Verita (3 page)

I sighed, and looked around the small, cramped office I was waiting in. It was way too small for all the items crammed into it. Bookshelves and filing cabinets lined every wall. A few plants were trying feebly to survive on the inadequate light provided by the fluorescent overhead lamps. The last remaining furniture-free piece of wall was behind the social worker’s desk; on it was tacked a poster of a kitten hanging from a branch, the words ‘Hang in there’ emblazoned across the bottom. I resisted an urge to pull down the poster and shred it into a million pieces.

“You must be Brett,” a rich, deep voice behind me asked.

I turned and watched a tall man in charcoal suit enter the room. The suit looked too expensive and too well-tailored to belong to a social worker. The man had the build of a linebacker. His chest was so broad that even the best tailoring couldn’t make him look like he genuinely belonged in a suit. This was clearly not his office. There was no way he’d be the owner of that infuriating cat poster.

“Yes, that’s me,” I answered hesitantly. My stomach clenched nervously. This clearly out-of-place man couldn’t be a good sign.

“I’m John Roberts.” He reached his hand out in front of him so I could shake it. He towered over me, and his presence made the room appear even smaller than it was. “You can call me John.”

John sat behind the social worker’s desk and leaned forward, attempting a warm smile. It didn’t come off: it just made him more intimidating. “So, Brett, reading through your file, I can see that your life pretty much sucks right now.” It was clearly a statement, not a question. I was momentarily taken back by his bluntness.

“I, uh…well…yeah, it does,” I agreed, and dropped my head to stare at my knotted hands resting in my lap.

“Well, we think you have a lot of the valuable qualities we are looking for.” He nodded his head, reinforcing his statement. I was reminded of a bobble-head, as I wondered exactly who the ‘we’ he referred to was.

I realized he was looking at me strangely. “Me? There’s nothing special about me,” I blurted, realizing he’d been waiting for a response.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you that being modest won’t get you anywhere?” He chuckled: a deep, warm laugh, obviously amused with his wit.

“Well, I do well in school and swimming, but—” My voice trailed off. That life was behind me now, and I had little hope of getting any of it back.

“Let me guess: so much has happened to you that it feels like someone else’s life now, not yours.” My eyes widened as he finished my thoughts. A lump formed in my throat, cutting off my voice, so I just nodded. “Well, I’m here to offer you an opportunity.” He sat back in his chair and gave another attempt at a warm grin. “In essence, I’m offering you an even better life than you had before.”

“Well, I—”

I didn’t finish my sentence; a flash of rage rolled through me.
How dare he? Is this even legal? He’s going around offering an understanding shoulder to kids in my kind of situation, and then, before you know it, they’re signing a contract to join the armed forces. How dumb does he think I am? I may not know what I’m going do with my life now, but I’m sure as hell not going to give it up to join a war that I’m not sure we should even be involved in.

My face contorted with fury. “You kind of sound like an army commercial,” I snarled at him, and waited for the shocked expression I expected. But he just sat there, unfazed. So I continued, “I have no desire to be a soldier. I don’t care what the pay is or if it pays for college. So I’ll just leave, and save us both some time.” My jaw
twinged
with pain: I had been clenching my teeth.

I jumped to my feet and made to leave.

John started to chuckle, so I stopped and turned back to glare at him. “Glad to see there is some spark in you. I was beginning to think you had a bit too much in common with this kitten behind us.” He pointed his thumb over his shoulder. “We’re not recruiting for the armed forces,” he said matter-of-factly, and motioned for me to sit back down.

“Then why are you here, and who is this ‘we’ you keep referring to?” I eyed him warily as I slowly sat in my chair.

“I’m from the CTA; the Center for Technological Advancement. We’re a private corporation and, as the name implies, we’re focused on technological breakthroughs. I’m here for a special project that, while sanctioned by our government, will not be run by any part of it.” He said the last half of the sentence slowly to stress his point. “This project could change the face of life as we know it. An added benefit of the project is we’ll be helping disadvantaged teenagers with potential, like you.” He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, looking overly smug.

I scowled at him. “Well what exactly is the project you want me for? And let me just get this clear right now: I’m not interested in being anyone’s lab rat.” I stared straight back at John, meeting his eyes, daring him to just try sugarcoating or beating around the bush with anything he had to say.

John leaned forward again, never breaking eye contact, or even blinking. “I can’t give you all the details right now. All I can say is that you would be part of something big and important; a lot better than anything you’ll find here.” He gestured to the clutter around us.

“And what’s the catch?” I demanded, still suspicious.

“You’d be leaving behind your friends and family,” he admitted freely – most likely because he knew I didn’t have any left.

I quirked my eyebrows at him. “For how long?”

“For good.”

“And exactly what third-world country would you be sending me to? Would it be the Amazon or the Arctic that I’m dropped in the middle of?” I crossed my arms tightly around myself, as if that would somehow stop the chill running along my spine.

“No, nothing like that.” Again he sounded amused with me. I glared back at him, unwilling to be the source of his entertainment.

“Why on Earth would anyone want to take a job where they could never see any of their friends or family again?” I actually stomped my foot in frustration, but then realized how childish I was behaving. So, I put on what I hoped was a stoic look, and waited for an answer that wasn’t the obvious lack of said friends and family.

“Because, Brett, you’d be part of something that could change the future of mankind. You could be part of something important, where you could really make a difference. Besides, at this point you don’t have anything to lose, and there’s so much you can gain.” His voice was soft and sympathetic, but it drove home the brutal truth: I had no one, nothing to miss and no one to miss me. It didn’t matter where, or exactly what, his special project was; it had to be better than the future I was currently facing. Wherever I ended up, it would be better than staying here.

