The List:
-Nora Farthington, Ned Silver, Nelson Garrett, Naith
-Nebraska, Nigeria, the Nest, the NICHE, nowhere, neighborhood
-nighttime, next, never, Neanderthal, nanosecond
-napkin, necklace, note, nebula, nightclub, name, nightstand, nightgown, nerves
The Result:
"N.O.W.H.E.R.E."
(*A sequel to the story "Occupational Heresy")
Nora took a deep breath to steady her nerves; no sense in
notifying the Occupants that one of their number was at present severely
high-strung for no apparent reason. Ten minutes after Professor Silver
departed, Nora made her way back into the neutral zone, back to the noxious hum
that buzzed in her ears louder than ever before. She tucked the necklace back
into her collar, felt the warm metal nestle against her skin.
Could she really be the one to liberate Earth, as the
professor said? She wondered, for a nanosecond, whether it could actually be
possible. No one had ever thought to resist the Occupation; the longer they
remained nested in every continent, the more the Occupants negated any
historical record in which they were not the dominant species. As far as anyone
even knew, an insurrection had never been tried.
Until now.
Nora concentrated on her firm, measured steps all the way
back to her small apartment. She had agreed to meet him at noon the next day;
he promised information that would help her. It sounded so easy when he said
it: in order to find the other keys, they would have to break into the
NICHE—the National Interspace Command Headquarters Edifice from which the
Occupants controlled the entirety of human governments worldwide—and find the
Nest, which served as the nexus of power for these Occupants whose presence
everyone felt, but never actually saw. She had initially objected at being the
“lone heroine to save the day,” but Professor Silver had laughed and assured
her, “You won’t be alone. There are others who will be with you every step of
the way.”
Nora went through her customary nighttime routine, wrestling
against the urge to change even a single moment of what would be considered
normal. She combed her hair, exchanged her uniform for a nightgown, and brushed
her teeth. Last of all, before getting into bed, Nora removed the earplugs,
basking in the stark silence. She closed her eyes and drifted to sleep.
Not much later, the nightmare began. Nora found herself
navigating an endless maze of dark hallways, with nebulous shapes wafting in
the shadows, manifesting periodically in forms from the deepest, darkest
corners of Nora’s psyche. Slithering tentacles, gnashing teeth, fearsome
claws—Nora could do nothing but run from one horror straight to the next. She
woke with a small whimper to an absolute mess of her bed, pillows and blankets
thrown about, nightgown rumpled. She sat up and rubbed her face, panting hard
to calm her shaken nerves. The earrings on her nightstand flashed a soothing
green. The Occupant assigned to her neighborhood was trying to make contact.
Nora groaned softly to herself as she obediently replaced the earring so the
Occupant could network with her.
“Hello, Nora.”
“Hello, Naith.”
“I noticed you weren’t sleeping well just now. What seems
to be the problem?”
“Nothing,” Nora tried to keep the tremor out of her voice.
“Just normal things; a nightmare is all.”
“Nightmares are often caused by neural unrest. What is
the nature of your nightmare?”
“Know what?” Nora murmured, “I don’t even remember it now. I
think I can sleep just fine.”
“All right. I will be with you in the morning, Nora.”
“As always, Naith.”
Nora couldn’t get the small studs out of her earlobes fast
enough. She laid the gemstones back on their stand, now returned to their
customary blue hue, and laid down in her bed, pulling the covers up to her
chin. She glanced out the window, watching the undulating nebula wavering over
the sky. No one could pinpoint exactly when the nebula had first entered human
cognizance—whether it had appeared as suddenly as the Occupants, or whether it
had always hovered in the night sky, undetected until the present moment. Nora
knew there was some important connotation attached to the phenomenon, if only
she could figure out what it was.
Nora found it even more difficult to focus on the mundane
routine the next morning. She fumbled through dressing, and she nearly walked
out with only one earring in, and her necklace in plain view on the outside of
her uniform. Frantically, she kept the door of her apartment firmly shut until
she had everything in order, and only then did she allow herself to emerge like
a good little Occupied student.
Nora fought to keep from nodding off during the Arithmetic
lecture; at least here she didn’t have to worry about double-speak and
ever-changing narratives—did she? Nothing about numbers and figures seemed in
the least way out of the ordinary. Contrary to what she had told Naith the
night before, she could remember the most intense moments of her nightmare,
seared into her brain with vivid, excruciating detail.
Nora walked out through the university commons as the
massive clock tolled the noon hour in digitized knells.
