A military canteen as bland as the coffee it served was again full of personnel enjoying their lunch break, or at least trying to. Conversations hardly stood out from the background, with the dark green tarpaulin walls fluttering in the turbulent wind. If one were just a seat too far, they might as well have sat alone. The salty ocean air and fresh grass blew from underneath, with a hint of herbal soup. Unlike the surrounding officers, a group of six sat around a long table, with nothing but air and swift glances between them.
One of the people finally raised their voice, drawing an assortment of eyes to him. “Perhaps introductions are in order. Sigmund Soter. I’m here to research geology, and to coordinate our expedition.”
The aged gentleman was classy, but his words could barely hold against the wind. Still, one of the group decided to amuse himself with conversation, if only the lowest consideration.
“So you’re Professor Soter?” A sickly man straightened his long, bridged back, producing a horrific crack. His sunken eyes rolled to him like slow pendulums, with a sour frown below wrapped around a bristly crow’s nest of a beard.
“You know me?” Sigmund blushed with pride.
“Just what I could gather from your profile.” He shifted some of his hair away from his eyes. “You can do the same with my info. Go ahead and read. I’ll see myself out.”
“Well, since we are going to be a team, I thought we should talk face-to-face. Er, you were?”
“Grigori Romanov. Translator. Just like in the report. Need I say more?”
"You mean Romanov as in the Silver-Quill Romanov? The one who solved the rongorongo script?"
“Yeah, that’s me. Anything else? Hobbies? Blood type? Star sign? Hometown?”
A woman on the other side of the table smiled while twirling her springy hair. “Sure, go ahead. Beats wasting time looking for it.”
Grigori looked at her with unfiltered bother written all over his lean face. “Ugh. I was born in Moscow on May second; don’t know what it means since star signs are a bunch of bull; I read and translate; and I’m B+. Satisfied?”
“Oh, more than that.” She stared intently at his blue veins with a sly smile, “Good to have you on board, our little blood bank.”
“You take one prick at me, and I’ll tell you what I’ll do!” Grigori slammed his hands to the table.
“Now, now, we need to get along. We can’t be the first to start killing each other.” Sigmund raised his hands. “How about you, Mr....”
A man taking the place of two finished the grand ordeal of a meal he had prepared. Despite the sound and mess he created, the man neatly cleaned his round face with a handkerchief, which he tugged back into his far-stretched shirt pocket. The table waited for him with close attention but great distance.
“Oh, me?” He finally realized. “I’m Adam Easton; nice to meet you all. I’ll be studying fauna and flora with you. Let’s be nice, okay?”
“Yes, thank you.” Sigmund sighed in relief from the friendly smile.
The last were the odd couple, though it was bad to call them that. The Yung twins sat side by side, observing silently under the shade of their military barrettes.
“Yung Yulei,” the taller woman saluted without blinking an eye.
“Yung Shenzu.” The shorter man bowed with a small smile.
“We are here to keep you safe.” They said, with eerily perfect synchronization.
Though their ages were listed as some of the older members of the team, without that information, one could conclude that they were dealing with child soldiers. On the other hand, as much could not be out of the question. Their black and red uniforms were tidy, with not a single spot of dust or any wear on them. Their faces had no immediate discerning features between each other, and most of the team were too intimidated to challenge their eyes and look closer. Shenzu was slightly slimmer, with his hair cut short like fresh lawn grass and his cheekbones poking out to the sides. Yulei’s face was a tough square, while her hair was like smooth chocolate wrapped neatly into two large buns.
“Good. Can we go now?” Grigori sighed. “I don’t get paid to waste time"
“I guess that is everyone.” Sigmund counted heads. “Wait. Where is the last one?”
“The blonde boy, right?” Adam remembered. “I saw him enter the camp just after me.”
“If he doesn't want to waste his time, then let him be. I sure don’t. See you at the breach,” Grigori straightened his back and walked out of the table.
With his long head tilted at the grass, mumbling to himself to calm his ill mood, he had no chance to see ahead. Similarly, someone else was not paying attention to his surroundings, focusing his senses on the plate in his hands. The two collided, with the small boy spilling a bowl of hot soup all over him.
“What the hell are you doing?!” Grigori snapped with burns all over his arms. “Wait, you.” He noticed a bush of golden hair.
“Sorry,” The boy said, his eyes still on the plate on the ground.
“Looks like you already found him, Greg,” Polly gave a laugh, raising her round, freckled cheeks.
“It’s Grigori. Gri-go-ri. Let that sink in your tiny heads.” Grigori looked over with an irked grimace before turning his vexed face toward the boy in the rugged poncho. “Those clowns are looking for you. Go have a chat if you care. Also, you owe me now.” He walked out, stinking of onions and overcooked beef.
The boy looked over to the table, where Sigmund met his blank gaze with a warm smile.
“Here, sit down,” He presented the empty seat that Sigmund left out.
