CHOSEN: A Paranormal, Sci-Fi, Dystopian Novel

by A. Bernette

  Rupert smiled. “Great. Are you ready? It’s going to be another long night.” Rupert was glad he was able to get in a few hours of sleep before starting the cycle over again.

  They headed back to the science center where Zura was still hunched over her desk. Rupert glanced over at Mave who simply shook her head. It was best not to interrupt her when she was like that. They had enough of their own work to do and they all realized the urgency that surrounded getting this to the right people.

  Rupert and Mave decided it was best to work in the ROC room so they could discuss what they were doing and not disturb the lioness that would be Zura if they made more than a whisper. As they were preparing to go through the door leading to the chamber and ROC room Rupert dropped a shoe on the floor, making a loud plop sound.

  Zura spun her chair around and gave him a look. “Can we get some quiet in here, please? We’ve got a lot of work to do.” She turned her chair back around and glanced one more time at Rupert and Mave as they walked through the door, shoes securely in hand.

  Once in, Rupert rolled his eyes. “I’m glad we don’t have to work in there right now.”

  “Yeah, well, we will have to be back with her soon and it better be with a plan of what we are able to show. You are my data man, so let’s pull this together,” Mave said.

  She sat down beside Rupert as they pulled up the data using the same projector Zura had used earlier. Together they began paging through it month by month, noting the anomalies.

  “This might take a while,” Rupert said before stopping and looking at Mave from the side. “Mave, what do you think is going to happen once UniCorps sees this report?” Rupert asked, wanting her honest opinion.

  “What I think doesn’t really matter at this point. But, since you asked - I would love for them to read it thoroughly, get their scientists right on it to investigate the impact of pumping on the fault lines and tectonic plates, and then unanimously decide to enact the changes that are most likely to solve this issue without lives being lost. You know, stop the blasted pumping program. Then, for us to have averted a global catastrophe and to have fulfilled our mission. I would love for them to finally consider and start working on Johan’s solution for pollution control as well,” Mave smiled knowingly at Rupert.

  “BUT…I doubt it’ll work out quite like that. There is a lot riding on the ARC project, the emissions project, the corporate interests, and people’s desire to feel everything is alright, even if it’s a lie. So, does that tell you enough of what I think?” she finished with smug smile crossing her full lips.

  Rupert just looked at her for a moment. “Smartass.”

  “Yes, I am. Thanks for noticing,” Mave smiled at Rupert teasingly. If she hadn’t fully committed to this life and mission she would’ve taken things further with Rupert. But she didn’t have the luxury of that kind of life. She’d made the choice and not sticking with it could cost too much.

  “Mave, we are going to have to go back about two and a half years to get to the start of this. Do you remember when the representatives and other Region officials voted to expand the drilling of emission pump holes?” Rupert asked turning to Mave.

  “I think it was about ten years ago right? They were concerned that they were overusing the existing ones and convinced the Citizens Review group that more holes spread out would solve the problem and not cause issues of too many emissions being dumped in one place,” Mave answered as she tried to remember the details from a decade before.

  “That’s right,” Rupert added. “It went into effect almost immediately, they started drilling, and within a year the first holes in the second phase were operational. They’ve been bragging about how well it has worked and all the while it has just been like a festering boil just below the surface.”

  “Maybe they got excited too soon,” Mave said.

  “Clearly. We looked at the older holes and their spikes are higher, and the first signs of damage started nearly ten years ago, right after they approved the new set of holes. Those first holes are five to six years older. So it took about seven years after they started being used for us to see these spikes.

  “So basically we know that if we are seeing this with the two dozen initial holes, we can expect to see the spikes show up in the same pattern for the newer ones,” Mave nodded pensively.

  “And, some of the older holes from the second round are what show up here,” Rupert said as he let himself continue processing what he was seeing, what he knew, and what he could predict when he started putting the pieces together.

  “They can’t make any more holes, Mave and it is dangerous to continue using the oldest ones, just like you and Stephen said.”

  “I know. Can you show that in a picture, graph, or chart? Make it clear as the water out there?” Mave pointed at the ocean outside the window.

  The view outside of the windows reminded Mave once more about why they had to choose this place to set up camp. Then she remembered and shuddered as she thought of the people funding the program and the ARC. It was safely away from any fault lines and its location in the coldest place on earth, meant that even with global warming it could remain habitable, for a time.

  The Antarctic Research Center sprawled above ground and beneath the surface across nearly two and a half acres, and two submarines could be anchored to it from the main control areas where the science lab and science center were located. The main building itself was nearly 70,000 square feet with enough living units to house just over 800 people. Four additional outpost buildings totaled another 10,000 square feet and could house up to another 220 people.

  Every month, when supplies were delivered, an extra portion was delivered to the long-term supply storage. This area was kept under tight security and was accessible for emergency purposes only by a limited group of cleared personnel. The ARC, along with the long-term storage, was subject to inspection by UniCorps and the World Consensus when they sent representatives from the respective Science Divisions at the end of each work season.

