The Listening Room

In the last chapter, Mother put a grand plan to rest. Welcome back to The Listening Room for the last installment of “Hypnotic”. 9.A car door opened and a weathered black boot stepped onto the dirt road. The door closed with a hollow thud as the person approached a circular clearing pressed down with gravel. Atop it was a dark green picnic table and a nearby grill which had seen better days. Beyond it was a modern rectangular cabin with smooth siding and a sloped roof with a water barrel at one side.David sat at the picnic table in a pair of pale denim jeans and a gray hoodie. His feet were bare. He swept his toes against the coarse rocks, back and forth as if it were a ritual. He focused on the feel of the coarse and uneven stones against his skin. They were warm from the afternoon sun and pressed onto a layer of sand. He dug his toes in deeper and swirled it into the sand.Approaching footfalls pulled him out of his trance. He looked up to see a face he knew well, though he couldn’t believe she was real. The moment of recognition curdled to a deep and rising disgust. The corner of his lip curled in a half scowl.“I should properly introduce myself. I’m Toby.”He looked at her outstretched hand, but didn’t take it, then tracked his eyes up to her face, studying it for a few moments.Her pleasant expression wilted and she withdrew her hand, stuffing it into her pocket.“Mother…” he said plainly.“Her too,” she said, standing awkwardly just beyond the bench seat, waiting for an invitation. David had already looked away, shaking his head and rubbing the back his neck with his hand. She would buzz around despite his swatting, so with a deep sigh, he motioned for her to sit. She sprang from her spot onto the seat across from him.Her presence was a collision of the surreal and sobering, like meeting a book character in real life. But Toby, who looked mostly the same as her dream avatar, was flesh and blood, a realization which thrust him into a state of surprise over and over like a skipping record. The amethyst eyes were actually a honey brown. It was a shame to have covered them with jewels since they were already so striking. Mother’s intricate updo was now a high brown puff with blonde tips.“What are you doing here?” he asked. “Thought I said not to bother coming.“I-I wanted to see you, uh, check up on, h-how you were doing,” she stammered.Toby’s face was a plea for absolution, only David wasn’t close at all to forgiveness. He narrowed his eyes at her, his scowl cutting lines into his face. He let the uncomfortable silence linger. He wanted her to feel it, some juvenile stab at justice, but it was what he had. He crossed his legs at the ankles and rested an elbow on the table, not breaking her gaze. She fidgeted.“How are you?” she asked, leaning in across the table.He rubbed his palms against the thighs of his jeans. He didn’t want her here or even to tell her how he’d been these last few months alone. The truth was a piston ready to fire and he couldn’t hold back.“Okay, I guess. The open space helps,” he said, relenting with a shaky exhale. “Mancuso, right?”“Yeah,” she said, her face brightening with a twinge of something like hope.“I looked you up. You were much too smart to get wrapped up with those people,” he said.Toby’s shoulders fell, tacking on his disappointment on top of everyone else’s. She could feel her stomach twist into knots then loosen even in this brief conversation. She wanted so badly to break through the membrane between them, to know someone she’d only observed through images on a screen. She knew they were both navigating the discomfort of meeting what only existed in a phase of reality.“I wanted to be mad at you, as angry as I was at the rest for their parts in this, but you were different. I saw what you were trying to do,” he said.She nodded in agreement. It was all she was going to get and all she deserved. They said nothing for a while and listened to the sounds of the forest. Chipmunks chased each other through the brush, as David stared out onto the tree line. What he needed most was time to untangle what had been scrambled. The test runs were not idle experiments, but forms of torture that bent reality to where the colors were melded and couldn’t be distinguished from one another. He needed to engage with nature and re-establish the definition in the colors of his world.“Tell me about the project,” David said firmly.Toby straightened up on the bench and folded her hands. There was so much to tell and she pinched her eyebrows together. Start simple, she thought.“Vincent Vogel and Molly Fitzgerald were the heads of the project. Her ideas and his execution. Somewhere the design got… perverted or maybe it was the entire point,” she said retreating into her thoughts.“What do you mean?” he asked.“Controlling a human mind is the ultimate high,” she said.David nodded for her to proceed.“There were seven of you, each playing a role in the assassination plan. Some members were for purely misdirection while others were helpers to lay resources out. Each was in the same facility where you stayed and were evaluated for particular aptitudes. There’s a variety of different types of dreamers—“Toby broke off when she looked up at him, self conscious about the amount of information she was laying out. The theory was not as relevant as the people. She continued.“So, there were seven. Number one was Peter. The day of the assassination attempt, he induced your hypnotic state using the same totem you were already programmed with, that yellow square along with a key phrase. Number two was the assistant at the senator’s office. She turned off the security cameras and left the senator’s office door unlocked. Number three supplied the weapon and served as your double. Four and five were false witnesses at a coffee shop on the corner. Those three, numbers three, four, and five, provided misdirection for your escape. Authorities would swarm the immediate area but also chase you uptown. Meanwhile, you’d be headed west. Number six handled evidence plants to point to someone else. You were the seventh. Vincent never wanted to kill that senator, though, just show that it could be done. Got to admit it’s a bold show of power,” she said.The information was heavy and he dipped his chin to his chest under its weigh, swaying his head slowly from side to side. Questions flooded his brain about the plot that was years in the making. There must be thousands of pages of research notes, terabytes of data from the test runs, and hours upon hours of surveillance tape. They made a choice everyday to gradually pry him away from his senses.David sat quietly with fluttering eyelids, pressing play in his mind. His vision drew in close to notice the black bird on his tote bag, then wide to see two laughing women arm-in-arm walk past him to the coffee shop on the corner. His head was a fuzzy lump of tv static where little could break through. He heard the click of departing heels as he climbed the stars to the senator’s office and the calm that settled in his belly as he was sure every piece was moved into its proper place. His steps swung backward in a blur, rewinding to the subway and the blackness that overtook him before he got off the train.David’s tipped his head up and his jaw creaked open. Toby sat in tense silence, watching the crashing waves of truth lap over his wet eyes. She didn’t disturb the process, only scrunched her face in a pained expression. It’s coming together, she thought.Inside his spooled memory, he was stuck. There were only snippets in the moments before his descent, save for the rock of the train in a soundless void. He tugged at the tape, but it didn’t go beyond that moment and he feared he’d lose it all, so he relaxed.Spit had pooled in his open mouth and he pulled his bottom lip in before it dribbled out. He wiped his mouth with the heel of hand and shook the memories loose.“Why?” he asked in a desperate plea.“It’s a valuable process with few leaks that would have no shortage of buyers,” Toby said.“So, just lure people in like they did to me and subject them to experiments to see how suggestible they are,” David said. It’s wasn’t a question.“Exactly. But further than that, how the individual can be best used. Each person has a profile generated that’s linked to a role. That’s how you build the team.”“Do the others know?” he asked.“They don’t. They didn’t go through what you did, so they just went about their lives afterward. I think for now, the cops don’t even have them at all. There’s the senator’s assistant Gianna so far. Poor girl is taking a lot of heat right now,” Toby said.“Such a shame. It wasn’t her fault,” David said.“That’s how these setups work. The New Directions rehab facility was a funnel for some of the more rigorously tested subjects like you. If a subject could not be used and seemed suggestible enough, we would plant a backstory and send them to treatment to cover everything up. Bury the truth,” she said.He nodded and was quiet for a moment before raising his head to speak.“What will happen to Vincent and Molly?” he asked.She laughed bitterly and tipped her head to one side, weighing the possibilities.“I released what I called The Kill Shot to local government about the kidnapping and fraud, but nothing on the experiments. They’ve both been arrested. And since the facility they ran was a farce, the residents are being re-evaluated and assessed for release. Another company will take over the building.“I’m not confident Vincent will serve any time. Someone very wealthy had to help put this all together. The tunnels connecting the parts of this project, as far as I can tell, stretch a long way.Molly may not go down. While she’s behind a lot of the core project, juries don’t like to convict tall, pale, redheads. Pretty sure it’s a little know fact.She chuckled at her own joke. David couldn’t tell if she saved that one up just for him, so he politely let the corner of his mouth rise to register his amusement.“Why didn’t you tell anyone about the experiments?”“Because. Better to be arrested for white collar crime than be known as an evil scientist. The government loves those. I want to bury the project, so I took everything.”“You have all the files?” he asked.She nodded. “Everything. I’m the only one who can read it all.”David stiffened. He was suddenly cautious of this small woman. He narrowed his eyes.“What will you do with it?” His voice quavered.“Study it. Get to the bottom of how they were able to get inside your mind.”“Why not just destroy it?” He was gripping the seat between his knees and breaking splinters free. He drew in gulps of air to steady himself.“The minute you find whatever key you’re looking for, someone will take it from you. It’s what happens to every do-gooder in a story. Destroy it,” he said through clenched teeth.Toby leaned back and the choice lingered between them. She was caught in the desire to know and to preserve the information. It was unlikely the project had been entirely a secret so she had to be able to scramble it so no one else could put it together. She admitted quietly to herself that collecting the files would put all the pieces together. Once she figured it out, she could bury those pieces.David broke through her thoughts.“It’s not a battle you can win,” he said. “Evil finds a way no matter what. You had some control in the dream world and I appreciate you trying to make the best of a s**t situation, but not out here. Your hands don’t stretch that far. I think you already know that,” he said.She massaged the webbing between her right thumb and forefinger. It was hard to admit he was right. In the dream world she walked on air, but out here, she was barely over 5 feet tall and a computer nerd. She was also a coward for hiding in the shadows and playing puppet master with David’s dreams. The information was not just valuable, it was dangerous.“You’re right,” she conceded. “People would probably kill me for this research.”“Yeah,” David agreed. “Or they’d make you work for them. Or worse… scramble your brain to trap you in the hell Victor talked about.”“You remember that?”“The insomnia is back, but it’s mostly because I’m afraid to go to sleep. Guess the treatment was a bust,” David said.They both heavily breathed out, then caught each other’s eyes and smiled. They were silent for a while, tracking the sun against the sky as it beat down on the cabin by the lake. At some point, David rose to get drinks and snacks. They ate and chatted about idle things, not like old friends but people who were linked by where they came from.Toby could see a friendship blossom as she belly laughed to one of David’s animated stories. He was sincere and funny, while she was delightfully awkward and charitable. She liked him and could tell David felt genuinely about her. They would see each other again and she would continue to do her penance little by little.“Make no mistake, it was still cruel. I still grieve Sam and Carmine sometimes, but I’m forgetting their faces. The dreams aren’t vivid like they were in the facility. Part of me is glad for that but the other part doesn’t want to let them go yet,” he said.“I could pull some images from my files if you want. Keepsakes,” she suggested.“Nah. Not right now,” he said.He could feel his breath hitch as sobs knocked against the back of his throat. He held them back.“I don’t want to talk about that anymore. Not right now. Just stay with me.”As her spinning wheels threw bits of gravel into the air, Toby stuck her hand out the window to wave goodbye. David studied the fingers of her outstretched hand, counting one, two, three, four…and five. Just in case.David turned away and his smile fell. Toby was a sweet girl, but still the enemy after all and the less suspicious she was, the better. It had been hard humoring her, like the slow creep of a lackluster date, where he filled her need to be heard even though he wasn’t listening. The test runs taught him well and he did get the information he needed. He would meet her again for more until he got his hands on the files himself and assured they were destroyed.He lied about the insomnia. The truth was he slept more than ever, practically nodding off at the dinner table each night. But he was also free and in the end, that’s what mattered. He was no longer a weapon.David went back into the cabin, rung out from his performance. After a quick shower, he changed into the pair of shorts and tee tucked under his pillow. He plopped onto the bed and sleep drifted in like a fast-moving fog. His eyelids drooped like they were made of lead and his vision doubled trying to keep them open. Before he felt asleep, he needed a certainty. At least one. It’s how he knew it was all real. He lifted up his left hand and it bobbed within that fog, phasing in and out.He snapped his head the side to sharpen his focus on his hand, his certainty. But all his muscles were so relaxed and felt like jelly. He felt himself sinking into the mattress deeper and deeper. He blinked hard and focused again on his hand, but really didn’t want to bother. He was no longer a prisoner of an egotistical maniac bent on creating human weaponry. It was just him in this cabin, alone and safe. Carmine and Sam were not real. Vincent and Molly were in jail. The underground facility lay stripped of its equipment and shrouded in darkness. It was over.David rubbed his eyes and yawned. His hand weighed a ton and he let it drop onto his chest. Out of habit, he counted anyway as sleep overtook him.“One, two, three… four.”Connect: Notes • Medium • Twitter • Instagram • ThreadsSupport: PayPal • Ko-fi Get full access to The FLARE at theflare.substack.com/subscribe

Welcome back to The Listening Room for the next installment of “Hypnotic”. David made a swift escape after his last test run but finds himself in another prison.In chapter eight, his plans are set into motion. 8.Friday came and it was time to set plans in motion. David got dressed in dark gray chinos, a gray button down shirt and black sneakers. He put on a light weight black sweater and zipped it up half way. He smoothed a steady hand over the front. He grabbed a tote bag from his closet which was a gift from Molly. A black bird was stamped against a white circle. He would turn it on the blank side later.He hadn’t shaved in weeks and the coils of his beard poked out from the sides of his face. His hair had also grown in thick on his head. He picked at his tapered Afro with his fingers and tucked the coils in. It would all be shaved off soon.Before shutting the door, he looked once more at the room that had been his cocoon day and night during his recovery. He had the familiar sense of leaving a cloister just like this behind but knew he wouldn’t be able to place it. The fog was still heavy. There had been fitful nights and restless days spiraling between a sort of fugue state and stone cold reality. It was the withdrawal, they assured him. He was coming off hard drugs and needed time to kick remnants of physical addiction but most importantly, the psychological addiction.There was one problem, however: David couldn’t remember doing what Molly said he did. He was never on drugs or even been inclined to try them. He didn’t even smoke weed because it made him paranoid. After his last stint as a truck driver, a confusing spattering of memories followed that seemed mixes of fantasy and truth. He was hesitant to say aloud exactly where he’d been.“Hell of a bender,” he’d say, feigning remembrance of a time that didn’t exist. He came to shaking in that very bed with a man in a suit jacket holding a syringe. He read a “Chambers” name badge on the lapel, but never saw the man’s face. Dr. Chambers had been directing his treatment from afar, always missing David by a hair. He talked mainly to Molly and another social worker, Peter.One night, in the midst of a vivid dream, David saw himself murder an important man in New York City. It was an exercise in espionage and after he stood over the man’s lifeless body on a carpeted office floor, David disappeared. He pieced together the rest of the plan while he was awake, hunched over books at the library downtown as a cover. The walls had eyes in New Directions. He went back into the same dream over and over until he got a name and location. He became fixated on the idea, especially when Molly suggested that his transfer was a long way off. It infuriated him, made heat rise from his belly and into his chest. He felt it every time he heard Molly’s voice with its tone of confidence and finality. He felt it at the dinner table with a strangely familiar group of people who were somehow odd and frightening.He needed to get out and used fragments of his memory as inspiration.David snuck downstairs, stepping gingerly over the creaking steps and boards along the way. They were a simple repair in the large, Victorian-style house, but proved a no-cost security measure.Gerald, his first link, met him at the bottom of the stairs. David passed by silently and gave him a nod. Gerald would say that David had been in his room all morning. In exchange, David hooked him up with a job after his release from the program. It was no small feat considering Gerald’s past and the continuing fight for parental rights of his son. For his part, Gerald didn’t ask why David was going out that morning.Gerald was not just smooth, but a good talker. David thought he’d be a good fit for sales. A company employing ex cons was happy to place him with a small chemical company. Gerald would have a chance at least.The front door closed to a sleepy house awash with silence. In the kitchen, Peter was gathering cereals and fruit for breakfast when a small pineapple toy dropped out of one of the bowls. He looked at it and chuckled, disbelieving. What a strange little toy in an adult center. Maybe a child had left it there at some point but he couldn’t be sure.The figure was a smiling pineapple with little white limbs and gloved hands. There was a winding lever on one side. He wound up the toy and placed in on the counter. It walked jerkily against the Formica and Peter leaned in to watch it. Then a smell hit him.Gerald came in just to see Peter leaning up mechanically like a wind up toy. He looked questioningly into Peter’s blank face, then to the boxes of cereal on the island.Peter turned, crossed the kitchen to the back door, and left without a word.David’s next link in the chain was Kareema, who would meet him at the bus stop and hand him an unregistered pistol she borrowed from a friend. Kareema overheard bits of conversation with Paula one evening, brashly offering to help. She never forgot that David was the only person to check an abusive trucker who’d threatened her. After David gripped the man’s throat and whispered what Kareema hoped were the man’s greatest fears, the abuser quit at Carlsbad Logistics. The same man ended up a suspect in a series of roadside murders along his delivery routes. She could have been next but David didn’t turn a blind eye. He actually stood up and she felt indebted for that.They stood close in the brisk morning and Kareema passed a brown paper bag into his tote.