The Cupel Recruits

by Willshire, Susan

“I’ll show you sometime, but right now please take this to the project team. Ruth and Saraceni will be interested to see it, I think,” the teen ordered the hulking man.

  “Yes, sir,” Wood responded reflexively, more to the tone than the individual.

  “You need data from The Cupel?” Jack asked, “Why don’t you just pull it yourselves?”

  “We can’t access everything we need directly, or impact everything we need directly. That’s why we have Kajika and future recruits with assignments there-to get to what we can’t,” Kyle responded.

  The camp team stepped one at a time gingerly out of the cavern into the open area near the river’s edge by the cliff’s face.

  “You’re clear to come out here, but we need to hug the cliff face for a while and not spread out any farther,” Kye relayed Brett’s instructions to the others. They were relieved to be outside and able to walk around after being huddled inside the cavern for so many hours. The guide sat next to Lela as she assembled the radio equipment, now that they would be able to get a clear satellite line of sight.

  “I am thinking the rebels will not stop. They do not like the corporate invasion into their lands,” he reported.

  “Don’t they realize we are bringing critical medicines, cleaner water into the interior, and education?” she asked.

  “Perhaps the price is too high,” he mused, “They will not give up.” Lela reflected somberly, recalling her dream. She just wanted to help these people, not cause a civil war between those who agreed with the assistance and those who didn’t.

  “Those companies do not care about these people.” He was stern. Lela sighed heavily, nodding. She turned to grab an antenna and when she turned back, he was gone. She completed the radio setup and set it aside so it would be ready when the reconnaissance team returned with information to relay to the main security base back in town. Next she turned to her waterproof hardbook computer and was thrilled to see she had two bars of satellite network available, enough to send some email. First, she typed a short paragraph to Pfister back in the states:

  Have fled base camp with all camp team members except those remotely stationed. Rebel activity all around. Dangerous. All present here are safe now. Status of remote team members unknown, but security detail is gathering more information. Brett Davies advises we will likely take a boat out of here. Portable equipment with us. Some mineral samples and all project data are with us. All else is left behind at camp. Will call you when we are in the clear -Lela

  Lela noticed her incoming mail. Three messages down was JMatthews. ‘James!’ she thought. Somehow, no matter how long it had been since they had spoken, he always knew when she really needed him. The message was not what she expected, though. He seemed to be having a hard time himself, something that he didn’t often share, so she knew it must be troubling indeed for him to admit even a shred of it. James closed the email with, “I miss you and I want to talk to you. When will you be back in the States?” Her heart tugged in a way it only did for James and she realized how much she missed him as well. She knew she couldn’t admit her own circumstances-that she wasn’t sure when she’d be back in the States or if they’d even get out of this mess, though she was more optimistic than earlier, or in fact than she had been since her family had died. She couldn’t worry him when he was already under such heavy stress, though she did not know the details. Lela decided to merely relay that she would find out the schedule as soon as possible and tell him, and that she missed him too. She flipped the keyboard shut with a sense of relief. She wanted to see him. If only their lives could ever be in the same place at the same time.

  Brett returned.

  “We’re getting out of here. The boats will be here shortly,” he clipped, out of breath from the run back from the scouting. He turned to Kye, “Call in all our men in the area. We’re escorting them to the city and the rest will return to home base.”

  “I set up the radio,” Lela reported.

  “Thanks,” he replied, “but I used an alternate one.” In four hours time, the boats arrived and the camp members boarded. Lela hesitated.

  “We left a lot back at camp. Do you think there’s any chance we can retrieve it?” she asked Brett.

  “No,” he said, taking her arm gently and guiding her toward the boat, “The risk is too high.” The boats cruised along the river and Lela was surprised at how choppy the ride was. The river looked more placid from the bank than it actually was, and after some time passed they entered some gentle rapids. The bottom of the boat could be heard scraping over rocks as they navigated some of the more narrow passages between rock formations.

