The Cupel Recruits (26 page)

“Team, please stand in a circle in the order we assigned,” Saraceni instructed, which they did. “Once the machine is turned on, you will need to concentrate as you did in your meditation exercises. You are to focus all your energy on elevating your own natural frequency as high as possible. If you all do this, your dark matter DNA will operate in unison at the necessary frequency and should act as a control switch to transmit information in a direction upward.”

“That’s why we’re in the order we are,” Kyle added, “ because by being in ascending order counterclockwise, the flow moves upward. If we were in ascending order clockwise, it would flow downward.” They all nodded.

“Everybody ready?” Saraceni asked, and they all assented. Wood turned on the machine and as its gentle whir built to a full hum and then a steady noise the volume of a large roomful of conversation, the team members of Molior began to feel the effects. Jack felt disoriented for a second, but then remembered his breathing techniques. Gabriel, being in the first position, felt a heat sensation and a small vibration throughout every cell in his body, as if he were lying flat in the bed of a truck as it rolled across rhythmic ridges in the road. As the exercise progressed, the heat became more intense, but did not rise to the level of pain. Saraceni watched the monitors closely, which the team could not see, as the team members struggled with adjusting to the effects. After a few minutes, when he felt like they were adjusted, Saraceni gave the nod to Stone who increased the machine up to its full capacity. Wood did so, watching Juliet closely for a response, but she continued her breathing exercises with her eyes closed and did not seem to react to the increased intensity as some of the others did. David Running Wolf’s long hair moved away from his body slightly, full of static charge.

“Good breathing exercises. Now focus on your meditations,” Saraceni talked them through the exercise as they had done in some practice sessions in the early weeks of their training. Though they didn’t know why at the time, the focus and effort they paid to the task then would certainly help them now. As they meditated, the frequency clearly raised on the monitors. Easily at first, and then more slowly until it seemed the team was exerting intense effort for the smallest fraction of gain in the level. Wood recorded the overall level of the group at 5.8, and noted each participant’s individual level achieved. With all of Molior’s eyes closed, Saraceni gave a look of concern to Wood and shook his head, pressing his lips together in dismay. He could feel a hair on the back of his head turning grey. He pointed to two scores, Juliet’s and Gabriel’s and raised his eyebrows in approval. Saraceni was very surprised to see Juliet at the top of the pack, at 8.2 individually, with Gabriel not far behind at 7.9. Wood gave a smile of approval, briefly displaying his pride in her. They noted that George’s level only reached 4.5, the lowest of the group, and Saraceni furrowed a brow in concern as Wood made the note. They let the exercise run just a moment longer to be sure they wouldn’t achieve any higher frequency. The faintest glow of an illuminated circle of light running parallel above the recruits’ heads began to appear -spanning nearly the width of the room. When the machine results stayed flat and the light did not grow any further in intensity, Saraceni cut the power. As soon as it turned off, most of the team either doubled over as if they had finished a marathon, or fell to the floor. They looked weak. Exhausted, in fact. Kyle looked woozy again.

“Saraceni,” he said in a weak voice, and then passed out. George did the same. Saraceni and Wood rushed to their sides.

“He’s just out-he’ll be okay,” Wood reported of Kyle.

“I think George is the same, but call medical. Let’s get him back to his room to be safe. Are the rest of you okay?” Saraceni looked around the room, assessing the condition of the other recruits. None looked close to passing out, but they didn’t look well either. He hoped they could recover in time for the mission.

“You’re all on rest status for the rest of the night. Everyone, when you feel ready, get back to your rooms, or to the common area at the farthest.”

“How did we do?” Juliet asked, barely getting out the words.

“Well. You did well.” He didn’t consider it a lie, since he was responding to Juliet. His coolness betrayed his true belief. Saraceni knew at that moment the mission was likely to fail, and it terrified him for the first time he could remember.

