CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Eve touched the air flowing around her, feeling the vibration of conversations held elsewhere in the facility. With a deep breath, she calmed her already slowly beating heart until the organ barely quivered. Tranquility is what she sought, a near sleep-state devoid of distractions while still able to converse with her brother on the other bench. The pair called this exercise Dreaming, though they never slept in this state.
The girl sifted through the chatter, gliding through the ripples of surrounding voices. This was a secret they kept from the scientists, their ability to move through space while sharing the river of molecules she and her brother controlled. Here and there, she recognized words and paused to consider secret exchanges and muffled grumblings meant for others or no one, but especially not her. Had these soldiers known they were overheard, they would cease to speak. Adam and Eve were freaks to these non-emotants, nothing more than lab experiments who would surely be put down when the study concluded. Only a handful of these people could be trusted.
Thankfully, they knew who was in this handful due to Adam’s gift of foresight. He was stronger in this ability than she, so his words were immediately believed when first revealing the death awaiting the siblings. They did not have much time, as this was merely a year before, and so they formulated their plan.
“We’re dangerous to them,” he had explained at the time, “more so than their weapons.”
“But if we become their weapons, our importance goes up,” she had offered, hopeful and naive regarding the actions of unmodified humans.
“He’s greedy,” Adam insisted, “and will recognize the threat we pose as soon as we reveal our true power.”
“Then we must use him before they can use us,” she had replied. “Set things up so we are in control until we can get away.”
Each day her brother’s prophesy had proven more true, and each day the pair grew more fearful of their captors. That’s what she was doing now, watching to see if the seeds they’d planted had grown roots or needed more tending.
She found the pattern of vibration she recognized as the senator. He spoke to a room full of muttering voices Eve had never heard. They spoke English, but their accents were German. With gently amplified focus, the room spun into view.
“Gentlemen,” Esterling pleaded, “and ladies, please! We have the aid you desire, but it comes only with whatever conditions we require.”
“We do not want your food and medicine if it means dissolving our nation!” a woman explained. “The United States is an ally, but what you offer breaks that equality.”
“No one is dissolving Germany’s sovereignty,” Esterling insisted. “The temporary martial law will last only until we can determine if your leadership survived and can be reinstated.” Of course, he knew it had not.
“And if it can’t?” a man demanded. “Will you lead permanently?”
“No! Absolutely and most definitely not. In the case your government did not survive, then General Braston will peacefully transition power to the central power you elect.”
“A general... We don’t need your soldiers,” the man argued. “We have troops of our own.”
“You do need our soldiers because most of yours perished in the missile attack! But we and your remaining troops have agreed to work together with solidarity against lawlessness and external threats.”
“Threats? The only threat is the obvious wealth you’ve seemed to acquire!” The anger in the first woman’s voice laced her words as she added, “Inequality is the killer of solidarity. Hand over what you would give us, and we will issue it to our people. That includes the radiation vaccine!”
“I won’t do that,” Esterling said with finality. “We only ever created enough doses for our own soldiers, but with your help we can produce more—enough for all your soldiers and civilians. Even now, Herr General Richter has agreed to work alongside General Braston, and their agreement...” he was cut off by a sudden silence as if interrupted.
“What is it? What do you see?” Adam demanded from his sister.
“Shh,” she urged. “Someone else entered the room.” She focused intently, trying hard not to lose the connection or miss out on a single spoken word.
“Senator...” Jake Braston finally said. “Sergeant Roark brings a timely, albeit disturbing, report. I’m afraid it speeds the process and, if Herr General Richter agrees, will nullify this vote.”
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
His German counterpart’s deep voice boomed. “What is it, General Braston, that would supersede legal ratification of martial law?”
“Sergeant Roark has just returned from a scouting mission, where he reports seeing an army approaching from the east.”
“Which army?” General Richter demanded.
Eve recognized Benjamin Roark when he spoke. He had been a key player in Esterling and Braston’s plan, but he was one of the few she believed they could trust. He was a loyal friend to Doctor Yurik, despite their enlisted/officer division. They spoke often, playing games like Scrabble and chess in the mess decks whenever they found the time. She respected him and treated the man like a friend, and so then would Eve.
“The Russian army.” Roark informed the room. “Three columns with at least fifty thousand in each, but there could be more than our scouts could properly count.”