“You even know how to use this?” She asked with a side eye.“Can’t miss shooting point blank,” he said. David was a mask of nonchalance, but inside, he trembled.She scoffed. “You are dumb as hell. Good luck with this little plan. Paula meetin’ you after?”“She’ll be at the house when I get back,” he saidKareema turned to look down the street. No bus just yet.“There’s easier ways. Like patience,” she said.He shot her his own sideways glance. “You say that as you hand me a piece.”“I’m just saying. This is a one-way street. You go one direction and don’t come back,” she saidHe turned to face her. The familiar bright smile she was know for was now shrouded in concern. Kareema crossed her arms against the chill.“I need to figure out what happened to me and I can’t do that here or anywhere near these people.” He looked in the direction of the house.“I understand. But what if you get caught?” she asked.“At this point, I feel dead anyway. And there will be no love lost for the senator. He’s a coward anyway,” he said.“A coward who deserves to die?” She asked.“You’re a part of this, Kareema, an accessory. Don’t get high and mighty on me now,” he warned. His jaw clenched.“Planning and really doing something are the same things, I guess. Just wonder how this helps the rest of us,” she said.“I won’t forget about you. Chambers been holding your release up for almost a year, hasn’t he?”“Yeah,” she said quietly.“Once I’m out, I’m coming back for you. I swear it,” he said.Kareema swiped a tear away with her fingers and cleared her throat. She had people and a life to get back to. She embodied her advice, doing what she was asked and remaining patient, but she was being used. Long term, well adjusted residents made the program look successful. While the others also helped the center’s image, she had been there the longest.The bus came bobbing down the street and they felt the rush of the air breaks when it stopped in front of them. They boarded and sat on opposite sides of the near empty bus.The announcer heralded the next train pulling into the station. David boarded a rapidly emptying train and counted the four stops to his destination. He’d get off north of the senator’s office, then switch trains to go in another direction. He was going opposite the midtown rush which made it a bit easier for him to be identified. That was good. He wanted to be seen or for people to think they’d seen him heading into another borough. No one could escape surveillance, so you might as well show up somewhere.One day his movements might be scrutinized and making a B line for the senator was not a good move. Once he’d pinballed around the city, he’d get off a few blocks from the office building. Once done, he would leave at the nearest subway opening to go back uptown, then take a different route home.At the next stop, Peter, stepped into the car. David stiffened and tried not to panic. Of all the people to see today, a program counselor or more accurately, a narc was feet away from him. Before David could rise from his seat and slip to the other end of the car, Peter unzipped his hoodie to reveal a bright yellow square. David slipped back down into his seat and his body went slack. His head leaned to one side and he fell fast asleep.Peter stood up and walked over. His eyes were focused, yet far away. He loomed over David, watching his head bob lazily to one side. Peter leaned over and whispered into David’s ear.The rocking of the train coaxed him awake right before the next stop. He sat up straight and apologized to the woman he’d been leaning against. She scowled and clutched her shopping bag tighter. He gripped the rail next to him and hoisted himself up, still swaying from the train’s motion. Despite the sleepy fog, he wasn’t tired, but quietly energized.Instead of his crisscross plan, David diverted from the path to the office building, traveling further downtown now, to a short street that was the closest thing to an alley he could get in the city. A man was waiting, leaned against a brick facade in a black bomber jacket. When he saw the tote pressed against David’s side, the black bird in full view, he approached.He motioned for David to remove his bag and David handed it over. The man rested the bag between his feet and removed his jacket, while David removed his sweater. They swapped without a word between them and David patted the chest of the bomber jacket to feel a long barrel underneath.The two stood face to face. Their scruffy beards, brown skin, and coils in need of a shape up were near mirror images. Any witness would do a double take. The man nodded and walked away to continue David’s circuitous route.Senator Langston Filmore ambled into his office with a briefcase in hand. He greeted his assistant warmly as he unlocked his office door. He set down his briefcase next to his ornate wooden desk, which was framed by large windows overlooking a bustling city.“Senator, you have your first appointment in 15 minutes,” the assistant said as she leaned through into the office doorway.“Yes, thank you, Gianna. Can you get some coffee brewed?”“Sir, you could just get a Keurig,” she said with a hint of snark.“Come now,” he chided playfully. “It’s bad enough I don’t have my French press. I can at least have a dignified cup of coffee in the morning.”Gianna sighed.In the reception area, she pulled a hermetically sealed container of coffee beans from a lower cabinet and put three scoops into the coffee grinder. She went about the rest of her tasks automatically, snickering to herself that she’d moved up to a glorified coffee girl.Vincent slipped into the reception area, his steps muffled by the thick burgundy carpet. He paused, waiting and watching the woman move about her tasks. Gianna was pouring the ground coffee into the filter and just shut the top of the coffeemaker when a sound came from behind her. A low whistle came in a familiar melody. The melody continued and her arms fell to her sides.“Turn off the security cameras, Gianna,” Vincent said, his voice just above a whisper.She walked silently back to her desk and clicked her mouse to disable her screensaver. She logged into her account and navigated to the security controls. She had convinced the senator to adopt this one modern thing because he could monitor the office from his phone. She went to the program settings and switched the feed off, opting to not notify connected users. Then she sat at her desk and typed away as the coffee brewed.“You’re going to forget about what you just did, Gianna. When I count to three, you’ll turn to me and say ‘Good morning,’ then walk me into the senator’s office. Don’t forget the coffee, though.”She slowly nodded her response.“One… two…” he said, leering. “Three!”Gianna turned to him with a bright salutation.David knew that there was a security camera in the senator’s office only operable from the inside, so the assistant could not disable it. But he also knew that upon entering the office, he would be blocked from that camera by a campaign sign propped against the wall. He would point, shoot, then close the door. Certainties. His chest swelled with anticipation. The mission would soon over.The senator’s assistant had stepped out on a break just as David entered the reception area. He crept along the carpet with noiseless steps to the office door. If he squeezed the doorknob and turned it slowly, the click of the lock wouldn’t sound. Okay, here goes, he though. But before he could turn the knob, a hand clapped against his wrist. He gaped at the small but firm hand and followed the arm up to a woman with amethyst eyes.“Mother…”he whispered. “What are you doing here?”David faltered and eased his hand off the doorknob. She kept hold of his wrist and led him back onto the landing outside the reception area, a heather gray sweater billowing behind her.“I thought, I thought…” he started.“The mission is over. We found a much more elegant solution that didn’t involve so much fuss,” she said.“The Alchemist,” David said, pleased.Her answer was a slowly spreading smile. He didn’t know what overtook him, but he leaned in and hugged Mother tight. They rocked together for a few moments.“It’s time to leave,” she said. Mother reached into her pocket and pulled out a train ticket and a wad of cash. She planted it in his hand and closed it. David stuffed it into his jacket’s inside breast pocket. Then she handed him a key on a length of thin black leather.“The plan remains the same. Make that stop that Carmine told you about. You know the one, “ she said.It was a storage space in north western Jersey. David would find everything he needed there. He just knew it. Maybe Carmine had survived after all and he’d see him again. Maybe Sam too.Mother interrupted his thoughts, turning her palm face up and curling her fingers in a “give me” motion. David pulled the gun from his breast pocket.“You won’t need this. You could get in a lot of trouble if anyone caught you,” she said smiling. She went over to the secretary’s desk and planted the gun in a lower drawer.“Get what you need, then take that train ticket and leave. Don’t come back here. And don’t answer any wanted ads,” she said grimly.“Thank you, Mother,” he said. He welled up with gratitude.She brushed aside his coils and roved her eyes around his face like someone who wanted to commit every feature to memory. They embraced again and he held her tight. Mother broke his hold and her eyes bore into him in a way that calmed him.She squeezed his forearms. “Now go!”He kissed her forehead and walked briskly down the stairs. He threw open the door to the building and strolled to the nearest subway opening, looking more purposeful than rushed.Mother stood for a moment longer in the landing and slowly exhaled. She pulled a small white container out of her pocket and opened it up. She leaned her head over and swiped a finger into each eye, one at a time, plucking out the amethyst contact lenses.She stared into the reception area to the closed doors of the senator’s office. She was the unseen hand that kept it closed.Vincent sat with Senator Filmore, tapping his foot against the expensive area rug. The Senator sipped freshly brewed black coffee as he launched into a story about his childhood upstate. The Catskills were not mountains, but had actually been a massive sea that eroded the plateaus into peaks. And so on and so forth, he went, naming charming towns along the Hudson River his family knew well.Vincent planted his chin in his hand, his eyes glazed over as the senator’s tales continued. He excused himself a moment and peered out the door to find the assistant typing away.Vincent checked his watch, waiting and waiting in a silent rage.Connect: Notes • Medium • Twitter • Instagram • ThreadsSupport: PayPal • Ko-fi Get full access to The FLARE at theflare.substack.com/subscribe

Welcome back to The Listening Room for the next installment of “Hypnotic”. David Fuller, a man being housed in a sleep research facility Dr. Vincent Vogel and his assistant Molly Fitzgerald, has just undergone his most extreme dream test run yet. In chapter seven, something sinister is in the works.7.David stretched out his aching limbs on the bed. The artificial light in his room was still low signaling early morning. He pressed his palms against the sides of his head and let out a long, low groan. What a night. Snippets flashed before his closed eyes. The casino, the target, the van, and then… he couldn’t remember. He pressed his eyes shut tight but the memory would not surface.He heard shoes scuff against the floor outside. The lock slid open with a muffled clang and the door creeped open. David quickly rose to his elbows. He was stunned almost into silence before managing to croak out a question.“Sam?”Sam stood in dark green coveralls with dirty blonde hair tucked under a cloth hat. A devious smile spread across his face. David dug the heels of his palms against his eyes and rubbed. Impossible. Again?“No time for pleasantries, friend. We have got to get out of here. Leave your things. You won’t need them.”David leapt from his bed and threw a shirt on. He put on a pair of sweatpants and dipped his feet into slip on shoes. He grabbed Sam’s bicep and stood close.“I’m really glad to see you,” David said. His body was a mess of oddly firing emotions all at once. He was aflutter with excitement and grief which burned deep while his eyebrows turned down at the corners with concern and bewilderment.“And you’ll see other friends too,” Sam said, tapping the hand on his bicep.David paused to take in the last of the space. His table was nearly folded away with a stool underneath it. His bed, where he’d spent countless hours slipping from daydreams to patches of night behind his eyes, was a crumbled mess. He winced.A visage of himself projected from his mind pacing, reciting poetry, laughing, weeping, and shielding against the stinging loneliness of isolation. The visage faded. He looked over at his friend and shyly tucked away a smile. David would usually look for an inconsistency, some crack in the façade of his dreams, but he didn’t want to risk finding one. He wanted to believe his friend was freeing him and that there’d be some new adventure on the horizon.Sam pulled the cap low on his forehead and led David down the hall passed the gym on the right all the way to the end where a steel door was at the left. A sign adhered to the door read “This is not an exit,” which made David’s body tense at the sight. He had never considered leaving, only seeing the experiments through so he could come out the other side.David combed through the experience in his mind. He spent six months in facility being pried open, drugged, manipulated, and wrung out. His memory was a punchcard full of missing pieces that made him shudder. What had he really done here? And why? The questions sat heavy and demanded resolution.It was unnerving the way time blew away like sand. He’d been convinced over and over that he was doing something worthwhile and in the moment, it seemed justified, but now that reason drifted like a fleeting rain shower. It pattered quickly away leaving a mist of something he didn’t grasp, only felt.Sam dug into his pocket and pulled out a key to unlock the door. They slipped out. David did not look back.A camera pointed toward the exit captured a lone man skulking down the hall and pushing open the exit door.The room in New Directions Treatment Center was threadbare. A twin bed was pushed against the far wall with a night table beside it and a small lamp on it. There was a desk and chair in front of a picture window in the middle of the room, overlooking a busy avenue. A chest of drawers was on the other wall with a small closet to the left.David had taken down the bargain pastoral scene painting at the end of the bed and put up a poster. His favorite band stared down from a fish eye perspective. Fresh yellow flowers from the corner store sat on the chest of drawers in a clear, curvy plastic cup he’d found abandoned at the laundromat down the street.He was beginning to settle here. After being clammed up for weeks in a haze of near dissociation from the world, he started inching back to consciousness and other people. He had started making friends with the other residents and even liked his social worker, Molly. She was helpful and had eased his transition in.Just then, Molly knocked on the door.“Morning!” she said brightly as she entered.“Morning Molly,” David said. He gestured for her to take his chair. He sat on the bed.Molly balanced a small notebook on her leg before hesitantly setting on the desk. She crossed her legs and glanced at the flowers.“It’s a good sign that you’re decorating. We make a home wherever we are.” She said the affirmation as if it were the first time. It wasn’t.David smiled weakly. His hands shook and he clasped them in his lap.“Now, you’ve been clean for 90 days which is huge, but I wanted to think about where we can go from here.” She pulled her pen from the spine of the notebook and she clicked it. She opened the notebook to a blank page.David moistened his lips and looked up at the poster at the end of the bed. The group members were in the foreground of a bridge, bathed in dark blue with the lead in a white, patterened Kangol hat. The drummer’s usual Afro was laid down in braids and his eyes were closed.“David?” Molly asked. She flicked her strawberry curls behind her ears and looked at him expectantly.His mouth pursed to form words that didn’t come. The walls sometimes loomed over him in a foreboding embrace. That’s when he had to get out, sometimes cutting close to curfew, to escape that trapped feeling. Once outside, though, he could feel his pulse quickened with expectation. His senses sharpened and every face volleyed from friend to adversary. He feared a gaze that lingered a little too long or a bump to the shoulder would send him spiraling into a rage.That’s when he started to sweat and his chest tightened. David would race back to the house and barrel into his room, shutting the door behind him. His breaths would come in gasps before slowing to deep sighs. He told no one about these bouts and could not remember a time it ever happened before. Whatever he had been addicted to did a number on him.Finally, he spoke.“I’m just worried about staying clean right now. I did start sketching a bit, though,” he said with a trace of pride.“May I see?”He gestured to the top of the desk which had a neat stack of paper. Molly flipped through the sheets past still lifes of the flowers, the desk chair, and lamp. She kept flipping. There were portraits of the mailman and one of the residents, Paula, who so far was his closest acquaintance.“This is good, David. Very good. Anything else?”“No, Molly, that’s all I’ve come up with,” he said, managing a weak smile. His hands were still clasped in his lap.“I think you should do the food shopping this week,” she said without looking up. She was fixated on sketch of a 90s model sedan with a shrouded driver.“You and Paula seem like pals. Maybe you two can plan a few dinners for the group,” Molly said, laying the sketch back on the desk and turning to look at David.Her eyes were ocean blue with dark rims. They bore into him and he suppressed a rising discomfort in his chest.“That’s fine. I think I could do that,” David said nodding.She smiled cheerily and jotted down a few notes.“That is good news. I’ll let Paula and Dr. Chambers know. You can meet with her tonight after dinner when you’ve come up with some ideas.”She stood up and gripped his shoulder reassuringly. Without another word, she left his room and closed the door. David sat still and waited to hear her footsteps depart down the hallway, then the stairs.He stood up from the bed and moved the chair away from the desk. He opened the desk drawer and under some other sketches was a portrait thick with pencil strokes and charcoal. He held it up to the light streaming through the window. He squinted at the sketch, willing himself to remember. The mental strain yielded nothing.The woman had braids intricately fashioned into a bun atop her head. Her high forehead sat above jeweled eyes. At the bottom right corner of the page was a single word: mother.The residents had dinner in the backyard that early evening. He preferred to think of everyone as involuntarily committed patients, though. Picnic tables dotted a well kept lawn reclaimed from an oil-stained parking lot years before. Tall hedges shielded them from noise and neighbors. David usually sat alone, or with Paula. There was something about the others that repelled him, though he didn’t know why.He’d gone to high school with one man, Gerald, who was heavyset but graceful and almost dignified in his movements. David half expected another face to greet him when he turned around but it was never what he expected. It was wrong somehow. The pouty mouth and thin eyebrows. The round, flat nose. Something about his face was familiar, yet misplaced, and it bothered David.There was a tall woman named Kareema who had worked with him back when he was a trucker at Carlsbad Logistics a bit farther north. She had broad shoulders, narrow hips, and a singing voice like a siren. With Kareema, it was her teeth. She had a movie star smile that beamed. The guys used to call her Lighthouse. The name was chopped and screwed over time until it became Elly. When David looked at that smile, a memory that wanted to force its way up from the dirt could never break through. It made his skin prickle with goose flesh.He pressed his fingers against the bridge of nose and steadied his heart through deep breaths. He closed his eyes and tried to remember. Then someone tapped his shoulder. He sprang loose from his thoughts.