Chapter Text
“Doctor Marisol Sòng?”
I looked up from my desk, where I had a stack of tests I was grading. My classroom had been full of groans and “Miss, do we have too?” when I announced the pop quiz, but they got excited when I told them we’d be playing Jeopardy afterwards.
The woman who walked into the room was severe, her blonde hair pulled into a low ponytail, her back ramrod straight. I don’t think I’d ever seen a woman exude so much confidence.
No, that wasn’t quite right. She walked with authority.
I stood up at my desk, simply assuming this was one of my students’ parents. Which was odd, because none of my students called me doctor. It was always just “Miss.” Not even Miss Song, just “Miss.” So just who could this woman be, if not a parent? Its not like they just let anyone into the school.
“Yes, that’s me. To whom do I owe the pleasure?” I asked, offering my hand out and flashing my most polite teacher smile.
I’ve found the parents were much less likely to yell at me if I smiled while greeting them. The more disarming I could be, the better.
“My name is Eva Stratt. I’m with the Petrova Taskforce,” She replied, taking the offered hand and giving it a firm shake before withdrawing.
I tilted my head as I looked over at this woman. She spoke with some kind of European accent. German, I think. Or was it Dutch? It had been a while since I’d been to Europe. Not since Mãe passed away, I think.
“Is there something I can help you with?” I asked, my eyebrows knitting together.
The name Petrova stuck in my head. But where had I heard it before?
Petrova… Petrova…. Oh! The Petrova Line! But wait, what does that have to do with me?
I watched as she stuck her hand into her oversized bag and pulled out a thick stack of paper. I felt a sense of dread like a pit in my stomach as she glanced at the front then held it face-out to me.
“Is this your paper?”
I knew what it was before she even showed it to me. In big block letters across the front, the title of the paper read ‘An Analysis of Water-Based Assumptions and Recalibration of Expectations for Evolutionary Models.’
I cringed, fighting the urge to hide under my desk in the face of my greatest academic shame. She must’ve seen everything she needed to know in my expression. I was frequently told I’m a bit of an open book, emotionally speaking, so I shouldn’t be surprised.
The woman in front of me idly flipped through a few pages. “The content is quite interesting, even if the title is a bit dull, in my opinion.”
“I’m sorry, but that paper got me chased out of academia so I really don’t-”
“Was it the paper, or calling an eminent scientist a ‘staggering waste of carbon’?” Eva Stratt asked, glancing up from the paper and quirking an eyebrow.
I all but shrunk back from her stern gaze. “Okay well.. that certainly didn’t help. But I’m just a teacher now, I have nothing to do with academia,” I said, waving my hand in an imitation of nonchalance.
I would hope she didn’t notice I was completely feigning it, but somehow she seemed like the type of woman who missed nothing.
“You’re a high school teacher. Is that not still academia?” she asked, though I don’t think she actually wanted an answer.
“I mean, maybe peripherally. But my point still stands! I’m not part of that world anymore,” I said, looking down and stacking the papers on my desk neatly just for something to do with my hands and avoid the gaze of this human panopticon.
I start trying to pack my things away. Since it’s the end of the day, maybe I can tell her that I have some prior commitment like a meeting or something to go to, but the next thing she says stops me in my tracks.
“You are aware of the ArcLight probe and the Petrova Line, I presume?”
I pause, still half bent over to pick up my bag from the floor. I stand up slowly, setting my bag on my desk.
“Of course I have. I wouldn’t be a very good science teacher if I wasn’t,” I say, keeping my tone cautious. “It’s coming back soon, right?”
“Yes. In a few days, it will be collected by Roscosmos from low-Earth orbit,” she confirmed, keeping her level gaze on me.
I did my best not to squirm as I replied, “I’m sorry, but what does this have to do with me?”
“Do you think those dots are alive, Dr. Sòng?”
That sinking feeling in my gut returned. I stuffed papers into my bag, my hands shaking. Something didn’t feel right. I didn’t like this impending sense of doom starting to trickle into my veins.
“I.. don’t know. It could just be cosmic dust blocking the light. I wouldn’t want to speculate what they are without any further information,” I replied, lifting my back up onto my shoulder.
Once again, Eva Stratt raised her eyebrow at me. “Are you not a speculative biologist?”
“Semantics,” I replied before I could filter myself, waving my hand again.
I was tense, starting to pack away what I needed quicker before deciding to just leave some of the papers behind. My astronomy class can wait another few days to get their tests back, I just wanted to get out of here. I didn’t like the panic bubbling inside me the more I spoke to her.
I started toward the door, assuming she would get the hint and follow and leave.
“I want you to study the ArcLight samples, Dr. Sòng.”
Once again, Eva Stratt managed to stop me in my tracks. I felt rooted to the ground, the little mad scientist in me suddenly jumping at the prospect of getting back in the lab. I quashed that feeling before it could take root.
“I told you I’m not a researcher anymore,” I said quietly.
“This isn’t an optional request, Dr. Sòng,” Stratt said, her tone sharp and cold.
I took a deep breath, looking over my shoulder back at her. “It seems optional to me. Good evening, Ms. Stratt.”
I turned and walked out of my classroom door, fighting the urge to run to my car. I knew I would get in trouble for leaving a stranger in the school and not locking the classroom door after I left, but I could feel the start of an anxiety attack settling into my bones and had to get out of there before I suffocated.
It was usually hell trying to navigate the school parking lot after school (which is why I usually stay later), but thankfully I was able to get my trusty VW Beetle on the road in record time. My hands were shaking, but the focus I put on the road was grounding and got me (mostly) out of my head. For a little while, at least.
By the time I pulled up to my apartment I was feeling calmer, but still uneasy. I parked my car, leaning my forehead against the steering wheel and letting out a loud, dramatic sigh. I was looking forward to getting into my apartment, putting on my favorite sweatpants and sweater, and-
I lifted my head, looking toward my apartment building. Outside, looking directly at my car, were several men in dark, tailored suits. Parked on the curb were multiple SUVs with tinted windows.
While I couldn’t see any badges, I’m not sure these men could look any more like federal agents if they tried.
I guess it really wasn’t optional.