Project Altius

A Story by Alex Greenslade

 WELCOME TO PROJECT ALTIUS!

Is what the flyer told Bryan Hayes in big, bold letters.

If you have received this flyer, then that means we, The American Sectors
government, believe you may posses powers relating to the supernatural. It is in
our, and your, best interest to join this project as soon as possible!

What is Project Altius?

Project Altius is our new and experimental way to catch high-profile
terrorists. By using the brilliant strength and minds of these gifted humans, well
be able to stop terrorism in no time!

Participants
Cole Lombardi(Age Unknown, looks to be in his 20s? electronic and light
manipulation)
Clara Norton(Aged 18, Seemingly immortal)
Heather Hamilton (Aged 16, healing abilities?)
Julia Sullivan(Aged 17, telekinesis and teleportation)
Ned Snow(Aged 16, Unknown Abilities)
Administrator
Norman Zefania
See you soon!

Eh, not interested. Bryan said, with a slightly suspicious tone.

The agent looked at him, his cold, brown eyes covered by round and black sunglasses.
His smile, fake as it was, attempted to paint a different picture.

Mr. Hayes, Id very much advise you to join. The Agent spoke with an overtly friendly
tone.

ot
But why should I? I thought terrorists weren't an issue anymore. And honestly, Im n
interested.

The Agent continued his motionless charade, looking more like a professionally dressed
statue then a human. No response from Bryan s words, other than the continuation of an off
putting smile.
 I mean, you know, my parents, arent they supposed to be like aware of this? Bryan
ruffled his black hair.

Why, of course they are. Theyre under the assumption you agreed to this, which is
theoretically true, although you dont look all that willing to agree with this

Bryan was nervously swaying back and forth. His green eyes marked the Agents gun
holster, and returned to meet his face. Better not piss this guy off look at him hes contradictory
all over...

Anyway, I know that flyer implies you have a choice, but you really dont. I mean, you
could always just say no, but then Ill be forced to come back, and you could say no to that too.
His smile twitched. But theyll keep sending me back. It doesn't matter if you move, the
Ancients watch us all. All the government has to do is ask for you're tapes. And theyll give it up,
because they dont care. And at that point, you have two options; you cave in, or I make you
cave.

His smile once again faltered, almost turning it into a frown. But it persisted.

Bryan was shivering with fear.

Don't shut the door he might get an-

He shoved his hand into his pocket, causing the Agent to tense up, and put one foot on
the doorframe. The door swung down, but came to a stop halfway, and slid back up. Bryan
cried out, and stepped back, repeatedly pushing the large button on a remote to no avail.

Please, lets get this over with. He said in a haggard parody of happiness. Will you be
fighting against the terrorists?

Bryan s eyes dilated for a split second, before returning to normal

No, Ill be safe and sound with Ned Snow. He felt a calm wave soothe him.

Feel better? Good, now please sign some paperwork.

The two walked into Bryan s abode. Entering the living room, carpeted, and inhabited by
two leather couches, a marble table, and a large, flatscreen TV broadcasting the news. It
seemed to about something completely mundane; a man attempting to sue his niece over a
cereal carton, which was quickly denied by the law of the land. The Agent looked up, and
observed the small, but noticeable camera lens, eyeing both of them.
 They both sat down, the agent handing Bryan a ballpoint pen. He looked at it curiously,
wondering if he collected these obselete things. Nevertheless, Bryan skimmed through the
waiver, which stated that The American Sectors Government, as well as the Ancients Empire,
are not responsible for any death, injury, or other sorts of harm, unless proven otherwise with
solid evidence.

Any participants may not also leak any information pertaining to this operation, as our
top secret info is in the public's hands, but isnt in the public hands. Any member found leaking
information will be given a slap on the wrist by our an agent specialized with wrist slapping.

Uh huh this checks out, Bryan thought to himself. Indeed, how could it not make sense?

Signing the papers with difficulty, he found himself unfluent with the old way of writing.
Why they still held up this tradition bothered him. But what also bothered him was this whole
terrorism thing and what they wanted him to do. What if he was only prosecuting terrorists,
people the government wants you to think are terrorists?