“David? I just wanted to go over dinner plans,” Paula ventured louder than necessary. She stood at a distance, timidly waiting for his response, bobbing on the balls of her feet.He motioned for her to join him. She slipped in close and balled her hands inside the sleeves of her sweatshirt despite the late spring heat. She quivered with nervous energy. Her eyes darted from David to the surroundings. She took a few more moments to reassure herself no one was close enough to hear, then dropped her voice to above a whisper.“When?” she asked.“Friday afternoon. I’m going to the city to his office.”“What about the others?”“They’ll know where to be. Wont be long now, and we can get this charade over with,” David said, barely masking his disgust.Paula’s cheek twitched. That happened when she was excited. She rubbed the wooden surface of the picnic table with her fingertips.“And then what?” she asked eagerly.“Once he’s dead, I have a contact who will get us transferred out of here,” David said.Paula knitted her brow. She looked around to see the other residents laughing as they finished up their meals.“Don’t you think that guy is a bit high profile?”“That’s the best part. There will be so much attention on that case, no one will pay attention to two addicts going to step up housing in the suburbs. From there, we’ll disappear,” David said. He suddenly felt a chill and wished he had his own sweatshirt to curl into.“We can’t just do that now?” Paula’s voice was getting higher. The twitches pulsed like a slow metronome.David’s scanned the backyard. No one had heard Paula. At least they gave no sign they did. One of the counselors, Peter, a mostly serious man in his late twenties, was in an animated conversation with one of the residents. They seemed absorbed in whatever he was saying and didn’t look in their direction.“Sorry.” Paula put three fingers over her mouth and rested her chin on the table surface.He shook his head and dashed away her apology with a flick of his hand. They were under pressure and the window to do the deed was rapidly closing.“Molly and the elusive Dr. Chambers are likely to tell the court we’re not compliant. That means possible jail time. We’d be fucked after that.”Paula considered it, nodding.“So what’s for dinner this week?” Paula asked.“What?” David responded, confused by the topic change.“Well, we still have to decide on dinners. Can’t chat this long and not come up with something.” She blinked at him with childlike and innocent eyes.He chuckled. When Paula was sober, she was sharp. She asked all the right questions too. The problem was that her intelligence also came with obsessive and addictive tendencies. She could have gone anywhere in the country to any university studying medicine or physics, but in the end, she got hung up on a boy who was into coke. The rest was history.As the two discussed menu options in the descending gloom, Molly stood inside the screened back door with Vincent. A “Chambers” tag adorned the breast pocket of his suit jacket. His face was shrouded in shadows.“How’s he?” Vincent asked, tipping up his chin in David’s direction.“Good. He doesn’t remember anything. He’s just drawing parked cars and other nonsense,” Molly said with a wave of her hand.“We’re set for Friday then?”“Yes. He’s going to plan with Paula over the next few days. The others are already in place,” she said.The residents sat talking in the light of golden hour and none would know this was a collection of strangers who’d become friends and each other’s support.“You know, the thing about free will is as long as people believe they’ve made the choice, it doesn’t matter if you make them do it. The choice itself is enough,” Vincent said.“Mmm. The fight breaks the programming,” Molly said flatly.“Exactly. And we need to keep him programmed for a little while longer.”Vincent let out a chortle. He could not have anticipated this going so well.“The inmates are planning an escape that the warden has designed,” Vincent mused.“You can’t make this stuff up,” Molly said shaking her head.They stood in the darkness of the house looking out on the residents of 18th Avenue’s drug rehabilitation center. The six other members of the plan would soon be awakened to orchestrate a single performance. In a matter of days, a state Senator might be dead.Connect: Notes • Medium • Twitter • Instagram • ThreadsSupport: PayPal • Ko-fiHuge thanks to new paid subscriber Sangit and founder R. M. I’m so grateful for your support and confidence in me. Get full access to The FLARE at theflare.substack.com/subscribe

Welcome back to The Listening Room for the next installment of “Hypnotic”. If you’re just joining, we met David Fuller, a man being housed in a sleep research facility while Dr. Vincent Vogel and his assistant Molly Fitzgerald, examine David’s dreams. Tobias Mancuso sits at the helm recording those dreams and monitoring David during test runs.In chapter six, we pick up with an Atlantic City, NJ mission, when David meets his target Gamal, his most formidable target yet. And a startling truth is revealed.6.Gamal stood with both hands raised. He breathed heavily against David’s cupped hand. After an awkward moment, still exposed, Gamal emptied the rest of his bladder. He gestured toward his open fly. David moved his hand off the man’s mouth and motioned for Gamal to finish. He zipped up and started backing away from the urinal. David moved with him, keeping the blade against his flank. He glanced over his shoulder to size David up, then turned back to face the wall.David shook with his attention focused on keeping the knife steady. It made him nervous and sick inside to think this man would die at his hands. It seemed wrong somehow, but then again he had never asked why. David was too preoccupied to notice Gamal’s hand balling into a fist. With a quick motion, he shifted left away from the blade and struck David in the stomach. The wind rushed out of David’s lungs and he stumbled back into the stall door, catching himself before falling onto the toilet. He hoisted himself up and looked out just to see Gamal turn to escape.Carmine emerged from a bank of stalls and blocked Gamal’s dash, knocking him to the floor. He was momentarily stunned but sprang to his feet. David caught up and wrapped his arms around Gamal in a bear hug and they collided into the wall. He held the knife firm and the two wrestled on their feet while Carmine rounded them to assist.In the frenzy, David made contact and plunged the knife deep. Carmine’s face blanched before a twisted scowl showed the betrayal. He stepped back and a bright red spot widened on his shirt.Gamal spotted the gap and pushed past the two, sprinting toward the exit through the men’s sitting room. His wide stride slowed like he crossed from air to amber before stopping completely.David stood panting and bewildered at the scene. Carmine was a leaning tower in mid collapse with a mask of surprise. David opened Carmine’s shirt and saw the gaping wound he created. He pressed it together with his thumb and forefinger until it sealed, then swiped down with his palm to remove the blood. Good as new. At least he hoped so.Gamal’s was in a photo finish stride as if crossing a checkered portion of track. His head was turned back to check on the competition.He pulled Carmine upright from his freeze frame.“What happened?” Carmine asked.“I made a mistake. Trying to salvage things,” David said, swiping a hand over his sweaty brow.David walked in front of Gamal and positioned the knife dead center in his chest and braced with both hands.He pressed play.“Sam, who is this guy?”Sam gripped the steering wheel and pressed his lips into a line.“Sam!”He didn’t startle easily, but hopped a little in his seat.“He’s an Egyptian ambassador to the UK,” Sam said quietly“Are you f*****g kidding? A whole nation will come looking for him. This is insane!” David groaned.“Lower your f*****g voice when you talk to me.” Sam whipped his head toward the passenger side and his handsome, smooth face was coarse and shrouded in shadows under the moonlight. He turned back to the road. David kept his mouth shut for the moment.“This needed to be done. He was using diplomatic immunity for all sorts of s**t. We don’t know everything because that’s not our business, but he was—”“You and Carmine always say that. The people we kill are the worst of the worst,” David said shaking his head.David thought of how badly this mission had gone. When he pressed play, Gamal’s sternum was crushed against the knife and Carmine had been knocked back by the force. He slid on his back into the doorway of the men’s sitting room. There, Carmine came face to sole with the shiny leather loafers of a shocked patron.Without a moment’s thought, he grabbed the man’s ankles and pulled him down. While Carmine pounded his fists into the helpless man’s face, David tried to steady himself on the rapidly spreading pool of blood under his feet. He slipped and the two men crumpled to the floor in an inelegant heap. The force of the blow caved the center of Gamal’s chest inward. David panted as he looked into the man’s glossed over gaze. He laid his head on Gamal’s shoulder to catch his breath.David took tentative steps toward the doorway and saw another man laid on his back with a bloodied face. He’s dead, David thought. Carmine emerged from the main doorway with bloodied knuckles and a wild look in his eyes. His shirt was pulled from his pants, revealing remnants of his stab wound stain but also a fine mist on his chest and face.David’s face must have registered his disappointment, because Carmine put his hands on his hips and lowered his head in apology. Then a coded knock came on the bathroom door. He gestured for David to join him. Sam was at the door with the bin.Sam and David wheeled the two bodies into the panel truck then took off into the night. Carmine stayed behind. Getting rid of blood was not as simple as wiping it away. It quickly coagulated to a stubborn jelly. Before David left, he created a drain in the floor to ease the gruesome task. The newly christened Alchemist would have to do the rest.David leaned back against the headrest and closed his eyes. He hoped Carmine would manage alone and that his stab repair had held. Sam seemed to read his thoughts.“Carmine can take care of himself.”Sam raked his fingers over his mouth. Even he didn’t believe that. He suddenly jammed on the brakes and the car skidded in the dirt.“It’s better if you don’t know where the bodies are,” Sam said looking around in the dark, almost as if he expected to see someone emerge from the shadows.“It’s never good for a conspiracy of men to stay together once the job is done. Better to scatter.”David looked out the passenger window into a swampy bank only lit by the fading rays of casino marquees.“Where should I go?” David asked.“I don’t know. This is fucked right now,” Sam said.Then a thought crept up and out into the open: Carmine told me where we should meet. It was a certainty.“Nevermind. I know where to go.”Color rose into Sam’s cheeks and he let some burden he was carrying go. Getting rid of the bodies seemed the easier part.“It wasn’t your fault. S**t happens,” Sam said.He turned and held out his hand for a shake. David grasped it tightly.“I’ll see you around,” David said.Sam nodded.David got out of the car and watched the taillights disappear around a bend bordered with reeds. When Sam was out of sight, he ran.The sun was rising over the Atlantic Ocean. David sat beside Carmine on a bench overlooking the gently lapping water. The metal was cold in the early morning with a biting chill that made David think it was late November. Carmine sat to his right, looking pale and haggard.“Did you know Gotham City in Batman was originally in New Jersey?” Carmine asked.“I didn’t,” David replied.“Never looked it up. Might be b******t but it sounds nice. We need to be on the map for something other than being New York’s punk kid brother.”He stifled a cough and brought his arm up to let it out into the crux of his elbow. Bright red blood sprayed onto his white shirt. He shivered. He turned to David. His face was pale and almost chalky with all the color drained out. His lips were peeling.“I have a son. 15 years old and taller than me. Better than me. No one else knows that.”Carmine reached into his breast pocket with a grimace and pulled out a shiny metal key. He held it out in his open palm.“Take it, you b*****d,” he said coughing again.David took the key and held it a moment to feel the warmth left from Carmine’s hand. He stuffed it deep in his pants pocket.“Storage space in Hackettstown. Once you get inside, another key will open a locker at a gun shop in town. Only one. Phil will help you.”He held Carmine’s hand.“Mother will take you out of here. Not sure if I’ll see you again, but take care. Pleasure working with you, buddy,” Carmine said.David started to cry and a his chest tightened with the pain of welling grief. This could not be it for them. He was sure he’d spin up another dream and Carmine’s smiling, round face would be there. The finality of the moment was crushing.Mother stood behind the bench. David turned around to see a woman in a dark gray wool coat buttoned up the neck and black leather gloves. She had a bun of intricately woven braids against a high forehead. Her eyes were a sparkling amethyst. He braced himself against the back of the bench and stood up. She looked up at him with a warm and reassuring face.“We have to go, David,” she said softly. Her voice barely rose above the sound of the waves.They walked away and David looked back to see that Carmine’s hand was still planted on the bench and his body was eerily still.They disappeared into tall pines and trudged through the thick wood. He didn’t question, only followed the slight, statuesque woman whose wingtip heels stepped easily over gnarled roots and small sinkholes. David’s body ached trudging the path behind her.It picked at him, the pull toward the dear friends, two men he had conjured from his imagination that were so real they took on an existence of their own. His history with them felt like it stretched back through ages, though he knew it wasn’t true. Sam said she was the unseen hand. Maybe she knew.“Sam and Carmine: Will I see them again? And who are they? To me, I mean.”The crunch of leaves was from David’s feet. Mother’s heels struck noiselessly against pockets of air. She glanced over her shoulder but kept walking. David scurried beside her.“They’re not real, but you already knew that. They’re what’s called composites.” She bowed her head, almost sorry to break the news“What?”“Composites. Bits of people you know put together, they don’t actually exist. It’s why you feel like you know them, why you’re drawn to them so strongly. You know them well, just not in these forms. One benefit is they can’t be found.”The revelation stung.“You created them? Why would you do that?”She stopped and faced him. Her amethyst eyes gleamed.“You needed people you could trust to help you complete the training.”“What training?”“The test runs! Did you think you were just going on spy missions? That it was going to cure your insomnia or help you with your Daddy issues? This is not some f*****g choose your adventure. It’s all part of a plan.”David was reeling. She knew about the waking world. Early on, Carmine had showed him how to create doors in his dreams to escape. Even after their countless dream hours together, there was never a suggestion that he knew anything outside of their experience.“What’s the point?” he asked.“To make you a drone. To give you a target to hit. Once you were ready, they’d send you out to do exactly what you tonight: murder someone you don’t even know, but for a good cause, of course.”“That’s not possible.”“It is.” she said. “You won’t know the difference.”A laughed rattled in her throat with a knowing sense of doom. It chilled him. He had been trained to have his own will broken down with a look, trained his mind to conjure worlds and people in lucid dreams, and soon he would exit the dream world to get real blood on his hands.“Mother. Mother…” David said with rising panic. “What’s happening to you?!”Mother looked down at her hands which were blowing away like dust in the wind. “Oh no.”She fell apart piece by piece like clumps of sand that wisped up among falling leaves.“David,” someone called behind him.He whipped around to find Vincent standing amidst the pines. Mother was gone.The forest melted like watercolors revealing a stark white canvas underneath. Chains rose up from the floor and clamped on his wrists. He writhed and tugged at the chains. His old exam chair rose up from the floor right underneath him.A metal restraint clamped across his neck.“I call this The Chamber. You are in a sleep state where you are not easily roused but can be influenced by what’s outside. I’ve gotten the balance just right so I can speak to you in a dream and your mind will fill in what it needs to. I can implant sounds, smells, and images while you’re here and you will believe it’s real.“I really have to credit Molly with this. She gave me that little nugget. God! It unlocked the entire thing!”Vincent loomed as tall as a pine, falling over David like a shadow with eyes just as black and empty.“David, you’re going to do what I tell you. You’ll follow my instructions to the letter and carry out what I need you to do. Then you will simply forget.”“No. You can’t do that. People don’t forget, they bury things. You’re just putting a sheet over it but I’ll remember.” He struggled against the restraints.Vincent chuckled. “You won’t. I’m smart, David, so I’m not just going to bury it, I’m going to corrupt it, so that when you find whatever it is you’re looking for, it’ll be nonsense. You won’t trust it. The truth will be in shards staring right at you, but you won’t be able to put it together. That’s because you’re not smart, David.”“Where is Mother?” he asked.“Mother? Who the hell—“, he trailed off and his pupils darted from side to side as if he were processing something.“Vincent, please—““I’ll get away with it!” he interrupted. “I will get away with it David because I am smart and you are stupid! I want you to remember that when you’re brushing your teeth or paying a parking ticket. I am smarter than you! And I am ahead. Far ahead.”He trailed off again, spiraling through rapid thoughts. The plot behind his eyes was intricate and expanding with the pieces laying together as he envisioned they would. Perfection. Brilliance. And none but he could see the magnificent landscape for miles and miles.Wait. A small snag. He drifted out of his mind and whispered aloud to himself.“I need to do something about her. She’s the only one who can operate this equipment. Single point of failure. That’s my fault,” he said raising his hand. His tapped his chin and paced. He mulled over his next move, oblivious to the man laying as helpless as ever with both his mind and body trapped. Get full access to The FLARE at theflare.substack.com/subscribe

