The Plan: Part 1 Read online

  Halva’s mother – only ever worked as a department store shop girl – stopped working as her husband’s career quickly eclipsed hers in stature and salary. She was a housewife when he physically began beating her. She hid her bruises under long sleeves, high-necked clothing and wore a cheery disposition which served doubly as a smooth façade few neighbors would find suspect. Nothing was wrong, as long as she presented a smile at the door to the dinner guests they sometimes chose to host, which was not often.

  Then Halva happened. A mistake, Halva caught her father mumbling once in a drunken stupor on the couch. You were a mistake and don’t you forget it.

  He raised his glassy eyes to her as the words burned in her ears. And he never let her forget it. She was five when she first heard him say it. The words broke her heart. When he started to hit her, too, she finally did one thing different than her mother. She did not stay.

  Griesen scanned her chart readings. There were data points that illustrated when she had run away from home and when she decided, at thirteen, never to return. It hadn't taken her long to do so; she had only known intense misery, never happiness.

  One line graph displayed her emotive timeline – her age when she had turned emotionally inwards, to protect herself, namely, from the abuse of her father. She was more than just strong-headed; she became resourceful because she had to be. With nobody to turn to, she relied on her wits to get ahead; find work; and work hard.

  She was arrested for numerous misdemeanors as a teenager; caught once for shoplifting. She turned her back on her family. She was a precocious child who didn't have time for education; education and time spent in school didn't feed her empty stomach, which was the first and foremost matter of concern. And she certainly didn't need adults in her life who were making her miserable. At the core of her, she burned with an anger – an anger borne from neglect and abuse.

  Halva sprung from a few odd jobs here and there until she landed at Edith's doorstep for the catering job at the Silver Spoon. It advertised for part-time only; but at that point she didn't care. She needed something; and something fast.

  She noticed the sign, pinned up, nearly buried under all the other new notices in the local coffee shop. It was new, though. She knew, because she was looking at that board every day when she went to use the washroom. She could usually slip in and jimmy the lock fast though, when the lines were long and the baristas hardly looked up from the long line of double-shot lattes and low-fat soy-almond concoctions that bleary-eyed customers queued for.

  It was her second week – or was it her third? Running away from home. Hot tears filled her eyes momentarily, remembering the sharp thud of the encyclopedia hitting her head. Her father – again, in a fit of rage, had hurled it at her.

  She had come back for a few things and she’d tried to get in undetected, but she’d grossly miscalculated her entry - her father had been right there, sitting on the living room couch, surrounded by half-empty bottles. Beer? She didn’t have time to guess. As usual, her mother remained, hidden in the kitchen, never coming out even as her father started screaming at her.

  The bump on her head was the size of a softball. It branded her like a hot iron. There wasn’t a reason for her to go back anymore. She hated him beyond measure. And her mother…why her mother continued to stay with him was no longer a question she asked. Or why she never protected Halva from his atrocities.

  Her home was a war zone with landmines she couldn’t see; explosives that detonated with a hair’s breadth. Halva’s faith in her family had been tattered long ago, at one end by her father, the violent instigator, and her mother, the silent woman who only wrung her hands and continued to cook and clean as if nothing happened, somehow permanently transported into her unbreakable bubble of denial.

  I am the problem. Because I am, they can’t love me.

  Halva was left to fend for herself; on her own.

  She didn’t know who she hated more – herself or them. Most of the time, she preferred to keep running. It was better than asking the questions she didn’t have the answers to.

  CHAPTER 4

  THE ACRUVAE INSTITUTE

  This was the last class before graduation. The excitement in the air was palpable; engulfing everyone.

  You have to search for a gap.

  The words appeared in the middle of the room where the fifty Acruvae students were levitating slightly above the floor. Their levitation signalled the degree of focus they were holding as they sat. Their translucent tunics shimmered with varying colors.

  Dierne rapped her knuckles on her lectern, attempting to quiet the students who hummed with excited chatters. “My dears!” she said sternly. “You’re all so close, but not close enough. You still need to get through my class today. A bit of a final review before you’re officially sent off.” Her slate-grey eyes glanced over her soon-to-be-graduates.

  Where have you been? Gretchen was telepathing him. She was his best friend. He could tell she sounded worried.

  Her brunette curls shifted slightly as she glanced at him. You haven’t been in class – what’s going on?

  He looked at her quickly, taking a moment. It had been a week and a half since he had been assigned.

  I had to catch up, he telepathed back to her. I…missed a core unit of the Gaia training module. But Master Thames caught it in time. She told me it had to get done. It was a blatant lie, one that he hoped she wouldn’t catch. Master Thames had coached him extensively through all fifty-five modules. All modules had to be passed prior to graduation.

  She only nodded, this time without glancing at him. All good?

  Yeah. He was slightly relieved; she’d bought his lie.

  Which one?

  He thought quickly. Human emotion.

