Mind Lockers

Magnus stuffed the last bit of clothing into Maiken’s pack, pushing her downward as he did. “Se det!” she yelled, “trying to hobble me before I leave?” He smirked. His sister was stronger and bigger than most men. She was bred for this mission, among other things. “Ok Mai, you have smoked hare, millet, squash seeds and a couple of protein envelopes that I was able to sneak off campus. I’m giving you snares, paracord, fishing filament, my cold fire kit and, well, you know the rest. Remember to always have ice in your helmet and breastplates. Even in sub-zero temperatures your heat signature can be detected. Move only at night and whatever you do, do not burn anything. The days will only last several hours so rest and hide when it’s light.” She fingered the frayed edge of her traditional Faroese sweater, a relic from normal times. They had been planning this mission for years, waiting for winter and a break in the harvesting schedule so she could slip away without being immediately missed. “And now,” he said, “the most important item.” He held up a thin chain and clasped it around her neck. Her hand instinctively went up to clutch the familiar shape. She and her twin had been refining their father’s technology for decades. Magnus retrieved an identical piece from his pocket, and they both began to hum. Each heart-shaped locket was irrationally light for its size. Niobium, he told her, with a little titanium and zirconium. The guts of the lockets were far beyond her comprehension, liquid metals, coils of fiberoptics, crystalized plasmas and elements that didn’t exist on the periodic table she learned. When she rolled it around, she could both hear and feel a certain gyroscopic sloshiness.

Magnus looked into her eyes and communicated without speaking. “Are you ready?” “Yes” was her wordless response. “We’ll be putting these to the test,” he continued, “we know they can withstand the cold; we just don’t know the limitations of distance. If you don’t hear from me every day, assume that they still work and that I’m just being cautious.” It was her turn to convey her thoughts. “They’ll come after you as soon as they know I’m missing. What will you tell them?” “Nothing,” he responded, “we haven’t seen each other in years and their records will reflect that.” He was right. The Quaternions Lab and the Human Improvement Center were miles apart and separated by widening meltwater channels. As far as the OWL was concerned, communication between them had been properly obstructed. They would not expect what was about to be exposed.

The siblings had already pushed the limits of their time together. “Let’s move,” they thought in unison. “Vertu öruggur, stay safe. Sjáumst bráðlega, see you soon.” She was leaving Stockholm and for the next forty days she would be heading North and then East over the frozen Gulf of Bothnia, remnants of permafrost and across ice bridges, like those used by her ancestors, centuries ago. Before the world was reset by man, there were fewer than 60,000 Faroese speakers on the planet. Today there were two and their memories were fading. How ironic that their motherland Denmark, the happiest place on earth and where insulin was discovered would become the epicenter of human scientific research that would test the boundaries of ethics, biology, and faith. Or, that the 1% of the 1% would decide that their parents, Pal and Margrethe were the keys to the advancement of humanity.

The ground was so frozen that Mai could walk on the ridges of snow without sinking. She pulled her arms into her coat and rubbed the lumps on both sides of her pelvis. Years of surgeries and injections left scar tissue that was numb yet sore. She hoped that after a few days of missed stimulant hormones the swelling would subside. The old wool sweater shielded her skin from direct contact with the frozen vest she wore but she wouldn’t mind some cold therapy right now. At 34, she was in her 18th year of involuntary egg donorship. At four harvests per year and about ten eggs per harvest, she estimated that she had roughly 720 taken from her. If OWL wanted more vikings on the planet, they should have kept more around in the first place, she thought. She and her brother were both considered to be perfect human specimens, tall, broad-shouldered, and muscular with perfect vision, teeth, and hearing. They were also the children of two of the most renowned scientists in the world. The Pallesens were awarded the Nobel Prize in Physiology for their discoveries concerning a novel therapy against malaria. And, when they weren’t trying to save the world, they were cultivating their children’s extraordinary ability to communicate without words. It was common for twins to have their own language, but they knew what they were witnessing was unprecedented. It came as no surprise that when 22nd century advancements were made in the study of telepathy it was discovered that the strongest practitioners were male/female twins. But the Pallesens weren’t kept around for this purpose. They were chosen because of their understanding of the greatest weapon on earth. And sparing their children was the reward for their service.