Welcome back to The Listening Room for the next installment of “Hypnotic”. If you’re just joining, we met David Fuller, a man being housed in a sleep research facility while Dr. Vincent Vogel and his assistant Molly Fitzgerald, examine David’s dreams. Tobias Mancuso sits at the helm recording those dreams and monitoring David during test runs.In chapter four, we got a glimpse of David’s life before the facility and of what triggers his rage. We continue in this chapter with a major breakthrough. 5.Molly ran as fast as her pencil skirt would allow with her strawberry waves bouncing behind her. She zipped around the corner, gripping the wall to steady herself, then down a long corridor. This was it and she could barely contain her excitement.Molly thought about the span of this experiment, of when it first occurred to her to use dream states to implant information back in graduate school. It was no more than a sci fi movie fantasy but she told Vincent about her idea. He pondered on it, as he usually did, rocking in a high back chair with his fanned out fingers pressed together and his sloped nose planted between them like a knock off Sherlock Holmes. Vincent was tall, gangly, and brilliant, so at least he looked the part.She knew that in his hands, the idea would be sculpted into something well beyond her capability, but she had to be careful. Unlike the famous detective, who refused credit once a case concluded, Vincent had a way of intertwining himself in a project until the two could not be distinguished. He became the project and everyone who didn’t think so made their way out. She wouldn’t do that so easily.What one had to do was pay close attention and map the direction Vincent was headed so he could be carefully diverted. He had to believe he was driving and that everyone else was a passenger. If he thought he was fighting for control, he got aggressive and that’s when things got uncomfortable. So far the polite deception had worked and he trusted her. It took longer than she wanted to for him to accept suggestions, but things had a way of failing when he didn’t listen.While brilliant, Vincent was just another arrogant prick convinced of his own specialness, but what was actually special was the seed, her ideas and her direction. He was an overgrown drone.She threw open Vincent’s office door without knocking.“You have to see this,” she said panting.Back in her office, she scrubbed through surveillance video. Vincent sat down quietly behind her.“I usually check the video before we wipe it and I caught something.”The video paused on a seated David in his room with an empty food tray on the table. His head was leaned back against the wall. His eyes were open. She pressed play. He jerked his head and upper body as if propelled by some force in the wall, then rocked back and forth on the chair. He scanned the room with the wondrous look of someone discovering a new and interesting place. He looked to his left and squinted. His lips mouthed the words to something he read from thin air.“What’s he doing?” Vincent asked.Molly didn’t answer.David looked to his right and appeared to speak with someone. The exchange ended and David stared off into the opposite wall above his bed. Molly scrubbed forward. David stood up and mimicked a short stair climb as his right hand rested on a railing no one could see.“Molly, what the f**k kind of charade is this? Molly!”“I think he’s acting out a dream. Most times he dozes off after breakfast but he started miming things. I’ve watched this like fifteen times and there’s a moment when his eyes close and his body loses some muscle tone. Then his eyes open and he starts this s**t.”Vincent gaped. One puzzle had already been solved under his nose and he felt a tangle of emotions swelling inside him. He could not decide which parts were pleasant but his heart was ready to thud straight out of his chest. He scooted closer to the screen. The revelation was dizzying: the project would be able to move to the final stage.“David is probably ready for the field. We can get Toby to create some mission with only a few rooms. Wheel him into the big room after he’s sedated?” Molly ventured.“No, not yet. We should start changing things. We need to develop his senses now,” Vincent said. More acute senses meant the dreams would be more real and in themselves, become a reality. It could then be manipulated at will.Molly turned to the video and smirked, satisfied by where the experiment was heading next. David was seated on his bed talking to thin air, but really, he was at a bagel shop, meeting with Carmine for the first time.The gray walls of David’s room were warmed by a dull amber light, but David remained asleep, exhausted from his test runs. He had been tasked with a number of odd missions, from changing the colors of flowers in a field with his mind to finding his way through mazes. Vincent said he was honing skills in his dream world and they were making good progress. David was taking control, he said, and would have more satisfying sleep. He would finally figure his life out and stop self sabotaging. The insomnia would be gone.Still, it made him uncomfortable to think how he was whittled down to a stump in Vincent’s presence. It wasn’t a matter of physical strength because David could easily take him down, but of that crushing influence that manipulated his will in the dream room. He would only recall it much later and feel ashamed.In his quiet hours, of which there were many, in between reading and the occasional w**k, he thought about his fire. He thought about how angry he could get when someone pecked at him and the heat rose from his belly and into his chest. He hadn’t felt that since coming to facility. Maybe it was good to be calm so he could be prepared for the outside, for when a boss sassed him or maybe he encountered some a******s on the highway—He rubbed his face briskly with both hands. He never got angry without a reason and he never made the first strike, that was for sure. It might be time to call up the fire and resist.David’s breakfast came as usual with the slide of the pass through and clack of a metal tray being laid on it. He was sprawled on his bed, disinterested in the meal for the moment until something caught his attention: the smell. He perked up and leaned on his elbow. Pale yellow eggs speckled with black pepper practically gleamed from his vantage point, but it was merely the centerpiece. He scooted out of bed and grabbed the tray, folding down his table and setting it on top.To the right of the eggs were lumps of dark green spinach with pops of red from cubed bell pepper. He wafted garlic off the spinach and a vinegary heat from the eggs. At the top left was a spongy square of bread, probably challah he thought, with a thin film of butter on top. At the top right were slick slices of peaches in a small pool of juice.He stared at the tray for a few minutes. He took in every color, shape, and scent. The memories burned into a brain that had been starved of stimuli for five months. He could hardly believe how heightened his senses were. He was aquiver with interest but was barely hungry.David’s hand met the smooth sides of the tray and it was warm. He ran his fingers across the rim and exhaled deeply.The taste was another experience altogether. He let each morsel linger on his tongue before chewing with his eyes closed. The crust of the bread crunched under his teeth and the slivers of peaches practically slipped down his throat whole.He leaned his head against the wall after finishing and though he didn’t smoke, a menthol was probably due right then. That and a cocktail made especially for him by Sam. Maybe something with pineapple juice, coconut rum, and blue curaçao in one of those curvy glasses. It sounded so good he could taste it.David drifted off into his thoughts and could not tell if he had been asleep until a knock came at the door.“David!” the voice whispered. “It’s me, Sam. Can you hear me?”David jolted forward and strained his ears to hear what was most certainly carryover from a dream. That happened sometimes. His eyes creaked open in the dark and the outline of an object followed him into the waking world. After a few blinks, the apparition was gone. Sam was a friend who visited again and again after he closed his eyes and existed nowhere else.“I can’t stay, but we’ll have to get you out. I’ll be by after your next test run. Good luck.”David was dumbstruck. His limbs were heavy and he couldn’t move. His mouth was still agape when the usual voice announced it was time for the gym. Had two hours passed? He slid his tray through the opening and sprawled onto the bed. He ran his hand along the blanket and realized it was soft like a sheep’s coat. He’d never noticed that before.He thought about where Sam could be hiding and whether he had access to all those locked doors. Did the cameras see him and mistake him for someone else? He rummaged through his memories and could not find Sam. He knew him so well and yet he didn’t entirely exist.“David, this will feel different from the usual tests. I want you to pay closer attention to your senses, really interact with your environment.”Vincent’s hand was on David’s shoulder and his face was close enough to smell candy on his breath. There was something else too, maybe sandalwood and bergamot, he thought. He could not believe how good his sense of smell had become.David shook Vincent’s hand off his shoulder and looked away. He always felt his will slip away into those deep and penetrating eyes. They were a rich brown with pupils that were a swallowing abyss. They seemed to spread like oil over the whites of his eyes until you were overtaken completely.Vincent’s hand hung in the air as he studied David. It could have been crankiness from the continued schedule disruption or something else, he wondered. A subject pulling away was nothing to be alarmed about, but to watch. He had noticed David’s resistance growing in tiny increments. Easy, number seven. All will be revealed in time, Vincent thought.This was just the indication he needed to push David further. The man was hungry now, truly ravenous for something other than his gray walls. He must be tired of being forced into a descent, so he would make those descents on his own with just a nudge. Vincent would create the nudge and ever so gently apply it.He straightened up and crossed his arms on his chest.“David,” he said in a scolding tone. “You know It doesn’t make me happy when you’re like this.”He watched for a reaction but David was surprisingly stoic. “You don’t want to upset me, do you? That’s not a good idea.”He walked around the chair to look David in the face.“I’m not the one to f**k with, believe that.”Something inside slipped and folded like playing cards. David’s face was a penitent whine. Vincent looked on but said nothing, withholding any morsel of approval until he was sure he had complete surrender.“That’s better,” he said. “Now, the yellow square, David. Look at it.”David’s neck creaked over to the color block in the blank wall. His body went slack and his eyes hovered above closing.“You have a difficult target this time but you need to use what you’ve learned.”“Yes, Dr. Vogel,” he said plainly.Vincent smirked. “Descend.”David stretched his hands over stiff but soft sheets. He was groggy as if an afternoon nap had gone on too long. Beyond the sheer curtains and floor to ceiling windows were lights of some bustling city. It was nearing evening and he had to get up. The hotel room had two queen sized beds, a round dining table in the left corner by the window and a large television to the right.A suit lay on the other bed. He got dressed and grabbed his key card on the way out.The elevator opened to a swank lobby with guest enjoying live music. Beyond it were rows and rows of slot machines. They weren’t the modern kind with touchscreens, but ones where you could hear the gears turning inside. Each crank of the side handle spun the colorful symbols round while upbeat instrumentals tinkled through the air. Cherry, cherry, gold coin. Maybe next time.Step right up and try your hand at blackjack, baccarat, or poker where each hand is a loser and the house always wins. He smiled to himself watching old ladies balance their dwindling cigarettes between two fingers. One long drag, one more pull, maybe this time will be a winner.The ping and jangle of coins plonking into metal trays were base notes in a symphony of laughs and flashing lights. The stench of cigarette smoke mixed with the sting of cheap perfume and floor cleaner.David stood at the edge of one cluster of card tables taking it all in. He rubbed a thumb against a neatly trimmed beard. Someone gripped his elbow. It was Sam.“My god, you and Carmine really need to stop doing that. Send a text or something. F**k.”“Sorry. It’s more discrete if we’re not hovering over our phones.”“Who’s hovering? I could literally glance at it for two seconds instead of needing a pacemaker.”“The drama…” Sam said rolling his eyes. They were dressed in identical black suits. Sam perched an arm on his shoulder as they watched the rise and fall of riches minute by minute.“All right, all right. So this guy is a hit from a private payer,” David said.“Yeah. He’s on a high stakes baccarat table. Carmine isn’t dealing but just—““Hovering,” David cut in. “Very discreet.”Sam barely hid his amusement but continued.“Carmine loves a good poison. That’s his specialty. We haven’t settled on a name that didn’t sound like a comic book villain.”“How about The Alchemist?”Sam turned down the sides of his mouth and considered it.“Might grow on me. He definitely turns s**t situations into gold.”He held his palms out to weigh the balance of David’s suggestion against his own but it looked like neither made the grade. Sam placed a hand on David’s shoulder and they both stared out at the gambling floor.David peered over to see Sam’s six tapping fingers on his shoulder. An inconsistency. He breathed out. It was becoming hard to tell. The visual resolution, sound, even the bite of cold air conditioning was so convincing. He often awoke in his room and it took minutes at a time before he realized he wasn’t dreaming. Sam had come to him at his room door back at the facility. How long had he been cycling through REM sleep?He looked over again and there were five fingers. He blinked rapidly. Five fingers.“There’s cameras absolutely everywhere so our best bet is getting him in a bathroom. For that, we have to make sure a camera is turned away from the men’s room entrance and we get a large rolling bin. We’ve gotta ride in the blindspots though so no one even sees us transporting him,” Sam said.“That’s how we’re disposing of him?”“Not really. I have a panel truck around the side of the building. No cameras. We’ll drive him out to a spot.”David considered this as his eyes scanned the lively casino. He had a different take.“You know, I was a funeral director for like three months. I go to pick up a body from the morgue and I ask the guy, joking obviously, what’s the best way to get rid of a body.”Sam turned his head and the two faced each other.“He said to do a drive by. Day or night doesn’t really matter, just needs to be the right setting. Happens so quick that witnesses don’t get details correct or they’re too scared to snitch. The county government does the cleanup.Sam gave an open mouthed smile showing a set of gorgeous teeth. David smiled back, then recovered himself and turned back to the slots.“Can we just leave him right there?”“That might work for another type of job, just not this one. Appreciate your contribution to the team, though,” Sam said with a rising tone.“There’s someone else you should know about: Mother.”“Who’s that?” David scoffed.“She coordinates all of this. Without her, nothing would be possible.”“Will I meet her?”“Not likely. She’s an unseen hand,” Sam said, wiggling his fingers. There were six.“Pity,” David said absently. “We should get started.”They parted to opposite directions.Their target was a man in his 50s, Gamal Rashad, who was impressively fit and sharp. He looked like an experienced gambler whose movements were smooth and confident at a table. He checked in alone tonight, which meant no companions would be looking for him if he didn’t return to his room. Even in the casino, no one latched onto his arm, so he was riding steady and solo.His wide shoulders and thin waist suggested a consistent workout routine, but he still took diuretics for high blood pressure. That would be their in. Carmine had already slipped him a higher dose. Racing to the bathroom in no time, David thought. Gamal eventually cashed out of a table and set down a few chips for the dealer. He nodded his goodbye.Gamal went to the same bathroom for the fourth time that evening and positioned himself in front of a urinal. David noiselessly emerged from a stall behind him and clapped a hand over the man’s mouth with his left hand. He pressed a knife against his right flank.“Don’t move.”[end of audio]Author’s note:Thanks for sticking with me during this intermission. I admit I didn’t even look at The FLARE while I was away, didn’t mull over new subscribers, just tried to sit in stillness. I appreciate you for following along or simply showing up for the first time. I look forward to continuing this journey with you. Get full access to The FLARE at theflare.substack.com/subscribe

Welcome back to The Listening Room for chapter four of Hypnotic. In chapter three, David’s allies came to the rescue, both inside and outside the dream world. We resume with who he was before the experiments.4.David grabbed his lunch pail out of the fridge and put it on the table next to Janine. She was dead set on completing a game of Candy Crush and didn’t look up. Her tousled hair was in a ponytail tucked into the back of a well worn ball cap. She learned the art of blending into a boys club where she neither got harassed nor included. It was this unsexed limbo where she existed as a neither, invisible.Janine’s elbows were planted on the circular table and bright, flickering colors danced across her pale face. David knew her lunch was either long scarfed down or ignored completely until break was almost up. One or the other.The break room was a dull and virtually colorless room with grimy Formica countertops in a regrettable light brown and a white fridge probably on extended loan from someone’s garage. One would assume it was full of beer instead of lunchboxes and an aging box of baking soda. Next to the fridge was a silver microwave that no one used because it had never been cleaned.David laid paper towel down as his place mat, then zipped open his lunch pail and took out a sandwich and chips. Janine exited the game and nodded in his direction.“Good game?” he asked.“No, an unfortunate addiction,” she replied grimly. She laid the phone down in front of her.“I hear that. Where you headed after this?”“North Carolina. I’ve done it before.” She yawned and swept her elbows out to lay her head on the table.“You’re just headed near Pittsburgh, right?” she asked.“Yeah, it’s quick. But I’ve never been out there.”“Really? Like Pittsburgh?”“Nah, the state.”She scoffed and rubbed a hand against her cheek. Her nails were short with a thin layer of grime underneath.“I usually take the longer hauls down to Florida or Louisiana so I’ve been all along the East coast and the South. Never been to PA.”“It’s like a hour from here,” she said.“So what? Never had a reason to go.”“What? There’s Philadelphia, Amish country, there’s farms, Crayola… that’s so lame,” she said.“Doesn’t matter,” he said casting his eyes down to his lunch.“I think it does. It’s a bordering state.”“It’s not a big deal, Janine,” he said, his annoyance ascending.“Jesus, what other basic human things haven’t you done?”He widened his eyes at her, squaring his shoulders. Her smirk evaporated like steam and her mouth gaped in an unspoken apology. She was like that, though, always pressing someone over some little thing, digging her dirty nails in needlessly. But when he saw her shrink away, he relaxed. It wouldn’t do to embody a threat. It wouldn’t work in his favor anyway. He folded his hands on the break room table.David had done this often over the years, kept this heat from burning his insides. It was probably some vestige of childhood he couldn’t place, something he only remembered in his body. He had never snapped thankfully but he had been close many times. It was the tiny cuts that got to him, not a drunk throwing a punch or an ex spewing their heartbreak on the street in front of strangers. It was the mockery, the smug look of victory when someone finally got to you.He remembered this now and quieted himself. Janine did not want to hurt him, but he had to flip that switch and behave.“A friend told me he had a college professor who was born, schooled, lived, and died in the same 5 square miles. Sometimes its choice, other times chance. The guy was from PA, by the way and had never been anywhere else.”“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel weird about it.”They sat in silence as he finished his lunch and she busied herself looking in every direction except his. Tiring of her fidgeting and expectant, furtive glances, he spoke up.“It’s fine. But it’s really weird you’re talking since you don’t even have a passport!”“Oh, screw you!” Janine shoved him playfully, but was mostly relieved he wasn’t mad at her.“Nah, you were getting on me about not being to PA, but I’ve actually been outside the US.”He reached into his back pocket and thumbed through his wallet. When he reached what he was looking for, he hunched down onto the table. She mirrored his stance and they stared at each other in amusement like two lion cubs ready to pounce on each other and roll in grasslands.David slipped a £5 note out of his wallet and popped out of his chair, slamming down the note.“Bam!”he said triumphantly.She threw her head back and shrieked with excitement. The raucous between the two escalated and soon they were both on their feet with comedic jabs and pats on the back. Before long, they were stretched out on their chairs, panting and wiping away tears.This is what he always clawed his way back to: that lightness of forgetting. But he did not forget. Just as that heat inside him flared for reasons he didn’t consciously know, all those tiny offenses piled up ready to feed that flame.“Oh my god, this is why I should never be on shift with you,” David said.“It’s definitely a problem,” she agreed.They both looked up simultaneously to see their break was over. It was time for both to take their overnight assignments for supply deliveries in different directions. They packed up their things and walked together to the docks.“Just take 95 to 78, then 81. More scenic and less a******s than 80. The state cops don’t shoot radar like in Jersey so you can make good time.”“Yeah, it’ll be a breeze,” he assured her.“Oh, definitely,” she said raising an arm to give him a hug.“Call me when you get there, J.”