I let out a long, defeated sigh. “Okay, fine. What do you need me to do now?” I swallowed hard: my control over life had all but dissipated.

“Nothing. We’ll take care of the details. All you’ll need to do is pack any small, non-clothing personal items you want to bring with you.” He stood, giving me a broad smile as he shook my hand. “You’ve just made the best decision of your life, Miss Bradbury.”

I wanted to believe him, but I had a heavy, sinking feeling in my chest.

The nurse stops in front of a door my chamber. I swallow hard as she opens the door. She asks me to stand facing the container. I try not to compare its shape and size to that of a coffin. Instead, I focus on keeping the back of my flimsy thin hospital gown closed as I step in front of her. But even that is pointless. I feel her untie the two little bows that precariously hold it together.

 
“Please remove the booties, step in and turn around to face me,” she directs with a cold, indifferent voice. I resist rolling my eyes. You’d think I would get a little bit of sympathy, considering I’m about to spend the next several centuries in this metal box.

She busies herself connecting different stickers with wires to my skin under the gown. I assume they’re meant to monitor me during my sleep. She warns me that it will hurt for a second, and I feel the pinch of a needle as she connects some kind of IV to me. Then she removes the gown. The one thing they neglected to mention to me when describing everything is that I’d have to be naked. I’m mortified at the idea of spending my years naked. Even if there isn’t anyone around to see, it’s horrifying. Not to mention that when I wake up I’ll still have no clothes on.

Fortunately, I’m only mortified for a moment. Whatever is in the IV is quickly doing its job. My eyelids already weigh a ton, and I can hardly keep them open. My mind feebly attempts one last round of doubts and worries about all that could go wrong, and then I am asleep.

I was taken from the foster care center the same day I spoke with John. I brought with me a small grocery bag holding the few precious things I had left: my MP3 player, some family pictures, a gold chain and cross given to me for my confirmation, and my father’s wedding band. My mother’s rings never made it back from the Caribbean. Somehow the ring was ‘lost or misplaced’. Of all the objects I once had and valued, so darned little of it held any real meaning or importance for me.

I spent the next week with a group of girls at what I think was part of the CTA’s center. We spent half the time being poked, prodded and examined by doctors. The other half was spent taking test after test. Before long, the tests all blended together. They all seemed to be one kind of aptitude test or another. Frankly, I was getting tired of deciding if I was more like a bird, a lion, a lamb or some other silly animal.

It wasn’t until the end of the week that the project was finally explained to us. A life-sustaining planet had been found within our galaxy called
Verita
. We were going to be part of a colonization project. We would be cryogenically frozen and, while frozen, trained in our determined specialty. I knew, and they knew, that they were sugarcoating everything. It was what they
didn’t say
that frightened me. They stressed how it was their breakthrough technology that made the journey possible. They pointed out that a construction crew was a year ahead of us, so we would arrive to a fully constructed colony. And finally, they claimed they wanted such young subjects because there was a possibility of slight aging occurring over such a long time span, and they didn’t want us to feel pressured to procreate immediately.

What they didn’t say to us was that the technology was untested, and nothing like this had ever been done before. They didn’t truly know what we’d find on the planet, and there was a chance that we’d just grow old and die in our sleep.

That was yesterday.

That’s how I ended up where I am now – naked and unconscious in a metal box, waiting for the day when I either fade away into oblivion, or wake up feeling as if no time has passed. Hopefully I’ll wake up to a better future on a new world. And hopefully John was right about my decision. But now, all the reasons that brought me here no longer matter. I’m committed now. I made my decision, and there’s no turning back. All that is left for me to do now is wait, and hopefully not die, but wake up.

Chapter 2

I have never been a very sound sleeper. I usually jolt awake because of some weird dream or the jarring sound of my alarm. I rarely enjoy gently waking up to the sound of birds chirping outside my window and the realization that I still have a full five minutes before my alarm clock goes off.

Today is definitely not one of those days. Today the warm, safe cocoon of my slumber is ripped apart by some unknown dream. But instead of being jarred awake, I plunge into another nightmare. Wherever I am, it is too cold, and it is too dark to see. I try to wrap my arms around myself for warmth, but I can’t move them. The shock causes me to inhale a deep breath, but instead of drawing in air, I inhale the same cold substance that I now realize is surrounding me. I start to sputter and choke on the liquid. I’m not sleeping, but drowning. That’s why I can’t move; the water is so cold that my muscles have all but shut down. All I can do is sink.

My mind screams at me:
No! I can’t die! Not like this! This is too horrible a way to die! I’m supposed to die in my sleep when I’m old and gray!

In desperation, I try to force my muscles to claw to the surface of the water. If I can just get to the surface, someone might see me and rescue me. But the effort is exhausting, and I am still unable to even raise my arms. I feel myself start to shake. I can’t tell if it’s because of fear, or the strain of my effort. I want to scream out in terror, but that requires air. I don’t know how or why, but my panic wanes as I realize that it’s hopeless to fight the inevitable.

It’s strange: I thought drowning would hurt more than this, but I’m not in that much pain.

My thoughts drift to my family. Will I get to see them again? They don’t even know –heck, I don’t even know where I am or how I got here. Then I remember where my mom and dad actually are, and a small bittersweet smile etches itself across my frozen face. At least I’ll be seeing them soon.

Suddenly there is a whooshing sensation; all the liquid around me disappears. I feel myself slipping downwards with the icy water, but then something hard slams against my chest. I hear muffled, but alarmed, voices in the background. A deep male voice sounds near my ear, trying to reassure me. “Relax; you’ll be okay. Don’t fight the coughing. It’ll help clear your lungs.” I feel a pinch in my arm and a series of prickles on my skin. It feels like Band-Aids are being ripped off of me.