Chapter 1
Daidron sits in the ‘97 Astro, binoculars in one hand, holding a burrito with the other. His supply of canned food in the back is slowly disappearing, and the horrid smell of all of the meals contained stinks up the car. It has been 15 days since it all started, and it wasn’t getting close to an end. Guava juice sits in bulk behind the driver’s seat, Daidron’s favorite drink, leading to his nickname from his friends. Movement in the rearview mirror snaps Guava to attention, as he lifts the binoculars up to his eyes. A Bugatti Veyron pulls up into the driveway and a man in a suit is followed by a teenage boy in street clothes. Out of the trunk comes a briefcase, which the man takes gracefully as he turns to the boy. “Follow me,” Daidron hears through the parabolic microphone he has mounted on the house next door. The pair march through the front door, pausing for a second to knock. All of the microphones that are listening cannot hear this knock or anything that ensues. Something about the house is preventing Guava from gaining any idea as to what is happening inside.
Four backpacks have been lying next to the juice for the fifteen days now, waiting for their owners to return. They had all been driving home when his friend Jourman told him to stop the car. Everyone exited except for Guava, who was following Jourman’s instructions reluctantly: “Don’t follow us. If we don’t come out within half an hour, go get all of the canned food from your house, stock up on juice, and live out of your van across the street. We may or may not return within two weeks, and if we do not, you may forget we ever existed.” Daidron’s three friends grabbed identical briefcases and proceeded up to the door, knocking and entering. He had decided not to give up hope yet, as over the days, he had only become more interested in the activities that had come to pass. It seemed that every day, five to nine men in business suits walked in with identical briefcases followed by some kid in street clothes. No one had walked out of the door yet, but many had walked in.
Chapter 2
I can see Daidron so brightly. I can see his headphones around his neck, his earnest eyes prying deep into my soul. I can see his untucked shortsleeved button down shirt, his jeans, and finally his tennis shoes. I can hear his objections to my order as his jaw falls slightly open. I can hear his voice, now raspy, cutting into my heart. I can smell the pleasant odor of guava juice on his breath raising to my nose, and a slight smell of deodorant. I regret doing this to him as I pick up my briefcase and walk toward the house. He calls my name once in protest and tries to get me to come back: “Jourman! Don’t go in there!”
I bury my face in my hands, wishing I could go back to the time of my daydream. The computer beeps loudly, arousing me to attention. Guava stares almost directly at me, but he doesn’t see me. I worry that he has heard something, I may have hit the windshield. In horror, I rocket the drone out through the vents to avoid any detection. One problem, Guava is getting hot. He jets the A/C and the drone almost collides with one side of the duct, spinning out of control. Escape is necessary, I am slowly ascending toward the vent. Firing the thrusters, I maneuver the drone down into the tube, moving as if swimming through molasses. I make it out of the intake and fly the drone into the house, passing through the small hidden port that reminds me of the landing dock on the Death Star. When the drone’s feet touch down on the charging nodes, I close the program on my computer and walk to the port, checking my drone for dings through the microscope. Nothing at all. Then how did Guava notice I was there? I resolve that he didn’t, I was just seeing things, pointless things. For all I know he was just staring beyond me, clueless, or maybe thinking. Looking out the tinted front window of the house, I watch the van as Guava moves around, probably hoping to see through the window I stare at him from. There is no way I can go out until my trial is over, and from the way Guava has executed surveillance of the house, I know he will be accepted into the program automatically.
The drone was my surveillance test, an inaugural exam, for entry into the SurEspUs program, regarding Surveillance and Espionage for the United States, here at Tester Base. Daidron has also been constantly watched, as the reviewers observe his skills. He may think he is stealthy and no one knows he is there, but the host of microscopic drones that have flown into the car and filmed him can solidly prove against that.
I look out the one way mirror that is the front bay window, watching Guava shift in his van, jumping into the backseat, probably headed for a snack or guava juice.. “He can’t see me, nor will he ever,” I think to myself as I get onto the elevator. Pressing the button for floor thirty-two, the elevator plummets underground as soft elevator music plays. I know Guava is searching for a reason that so many people can fit into the house, and it is so simple. The house was here when the Testers bought it, and with several million dollars of soundproofing, they began their excavation project. Now the house descends more than 500 feet underground, bunks, labs, and banks of computers on all floors. I am headed to my quarters, where my other friends are probably awaiting their interviews with the Testers themselves. When I walk in, the room is like it always is, neat and tidy, beds made, clothes lying folded in our small dressers. Of course I am lying when I say this; we are a bunch of teenage boys, our beds are messy, our floor is mostly clean, but the area around our beds are strewn with socks and other clothes. Our hamper is crazy, overflowing as none of us wants to do the laundry. Hopefully we will be out of here today, I worry that Daidron will leave if we don’t. Suddenly, the giant red light bulb on our wall begins to flash silently, a small message printed on the board underneath: “Unidentified intruder, proceed to lockdown positions until further notice.” Oh no. Somebody has entered without permission. I sprint out into the hallway and jump through the doors of the stairwell, heading down, down, down deeper into the Earth. Reaching floor 40 with considerable pain, I get to relax for a moment on the landing. The lights down here don’t flash, the setting is meant to calm everyone. Floor 40 and 41 are huge; they are open and reminiscent of childhood bedrooms, minus the walls. I move to a bed in the middle of the room and hop on, awaiting my friends. More and more people flood in and jump onto their beds, completely quiet. Someone runs up to me and lies down on the next bunk. I toss him a magazine instinctively. He turns on his side, faces me and says two words: “Hello, Jourman.”
I spin around: “No talking during a lockdown!”
“Hypocrite.”
“Guava, I’m not kidding!”