  “Everybody hold on tight!” the captain yelled, ‘We’re about to head into the roughest part, and you don’t want to fall in or those hippos by the banks will be very interested in meeting you!” He pointed toward the bank where several hippopotamus sat in the water, just the tips of their heads and nostrils peering out. If they’d not been pointed out, Lela wasn’t even sure she would have seen them. Everyone grabbed a tight hold on the center line rope woven through some metal eyes on the boats decks. Brett and the other soldiers wrapped the rope around their left forearm three times, and continued to brandish their rifles in their right hand, constantly scanning the area for any signs of rebel threat.

  The boat hit the rapids and bounced at least four feet in the air. Lela felt her body leave the deck by about a foot for an instant and then descend, not exactly slamming into the deck, but not a gentle replacement either. She spread her feet to the left and right slightly, distributing her weight and pressing the side of her right foot against the inner wall of the boat.

  “Do this!” she yelled to the line of people to her left and pointed at her feet. Those on the left side of the boat secured their weight in similar fashion and pressed their left feet against the boat’s inner wall, and then all those present pressed against each other shoulder to shoulder toward the center of the boat. None too soon, because the boat hit a hard rock edge and bounced very high, and the camp team inside the boat bounced 3-4 feet in the air. Two near the outer edges almost bounced out, but their feet caught on the top lip of the inner wall, and those nearest to them grabbed their inner arms and pulled them back to the deck. This continued for 5 minutes or so, and then the boats entered more placid water. Everyone was soaked, and the water was colder than expected, but otherwise fine. They relaxed.

  “Any more like that expected, Captain?” Brett yelled, not wanting them to relax too much if the respite was merely a temporary one.

  “There are more in the waters far east of town, but we’ll be docking before we hit the next set of large rapids. There may still be a bit of chop, so stay secured, but it shouldn’t be too uncomfortable. The boat bobbed up and down repetitively, almost a perfect cadence in a dance with the surrounding wildlife. One of the scientists became seasick and stood up, racing to the edge to vomit overboard.

  “Get away from there! Vomit in the pail!” a crewman yelled, but it was too late. The boat hit a smaller bump which otherwise would have been uneventful, but with the man leaning far over the edge, the slight pitch sent him overboard. He was in the water and they were 200 meters past him before they could even cut the engine. The man was being swept in the opposite direction by the downstream current quickly, and they lost sight of him briefly before his head popped up and he instinctively grabbed a nearby branch, flailing for a grasp at anything. The second boat, nearly hitting into the back of the first, managed to steer to the side enough for the first boat to move in reverse to the left of it, but there was insufficient room to actually turn the entire boat around due to the narrow width of the river where they were in comparison to the boat’s length. They moved in reverse steadily, but the man was at least 400 meters away. Brian noticed the hippos open their mouths wide and tapped his sister. Rachel grabbed Kye’s vest and pointed. The entire boat watched as two of the hippos then turned around toward the man in the water. It was a race between the boat and the hippos and from the presen
t speeds of both, it appeared the boat would lose by a narrow margin. Brian jumped up abruptly.

  “How long is this rope?” he shouted to the crewman.

  “One hundred meters,” the crewman responded.

  “Count to twenty and then start reeling me in.” he told his sister and Kye, and jumped off the right side of the boat, closest to the shore and the hippos. He swam toward them and started waving his arms and making noise as the boat moved lateral to him to reach the man in the water. The hippos, realizing he was slightly closer due to the angle of approach, turned instead toward Brian.

  “Brian!” Rachel yelled. ‘Pull him back! Pull him back!” she yelled to Kye. It hadn’t been the full twenty seconds, but Kye and Mako, the closest to the rope, began pulling it as quickly as they could toward them. Others joined in and soon Brian was flying toward the boat, the hippos now fast on his heels. Simultaneously, the boat reached the downed scientist and several others pulled him in at the back of the boat as the central crew pulled Brian in at the side. The first hippo snapped into the air and let out a rumbling, guttural sound.