The boy sat down with only a nod. Apart from his wild locks of hair, nothing was outstanding about him. His face, clothes, and attitude were empty air that made him almost invisible if not for the spotlight already put on him.
“I’m Polly. You must be Illias, right? Guess we’re going to be working together.”
“Guess so.” The boy answered, taking his hands from under his cloak onto the table. The scars and calluses around his fingers were that of a miner, seen not a day of rest.
“Um, Illias, was it?” Sigmund coughed. “What is a boy like you doing here?”
Illias scratched his head, his long nails pulling off layers of dirt. “I wanted to give it a try.”
The others traded questionable looks. Soldiers nearby stopped for a moment in case they misheard. The space quickly turned into a den of whispers and awkward silence.
Polly chuckled the silence away. “Right. So you got through the recruitment?”
“That thing? Yeah. Pretty boring.”
The answer made her only more curious. Having passed the ordeal herself, the competition was indeed fierce, and she had to show more than papers to become the survival expert of the team. She did hear another one had been selected, but she could have never believed the rumors to be true.
“Ahem.” Sigmund tried to keep the conversation going. “Could you tell us what you will do with our team? What kind of role did you apply for?”
“... A survival expert.”
“So you are an explorer or something?” Adam asked.
“Not an official one, but yeah.”
“Where have you been? Any interesting places?” Polly asked in turn.
“A few, but I wouldn’t call them interesting.”
Polly’s smile grew tired from the answer. Her patience was fighting against the mystery that was sitting before her.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
“Well, I got around and walked through the North Pole last summer. That was interesting. You got anything like that?” She led him further toward a clear answer.
“The poles were somewhat fun. The first summer morning is kinda pretty, too. Worth the wait. Seal cubs like to bask in it, and don’t usually mind someone joining in.” Illias’ eyes seemed to drag off to somewhere else.
“Y-yeah.” Polly had a hard time processing what she heard. There was not a hint of dishonesty on his face, yet the vague answers kept things annoyingly uncertain, intentionally or not.
“And they taste great too!” Adam rubbed his stomach.
“How long have you been adventuring?” Sigmund felt like asking.
“Can’t remember when I started.”
“What’s the first thing you remember visiting?”
“The Arctic. No, it might have been the Sahara,” Illias squinted his round eyes.
Even Sigmund couldn’t keep a straight face anymore. He looked at Polly, who turned to the twins, who glanced at Adam, who thought about seal stew.
An announcement rang with an ear-grating tinnitus, bringing silence to the windy kitchen.
“Sympanauts, please advise. You have thirty minutes until the final grouping. You must be present at least five minutes before that. We advise you to start preparing. That is all.”
“Well, you heard what they said.” Sigmund let go of the conversation and removed himself from the table with his cane.
“Sure.” Polly walked off.
The Yung twins nodded and marched out without a word.
“Guess I should prepare too.” Adam stood up, letting the bench bend back to shape.
Illias stood alone at the table. His stomach rumbled, reminding him of his missed lunch. He took his empty tray and returned to the counter until he reached the chef. She had nothing against a paying customer, and without a floor to clean, she was on cloud nine.
“No need to pay twice.” She stirred the smelly soup. “Same as before?”
“Something dry this time.”
“Sure thing.” The worker smirked and slapped some chicken and rice on the plate. “I gave some extra. Can’t grow big without proper food!”
“Sure,” Illias walked off to one of the empty tables.
Sigmund limped with the aid of his cane toward his chambers against the wind and rain. Passing through several lights, he stopped to look over at the large metal building in the center. He could hardly contain his excitement from merely looking at it. His goal was nearer than ever, only a few steps away. Against the time and effort he had to endure, the cold water pouring down his face was nothing.
“Scared?” Polly whispered from behind his back.
“Golly!” Sigmund gripped his dotted sweater. “You can’t scare an old man like that.”
“You sure have a quick pace for an old man,” She noted. Her eyes glanced at the cafeteria tent. “What do you think of the boy?”
“I should have done a deeper read of the profiles. The meeting did prove something.”
“And what’s that?”
“My suspicions on this operation.”
“Wow, harsh,” Adam sulked.
The two looked behind them in bewilderment. Even with his massive size, Adam had sneaked right behind them. Polly was especially perplexed, as she was used to being both the hunter and the hunted, yet she didn’t sense a thing until Adam opened his large mouth.
“How did you-” She stumbled on her words.
“Just an observation.” Sigmund tried his best to brush off the sudden appearance. “What do you think of the boy, Mr. Easton?”
“Honesty, I don’t like him,” Adam confessed, cheeks flushed red. “It’s just that his eyes are so…Empty,” He stopped to look at nothing with horror, bleaching his face pale. “There should always be something there. It can’t just be empty.”
Adam’s words jumbled together as his stare became more and more concerning. Sigmund tapped his soft, green hoodie to tap him out, yet his actions had no response.