He asked The Agent what they meant by terrorist

The same who people who committed todays calamity.

What cal-

Only to jump in surprise, as the TV suddenly changed to a very special announcement,

narrated by a cold, monotone voice;

CItizens of Harth Valley, New Oregon.

We bring you a special announcement, brought to you by the American Sectors

Government. Today we face a horrific tragedy of unknown origin. Two young ancients,
Jacelyn Thomas aged 18, and Landan Moore, aged 21, opened fire on a government
building at 12:00PM. Both were neutralized by responding officials 5 minutes later.

According to official sources, the casualties have ranked up to be 7. 4 were

government officials, while 3 were onlookers observing the building. 24 were wounded in
the attack, all were government officials. Due to this unfortunate incident, the Official
Treaty of Friendship between the Americans and Ancients has been postponed,
allowing our officials to heal.

Please repeat this, Bryan said with a new feeling of dread, Who were the casualties of
the newest bombing of Harth Valley, New Oregon?
 The Agent repeated this question. They sat in silence for what seemed like a half an
hour. Bryan pulled out his tablet, and checked the time and date;

June 18th, 2168, 4:35PM

ime does fly when your grieving. He

He whistled in his mind. It had been a half an hour. T
suddenly realized he was crying.

as caught in the blast radius.

One of his friends, Roger White, w

I have to fight them I have to I have to fight them-

Bryan thought about a scenario. He and/or his friends, eating at a cafe, maybe watching
some games on the TV. When suddenly, a sketchy young man or woman walks past them.
They look at them, and think of nothing. After all, nothing bad could happen to them, right?

Then they pull something out of their coat, and out comes an assault rifle. They load in
the clip, and start to fire. One of the bullets hits Bryan in his lung, and he collapses on the
ground, trying desperately to breath. Oh god, how could this have happened to me, how could
th-

We should go now. Its getting late.

Oh, sorry. Bryan responded, broken from his trance. He shaked his head, and got up.
He followed The Agent, pulling out the remote control-looking device, and shutting his metallic
door with it. He locked it with an adjacent, smaller button and carefully obscured it by the grass
next to his porch. Bryan looked up at the sensor, facing earthward.

It made a beeping noise as they walked passed it, following them. Still looking at it, he
waved goodbye, the sensor catching it all. His expression was that of a man unsure of what was
to come. Once they made it to The Agents car, the sensor depressed downward once more,
now waiting for his parents to come by.

So his parents could review all that had happened, and wonder, especially with their
tears, how their only son couldve been taken from so quickly, and if they would ever see him
again.

Indeed, would they ever see each other again?

That was apart of Bryan s thoughts, one of the many that slithered through his mind, as
The Agent punched in an address, pressed a big blueish button (matching the rest of the car's
color) and it drove the two of them off.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 Hey, will I see my parents again? Bryan asked the Agent.

The latter, relaxed, hesitated for a bit, before adjusting himself. He turned on some
classical music, Mozart, Bryan swore that was it, from the old world.

Sorry, but I wont answer that.

Bryan looked at him, while The Agent looked out the window. The car continued to drive
efficiently and at a nice speed.

I have a right to know.

Sure you do... but anything can happen, you know?

Is this some kind of joke?! How do I get out of this ca-

Is Project Altius all just a lie? Is the American Sectors government going to kill Bryan
Hayes?

Brains eyes dilated once more.

No, no they wont. Project Altius isnt a lie. Sorry, guess Im just a little nervous about all
this.

I cant blame you, most of the others werent. The Agent said, his voice much more
relaxed now. Say, which one was relaxed?

Heather certainly wasnt, although that wasnt because she wasnt in control of the
situation. He whistled a tune, Wait, that wasnt true.

The rest of the ride was silence, except for what was... Moonlight Sonata? By... Mozart.
Yes, it was by Mozart. Mozart from the old world. It would be silly to attribute this work of art to
the new Mozart. The new Mozart was a complete sellout, selling crappy techno.

Techno, for some strange reason, was out of style. And that made Bryan s body shake
with rage.

He was breathing heavily now, now that techno was suddenly playing, after that beautiful
piece of art.