A note had found its way into her locker, in Professor
Silver’s familiar handwriting and inscribed hastily on a napkin. He wrote in
bold capitals for some reason, and the message was especially cryptic. “NOWHERE
IS NOWHERE,” it said. At the bottom he had drawn a symbol she recognized, the
logo of a long-defunct nightclub. Nora headed there now, nagged by the
incessant humming of her earrings, knowing her every movement would be
tracked—she could only assume the Professor had found another one of those
“noise-canceling pockets” like he had near the library.
She passed through the narrow gate under the decrepit sign
that read NETHER-LAND. Rather a naughty name for an establishment, however
appropriate. Her hand trembled as she knocked at the door. The nozzle of a gun
peeked out the window next to her.
“Nobody home! Buzz off!”
Nora held up her note, hoping that whoever was inside could
see it. “Professor Silver indicated that I should come,” she said.
“You numpty!” The voice growled, and the door opened at just
about the same time two large hands grabbed Nora by the arm and dragged her
inside.
“Naming names in the open like that! Do you want to get us all nixed?”
“Who are you?” Nora demanded, wrenching away from the grip
in the dark interior of the vacant nightclub. “Where’s Professor Silver? Is he
here?”
“Ned!” the man called, leaving Nora standing in the middle
of the room that stank of countless crowds, unwashed dishes, stale cigar smoke,
and who-knew-what-else. “Someone here for ya!”
“Nora!” At last, a familiar voice! Nora nearly cried as the
professor she barely knew stepped into the room and wrapped his arms
protectively around her. “You got my note! You found us.”
“I did,” she admitted, swallowing the tears and rubbing her
nose. “Though I’d like to know: who is us?
What is this place?”
Ned Silver smacked his forehead. “I’m sorry; in my effort to
hide our true intentions from anyone who could betray that information, I may
have muddled things for you. Come! Let me show you!” He took her hand and led
her further back into the club, where a large room completely hidden from any windows
held many monitors and screens and some very sophisticated navigational
equipment. “Welcome to N.O.W.H.E.R.E.!”
Nora gazed in bewilderment at the assembled group: people
milled about the screens, entering information, reading articles and streams of
text she couldn’t possibly dream of understanding, and speaking together in
small groups over short stacks of printed material. “Nowhere?” She repeated.
A man stopped in the act of walking by. “Yes, we are the
National Organization of World Historians to End Research Entropy.”
Nora frowned. “Research Entropy?”
Ned nodded. “What can I say? The acronym came first, before
the official title. Basically, what we are doing—right under the noses of the
Occupation—is collecting and preserving any records we can find of
pre-Occupation historical events. That way, no matter what they try to do with
replacing or negating our past, we can still know how things really happened.”
“And someday,” the man agreed, “When we figure out how to
neutralize the Occupant’s surveillance, and how to re-activate the Stonehenge
Shield, we’ll be able to correct the nullified records.”
Ned smiled and squeezed the young woman’s hand. “That’s
where you come in. Nora, meet Nelson Garrett, one of the first historians on
the team. Nelson, this is Nora Farthington—and she is the key-holder for North
America.”
“Key-holder?” Nelson gasped, and the same time Nora cried,
“North America?”
“Yes,” Ned agreed. “You recall how I told you there were
five keys? Well, thanks to some very relentless hacking, our team has
discovered that potentially the other four keys are located somewhere within
four other continents: Europe, Asia, Australia, and Africa. We’re still
narrowing down the specifics—which we can’t do unless the neural network
spanning the nation is neutralized—but thus far we’ve been able to isolate four
different regions: Norway in Europe, Nepal in Asia, Nigeria in Africa, and New
South Wales in Australia.”
Nelson snorted. “Yes, well, if we were at the Home Office in
Newfoundland, I could network with all the
agents in those areas, thereby making our search more effective, but no! You
had to call us all out to bleeding Nebraska, of all places—“
“Oh!” Nora gasped, noting the nature of Nelson’s complaint.
“That’s what your note meant! “NOWHERE is now here.”
Nelson would not be so easily deterred. “We are indeed, and
we have precious little to show for it. I mean, really! I acknowledge that
Nebraska might be a nexus of power for the Occupation in this part of the
world, but the accommodations are bordering on Neanderthal!”
“Nevertheless,” Ned cut in, raising his hand, “we’re doing
pretty well with what we have, working in secret like this, and—if you’re on
board, Nora—we can start planning how we’ll infiltrate the NICHE.”
Nora took one more glance around the room, and then nodded
at Ned.
“Count me in,” she said.
Original Suggestion Box Image |
Also in the A-to-Z Challenge Series: ( * Continuations of previous Suggestion Box installments)
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