Obscuris Vera Involvens

Part 1

Written by Sailor Fere

"You're going to eat the food."

"I'm not going to eat the food."

"You are going to eat the food."

"I am not going to eat the food."

"I'm afraid we have a bit of a misunderstanding here. You seem to think that this is a negotiation."

"Yes, quite a misunderstanding. You seem to think that you can make me do something I don't want to do."

Eriks sighed and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. He leaned forward and gave an exasperated look to the stubborn girl sitting across the table. She stared back obstinately, her chin tilted up in outright defiance.

"Listen, Lega," he began in the most older brotherly voice he could summon. "It's extremely important for a girl your age to get proper nutrition. You're at that age where certain, er, parts start to get all..." He paused and waved a hand vaguely in the air. "Squishy," he finished lamely. "You won't, ah, mature if you don't eat properly."

Silence. Lega glared at him blankly for a few heavy, uncomfortable moments. Finally, using an extremely clipped tone, she said, "As much as I appreciate the concern you express for my overall 'squishiness', as you put it, I am not going to eat the food."

"What did food ever do to you? Are you afraid of it? It won't bite. That's your job!" He pointed down at the modest meal of soup, bread, and tea and continued, "If anything, it should be afraid of you. But no, it sits there, quietly accepting its fate. Do you really want to let this brave bowl of soup and courageous piece of bread down?"

"What are you going to pull next? Are you going to try to get me to open my mouth by saying something like 'Ooh, the spaceship's ready to dock! Open the pod bay doors!'" She crossed her arms and gave him a particularly sour look. "Not a baby."

"You're certainly acting like one," Eriks grumbled.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, nothing," Eriks said. Then, something flashed in his eyes and a sly expression slowly spread across his face. He leaned back in his chair, stretched, and folded his hands behind his head. "You don't have to eat it. You win," he said simply.

Lega was taken aback by the sudden capitulation. Her eyes darted around nervously, as if trying to discover a trap. Absolutely nothing happened. "Er," she said finally. "Right. Glad you've come to your senses." As she gingerly stood to leave, Eriks sighed heavily.

"Yeah," he said, his voice filled with remorse. He closed his eyes. "It's a real shame, though. I wonder what I'm ever going to do with that disc the Senators sent here this morning. The one that says 'Project Fere Log Archive One' on the label. I'm sure it's filled with juicy information, but oh well. Maybe I'll use it as a drink coaster."

Lega, who had frozen during the less than authentic lament, slammed her six-fingered fists onto the table. The soup sloshed; the utensils rattled. "Give me the disc," she demanded.

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid I only negotiate with good girls who eat their dinners," replied Eriks.

Lega glowered, Eriks smirked, and both fell into yet another staring contest of the wills. Finally, Lega heaved a long, growling sigh and petulantly plopped back into her seat. She picked up her slice of garlic bread and examined it with a look of unalloyed disgust. "Manipulative swine," she grumbled as she tore into a bite.

"Guilty as charged," Eriks said with a grin. As he watched his younger roommate eat, the joy of his victory faded and a thoughtful frown creased his face. "You know why I do this, Lega," he began. His voice was quiet and earnest. "You've been living here for two weeks, and do you know how many times I've successfully managed to bully you into eating something? I can probably count them on one hand." He paused momentarily to gauge the girl's apparently non-existant reaction. He concluded, "You're too young to be so self-destructive. Your own carelessness can and will be the death of you if you don't shape up. Please try to take better care of yourself. Okay?"

Lega didn't meet his eyes as she stirred her spoon in the soup. "Not suicidal, so save your sermon, you windbag. And I'm eating now, so double shut up. Not going to drink the tea, though," she stated. She looked up so their eyes met without her needing to raise her head. "Hate tea."

Eriks smiled faintly. "I'll keep that in mind."

It was now shortly after the reluctant dinner, and Lega slowly approached the door that led to her new room. She reached down to pat at the data disc in the right pocket of her ill-fitting khaki pants. "Let's get to the bottom of this," she mumbled to herself. "But first, there's them." She shook her head and entered her room.

The screams were instantaneous, loud, and desperate, like a mob reaction to dire news. It was nearly impossible to decipher what was being said, but a few choice words managed to waft above the noisy fray. "Oh no!", "Help!", and "It's her!" were chief among these.

