Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
A tall, wiry man stood in the shadows of the doorway.
Strands of silver hair hugged the shape of his narrow skull and flowed back into a lean ponytail.
A richly embroidered, mahogany tunic hung from his shoulders.
He stepped backward to allow us entrance, and I saw a pair of slate-gray eyes, closely watching me.
“And who is this you've brought, Anna?” His voice sounded uncannily like Anna's—like both of his children’s—deep and baritone, as if it emanated deep from the belly.
But otherwise, it was hard to even guess they were related.
Between him and his wife, it was clear whose genes ran the strongest in them.
“Meet Tanisha, Dad,” Anna said happily, bounding into the room ahead of me. “We’re here for the registration papers.”
“Aha, yes. Of course.” A smile gently curved his narrow lips, but his sharp gaze remained on me.
His cool eyes held a sense of depth I had rarely seen in a person; they exuded deep intelligence and were at once curious, searching, thoughtful.
And I had the uncomfortable feeling he was examining me… or trying to see something in me.
He politely gestured toward the interior of the room. I slowly followed Anna.
I emerged in a vast, cylindrical chamber.
Crowding its edges were towering bookcases, filled with tomes of hardbound books and piles of rolled up papers.
Weak shafts of daylight trickled through high, narrow windows, and a dusty chandelier hung in the center of the room, casting a dim glow around the spaces the sunlight didn’t reach.
Several globes of the world sat perched on various side tables.
While the rest of the Springs’ home had been fused with modern touches, this room felt different.
It felt almost ancient—and intentionally so, as if it had been frozen in time.
The only items that reminded me of the present were the phone and tablet that lay on the wide table at the center of the room. I wondered why that was.
And it was quiet. So quiet. Yet it felt like it held a thousand secrets.
So, this is where the head of outreach does his work.
It took a moment for the thought to sink in.
This office was, it appeared, ultimately responsible for saving us.
This man was. The weight of thousands of lives rested on his slight shoulders.
I gazed at him again as he made his way across the room.
What decisions had he made behind this door? How many lives had been saved, and how many more would be saved? Who had he left behind?
What does he plan to do with all of us? That question was suddenly almost too much to bear.
This man had the answers I was looking for—had the answers we all were looking for.
He could answer the doubts Miranda had raised that day I’d overheard her and her friends in the caverns.
Doubts about what, exactly, the point of their elaborate outreach effort was, and why Fairlanders were so motivated to do it, when there was no clear reward for themselves.
Doubts that had haunted me since my first conversation with Anna on the journey to this place.
He knew what really went on here, and he also had to know what lay before Jessie and me on Old World Isle, or at least have clearer knowledge than Anna. But would he tell me? Would he give me even a single answer to my many questions?
Somehow, as I watched him gracefully slide into the high-backed chair behind his desk, I knew he wouldn’t.
His face was a mask of calmness, of complete control, as if he were entirely comfortable with everything that existed in this world, exactly how it existed.
I somehow knew, just from looking at him, that he wouldn’t tell me anything unless he already intended to.
“Why don’t you take a seat?” Anna asked me. She already sat in one of the cushioned chairs opposite her father.
I swallowed back the lump that had formed in my throat and moved to the empty chair next to her.
But as I sat down, something else drew my attention.
I noticed more closely the section of wall behind Anna’s father.
It was the only part that wasn’t lined with bookcases.
Instead, a large, black curtain covered it.
Yet, there appeared to be no window behind it; not even the slightest trickle of light escaped through and the only windows in the room appeared, by design, to be right at the top near the ceiling. I stared a little at the oddity.
“Feel free to call me Arthur, Tanisha,” Anna’s father spoke up.
My attention moved to him. “Um, thank you,” I said, somewhat confused. I hadn't expected to be on first name terms with him.
“And I forgot to mention that you should call her Tani,” Anna added with a smirk.
“Tani,” Arthur repeated thoughtfully. There was another moment of silence in which he continued to observe me, and then he opened a drawer in his desk. He pulled out a sheet of paper and pushed it toward Anna.
“The Course registration form,” Anna explained to me. “It’s just a brief formality, as I mentioned earlier.”
Before I could respond, a shrill sound shattered the calmness of the room. Arthur’s phone rang. He looked at the device’s screen and let out a quiet sigh.
“Unfortunately, I must leave.” He gave me a mildly apologetic look and picked up a briefcase which hung from an arm of his chair. Then he swept toward the door.
But he paused at the threshold. I looked up to see his cool gaze pointed on me like an arrow. “I’m sure you’ll do excellently, Tani. We’re counting on you for that.”
I stared after him as he left the room.
Counting on me?
What did he mean by that?
I looked back at Anna when the door shut behind him. “Do you mind telling me what your father meant by that?” I asked.
She gave a shrug, her expression nonchalant as she scribbled her name at the bottom of the registration form.
“It’s just, as I said earlier, that we’re a competitive family, and we have ambitions.
Obviously, if you and I excel in the Course, we’ll both get significant financial kickbacks.
And those kickbacks could be significant enough to mean the difference between my father overtaking Burchard as Chief Operations Officer this year, or not. ”
I took a moment to process that information.
I hadn’t been under the impression that Anna’s kickback would impact her father because, well, I thought that money would be Anna’s.
But I saw the gleam of pride in her eyes when she talked about her father joining the top three elite of Fairwell—the “C-Suite”, as she’d called it—and wasn’t surprised that she apparently planned to contribute whatever wealth she gained toward her father’s pursuit of glory.
And just a tiny fraction of whatever massive wealth they have could pull my family back together.
It would be as simple as a transfer, a not-so-small voice in my head reminded me.
And yet, there was no point in thinking it.
Anna had made clear to me through her actions that I couldn’t expect any handouts from anyone here, not without strings attached.
Even borrowing the relatively small amount required to get my parents into a decent hospital had cost me whatever this Course would entail… which was currently an unknown price.
“I see,” I replied quietly, my mouth feeling dryer than a moment ago.
“Do you have any known medical conditions, hon?” Anna asked, her pen’s tip still hovering over the registration form.
“N-No,” I replied. “Wh—?”
“I didn’t think so, based on the results of your screening. It showed you’re in perfectly fit physical shape. I just asked to double-check, to be official.” She scribbled something more on the form, then pushed the piece of paper toward me along with a pen. “Alright, you can sign here, please.”
I first looked over the words she was asking me to write my name under.
“REGISTRATION FOR GICFF (General Induction Course for Founders of the Future),” read the headline.
Next were two lines for writing down the full names of the “Mentor” and the “Mentee”, our ages, and our addresses, which Anna had filled in with block letters.
She had written a cross mark next to “Any known medical conditions?”, and a tick mark next to a section which asked for confirmation that both Mentor and Mentee would make themselves available for the Induction Course’s starting date.
The form did look quite basic, as Anna had indicated. Then my eyes fell on the final line:
“Both Mentor and Mentee agree to conduct off-island training.”
“What does that mean?” I asked Anna, pointing to it.
Her lips stretched into a grin. “Oh, that’s one of the best parts of this. We’re going out into the Old World. What better way to prepare for Old World Isle?”
I stared at her. “You mean leaving Fairwell? And going where in the ‘Old World’?”
She nodded almost gleefully. “You’ll find out tomorrow. Be ready at 7 a.m.”