next great study. But here I find you, behind a desk in a middle school classroom with a controversy on your hands, trying desperately just to move a field trip. You might not know who I am, but I know you. We do our research thoroughly, which unfortunately means our job takes time. I’ve looked you up, Miss Vitneskja. I know you took some time off before continuing your studies. You probably think you’ve finally made it big in your life, like you’re finally out of whatever entrapment kept you from the university for as long as it did. But trust me, this job is below you. You are no more ahead of where you were at this point in your life 10 years ago, only this time you have a paycheck coming in each month.”