Lega's eyes surveyed her room. At the moment, the light of sunset poured through the skylight, casting a hazy orange glow over her spartan bed. Fat shadows clung to and worked at obscuring everything else, especially the objects her gaze settled upon. They were aging, somewhat shabbily maintained computers that lined her walls on all sides. They, her horrible, paranoid roommates, were the ones making the desperate pleas. Lega breathed in deeply and screamed, "Everybody shut up! I'm not Chapel!"

The screams tapered off and the room was quiet for a precious moment. After a moment, Lega heard the sound of quick footsteps approach her door. Someone knocked sharply on the door. "Uh," said a confused, muffled voice spoke up. It was Eriks. "Are you okay in there?"

Lega grimaced at the computers, giving them a distinct 'now see what you made me do' look. "Yes," she called back, her voice taking on an edge of irritation.

"You're sure?"

"Yes!"

"Well, uh," Eriks began. "All right. Um. Just remember, if you ARE going insane - and I'm NOT saying you are, honest, I'm just putting this on the table - it's nothing to be self-conscious about. I'll be in my room if you want to talk about it." With that, he left.

Lega sighed and gave the computers a withering stare. "See what you all did?" She asked redundantly, her tone dry.

Finally, a nervous male voiced piped up, "B-but you aren't lying? Th-that you're not Chapel, I mean."

"Right," Lega said tiredly. "I know you don't believe me, but we've been over this before." She paused to accentuate her point. "Many, many times before."

The room slowly filled with quiet whispers, and Lega knew they still did not believe her. She wasn't sure what Chapel had done to them, though she could speculate. Her mind flashed back to the day she was first exposed to Chapel Tabes, and the mess she had seen at the end of Corridor B. Oh yes, she could easily imagine what Chapel had done to these computers.

"Ch-Ch-Chap... She could just be tricking us," a female voice gasped and said.

"Wait. Has she ever actually talked to us before? I can't recall, but I don't think so," a male voice stated doubtfully.

"I also recall her being much taller."

"Yes, and not nearly as scrawny."

There was another long, thoughtful pause. Finally, the cacophony returned as abruptly as ever and twice as loud. Only this time, instead of screams for mercy, they cried with joy. Exclamations like "Hooray for Not-Chapel!" and "Not-Chapel is the best!" buzzed around inside Lega's head like trapped bees.

The first time this exchange had happened, Lega had been taken aback. Now, as it happened more or less every time she entered her room after even the tiniest of absences, she had grown jaded to it. She doubted that the computers would ever learn her actual name. To them, there were two people in existence: Chapel and the faceless, interchangeable Not-Chapels, benevolent beings defined solely by their grand ability to not be Chapel. Lega was actually pleased that the computers seemed oblivious to the mobius strip nature of their existence. If there was one thing worse than living every moment as if it were your last, with your past obscured and the future clouded, it was being disgustingly aware of it.

Lega snorted derisively. Now was not the time to brood. There was plenty of time for that later, when she didn't have a ticket to understanding the hows and whys of her very existence burning a hole in her pocket.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out the disk. "Okay, okay," she said impatiently. "Now that you're sure about me, shut up." The voices grew quiet, completely uninterested in holding conversation beyond their endless loop of terror and relief. Lega had never heard any of the computers speak on any subject that didn't involve panic or the lack thereof.

She made her way to the lone holo viewer in the sea of computers and settled before it. As her hand brought the disk closer to it, a meek voice entered Lega's mind and rattled around. "It... it's not footage of Ch-Chapel is it?" asked the holo viewer.

Lega blinked, looking at the gleam of the disk in the waning light. "I hope not," she finally answered. With that, she slipped the disk in and awaited its contents.

After a moment, Alexandren Sing appeared. A smile as cold and slow as a glacier spread across her face, and Lega's stomach flipped. "Greetings, Toblue," she said pleasantly. "Today is your very first history lesson. I'm certain that you think this disk will contain nothing but deception, that it is a trick designed to add further strain to your already burdened mind." She chuckled, a mirthless sound. "However, I am also certain that you will not feel this way for very long. Now, without further ado, please enjoy the presentation."