  They’d be coming soon and before arrived they would have received all of the information being pulled together. It spelled out barely a sliver of hope in what was a mountain of doom.

  Mave sighed as she thought about the children. She realized that most of them were no longer children but were crossing over or had already crossed into the status of para-adults. She and the other Keepers had been assigned to them to ensure they were guided towards their collective mission. They were the most important part of her own personal mission.

  They were eight children with their own missions that they didn’t even know about yet. She sometimes worried for them, but she and the other Keepers could only guide them. Their choices and actions were still their own, unless it became an issue of life or death, or became mission critical, then the Unseens would step in.

  Mave faulted her generation and the generations before her for more than two hundred years, that had put them all in this situation. The mindset that led them to the pile of mess they were now trying to dig their way out of went even further back than that. They had failed to stop the madness of excess when they had the chance, and had just kept pushing it down the line. Now they were running out of time.

  Rupert stopped and put down the tablet he held to stare at Mave. She was somewhere else. He’d been sitting there talking to her for nearly a minute before he realized she wasn’t paying any attention to him.

  “Are you coming back anytime soon?” Rupert asked, interrupting her thoughts.

  “What?” Mave asked. She didn’t realize how long she’d been in her own world.

  “I think I found something else. Look at this map from our survey the year we started this project. Now look at the one before they started the last twenty holes. Now this is what we measured this week.” He paused letting her take in the images. “Notice anything?” Rupert asked.

  Mave looked at him confused. “Give me a hint what I should even be looking for.”

  Rupert brought up the def
inition of some of the lines, highlighting them in a bright yellowish orange. “Look at the fault lines. I just made them brighter for you.” He stepped back letting her get closer.

  “Am I mistaken or am I seeing what I think I’m seeing? Are those lines bigger? And there,” Mave said pointing to a line that ran from the northern tip of Southern Allegiance down and across the top corner, “is that a new one?” she asked with a wide eyed look that blended recognition and confusion. This couldn’t really be possible.

  “You are not mistaken, my dear. This is the proverbial smoking gun,” he added.

  “Rupert, what does that even mean? Smoking gun? Where do you come up with this stuff?”

  “It’s an old saying. Never mind. What’s important is that we have it.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Motion

  Antarctic Research Center

  “Stella will be at the hangar in an hour and sixteen minutes. Are you still going with me to meet her?” Stephen asked his dad before turning back around in his chair. Although it didn’t show on his face, Stephen was relieved and happy that it was finally time for her to come home.

  He played with his yellow cup filled with hot chocolate. At least it was hot an hour ago. It had since cooled to room temperature and was no longer appealing as he gently twirled the ribbons of chocolate around the top with his index finger. He’d finished his part of the report and was now at a loss of what to do next, aside from wait.

  There was no one to talk to since everyone was running around as if it was the end of the world. Occasionally, someone would ask him to run some data or look at some probabilities or enter something or even make coffee, but otherwise he was nearly invisible.

  Sleep was hard to relax into with all that was happening. Even after letting it claim him the night before, he’d woken much earlier than normal that morning. Waking so early had given him plenty of time to get work done on his class project, which he’d based on the work he was doing on the ARC.

  He’d waited until after he knew others would be up and working before he meandered through the halls to the science center to keep an eye on the progress and for a little company while he waited for Stella to return. When he’d gotten to the science center he quickly realized that everyone had been up early that day.

  He waited anxiously for confirmation that they were really going to do something – the right thing. After waiting more than an hour, Zura finally came out of the ROC room with a look of satisfaction.

  “I’ve got it all together. We are ready and I think it’ll make sense to our funders, thanks to all of you working so hard.” For the first time in months, she looked content with the work they’d done but Stephen was waiting for whatever else she would say next – what he assumed would be orders.

  “Can each of you take a section to review before I send it off?” she asked Johan, Rupert, and Mave.

  “Do you all think we should wait until after the Gala to send this? Or do we send it before the Gala and ruin the party?” It was evident that Zura had already thought about it but was hoping that what she thought of as the best idea was shared by her team. The annual Gala was the one time every year she felt like they actually did something fun as a group.

  The ARC had more than a hundred people working hard to keep it running. Most of the staff she saw hardly more than once or twice a month, if that. They were working behind the scenes and in the field. Their grueling schedule and demanding work made it so that she rarely got to tell them thank you and honor them face to face.

  If she sent the report before the Gala, it would mean being on with UniCorps and the World Consensus science divisions instead of with her people celebrating their hard work. Even better, she actually might get to spend some time with her kids if she delayed sending the report for just one night.

  “Zura?” Johan said louder. He’d started answering her question and realized she hadn’t heard him.

  “Yeah? So what do you all think?” she said, still not really listening. She was nervous and her hands shook ever so slightly as she tried to push off the other feeling just beginning to tickle at the back of her neck - fear.

  “Why do you want to wait, Zura?” Mave asked.

