by A. Bernette
She needed to calm down and just focus on herself, which is exactly what she was going to do once they got to the twenty-seventh floor. When the elevator doors opened she practically ran out and down the hall. She held her hand up to the pad and let herself in, not caring that the door closed behind her. They wouldn’t be seeing her again that night. She was over it - over them.
Zura looked at Johan and Mave and shook her head. Stella had every reason to be upset. She knew that Stella knew and she’d just have to deal with that in the morning.
They’d gotten themselves into this situation and Zura had to accept that this moment was years in the making. Every decision and choice. Every time she said yes to them – UniCorps and the World Consensus, when she should have said no. Every time they’d decided to move forward on the entire ARC program, they were building to this, and now it happened that their sins would be visited on their children. Their children would once again have to pay for their choices and it might not end with just a poorly planned birthday party.
Zura needed a drink. A glass of red wine while sitting in her favorite cozy chair in their bedroom sounded nice right now. She felt guilty and although Johan hadn’t said much, he probably felt even more guilt. The only bit of solace was in knowing that what they were doing would help their children and many more.
Johan and Stephen dropped the luggage in the middle of the living room floor, and Mave came in and sat on the sofa. Over the years, she’d stayed many nights at their home. She’d make her way to the guest bedroom soon enough, but first, she needed to talk to Johan and Zura.
She knew Zura well enough to know she’d be back out soon, in cozy bedtime clothes, to get her welcome home drink. Stella wasn’t coming back out of her room and Stephen was still dragging from multiple days on too little sleep. Mave was sure she wouldn’t hear from either of them that night. She’d talk to them when she could get them both together and when they were rested and preferably, in better moods.
“What are you going to do Mave? Turn in for the night? It’s been a long day,” Johan asked, as he got ready to walk back to the bedroom and change too.
“I need to talk to you and Zura, Johan,” she said seriously. “When you get changed can you both come out here? We can all share a much deserved glass of wine,” she added.
Minutes later, the three sat around the living room on the soft sofa and chairs Zura had picked out a few years before. When the twins turned thirteen, she thought it was safe to replace the furniture they’d destroyed as children. Wine glasses on the table were already nearly drained and a bottle of Cabernet sat in a wine holder on the counter.
“I need to talk about what is supposed to happen here, Johan and Zura,” she said and gave both of them a look to make sure they knew what this was about.
“The twins will be sixteen and that’s already a big deal, but they are also supposed to have their ceremony. We’ve talked about doing it soon, but we hadn’t said how soon. In light of everything else going on we need to make sure it happens before their birthday - it can’t wait. If we wait, we may be back on the ARC and we can’t miss it if we are going to make good on the other mission. There are a lot of people depending on us.”
“If I’d known we were going to be so pushed for time this year, I would have tried to do it sometime last year, any time, for that matter. That’s neither here nor there – it’s done. We are all sacrificing so much with the ARC but we cannot sacrifice these two kids. They are critical to the mission being successful. Besides that, I love them,” she paused again looking Zura in the eyes and then Johan.
Mave could make you feel like you were under a microscope at times. For this mission, she was the leader of their small group. They hadn’t had time to discuss it before leaving the ARC with all of the extra commotion.
Mave waited a moment and then she continued in a firm and deliberate tone. “The twins and the others need to have their Awakening Ceremony within the week leading up to the their sixteenth birthday. It’s the only way to do it before we are gone. There are things that will be happening here and in other places while we are stuck in Antarctica and those things have a better chance of being successful if they have their Awakening Ceremony.”
“Yes, I understand,” Zura said in a tired voice with the hint of just a little too much wine.
“Do you remember the two girls I told you about in Southern Liberty? Then there is the other girl and boy, both with connections in Southern Allegiance? And then there is Ren, who we will bring in. You remember Ren?
“Yeah, of course. His mom is Kim. They used to come around but stopped a few years ago. I think he had some adverse reaction to the serum. He was the first Dr. Lima injected,” Johan said, nodding as he remembered Ren.
“That’s him. He’s been through a lot but we need him. He’s in New South City already for his regular treatments and will be participating with Stephen and Stella. They all need to do the same thing and soon so our timeline doesn’t get blown to hell. With the new demands from UniCorps we don’t have time to waste, we have to move things forward.” Mave took a deep breath. There was still more. Zura saw her about to speak again and jumped in.
“Wait, Mave. This is a lot and very fast. I know we agreed to this concept but please slow down just a little. It’s been a very long day,” Zura said.
“Okay. I get it, Zura. You’re tired. We’re all tired, but bear with me. The Awakening Ceremony needs to happen on the night of the ninth. It is the first day of the full moon, one of the most ideal times. We’ll be gone by the solstice so that is not an option The other Keepers are making arrangements with the help of the Council for all of this to line up. We’ve had to work really hard to pull this off and to coordinate everything. Screwing up the planning of the most important birthday party for your kids cannot be what unravels the entire plan,” Mave chastised them and then stopped for a moment to let it all sink in.