“Sure thing,” she replied.The neon lights of Carlsbad Logistics shone blue light onto the pavement made slick from an overnight drizzle. Some spots reflected multicolored swirls from oil that mixed with the water. It was beautiful and calming. He stood there a while not exactly watching Janine board her rig and pull safely from the dock, but the pools of water and oil awash with light.It was pitch black along the stretch of Pennsylvania highway. Must be a time of night for only truckers and demons, he thought. The air was crisp with traces of winter but the day would be warm by the time he got to his destination. He opened the window and wafted the scent of deep woods with the occasional sting of manure.A pair of headlights ascended a hill behind him, rapidly closing the distance between them. He looked in the side mirror and squinted against the car’s high beams. He adjusted himself in the seat and placed his hands firmly on both sides of the wheel.The car pulled up beside him and two men rolled by in a cherry red convertible with the top down. Their hair whipped around their heads like strange halos, stabbing the midnight air. David glanced over and caught the gaze of the passenger. He made a fist and pumped his arm, signaling for David to sound the horn.David hated that. He could get that lame request from schoolchildren and hip grandmas alike. In the beginning, he let that request drive this strange twinge of guilt. It was stupid. But there was something in their eyes that demanded it. He could feel it burrowing into him and it twisted his will until he gave in.Now he looked at the two men beside him and felt the passenger’s eyes burrow in. He didn’t know why, but it made him angry now. The rage formed deep in his belly, rising up as heat into his chest. His body jittered to dissipate the tension.The driver tooted his horn playfully and the passenger again pumped his arm. Before, he would have wished for some glittering skyline or multicolored fall foliage to give his eyes somewhere else to land, to break the awkwardness. But there was nothing out here at this hour. He was alone, in the dark, with two eager sets of eyes compelling him to act.David looked straight ahead and sped up a little to get ahead of the car. The pair persisted, pulling next to him and shouting. The passenger scooted up and out of his seat, waving both arms to get David’s attention. The man teetered but was no less determined. They were both cracking up and having the time of their lives. David glanced over again and saw they were young, maybe in their mid twenties, with too much money and too much time. He paid them no mind and kept driving, but his grip tightened on the steering wheel.The convertible’s engine roared as they sped up, pulling in front of him. His rig was 18 wheels with a load of over 30 tons. He could not play games with these fools. The rear lights blazed red and David depressed the break.“A******s,” he whispered to himself. He threw his hands up in disbelief. He checked his mirrors and no one else was around.The car darted between the two lanes, hugging the center median in the left lane before swinging back to the right lane and breaking hard. The passenger flipped his middle finger and laughed in the glow of the rig’s headlights. That rage in his chest moved up and filled his head, beat at his temples, and locked his jaw.“Move out of the way,” he growled.The car came back into his lane for another brake check but instead of slowing down, he sped up. David rammed into the left tail light and for a moment, the driver swerved before recovering. The passenger turned with a mixture of interest and mischief on his face. They slowed down again and the back of the car crunched against the grill.David could not believe his eyes at the damage to the car. Who would risk that for some highway play? He quickly decided he did not care and sped up. This time the passenger sloshed on the bench seat then turned to look at David. This time the childish playfulness was gone and the man carried a deep foreboding like maybe he had done something wrong for which he would pay dearly.David rammed them again, knocking the car into the next lane where they slammed into the median. The tires squealed and painted dark strokes against the asphalt. Liberated metal fragment littered the road as the driver over corrected and skidded to the right, into the darkness and out of sight.In the dream room a tear streamed back into his hair.The car’s front end tipped into a ditch and it tumbled end over end through the brush. The passenger was quickly thrown from his seat and whacked against the bark of a thick tree, crushing his chest. The driver remained in the car, repeatedly banging his head against the steering wheel, then breaking his upturned glass with one smack. His left arm flailed over the door, flattened under twisted metal during the roll.The car came to rest far in a field. Fuel leaked from the punctured gas tank and spread before catching exposed and sparking wire. A whip of flame began in the undercarriage of the mangled car. Both passengers lay still in the dark at the roadside.Ahead, David floored it down the road and did not look back.David pulled into the warehouse dock and made sure his load was secure before checking in at the main office. He was greeted by a short, burly man with an amiable face.“You didn’t have to come in. Donny should be outside,” the man said, with his hands planted on his hips.“First time here, figured I’d show my face. David Fuller,” David replied with an outstretched hand.They shook hands while they stood in his doorway. The man flashed him a friendly smile, though he didn’t actually introduce himself. David was left to read off a name plate on his desk: Aaron Stoltzfus. The man saw him mouthing the name and broke in.“Stoltzfus. It’s Pennsylvania Dutch. It’s a common last name.”David nodded and withdrew his hand awkwardly. He detected a mock sincerity in Aaron that twisted his stomach with a mixture of disappointment and disgust. This would probably be their last interaction up close and the charade would soon be over.“Say, did you hear about that big accident on 78 in the middle of the night? Last stretch before 81?”David searched his mind for answer. Was that where he was last night?“N-no, I didn’t,” he stuttered. He swallowed hard and clasped his hands behind his back.The man opened up a file cabinet at the far end of the office and rifled through a drawer stuffed to its limit. He flicked each piece of paper he passed. The sound was like a drill to David’s skull.“These two guys were drunk and lost control. Real shame. Some actor’s kid and the cousin or someone.”“Did they make it?”“Nah, both are dead. The passenger wasn’t even wearing a seatbelt.”“News travels fast,” David mumbled.The man turned around from the file cabinet. “What’s that?”“That’s… really sad,” David said.“Did you see anything out there?”David drew his lips together and shook his head. The man appraised David this time, with that expression of helplessness those far from tragedy often wore. It was a spectator’s closure to hear the details firsthand that would illuminate some unassailable fact about life or give them an answer to the why. David bit his lip to keep his secret and for that man, those details would remain a mystery.Aaron finally resigned himself with a sigh before finding what he was looking for. He marked off David’s arrival and load details on an intake sheet. There would be something to take back to New Jersey in about an hour and he would be free to wait seated in the hallway until it came in.“Well, tragedies happen every day. Stay safe out there.”“Sure will,” David replied.It was fortunate that Aaron had walked away and that the hall was empty because at the moment the door closed, David’s face betrayed him. It was a dark mask of mischief with a satisfied smirk spreading.On a cork board outside the office was an ad for participation in a sleep study.Connect: Notes • Medium • Twitter • Instagram • Threads Support: PayPal • Ko-fi Get full access to The FLARE at theflare.substack.com/subscribe

Welcome back to The Listening Room for chapter three of Hypnotic. In chapter two, we learned that David volunteered for the sleep study, but not yet why. We resume with a new dreamscape. 3.“We’re going to send you into the next test run,” Vincent said. He was standing next to a reclined David in the dream room. He put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. David nodded and turned up the corner of his mouth into a half smile.“Look at the yellow square. You’re going to descend smoothly and identify your target. You will be given information about how to accomplish the mission. You will not leave until it is done. Do you understand?”His glazed eyes fixated on the yellow square as his body relaxed and his eyelids drooped. Vincent held up his index finger to the control room and the induction started. It was more fluid now which made his subject more compliant. That was the important part. No one could be thrust in while in a state of panic. You had to work twice as hard to undo the damage.Vincent cocked his head at the now sedated subject and could hardly believe his luck. Of all the subjects tested, David was the only one so far to incorporate advanced dream control. It would not be long before he was ready for what came next.He left and did not bother standing by in the control room. There was no telling how long the run would take andhe had other experiments to consider. The woman in wing F was interesting. Her dreams were like watching a video streaming service. A man in wing Y had particularly strong senses of taste and smell. Back in his office, Vincent swiveled in his high back chair to face color monitors of six other subjects in identical rooms to David. Each had a talent and would be knit together to complete the project. All the pieces would come together perfectly.David materialized in front of a glass door overlaid with wood slats. The word “Marcel’s” was etched in gold on the display window. He looked down at his outfit. Navy blue slacks, a cream and blue striped shirt, and heather gray waistcoat. His shoes were black and dull. He rocked forward and back on them. Comfortable. It made him think he had to look good from the waist up. He glanced at himself in the glass. He had a tapered fade with twisted coils at the top. His beard was gone.“Are you coming in?” He looked at the lithe woman who had stepped out of the door with one foot on the sidewalk. Her hair was jet black and bone straight, cutting across the breast of a black dress that looked like a suit jacket.“David! Hello?!” She impatiently waved him in. “It’s Friday, so I need you focused. We’re booked solid.”David glanced around at the restaurant. There was a long wood bar neatly lined with stools. Small tables peppered the remaining space. Behind the bar was frosted glass illuminated from above and below by light strips. He note the time on a clock opposite the bar. 3:00pm.“Do you need me to tell you where to go to?”“If you could? I… uh, I didn’t look at the schedule.”“You’re downstairs with Sam and Amir.”He looked back at the clock. It was 3:01. The big hand moved. He sighed and looked back at the woman. At the hostess post was a stack of business cards and tablet with seating arrangements. The screen was surprisingly vivid and he could easily read the names on each reservation. He knitted his brow. This was an exciting, albeit disorienting amount of realism.He turned left down a steep set of stairs into a lower level with brick walls and stone floors just outside the bank of guest tables. At the end of a rectangular room was a short bar and two men prepping for service.Sam, he mouthed.“I saw you at the bus stop. You were a typical space cadet and didn’t even see me wave,” Sam said as David approached.He shook his head as if he glitched. “Did you?”“Yeah, by the mall.”David had begun to call them certainties, the things he knew to be true without asking. The information was preloaded. Sam was making reference to an event that occurred in 1997 in a previous dream, but now it was 2024. And this bar was in New York City. He knew this as he knew his own name.He looked at Amir and knew he had an Iranian mother and French father. He grew up in Lebanon for six years before a regional conflict forced the family to move to France. They eventually settled in Maryland before he moved to New York in his early 20s.David looked at Sam and drew a blank. File not found. Instead he was drawn in by the graceful movements of his hands during the bar prep. He could work in a 3 foot space with ease by just pivoting on a heel. Everything was laid out within reach and his hands glided where they needed to without even looking. Light blue shirt. Suspenders. Tasteful mustache. Easy smile.“Can I help you?” Sam asked. “You’re staring.”He cast his eyes down but David could tell he was amused, if not flattered.“What do you think people will order tonight?”“Probably the apple pie martini.”At another time, the flirtatious look would have drawn David in completely, but he was preoccupied with the feeling there was something he needed to do, something he had forgotten.A heavy hand clapped him on the shoulder. David whipped his head around to see the man he spoke to at the bagel shop.“Carmine Delavecchio,” David said automatically.“Yeah. Don’t you f*****g forget it.” Carmine cackled. “You ready for tonight? This is the big test.”“I’m pretty sure I got this. No big deal.”He looked into Carmine’s plump and friendly face. His bald head was shaved smooth and under thick but trimmed eyebrows, his eyes were a forest green that glimmered like the surface of a pearl. That’s the detail.He wore a crisp white shirt with a double breasted black jacket that draped on him like jewelry. In the dim light of the bar, he was more sultan than server.“I’m glad you’re here, Carmine.” His chest tightened. He was grateful.Carmine’s lips were curled into a playful grin. “You’re too f*****g sentimental sometimes. It’s alright. Nice to be needed.”In the dream room a tear streamed back into his hair.“Holy s**t,” Toby whispered. “Look at this.”Molly scooted beside her and watched David’s changing hormone levels.“Dopamine and oxytocin are up. Cortisol is down.”“He’s emotional. Push a tiny bit of sedative to calm him. I don’t want him to wake up.”“He won’t,” Toby said firmly.“How do you know?”“Watch.”“You see that lady by the bar? Red sweater?”“With the highball glass.”“Yeah. She’s the target. Sam is going to make her a drink but the guy next to her is one of her bodyguards. He’ll be watching Sam very closely. You need to sneak beside her and drop in this pill.Carmine opened his hand to reveal a small metal box with a nondescript white pill inside. There was no inscription.“Carmine, we’re going to roofie this woman?” David groaned.“Whoa, whoa. The dossier I gave you was not there for leisurely reading. She’s a human trafficker. Lowest of the low. This is a tender mercy.”“Your buddy Sam will recommend the apple martini and some concoction with bourbon. She hates bourbon. But she likes a dirty blonde,” he said elbowing David.Then his smile dropped as he handed David the pillbox. David slipped it into his suit jacket pocket.“The pill is a delayed release cardiotoxic agent. Very dangerous and very effective. You’ll take this pill and drop it into her drink. It’ll be a cloudy drink with lots of foam and bits of apple on the bottom. Should dissolve unnoticed. It’s also tasteless.”David nodded and rubbed his hands together nervously. This was it.“Samuel Verdan is your partner on this who will save the operation if it starts going sideways. We call him The Magician. You have to trust him. If this all work out, the coroner will think she had heart failure.”David nodded again and Carmine gripped his arm. “Be cool. You can do this.”He stared over at the woman, who was laughing loudly with a companion at the bar. Sam was right behind her, cleaning a long stem glass and looking out onto the steady stream of patrons.David walked to the bar as if he were the one facing death, with a stiff and awkward gait. He sat beside the target. Bangles tinkled and rattled on her delicate wrist as she held her fresh apple martini.Sam tipped his head to David and set down a round cocktail napkin. “What can I get you, tonight?”David fidgeted on the stool beside the woman. She was facing another patron with her back to David.“Recommendations?” he asked shakily, peering up over his listless hands.“We could keep it simple. Whisky soda.”“Sounds good. Thank you.”Sam winked, then pivoted on his foot to grab a seltzer out of the fridge behind him. He decanted it into a chilled glass, then grabbed a bottle from under the bar and poured it into a jigger. He emptied it slowly onto the rising bubbles.David looked around and was thankfully near the corner of the bar with no one beside him. He looked over to see a tiny place card that said “reserved”. A detail. No one reserves a bar stool, but if you don’t want a drunk patron knocking a deadly and probably hard to come by drug out of your untrained hands, this was the way to do it.David leaned over to see the bodyguard seated one stool over. He was scanning the room and looking the target’s companion up and down, more out of suspicion than interest. David turned away just as the man looked over at him. He could feel the man’s stare setting him ablaze and broke out into a sweat. He feigned a sip of his drink, then set it down, and rubbed the tops of his thighs. Sam was busy making one more of the night’s very popular apple pie martinis.They locked eyes and Sam’s glare told David to use the moment to his advantage. The sound of the cocktail shaker masked the pop of the metal container with the pill. David removed it and placed it onto the bar with his hand over it.He inched closer and lifted his hand slowly to drop in the pill. The bodyguard had turned around completely to speak with someone beside him. David shifted to block the view of people behind him and was nearly at the rim of the glass, feeling the heat rise from his collar but not wanting to move any faster. A sudden crash in the kitchen made him jump and he fingers snapped open, dropping the pill. It rolled toward the woman’s glass and he smacked the bar top over the pill. She whipped her head around, glaring at David with disgust.Just then Sam called, “There it is!”He pointed at a large fly buzzing just out of sight. The target, her companion, and the bodyguard all looked at it flying away. Sam cut his eyes at David, who slipped the pill into the glass. It disappeared into the foam.“Can’t catch them all,” Sam said jovially.“Thanks for trying,” she said over her shoulder at David.“Sorry for the commotion.” He waved a hand, then slipped off the stool dazed and stumbled into the bathroom. He gripped the sides of the pedestal sink and looked into the mirror. There was nothing there.The video feed crackled and faded out.“He f*****g did it,” Molly said.“He f*****g did it,” Toby repeated.“How did you know?”“You get by with friends,” she said with a satisfied look.Molly rapped on Vincent’s office door and called for him to open it. She was practically hopping up and down with the news of David’s success. The last few weeks had been sedating to say the least, watching monitors and writing reports. It was the boring but necessary part of research.For those weeks, she had reluctantly trusted Toby and they started David on a regimen of twiddling his thumbs. He would wander in versions of his childhood home meeting absurd characters or doing mundane tasks.  All part of getting him comfortable, she assured. Credit where it was due, but Molly was eager to stay on track. Toby had no investment in the enterprise, just an annoying curiosity.Toby had worked on getting the resolution issues solved but this had been the first time she flipped the switch. It made a world of difference watching David move through a 4K world where he carried himself with a casual swagger worthy of a man far more refined that the scruffy dream room captive.His little friends would work to their advantage, too. David trusted them and would follow them anywhere. They needed one more major test run with all modifications in place. Then David would be ready.There was still one thing that lingered in the corner of her mind. She hadn’t pressed, but Toby didn’t tell her if she found out who Sam was. They knew David’s story from top to bottom, down to the movies he’d seen. It could not have taken that long to find the man. It bothered her.Vincent threw open the door and glared at her.“He got the target!” she said with her hands clasped at her mouth.It took a few moments for the information to register. He gaped and still made no response.“He finally did it!” She shook his shoulders and stepped past him into the office. She sunk into a chair a sighed slowly.He shut the door and leaned against it. He shook both fists in the air.“I knew he could do it. He was the only one who could have.”They sat across from each other beaming. From inception to execution took years under this partnership of equals and they could finally enjoy this breakthrough. They chatted excitedly about the early days and how they would proceed from here.A sandwich lay half eaten in crumbled paper. He picked it up from the side of his desk and sniffed it. The pesto was fragrant and earthy.