Hope Everlasting: A Dystopian Sci-fi Novel (The Variant Saga Book 3) Page 7

  Indeed, the noise had grown slightly, and soon enough John could even feel the rumbling in his chest and legs. The ground carried the sound, vibrating ever so gently.

  It seemed to come from the mountains beyond the clouds, as far as he could tell, so that was where he watched and waited, listening and focusing.

  A sudden flash of light glimmered through the elevated fog, giving him pause. He waited, but there was nothing. Light from the suns, perhaps, reflecting off the clouds and snowy peaks.

  But then he saw it, a great, silver bird sweeping through the white foam, parting the clouds like mist on the sea. A monstrous thing the size of a small building. An animal with—

  No, he realized, looking with his hybrid eyes. It was a machine. A vehicle or drone.

  It flew from the peaks, trailing clouds behind it, closing in toward the valley. A growing hum rose steadily as the craft drew nearer. John pushed himself to his feet, gawking at the soaring metal craft.

  It flew overhead, filling the valley with the sound of thunder, heading off toward the camp site. John and Mei looked at each other, and without a word they started running. With a finger on his ear, John activated his com. “Brooks!” he yelled. “Brooks, come in!”

  But there was only silence.

  CHAPTER 6

  Ortego Outpost File Logs

  Play Audio File 872

  Recorded: February 11, 2351

  MITCHELL:This is Sophia Mitchell. How can I help you?

  HARPER: Hello, Sophia. This is Doctor Breslin Harper calling from Central. Is Curie around?

  MITCHELL: Not at the moment, I’m afraid. Is there something I can do for you?

  HARPER: That’s too bad. I wanted to let her know my office has been authorized to handle your team’s reports, at least in the near future until a better arrangement can be made.

  MITCHELL: This is excellent news. I’ll be certain to let her know when she returns.

  HARPER: Can I ask where she’s gone?

  MITCHELL: She and two of our engineers have joined Sergeant Finn’s team on the other side of the gate. They are assisting in the repair of the communications system.

  HARPER: I see. Well, in the meantime, would you be able to send me your files so my staff can begin their review?

  MITCHELL: Certainly, ma’am. I can have those to you right away. Once Doctor Curie returns, I’ll begin forwarding all future reports directly to you.

  HARPER: Thank you, Sophia. If you need anything from me, you can contact me at this number. It’s my direct line.

  MITCHELL: That’s very generous of you, ma’am. We definitely appreciate it. May I ask why you are requesting the backlog of reports? I could probably draft another document focusing on the highlights.

  HARPER: I’d love any help you can give, but I still want to read through everything myself. As the board’s liaison, I’ll need to relay all of this information as effectively as possible to the board, which includes answering any questions they might have. I’ve got exactly eighteen days before the next meeting, which doesn’t leave much time.

  MITCHELL: You’re presenting our findings?

  HARPER: I suppose you could say that, yes. Your mission is still ongoing, so I’ll only be summarizing the events up to now, bringing the other board members up to date. They like to pretend they’re informed, you see, while accomplishing very little.

  MITCHELL: Is that typical for the Science Division’s board of directors?

  HARPER: It’s typical for politics in general, Miss Mitchell. Take it from someone who knows.

  End Audio File

  Quarantine Zone

  February 11, 2351

  Lena Sol waited aboard the Red Door with quiet reservations. Despite having absolutely no experience in the field to speak of, she now found herself in an environmental suit on her way to investigate a series of energy discharges somewhere in the quarantine zone. After seven years of active service as an analyst, now level-5, she had spent most of her time behind a desk. Her days were filled sifting through reports, filing data entries, and writing daily summaries for her supervisors.

  In other words, not the most ideal candidate to be out in the field, especially when it came to investigating an energy spike from a two-hundred-year-old trans-dimensional wormhole experiment. What did she know about this sort of thing, other than what she’d read in a file? She wasn’t qualified for this, was she? What could Master Gel be thinking?

  Yet here she sat, waiting to arrive at a place that didn’t appear on any modern maps. A location she’d only found because of an error in the Rosenthal satellite’s systems—an oversight on the part of the designer. If only she’d never discovered it on her own, she’d still be sitting at her desk, going over the day’s reports.

  But she was here, nonetheless, and she shouldn’t question it. Good citizens did what they were told, because it was the only way to keep everyone safe. It was how Everlasting had survived for so long, despite the inherent dangers beyond the outer shield—savage beasts, uncivilized and bloodthirsty natives, and of course the deadly atmosphere itself. The people had the Leadership to thank for its survival. They were the ones who kept them safe.

  “How much longer before we arrive?” asked one of the scientists sitting nearby. Lena recalled the biographical summaries she’d previously memorized. This one was Emile Res, twenty-seven years old, level-6 physicist with some training in biology. Her previous work had involved matter displacement, yielding promising results, but nothing concrete as of yet. A real up-and-comer.

  “A few more cycles,” announced the pilot. “Shouldn’t be long.”

  “The faster the better,” said Emile, slightly annoyed.