“Their party is after the ceremony but we need to make this party special and having their friends here and Ren will make it seem like you have worked hard planning this. They haven’t seen Ren in years and he’ll be here for the Awakening so they might as well get reacquainted by having him at the party. With that said, tomorrow you must figure out a way to be here for their birthday. Piss off that dictator Mylar. Don’t miss this moment in their lives. You won’t get over it and neither will they,” Mave warned them. “I know this and I don’t even have kids.”
Mave could see the exhaustion in their bodies and in their eyes, but that didn’t matter. She had to say what she needed to say just as they needed to do what they needed to do.
“Johan, have you sent for the Awakening Ceremony materials? Please tell me you have,” Mave asked, looking less than optimistic.
“I’m sorry, Mave. We have been so busy, buried with work, and-,” Johan tried to finish when Mave cut him off.
“Never mind. I’ll send the order off for them but you will need to pick them up. You’ll also need to work on the entertainment first thing tomorrow. Zura, you make sure their friends are coming and that we have a place and a theme for this party. They want separate cakes so Johan, you take Stephen out to pick his and Zura, you take Stella out. It’ll give you two some time to make this right.”
“Are you really sure about all of this, Mave? So much is happening right now,” Zura asked as she rubbed her temples. They were still her babies.
“If you still want this mission to work, it has to happen and we don’t have much time. Besides, this is more than the Awakening Ceremony. They are turning sixteen. They’ll be para-adults and that by itself is momentous.”
Johan took a deep breath in. He couldn’t help but feel the same reservations that Zura did, but he knew they had to make their own marks. They couldn’t protect them from their future.
“I’ll pull together a plan for those specimens on the ARC. Mylar is concerned about their age suddenly, so there must be a reason we don’t know about,” Johan said trying to get his head around what l
ay ahead.
“The Council is concerned about this new timeline crunch as well. It puts pressure on our plan. The Council needs to be assured that whatever happens, we’ll be ready to handle it,” Mave said and then stood up.
Zura and Johan both looked at Mave, their eyes glossing over. Mave downed her last couple of ounces of red wine and put the glass on the counter in the kitchen. “Good night. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Rationed
The Capital City, Northern Liberty
Preston Rochester Davenport, II didn’t want another meeting with one of the founding partners, Sontamon Foods. He already knew what they were going to say.
However, they were one of the original organizations and their President had one of the purest bloodlines aside from Preston.
“Preston speaking,” he finally answered before missing the call.
“Preston? Grapper Bellarde from Sontamon Foods.”
“Hello Grapper. How are you today?”
“I’ll be honest, Preston. I’d be doing much better if my distribution channels weren’t from here to the ends of the earth. I’ve been telling you, we can’t move food that far affordably. Then there is the issue of safety. Those damn homeless are robbing our transports. Compounding the logistics issue and outright thievery, is the fact that people aren’t moving themselves fast enough. Do you hear what I’m saying?
“Of course, I hear you Grapper. We’re already using trained SEP Agents to handle the transports. I really do understand the issue beyond that and I do hear you,” he said sitting down, one hand on his head.
“It’s a basic supply and demand problem, Preston. Basic economics. We have the food, nearer to the cities yet the people are spread out. We can’t continue to try to feed twenty billion people like we are, especially when we have less land that can grow food and each year the crops are worse. We have more people needing the food and each year more babies are born. I don’t need to spell it out any more for you. We need to get the World Consensus to agree to our population plans.”
“Like I said, I hear your problem Grapper but relocating that many people is a nightmare. It would bankrupt the World Consensus and probably us too. I understand it’s a logistical problem, but unless there are fewer people to move, it’s not going to be feasible.”
“Well, hell. How long is that gonna take? Our grandparents didn’t take care of it, not like they should have when they had a chance and now here we are. Preston, I think we need to push a lot harder on this. We’ve been sending fewer rations to the outlying areas hoping people would eventually move. Those people are barely budging. What do you think about us reducing it to the bare minimum? To the point that they realize that unless they move, they’ll starve.
Preston listened to Grapper with veiled impatience. Sontamon Foods wasn’t the only one calling with the issue. All of his major corporate partners were arguing for more central distribution. On more than one occasion, he’d looked at the option with the Population and Relocation Management Division. The timeline was at least ten years to have the housing supply to handle them, let alone the general logistics of moving billions of people, wasn’t going to help any plan they had now.
“Grapper, let’s table this conversation again. You know the long plan. This isn’t it. Just be patient and your stockholders’s demands won’t even matter anymore.
“Preston, I’m tired of tabling it. Our partners want action. I want action, Preston! Are you willing to do what’s best for your people?”
“Don’t I always look out for us, Grapper?”
Preston hung up with Grapper, and called Mirkal ‘The Stache’ Dempstead
“Dempstead? You let those closings get pushed through and now production is down. I need you to make sure something else gets through. Consider it a way for you to make it up to us, since you’ve let us get into a bad situation.”
Preston could hear movement in the background and then the sound of a door opening and closing.