To hell with this music., Bryan mumbled to himself, as the drive was continued only by
silence and techno bullshit. His mind silently weeped the whole way.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 The car arrived at its short destination at around 5:07PM. Facing them was a small, but
gated government building, towers posted at each corner. Guards patrolled all around the fence,
armed with heavy looking automatic rifles. On the towers, Bryan could make out guards
wielding marksman rifles. The building itself was painted white, with sparse windows dotting the
establishment. Its grass was brown, drying out due to an absence of care from the government.

What is this, some sort of prison? Bryan wondered, a weird sort of rush overtaking him,
and he suddenly felt excited and giddy.

Welcome to your temporary stay, the Agents faux-kindness had returned, visitation
from the outside world is permitted, in fact, they could even move in with you. his smile returned
once more, For example- wait hold on.

The car arrived at the checkpoint. The window automatically rolling down, a guard
looked in, and requested the agent's ID. He pulled it out, and handed it to the guard, who
scanned it, gave it back to him, and gave the ok to man at the booth. The steel wall opened,
sliding to the left, and the car cruised right on in.

Automatically stopping in a parking space, the Agent and Bryan got out, making their
way towards the building.

For example, one of our members, Ned Backman, lives with his girlfriend here. Dont
ask me how they got one approved. Guess its their insistence on being completely abstinence.

They continued to walk, Bryan s mind heavily reigning in thought. That is, until the Agent
pushed him back. A car whizzed by the both of em.

Holy shit! Bryan cried out.

You need to pay attention, Mr. Hayes..

Bryan was about to say something, but kept his mouth shut, eyeing the gun holster
once more. They continued to walk.

But whatever, the driver mustve been an Ancient fresh from the Empire. Most of emve
never seen a car before, much less heard a one. Ah, here we are.

A guard at the door gestured for his card. He took it out, she scanned it, then gave it
back to him. The doors slid to the left and right automatically, and they walked in.

And by the way, call me Agent Rosetta. Spoke Agent Rosetta.

 The interior was more interesting to look at then the exterior, but only barely. Most of it
was coated in a dull gray. Bryan looked down, and saw the floor painted with a red carpet,
extending towards a receptionist desk. The receptionist wasnt at her desk, and instead, there
were two agents in the storage room outback, playing cards.

Sighing, Agent Rosetta leaned on the boof window, observing what was going on. They
seemed to be playing poker, the iconic chips and wads of money

Bryan looked all around the room; he saw two people with lab coats, discussing
something. Some soldiers were patrolling the room, one accidentally bumping into an agent.
The soldier hastily picked up his gun, said his apologies, and continued to patrol. Indeed, the
strangest sight of them all, was a man with red hair and blue eyes, arguing loudly with two
agents. They had just exited out of a room.

-Mr. Barcelona, we understand that your big, rich, and famous-

You bet your asses I am! Now I ain't gonna say it again; give me this entire fucking
cooperation, now! NOW NOW NOW NOW!

One of the agents groaned loudly.

For the last time, Mr. Barcelona, even if we wanted to, we cant! We dont have the
authority-

The two agents and Mr. Barcelona, walked out of the door by then

Thats the second time hes been here this week. Agent Rosetta groaned, Poor guys,
having to deal with that prick.

Rosetta turned around and jumped slightly. The receptionist was back, her reptilian eyes
looking at him.

My apologies. Do you have your ID? She said in a bored tone.

Oh my god put some goddamn contacts on lady-

Thats rude of you think, sir. She said, staring at Bryan .

What? What are you talking about-

Yet Agent Rosetta wouldnt have any more bickering today. He shoved the ID in her
face. She took it, scanned it, and gave it back to him.
 Ah, I see. Transportation of another.

She slammed a button, opening a door next to the office.

Right on through then, add- gentlemen.

The two walked through the door, and into a dull, empty hallway. Light shining down
upon them. A few seconds later they were in an elevator, where Rosetta pushed 2B, and the
elevator started to descend downward. Nice, soothing elevator music started to play.

Seriously, techno?! Bryan angrily spat out.

What? This isnt techno, its dubstep!

What the hell is dubstep?!

I dont know, but its what the old world called this-

My god its worse than techno!