It was a sunny Saturday morning, the kind of day perfect for picnics. Lela was making coffee when outside the window she witnessed the “changing of the guard” as her night shift protection team left in favor of the day shift. Bianca’s car pulled into the driveway, ten minutes early for their Saturday morning coffee, but, then again, Bianca was always early. Her datebook had noted reminders to be early in front of the standing appointments, in contrasting colors. Bianca could make a trip to the County Fair organized, but since Lela had been her friend since childhood, she barely noticed anymore. Lela heard her knock at the door.

“It’s open,” she yelled. An irony, given that it was left unlocked so the protection team could come and go freely into the front part of the house for the kitchen and the powder room. Bianca bounded in, datebook in arm and a Coach bag slung over her shoulder, her ponytail perfectly pulled back, her designer sunglasses perfectly matching her outfit and her makeup already done at 9 am on a Saturday. Lela was in light cotton sweat pants, a tee shirt, and bare feet. She had combed her hair at least, not that it mattered much. Bianca was like a sister and didn’t require any formalities. The two women hugged and flopped on the cushy chairs in the back porch sunroom with their coffees.

“Soooooo….. are you glad to be back?” Bianca launched.

“Yeah,” Lela responded in a mellow tone, “but I wished I’d had more time in Africa.”

“More time getting hunted down and shot at? What are you, crazy?” Bianca scolded.

“No, not that part, but more time for research. And to help people.”

“Well, maybe you can go back, once it’s safe.” Lela mulled this over and raised an eyebrow, giving a noncommittal noise. She thought about the dream, about the prospect of the corporations launching zone wars over resources and ruining what was left of peace there. It was almost impossible to imagine, yet the idea nagged at the back of Lela’s brain. She knew there was a grain of possibility in it. She had seen Richard Currier’s behavior in the meetings with Pfister. Those people cared about nothing, literally, but the bottom line. Almost caricatures, she doubted they could be persuaded by reason or human rights arguments.

“Anyway, I’m glad to be here. I can finish stuff with the house. I think I’ve decided to rent it out instead of selling. I might want to live in it when I’m older, but right now my apartment is fine, and besides, I might want to do some traveling, or need to for work.” Lela’s explanation rambled on until it sounded more like a desperate justification.

“You don’t need to convince me,” Bianca chimed, “I don’t think you should be shuffling around this big house all by yourself, but you might want it later.” Then Bianca broke into a wide, teasing smile and leaned in toward Lela, “besides, never can tell if you might want to go see James.” Lela smiled slightly, but said nothing.

“So, heard from Captain America lately?” Bianca continued, not for a second intending on letting Lela get away from the topic that easily. Lela laughed.

“Yes,” she conceded,” He’s coming this week. I think he wants to talk about seeing each other more often.”

“Well, hallelujah! It’s about time.”

‘Now, Bee, don’t make a big deal out of it. He still lives about 1,000 miles away, so who knows what might work.” Lela dampened her own enthusiasm.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bianca waved her off, “but at least you’re talking about it. Ready to give it a real try?”

“I think so,” Lela answered slowly, not for lack of conviction in the idea, but for the fact that it had been a long time coming.

“Well, keep me posted. Now, find me an honorable Captain America type, and we’ll both be good to go,” Bianca joked. There was a knock at the door.

“It’s open!” Lela and Bianca yelled in unison, their voices harmonizing in a way that sounded as if they actually were sisters.

“Lela?” Brett’s voice echoed tentatively through the house. He couldn’t tell where she was from all the sound bouncing in multiple directions in the foyer.

“Back here!” she yelled loudly, and then whispered “Brett” so only Bianca, who nodded knowingly, could hear. Brett appeared in the doorway freshly scrubbed, looking tan and exuberant, a stark comparison to the exhausted, pallid, sickly-looking version of Brett Lela had last encountered.

“You look better,” she complimented.