Richter processed the information, exchanging a knowing look with Braston before stating the obvious, “An infantry attack of that size, under these conditions is impossible! The preparations alone are insurmountable. How could they equip and sustain a march of that distance in only a matter of months! Even on horseback it would take years!”
“It’s downright Napoleonic,” Jake agreed. “They must have planned this for decades, in the event nuclear weapons were actually deployed. No, I’m sure they’ve been ready to seize upon this opportunity for decades.”
“They did have horses,” Sergeant Roark added, “but they also have working trucks. The first line has already taken Berlin, capturing the broken Bundeswehr holdings there. It appears the columns are gathering to establish a foothold.”
“Then it makes sense they’ll be in Frankfurt and Nuremberg soon,” Braston informed the politicians in the room. “I believe we have only days or weeks till they arrive here.”
The room drew a collective gasp and protests erupted. The woman who had spoken earlier asked, “How were they not affected by the EMPs like us?”
“The Ural-4320 and the Zil-131 run off simpler engines than those used by NATO forces. Though their diesel engines are similar, their government opted to minimize their dependency on electronics.”
“Why?” the woman asked, confused.
General Richter replied, suddenly understanding. “Because, as General Braston mentioned, they’ve always been prepared to use EMPs against NATO, knowing they would bring us to our knees. We’re weakened in their eyes, caught less prepared than they.”
“I have to agree we may appear crippled and ripe for plunder,” Braston said, “but how they got here is less important than their imminent arrival. General Richter and I will take immediate control of all NATO troops and working equipment... that is, if you agree, Herr General.”
“I do.”
The collective muttering continued, but it was now obvious Esterling had secured their support.
“Then it’s settled,” he announced. “The NATO alliance will establish martial law in this region and I will serve as ambassador of American good will. My job will be to oversee the rationing and distribution of resources to each of your provinces.”
“He’s scared,” the girl abruptly told her brother, barely speaking over a whisper despite the people in the room could not hear.
“Who is?” Adam asked.
“Michael Esterling.”
“No, not him. He knew the invaders were coming because we told him.”
“Perhaps, but something in his voice betrayed doubt.”
“Then we must expect another visit from him soon. We finally control him.”
Eve shuddered. She never looked forward to the man’s visits because of Adam’s visions, but she would put up with his presence until the final day arrived. She had to because they and Dr. Andalon would eventually need his help.
“I hope I’m not interrupting,” a voice spoke from the door of the lab, startling both children.
Eve jumped but did not shout out, though her omniscience slammed abruptly into her corporeal body. She rose quickly and turned to find David standing inside the garden.
“Not at all,” Adam lied, “we were merely practicing a new way of Dreaming.”
“Can we help you, doctor?” Eve asked quickly, masking her irritation at his unannounced arrival.
“I’m ready to help,” he said, trembling and afraid of his choice.
“So you found it?” She asked. “The evidence that Brooke carries Esterling’s heir and not yours?”
“Yes, it was buried in the data, intentionally hidden, but I persisted. She gave up on me before I succeeded, accepting his donation because his traits closely resemble my own.”
“But you did succeed,” Eve said, knowingly, “and now you can produce your own heir.”
“Yes, if only she’d have waited.”
“You understand what we’re asking of you? What we’ll need when the time comes?” Adam asked slowly, as an adult would ask a child instead of the other way around.
The scientist nodded. “Yes. I’m ready to do whatever I need to ensure my experiment succeeds.”
“Your progeny,” corrected Eve. “We’re no longer experiments, even currently trapped in this lab like your monkeys. We’re your dream, your children, and your legacy.”
“I’m sorry,” Andalon said. “I forget you perceive yourselves as captives.”
“But not for long,” she snapped. “Things are changing rapidly above, and Senator Esterling has finally seized control of the region. But he faces a challenger—a larger more organized foe.”
“How will he succeed?” David asked.
“He won’t,” Adam said solemnly, “though we’ve promised him otherwise. That’s where you must aid us, to ensure his success.”
“I will. I’m committed to aid you however you need.”
The children exchanged a glance and Adam nodded. With a smile Eve motioned for the doctor to sit. “These are the things you must do,” she said, then proceeded to lay out the path to their freedom.