  Lena Sol said nothing. The ship could take its time getting to its final destination for all she cared. She had never longed for field work, not in all her days in Analytics. Damn you, Gel, she thought, but then stopped herself, casting the negative thought from her mind. Better not to think such things. Better to stay positive.

  No matter how miserable she might be, no matter how poorly suited she was for this position, she had been placed here by her superiors to fulfill a purpose. Her personal feelings were unimportant, she reminded herself.

  All was for the good of Everlasting.

  “You, there,” said Emile, staring at her. “Analyst Sol.”

  Lena blinked, glancing at the woman. “Pardon?”

  “You’re the analyst, correct?”

  She nodded. “Yes. Lena Sol, level-five. I was chosen by—”

  “Save the biography. Is this your first time in the field? I can’t imagine you’re used to this sort of thing.”

  “It is,” said Lena.

  “This is my fourth, personally, but I’ve never worked with someone from your division before. It’s rather uncommon for an analyst to be out here, isn’t it?”

  It was a fair question, especially from someone like Emile Res who had worked largely in the Northern Islands, far from the city. She’d been stationed at the Love and Grace Laboratories for several years, working on classified research involving biological artifacts. That portion of the hemisphere was outside of Lena’s jurisdiction, so she’d probably never know the details.

  “Analysts don’t usually participate,” said one of the others. A man named Titus Ven, forty-seven years old, archeologist level-12. He was pudgy, with thick red hair and unshaven cheeks. “She’s here because of the nature of our mission.”

  “Which part?” asked Emile.

  “Hardly anyone goes into the quarantine zone, so having an analyst makes it easier to navigate. If the ship goes down and our equipment fails, her job will be getting us home. There’s also the added benefit of having someone who can speak the local languages.”

  Emile’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that’s right. I forgot about the linguistics training. Tell me, Analyst, how many languages can you speak?”

  Lena fidgeted in her seat. “I couldn’t say offhand.”

  “Come on, don’t be modest,” said Emile. “I�
��ve heard stories about how some of you can speak dozens of them, at least.”

  “That’s accurate, although it ranges, depending on the level of training and memory implant therapy. Master Analyst Gel, for example, can speak over three hundred different languages and seven hundred distinct dialects.”

  “Incredible,” said Emile, gawking a little. “But are there really so many languages in the world?”

  “Not quite,” she admitted. “Many of them haven’t been used in centuries, since Extinction Day.”

  “If no one speaks them, why do you learn?” asked Emile.

  “Most languages may sound different, but they actually share many common traits, including syntax, making them rather simple to decipher once you understand what to look for. As Everlasting has expanded its reach across the globe, we have continued to encounter various tribes, each of which speaks a different language or dialect. Some of these are new to us, but because of our translation technology, we can communicate with them much sooner than normal.”

  “I suppose if you’ve received the training and genetic enhancements, it probably comes natural, like any other job,” said Emile.

  Not quite, thought Lena, but she didn’t bother correcting her. It was true that many occupations required some level of enhancement, whether genetic or artificial. However, this was not the case for all of them. There were very few enhanced waste management personnel, for example, despite the essential nature of the service. In fact, much of Everlasting’s architecture relied on the work of several hundred unskilled laborers who never had the opportunity for enhancement. What Emile had actually meant was that Lena’s enhancements were similar in nature to other advanced occupations, such as those found in the various scientific, research, and mechanical fields. Everlasting mandated that such individuals receive mental enhancements and advanced training, ensuring peak efficiency and professional inclination toward one’s assigned occupation. Every analyst was an exceptional analyst, for example, and they all took great joy in being one.

  The Red Door shuddered. “Coming up on the destination,” said the pilot.

  “Finally,” said Emile, leaning forward. “I can’t wait to stretch my legs.”

  “Hold on. I’m detecting multiple bio-signatures in the area,” said the pilot.

  “Natives?” asked Titus.

  “Unconfirmed,” said the pilot.

  “Send the image to our screens. Let’s see them.”

  Lena activated her visor, and the image of the cabin quickly disappeared, replaced by the area outside. It was the landing zone, which she recognized from the Rosenthal scans, along with several unknown figures standing and running around. These individuals didn’t resemble any of the local tribes—none that were familiar, anyway. Their clothing suggested they were foreign, perhaps hailing from a faraway region. Had they come this way to trade with one of the nearby settlements? Where their ears should be pointed, they were instead round. Where their noses should be flat, they were rather large. How strange it was to find a people like this in such a well-charted area. On the same continent as Everlasting, no less. The city’s satellites had spent decades observing and mapping the various peoples of this landmass, so to find such a unique one here was very unusual. Were she not sitting aboard an aircraft presently, she might be inclined to run a database check and search for any populations with similar physical traits in order to determine their origin point. For now, she could only speculate.

  Lena knew of tribes in the distant north with extreme body modifications, some of which had presumably never been observed. Everlasting had very little success monitoring them, given how they chose to live—building cities into the sides of mountains, burrowing beneath the stone, rarely surfacing except for trading. The primary resource seemed to be precious stones and metals, which they offered to traveling merchants in exchange for other resources. The analysts often had debates about what these cave people must be like, sometimes coming up with outlandish theories on the nature of their isolation, but there was never any proof. The cave dwellers surfaced only once every few months, and only for a few hours, revealing little. Such was the case for many other civilizations around the globe, though the analysts were intent on closing the gap of knowledge as quickly as possible. The more they learned and understood about the various tribes, the safer and more secure the great city of Everlasting would become.