Her image fizzled out. After a brief moment, it was replaced with a holo of five individuals sitting around a circular table. The image was obviously shot from a security camera. The holo focused as it continued to play.

Lega drew in a slow, shaky breath. Though it seemed impossible, Alexandren Sing was telling the truth. All disbelief Lega held regarding the authenticity of the disk ebbed away. She could recognize two people in the holo, though they had looked quite a bit older when Lega had last seen them six years ago. They had been her parents, in the most general and generous usage of the term.

The five people sat around the circular table under dim lights. The mostly-bald man's face was twisted in deep concentration, causing his bushy eyebrows to knit together until they resembled a black fuzzy caterpillar. The long fingers on the thin man's right hand fiddled with a shiny new ring on the third finger of his left. The young woman brought a bright red fingernail to her mouth, coming close to gnawing on it before she glanced at it mournfully and lowered it to tap against the steel table.

Then there were the familiars. Aleksei's fingers formed a steeple under his thin, pointed nose. His light green eyes were half-opened, staring out at nothing in particular. It was his patented thinking pose. And, of course, there was Alya. She was slumped over onto the table with her face buried in her crossed arms. Her hair was stringy and trying to escape from its hasty, sloppy bun.

"So, this is how it ends," Alya mumbled. "Our careers, our respect, our dreams, all compromised by short sight and closed minds."

The young woman turned to stare at Alya, who was sitting to her immediate right. She gingerly reached forward to rest her thin hand on the older woman's head. "Alya," she said quietly. "Don't... don't talk that way."

"What 'way', Amani?" Alya asked with a sting in her tone. She brought her face up from its hung position. "It's the truth. Will lying about it make the situation any better? It's better to just face the facts here." She lowered her head back down to the crook of her arms and gave a long, slow sigh. "We can't do as we planned. They have the specimen now and have either disposed of it or have placed it under high-security storage. We can't do anything else. Frankly, I'm surprised that we haven't been arrested yet. It's coming, though. It's all a matter of time now."

An oppressive silence fell over the group. It stretched on, filling the room as if it were a poisonous gas. When it seemed the emotional poison had completely saturated the spirits of the sad little party, the two little words burst forth. The two little words that were a gleaming beacon in the darkness. The two little words that would completely change the lives of everyone involved. They were:

"Maybe not."

Four members looked up to stare at the fifth. Their curious eyes fixed on Aleksei, who did not appear to have moved a muscle. They did not press him, waiting instead for him to continue on his own terms. Finally, Aleksei moved. Slowly and deliberately, he reached into a pocket hidden on the inside of his large white coat. He pulled out a glass container and, with a soft clink, it was set upon the table. He moved back into his thinking position, as if he had done nothing. The others stared at his contribution.

"I-is that... is that a hand, Aleksei?" the thin man asked with a panicky quaver in his voice.

Indeed, it was a hand, or something that might have been a hand an untold number of years ago. Dried and shriveled, it was as frail as it was ancient. It had six digits: two opposable thumbs and four long, spindly fingers that were nearly uniform in length. It looked as if it could crumble to dust and blow away given the slightest provocation.

"Hm," said Aleksei, clearing his throat. "I'm sure you all remember my expedition to Fere and that, once a suitable specimen was found, the left hand must have snapped off and gotten lost in transit. Bumbling, inexperienced assistants were blamed at the time, but it appears to have been in my coat the whole time. Silly me. Afraid I'll lose my head next."

Everyone was staring at Aleksei in disbelief, except for Alya, who had not taken her gaze off of the jar. Her eyes gleamed as she stared at the disgusting little appendage. Aleksei smiled back at them, saying nothing further.

"Did-," said the large, bald man began. A little frown of confusion and concern creased his aging face, forming a deep wrinkle across his forehead. "Did you plan this, Aleksei?"

Aleksei shrugged slightly. "I have never believed that the dithering bureaucrats and fussier moralists of the scientific community proper would ever let us do this, Bernd. They were content to let me putter around Fere as long as they thought my motivations were for harmless research. If they had known that I had cloning in mind, I'm sure that would have been another matter entirely."