“So do you,” he responded, but wasn’t looking at her, at all, but Bianca. After a moment, Brett realized he was staring and pretended to see something out the window. He pulled up a chair and became less casual in his carriage.

“I’m here in a more official capacity,” he confided and glanced hesitantly at Bianca, as if to question whether he should continue. Lela stiffened her posture, rising at least eight full inches in the chair in the process, curiously.

“Bianca’s like a sister, Brett. There’s nothing she doesn’t know, “ Lela advised.

“Okay,” Brett began, “Well, they found Phoebe Jacob’s body.”

“Oh, my!” Lela exclaimed, reflexively clasping her hand over her mouth.

“Yeah,” Brett shook his head in dismay, “she was buried in an area with some brush.” He looked pointedly at Lela, but did not elaborate further on the correctness of Phillip Harriman’s assessment.

“Did they catch the guys who did it?” Bianca interjected.

“Yes, we did.” Brett added a slight inflection to the “we” but not enough to be arrogant, just enough to clarify. “In fact, I interrogated them myself for hours. That’s how we found the body. One of them had a conscience about it and I kept reminding him that the child’s mother would be hunting indefinitely for her. He finally caved.”

“I still can’t believe this. So, did they say why they did it?” Lela’s gaze rekindled an old intensity she had right after the bus accident. Brett knew she was wondering if this was related.

“They just wanted ransom money, believe it or not. We investigated thoroughly and there really is no connection at all between this and the bus accident,” he added, not sure if she’d be glad or sad that the two were unrelated.

Lela became angry. “Then why did they have to kill her if they just wanted ransom money! Her poor mother is already grieving and they could have just gotten the money and returned her.”

“I know,” Brett consoled her, “the one who told us where the body was said it was an accident. I believe him.”

“Yeah, “accidentally” dragged a four-year-old out of her own warm bed and killed her. I hope they get life in prison.”

“I say death penalty,” Bianca added, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Me too. Or at least the one-he was cool as ice. No remorse at all,” Brett commented. Lela refrained. She didn’t believe in the death penalty.

“Anyway, it’s in Felix Lee’s hands now. Which reminds me…” Brett pointed to the front door, “ …those guys are being removed today. They declared the bus incident an accident. There really was no foul play. They’re sure.” Lela was relieved, and felt a sense of closure in the knowing of it, behind her sadness.

“Well, I suppose that’s better, that it was just a random accident and not someone intentionally taking my family away,” she said quietly. How much better it was, she wasn’t sure, but however slight the improvement, she did feel it.

It renewed Lela’s desire to close out all the existing mess, both in the house and in her life. She wanted to start completely fresh, and in order to do that, she had to tie up loose ends. After Brett and Bianca left, Lela dug back into the office. Her guards had left and she felt a sense of peace at finally being able to be alone, after weeks in the company of others. Since the investigation was no more, she did not pick up with her mother’s old notes and files, but instead focused on closing out the Africa documentation. She would be presenting to Pfister, Currier, and other company representatives this coming Monday for the assessment of the future viability of the project.

It occurred to Lela that the precious mineral would be a sought-after commodity once the location of the cavern, and the mineral vein, was known. Surely they’d want to start testing, and mining, as soon as possible. She had managed to keep it secret, deferring the moment when she’d have to decide how much to tell them, and now she had fifty or more other people who also knew the location. Fortunately, only the core team would be on location Monday to present their findings to the committee. She read through her emails and was finally jolted from her indecision by one line from Pfister: “Currier is continuing the project on their dime. He’ll be sending his own team.” Lela’s body shuddered in a way that reminded her of when she and Gabriel were children and they would say “someone walked across your grave”. Every bone in her body screamed out that Currier’s men going in without any buffer from a truly scientific team would lead to disaster. She knew they would be callous. She knew they would be ruthless. She knew that the dream was right-they would start a war.

