Ascent (6 page)

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Authors: Amy Kinzer

BOOK: Ascent
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Lisa stands in front of the room. “Good morning, class.” She takes a moment to examine each of us. “I see you all made it here safely. Welcome to IYD. You represent the best. You represent the future. And…” She looks around the room, dramatizing the moment. “This is the first year we’ll be testing Dr. Thompson’s newest device. It’s the rarest of opportunities.” She claps her hands together and looks at each of us in turn. “Of course we’ll need you all to sign a release form absolving IYD from potential injury or death.”

Injury or death?

An audible gasp fills the room. Rick’s to my left and his eyes get real big. I take a deep breath. IYD is supposed to be about building the brightest minds and having opportunities for scientific development in youths. Not injuries and death.

Lisa presses a button on the podium and the release form appears on our desk. It’s electronic. Letters glow against a dark backdrop.

“There are special pencils on your desk for writing on the glow board. We need you to use these pencils to sign your names.

I pick up the specially made plastic pencil and write Farrah-Kate Ryan on the board. Whatever happens to me over the summer, I’ve released the opportunity to sue the school. Not that anyone would care if anything happened to me anyway. It’s just dad and I.

Lisa smiles at us, her lips spread thin, and the hazy colored light in the darkened room make her teeth glow. I wonder if she knows about her teeth. She looks like the Cheshire Cat from
Alice in Wonderland
.

“Great, we’re ready then. Let’s get started. We only have eight weeks. And I can tell you this: the next eight weeks will change your life.”

Casey turns back and looks at me, her eyes as wide as saucers. I shake my head, afraid to say anything in front of Lisa.

What have I gotten myself into?

***

Suddenly the electronic chalkboard lights up with a syllabus. The lesson plan is carefully outlined for each week. “Ah … I see you’re surprised,” Lisa says as she paces the front of the room. “You are not allowed notepads, pencils or paper in the vault. You use the glow boards for notes. Everything that goes on in this room stays in this room. Got it?”

We nod in unison.

“Great, because what you will learn over the next eight weeks come from years of research funded by Marvin Winn. Mr. Winn founded IYD with proceeds from the sale of one of his casinos. He’s now dedicated his life’s work to the Party. What we will teach you here can’t be learned anywhere else. Congratulations, you’re among the lucky few.” She gives us a broad smile from the front of the room and claps her hands. Shannon is the first to clap along. Others follow. It feels weird, but I do it anyway.

Rick raises his hand from the corner of the room, then waves it in the air when Lisa ignores him. “Has Mr. Winn patented his findings?”

“The patent is under seal by the Party,” Lisa says. She walks towards him and stands above his desk. They’re in a stare down until he looks away. Then she returns to the front of the room. “We can make anything happen for you. Just remember, if anything from IYD leaves without our permission, we know where to find you. Understood?”

A chill runs down my spine. “Yes,” I spit out. This time I’m the first person to answer.

“Good, because you’re no longer one of them; you’re one of us.”

The words hang in the air.
One of us.
Like they own us now

“Now are we ready to get started?” No one says anything. No one has to. “Good, then it’s time for you to meet Dr. Thompson. Dr. Thompson is the genius behind Winn Theory and the developer of the Slider.”

The door opens and in walks a tall man about my dad’s age in a white lab coat. He looks like he stepped right out of one of those old mad scientist movies. He’s the kind of tall that gets a second look and he has crazy hair that gives the appearance it’s been twisted around corkscrews. Altogether, his appearance makes me wonder if he spends all his time locked away in a lab.

Dr. Thompson gives us a broad, welcoming smile, like there’s nothing better than a group of fresh-faced students otherwise known as new Party blood.

“Good morning, everyone.”

“Good morning,” we mumble back.

He picks up a device off the table in front of the room and presses a couple of buttons. The screen on the wall behind him lights up with all our face shots that we sent when we applied for the program. Fifteen faces. I see my face name in the middle of the board.

Farrah–Kate Ryan

Senior at Beverly Hills High School

Gifted Actress

Daughter of Lynette Ryan 1961 – 2002

I examine the other photos on the board. Everyone here has a gift. It’s the only way to get here. The Party has to think you’re special.

Matt’s name is at the top right. Everyone knows Matt Fenton. He was one of the most sought after players during the college recruitment season.

Matthew Fenton

Graduate Eagle Rock High School

All–American Athlete

And there are the others: Casey’s a singer from Portland, Rick is some super-smart math genius from Seattle, Shannon lives in Florida and she’s been through NASA’s youth program, Foster is from Maryland and had a perfect score on his SATS and was the winner of the last two science fairs, Marcus is from Palo Alto and has his own internet company that at one time would have made him a millionaire. Everyone is gifted at
something
. It makes me feel inconsequential.

I’m in a room full of super–teens and suddenly I feel small and intimidated.

“We have the best and the brightest here at IYD this summer. The Party will change your life. Welcome you to the only program that can change your future.”

It feels weird being included. I try to make myself small. I can’t imagine what all these super geniuses think of an actress being in the program.

One thing for sure, I hope they don’t make me do any calculus.

“Is everyone ready to get started?”

We nod our heads in unison.

***

Dr. Thompson starts with an introduction to the creation of IYD and the purpose of the Academy. He discusses Marvin Winn’s life and what compelled him to create a youth program for the future leaders of America. Pictures of Marvin appear on the screen: him as a young man, his first casino, his time as a casino mogul, and the development of the Institute for Youth Development.

