Chapter 9 The Stuff of Fairy Tales
The Stuff of Fairy Tales
There’s a clear-cut hierarchy in the Umbra Program. Case in point: the meeting room seating chart.
Professor Carr sits at the head of the table, a frown resting above his rimless glasses.
On his right sits Tae-Suk Ho, aforementioned supernova, sleep objector, and all-around kiss-ass.
Tae is by far Carr’s favorite (understandably so, loath as Sascia is to admit it).
At just fourteen, Tae’s tinkering with lumen technology resulted in the first-ever patent for mass production nova-light microtools, and two years later, Professor Carr invited him to the Umbra Program.
(Danny also loves to rave about Tae’s good looks: the long lashes and glossy dark hair, but being an insufferable know-it-all ruins all attractiveness for Sascia.)
On Carr’s left sits twenty-year-old Andres Matthei, the Umbra’s xenogeneticist. The only son of two geneticists from Santiago, Chile, Andres assisted his parents’ team in hypothesizing the basis of what later became the Darknomaly theory—an attempt to explain the bizarre evolutionary anomalies of Darkcreatures.
Andres is a six-foot-six giant with silver hoops in both ears, left eyebrow, and lower lip, the last of which he’s currently spinning with his teeth.
Next to Tae sits Shivani Kaur, the newest addition to the Umbra, a seventeen-year-old aspiring anthrozoologist from New Delhi, India, who managed to domesticate a swarm of rodent Darkcreatures.
Usually, Shivani is a dark academia girlie, all gray turtlenecks, plaid miniskirts, and woolen socks up to her thighs.
Currently, however, she’s in costume (Rogue from X-Men), which Sascia finds delightful—who cares about very serious faculty meetings on life-altering Dark news when today is Halloween?
On Andres’s other side sits a tablet, camera off but sound on as per usual.
The furious clickity-clack of Crow’s keyboard blends into the white noise of the city below the windows.
Crow is the Umbra’s resident jack-of-all-trades, from god-knows-where and majoring in god-knows-what.
Sascia has never met Crow in person or seen her face, but she has deduced the girl is likely very young because of the memes she sends in the group chat.
“I’m sorry we’re late, sir,” Danny says, wheeling himself to an empty spot next to Shivani.
If they weren’t a devastating fifteen minutes late, Danny would be sitting in his proper place next to Tae, third in the unofficial Umbra ranking, but alas, Sascia’s poor cousin is always doomed by association.
An emotionless noise leaves Carr’s nose, completely closed to interpretation. Oh, he’s in A Mood today, capital A, capital M, silent-treatment-style.
Sascia takes her seat. It’s at the very bottom of the pecking order, of course, at the end of the table next to virtual Crow. Immediately, she slumps low in her chair, navigating her head behind Andres’s bulky form and just out of Professor Carr’s direct eyeline.
“Now that we’re all here,” Carr deadtones, “let us proceed with reassignments.”
All five students perk up. In Carr-speak, reassignments mean new information has been released by the Chapter and their research is to shift focus accordingly.
“In light of recent events, Chapter XI is commandeering the expertise of all active xenoscientists in the world, including our program. Miss Crow, your new goal is to analyze the Darkhumanoid’s power blast and produce a device that will nullify it or produce a counterattack—Mr. Ho, I believe the design of a nova-cannon you were working on last year will do nicely.
Mr. Matthei, Miss Kaur, the Chapter was kind enough to provide a genetic sample of the Darkhumanoid, which you will use to further your preexisting research into Darkviruses’ and Darkrats’ behavioral patterns respectively, with a new focus on bioweapons.
Mr. Jacobs, Miss Petrou, you will now focus on exploring the potential to subdue and trap Darkcreatures in a secure environment—the Chapter is particularly interested in utilizing the nova-light panels of your moth garden.
” Carr folds his hands over his lap. “I have been asked to urgently resume my own research on controlling the entry and exit of creatures through Darkholes. I will be heading to my facilities upstate tomorrow, but I expect daily reports on your progress from all of you.”
The silence in the meeting room is frosted with dread.
Sascia looks at Danny, finding her own rising panic in his wide eyes. Down the table, Shivani is fidgeting with the sleeve of her costume, while Andres taps his fingernails on the glass table. Tae looks as though he’s been run over by a horde of stampeding wildebeest.
When Sascia first signed on, she thought she was on the path to brilliance (and, let’s be honest, redemption), but the facts quickly dispelled any naive fantasies about the Umbra.
It is a privately funded research program, and as such, beholden to those private funders.
The cohort’s research has always been geared toward findings that can be translated into revenue for its funders: NovaCorp, leading producer of nova-light products; Hyanzi, the world’s largest energy company; LIHT, manufacturers of electronics.
But even so, their research has always been focused on defense. The protection of the human race. A painful, yet safe, coexistence with the Dark.
These reassignments—they are about attacking. Destroying.
It is Crow who finally breaks the silence, her voice breathy against her mic. “These sound quite…aggressive, sir.”
“Public safety is and has always been the Chapter’s priority, Miss Crow,” Carr answers.
“They think the Darkhumanoid will come back?” Shivani asks.
“It is a possibility we must be ready for. The Chapter has instructed us to prepare for the worst. New austerity policies will become public in the next few weeks.”
“Prepare for the worst,” Andres muses, “doesn’t sound like Director Shen. He was always pro-collaboration with potential Darkhumanoids.”