Lela dialed Tina’s number immediately, as she reached for the list of who else would be presenting Monday. Lela, Tina, Mako and Brett were scheduled to speak, but Lance and four others from the project teams would be in attendance to assist with technical detail if needed. ‘Nine people’ Lela thought to herself. She and Tina agreed they should call together that small team of 9 for a meeting that afternoon to decide how to handle the situation.

“I have a huge empty house,” Lela offered, “We won’t be bothered here and it’s very private.” Tina advised that Brian and Rachel were already in her garage lab cataloging samples from the trip, and that she’d bring them as well.

“Good,” Lela added enthusiastically,” Rachel has some data I never got to see. Can you please ask her to bring it?”

“Sure,” Tina replied, and hung up, leaving Lela wondering if she could convince the entire rest of the team to do something so against all of their natures, as well as her own-lie. She finished with her emails and was halfway through creating her PowerPoint presentation before she once again heard a knock at the door.

“It’s open,” she yelled in a rote manner, realizing that the door was still wide open though her security detail had left. She’d spent nearly her whole life in that house, never wondering about whether a door was locked or unlocked, now to have it spring to mind all too often. She hoped she wouldn’t feel this jumpy about security forever. She just wanted to feel safe without having to think about it, the way you do when you’re a little kid. In walked Gretchen, arms overflowing with a pile of files.

“Here are those files of Gabriel’s you asked for,” Gretchen stood in the doorway, stiff and still holding them. She still did not feel very relaxed in this house. Plus, everything here reminded her of Gabriel, which she hoped someday would be a fully good thing, but for now it still was not. The grief was too great.

“Thanks! Please, put them here.” Lela cleared a tiny corner of the desk off.

“I’m so glad you can use them,” Gretchen added sincerely, “I wasn’t sure what to do. I wouldn’t want to destroy any of Gabriel’s research, but I can’t do anything with it either. I hope one of these weekends you can come over and help me sort through what’s needed from his lab and what can go.”

“Of course. Someday we’ll be done sorting through piles and piles of hard memories,” Lela added in an attempt to console Gretchen. She felt closer to her now that the family was gone, like a war buddy almost, and was hit with her intense remorse for not having been nicer to her sooner, while Gabriel was alive.

“Someday,” Gretchen sighed, glancing downward. A picture on the desk caught her attention abruptly and she grabbed it up without hesitation, without even thinking.

“Where did you get this?” she was almost frantic.

“My Mom had it,” Lela informed her, “It’s a woman and a baby she helped before I was born.”

“No, it’s me!” Gretchen corrected, “And my mom. I’ve never even seen this picture. I wonder if Gabriel found it and somehow it got mixed in with your stuff.”

“No, Gretchen, this picture is taken in our upstairs back room. See the trim on the window? It used to be a nursery.” Lela began sifting through the rest of the file for the two other pictures that were within it. She pulled them out. One was of the two mothers standing together, and one was of Gabriel, about three, sitting and carefully holding the baby, Gretchen, in his arms. Gretchen saw it and pulled it gently to her face, examining every detail. She began to weep softly.

“He knew me. You all knew me-and my Mom. I barely remember my Mom. I wish I’d known. I could’ve asked about her. Your Mom would have had stories. My Dad never likes to tell stories about her, especially after he married my step-mom.” It was as if someone were pouring lemon juice over the already-existing wound within her.

“Gretchen! We have all those home movies. Remember when Mom did that huge project converting everything on film or VHS to DVD last year and then bored us to death with old vacation footage? Well, there are like hundreds in there! C’mon.” They raced out of the room and upstairs to the storage closet. Lela whipped open the top of the box to reveal hundreds of DVDs, each marked clearly by year and color coded as to type of activity.

“Typical Mom,” Lela smiled, pulling out a large stack of twenty or so from the year Gabriel was three. She rifled through them, but there was no real way to tell which footage might be helpful and which would not. She handed them to Gretchen.

“I can borrow all of these?” Gretchen asked, knowing these memories were precious to Lela, too.