Regression (12 page)

“
We have two options
for you while staying on the island. We have set up a cottage
residence which you can either occupy alone or with Jennifer if you
feel you need the companionship.” Jennifer looked startled at the
announcement of her role as companion.

“
I’ll be fine on my
own, no need to displace Jennifer.”

“
I’m sure Jennifer
wouldn’t mind, would you?” Adya’s impression was Jennifer would
mind but he appeared to be oblivious to the
undercurrent.

“
No, really, I don’t
need a chaperone. I’m forty, remember. I’ll be quite comfortable on
my own.”

Abraham nodded. “I plan to tell
people you are eighteen, your presence as a fourteen year old
unsupervised on the island might raise some eyebrows. The residents
are familiar with our regular internship programs, the cover story
we use for the arrival of each regressee,” he flicked a glance over
her, “but generally the men have been more mature in their
appearances.”

The limousine stopped in front of
a row of tidy cottage style houses with bright stucco and white
shutters. The sight brought back memories of an ill-fated morning
during a vacation in the Bahamas with Daniel before their children
were born. The sales people at the time-share complex had been
extraordinarily persistent until her husband finally told them he
lied on his application and really worked at a fast food
restaurant. They escaped at last to laugh all the way back to their
hotel room. She felt her heart contract.

Abraham provided the key to unit
#2, a salmon coloured domicile near the end of the row. He and
Jennifer saw her into the suite and left upon ensuring everything
was satisfactory and setting a time for shopping the next
morning.

Adya explored her new residence.
The cottage was tastefully furnished and the kitchen stocked to the
rafters with every food item and cookware she could need. Pungent
spices permeated the air after she opened the drawer loaded with
little bottles. The colourful variety of vegetables in the crisper
made her mouth water for a stir fry. She was ravenous and prepared
her dinner, opening the envelope containing her orientation package
while the meal was sizzling.

The binder introduced all
twenty-eight executive staff members of the Three Eleven
Corporation−the regressed scientists. Much of the information was
discretely worded to disguise the fact these men had come from the
future into the bodies of their younger selves, a safeguard should
the orientation package be seen by prying eyes.

The biography for each member
identified their date of regression. The oldest of the group at
forty-one was Abraham Fairfield. One new individual joined the
corporation executive each year. There were no females. Each
personnel profile had a photograph she studied intently for quick
recognition when attending the meeting the next day. The men not
only had divergent areas of expertise but also differed in ethnic
background. She continued to leaf through the pages, skimming the
listing of projects and initiatives being developed by the
corporation. They ranged in specialization from computer
programming to microbiology, genetics to aerospace
engineering.

The scent of the stir fry
penetrated her brain, prompting her to look up from her review.
Daniel loved stir fry and, surprisingly, so had the children. Her
chest tightened at the thought of this alternate timeline leading
her away from her husband and family. Lowering her head to the
table top, she closed her eyes and visualized them.

Would it be possible, even within
this timeline, to recreate the children she had known? Would her
firstborn child be like Will even if born earlier? Would her first
girl be as precocious as Serina? Or would different children be
born? What if she met Daniel again? Would he feel the same way
about her this time, since she was a different person?

The thoughts were too painful to
dwell on, lowering Adya’s normally buoyant spirits. She busied
herself with eating dinner, then dragging her suitcase to the
bedroom. Unpacking her clothes, she organized the meagre selection
in the large closet and dresser in the single bedroom of the
cottage.

The sliding doors at the back of
the bedroom led her out to a small but attractive yard. After
watching the sun set from a lounge chair she returned to the crisp
air inside the house. The remainder of the evening was spent
writing in the new journal Samantha had given her just for the
journey. Details of her trip, impressions of Abraham and Jennifer,
and a description of the island filled the pages. Esmero was
Spanish for diligence, an appropriate label for the source of so
much industry. Adya looked back upon previous entries, refreshing
her memory about events she had noted from the original timeline,
especially technology which had been developed. Then she picked up
the phone.

“
Hi, Mom.”

“
Hi honey. How was the
flight? Where exactly is the island?”

“
I’m not sure, but
it’s hot. I have to go shopping tomorrow for some lighter clothing.
Everything is great. They have a really nice room for me. I miss
you.”

“
I miss you too, hon.
Here’s your father.”

“
Hey, kiddo. Can’t
believe you’re half-way around the world without me. What am I
going to do without you to tease for two whole weeks?”

“
Practice on Annie,
she needs thicker skin. You might end up getting back as good as
you give, she’s pretty smart…you might not be able to keep
up.”

“
Ow, that hurts. Love
you.”

“
Love you too, Dad.
I’ll talk to you tomorrow night, okay?”

“
Sure, sweet. Good
night.”

“
Night.”

Jennifer arrived promptly the next
morning at nine, and Terrell drove them to a small boutique. “The
Corporation takes care of everything. We’ll put what you purchase
today on the account. Common practice for each regressee is the
corporation takes care of day to day needs at headquarters, and
provides an allowance for expenses on the road as well as an
expense account credit card. There is no differentiation of
expenses verses personal use, though, so don’t worry about your
purchases today.”

“
Wow, that seems
rather…liberal.”

“
The men have no
limits to their spending because their role is so crucial. They
dedicate their lives to the company, why should there be
restrictions to their lifestyle?” The censure in Jennifer’s eyes
gave Adya pause, then the assistant continued her defence of her
employers. “I will say, however, none of the men take advantage of
the availability of unlimited funds. They’re all very
conscientious.” She did not comment further on the financial
arrangements.

