The Amber Project

Chapter 2

  Hey guys. This is the second chapter of a novel I wrote a few months ago. It is available in full on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iBooks, Kobo, Create Space, and Smashwords. I'll be posting several chapters here. If you would like to get the full novel for free (which is also compatible with kindle, nook, and any e-reader you might have), you can get it here: http://jnchaney.com/stay-up-to-date


The sequel to this novel comes out in March. I'd love to hear what you guys think of the story. :)



  

Documents of Historical, Scientific, and Cultural Significance

Play Audio File 109

Subtitled: Re: Cheer Up

To: SE_Pepper

Recorded February 20, 2174

CARTWRIGHT: I wish I shared your optimism, Sasha. I really do. But the sad truth of the matter is that there is no going back. We've spent the last two decades trying to figure out a way to fix what's happened, to pull ourselves out of this tomb, but we still have nothing to show for it.

We need to accept our fate. We're never leaving this city. It's been decades since the gas came, but nothing's changed. There's still no word from the outside, no responses to the hundreds of transmissions I've sent out into the void. The six hundred surviving humans in this cave of a city are all that's left. No one else is out there. No one here is leaving. As far as our species goes, this is it. We're at the end of the line. The planet's dead and rotting, and the rest of us are waiting in the grave.

End Audio File

April 14, 2339

Central

Mara boarded the platform and waited for the train to arrive. Now that Terrance had been dropped off, it was on to the mothers' lounge. A few minutes on the A line and she'd be there. Can't be fast enough, she thought.

Metal clanked against the rails, echoing through the station, followed by a veil of dust that seemed to cover everything. It was coming from a set of vents nestled high above the train line. A group of contractors dangled nearby like puppets on strings, shouting and laughing as they worked. One of them kept hitting the side of the vent with his wrench, scattering wave after wave of dust with each loud smack.

Everyone called it the purifying season, though it was hardly a season at all—more like a month of air purification coupled with manual routine maintenance on several of the major systems. The whole process used to only take a week or two, but thanks to recent problems in other parts of the city, including an ongoing quarantine over in the slums, the contractors were spread pretty thin.

Still, the purifying season had its silver lining. Most of the mothers rarely had a chance to meet any men, especially when it came to the contractors and soldiers, who spent the bulk of their time in Central. But with the annual repairs came potential contracts. The season didn't last very long, so if a mother didn't pick a sponsor now, it meant she'd have to file for one later through the official channels, and nobody wanted to do that. It might take anywhere from three to six months, all with the possibility of a rejection letter. If a mother met a sponsor in person, it became much easier to persuade him to sign his seed away.

If a mother got lucky enough to land one of the level-9 contractors, a high ranking soldier, or (God-willing) a council member, it could change everything. A contract like that meant prestige and higher living, but more importantly, it meant a seed with a future, not just some other worker in the factories.