The Amber Project

Chapter 3

Amber Project File Logs

Play Audio File 187

To: Ava_Long, William_Archer

Recorded February 12, 2327

BISHOP: We can't just sit around underground like a bunch of gophers, sticking our heads out every few decades to see if anything's changed. This city's falling apart. It seems like every morning I'm getting briefed about another riot, a gas leak, some broken maintenance systems, or a personnel shortage. I'm tired of it. Human beings were never meant to live in a bottle forever.

I'm giving Archer the go ahead for phase one. It's about time we got the ball rolling on this project. Ava, I'm requesting a list of candidates—send me your best mothers. The children will need to be at the peak of what we can manufacture, which means following the AGP to the letter—no exceptions or special treatment. Archer, let me know what else you need to finish your work. I'll try to send you some extra help, at least what I can spare, but it won't be much. I'm still running a school after all.

End Audio File

April 15, 2339

The Academy, Central

The auditorium was the biggest room Terry had ever seen. The walls, comprised mostly of large white tiles, stretched up a dozen feet. Blue mats covered most of the floor, except for the areas closest to the walls. The only piece of furniture was a single podium, which sat a few feet away, close to the entrance.

Terry stood beside John near the center of the room, facing the podium. They were standing about, all the boys and girls, at least a few dozen. Several men—soldiers, John had called them—stood motionless around the walls, facing the children. "Line up in rows of six," said one soldier. "Wait there and be quiet."

Wait for what? Terry wondered. None of the soldiers gave a reason, but Terry could tell it was important. With so many men in the room, it had to be.

"Hey," whispered John. "Whatcha think? Maybe they'll tell us what's going on."

Terry shrugged. "I hope they tell us more about school or something."

"Yeah, one of the girls said that's what it's for."

"One of the girls?"

"There," he said, leaning and pointing down the line. "That one on the end."

Terry bent forward to look. There weren't very many girls in their group, so he spotted her easily. He noticed her skin right away—a golden shade of brown—and her shiny black hair hung gently from her head to her waist. She looked very serious—a narrow brow, her eyes focused and staring toward the door behind the podium.

"Her name's Mei," John said.

"What else did she say?" Terry asked.

"Not much. I only got to talk to her for a second or two when we were standing outside." John paused, looking around. "I think I hear something."

They both grew silent and listened. Sure enough, there was a rumbling sound, like doors slamming one after another in the distance. And it was getting louder.

"What is that?" asked one of the boys behind Terry.

But there was no time for an answer. Instead, the doors beyond the podium crashed open, and a line of soldiers entered. As they filed in from the outer hall, the soldiers took up positions surrounding the podium. They faced the children and slammed their feet against the floor. Their bodies were stiff, and their chests pressed out, with arms gripping both their sides. They looked like plastic toys.