  “That was stupid, you moron!” Brian’s sister yelled at him. He put his arm around her shoulder, seeing that she was shaking.

  “Sorry, Rach, but it just came to me in a flash. All that swimming training, I guess,” he said. She was still mad and shoved his arm off her.

  “Outswimming hippos? Moron. More-onnnn!” she said forcefully, and then hugged him. For the remainder of the trip, no one spoke, and no one went near the sides of the boat. In another hour they docked smoothly and deboarded. Once in town, Lela reached Pfister by phone and was told the entire project was put on hold until they could be sure the area had stabilized and no threat existed from the rebels.

  “That’ll be a while,” Brett confirmed when he heard the news.

  “I know,” Lela said. “Our flight is back in the morning. I can’t wait to get a shower and some food.” Brett looked at her long frame, caked in dirt and mud, the dirt on her face making her green eyes stand out even more brilliantly than normal. She pulled her hair off of her neck.

  “Want some company?” Brett asked, and the implication was that for either the shower, the food, or both would be acceptable. Lela, who might have accepted just a few days earlier, now felt a renewed feeling of loyalty to James.

  “Brett, I’d love to, but I’m just really tired. Long day, ya know?” she said. He looked slightly dejected for about half a second before resuming a stoic front.

  “Of course. Yeah, long day. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he mumbled and then disappeared quickly. She felt bad for a moment. Lela liked Brett. Very much, but if there was any chance that she and James could finally be together, to get on the same page at the same time, she wanted nothing more. She hoped she wouldn’t regret the rebuff later. It wasn’t everyday a guy like Brett Davies came along, either.

  Lela’s shower at the hotel was far from luxurious. The spigots had to be cajoled into balancing just right to keep a moderate blend of the cold and hot water flowing well enough to neither scald nor freeze her. The space was so tight, she banged her elbows repeatedly while shampooing her long hair twice to get all the river water out, and she had to use a local organic paste as there was no real shampoo or conditioner available, but as far as Lela was concerned, she felt as if she were in a 5 star hotel, surrounded in luxury.

  She sat on her bed in some dry clothes she had gotten from Tina, who had thought to wrap her extra clothes in her pack in plastic. Lela used her only plastic bag to wrap her passport and documents tightly. Her wet hair dried quickly in the hot air that streamed in the open screened window and she ate a sandwich. She thought of Gabriel, all they’d been through in the last few days, her dream, the mineral test results, her parents and the decision of what to do about the Africa project. Without reaching any conclusions at all, she closed the window sleepily, turned off the light, drew the mosquito netting over her bed, and instantly fell asleep.

  Chapter 22

  Wood slept also, in the chair in George’s room. He had fallen asleep monitoring George as instructed by Ruth and now had his lengthy body maneuvered sort of diagonally in the chair, his arms tucked tightly across his chest and his head rolling to one side. One foot was on the floor while one stood propped up on the bed. In the hallway, the screen, with no one watching at the time, silently rolled up one percent to read 94%. The alarm sounded yet again, filling all buildings with the screaming sirens they had dodged only a week ago.

  Wood’s body straightened reflexively and he twisted in the chair, catching his foot into the edge of the bed frame as he attempted to rise. The result was a dramatic bellyflop on the cold, hard floor, his foot still hung upward behind him as he lay face down. For a moment, the wind was knocked out of him, but the continued alarm jostled him back to reality. Withdrawing his foot carefully, and with a slight groan as he pressed his weight off the ground, he rose to see George awake in the bed before him.

  “You’re up!” Wood exclaimed over the alarm.

  “So’re you,” George replied. Rubbing his head, he added, “Can’t they turn that off?” As if on command, the alarm ceased

  “They reset it.” Wood stepped closer, “How do you feel?”George looked a little weak and displayed the faintest hint of disorientation, but answered.