If possible, Bernd's wrinkle deepened even further. "I'm not sure what to make of this, Aleksei," his deep voice rumbled quietly. "This sort of thing has led others down dark, dark paths before." He stared deeply into Aleksei's eyes, seeking an answer to an unvoiced question.

"I know you despise deceit, Bernd, and I'm sorry that it had to come to that," Aleksei said contritely. "And it's true that cloning technology has been deeply misused in the past. However, and I cannot stress this enough, technology is neither naturally good nor evil. It can be used to create the greatest of goods or the foulest of evils. It's incredibly foolish to immediately condemn something just because it has fallen into the wrong hands before."

Bernd seemed mull this over for a moment before he nodded slightly. Some of the doubt left his face, though he still appeared thoughtful.

"Aleksei," Alya said in an awe-struck tone, her eyes still rooted to the jar. "I could kiss you for this." Unnoticed by the others, Amani quickly averted her eyes, a pink tinge spreading over her fair cheeks and ears.

Aleksei grinned and said, "Tempting, but not necessary."

"How are we going to do this, Aleksei?" Amani asked in a tiny voice. She was still looking away, her cheeks still rosier than usual.

He said, "I'm very glad you asked that, Amani. It's an important question." He cleared his throat and began in a very serious tone, "But before I can really comment on it, something needs to be made very clear. If any of you, any of you at all, are having any second thoughts about this now, please speak up. The proposal I am about to make has some very strict guidelines. We need one hundred percent loyalty, one hundred percent trust, one hundred percent dedication. Doubts will be the downfall of us all. So, let's get the unpleasantries out of the way. Obviously, I'm in."

"I'm in," Alya said. The words came so quickly, they nearly blurred together.

"In," echoed Amani without even a pause.

Bernd, the large man, eyed Amani with a curious look in his eye. Averting his gaze, he gave a long, tired sigh and said, "Might as well be in. It's not like I've got anywhere else to go. Besides, can't have any of you kids getting yourselves hurt." He chuckled slightly, though the sound was awkward.

The thin man remained silent. "Carwyn?" Alya asked him.

Carwyn looked up nervously, his pale, sweaty face taking several seconds to stare at each of his comrades. He opened his mouth to speak, shut it, opened it again, and finally snapped it shut again. After another moment, he looked up at Aleksei, whose face was impassive. "I-I," Carwyn tried to speak. "Y-you have to understand. I-I... I wasn't there with you all when you made the original p-pr-proposal. They don't know me." His lips twitched slightly. "I have a wife. We want kids someday. I just. I just can't."

Aleksei walked over to Carwyn and placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it an encouraging squeeze. "Of course I understand," he said gently. "You know, it means you're a very strong person, to choose love over duty."

"That's right!" Amani cried, trying to help. "I don't think poorly of your choice, Carwyn. It's very romantic." Alya scoffed, but when she noticed the slightly wounded look this gave her sister, she managed to cover it up with a few unconvincing coughs.

"No bad blood?" Aleksei asked Carwyn.

Carwyn nodded slowly. "Yeah," he said quietly. "Yeah," he repeated, a little louder and more certainly. "No bad blood."

"That's good," Aleksei said, patting Carwyn's shoulder where he had squeezed. "Well, I suppose this is goodbye, Carwyn. It was very nice knowing you, and I regret that we may never meet again."

Carwyn nodded timidly, refusing to meet anybody's eyes. "Yeah. I'm sorry, everyone. I'll just let myself out." He stood and walked off until the security camera could no longer see him, his footsteps the only thing breaking the oppressive silence. The sound of an automatic door rising soon followed.

"Wait," Alya piped up. There was another moment of silence. "If anyone comes to you to ask about us, you have to swear that you are entirely ignorant of any of this, even the tiniest detail, Eligio. You can't breathe a word of this to anyone."

"Of course," Carwyn answered gravely. "I swear it on my life." After a moment, the footsteps resumed. The whirr of the automatic door sounded out again, and Carwyn Eligio was gone.

Aleksei coughed. He straightened himself up and said, "We're pressed for time. To business. You're all aware that I have a..." He paused, searching for the proper thing to say. "Respectable amount of money, left to me as the sole heir of my family. We will use that to fund ourselves. Alya," he said, turning to the woman. "You know why I asked you to move TGE Inc. headquarters, to set it up where I recommended?"