“What do you need, Mr. Davenport?” The Stache finally responded. He never talked business in front of his mother. No matter who it might be.
“I need you to get your friend Magiro to back down about getting information out. I don’t want people moving. I don’t want people leaving their homes.”
“People are moving already, sir. People are starting to move because of the earthquakes and because of the issues with food. They are moving to the areas with higher populations. That’s what you and your partners want, right? Better for logistics and management?”
“Yes, that’s right. We don’t want those in the cities to leave because of the perceived threat of earthquakes, understand? That becomes counter-productive to our plan, Mirkal,” Preston said, his voice tired.
“I understand,” Mirkal responded.
Preston ended the call abruptly before he began coughing violently into his handkerchief.
“Is everything alright, sir?” a well-dressed woman with her hair in a neat bun asked, as she entered Preston’s lavish office. She carried with her a small gold-plated tray with a matching tea set made of white porcelain with golden inlays. On the side of the saucer were a tea bag and two lemon wedges. A small spoon rested on a white napkin. She set the tray down beside Preston as she poured hot water from the side table.
Preston’s coughing spell ended and he looked at the woman, his eyes teary and cheeks red. “Please close the door.” He couldn’t allow his regular staff to see him like this. “I will be fine, Mel. Did Mylar’s report from his ARC visit come in yet? Are we going to be able to move forward with the shorter timeline?”
Mel sat down and put the tea bag inside his cup before pouring the hot water over it. “The report did come in. It seems there are several on the ARC who don’t view your decision to not report the findings, favorably. However, Mylar has reported that the core staff and leadership will be returning after a four week break, which they’ve already begun. He cannot promise that with the specimen they have and even with the new ones they are gathering that one year will be enough. I’m sorry,” she said whispering. She touched his hand and squeezed it before kissing his forehead.
“Will you still be going home for the World Memorial Holiday?” he asked her.
He hated when she left. It was all the way to the far eastern side of Northern Liberty, and whenever she was gone he missed her. He could never marry her but she’d been by his side for fifteen years.
Now she was in the unenviable position of watching him slowly deteriorate and there was no medicine to stop it. They had managed to slow down the degenerative blood disease, but stopping it would take a miracle of science.
“I will. Just remember, I’m only a flight away. If you need anything, Preston, I’m here for you. Before I forget, Rochester called. He wants to know if you will be home this evening for dinner?” Mel asked already prepared for his response.
Preston looked at his watch. It was 6:45 and he still had calls to return from the leaders over several of the other key members of UniCorps. For the most part, he knew what they were calling about but the conversations wouldn’t be easy, or brief.
“I’m sorry. Please let him know that I will have to miss dinner. Tell him I’m sorry again and that,” Preston’s voice trailed off. He didn’t want to make any more promises to anyone that he might not be able to keep. “And tell him, I’ll call him this evening if I don’t make it in before eleven or so. Thanks Mel.”
Mel nodded. She kissed him once more on his cheek this time, now that the flushing and wetness were gone. Sixteen years. A tear, barely visible, crept from the inside of her eye but was nearly gone by the time it reached her cheek. She wasn’t born of the right blood and if Preston accidentally sired a child with her and it became public, it would compromise his legacy, Rochester’s legacy, and both of their positions.
She walked out of the office and called Rochester to give him Preston’s message. She could hear the disappointment in Rochester’s voic
e, like so many times before. It was not as pronounced as it had been when he was a child, but it was still there, she could tell.
Tonight she couldn’t spend time trying to comfort him or reassure him of anything. Not that he needed it anymore. He’d stopped asking questions years before but she always felt guilty, being the one to deliver the bad news each time. Tonight she couldn’t worry about that, she had a flight to catch.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Familiar
In the Skies Heading to Southern AllegianceSantoria, Southern Allegiance
Rupert looked out the window at the clouds that gathered beneath. Puffy and white with just the slightest hint of silver; they gave an illusion of pillow-like softness but in reality they were just wisps of moisture that would never catch you should you fall. But we all fall, sometimes, he thought. He was surrounded by men and women he’d worked with for years, some of them for the entire time he’d been on the ARC.
Rupert’s mind drifted as he reclined his seat and stretched his right leg into the aisle. She hadn’t said anything. He’d told her how much he loved her and she’d said nothing back. He had hoped that she would say something.
Just once, she could have given him hope. He sighed. Rupert knew Mave. She had her priorities and had always made that clear, leaving no room for any uncertainty about what she needed to do and how nothing would get in her way. He still loved her and he’d wait for her. He’d wait his whole life for her if it came to that.
He rubbed just below his right knee. His leg was beginning to ache now but he couldn’t risk removing the source of the pain. The SEP Agent would check all ARC passengers one more time before clearing them to leave. No one in the crew working the flight was familiar to him. He’d hoped one of the pilots he trusted would be on this flight because what he had was too sensitive to entrust to someone new. He would have to bear it for at least six more hours as they made the remaining four local stops before his.