Soon afterwards, the music stopped playing, and the smooth elevator music came to a
stop. Bryan sighed in relief. The doors opened, and the two stepped out, walking through yet
another corridor.

That is, until they stopped at a white door, marked with a gold plated sign stating
RESIDENCE OF ALL PROJECT ALTIUS MEMBERS! Next to it was a scanner.

Rosetta held his ID in front of the scanner, which did its job. The door opened, revealing
a large, oval shaped room, filled with white walls and steel doors, each marked with a distinctly
colored X. Bright red, white, bright orange, dark blue, dark green, brown.

Why not use normal signs, Bryan thought to himself. Approaching the white door, a low
voice named its occupant; Ned Snow. He quickly found out who owned which room;
dark blue = Cole
dark green = Julia
white = Ned
orange = Clara
Bright red = Heather
brown = himself

I hate the color brown! He cried out. His brown jacket shuddered a little, before
resuming its static act. The door opened, and Bryan entered, gasping to see that the entire
room was recently coated in thick, brown paint. Some of paint was still drying, and the smell
made him gag.

Suddenly, under the brown jackets command, the paint oozed from the walls. It formed
a sickly, gloopy ball that towered over Bryan and began to inch its way towards him.

Meanwhile, Mabel Zefania was dealing with Julia Sullivan's parents on phone.

Uh huh, uh huh... no, Project Altius cannot guarantee your daughter's absolute
survivability, but we promise well make sure she comes home in one piece. No, we did not
force her to sign our waivers and paperwork. That is immoral and we as an organization are
above such actions. We understood that she is still a minor, however s he signed the papers on
her own accord. Project Altius needs its members on a very short notice, and we apologize for
leaving you and your wife out of the signings. Sir, sueing us is moot; We have an order from the
world leaders nullifying the courts. I hope youll understand. Have a nice day.

Treever slammed the phone back on its receiver, wiping sweat from his forehead. His
foot started tapping the ground, and he soon found himself shaking in anger. Anger directed at
himself.

You liar how could you lie to them like that you dont know them you havent even seen
their daughter yet how could y-

Thats when Bryan 's screaming, faint as it was, reached his ears. His thoughts ran to a
halt, as he listened intently. Yep, that was definitely yelling alright. What was he saying?
Treever concentrated on the yelling, and in a few moments realized what he was saying.

Is this some kind of joke?

Rosetta, are you there? He

Yep

I need you to investigate that screaming.

Sorry sir, but Im a little- busy.

Excuse me? I pay you and your accomplices to

 OPEN UP, OPEN UP! Bryan yelled in frantic hysteria, banging on his neighbors door.
It shortly opened, and Julia Sullivan stood there.

What are- Julia tried to speak, but found herself tackled to the ground by Bryan s blind
rush.

Shut the door! Shut the door!

I cant! I cant!

Shut the door!

Sighing in frustration, Julias eyes dilated, and the door came rushing down, creating a
sound equivalent to thunder.

Oh thank god, you saved my life! Bryan said with utmost joy, failing to consider that he
was still on top of Julia, who was struggling to get free. A few moments later she gave up, and
lifted Bryan up in the air. He cried out in surprise, before he was gently relaxed upon a plump
leather chair...

that was brown.

OH GOD, OH GOD Bryan screamed. He scrambled out of the chair and threw himself
upon the closed door. Julia threw her hands up in frustration.

OPEN UP OPEN UP SHES TRYING TO KILL ME! Bryan howled. Julia grabbed him
and forcefully set him down on a green, plush couch. He struggled, and continued to struggle as
Julia interrogated him about what his problem was.

No Im not! For gods sake, whats wrong with that chair?

nything for you! Please

You you already know why! Please, Ill do anything, a

Anything, eh? This tempting, evil popped into her head, but was quickly shelved into the
void. Taking advantage of the mentally ill is wrong, even if theyre pissing me off.

lly, man. You know, we help each

For the last time, Im not going to kill you! Im your a
other out and not kill each-

Whats all this screaming about? Julia turned around to spot Cole Lombardi, residing
within the doorframe. His posture rang of
 Mr. British person, I implore you, save me from this girl! I- my life is quite important!
Really,