“Scent is... an overlooked ally. You know, I unknowingly performed a double-blind experiment on a good friend in college.”“Really.”“Yup. I’d been gifted a scented thing for my car and didn’t really need it. I tossed it on a bookshelf and it slipped behind some textbook. My roommate sat at his desk for hours in front of that bookcase. He was a very analytic, very stoic, and sort of guarded person who you had to peel the layers off. So he’s sitting there day after day and neither of us realize this scented thing is there. We go out one night and he orders a piña colada. My word!” Vincent clapped, laughing and highly amused.“‘You?! That’s hardly your speed.’ And he says ‘I know! I just have this hankering!’ So here’s this whiskey in the jar type of guy having this fruity concoction at our local spot. He was so pleased with this drink! Anyway, maybe six months later, I’m cleaning out this bookcase in our office. We’d graduated and didn’t need all these texts. We were going to sell some, toss the rest. Anyway, as I pull out a book, this scented thing falls out. Ha! Guess what the scent was?”Molly shook her head. She was genuinely at a loss as to the answer.“Piña colada.” Vincent rocketed from his chair.“Do you see?! That little experiment changed my life. Set me on the course to this very moment. Here was a man who was virtually stone, a perfect subject. A skeptic and a curmudgeon. Embarrassed every corner hustler with a card game.” Vincent clasped his hands in a praying position around his mouth, deep in the memory.“I guarantee you would never be able to fool that man, hypnotize him, get him to believe in magic or anything! But I changed him in the tiniest way. Implanted a preference from something so minute and imperceptible. To this day, decades later, he still orders that drink.”Vincent fell silent, enraptured by his own accidental genius.“I never told him what I found on that shelf and in his mind, he just tried something spontaneous and liked it. At the time, it did make him more open, a bit less difficult of a nut to crack.”“Vincent, that’s extraordinary,” said Molly.Folding his arms in front of him and vigorously nodding, he sat back down, staring at nothing in particular.“We’re going to move forward. We already have powerful tools. His routine helps. Now we have to amp him up.”Molly smiled widely.“You know, I had something like that happen to me.”Vincent was still absorbed in his thoughts.“I woke up one morning from this really vivid dream that I was in a band and we’d wrote this smash hit called ‘Primetime’. I flew out of bed to get the lyrics down along with the melody. It wasn’t the type of music I would’ve made if I had any say, but it was this catchy pop hit.”Vincent swiveled around and narrowed his eyes at her.“Anyway. I was so excited about it! I had written a song or at least part of one, in a dream. This is the type of s**t you see on some musician’s interview.”“But…” Vincent countered.“I forget where I even was, but that song came on. I remember a bottle slipped out of my hand and I didn’t even hear it crash. I just heard my song over loudspeakers. How? I’d never heard that song before so how did it get in my head?“I went home and turned on the radio set with my alarm. I listened to that radio station for days straight before the song came on again. Primetime,” she said pensively. “I’ve been an unwitting subject too.”“The alarm went off and you were in the right stage of sleep for it to be implanted without waking you,” Vincent concluded.“Until I heard that song, I would have sworn that I came up with it by myself.”“The important part of that story is the absolute conviction. I think this will work with one of the other subjects. But you’ve also given me a possible solution in case I have a problem.”Toby waited for the click of the lock as the control room swung shut, then counted to ten. Molly would probably be celebrating this win with Vincent for a while.  She turned to her console and keys clacked quickly under her fingers. There were mere moments to spare before the dream file was fully uploaded.She could not have imagined this mad dash on her first day in Vogel Laboratories. She was fresh off an academic position doing research statistics when she took a chance at working in a sleep lab at a nearby hospital. There, she monitored patients overnight watching as charts spit out heart rates, incidences of impaired breathing, and brain activity. It was interesting work and she liked working with patients. More than anything, it was comfortable and she needed that. Academia could be a place where all the cracks in the walls and in people were only visible from the inside.One night she wondered if there was a position that married what she’d learned thus far. Having a satisfying career was always about integrating skills and applying them to the next venture. Eventually, you could find a job that didn’t feel like work. She liked the idea of that.When the position for a sleep tech with a statistics and psychology background opened, she jumped at it. Wowed by her spunk and unconventional thinking, she was hired on the spot. What good fortune! But it was confidential research project and after signing a non-disclosure agreement, she was presented with a cover job to tell anyone if they asked. It should have given her pause at that moment, but making another leap seemed like trusting her intuition and going where the road bent.Once employed, Dr. Vincent Vogel, a disgraced and ostracized academic she later found out, started introducing bits of the experiments at a time, but of course, never the whole picture. Then again, no one really did, because a consultant wouldn’t understand the implications of the study anyway. What he was clear about was creating a software package and acquiring equipment to record dreams and imprint information into the brain. Toby could figure out how to do that too. Her teenage years were spent building servers and coding with her older brother in her parent’s basement. She was also a science major in college.Vincent was stubborn and despite the input of Molly, who was actually trained in neuropsychology, he wouldn’t budge on his methods. Little by little, Toby started suggesting changes to Molly and those got through to Vincent. The study finally gained steam and Toby was proud of that.She stopped typing and in that moment realized why she was there: she was supposed to be. Her work demanded the sharpest tools she had and during this project, she used them all. Only what she was about to do was try to save someone. And she wasn’t sure how to do that yet.David was blinking away waves of vertigo when Carmine came into the bathroom. Without a word, he put a maintenance sign on the door, locked it, and popped open the two bathroom stalls to be sure no one was there.“She’s going to be here for another 20 minutes before we have to close out her tab. You did it, Dave.”David looked over at him, still in a cold sweat with knees on the verge of buckling. He rubbed his face with both hands and when he looked up at the mirror again, he could see his reflection.“I have to talk quickly,“ Carmine said with his hands in his pockets. He looked back at the locked door.“I’m going to teach you how to make exits.”David shook his head in confusion. “I can just go right through the door.”“That may not always be possible, so you have to be able to get out of here,” Carmine said gesturing up and around him. David turned to him and instantly knew what he meant.“Imagine a door. Really concentrate on it. You don’t need to create a lot of details. In fact, it’s better if you don’t. Imagine that on the other side is the waking world. Turn the handle, walk through the door, and you’ll wake up.”David chuckled bitterly. “I make a door and walk through it.”“Yes. If you ever need to get out. Imagine a door.”“Jesus, should I carry a purple crayon?”“Shut your f*****g mouth and listen. One of these days, Vogel won’t let you out.”The words gripped him and wrung him loose. His knees finally buckled and he slid down onto the floor.“You know—”“Yes. Someone helping you does. Now imagine the door. Do it.”David sat in a stupor, unfocused and struck with this knowledge that two existences were intersecting. Carmine crouched down and moved in close.“Do it now before we’re found out,” he said in a low growl.David turned toward a blank wall with a framed poster of a lavender field near sunset. He let his eyes relax as he traced rolling hills and an orange-red sky. The stalks began to sway and in the silence of the men’s room emerged the sound of crickets. Carmine held back his alarm at hearing them too.The picture frame elongated and met the floor tiles below. The beating stalks of lavender blew away like dust and wood paneling replaced it. A crystal doorknob appeared.“Talent,” Carmine said plainly. “Now get out of here.”He helped David to his feet and patted his back. David turned the knob and opened the door to a void with in bright orb in the distance. He turned back to Carmine, who nodded to urge him on. David took off running and braced again the rapidly expanding light.He jerked awake. He was in the dream room.Connect: Notes • Medium • Twitter • Instagram • Threads Support: PayPal • Ko-fi Get full access to The FLARE at theflare.substack.com/subscribe

Welcome back to The Listening Room for chapter two of Hypnotic. You can go back to listen (or read) chapter one to catch up.We encountered a scary descent into a dreamworld for David and a suggestion by tech Toby about how to improve mission results. In this episode, we see what comes from the stillness. 2.The hinges of the pass through creaked open at the bottom third of the door. A silver food tray lay in the opening.“Meal,” a voice said dully.David got off his bed and walked over to get the tray. He brought it to his fold out table against the wall and pulled up a stool. He could tell it was morning in the windowless room since the lights brightened and dimmed on a timer. Even bathed in golden yellow photons of supposed mid morning, it was dreary and dull against the cement walls.The food met caloric and nutrient needs but nothing else. Protein, carbohydrates, vegetables, and fruit were partitioned neatly on the tray.  At least there was salt and some pepper but not much else. Vincent had assured him that keeping his environment bland meant he was more suggestible in dreams.He plunged a fork into the square piece of meat product and took a bite. Not bad, but not that great. Just the routine. There was no television or radio permitted, only selected literature that did not include horror. He wondered if this is really what it took to get results, to be starved of flavor and color just to meet the project goals, but also his own.His own goals. He pressed his eyes shut for a moment to remember why he even let someone lock him in a room day and night, asking questions, taking readings, taking blood and piss. At the end of this, he would not only achieve what he’d set out to do, but maybe helped someone else. Maybe thousands of people. That made him crack a smile.He could call his parents with good news for once instead of being the last in the litter. He bristled at the thought, of still clawing toward who he was supposed to be. It felt juvenile. A hundred talents and not one to make a solid living. But he could never latch on to a world he thought was fake. Debt was numbers on a screen and interest, arbitrary. Career climbs meant the same contortion scripted from similar playbooks. Find someone to open a door for you, then walk through. Nonsense.David rebelled with every cell against what he was supposed to do and so he lived in dreams. In dreams, people were pushed by the wind down a path or could finally say what they meant with conviction. They could be strong and capable, driven by some imperceptible energy. He levitated once because he wanted to and walked across the air down the halls of his high school.He shoveled the food into his mouth and was still deflating a bloated cheek full of peas when he opened the pass through door and set the tray on it. He snatched up a book of poetry and sat back on the stool to read. He flipped to the bookmarked page and read a piece about rediscovering the places you already know.“A Day of Never by Gale Kearney. Hmm,” he muttered.David stopped a moment to contemplate the unnatural, penetrating quiet. There was a low electric buzz in the stillness that put him in a trance. He became acutely aware of his limbs in a way could hardly explain, only that it was detachment. His conciseness drifted outside his body  and he would stare at his hands, watching his finger curl and uncurl like foreign things.It was month three of the same circular journeys inside himself, of a gray and sterile routine. He tried to be grateful instead of bored, but it was hard when the hours crawled. In two hours, the door would be unlocked and he was free to use the gym. His room was large enough to be comfortable but not for any serious exercise. Opposite his table was a extra long twin bed with a beige metal frame and standard issue gray sheets. Behind the headboard was a dividing wall concealing a toilet, small sink and mirror. At the foot of the bed was a inset cabinet where he kept an extra set of clothes.The only way to consume time during these hours was in his mind. He had done that a lot before he entered the facility. At his first job as a security guard at a toy store, he wandered into a world behind his eyes until a manger noticed people stealing on his shift. That was the first of quite a few times he was let go for the same inattentiveness.David lay his head back against the cool wall and his room faded away into a bus stop by the Greenwood Mall in Edison. To his left was an elderly woman in a navy blue custodian uniform and tote bag pressed against her side. The faded logo of Bamberger’s was stamped across it in styled text. Defiant tufts of grass poked out along the curb in front of him.There was a moment of confusion amixed with a realization slipping away. He looked around and the air was filled with fine dust scattering afternoon sun. He didn’t know how he knew it, but it was 1997. He rocked back and forth on the bench as if to confirm it would squeak and it did. He stifled a guffaw. What a strange proof.Then a faded brown, boxy sedan rumbled by and there was no doubt. He heard the boom of an expensive trunk stereo rattling the car’s panels. The driver was blasting a song David knew well and he bobbed his head instinctively, recited the lines that trailed out the driver’s open window.When the car passed, David noticed a man dressed in a dark suit and wide-brimmed hat across the street with a high shrub behind him. The man wasn’t moving, just staring at the ground. David squinted and saw he was clean-shaven. Other cars passed and blocked his view before he was able to focus on the man again. Brown hair?Suddenly another man scooted beside him to his right and excused himself for squeezing into too small a space on the bench.“Hey pal,” the man said.David turned to him questioningly, “How’s it going?”The man stared straight ahead and his smooth round cheek barely moved as he talked.“I have information, but we can’t talk here.”“Oh yeah, then where?” David kept his eyes on the man across the street.“There’s a bagel place on the main drag in Fords.”“Liberty?”“Yeah. Meet me there in an hour.”The man rose with his bookbag and slung it over his shoulder. He plucked a phone from his pocket and answered.“Nah, I’m by the bus stop. I’ll meet you by the hibachi place. No, no, not tonight, I’m watchin’ my cholesterol.” He let out a halting snicker into the phone and walked away.It was that detail that broke the veneer. No one on the street had a mobile phone in 1997, much less one without buttons that didn’t need a dial up tone to access the internet. The phone use was for misdirection and in that moment, his brain defaulted to the easiest way for anyone to exit quickly: an important call. Only he was still in elementary school in 1997, when someone could not be reached if they weren’t near a landline. He had not been old enough for a pager either. A beeping pager and a nearby payphone would have filled the gap better.David didn’t want to dwell on it. That preoccupation threw him out of a dream more quickly. He was still working on that. Each time a trial. Each task a skill. Had he heard that somewhere?On the bench where his new companion had sat was a white envelope. David tucked it into his pocket, then looked across the street to see the suit clad stranger was gone.The bagel shop menu was standard fare. David ordered a bacon, egg, and cheese on an everything with a side of home fries and a coffee. It was a proper New Jersey meal if there was one. He looked at his watch. 45 minutes. His companion would show up shortly, but didn’t have to starve waiting.He heard the dunk of a wire basket into hot oil and the sizzle of eggs and bacon on the griddle. Besides the teenage waitress and a young man who wasn’t much older, the place was deserted. Weekday morning, probably.David sat facing the door and looked out on the sleepy street outside. The waitress slid a cup of coffee in front of him and set down a bowl of creamer packages. He flipped through the sugar packets on the table until he found brown sugar. A very small detail. It was sugar substitutes and regular in the 90s. He selected a French vanilla creamer from the bunch and slid the bowl toward the sugars and condiments.Inconsistencies, he thought. They were the parts filled in for the purpose of continuity but sometimes got wrong. He found one in each sequence. Maybe there was always one. Maybe he didn’t need to rely on an external object like a chess piece or a spinning top, just those inconsistencies. He would have to make sure he found one.The man from the bus stop pushed open the door and waddled in with his bookbag. He tossed it onto the bench seat across from David before sliding in. He tried to push the table for more room and was frustrated to find the table was anchored from underneath.“Hey buddy,” he said shifting to find a comfortable position. “Damn, everywhere you go these things are too small. Lucky you.”David gave a spiritless smile.The waitress brought out David’s meal and pulled a notebook from her pocket.“Hi, can I get you something?”She swept her hair behind her ear and pulled the sleeves of her gray sweatshirt over her hands.“Just a black coffee.”After the order was delivered and the waitress returned to her perch behind the register, his companion spoke.“I’m glad I caught you. Been trying to link up for a few days. I have some information on your target.”“Oh yeah?” David asked.“Looks like she’s been having a nice leisurely summer. Couple trips down the shore. Little shopping in the city. Even went out to a farm in Milford for raw cheeses. I got a cousin in Jersey City sells the same s**t. Whatever. Suit yourself, I say.”He shrugged, then reached into his bookbag and froze. David studied the scene that had paused like a VHS tape without the need for adjusting the tracking control. He sipped his coffee and scanned the corkboard advertisements near the door for little league fundraising, music lessons, and landscaping services, among many others tacked on business cards of varying ages.Behind him, the cook stood with his hand open and a spatula suspended above it while the waitress looked on in amusement. She was just leaning off her stool to stand. David turned around toward the door again to see the suited man in the shop window. He gasped.The lock slid open and a voice announced, “Gym!”David tipped his head forward. He ran his hands through his thick hair and scratched his scalp. He went farther this time, but was in no rush. Pausing the dream had become easier but the suited man moved outside his control. He shuddered.Yawning and stretching, he lumbered through the open door to the gym where his footfalls were the only sound.High in the upper corner of David’s room, a red unblinking eye captured something extraordinary.Connect: Notes • Medium • Twitter • Instagram • Threads Support: PayPal • Ko-fi Get full access to The FLARE at theflare.substack.com/subscribe