Mai made good time. She stopped at sunrise every day to bed down and eat. She used the cold flame to toast seeds and boil water for drinking and soaking the millet. She snacked on the rabbit jerky during the day. The solar panels in her pack and bedroll created enough heat to warm the inside of her sleeping bag while leaving the outermost layer icy cold and undetectable by heat seekers. At night she lay her hand on the locket and waited. On the third night, a familiar voice cut into her brain. “I’m here,” Magnus said. “I can’t talk long,” he continued, “I was questioned, but only for a few minutes. I told them that I assumed that you were still pursuing your studies. Last time I saw you, you were still a scientist too. Remember?” “Yes,” she said, “I remember.” Before they began using her for reproductive purposes, she was Maiken Pallesdatter, the climatology student. “The work I’m doing is important,” he conveyed, “and they don’t want me to be distracted by your whereabouts. We’re getting close to finding a way to recross the 60° parallel. Can you believe it?” She heard the excitement is his voice and it concerned her. He sensed her thoughts before she could shield them. “Hey,” he said, “don’t you doubt me for a second. I just think it would be nice to be able to grow food outside again. That’s all.” “I get it,” she countered, “I wouldn’t mind a little warmth myself. You should go.” They disconnected.

Magnus had always been more forgiving of his parents for their involvement in the world reset. He saw their actions as the ultimate sacrifice. Mai saw them as naive. They were used for their expertise and, with their help, the most elite of the elite were able to marry the deadliest weaponized virus known to man with the ultimate delivery system, a genetically modified mosquito that could survive in temperatures as low as 20°F. No amount of locking down or social distancing could slow the deadly spread. First Africa and South America fell, then Europe, Asia, Australia, and North America. Only Antarctica and the Arctic circle were spared. The plan was decades in the making and test runs resulted in millions of deaths worldwide that no one dared to explore beyond what was released to the media. World leaders, technology giants, the greatest scientific minds, and anyone with a billion dollars to contribute was spared. And they knew that they couldn’t rebuild society without a multitude of workers. So, they used DNA profiles, willingly submitted to online service providers for entertainment purposes, to identify the strongest and smartest human specimens that also lacked the proclivity to question or challenge authority. Loaded flu vaccinations were unwittingly administered by professional sports teams, pharmacists, family physicians, schools and big tech employers to those who were determined to be worthy. Then, it was just a matter of releasing the superbugs. Not surprisingly, they didn’t know how to control what they created, and mosquitoes forced them into the tundra.

At sunset, Mai refilled the custom helmet and body armor that Magnus built with ice and snow. Black wasn’t an option because it absorbed heat, and metal could reflect the sun and reveal her whereabouts, so she was dressed from head-to-toe in pure white, a human polar bear walking through a blizzard. As she stood to leave, a broken sound cut into her brain. “Jus-…… -der……-end.” What was happening? “Magnus? Are you there?” Nothing. Mai was sick with fear. She told Magnus years ago that she was certain that OWL knew about their abilities. Even before he created the lockets to amplify their bio-signals they could communicate without words. It became such a habit to them that it wasn’t unreasonable to assume that someone could have witnessed this, possibly while they were still children. Why else would they need so many of her eggs? Was it really because she was an athletic, Aryan woman with a high IQ or was there something more? When she suggested the possibility that they were building a telepathic army somewhere, Magnus laughed. She often wondered why they weren’t harvesting his DNA as well. Were they waiting or was he keeping something from her? One day, he shared with her that he came across some cryptic reports in the lab that referred to “exceptional children” and “scientific breakthroughs”. It took another year of covert snooping to locate the facility in Toksovo, an urban settlement near St. Petersburg.

When Mia crested the final ridge that gave way to a panoramic view of Toksovo and its historic railway station, she tried again to reach Magnus. She grasped her locket and inhaled. No vibration, no hum. She made her way down the hill and brushed snow off signs and wayfinders until she saw what she was looking for, the historic location where the writer, Aleksey Nikolayevich Tolstoy once stayed. The irony was not lost on Mai. The snow around the building was undisturbed and she could see no vehicles. There were, however, lights on inside and before she could decide whether to wait until morning to undertake some reconnaissance, the main door inched open. There stood a young boy whose face was the exact replica of Magnus’ face at that age. She approached gingerly and the boy smiled. She had no idea if she was safe, but they seemed to be expecting her. She crossed into the foyer and the boy indicated for her to follow him. She unhooked her packs and placed them onto the hardwood floor. When she instinctively reached for her locket, the metals began to pulsate. The signal was as strong as it had been when Magnus was standing in front of her over a month ago. She followed the boy into a ballroom where he was met by a girl that was his twin. They linked hands and when they stepped aside, she could see that the room was filled with what must have been over two-hundred children, pairs of boys and girls from toddlers to teenagers, every one the spitting image of Magnus and herself at each age. She could hear crying coming from the next room which appeared to be a nursery. She peered in to see rows of basinets, cribs and attendants. Mia covered her face in shock. Finally, a young girl stepped forward. She reached out to reveal Magnus’ locket resting in her palm. Mia’s throat began to tingle as its counterpart burst to life. She locked eyes with the girl and a voice in her head that sounded much like her own said, “Hello Mother.” And the other two hundred voices echoed in unison, “Hello Mother.”