  Lena wondered if these people could be from such a region, somehow lost to the city’s scans. There were no harbors close by, but it would only take six or seven days to walk to the nearest coast. The Rosenthal satellite hadn’t detected anything out of the ordinary, last she checked, but she’d just spent the last nine days away from her post preparing for this mission. Perhaps her office knew all about them by now, but had neglected to include this information in the daily summaries they’d been sending her at the top of each day. No, Master Gel would never allow for such an oversight. If the information had escaped her, the fault must be her own. She’d have to go over the scans again when she had the time.

  The Red Door began to decelerate, though she could hardly feel it. The floor beneath Lena’s seat hummed, and a soft snap quickly followed, a sign the landing gear had been deployed. As the ship touched down, the natives outside began to scatter, disappearing behind the cliffs and into the woods. “Stay seated while we release the suppressor,” said one of the pilots.

  Lena felt her stomach turn. She hated the thought of the nerve suppressor, otherwise known as compound AX-12009-B3. It was a fast-acting toxin used to paralyze most organisms within two hundred meters. Once activated, the affected fauna remained in a state of paralysis, fully awake but unable to move. The toxin was extremely effective in any situation requiring the use of non-deadly force.

  It was initially conceived as an aid for long-term biological stasis, back before the technique had been perfected. Unfortunately, since the subject remained awake after coming into contact with the toxin, the compound was discarded and believed to be a failure. It wasn’t until several decades later that the Leadership decided to repurpose it, this time as a weapon.

  Everlasting was part of a larger country in those days, long before the gas settled and transformed the landscape, killing or mutating billions. As time went on, and the world fell apart, the toxin was repurposed once again to deal with civil unrest and crowd management. In an age when riots happened on a daily basis, hundreds could be paralyzed in moments, all without risking any essential lives. It was the most effective means of crowd management the government had at its disposal, and many believed its implementation signaled the dawn of the modern age of peace in the city.

  Right now, AX-12009-B3 was being used against these unknown natives. If the ship located any more beyond the dispersal zone, the pilot would release a small drone to deliver the toxin remotely. He would do this as many times as it took in order to secure the area.

  Lena sat in her suit, staring at the display on her wrist, watching as over a dozen natives collapsed onto the ground. Several twitched as they fell into the dirt, flailing wildly before settling into a frozen state of immobility.

  She already wanted to leave.

  ******

  The hatch to the Red Door opened, and out walked Lena Sol, safe inside her environmental suit. With the local population incapacitated, she had little cause to fear her surroundings.

  The bodies littered the ground like ornaments, as if placed by some unseen hand. They must think I’m a demon, she thought. Some superstitious nightmare, sent to them from fairy tales and old religions.

  But Lena didn’t like the idea of being someone’s monster. She only wanted to go home, sit in her little pod and proceed with her work, analyzing images and filtering data.

  “Look at this,” called Emile, pointing to one of the bodies. “They appear to have weapons. It’s some kind of rifle.”

  “How do you know?” asked the pilot.

  “Barrel. Trigger. What else could it be? And look at their padded uniforms.”
>
  “So what?” the pilot said. “Plenty of natives have armor and weapons.”

  Emile crouched beside the frozen body. “That’s true, but I’ve never seen any like this. There’s also the patchwork on the clothing. Look at the lettering. It’s more advanced than what you’d normally see.”

  Titus disembarked from the ship a moment later, stopping at Emile’s side and taking note of her findings. “Take some screens. Bag one of the weapons. As much as I’d like to examine them further, we’re here for more important things.”

  “Of course,” Emile responded. She raised her wrist above the body and snapped several pictures. “I can analyze these later when we’re back in the city.”

  “Analyst Sol,” called Titus. “Are you ready to proceed inside the facility?”

  Lena nodded. She’d memorized the entirety of the underground tunnels, so she knew exactly where to go in order to find the designated areas. “Yes, sir.”

  “Good,” said Titus. “We’ll head to the gate room first, then we’ll see about investigating the power station.”

  “As you wish,” said Lena, and she quickly followed after him.

  The mouth of the cave opened into a large stairwell, leading deep into the earth. From here, it was a straight shot through the first major tunnel, with only a few detours to the path before reaching the final room. The hardest part would simply be the distance and the time required to make the walk. The whole investigation would take them a few hours, at the very least.

  The pilot would, of course, need to reapply the AX-12009-B3 multiple times before the end of the day while the rest of them worked, but it couldn’t be helped.

  “Hold a moment,” said Emile as they neared the end of the stairs. She blinked three times, activating her implant, and her eyes dilated. “Scans are showing a few lifeforms further in.”

  “How many?” asked Titus.

  “Four, it seems. Split into groups of two.”

  “We’ll have to deal with them in close quarters. Ready your AX pistols.”