I listen intently to what Dr. Thompson has to say. I take notes on the glow board. The hum of the air conditioner and the cold air makes me feel like I’m in some kind of tube.

I guess, in some way, I am. A test tube. A place to develop the Party’s future leaders.

Then the screen changes in front of me and a circular device appears. Suddenly the room is alert.

“Class, training lasts eight weeks. We have a lot to accomplish so we’re going to jump right in and get started. Some of you may have heard the rumors. We’ve tried to keep our discovery under wraps but there was an incident last year that allowed a leak. What am I talking about? Time travel.” He pauses and looks around the room. “Yes, you heard me right. Travel through time: it’s possible now, and the device you’re looking at on the screen is what allows you to locate the vortexes that will take you back in time. You will have the opportunity to be the first documented travelers to the past.”

The room is silent while we take it all in.

Dr. Thompson knows he has our attention. “Why is time travel important to the Party?” He starts pacing the front of the room. He’s on a roll. In the zone. “For the Party to be successful we need to have perfect candidates.” He paces back and forth. The room is mesmerized. “Perfect candidates have perfect pasts. They don’t have inappropriate pictures posted on the Internet, no arrests in their pasts, they come from good families,” his eyes pause on me for a second and I feel my face burn, “and they haven’t been in any unfortunate accidents.” Matt looks up from the board he was making notes on. I glance at him. He shakes his head and looks back down at the glow board. His face tightens. Dr Thompson continues, “Now you can fix your pasts. We chose you for the Party, not because we thought you were perfect, but because we thought you were the best candidates. So, here you are, and after we fix up your pasts, we’ll teach you everything you need to know for the future.”

Fixing your pasts. Grooming for Party leadership.

Goosebumps cover my arms and tickle my back. Time travel. The impossible made possible.

I can’t believe this is happening.

“Before we get started on time travel we need to discuss the theory we believe makes time travel possible. It is important to theoretically understand the dynamics of time travel and the rules that must be obeyed before you start learning about the process.”

The screen changes behind him and Winn Theory appears on the screen.

 

1) You can only go back.

2) You can only change what’s listed on your instruction manual. Beware of the Butterfly Effect.

3) Time is happening all around you.

 

“Class, what you are looking at is the theory behind time travel and the laws we need to follow. Now, rule number one, you can only go back. We’ll only be able to travel back in time. Because motion moves forward and the universe is expanding, there’s no way to move forward in time.” He pauses and walks across the front of the room. “I take that back. We don’t know if you can go forward. As yet, we haven’t been able to find a way to skip ahead in time.

“When it’s your turn for the travel we’ll provide you an instruction manual based on your past and give you a list of events we need you to change. It’s very important that you only follow the directions on the list.”

It’s all sinking in. I’ll be able to go back to that moment I’ve wanted to return to my whole life.

Marcus raises his raises his hand. “What happens if we don’t follow the instructions?”

“I’ll get to that in Rule Two. Just think, after the successful completion of your travel, you’ll be part of history.”

Part of history. I try to picture myself in the past, back with my mom. It’s amazing.

“But don’t forget: once you go back in time, you’ll be living that moment like you are there, everything will be the way it was, and you’ll be there to make a change. Do
not
change anything that’s not on the list. If you change anything else you can set off a ripple that will run through time and change everything. And you won’t be able to come back. Changing time prevents your return. But we’ll discuss all of this later in the program. I don’t want to overwhelm you right now.”

Silence falls over the room. I think about Mom and how much I’d like to change the past.

All the information makes my head feel like it’s about to explode. I look around the room and can’t tell if my classmates feel the same way, but Dr. Thompson must be able to read my mind.

“I think that’s enough for the first day. Liam will be taking you back to the ranch. Enjoy the rest of your day. The ranch has a lovely pool area. When you’re not in class or studying, be sure to take advantage of the property. Marvin wants to be a good host.”

The door rolls open and Liam appears. It’s time to go back. Our first day of class is over.

 

 

Chapter Eight

 

Matt

 

 

There’s been an uprising on the Strip. The Party hasn’t gained the popularity they desired. Opposition members came into Las Vegas overnight while we slept. The floor where we’re staying is on lockdown and class is cancelled for the day. I sit next to the window, watching the crowd of people holding signs outside the hotel. This can’t be good for business. I heard that the hotel is offering refunds to the guests who complain. People march up and down the streets holding signs. Their mouths are moving, but I can’t make out what they’re saying.

The windows are made of special glass to prevent penetration from outside.

Or jumpers from the inside.

At 11:00 a group of protestors approach the casino. Security pushes them back, but the rear of the crowd continues to surge forward. And it’s not just hotel security in their identifiable black pants and white shirts. Party security has joined them in their heavily armed black uniforms.

I watch a Hummer drive alongside the casino towards the crowd.

I lean my head against the window. The opposition looks so small. Like ants, or specks of dirt, dots in the distance that will blow away with the breeze.

Or be blown away by gunfire.

The crowd doesn’t back up. A couple of men in front wave their signs in the air. Like paper can stop a tank. Then another tank appears. The crowd still doesn’t move.

They’re like a mob.

I packed binoculars in my suitcase. I get up and dig through rumpled clothes and unread books. I find them buried underneath a pair of khakis. Back at home I would never wear khaki pants. But I’m training to be a member of the Party now.

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