  “I’m okay, I think,” he said. Wood strode purposefully to the wall unit and pressed the indicator for Ruth. He was sure she was busy with the alarm, but George’s awakening was a huge plus for the mission.

  “What percent are we up to?” George asked.

  “94%,” Wood answered.

  “Hell,” George said quietly, still holding his head.

  Kyle held his head also, back in the training room.

  “You still seem off,” Saraceni said to him.

  Kyle, knowing this was true, also knew he couldn’t afford to be pulled to go through medical screening. They were already down a person.

  “I’m fine,” he lied.

  “Why does that alarm keep going off?” Chandra asked

  “It can’t be shut down above a certain threshold. It’s a failsafe so no one may shut it down and then allow progression to go unnoticed,” Saraceni responded.

  “But what’s its purpose?” Enam asked.

  “It’s warning of our state of decoherence. We’re at 94% and if we don’t prevent it, it will be 100% in about a week, give or take.”

  “Decoherence, as in tied particles disentangling like we discussed in training?” Juliet jumped in.

  “Yes.”

  “And if this decoherence thing gets to 100%, then what?” Jack asked. Saraceni paused and Gabriel had a sinking feeling and reflexively took two steps backward, looking at his father. Alexander knew as well and sat swiftly, pressing his palms against his thighs. Jack cocked an eyebrow at the reactions of the others.

  “What?” he said louder.

  “It’s all destroyed,” Gabriel said quietly

  “What-The Cupel? How can the whole thing be destroyed? What about my family, all the people?” Jack registered the gravity of the situation.

  “Well,” Chandra began, vehement and forceful, “y’all are just gonna have to bring them here. Perfect society or not, you got them into this now you’re gonna get them -” Gabriel cut her off-

  “Not The Cupel, Chandra. Everything. Here, there, everywhere-all decimated.” Juliet turned a quick heel toward Saraceni

  “How on Earth could you let this happen? You, Ruth, the others, look what you’ve done.”

  “We didn’t do it all,” Saraceni relayed. “A certain amount of decoherence is expected. The cost of doing business, so to speak, but as soon as Valswak saw the process had begun, he began aggravating it, assigning Dark Janae to hit critical juncture points so it would unravel all that faster. Not even our own project teams know this. They think it’s happening at a steady rate, a fully natural process.”

  “Then why are you telling us?” David Running Wolf asked, “You must think w
e can help or we wouldn’t be here.” It dawned on Molior that though they were specifically recruited, they hadn’t since their arrival thought that there might be a reason why, other than to come here and be a member of this “advanced” society. Now they could see there had been signs along the way that their role was somehow bigger. They were cordoned off from even the rest of the recruits, all flooding over the hills that day, allowed to interact, all in different colored uniforms, none matching their own.

  “You were recruited now,” Saraceni pulled up the screen as he spoke, “because you have a mission. We think you, and you alone, can open a gate to the next circle, relieving the pressure on the current system and providing us time to solve the problem of decoherence.”

  “The circles that we move through-the ones that keep escalating?” Jane queried.

  “Yes, as Ruth explained, after a full interval, a new gate opens and we ascend as all the gates below remain open as a ladder to that top circle,” Saraceni explained.

  “If the gates open on their own, why do we have to open it?” Enam asked.

  “Because we passed the data saturation point where a new gate should have opened, and it didn’t,” Saraceni continued, “so information is being gathered by those in The Cupel, and those here, to contribute to the Overall Purpose. Some of those particles, each element of matter holding some amount of data, are entangled with one another and some are not, but they are approaching the point of every particle being full.”

  “And when that happens, there’s nowhere else for the data to go, so it starts acting completely as a free agent, decoupling links, decohering the very ties that preserve the boundaries. Think of collective dephasing. Observation equals decoherence, and because every particle is 100% full of data, all count as being observed, so when some room is freed up, the extra decoherence ceases.” At that moment Wood burst into the room.

  “George is awake! He’s awake!” Wood shouted. The others cheered and clapped lightly, happy for the good news.