Alya nodded. "I thought you proposed it for privacy. That's why I ordered the new premises built. Nobody asks questions there. It would be easy to work without spies or meddlers. But now..." A tiny smile danced at her lips. "That was only part of it, wasn't it? You knew if the proposal sunk, TGE Inc. would be closed without hesitation. That's why you never mentioned the move at the meeting."

"Exactly," Aleksei said. "We will leave for the new location as soon as I finish addressing these points. Now that the location and funds are non-issues, that leaves us with the tricky parts. Normally the delicate procedures we will attempt would be a job for a large staff. Obviously, we do not have that luxury. Additionally, we will need to acquire things over the course of our efforts: new equipment in case anything is accidentally broken and of course the usual provisions like food, clothing, and water."

"How will we get any of those things?" Bernd asked gruffly.

Aleksei smiled obligingly. "That, actually, is why I asked you not to attend the meeting with us. I didn't want anybody to get a good look at you. Bernd, I hoped you would be the one who would be willing to travel to acquire these necessities. You look like a very respectable, distinguished gentleman, not the sort who would participate in anything illegal. You would be absolutely perfect for the job. If you would rather not, I'd understand, but it will make things more difficult."

Bernd shrugged. "Well... I suppose it's fine. It would give me a chance to get some fresh air every now and again, anyway. That sort of thing's important, you know." He grinned, and it was moderately convincing. "'Respectable, distinguished gentleman', huh? You're calling me an old man, you polite bastard."

Aleksei laughed. "I was trying to pay you a compliment! Now, any more questions?"

"Ah," Amani began. She was turning pink again. "I, ah," she swallowed. "Why are we recording this, if I may ask? And-and when we get where we're headed, will we always be recorded, too? Because," she paused, the pink in her face darkening. Her blush seemed to become directly proportional to the strength of her voice. The more vibrantly red the color turned, the meeker her voice became. "Sometimes, you know, there are certain, uh, certain times when cameras shouldn't be involved in people's lives and... and..." At that moment, her voice faded away into a tiny sqeak and her face became absolute scarlet at the same time.

Aleksei waved his hands in a reassuring gesture of denial. "Oh, no, no. Don't worry, Amani. The only places that will have cameras will be common areas. Where we work, where we eat, where we talk - that sort of thing. Private areas will remain just that. Now, as to why we need the recordings in the first place. Given the strenuous and stifling nature of our upcoming project, I would not be surprised at all if arguments broke out and tempers flared. With the surveillance, we have absolute objectivity. It only shows the truth, it can't be warped by biased perspective. Very handy for diffusing tense disagreements."

Bernd shrugged. "Fair enough," he said. He stood, stretching and groaning as he did so. "I'm going to get ready for this new life of yours."

"Ah, good idea, Bernd. I think I'll do the same," Amani said as she stood up. Though her voice was back and her face was not nearly as dramatically red as before, she was still far from composed. It was the little things - her posture, the way her eyes moved around without destination, how she fidgeted slightly - that made it quite clear she was not leaving to prepare so much as she was trying to escape her own embarrassment. As they left, she trailed behind Bernd like a wake behind a barge.

So Alya and Aleksei were left alone. After a moment, Aleksei appeared as if he, too, were ready to leave. "Wait," Alya said.

Aleksei turned back to her, a blond eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"You had a reason why you didn't want Bernd with us during the proposal. You didn't want Carwyn with us, either. What was the reason behind that?" She fixed her ice blue eyes on him. "And don't give me a dodge answer like 'I just felt like it'. You never 'just feel like' anything. It's against your nature."

Aleksei relaxed, shrugged, and said, "It was the poor man's nerves. I knew that it was already highly unlikely that we would succeed, but Carwyn's eternally nervous presence would have just made matters worse for us." He paused, looking thoughtful. "Though, in retrospect, it's rather amazing your sister was able to keep a straight face throughout the presentation."

Alya smirked at him. "It's not the project itself that sets off her awkward side. Surely you've picked up on that."

Aleksei's only answer was a shy little smirk of his own.

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