At the boutique Adya selected
clothing and other items needed for her stay, her frugal nature not
allowing her to purchase more than the absolute necessities.
Jennifer directed the clerk to bill the Three Eleven account, and
the women took the purchases back to the cottage. Her outfit for
the meeting was selected with care and Jennifer helped arrange the
rest of the garments in the closet. She chose a conservative
business suit. Looking suave and collected would hopefully help
counter any negative first impressions.

Terrell knocked. “Time to go.” He
held the door open as both women entered the car then drove them
toward the high-rises visible from the cottage front door. Adya
gazed at the passing cottages, row upon row, wondering how many
residents worked for Three Eleven. The number of lives influenced
by the company was immense; none of the island facilities would
likely exist without Three Eleven. Even if the imminent disaster
never came to be, if the regressees were wrong in their hypothesis,
she hoped their actions still improved the lives of everyone
touched by the company.

The car pulled up to the largest
of three office towers. Adya admired the classic architecture,
decades ahead of its time in terms of style and aesthetics. The
buildings of the seventies and eighties never appealed to her and
she was happy to see the structure was tastefully finished on the
outside. The stucco styling became popular in the late nineties and
early twenty-first century but held a timeless appeal. Exercising
her own artistic flair in designing both the interior and exterior
of the house she built with Daniel had also involved melding his
more flamboyant tastes with her conservative choices. Challenging
at best, downright frustrating at worst, they managed to persevere.
Paint colours were changed repeatedly before a compromise was
finally found in neutral territory. As she and Jennifer stepped
toward the door, Adya fought the wave of loneliness cresting in
her. She missed Daniel immensely.

A cluster of employees entered the Three Eleven
tower ahead of them, Adya watching each person swipe their
identification card and enter a code at the terminal monitored by
two uniformed guards.

“
Good morning, Miss
Carter.”

Smiling, Jennifer nodded. “Good
morning, Ethan, Fred. This is Adya Jordan, she’s coming on board as
an intern, so I need you to make up an ID card for her. Adya, Ethan
and Fred are the guardians of the tower, with complete control over
who enters and leaves these demesnes.” Fred escorted them to a
small room on the left and used his ID card as well as a screen
print of his hand to open the door.

“
Miss Jordan, will you
please stand there?” Fred pointed to a square painted on the wall.
He snapped a photograph with a compact digital camera and provided
her a card holder to pin to her clothing. She motioned to the
device.

“
May I see
that?”

“
Is that okay, Miss
Carter?” He handed her the unit at Jennifer’s nod. It was very
small and light, the digital LCD screen showing room for ten
thousand, nine hundred forty five more photos. “Wow, that has some
major storage space. Nice and light, too.” She returned it to his
waiting hands.

“
We make great
products here at Three Eleven, Miss Jordan.” Fred’s pride in his
employer was evident as he spoke.

Her palm was scanned and processed
with Jennifer completing the encoding granting her level of access.
Fred did not have clearance. They then returned to the security
gateway.

“
Please test your
card.”

She swiped her card and read the
display screen.

Welcome Adya Jordan to the Three
Eleven Corporation. Please enter your temporary personal
code.

She entered the code.

Please enter a new personal code;
your temporary code is now invalid.

The birth date of her first child
preceded by a one; 107091995.

Your code has been validated, you
may proceed. Have a nice day.

She walked through the scanner and
waited for Jennifer. The interior of the Three Eleven tower was
designed with the same understated elegance as the airplane.
Tasteful and classic, muted earth tones were punctuated by living
plants. The main floor included small seating areas where employees
casually chatted, coffee in hand. Some of the staff read newspapers
while others reviewed files. Jennifer joined her.

“
There are a lot of
people leaving, does Three Eleven have rotating shifts?”

“
Staff here don’t work
set office hours. You’ll find people coming and going at all times
of the day. Productivity isn’t dictated by a nine to five workday.
The staff work based on project completion guidelines rather than
daily, weekly, or monthly work schedules.” She indicated a schedule
board with in/out boxes listed for staff members. About two thirds
of the pegs were in the ‘in’ position. A quick calculation had her
estimating four hundred staff on the boards.

“
Sometimes people work
for twelve hours straight, or more, when they’re on a roll. At
other times, they won’t come in to work for three or four days
because they can’t find the focus they need to complete their
tasks. We’ve had very little abuse of the system, the employees
complete their projects more efficiently and effectively if working
when motivated and resting or recuperating when not.” Jennifer led
the way to an elevator standing apart from the rest. “This elevator
is Executive use only, your card will give access. Here, swipe
here.”

A slide of her card and the doors
opened, revealing an elevator with a glass wall. Jennifer selected
the top floor while Adya admired the view. The visible shoreline to
the east shimmered in the heat, the white crescent of a sandy beach
as picture perfect as a post card.

“
Was everything
planned on the island, or built upon existing facilities when Three
Eleven moved here?”

“
The entire island has
been designed to maximize efficiency, as with all Three Eleven
projects. It was only finished two years ago after almost ten years
of planning and development. Specific departments occupy certain
levels, you can refer to your floor guide,” she indicated the
binder in Adya’s hands, “it tells you who works where.”

They exited the elevator on the
uppermost level, again soft shades colouring a pleasant sitting
area adjacent to the elevator. No other elevators came to this
level, only the one they rode. A wide corridor lined with doors
ended with large double doors opening into a massive meeting room.
Three walls were entirely windowed, a tint preventing the sun from
becoming unbearable. The room was dominated by a modular table
arranged in a giant horseshoe.