Welcome listeners and readers! This is the first chapter of The Listening Room presentation “Hypnotic”. We meet David Fuller who is a test subject of Dr. Vincent Vogel, a man doing disturbing research into dreams. 1.“You know, the closest we get to the feeling of death is the moment before we fall asleep. It’s an utterly delightful, warm, and peaceful transition we do not study enough.”Were it not for the man reclined with his arms outstretched on a modified exam chair with restraints, Vincent would have been mistaken for a lecture hall professor with his hands clasped behind his back as he paced. He shuffled his feet against the cement floor and glanced down, oddly pensive in front of what looked like a hostage in an interrogation room.“You see, you are actively engaged in processing, whether it be how the day made you feel, thoughts on what’s for dinner, perhaps the next movie you’d like to see. Then there is a slow, imperceptible depression of higher level function before you start slipping away. Until the very instant your brain converts to delta waves, or light sleep, dozing if you will, you believe you’re awake. It’s only a groan or a nudge that clues you in.”The low buzz of overhead fluorescent lights filled the consuming quiet between Vincent’s words. David lay against the stiff gray-blue padding of the exam chair, which pressed into the back of his knees where it hinged. The chair also bowed at his lower back, forcing him to sink his body into the hollow. He squirmed against a developing cramp.His head was strapped down tight enough so he could not look left or right, only straight ahead at a white wall with a yellow color block at the center. Behind him was a two-way mirror with a control room beyond it. Technicians had paused the audiovisual recording to allow Vincent his monologue. Even if David could crane his neck to stare into the dark, rectangular panel, no one would help him.David panted, staring at Vincent with pleading eyes. He dragged his tongue over his dry, quivering lips and pursed them as if to speak. To beg. But all he could muster was a choking cough as the words got lost on the way out.Vincent opened a drawer under the exam chair and pulled out a rubber mouth guard. He roughly fitted it into David’s mouth before giving him a wry smile and roving over David’s face with a pitying stare. But like clouds streaming past to reveal a blazing sun, his face brightened.“David, I am on the cusp of something extraordinary. My hope is to suspend someone in the stage right before they sleep, to reach out and touch that sleep.” He clamped the air with his hand as if catching an insect, then crushing it.“You’re helping me do that. I want to see what precisely is severing all those connections at the moment you fall asleep, so I can keep them tethered and induce a waking dream, an active dream. Imagine all society would be able to work through in their dreams. Imagine therapy through waking dreams, recreating a circumstance and making a new choice.” Vincent paced and continued lecturing his immobile subject, who tracked his movements with a mixture of horror and stubborn hope.“You’re going to help me, David,” said Vincent, tugging on the straps holding him to the chair. “We’re going to see exactly how your brain works.”David’s eyes welled up and his body quaked. He had read about horrific sleep experiments performed on prisoners of war and death row inmates. In mapping the sleep and wake mechanisms, researchers disconnected people from their reality. Subjects eventually could not tell the difference. Worse yet, there was no epilogue for unlucky survivors.“Sorry about the… accommodations,” Vincent said gesturing to the chair. “We’re not fancy here. Gotta take what we can get. This is from an internist’s office. I would’ve liked a dentist’s chair instead. I want you know I’m working on it.”David nodded against the head restraint. Vincent always kept his promises, especially when it came to the little things that mattered. The thought brought a momentary reprieve and his back sank into the hollow of the chair. He jerked against a cramp.Vincent swabbed David’s arm with alcohol and prepared a syringe. The injection was like a drop of water splashing against cement, nearly noiseless, before a pipe burst. Onset was rapid before David would feel he was lifted out of his own mind into a sea of blackness.“Look at the yellow square. Look at it, David,” he said flatly. “You know what to do when you go under. Find Mr. Feldman. Find him!” he hissed.David’s eyes fixed on the square. A slow, warm wave washed over his body. He suddenly grimaced and fought back a creeping, nauseous feeling in the back of his throat. Breathe, he said to himself. It was the top of a cliff before free fall. Suddenly he was floating, his body light and tingling before going limp. He winced against the lights and suddenly could not remember why he was struggling. His breathing slowed and his eyelids were heavy with the promise of sleep. Wonderful sleep.Vincent leaned over next to his ear and whispered, “Into the fog.”He rapidly descended into an awaiting abyss.David clamped his eyes shut, then blinked against the glare of the lights. He sat up from the exam chair drenched in sweat.  He leaned over and put his head in his cupped hands. It’s so hard. It’s so much. He shook himself and swung his bare feet down to touch the floor.He had a more comfortable exam chair like Vincent had promised, not with restraints, but plush supports that fitted the shape of his body. He went on another mission that night but did not find his target. He could not manage to alter the dreamscape this time and the target slipped away. He’d have to try again another night.Molly stepped into the control room and looked out at a now shirtless David stretching and twisting his body. He slowly removed electrodes from his chest and arms, then peeled away the Velcro strap under his chin, and removed the electrode cap.“You’re going to burn a hole in his back,” Toby said. She side eyed Molly and shook her head.Toby had three large screens at her console with blue text and graphs streaming over black backgrounds. She scanned the information and highlighted points of interest for further review. She pulled up a templated document and began fulling in the night’s observations. Molly was seated at a second console waiting for results to be compiled for comparison to a previous test run.“How close did he get to the target?”“Closer than the last time but he’s… not there yet.”Molly frowned. The test runs had begun in earnest weeks before but David had made little progress. He got stuck at similar points in the dreamscapes and rarely moved past them before eventually waking empty-handed.“Can I offer a suggestion? I mean, I know you and Dr. Vogel are the brains, but I wanted to tell you what I noticed.”“Go ahead,” Molly said absently, scrolling through the telemetry data on heart rate and brain activity.Toby sighed. “I don’t want to liken this to a video game —““But you’re about to liken it to a video game,” Molly interrupted. She scoffed and kept scrolling through the data.“You sent him in brute force on missions where he had no skills and no tools. He also had no allies. It’s just one of those things in gaming. Before you go on some big quest, you have to get familiar with your surroundings, look in your closet, talk to villagers, and have an inventory of your food and weapons.”“Sorry, where are you going with this?”“Your hero needs to start small. He needs to acquire basic skills before doing anything. I don’t mean to s**t on your experimental design, but—“Molly had turned toward her and crossed her arms on her chest.“But you didn’t scale this. You had a good idea but have taken this hurried way of approaching it.” She fell short of calling it boneheaded.She swiveled away from the console and rested her forearms on her thighs, facing Molly.“David needs signposts. He needs to recognize where he is and he needs faces he recognizes. Having watched his test runs, I’d say that’s a big part of the problem.”Molly scrunched his nose and considered her. There had been so much planning to secure their testing grounds, acquire equipment, recruit staff, and build in David’s daily routine that neither she, nor Vincent had considered such a small, albeit critical part of the study’s success and reproducibility. That oversight might be expected for a study like theirs—one that only a few knew was even taking place.“So what’s your fix for this?”Toby perked up. She swiveled back to her console and placed her hand onto a red trackball. She scrubbed through a video and stopped. She zoomed in on a figure in the background. The still was of a bartender cleaning a long stem glass. His face was partially hidden by a hazy vignette.“Which dream sequence is this? From last night?”“No, a week ago. This was the Bond themed one,” she said smilingMolly smirked at the failed attempt to create a path to the finish that David knew how to navigate.“This is the fourth time this man has shown up in the background.”“Fourth? Who is he?” Molly squinted and moved in closer to Toby’s screen. She could see his slicked back, dirty blonde hair and the shadow of a mustache. He was tucked behind a laughing bar patron but she could see two black bars on his shoulders that could be suspenders.“He’s cute.”Toby smiled. “Ovulating?”“Ugh, yes. The breakup was very poorly timed.”Toby raised both eyebrows, but kept any more comments to herself.“Whoever he is, he’s probably deep in David’s subconscious. That’s someone who can play a bigger role somehow.”“Can you do a search?”“Sure.”Toby pulled up another video and scrubbed through to find a clearer shot of the man. She soon found him standing at a bus stop in a test run where David had been speaking to a contact nearby. She copied the still of his face and dragged it over to another screen, placing it within a square panel. She toggled onto a green search button and pressed it. A blur of photos whizzed on the bordering panel.“Let me know what you find.”“Will do, boss.”Molly stood up to leave, considering who this mystery man might be and how to use him.“Uh, Molly, one more thing,” Toby said meekly.Molly stopped in the doorway. She was backlight by the harsh hallway lights and appeared in silhouette, tall and imposing. Toby inhaled deeply.“See this vignetting around the video?”She pointed to the still of the bartender, then at the bus stop. “We used to think it was rendering artifact but it’s the way David sees in his dreams. I didn’t really think about it until I tested the other subject. Their dreams are in really high resolution. Maybe that’s something else to consider?”David moved like the beat of a metronome with pieces of his routine clicking into place by the minute. Outside what he called the dream room was a long, gray hallway with cement floors and walls. On his first tour of the space, it reminded him of a fallout bunker and he imagined all the blocked off and unexplored corridors that might be down there. He had access to only a few doors, none of which led out of the facility.David turned into the small changing room with a center bench between a few wood-paneled lockers. No one else was ever there, though. He stripped off his sweaty clothes and dropped them into a nearby hamper. There was an adjoining sitting shower where he’d run the water hot for a few minutes while he breathed in the steam. Then he’d grab a wash cloth and a bar of unscented soap.When David returned to the bench, his clothes were laid out: always a pair of soft gray chinos and cream long sleeved shirt with white socks and gray slip in shoes. It had ceased to be strange after a while and was just the routine. He got dressed and headed down the empty hall to his room.Connect: Notes • Medium • Twitter • Instagram • Threads Support: PayPal • Ko-fi Get full access to The FLARE at theflare.substack.com/subscribe

You’re in the Listening Room, a podcast series by The FLARE Substack. I’m Chevanne, the voice behind both.If you’ve been a fan for a while or at least gone through my podcast archive, you know that each year on October 3rd, I share an audio presentation. Today continues that tradition as both a celebration of a medium I’ve become more passionate about over time, audio performance, and of my birthday.I’m 40. Saying it out loud feels heavy because this time felt so far away when I was up at night watching X-Files reruns or reading Fear Street novels as a teen. Time is no longer a slug, but an arrow and I feel it.My birthday has always been a big event with high expectations, mostly of myself. In recent years, however, I haven’t been able to meet them because it is after all, just another day. I remember telling someone it had never rained on my birthday. It was always sunny, until one year it wasn’t. As I got older, big plans for solo vacations were rapidly scaled back by my own fear and sometimes family obligation.Was this day a happy event? I’d spent a long time thinking so but a therapy session revealed I was unwittingly raging against this feeling of being in the same place, of doing the same things. I was disappointed but showed up every October 3rd as if the sadness never came.This year, rather than work myself up with expectations of this big day, I’m changing the narrative. One relates to feeling like I’m in the same place. If I cannot be somewhere new, I can find something new in the places I already go. I’m hoping to lean into that shift and adjust my expectations. In the end, it’s better for me.I’m also making October 3rd a beginning. Nothing has to be formed and ready but it’s a good day to get started. I’m starting now.At the end of the show transcript are two deals for a Forever Founder and Forever Fan, both 40% off for life.Now let’s get to the fiction.In this season, we meet David, who signs up for an extended sleep study to find a potential cure for his insomnia. He adopts a rigid routine designed by a researcher and his assistant who use certain cues to induce his sleep. David doesn’t know he is being studied in other ways as well.We go into his dreams but it’s uncertain if he’ll be able to leave them, as the waking a sleeping worlds become two sides of a coin.To note, this story is still under construction. It’s a potentially complex topic I’m working through so the goings may be slow. Feel free to email [email protected] with questions or insight.Episodes will premiere each week on Tuesdays at 2pm starting October 15th. Hope to see you there.Happy listening!I’m offering two deals for founding and yearly subscriptions starting today. As always, thanks for your support of this newsletter and of my work. Put in $120 for your founder discount. I’ll send a confirmation to approve the Forever Founder status. Connect: Notes • Medium • Twitter • Instagram • Threads Support: PayPal • Ko-fi Get full access to The FLARE at theflare.substack.com/subscribe

And now for the conclusion…When school let out for the summer Martin was dangling at the end of his rope managing the two starkly different parts of his life. He had finally gotten done wrapping up the year a week afterward. The classroom had been cleared out and he headed home, tired but satisfied. He fantasized about a hot shower and crisp, cold bed sheets as he trudged up the front steps. Before his key entered the lock, he could hear laughter coming from inside. It was Lena and someone else he didn’t recognize. Martin shrugged it off and opened the door. His work bag slipped from his hand as he saw the guest sitting comfortably at his dining room table.“Marty!” Alonzo hollered before jogging over to meet him at the door. “Welcome home,” he whispered mischievously.Lena playfully shoved Alonzo out of the way and planted a kiss on her husband’s stiff lips. “Alonzo was just telling me about the work you do together. Logistics, client recruitment… seems like you could get in full time over the summer with school out. You could make a lot.”She joined Alonzo at the table and motioned for Martin to join them. “Why you still standing with the door open?! Wastin’ all my air conditioning.” “You know,” Alonzo started somberly. “You remind me of my mom, of what little I remember.”As Lena’s face softened, she didn’t notice Martin lowering himself slowly into the chair between them.“She was kind, welcoming, and really really loved me, you know? Like, I couldn’t do wrong in her eyes.”“What happened to her?”“She, uh, she passed away, unfortunately. Car accident.”“Goodness! I’m so sorry. You were young, right?”“Yeah. Uncle Leo took me in with my sister Cariann. We’re like his kids. Everyone here just made me feel real welcome. Like I wasn’t alone.” Alonzo lowered his head and brought his hand up to his dry eyes.Martin glared at Alonzo with disgust. “I thought you and Cariann had the same mom and she’s very much alive.”His head rose with a cold and blank expression. “You got it wrong, Marty.”“I’m not sure I do.” “Martin, leave the man alone!” She scurried to Alonzo’s side, patting his shoulder. “Let me get that book you wanted to borrow.”He smiled sweetly, holding onto her hand for a moment. He turned quickly back to Martin.  “Relax. You’re going to have to. She’ll be back in a second and you’re, uh, telling on yourself.”Martin did not take his eyes off Alonzo.“Here you go: Scattered Poems by Jack Kerouac. That’s a pretty specific request. Most people want the big titles. How’d you hear about it?”“Oh you know,” Alonzo said, still looking at Martin. “Just poking around you find interesting things.”Martin forced a twitchy smile, but under the table, was gripping the chair until his fingers cramped. “You got what you came for. Better get going, friend.”“I sure will.”“Come back anytime. I have lots more books.”“Appreciate it Mrs. LaSalle.”“Oh, call me Lena. It’s fine.”His feigned shyness nearly evaporated when he turned to Martin. The men grasped hands, each applying more and more pressure. “Okay, you two! Good night, Alonzo. See you later,” she escorted him to the door. There was more giggling and playful banter on the porch before Lena returned amused and refreshed.“Jealous much?” she said, rolling her eyes. “He’s a kid and I remind him of his mom.”“I don’t want him here.”“Wow, okay, it’s that deep? You think something’s going to happen between us?”“No, I just—”“Martin. We’re in a new neighborhood. He’s a friend.” Exasperated, she left him sitting at the table and closed the door to her office.Martin was no longer a guest at the Filbert Street building, but a member. He entered without an escort and passed Uncle Leo on the stairs, waving as he went. He had business with Matthew. He could not work with Alonzo anymore. Things had gotten out of control. He pounded on the apartment door, breathing heavily, but not from his swift ascent. He had a lot to say about what had been going on. He was filled with a mixture of fear and rage. Martin pounded again, more insistent this time.The door creaked open. Martin’s face tensed as he stared at Alonzo. Just the person he didn’t want to see. “Where’s Matt?”“He left.”“To where?” “Not sure,” Alonzo said nonchalantly. “New assignment.”“I need to speak—”“You can speak with me. I’m your new boss.” He opened the door widely to reveal a newly designed apartment. The fear dissipated and was entirely replaced with rage. No one was in the trailer in PA. He’d had the summer to case the area and noted that associates only occupied the house briefly when they were due to deliver. A big shipment had come in the week before and there would be nothing coming for a month. Martin brought the bulletproof vest Alonzo gave him. He opened up the trailer and found a scant dwelling with no personal items. A few snacks and soda cans in the refrigerator. The bed was made. Martin returned right before he knew he’d be called for a pickup and knocked on the door. Before the occupant could say a word, Martin pointed a gun in his face. “Get inside.”“You dumb as f**k.”“Shut up.”He began stuffing his duffel bag with money and drugs. “You won’t get far, trust me.”“Shut up!”“Hey, LaSalle.”Martin’s head whipped around to find Alonzo casually standing in the doorway.“How the hell—”“While you were learning our habits, we were learning yours. Shame. You teach, but don’t learn,” Alonzo said. He held the door open for the other man, who quickly ran out into the dark.“I have a gun.”“I know. One of mine.” Alonzo shrugged, “Martin, you don’t know what you’re doing. You could be living just fine. You got the new apartment, a nice little office in the front room. You could have quit anytime. That’s the beauty of it. We don’t hold on to people. But that’s because…we’re your neighbors, your students, employers, shop owners… if you stay, you need to keep quiet. And if you go, you still gotta keep quiet. Cuz I might be a neighbor again.”“You’ve killed people. You’re kidding yourself.”“How do you think heat has never been in our neighborhood? There’s nothing to see. Old ladies coming from the airport. Students bringing home science projects…” Alonzo opened the fridge and got a can of soda. “It’s perfect. We live like rich people. People in the organization don’t pay for anything. We eat good food, and we don’t have to be where we are not welcome.”“Police are watching you. They always are.”