  That one took me the longest to pass. Humans are complicated. So starved for love.

  “Yeah.” Griesen inadvertently said it out loud, causing Dierne to glance at him.

  She called on him. “Griesen.”

  Oops.

  “Thoughts?” She paused, waiting for him.

  Griesen glanced again at the words. You have to search for a gap.

  “You are referring to the ephemeral gap. The gap in the psyche… that we need to find in their consciousness.”

  Diane corrected him. “Close. In their unconscious mind.”

  Griesen stopped, berating himself for a moment. How had he missed that? His levitating body nearly dropped to the ground before he duly recovered. “Sorry...”

  She shook her head. “Go on,” she said.

  He was silent for a moment before speaking. “The Human mind often cannot contemplate what their unconscious is driving towards. As they operate with their unconscious mind in full control, there is no hope. They are simply being carried away through their subconscious framework. Our job – is to spot the gap, for those willing to do the work. Help open it for them.”

  The gap was the adjunct between the conscious and unconscious mind. For nine friels, the methods of bridging the chasm were applied, tested and modified countlessly amongst the thousands of graduates who came through the doors of the Institute.

  “We need to leverage off that gap, expand it. Create the bridge,” he continued.

  In the current school of thought around bridging, gaps existed through the course of a Human’s lifeline. The graduates had to be cognizant enough to identify the gaps as they were monitoring their case studies. The gaps did not come easily. They were rare moments that sometimes lasted hours, or weeks - and arose naturally through their case’s natural proclivities. The doors opened and then shut. It was their job to spot the open door, and hold it open, for as long as they could...

  “We need to be as still and patient as possible, as they – the Earthlings – remain unconscious.” He frowned again at this point. “The gap requires our leverage. All our energy. It can take sometimes forever in a human’s lifetime to spot.”

  And indeed, there were cases – many cases - where graduates had stayed with their su
bjects for their whole lifetime without ever successfully opening a gap. The next Sol cycle, then. But the real question was always whether they would run out of energy before the next gap could be detected. If they could afford to wait that long.

  Dierne interjected here. “This is where all your education comes into play. The human perception of time is limited to their consciousness; when it begins, at birth, and when it ends, at death. Little do humans understand how their Souls are recycled to start anew if the gaps are not resolved in their current lifetime.”

  She continued. “For yourselves as Graduates, you understand the risks of failure… and yet you understand that only through risk and patience can you gain the opportunity of success. This is a long road… use your wisdom. Spend your energy wisely.” Her words were a voice of reason and a subtle warning.

  Dierne was referring to their primary form of currency – energy. At the graduation ceremony, they would be equipped with one orb installed with enough energy units which would last them one Friel – equivalent to one hundred Humans years, down on Gaia.

  Once the energy was expended, they would need to go through energy renewal. They all understood that Renewal was tricky. It involved rigorous Council review and every renewal case had to be green-lit by the Institute’s Energy Brokerage. Going through the brokerage was a difficult process, one that became more difficult with every Friel that passed. Rumor had it nobody who went there past the fifth Friel ever came out.

  She broke the silence which followed her words. “Anya,” she said, flitting her eyes over to the sleeping girl. He saw Dierne frown. It was never a good sign.

  Anya was two rows left of Griesen, slumped on the ground.

  Anya. Griesen stopped himself from rolling his eyes. Rumor had it her Father had bribed somebody in Council with a significant amount of energy units to get her into the Institute. He could believe it as he hadn’t seen anyone who ever slept as much as she did in class, and get away with it.

  He saw her jolt upright at the teacher’s sharp tone.

  Dierne pointed her finger to the words that hovered in the middle of the room. The words now changed to an image of a lone burning candle.

  “As you bridge, how is this concept important?”

  Anya abruptly jolted two inches off the floor. “Well, the bridging is the process of connecting the conscious and unconscious mind,” she said quickly.

  “And?”

  Anya seemed to struggle for more words, her tunic turning a bright shade of pink. “We - we need to help them find greater love…and acceptance through the bridging process.”

  Dierne nodded. “A Human life progresses in a directional nature. They will navigate either towards greater love or live in greater fear as a result of what they experience in their lives. This is your duty, to affect their direction. To quote a human proverb, when you light a candle, you also cast a shadow.”

  She glanced around the room. “Don’t snuff yours out.”

  There were a few titters from the room.

  “Bridging – is the finest achievement that you soon-to-be-graduates would have achieved with these Humans. When you have managed to elevate the Human case with a new level of consciousness – you will have achieved something very few graduates would have succeeded at.”

  The fifty-five modules held countless hours of rigorous training which, upon graduation, enabled the Graduates to aid their Human cases in a successful bridging scenario.

  In most cases, Bridging failed when the Human gave up too soon, or failed to pick up on the cues or guidance provided by the Acruvae to make further progress – what Humans often viewed as coincidences.