  “I didn’t say I wanted to wait. I was just asking what you thought about the timing of delivery. Before or after the Gala,” she said trying to be casual.

  “Zura, we all know you better than that,” Johan said, with a soft smile trying to let her know it was okay.

  “What if they get this report tonight, before the Gala, and they start reading it immediately? I can’t send it without marking it Urgent and so they will open it up. Once they open it up, they will read it. Once they read it, they will call me for a teleconference, and then I will have to pull all of you, well most of you, into a room and out of the party to answer questions and get drilled. So instead of enjoying the one fun thing we do the entire time we are on this block of ice, I have to pull everyone out of the party to be on a teleconference.” Zura caught her breath and sat down, frustrated. She hated feeling owned, but they were all owned.

  “Why don’t we plan to send it ridiculously early the next morning? There’s not much that we can do or they can do if they see the report tonight versus tomorrow morning. After all, it is the weekend and most of their staff will be gone. Just the jerks who run the place, I mean the officers, will be interested enough to open it,” Mave said confidently.

  “She’s got a point, Zura. Waiting what amounts to ten or twelve hours won’t matter. Not in the grand scheme of things. Trust me,” Johan agreed.

  Zura suddenly felt better. She didn’t know what she would do without either of them, even if Johan did get under her skin sometimes.

  “You’re right, both of you. We get one night a year when we can celebrate as friends, party, toast, and have a good time. Let’s not ruin it. There’ll be plenty of bad days ahead so why add one more any sooner?” Zura forced a smile.

  “Okay, you three,” she said looking at Johan, Mave, and Rupert, “you’ve got your parts to read and get back to me by the end of today. Johan are you going to the hangar with Stephen? I still need your eyes on this too and we don’t have much time. I mean you should go, but can you please come right back?” Zura didn’t hesitate to take charge when it came to their work. Her eyes lingered on them as they went off in their separate directions. She missed them. All of them.

  “Dad, wait. We need to head towards the hangar in twenty minutes to get Stella.”

  “Yes, Stephen. I know. I have the time too,” Johan said before putting the report down on the desk. “I’m going to get my outside gear on and you should too. I’ll meet you by the hangar’s exit door in fifteen minutes okay?”

  “Fifteen minutes,” Stephen said checking his watch again. He started out of the science center and Zura followed behind him into the tunnel.

  “Can I walk with you?” Zura asked as she caught up to him.

  “You’re my mom, mom. You also run the place,” Stephen said with a confused look on his face.

  “Stephen, I need you to do something for me while you are out there in the hangar. Is that okay?” Zura said searching his eyes rather than saying anything more.

  “Yes. What is it?” he asked.

  “I need you to take something with you. I need you to give it to the pilot, Jonathan Adams. He’s the only one you can give it to. He’s a longtime friend of mine. It’s very important that you keep it safe and that you don’t say anything about it. Stephen, look at me. I am trusting you with this.” Zura’s eyes penetrated his. She was more intense than usual, which worried Stephen.

  “Why don’t you ask Dad to do it?” Stephen asked worried. He looked at the palm of his hand which held a tiny microdot used to store data.

  It was attached to the outside of a small silvery candy wrapper that camouflaged it.

  “I can’t. He can’t do it. Only you can. It’s better this way. I need you to trust me.” Zura closed Stephen’s hand around the candy wrapper. Sh
e searched his eyes for a sign of understanding. Stephen looked at the candy wrapper then back at Zura before nodding once and walking away.

  He strode quickly to his bedroom, closed the door abruptly, and put the candy wrapper down on the desk. He only had ten minutes left before he was supposed to meet his dad. Before he did that he had to know what was on the microdot. What was she giving to the pilot and why?

  Stephen put on a coat warm enough for the cold air that got into the hangar. He then checked the lock on the door before throwing himself into the chair. He opened up the reader sitting near his computing system and placed the silver piece of candy in the holder. He directed the laser scanner over the dot and quickly made a copy of it to his own microdot before opening the single folder stored. It simply read ‘Noah’.

  He clicked the folder name and more files than could fit on his viewer showed. It would take time he didn’t have to think about where to even begin. The ARC was so big that he would need all two minutes he had left to jog to the hangar, where he would meet his dad and wait for Stella.

  Stephen closed the folder and removed the original microdot from the reader. He placed it inside of a small plastic bag and into his coat pocket. His curiosity raced ahead of him as he stood up from his seat and prepared to leave. Stephen pulled the door open, pausing just long enough to move his copy of the data to a hidden storage compartment under his desk.

  Stephen walked out of his bedroom door quickly. He now had to hustle down the network of tunnels, past the great hall where they were preparing for the ball, to the end where he would find the hangar’s exit door. Stephen inhaled deeply taking in the smell of the cakes and pies already baking. He wasn’t excited about the gala but they always had the best desserts.

  Stephen pushed against the door and as it released under his pressure the cold air hit his face. He hadn’t used the door since Stella left at the beginning of the week. There was no need to be cold if you didn’t have to be, even if you could handle it better than most.