Suddenly, I realize what I just said. A huge smile bursts onto my face and I grin over at Daidron, who is standing there awkwardly in a polyester shirt and sweats, staring at me; I jump down and throw my arms around him. I know now: “So… you’re the intruder.”
He smiles and lies back down, mocking me, “No talking during a lockdown—hypocrite.”
Chapter 3
Daidron
Further Account taken after successful infiltration of Tester Base
I stare at the front door. Nothing. There is no movement from inside the house. My ears perk up at a small noise behind me. Spinning around I scan across the sidewalk and yard on the other side of the car. Still nothing. While scanning, I catch a slight whispering sound disappearing into the A/C system. I turn the dial to full fan, and hope to pull whatever was in the vent back out, no luck, nothing comes out, but I do catch the faintest smell of gasoline in the air. Giving up, I shift my attention back to the house. To my surprise a brick in the side of the house retreats just slightly and raises, revealing a small lit space. That is all I can see of it through my binoculars. Soon enough, I lose interest in the brick and look at the big front window, which reveals nothing. There is faint movement behind it and I quickly shift to the back of my Astro, looking through the different filters on the cameras that are set up. To my amazement, there stands Jourman, right behind the glass, staring at the driver’s seat. He turns and walks away from the window, his image slowly fading. I jump out of the car, lock all of the doors and saunter across the street, trying to look inconspicuous. I walk up the front path and knock on the door. I receive no reply. Huh. I reach for the door handle but hesitate.
Something shimmers around the handle, kind of like a bubble, but unmoving, the light reflecting off of it in odd directions. I touch it and suddenly I feel warm, very warm, but there is no pain. My head gets a little light, and I realize I am not breathing, gasping for air before I faint. Somehow I know not to let go of the door handle, and soon enough, the door opens and I step inside. A wave of cool air spills over me and out of the door, but I close it so the house doesn’t heat up. I expected to come in to an entry room, but instead the floor is covered in white tile, with white walls and a white ceiling. Ambient light emits from somewhere unknown and soft music plays within the room. I do see a security camera in the opposite corner, and a door that most likely leads to a hallway. I walk up to the door and turn the handle, pulling at it, but it won’t budge. It slides to the side on runners, and behind is a small room with metal walls, and a keypad stuck into the wall with a display above. An elevator. Odd in a single story house.
I press the red button, half expecting the house to explode into a mushroom cloud, but it doesn’t. Thankfully. Suddenly, the elevator drops, throwing me against the ceiling. I grab hold before it can stop and fling me back to the ground. I open the panel on the top of the elevator and climb out, now standing above the plummeting car. The lights shooting by are actually open elevator doors, and I prepare to jump through one of the openings before my body gets hammered against the roof of the car and all of the bones in my legs blow up into a million pieces. I count down, seeing myself in a dramatic TV show, “3… 2… 1… JUMP!” I throw myself off the top of the elevator and watch the top of a doorway fly right by my eyes as I crumple onto the floor. Safe. For now. There are people running everywhere, trampling each other. I blend easily with the crowd, we’re all teenagers. Surprisingly, there are many girls here too; I hadn’t seen any walk in. Everyone is pouring into the stairwell, rushing down the steps, deeper and deeper into the ground. We spill out of the doors of the stairs into a giant room. There are beds everywhere, many have people lying on them. Then I see him, Jourman, reading a football magazine, completely relaxed. I flop onto the bed next to him and he throws a magazine at me lazily, probably not realizing that I am here. “Hello Jourman.”
Of course he just spins around and yell-whispers at me, “No talking during a lockdown!”
“Hypocrite.”
“Guava, I’m not kidding!”
His eyes suddenly brighten and he grins at me, flinging his legs off the bed and running over to give me a hug. I can tell he’s relieved. “So—you’re the intruder.”
“No talking during a lockdown… hypocrite,” I say with a smile.
Chapter 4
Watching Jourman and Daidron embrace, I mark a few notes on their applicant sheets. I switch the drone into autopilot, sending it back to the charge port it took off from. Both Daidron and Jourman have most surely passed. Before I go up to floors 40 and 41 to calm everyone and announce our new men on the force, I put on my nametag. “Elivias Tester” it reads in nice gold lettering on the green plate. The pin looks good against my blue sweater, but my wife doesn’t think so. She doesn’t see the glamour in a job that necessitates my leaving for months at a time; hates being married to a government drone pilot. I jump in the small private elevator car and push the button for the LRs, or lockdown rooms. Soon the elevator slides into a graceful halt. I strut out and step into the tube elevator. It will deposit me in a sphere in the center of the room, where I am visible to people on both floors. I rise through the floor and emerge behind a podium and a pedestal.
“Simply theatrics, my friends,” I pronounce proudly.
“I would like to congratulate you all on your successful reaction to the emergency. Your response took 5 minutes and 23 seconds. That is a new record!” I pause for the response. Everyone cheers. “The accepting of new members into this program is rare. These two are special cases. One of these young men is the intruder that, as many of you have not noticed, is among you right now. His successful surveillance for 15 days of this base was astounding. The entire time, he did not even know that we were judging his every move, watching him. Only earlier today did he notice something. One applicant, Jourman Staviko, was piloting a drone that accidentally caught the intruder’s eye. I would like to welcome Daidron Ishimandin to the SurEspUs program!
“Now for our second accepted applicant. This applicant exemplified extreme self control, cutting all ties from society as most of you have, and though there were some regrets, this person pushed through to the end; Jourman Staviko!”
Jourman and Daidron light up and do a small dance, sprinting between beds up to the door, giving everyone high fives on their way up. I hand both rings and also a blue bandana for Jourman to tie around his neck. They accept their positions with great appreciation, huge smiles on their faces. They almost trip and fall when they are walking out.
I will wait until tomorrow to tell these two about the chips we will plant in their brains.