[Source...](https://pixabay.com/photos/jewelry-necklace-pendant-chain-6496898/)Part 11 (A Parents' Secret): Recap
Amos closed his eyes. Vapors surrounded him as his body stiffened.
At least they are safe from the mind altering drugs that kept ordinary citizens unaware under control, were his last thoughts as life floated from his consciousness. Amos remained curled in a fetal position. It can't get any worse than this, he thought, writhing in pain.
Annetta leaned close to Benetiz. "We've got to get Amos out of here. Did you notice the guard impart something to Cunnelda? The shock on her face was priceless. Something's amiss. I feel within my being that Amos is a part of it in some odd way."
But they could do nothing as handcuffs prevented their movements in his direction. Matchov shoved the weapon between Annetta and Benetiz. "Stand back. No talking, and make ready to move from this location." he ordered.
Other guards picked Julius up from the ground and tossed him like a rag doll into the military transport vehicle. Orders for the others to follow rang out.
When all protestors were secured in the military transport, guards slammed the door shut.
No light. No seating. And barely enough fresh air filtered through the vehicle as it raced along the road toward a secure ICO location that housed other dissenters throughout the years.
With the help of a guard, Amos sat upright on the ground. Groggy though awake, images floated through his mind of seeing military vehicles depart from the area. Stretching his neck in both directions, he searched for Annetta, Julius and Benetiz.
Cunnelda stood with her hands clasp squarely on her hips, lips curled in a sneer mingled with a half laugh studying the vehicle's movement away from the holding area near the protestors' meeting place in the warehouse. She pointed toward the warehouse. "This dilapidated place is useless. Make sure it won't be used again in opposition to our leader," she ordered.
Guards immediately returned to their vehicles. Within minutes, the warehouse was reduced to rubble. Cunnelda stared blankly beyond its walls to the accolades next to her name once her report was submitted to ICO. Turning, she scrutinized Amos. What an exciting ending to the day, she exclaimed!. But she kept the next thought to herself.
Won't mom and dad be surprised at the latest development.
As though she could read her oldest daughter's thoughts, Hannah Goodall grasp her chest and heaved heavily, a tear forming as she stood next to the window enforced with steel bars staring out over the courtyard. The mysterious ICO medical facility housing an indeterminate number of elderly citizens granted a limited view of their surroundings. A prison setting disguised. No more, no less.
"Why haven't they visited?" she asked slowly, her speech slurred from years of illness due to lack of proper medical attention. A hand touched her neck as her husband, Walter, approached and stood behind her, gathering her to his chest, then placing his head on her shoulder.
"I have no answer, dear," he reminded her in a thick and unsteady voice for the untold number of times. But he must have patience and not become upset. Sunken eyes, an abundance of flesh forming on her face now surrounded by thin, and silver strands that hung past her shoulders.
"Perhaps they are unable to else...". Her voice trailed off.
"Now stop talking like that. Our children understand how to maneuver through the ICO and keep themselves safe. Especially Cunnelda and that cunning husband of hers. If anyone survives, it will be her. Survival of the richest, remember."
Deep down, he wanted to laugh had the moment been years earlier when ICO first arrived. But their situation over the past five years was now dire. His hands gripped his wife's shoulders, more to brace himself than to assure her.
Hannah continued. "But what if Amos is captured and taken in for tests?" I'm scared for him, Walter." Wringing her hands, she turned toward her husband and peered deeply into his eyes.
"We thought we could protect our baby boy forever. How foolish!" Hannah's hands flew up and covered her face as tears flowed freely.
Now, Part 12: (One In a Hundred Million)
Meanwhile, at another undisclosed location, after several long moments measuring, adding ingredients one drop at a time, then twirling the flask between his thumb, Viktor Popov jerked a sharp breath. He watched with anticipation as the liquid slowly separated from its plasma.
Ten years and millions of citizens the head researcher had meticulously investigated and documented in an attempt to identify the mutated virus strain.
His head jerked in the direction of Loomey, the lab technician busy at work across the room on an unrelated DNA sequence project.
"Grab records from ICO North for this year." A slow smile soon gained speed before continuing, "hand me the two-way field broadcaster." Viktor's orders shot from his mouth rapidly now.
As soon as Loomey held up the file marked "Classified", Viktor swung his lanky frame around, grabbed his cane, and hobbled toward him; his starched, white coat floating behind.
"What specifically are you looking for, sir?" Loomey spied his supervisor with keen interest before quickly averting his gaze.
"Humanoid male. Aged 50 to 60," Viktor replied hastily. He'd no time to explain. His pulse raced as the implication of his find dawned on him. He didn't want to divulge his findings, but did pause to add, "cells from this specimen are the rarest I've encountered." Pride in his accomplishment urged him to divulge his findings. However, he dared not release his findings until he'd reported to ICO Headquarters.