  Many students would fail – that was simply the statistic that held steadfast for countless human centuries. She was referring to their endgame. The successful act of bridging allowed for what the Humans termed Enlightenment. This was the fusion, the success she was referring to. It was the ultimate test of their ability. The end game was to harness the ascensionist energies that resulted.

  They needed that energy. For survival.

  Dierne’s pupils dilated suddenly. Her last words were directed at the students telepathically: Good luck and journey well.

  A gentle chime filled the air. Streams of green flashed through the room, signaling the end of class. Commencement ceremonies would begin shortly.

  Griesen and the rest of the class dropped to the ground, a bright rainbow of yellow-blue-green colors shimmering from their tunics. For a class set soon to graduate, they streamed from the classroom uniformly and quietly, most of them returning home to ready for the ceremonial undertakings.

  The celebrations would ensue within a few hours; a grand spectacle that marked the start of a new season of life for all of them. Griesen was excited as the rest of them; but he also knew it was the beginning of their longest journey yet. He had been warned by Master Thames that he would most likely never to see his classmates again over the next Friel. They were about to embark on a long game that only few of them would emerge victorious from.

  Griesen hung back for a few moments, letting others slide by him.

  “You have a question, Griesen?” Dierne asked, smiling at him.

  His eyes continued to watch the words which were now dissolving on the board.

  “I do,” he said. He liked Dierne; she was one of his favorite teachers. He was filled with questions, so many more since the council incident. “The Sols…” he searched for his words. He wanted to ask her, without letting too much on about what had happened back at the council chambers. Ana. He remembered how quickly she had reprimanded Damus.

  “We are usually assigned to Humans who have only gone through the first or second Sol iteration, correct? So is it possible that we are assigned to Humans who are on a later Sol? Say… a fourth or fifth Sol?”

  He was ruminating over Damus’ comment from the council meeting. It worried him, if that were the case. Humans on a later Sol revolution were harder to bridge. With every additional Sol cycle, humans became so much more cynical; more disbelieving of miracles and coincidences. He needed to bridge successfully. Not only to achieve Human enlightenment and capture the energy emanating from it, but then to find the answers about his parents. Answers that couldn’t be found anywhere here. The answers were down on Gaia. He felt it as strongly as ever before.

  She looked at him oddly.

  “No. New graduates such as yourself – we wouldn’t give you cases past the first Sol.” She straightened her posture. “We simply give you the tools. You’ve worked with every one of them. It is up to you.” She walked up to him then, as the room started dimming and shutting itself down.

  It was a mandatory Institute policy; they had to save power wherever they could. The policy had come into effect a few Friels ago.

  She brought her hands to his shoulders, her grey eyes turning violet, looking right into his.

  “You’ll have to learn to trust yourself. Do you?”

  He swallowed as he nodded at her. “I do. Thank you.” Then he turned his eyes away, not wanting her to read into his thoughts.

  He walked out the door, seeing Gretchen waiting for him in the hallway. But wait. He wanted to ask one more thing. He held up a hand, gesturing to her. Wait one minute.

  She nodded in return, but he could see her tapping her foot in impatience.

  As he returned to the classroom, the door was slightly ajar. He approached it, his hand ready to knock, as he heard her speaking to someone on the hologram. Her back was turned to him as he heard another voice.

  “…it could raise suspicion,” the voice on the other end said. The voice was somewhat raspy; a man’s deep timbre.

  “Well, you’d best make sure you’re all doing your job,” Dierne snapped in retort. She raised her voice. “I will only provide you notice as their teacher. You’d better get a good handle this.”

  He unmistakeably caught the tone of venom in her voice. He’d never heard her use that tone on anyone before… not even when the students had been
as frustrating as Anya.

  “I will not be doing anything else for your so-called requirements, I’ve told you that many times.” Dierne hissed out her last words.

  Who was she talking to? The voice returned a muffled comment. It sounded as if the transmission was being disconnected.

  Griesen backed away quietly, startled at the sudden anger in her voice. Was he just becoming excessively paranoid, or did it seem as if everybody now had something to hide? Another story he wasn’t being told?

  He bit his lip, fighting the urge to tell Gretchen – but his inner voice warned against breaking Institute policies so early on. He remembered Ana’s anger, how she had so easily punished Damus. It would be better for him to just work on his Case and have a legitimate reason for staying down on Gaia. Bridging would give him enough energy to find out about what happened to his parents. All the clues up here had lead to nothing. He wouldn’t be stopped now - this was the only way, he thought as he walked quickly towards his friend.

  That night, Griesen dreamt.

  Three friels ago

  Griesen was assigned his first practice case early on during the Institute’s training module. Alejandro. He had almost made it. Almost… in that he had crossed a small bridge. Born into a family stricken with poverty, drugs and emotional abuse, he had chosen escapism at 18. He lived a drug-addled lifestyle yet despite it, he managed to carve out a meagre living as an artist creating strongly minimalistic works which exhibited in museums across Europe.