@toboldlywrite tagged me to share nine (9) lines, and since I wrote two (2) lines for SOLE Project earlier today, I figured I’d share those! And also some of the ones preceding it!
She’d been keeping an eye on the WGMS readings, and the work she has done has tipped the scales. A few days ago, that had been a delight. She remembers the lectures: glaciers can gather accumulation in any season, and they need various cracks sealed and cloud cover generated to keep them around and regulating the climate. She’d done all that, she’d fixed them, and at least one of the scientific institutions that hadn’t been defunded had recognized that. Corroborated it. The world would soon know.
The problem only started when she made the mistake of thinking that it would change things. But nothing has changed. She risked the last of her phone battery to check on the public reaction, but it was barely a drop in the ocean of outcry.
Treading the thin line between “This character is formed by adverse experiences that inform her bad decisions as the only possible choice she could make” and “This character does know better but still chooses to make bad decisions” like a tightrope walker at the circus
Beth is a traumatized character but not in a “her trauma made her stronger” way, more in a “her trauma made her fragile and then that became everybody’s problem because of the plot” way. Which will likely not land well with the crowd expecting main characters to be able to handle everything perfectly despite the horrors.
I haven’t done a @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt in a while, but I’ve been neck deep in SOLE work trying to finish a draft by September and
I saw this and thought “You know, I’ve never written out how Agau told Beth about her powers…”
So that’s what I did! It barely squeaks under 1,000 words at 940 but hey—that counts.
The knock on the door startles her, but she doesn’t fall off the bed, so Beth keeps sticking glow-in-the-dark stars to her ceiling.
“Come in!”
She doesn’t have to ask or look to know who it is. The scientists never knock, so it will be Connor here to accompany her to breakfast. They didn’t eat together yesterday, but yesterday was her birthday. That means she got to make her own schedule, and she never sets a start time for her birthday schedules. It’s better to wake up without an alarm, even if she never wakes up more than an hour past the usual start time anyway.
As the door opens, she sticks the final star into place and admires her work. She had thought long and hard about what she wanted her present to be this year, and the sticky stars had won out. Fifteen is a satisfying number, and she wanted to celebrate with something just as beautiful.
So she had spent hours yesterday examining every star, organizing them by size, and running through iterations of display to decide which one she wanted to put up. The last thing before going to bed last night had been to line them up in order of placement and keep her lamp on all night to charge them. She hadn’t slept well, but it’s the first day back to her studies after her birthday. There shouldn’t be anything too intense today.
“Very thorough,” a feminine voice compliments.
That isn’t Connor Millard. Beth turns to see a figure that she associates with pictures and screen displays standing in her room: Dr. Barbara Agau.
Scrambling off the bed, Beth fixes her hair and hastens to meet her. She can’t help but be conscious of her appearance in comparison to Dr. Agau, who looks even more perfect in person than she does in her photos. Her hair is slicked back and captured in a bun, her clothes are pressed and clean, and her makeup is subtle but perfect. Beth, on the other hand, abounds in tangles and wrinkles.
“I—thank you,” she says, looking up at Dr. Agau.
“I trust you are hungry enough for breakfast?”
Dr. Agau turns without waiting for her answer, and begins to leave. Beth hurries to catch up, taking the wordless walk to review the lessons she has been taught on how to engage with her superiors. They should be easy: she has practiced silence and timing and general manners on every scientist who engages with her. But she’s never had to engage with the head of Agau Laboratories. The sudden change makes her heart twist in her chest.
Familiar anxiety creeps its way through her entire body. She barely tastes her food. Dr. Agau doesn’t select anything for herself, but seems to know exactly what Beth is prescribed to eat on all non-birthday mornings, and arranges it herself. She does fill two cups of water, though, and hands them to Beth to carry to their table.
“I understand it was your birthday yesterday,” she says as they sit.
“Yeah!” Beth says with a smile.
“Yes,” Dr. Agau agrees, a random note of reproach in her voice. As Beth is trying to figure out where she went wrong, she continues, “I had hoped to discuss things with you then, but my flight was delayed.”
Beth only partially understands this explanation. She knows what a plane is, of course, but she didn’t know Dr. Agau had been riding one. Beth had thought she would be where she always assumes the doctor is: overseeing her SOLE Project from her office, one of the currently restricted areas.
“Regardless, I am back now, and eager to bring you up to date on your role in the Project.”
Beth abandons her spoon and sits up a little straighter. She knows that Dr. agau is working on saving the world, but she never knew she would have a role in it. She simply understood herself to be here, at home, while Dr. Agau worked. There was promise of understanding when she was older, but Beth never expected it to happen the day after she got older.
Dr. Agau has paused long enough that Beth decides this is one of those predetermined places for her to respond.
“What do you need me to do?”
This is the correct response, as evidenced by the way Dr. Agau smiles at her.
“Now that my work preparing the world for your arrival is sufficiently in place, I have returned here to personally oversee your work strengthening your hydrokinetic abilities.”
Beth hardly got a word of that, and it must show on her face, because Dr. Agau sets her cup down and tries again.
“You spend hours in this facility’s recreational pools. You require strict time limits on your morning showers so that you do not fall behind in your studies. You frequently use the water coolers installed in every room, the ones we had to teach you to use from a young age to preclude your constant requests for water.”