Viktor stared at Loomey before emitting a wry smile. Bewildered, Loomey shook his head, then extended his arm. The fragment of life, Viktor repeated internally as he grabbed the confidential file. Why can't ICO provide travel assistance to its employees, he thought with a veiled eye roll as he walked haphazardly with the aid of his walking stick back to his office stationed on the far west end of the secure compound.
Interdisciplinary Consortium Orbit's (ICO) Research Center. Located in the northernmost part of the hemisphere where the weather was coldest, it was mockingly called the "Silver Otherworld Watchtower", some suspected that humans were being manufactured or "cloned" to replace them. Hence, the detention of millions of citizens. The Brigade of Clones was readily accepted at the research center's name. The central hub of all activity for molecular diagnostics.
Built within a year after the ICO arrived, every element of the stark gray massive compound with fifty individual buildings was crafted and created with exceptional materials from unknown suppliers, ensuring the facility would continue beyond any of its citizens lifetimes. With its gray granite walls, Silver Otherworld Watchtower possesses a spine-chilling atmosphere, with its main attraction, the sophisticated guard tower structure, tall enough to view the entire hemisphere. Watchtower suited its nickname.
Its position in society was cemented as the premier authority on advancing the hemisphere's universal knowledge and equip citizens with resources for future advancement.
What the heck that meant to the million ordinary people is still to this day unclear. To Amos and the dissenters, it signaled trouble for mankind controlled by the Silver Coin.
Passing his assistant's desk, he shielded the file and continued into his office without his usual compliment and polite conversation. Her back was turned away from her supervisor, but sensing his presence as usual, she immediately glanced in his direction, but couldn't determine the object he was attempting to conceal.
Plopping down in his desk chair, he grabbed the speaker phone. Understanding the implication, he surveyed the room as if suspecting it unsafe. His pulse beat rapidly as he spoke in hushed tones, rushing to impart the breakthrough his company had been searching for.
"I've identified the DNA marker, XICO99 and the human. One in several hundred million. I can go no further. The next step is yours. I need the human's tissue for the final test. Then, we'll discuss this more."
Viktor waited for a response.
But none came.
Frowning, he stared into the communication device. Immediately, the screen flashed blank and stared back as if officially dismissing him. What the hell! Viktor shouted, fuming he'd been disconnected from headquarters.
"Alexis, get in here this moment. My intercom has malfunctioned!" he shouted.
"Sir, there's nothing wrong with the equipment. I'm still connected," his long-time secretary assured him.
Viktor started to respond, but paused as he watched her step back, but not toward the door. Instead, she moved to the opposite side of the room, her head cocked.
"What the hell is this?" he questioned, completely unaware that Alexis was allowed to tap into his conversation, and that his part in ICO's master plan had come to an end.
"I need security...Immediately," she shouted into the wall's intercom. Within minutes, two ICO security officers burst through the door, lazer weapons pointed at Viktor's head.
Slowly, the realization materialized as he overheard Alexis. "Loomey, you've been promoted."
No sooner than Viktor placed the file down on his desk, the sea green light faded in his Silver Coin. His body slumped across the desk.
Alexis smiled as she moved toward Viktor. Lifting his arm from the folder, she gathered up the papers, placed them in the folder, tucked the folder under her arm, and retreated behind the protection of the officers. Just in case.
Moments later, Loomey arrived. Alexis passed the folder to him. Without a word, he backed out of the door and disappeared down the long hall of secrets, turned the corner, input his access code, and stepped into the laboratory.
"It's done." Loomey cast a wicked smile at Alexis as he spoke into the phone with finality.
"The human will be delivered to you by tomorrow," the voice on the other end declared.
[to be continued]
18 December 2024, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2590: fragment of life
28 January 2025, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2630: implication
26 January 2025, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2628: kick him harder
29 January 2025, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2631: discuss this more
4 february 2025, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2637: mysterious clinic
5 february 2025, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2638: Did you authorise this?
20 february 2025, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2653: survival of the richest
If you'd like to return to the beginning of my series, here are the previous parts:
**Part 9: (Uninvited Guests At the Rebellion)**
**Part 10 (The Unexpected Confrontation)**
SOURCES:
a) JustClickindiva's Footer created in Canva utilizing its free background and images used with permission from discord admins.
b) Unless otherwise noted, all photos taken by me with my (i) Samsung Galaxy 10" Tablet, (ii) Samsung Phone, & (iii) FUJI FinePix S3380 - 14 Mega Pixels Digital Camera
c) Purple Butterfly part of purchased set of Spiritual Clip Art for my Personal Use
d) All Community logos, banners, page dividers used with permission of Discord Channel admins.
e) Ladies of Hive banner used with permission of and in accordance with the admin's guidelines
f) Thumbnail Image created by me in Canva.
g) "Flames." What is Apophysis 2.09. https://flam3.com/
1 What is Stable Diffusion? StarryAI.Com. Online at: https://starryai.com/stable-diffusion