“We should keep an eye on him,” He said. “And Gregori for that matter.”
“Let's just kick them out,” Polly suggested.
“It is not up to us, at least yet. It is a different story if they prove a liability.”
“It’s too late at that point,” Polly pointed her finger at his chest. “Then it’s your fault.”
“I know my responsibilities.” He brushed her off.
“What are you talking about?” A voice asked from behind.
Sigmund shuddered as his cane fell from his hands. It was Illias, breathing down his back. Polly’s hands instinctively reached for her waist, only to remember that she had to hand in her weapons. Adam snapped back into reality, only to turn his gaze back to the boy’s empty, somber eyes. He looked down at the small child, less than half his size, coddled under a stitched poncho, with his bush of blonde hair waving around in the wind. A single punch from him would have been enough to knock him out. Yet, all changed as the boy’s unfeeling eyes peered into his. He couldn’t look away. The ashen gray eyes, dark yet mellow like the bottom of the ocean, captivated him. He sank deeper and deeper inside them, where no light would reach and an unknown pressure that pressed from all sides relentlessly. It was not the same as the fear of something hunting you, but the dread of the unknown beckoning from the deep.
"Never mind." Illias walked off barefoot into the freezing rain.
The three watched as the boy walked off to a secluded tent on the far side of the encampment. Not until he went inside the tent could they let go of their breaths. Sigmund picked up his cane with a cold sweat running down his grooved face.
“I get what you mean now.”
“Let’s drop him out. Now.” Polly insisted.
“I have to agree with Polly,” Adam said with his teeth still clattering.
“We shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.” He swiped his face with a handkerchief and fixed his gray hair.
“Then you better be ready for what’s inside.” Polly took her hands from her waist.
Sigmund took a deep breath. “There is more at stake here. I will not let him ruin this chance.” He walked off toward his tent. “See you soon.”
Twenty minutes passed, and five people stood in the preparation room. The humming air conditioning did nothing to disturb the awkward silence between the group, and the metal architecture was as enticing as a silent movie for the blind. Everyone had to find means to entertain themselves, or at least kill time. Sigmund looked at his watch with his cane and luggage in hand, while Polly and the twins checked their tactical backpacks and weapons. She clutched her machete strapped around her waist, giving dirty looks to the rifle-carrying twins, who tried their best to ignore her. Grigori was there as well, swept in a book while resting his head on his belongings.
“Those two sure are taking their time,” Sigmund clasped the watch shut.
“It’s their fault if they end up being late,” Polly said with a sour face.
“Ditto,” Grigori nodded without breaking his attention.
The electronic door opened with something green and fuzzy filling the doorway. As the thing leaned forward and revealed its round head did the others recognize it was merely Adam.
“Sorry, packing took a bit longer than I thought,” He shuffled into the waiting room.
Pulling a hulking bag behind him, he took a large chunk of the room without much effort.
“What kind of rocks are you carrying there?” Grigori looked over his book.
“What? I need reference pieces.” Sigmund tugged his suitcase closer to him.
“Never mind.” He rolled his eyes.
“You know they give us rations?” Polly smelled the food in Adam’s bag.
“It doesn’t hurt to be prepared,” Adam shrugged with a childish grin.
The speakers turned on in the room, drawing their attention by the unrelenting force of a high-pitch screech.
“Notice to Sympanauts. Five minutes remaining. Please gather at the breach.”
“Looks like the boy didn’t make it,” Polly shook off a smirk from her face.
Sigmund looked at the door with concern. Having spent the rest of his free time reading through everyone’s profiles and looking up info online, he now understood them better, except for Illias. His profile listed barely anything besides his age, which was the youngest of the group by a landslide. How the association approved to let a minor enter was beyond him, but what was more puzzling was the sheer lack of credentials and achievements. The boy was a true mystery to everyone involved, yet he still managed to be accepted. Whatever he did at the test must have impressed the organizers enough to let him pass, which only made Sigmund more concerned about what he was dealing with.
Yet, with only one minute remaining, the door opened for the final time. Everyone’s eyes turned to the opened doorway and surely enough, it was Illias. He stepped in with nothing more than what he was wearing and sat down with his legs crossed. Polly clicked her tongue while Adam pretended not to be bothered. Sigmund said nothing but looked concerned at the silent boy. His fixation broke as the larger door behind him rose to reveal the breach. Air rushed out of the room from the gap, and an inexplicable light shaded the walls and the group.
The sensation ran through his entire body like a deep pulse. Impossible colors danced and swirled around a round, metal gate, leading into the enigmatic singularity. His heart could not stop racing. All the years of studying, looking for evidence, and gathering sightings, he was adamant about their brief yet sure existence. A turbulent, transient rift in space. It awaited him. With only a step, he and the others would enter the other side, to his true goal. A single tear flowed down his cheek, only to be pulled by the vortex and sent to the realm beyond.