June 2028

Except for the president of the United States of America, all the other members are already ready to meet in the hotel room.

The younger people, the advisors, discuss their investments, mentioning how much they've made and comparing amongst themselves their wins.

Padma and Marianne chat while admiring the view on this summer afternoon.

Aymee Ortiz, Marianne's advisor, scrolls through the feed of her socials, and the older members argue about the latest players on the political scene and what changes they can expect in the next election.

"I appreciate your availability to be here. Marianne, have the newest specimens arrived?" Edward Hall, the head of the Council, asks.

Aymee hands Marianne the names of the children that were diverted from the Institute, and she confirms it.

"Did we really go ahead with the international specimens? If Eurasia finds out-" Saif says.

"Saif, this isn't open to discussion anymore. Your point of view was perfectly clear when we voted. We don't have that many specimens available to begin with, and making children go unnoticed is no easy feat. Eurasia won't find out. Laurence, I assume their cover is taken care of," Edward faces him.

"Yes, we have our systems identifying the specimens' pattern of speech and using it to send messages to their families. Also, we made up several photos of them in the Institute," Laurence Pierce, the head of the department of strategy and damage control answers.

"Great. What about the bracelet, Saif? It didn't work as we thought it would on the Day of Peace," Edward turns to Saif, facing him.

"Emily's levels are extraordinary, sir," Thomas smiles widely.

Marianne makes an effort not to roll her eyes.

"The bracelet must work on everyone. Our number one included," Edward shuts down any further discussion about Emily.

"Sir, I was against the use of the bracelet on the Day of Peace." Saif jots some ideas down.

"There are goals we need to achieve. Fast," Edward notices the disappointment on the president's face.

"Scientifical developments take time," Saif continues to write down.

"With the resources available, it really shouldn't," the president taps her hand on the table repeatedly and sends a fuming look to Edward.

"We understand and appreciate the effort that your team has been making. But we need it done. The strategic team is developing a plan and for it to succeed, we need the bracelet to work. All deviants will use it on the first day of the next school year," Edward promises.

"That's impossible!" Saif raises his voice.

Padma's entire body stiffs behind Saif, she notices that most advisors are trembling. The older members on the table seem to be much calmer, at least on the outside.

"Don't underestimate yourself. Surely you'll find a way," Edward smiles.

After other discussions, their meeting ends and they part ways except for Saif, Marianne, Aymee, and Padma that stay in the room each on their own.

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"How will we do it until August? It's impossible and I'm tired of this!" Saif approaches the windows and looks over the city.

"Do you want my team to help you out?" Marianne comes closer to him.

"Aren't you tired, Marianne? All this nonsense, these strategic plans we know nothing about..."

Marianne takes a few short breaths.

"Padma, Aymee, leave the room, please," she asks gently.

Padma smiles and leaves without protesting, Aymee continues to look at her phone, annoyed that she has to step outside.

"Pull yourself together, Saif," she softly tells him as soon as the door closes.

"Why aren't you tired? We are nothing but pawns in their games. We are scientists! Our goal is to end deviant and human suffering. That's it. That's what we work toward."

Was that ever our goal?

"It took years to make it small enough to be wearable. And then we stalled. Remember? The desperation of it not working properly? Remember the deviants that died during it?!"

"Specimens," she corrects him with a cold tone.

"They are my kind! It would never be you there, but I could be!"

"And it can still be you. Ice in your stomach." A Norwegian expression meaning to keep one's cool.

The tick of the vintage clock on the wall fills in the silence.

"I remember when our work wasn't getting anywhere. And you found a solution. I'm not worried about this idiotic deadline, because you'll make it work. If you want my help, I'll help you. But enough of this nonsense, especially in front of anyone else. Aymee and Padma would report you without hesitating. I'm supposed to. Pull yourself together and consider this my last warning. Which is more than you would have from anyone else. And more than I'd have from you."

"More than you'd have from me? Marianne, have I ever showed you anything but consideration?"

"Mmm, really?"

He looks at her and rubs his forehead. She avoids his looks. A few seconds go by.

"Where was that consideration when Erik was killed? And please, don't make a fool out of me and pretend that you didn't know," she says in the same mellow tone, without a single elevation throughout.

"I didn't know that they'd kill him..." he looks at her directly in her eyes. His lip trembles. "But I knew that he was dead before you did."

Finally, some consideration.

On the outside, Padma reads a study on her phone and Aymee tries her best to hear their conversation through the door, without any luck.

"Tell me, Paddy, what do you think? Have they hooked up? Has she told you anything?"

"Just read their minds if you're so interested," Padma tries her best to focus only on her phone.

"Tempting, but I work with other mind controllers and they would report me in a heartbeat."

"All that I am hearing is that you are the weakest on your team."

Aymee laughs.

***

Alex, Diego, and Rachel keep their watch over Marianne's house and never see her. Like a ghost that haunts them in their sleep, but whenever they open their eyes, makes them question if it was ever there. Alex takes the initiative to just teleport inside. Knowing fully well that Rachel wouldn't approve it.

Letters pile up on the entrance, there's dust everywhere, the small kitchen is perfectly organized, no dishes on the sink or leftovers on the fridge. The living room has nothing special on it, a chess board game, a small tv, an old couch. The garden outside hasn't been properly taken care of for a long time now.

He notices the two bedrooms and a small bathroom. There isn't much in one other than furniture, perhaps a guest room. The other clearly belongs to a teenager. Megan, maybe. There aren't any clothes hanging on the closet, the pallet bed isn't made, there are three colorful pillows on top of the yellow cover, a wall painted green, several fake flowers, a few books in the desk, and an old computer that doesn't turn on anymore.

Alex goes up the stairs, each step creaking more than the one before. The house itself is well maintained, but the structure shows how old it is. There's another bathroom there, a small office, and next to it, the main bedroom, smaller than he imagined, just a big bed, a closet with no clothes in it, one of the bed-side tables has a picture of a younger Marianne, in her early twenties, and a man around the same age, with ocean-blue eyes, dark blonde hair, and glasses.

He opens the drawer and sees a broken frame with a photo of a younger Megan, with long, red hair, smiling while holding in her lap a blonde child, not much younger than her. The resemblance to Marianne is uncanny, she has her mother's hair and features and her father's eyes.

Alex contemplates taking the picture to give it to Megan, but what good would that do? Does reminiscing on the past do anything other than gatekeep from whatever the future holds? How can one move forward when is being held back by those who aren't around anymore?