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Heightened: The Federation Series
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HEIGHTENED
The Federation Series
Miria Masdan
HEIGHTENED
The Federation Series
By: Miria Masdan
Published by Miria Masdan
Copyright 2015 by Miria Masdan
Cover Design: Amygdala Design: www.amygdaladesign.net
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be copied, distributed, transmitted, reproduced, or otherwise made available, in any known or future form, or by any known or future means, including without limitation electronic, digital, mechanical, photocopying, printing, recording, or otherwise, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author, except for short quotations in a book review. Any person who does commit any unauthorized act in relation to this book may be liable to criminal and civil actions for damages.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, persons, living or dead, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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DEDICATION
My best friend is my rock and my husband. After almost twenty years we have created a marriage full of crazy and happy. We have learned to fight with grace, and love with ferocity. We have had our highs and our rock bottoms, and we have lived to tell the story.
I’m looking forward to sitting on the porch, rocking in our chairs, listening to the game on the radio, and picking cherry pits.
Contents
DEDICATION
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
CHAPTER FORTY- TWO
CHAPTER FORTY- THREE
CHAPTER FORTY- FOUR
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
CHAPTER FORTY- SIX
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER FORTY- NINE
CHAPTER FIFTY
CHAPTER FIFTY- ONE
CHAPTER FIFTY- TWO
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
COMING SOON
CHAPTER ONE
Quinn
I climb down, next to where the blast shattered the wall like it was glass, and not concrete. I’ve seen attempts to breach our defenses, but nothing like this, no one has ever made a dent in the Federation.
I make it to the ground, and survey the damage. The hole is small, about a foot in diameter. There are no footprints, or any other evidence that might indicate who’s responsible for the attack.
“What do you think,” I ask my friend and commanding officer, Max? “Last I knew our local rebels didn’t have anything close to this type of weapon, or technology.”
“There were four attacks this morning,” Max says. “All of them coordinated, all of them the same.”
“It was more than the blasts,” our friend Smith says. He’s a Defense Officer, just like me and Max. “There were some hellacious energy spikes at the exact same time.”
“They’re testing our defenses,” says Max. “This is just the beginning.”
“What are our directives,” I ask? “Are we still attending the Heightening?”
“Officer Calder,” he says. “Our directives have not changed.”
“But this is more important,” I say, “sir.”
“Tell him, Smith,” he says.
“What?”
“It’s actually fucking awesome,” Smith says. “I’ve never seen anything like it. All these energy spikes seem to be centralized around the Eastern POE.”
“And that means?”
“There are always some spikes, here and there, but these are incredible, strong,” he says. “It’s almost like they were responsible for the blasts.”
“That would mean they came from inside the Federation?”
“Sort of,” he says, “they definitely came from the outside. Look at the blast pattern, no doubt about it, but the command; it came from inside.”
“Alright we need to do a complete scan of the area,” Max says. “The crew is coming soon to fix the wall.”
Smith is a tech guy; he sets up his computers and scans the dead zone, and the forest beyond for any signs of life. I’m a grunt; I pull out my weapon and head into the forest. I search for an hour but find nothing. The woods are quiet.
I find a stream and follow it back towards the wall. It makes me think about home. I’ve been in Defense for two years. I was raised by my aunt and uncle; they were in Defense, and we were stationed at a wall post. There was a forest that I would play in as a kid.
A low beep echoes in my right ear, indicating I have a message. All I have to do is think a command and my program responds, “access text.” The message appears in my field of vision, along with my coordinates, my operating mode, and environmental conditions.
It’s from Max. They’re ready to leave. I pick up my pace and exit the forest west of where the team is located. I follow the tree line. I haven’t gone far when a warning appears on my visual display. It indicates a life force fifty yards to my south.
Whoever it is, they are approaching slowly. They are using the trees as cover. I charge my weapon and continue my projected course. I hear the shuttle before I see it. The life force, must have also heard it; they stop and maintain their position.
The shuttle sets down, and I enter, taking a seat next to Smith. We ascend, hovering over the dead zone. Smith is busy with his equipment.
“Smith, assessment,” demands Max.
“The subject is a fifteen-year-old, off-line female,” he says. “The scan indicates she is armed with a handgun.”
“Follow protocol,” Max says.
“Yes sir,” he says.
Smith enters a code into his tablet, and a low hum vibrates the shuttle. It last for less than ten seconds.
“Report,” Max says.
“The subject has been neutralized,” he says.
“Let’s take a trip over the forest,” Max says. “We can cover the area between here and the river.”