“Shen”—the director is always just Shen to Professor Carr, seeing how they have a decades-long academic rivalry that culminated in the run for director of the Chapter six years ago—“has maintained his peace-advocating stance after the Times Square incident. World governments did not respond well to the idea of peacemaking with what they argue is a violent invader. A sapient creature that can bypass our sensors and counteract our nova-guns is an unparalleled enemy. Chapter XI is currently considering appointing a new director.”
That produces a shocked gasp from every member of the Umbra cohort.
Director Shen is the hero who discovered nova-light, brought down the Shanghai Darkdragon, and founded Chapter XI.
Without him, there would be no humanity left to protect.
To replace him would mean bringing an end to any possibility of a peaceful resolution.
Some part of Sascia knows she should be the first in the firing squad, eager to eliminate the prince who vowed to kill her only a week ago.
But she couldn’t fire the killing shot then, and she can’t now.
The Dark may be filled with clawed, many-toothed things, but it is not inherently evil. She will not treat it as such.
“The elf prince spoke English,” she blurts.
Rather loud and rather forcefully, it seems, because suddenly all heads swivel to look at her. Danny coughs, sliding her a wide-eyed what-are-you-doing? look.
Cheeks flushing, Sascia quickly pivots, “I only mean that we could talk to him. We don’t know what might have been his motive for attacking. It could all be a misunderstanding that we can solve simply by sitting down with him—”
“The elf prince,” the professor cuts in before she can make her argument. “What’s next, Miss Petrou? Should we wrap it up here and start looking into fairy tales and Irish ballads for clues instead?”
The urge to antagonize him is irresistible—Sascia says, “I think that’s a great idea, actually.”
The cohort lets out a collective groan.
“Oh, shut up,” Sascia tells them. She’s willing to take shit from Carr, but she sure as hell isn’t taking shit from her friends.
“We are all here at the Umbra because we found a way to understand the Dark. To communicate with it. Me with my moths, Danny with his Darkplants, Shivani with her Darkrats. Andres with his research on immunology and Tae and Crow with their Dark-controlling technology. Instead of preparing for the worst, I think we should pave the way for something better.”
“Of course you do,” Tae mutters under his breath.
Oh, little Mr. Kiss-Ass wants a piece of her fury? Sascia will gladly grant it. “Go ahead, Tae,” she snaps. “Tell us again your wild theory that the Dark is biomatter nanotechnology far beyond our understanding, because that makes more sense than—”
She cuts herself short before she says something unscientific, and thus unforgivable.
But it’s too late. Carr leans back in his chair and looks at her dead in the eye. “Please, Miss Petrou, go on. It makes more sense than what?”
Suddenly, there’s a knot in her throat, making it hard to swallow.
The table is quiet, eyes averted. Even Crow’s constant typing has petered out.
Danny shakes his head imperceptibly, but Sascia is well past saving now.
Should she just say it? She’s dug herself this far, might as well go for the full six feet, right?
“Magic,” Sascia says, then adds a calm, “sir.”
There it is. Out in the open.
Sascia’s breathing comes a little too fast, too shallow, but there’s an exhilaration coursing through her veins.
After two years at the Umbra, two years of withstanding Carr’s subtle criticisms on her methodology, she has finally said out loud the thought she’s held on to like a prayer, a wish upon a star. The Dark is magic.
She is not the only one who thinks so. The Darkdragon was named as such because it so closely resembled the water dragons of Chinese mythology.
The Darkgriffin looks just like its counterparts in Greek and Roman frescoes.
Even smaller Darkfaunas bear a resemblance to creatures from human myth: Shivani’s rodents look like Mushika, the rat mount of the god Ganesha, and one of Andres’s studies is on a Darkbird that looks like the Alicanto of Chilean mythology.
There’s a rare type of root Darkplant that squeals when removed from the ground, just like the myth of the mandrake.
The leading theory is that the Dark has touched the human world before, millennia ago, giving seed to the legends that later became human mythologies, but there’s no hard evidence. (Of course there’s not, Sascia thinks—isn’t that the very point of magic?)
Tae snorts. Andres busies himself with a paper.
Crow switches her mic off. Danny is rubbing his temples.
Sascia glances at Shivani, her last hope.
Her humanistic, sociological outlook has so often placed her in opposition to Carr’s more pragmatic methods—Sascia loves Shivani for it.
But this time, even Shivani tucks her chin into her chest, without a single word of support.
Panic trills in Sascia’s mind. It has begun to dawn on her: she went too far.
“All I’m saying,” she adds quickly, backtracking as best she can, “is that we might benefit from a perspective that is less focused on defending and more on learning. Instead of how to harm him, perhaps we should be thinking of a way to interact with him. A way that’s gentler, kinder, more understanding—”
“Gentleness and kindness, Miss Petrou, are as much the stuff of fairy tales as magic.” There’s a finality in Professor Carr’s voice, a resolute end.
The fluorescent lights overhead reflect on the lenses of his glasses, concealing his eyes.
“I understand your hesitation. We are men of science, not warfare. We value exploration and discovery, not annihilation. But the forces above us have decided the preservation of our kind is more important than research. It pains me, too, but we have to abide.”
The mood in the room shifts to grim capitulation.
Even Sascia agrees with them: Carr can be a cold, unbendable bastard, but he has integrity.
He is loyal—to science, to research, to results.
Yet even he has to bow down to what world governments think is right.
Just another tool in Chapter XI’s arsenal, no better than Sascia or Danny or any other scholar of the Dark in this room.
Sascia’s rib cage corsets her breath, asphyxiatingly tight. This is not research any longer, not science and experiment. They have moved past the hypothetical to the hideously real.
This is war.