Dr. Agau doesn’t recite Beth’s behavior with judgment or shame, but neither does she sound proud. She simply lists facts, none of which Beth can deny.
“You are intrinsically linked to the water, Beth. I designed you this way, so that you would use your abilities to help me and my Project.”
Beth hears the truth behind the doctor’s words: So that you help me save the world. She still doesn’t understand how, but the idea is so exciting that she couldn’t reject the doctor’s high expectations even if she wanted to.
It's Leap Day, so tell me about a leap (a big decision, an impulsive action, a change in life circumstances, etc.) that your blorbo(s) have taken?
Perhaps I should just let the excerpt speak for itself.
“Beth,” Dr. Agau says. Hearing her name—her real name—from Agau’s mouth, and in such a caring tone, catches Beth’s attention more than the command to stop. She pauses on her way towards the cliff--no, to the ocean.
“Don’t do this,” she continues.
“Do what?” Beth calls out cautiously. I don’t even know what I’m doing.
It’s not like she did this for any sort of logical reason. It was just… fear. Fear about what she saw, fear about what she would hear, just… fear. Driving her away from every good thing she has ever known. Sure, the outside world is beautiful. But she knew that already. It still isn’t worth sacrificing their entire relationship for.
Then again… Beth would not be surprised if their relationship was already ruined. She has broken so many rules, and disobeyed so many direct orders this morning… What’s to say I haven’t already ruined everything?
And if she has already ruined everything, she might as well make sure there isn’t anything worth going back to.
She must telegraph her decision on her face, because Dr. Agau crosses her arms and raises her eyebrow. It’s a subtle shift, but Beth can read the disapproval over the ten feet of space between them.
“Do what?” Beth demands again, angrier.
She didn’t expect to be angry. As far as she can tell, the emotion isn’t coming from anywhere predictable. But there it is, all the same. After all, why should Agau make her feel this way? Just because she is her mother, and in charge of everything? When does Beth get her own say?
So she doesn’t know where it’s coming from, but the anger feels like it is pouring off of her in waves. She spreads her arms, and speaks her mind for what feels like the first time.
“I don’t do anything, except what you tell me,” Beth says, taking a step back. “You claim you’re so logical, but you also claim that we’re supposed to save the world together. If that’s true, but you don’t tell me anything, where’s the logic in that?”
Dr. Agau matches her steps, never faltering despite wearing heels on rock. “My logic,” she says coldly, “reveals that you are not yet ready.”
Beth takes another step back away from the labs. Dr. Agau follows.
“You have demonstrated as much today,” she continues.
“I didn’t know what I was doing,” Beth fires back.
“You didn’t know what you were doing when you read the labeled door and ignored its—and my—instructions?”
“You mean the same instructions that are on the outside of the room you already took me into?” Beth says, throwing a hand out in front of her to gesture at the room of tanks. “You’re just so—so contradictory!”
“I will ask you to refrain from name-calling,” Dr. Agau says.
“And I’ll ask you to start talking to me like I’m a real person!” Beth shouts, before realizing that she shouldn’t. Don’t sound so desperate, she reminds herself. Control.
“You are a real person, Beth.”
Frustration mounts in her throat. Dr. Agau’s tone remains infuriatingly calm. Doesn’t she care at all?
“I have always treated you according to your own behavior,” Dr. Agau reminds her. “In the past twenty-four hours, you have demonstrated one immature outburst after another. Such behavior does not qualify you to learn the extensively detailed plans that I have spent years of dedicated work on.”
In other words, Beth’s earlier assessment was accurate: she really has ruined it all.
She knew that it was true, but the confirmation still stings. Tears in her eyes, she begins to walk backwards at a faster pace. When she speaks again, her voice is still loud, but emotional.
“I am the primary subject of the SOLE Project. I am the ‘spark of life’ that you experimented on! If anyone deserves to know your plans, or the extent of the Project, or whatever you want to call it, it’s me.”
Dr. Agau pauses, and Beth lets herself hope.
Then she opens her mouth to respond.
“If you intend to learn this ahead of schedule, you will need to demonstrate your eligibility in different ways. For example, once we have accurate data documenting the exact limits of your abilities, we will be able to fully finalize the Project’s plans, and thus begin incorporating you fully into them.”
Her words make Beth pause as she tries to process them.
If Dr. Agau is telling the truth, then all of their time working on various assignments hasn’t been for nothing. The increasing difficulty of those assignments hasn’t been for nothing. The early mornings, the anxiety, the headaches, all their work… What else could it have been working towards, if not the Project?
As suddenly as her anger appeared, so does the realization behind the true meaning of Agau’s words.
“The limits?” Beth asks, her voice shaky. “My limits? You mean the ones we tested in the diving pool?” That same anger hardens her voice. “What about that data wasn’t accurate enough for you?”
She shakes her head, taking the last few steps away from Dr. Agau.
“No. I won’t do that again, not for anything in the world.”
“Beth!” Dr. Agau snaps, stepping closer again. “It is precisely the world that is at stake. Come away from the cliff, and we will work all this out.”
I must be getting close. If Dr. Agau has incorporated the cliff’s edge into her words, that means Beth is nearly there. Perfect.
“Then go save the world,” Beth tells her, tears finally breaking over. “Just make another one of me, and do it that way. That seems to be what you’re good at, anyway.”
Not wanting to hear another word from Dr. Agau’s mouth, Beth turns and runs for the edge of the cliff.