We hover just above the trees. We find eight more life forces, and neutralize them all. Our shift is almost over, so we head back to our post.
I lean my head against the seat and close my eyes. I’m exhausted and conflicted. Our job is to protect the citizens of th
e Federation, at any cost. But killing children playing in the woods, even if they are armed, seems extreme to me.
CHAPTER TWO
Emma
My arms flail out, and I claw and dig my hands into whatever I can find. I grab my sheets and tear then from the mattress. I jolt into a sitting position. My heart thrashes against my chest. I reach down and feel my leg. It’s intact; there’s no blood, no wound. My cheeks are wet, and I blink back tears. I close my eyes and reach my left hand down. I hesitate. I want so badly to feel him beside me: breathing and alive. My heart sinks, as my hands find nothing but the cold mattress. The tears begin again. A knot forms in the back of my throat, and I gasp for air.
“Quinn,” I whimper.
“Emma,” my sister Pam, whispers. “Did you hear that?”
“No,” I say trying to hide my quivering voice.
“It sounded like an explosion,” she says.
“You must have been dreaming,” I say. “Go back to sleep.”
I wait a few minutes, until I can hear her snore. I get up and look out our window. I don’t see anything. The farm looks peaceful, almost magical with the moon highlighting every object.
I curl up under my covers, and immediately start to think about him. I smooth the sheets where he should be sleeping. The fabric is cold. The panic churns in my gut. It always takes a while for me to calm myself down after I have the nightmare. It’s so real, and the heartache that comes from realizing that he is not real, is excruciating.
Sweat drenches my entire body, not a warm exhausted sweat, but a cold, cling to my body make my skin crawl sweat. I pull my covers tight around my face and curl my legs towards my chest. It is bitter for September.
My father said he can’t remember a year that was so cold and wet. Our crops have suffered, and it is the first year we didn’t make our quota. But it is the same across most of the Federation, especially in my territory: Eleven.
I keep my eyes closed. My body is trembling, not from the cold, but from my nightmare. All I can remember are his name, eyes, and the forbidden feelings that wash over my mind and body, in a wave of twisted heat and pain. Whoever he is; he needs my help. I try to save him over and again, but I am never successful. The feelings of failure, loss, and fear consume me. I concentrate on his eyes. They calm me, comfort me and make me feel like everything will be alright. The mere thought of him being near awakens a deep ripple of longing that builds and explodes into a frenzy of uncontrollable emotions, and I am not supposed to be able to feel these emotions. Federation citizens operate a desensitized program, lacking any extreme in the human emotional experience. We perform at an optimal level of emotional stability; which means we are always in a state of normal with no swings into the fringes of emotion.
In order to prevent the deviant behaviors that result from the extremes, sadness, anger, pleasure, and fear are dulled by our programs. The Federation implants each citizen with a receptor that controls our emotional state, monitors our systems, manages our programs, and maintains and repairs minor malfunctions. The initiation of the receptor program was almost fifty years ago, and the Federation has eliminated depression, aggression, addiction, panic, lust and the disease and death associated with the extremes. There are no more senseless crimes. Every citizen works towards the betterment of society and contributes evenly. But I’ve always been heightened. I’ve learned to suppress and hide my emotions, but the older I get, the more intense they become, and the more difficult it is to keep my secret.
My name is Emma Greene. I’m 18 years old and a citizen of the Federation of Territories. I live in the territory of Eleven. Today I become an adult and for one full night I, along with all other adult citizens, will be allowed to live unrestricted and heightened. Tonight I will no longer have to hide. I will be able to tear down my façade and finally be free of my self-inflicted restraint.
I open my eyes and concentrate on my breathing. I need to fall asleep, but all I can think about is advisement and assignment. In 3 hours, my alarm will wake me up for my last year of pre-occupation education. In the morning, I will sit in the forum and wait quietly for the proctors to call my name and one by one, select my order of internships. I will spend the next year learning each essential component of our government: Agricultural, Business, community, Defense, Education, Information, Labor, Medical, Politics, Science, Technology and Transportation. The Federation proctors will then decide based upon my scores, what occupation suits me best. I have no say in the matter. We all have to contribute to our society in the most efficient, meaningful manner possible in order to keep the “machine” they call our government running smoothly. I try to concentrate on the ceremony and my future, but my mind keeps forcing me to think about the Heightening. I have it all planned out; I need to release years of repressed emotions. There is only one person that might get in my way; Adam, my Proctor. He is older than I am, and this is not his first Heightening. He is strict and proper, and he has applied to be my partner. I’m sure he has plans for me tonight, and the thought of him unrestricted is unsettling.
I repeat each component over and over in my head until I finally fall back to sleep. The rest of my night is restless. My mind tends to overwork itself into a mess of stress and craziness. I want to be a good, productive citizen that contributes in a positive, meaningful manner, but I have to remind myself to make conscience decisions about whether my actions are Federation approved. After all, it is what our government wants and needs to keep the peace and security. It is also necessary to forward the Federation’s advancements and to preserve the human race.
CHAPTER THREE
Quinn
“You know the protocol,” Max says. “The decontamination team will meet us, as soon as we get back.”
Smith moans, “None of us even came close enough to get anything from the urchins.”
“It’s better to be over cautious than being responsible for an epidemic,” I say. “Someone had to be there to blast the wall, right?”
“Well, I’m not sure about that,” Smith says. “It’s different than anything I’ve ever seen before. It is possible that it was an off-site blast.”
“We’re going to have to change our protocol,” Max says. “We aren’t prepared for an offensive beyond the dead zone and forest.”
“Old school,” I say, “We had the weapons once; we just haven’t needed to use them in a while.”
Max brings the shuttle down. I look out the window and see the decontamination team waiting for us. I hate being decontaminated. I was ten years old the first time I had to go through it. My parents were Defense too, and they brought something back with them. But it wasn’t the pain, or the nauseating medications; it was the waiting for them to return. They never did; they contracted the virus that was what the Federation told me. They were sent out beyond the dead zone, into the wastelands.
I enter the first shower; the water is freezing. My entire body violently trembles. My teeth are clattering. I focus on keeping my tongue tight to the roof of my mouth, so I don’t bite it. I hear a low beep; I check my visual display. I have a message, “access text.”
COMMAND: unclench fists.
I ease my hands open, allowing my fingers to stretch. It’s another full minute before the alarm sounds, and the water turns off. I face the door. It opens, and I enter the scorching shower. By the time I am done, my skin is bright red, and pulsing with pain. The last shower consists of an anti-microbial wash, and it stings my raw skin. I enter the drying chamber, and then the small room, where I will receive a series of five shots and three pills.
After my decontamination, I head straight for my quarters. The medicine always makes me nauseous. I take a few bites of an apple, and then lie down. My head is already spinning. I cover my face with my pillow and concentrate on not throwing up because the last thing I want to do is take another round of pills.
I can’t sleep. My mind won’t depart with the guilt I feel about killing the nine rebels. Why do they allow their kids to enter the d
ead zone? We call it that for a reason; everyone caught within a 1000 yards of the wall is killed, no exceptions. The blast negated any leniency allowed in the past.
The Federation has slacked on some of their laws and punishments over the years. We’ve been at peace for so long, and the system seems to be working to its fullest potential. But in the last few months intrusions into the dead zone have increased, and there have been crimes within the Federation. At first we attributed the crimes to flaws in the Federation program, but Technology ruled out any flaws. The Federation Council is holding a special session in five days to determine the necessary protocol to ensure the continued success of the Federation. A week ago, Defense was issued an order to neutralize, without discrimination, any life force within the thousand-yard dead zone. I anticipate the council will expand that distance further into the wastelands. But if Smith is correct, and the rebels have developed an off-site weapon, it might not be enough to protect the wall.
I check the connection of my receptor to the post’s wireless access and then close my eyes. The pain blocker kicks in, and I fall into a deep sleep. The medication and my program will monitor and repair my skin, by morning I will be as good, as new.
I wake to Smith shaking me. I swat at him and mumble a few choice words under my breath. He lands a hard kick to the edge of my bed. I sit up ready to level him.
“What the Hell,” I shout.
“Whoa,” he steps back, “Dude, didn’t you hear the alarm?’
I shake my head. The emergency alarm is blaring, and my visual display is beeping in my ear.
“The wall post is under attack,” he’s out of breath.
I throw on my clothes and grab my gear. We’re on a shuttle in less than ten minutes. It takes us thirty minutes to get to the wall post. By the time we arrive, they have destroyed everything. We scan for life force, but no one survived.
CHAPTER FOUR
Emma
I jolt out of bed and stumble, catching a foot on the braided rug beside my bed and nearly falling into my desk chair. I stand with my head resting on the door frame. My visual display usually emits a low beep, but because I have ignored turning off my alarm, it is now a higher intensity beep that hurts my ears. A shiver rushes from my bare toes to my head, causing an uncontrollable tremor.