“They know what we tell them. We might sacrifice a shipment and some unfortunate dudes to keep up the lie, but for every kilo they catch, we already sold 20.” Alonzo chuckled then belched loudly and laid on the bed. “Relax LaSalle. You’re not leaving this trailer. Not tonight.”Martin made a running start toward the lounging man and was struck with a quickly raised elbow. Falling back, he came at Alonzo again, punching him in the jaw, then in his belly. Alonzo fell forward wheezing then rose fast, headbutting Martin, who stumbled back without falling, catching himself against the trailer wall. Alonzo grunted, his mouth dripping blood, and went on the attack. The men tussled violently, shaking the trailer and knocking over what little was on the shelves. Alonzo tried to keep his distance. The kid wasn’t as confident with his fists as he’d been with a gun in hand. He began hurling whatever he could find to stop Martin’s advances. After deflecting a flying drawer, Martin lunged forward, suddenly close enough to grab Alonzo, who he threw to the ground. Martin quickly settled his weight on top of him, beating him about the face and chest. Bloodied, exhausted, and nearly unrecognizable, Alonzo fell still. Martin quickly tied him up, with a piece of torn bed sheet already stained with their blood. Just then, Martin noticed the headlights of cars pulling up. He ducked down behind a seating area and looked out a broken window. Alonzo groaned in the next room. He was still down.Men approached the trailer, donned in black with sunglasses and fitted caps. They were armed. A deepening dread filled Martin as he thought of Alonzo’s last words to him.You’re not leaving this trailer. Not tonight.A loud bang rang through the metal siding, startling Martin. He fell back and knocked over a kettle. The men outside could hear the commotion and knew their target was still inside. The first few shots blew holes in the upper cabinets. A few others knocked out the front window. One hit a wind chime. Martin stood up and started firing back, ducking down and shifting position when the strangers returned fire. They started emptying their clips with a tighter grouping of bullets. Martin did not relent and emptied his own clip.One man stepped forward and fired directly at Martin through the broken front window, hitting him in the neck, then the chest and hand. Martin slumped back against the cabinets and powerlessly grasped at his wounds as he slowly bled out. The man stepped closer and continued firing as Martin's vision blurred and his senses faded. His body grew limp as he desperately fought against his diminishing strength. He was hit twice more, in the chest and thigh.When the men entered the trailer, Martin was leaning against the splintered cabinets and barely breathing. They turned toward Alonzo, who sounded grateful to be found. His tone quickly changed. There were scuffles as Alonzo pleaded and struggled.Blood dripped over Martin's eyes and burned. He could faintly hear Alonzo screaming now. Everything was distant and all he could think of was going to sleep. Then a single shot was fired. The trailer fell silent.“What do we have here?” the detective said.“One dead, tied up, beaten, and shot. “F**k.”“I know. The other one was shot multiple times. He’s in the ambulance.”The detective rushed over before the ambulance could leave. “Wait, wait, let me see him. Is he conscious?”“No, he’s dead. We pronounced him an hour ago.”“Did he say anything?”“His throat was full of blood. Too far gone. He was barely alive when we got here.”Dejected, the detective approached an officer taking notes at the scene.“Say, Matt, what’s your theory?”“Looks like the guy in the vest came to steal. Definitely. Maybe his friend is the inside man who set up the heist. The crew makes an example of him.”“Nice. And we already know the  guy inside?”“Alonzo Perez. Bronx native. No ID on the other man.”“You’re from there, right? You knew Alonzo?”“Yeah, he worked for my Uncle. Nice kid.”The detective patted his shoulder and went to give a statement to the growing crowd of reporters. Matthew stared at the trailer, dutifully scribbling notes. His burner started buzzing. He had a new text. “Dinner’s done?”“Yeah .”This season was written and directed by me. Story editing by Leigh Green. Sound effects from freesound.org. These seasons are never easy.. to write them, but especially to record and add sound and richness to it. I hope you’ve enjoyed this presentation and I’ll see you next time. Get full access to The FLARE at theflare.substack.com/subscribe

In our last episode, Martin made a surprising commitment that took him to new lows. This week, we see how deep it goes.The FLARE is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.3.Alonzo took after his Uncle Leo. He had a quiet confidence about him that contrasted his cousin Manny’s twitchiness and Matthew’s phony bravado. He was smooth, dressed in dark colors with matching sneakers. His car was just as sleek and dark, with large bench seats. It smelled of city air and, faintly, of something sweet. As they got in, Alonzo opened the center console and pulled out a small bag of gummy bears. He idly munched on a few before offering some to Martin, who indulged. Then he put the car in gear and cruised out of the neighborhood.They drove upstate over two hours through rolling hills and spotty cell service. It was the first time Martin had spent more than a moment with someone on official business. It was too long a ride to say nothing and eventually they started on local news, then sports. Before long, they were all smiles, gliding along on the warm leather seats of Alonzo’s car. They came to an isolated cabin by a lake and Alonzo stopped the car. “Wait here.”He returned moments later with a long duffle bag and put it in the trunk. They stopped for a bite to eat a few miles down the road, sitting on park benches outside a roadside dive. “What’s in the duffle bag?” Martin asked, with a partially filled cheek. Alonzo chuckled and continued eating. He stared beyond Martin. “You’re not supposed to ask those things,” he finally said.“I know and I haven’t so far. But it looks a little different — ““Don’t get curious. Not a good idea.” Alonzo said coolly.They headed back on the road and eventually pulled up to a junkyard just outside the city, in the early evening light. Alonzo shut off the headlights as they pulled in through the high fencing.“Come inside.”Martin grabbed the bag out of the trunk and followed Alonzo to an office trailer. The floor was lined with discount carpeting and had a single desk. A man emerged with a name tag that said “Frank”.“What’s up?” Alonzo shook hands and motioned toward the bag. Frank took it eagerly and zipped it open. There were oblong bags of sand and children’s beach toys. Taken aback, Frank picked up a tiny blue shovel, then let it fall from his hand. “What the hell…”A loud pop and blinding flash filled the office. A single, round, red spot spread across Frank’s checkered shirt. He locked eyes with Martin in bewilderment as light left his eyes and he dropped, deflated onto the floor. Martin could taste iron and moments passed before he realized he’d bitten his lip hard enough to draw blood. He unclenched his jaw. Alonzo lifted a large tarp out of the duffle bag and motioned for Martin to come over. Martin was still breathless and outside himself.“Martin! Damn, you want an invitation?” That partly snapped him back, enough for him to clumsily grab the corner of the tarp and spread it out.They rolled Frank onto the tarp and lugged him out to the far corner of the junkyard. Overhead, tangled rebar and broken pieces of colored glass lay strewn atop a brick wall. They reached a small clearing and Alonzo nodded to put the body down slowly.The corner was stacked with rusted old cars. Beyond the wall was a train yard that stood vacant at this time of night. Alonzo opened a nearby trunk and they swung the body back and forth until the momentum allowed Frank to fall sprawled inside. Walking back, Martin was struck by a putrid smell that floored him. He gasped and held his breath. It had nauseating components, few of which he could identify. It was unlike anything else and he dared not probe as to its source.“What did you do?” he said, shaking his head. “We. We paid back a cheat and a liar.” Alonzo grabbed the duffel bag on his way back to the car. “This is a sword that somehow went missing. We were supposed to sell it for good money. People love old s**t… Anyway, somehow it went missing. Frank handled the imports and claimed he got ripped off. Come to find out he had a dude hide it upstate. But Frank didn’t know the dude he hired to help con us is with the organization. Anyhow, guy tipped us off.” His face lit up as if he were recalling some pleasant memory. “Dude is hilarious. Set up the sand and the toys. Like, you’re going on vacation.” Alonzo took more gummy bears out of the center console. “Love these. So fresh! Want some more?”Alonzo hadn’t stopped talking before he paused to lock the doors.“So we’re taking this artifact back to get sold. My buddy Frank here, is retired. By next week, someone else will take over.”Martin stared straight out the windshield, half listening as Alonzo continued talking, half wondering what else may be in the trunks of those cars. Just then, the familiar, putrid smell wafted in through the window. He caught the bile in his throat, swallowing it hard. He started to shake and sweat with waves of hot and cold over his skin. “You cold?” Alonzo asked.“Yeah. Could you close the windows?”“Shame. It’s a nice night.” He started the car and pulled out of the junkyard.Another Saturday, the burner buzzed with a text. “Come out to Carl’s at 8pm tonight.”Martin arrived to see Alonzo leaning against a slightly beat up car in front of Carl’s Bar. He was still shaken from their last encounter and reluctantly held out his hand for a set of keys. “Take this out to PA. There’s a trailer at this address.” Alonzo handed Martin a piece of paper.“95 Millcreek Road. What’s there?”“Told you about that curiosity.” Alonzo was shaking his head while he popped gummy bears into his mouth. “Somebody will be in the trailer. They’ll have some bags for you. Bring them back to your building. A friend will be waiting.”The road out to Pennsylvania got darker and darker as he left the bright lights of New York behind, but Martin was relieved to be alone. Off the exit, the roads were pitch black and winding. There were only two lanes and a lot of blind corners where large pick-up trucks and small speeding cars barreled through. It was already late and Martin was tired, drifting into the shoulder before swerving back onto the road.He finally reached the trailer and stepped out. He knocked on the door and the lights came on. He vaguely recognized the occupant. Maybe he was the cab driver that first time or a delivery guy during another. Whoever he was, the man handed Martin two large suitcases and shut the door without a word. He had to admire their discipline. They really were a collective of few words. On the road back, Martin stopped to rest. It was nearly midnight. He pulled into a quiet lodge and parked at the far end of the lot. Pulling his hoodie over his eyes, he soon fell asleep. He awoke with a start to the sound of a dog barking. He’d had fitful sleep and felt a sharp pain in his neck. He got out to check in the trunk. The suitcases were still there. He stared at them for a moment and wondered what was inside. Money? Drugs? More antiques? Curiosity got the better of him and he partially unzipped one suitcase to find neat, clear packages of stiff white powder. The other had stacks of clean and crisp bills of every denomination. His mind immediately turned to escape. If he could just get his hands on enough money to leave town… there was no telling how things would escalate or what else he’d have to endure on jobs with Alonzo.As he closed the trunk, a man stood before him. Martin jumped, shocked that he hadn’t heard the stranger approach.“Any trouble?” Martin panicked.“Oh no! I’m okay. Just needed to— “ “What?” The man was solid and imposing with large, worn hands. “What were you doing?” They both glanced toward the trunk.“I should call someone for you— ““No, it’s fine. I’m fine. I just need to get home.” Martin squeezed past the man to the driver’s door, got in his seat and sped away, watching the man from his rearview mirror standing like a sentinel.On his way into his building, a woman he’d never seen approached him. She repeated the pick up site’s address. He handed her the bag and she disappeared into the other wing of the building. He was too drained to think about where that bag would end up and trudged up the stairs, entering his empty apartment. After a hot shower, Martin collapsed onto the bed. The alarm blared loudly on another Monday morning, but the music upstairs had already gotten him up. He had been making runs to Pennsylvania on the weekends and was exhausted Monday mornings. He told Lena he had a new “hauling” job that put him on the road. Sometimes those trips included Alonzo. Whenever Alonzo shook hands with someone, Martin didn’t know if the person was there for a drink or to die. Sometimes it was both. Martin hated the way Alonzo toyed with people, how he sometimes laughed and ate with people before relieving them of their property or worse. Martin would have to sit there, pretending along with him until the scheme unfolded. Martin wanted out and had begun stashing bits of cash here and there, unnoticed, he was certain. He hoped to eventually squirrel away enough to sever ties and no longer need to work odd jobs. He and Lena were finally moving to a new apartment close to the school, but also at the heart of the organization. He needed to stay close to learn what he could and plan his next move.He’d taken the week of Spring Break to unpack and get his bearings. The new apartment was spacious and bright, with tall windows and only one neighbor next door in the two-family house. It was also quiet. There was room enough for everything: Martin’s weights, Lena’s manuscripts and watercolors, maybe even a pet if they wanted one. They had not yet settled in completely when a knock came. Lena opened the door while Martin remained in his new office, sifting through his supplies. Then he heard a voice at the door that pierced through him. He rushed over to Lena and saw him,  leaning casually in the doorway, less than a foot away from her. “Hey,” Alonzo stood beaming at his doorstep. “Cherry pie. It’s rich but good. Corny, but you know, trying to be a good neighbor.” His outstretched arms hung in the air as Martin stared stone-faced. Alonzo’s face shone brighter with something more, something disturbing. “You gonna take it or what?” Lena interjected. She grabbed the pastry with thanks and shimmied inside. “Alonzo— ““Don’t worry, she’s not my type. Came to check on you. There’s work tonight.” His face suddenly turned dark. Martin braced himself for another long night.Rashad waited until everyone left the classroom and approached Martin. “Mr. LaSalle, I heard some things about you.”“Oh yeah, like what?”“That you work for Manny an’ dem.”Martin paused. “Who told you that?”“Ain’t no real secrets around here.”“Hmph. I… I don’t know how that rumor started…”“But it’s true. Isn’t it?”“Rashad— ““Mr. LaSalle, you come in here with ya back straight, neat clothes, and don’t take s**t from nobody. You tell us not to make the wrong choices.”“I can’t do what you do. I work on my own time, away from here, and I can pay my bills. Think I can come here and doze off?” Rashad rolled his eyes and Martin continued.“My daily bread don’t come easy either. I got a degree and did all the right things. I still didn’t get ahead.”“So you just like the rest of us, with no choice but to hustle?”Martin didn’t answer and Rashad's face tightened, thick with anger and the disappointment poured from his mouth.“That’s not true! You know that! I work every day, just like you. Ain’t no reward for hard work. Temptation is there, but at the end of the day, I want to lay my head down.”“After a point, Rashad, it really just is about the money.”Rashad guffawed, shocked, and clapped his hands. “Are you for real right now?!”“What’s funny?”“You! You have a choice. Everyone has a choice. You makin’ the wrong one.”Martin was done with this conversation. “You have to get to your next period. Get going.”Rashad threw his backpack on and walked toward the door. “Mr. LaSalle, just make sure you make it back home.”The work had escalated to much more than that night in the junkyard. Alonzo was doing all kinds of jobs. He was a ghost. Gone in the daytime hauling products and settling scores at night. Guys like him kept the organization’s illusions intact. Someone had to do the cleaning.One night, Alonzo handed him a bullet proof vest and a gun. “It’s part of your upgraded status.” Together, the two robbed rivals and intimidated informants. Martin resented Alonzo. The man was cruel and dangerous. A ten-minute job could turn into a two-hour sadist event. It was frightening to see someone so joyful in another’s suffering. Eventually, Martin started getting sent out alone as a stick-up man, yet another organization upgrade. But wherever he went, he felt Alonzo just over his shoulder.  Get full access to The FLARE at theflare.substack.com/subscribe

In our last episode, Martin falls under increasing pressure and finds his future as a teacher more uncertain than ever. This week, we see whether he’s given in to looming temptation.The FLARE is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.2.Martin awoke alone that Saturday morning, with aching muscles and swollen eyelids. His whole body felt tense with shame and the remnants of his fight with Lena. She had already headed out and probably wouldn’t come back until the end of the day.I was such a dick last night, he thought as he lumbered into the bathroom to wash his face and start the day. While the tea kettle warmed up, he picked his pants off the bedroom floor and began emptying the pockets. He found that phone number and threw it onto the table. He wafted the fragrant tea and sat in silence.  It was unlike the building to be this tranquil. Maybe they heard us this time, he thought, with a smirk. He grabbed his cell phone and called the number.“Hello?”“Hi, this is Martin LaSalle — ““Yeah, yeah! Thanks for calling. You busy today?”“Nah. Just… here.”“Okay. Come by 6th and Filbert. I’ll meet you in a half hour.”Manny hung up before Martin could say goodbye. He stood in his kitchen, with his cooling tea. What the hell am I doing?Martin arrived early and waited near a stop sign on the corner. A young man of no more than 20 approached with a rehearsed confidence. “Hey, Mr. LaSalle. Thanks for coming. Follow me,” Manny said quickly. He held a wide stride to hold up his baggy pants and kept adjusting his ear-length hair. They entered a nearby apartment building and Martin stopped for a moment in the doorway, scanning his surroundings before entering. Manny opened an apartment on the third floor that looked more like his grandmother’s place than his own. It was. He led Martin to the dining room.“This is my Uncle Leo. Uncle, this is who we told you about.” Without another word, he left the apartment and locked the door.“Sit down,” Leo said. “Can I get you anything? Something to drink or eat?”“Oh, no thank you.” Martin tried his best to feign comfort, but one leg of the chair seemed slightly shorter than the rest. It kept rocking under his weight. “I don’t like a lot of chatting and from what I hear, you don’t either. A no-nonsense type of man, am I right?” Leo chuckled, revealing a gold tooth at his left canine. “I’m in the business of opportunity and I want to share that with a straight shooting man like yourself. It’s very simple work. I’m sure you’ve done more for less.“You seem like you know how to maintain. How to keep organized. You don’t let people get you out of your element.”“That’s true.” It was taking time to get to the nature of this job.Sounds came from the kitchen and Leo called out, “Caraaaa! Come in here, baby.” Cariann soon emerged, innocently looking at Martin.“This is my princess, Cariann. You know Mr. LaSalle?”She gave a shy wave. Leo pulled her closer and planted a kiss on her cheek. Her eyes cut into Martin. Yet another dare.“Family is very important here. Hopefully you feel welcome,” Leo said. Then he looked around expectantly and, as if cued, the door opened. Another man appeared and Leo gestured to the newcomer.“Follow him and you’ll meet my associate upstairs. Good luck.”Ascending two more flights, they approached an apartment tucked into a back corner. The stranger knocked loudly and waited a few seconds before opening the door for Martin. As Martin entered, he heard the deep hollow sound of the door closing and a heavy deadbolt sliding into place behind him.“Mr. LaSalle. Pleasure. I’m Leo’s nephew Matthew.” This young man, only slightly older than Manny, shook his hand. “What we need from you is help… with logistics. We move sensitive items that we’d like to keep out of customs. Now, we deal in a lot of different products. I have connections all over.” Matthew motioned toward objects in bubble wrap in boxes on the floor behind the desk. “They say it’s worth however much. I’m just here to satisfy the customer,” he said shrugging. “Now, to maintain confidentiality, we do not disclose the package contents. We simply need you to transport it to a designated location and drop it off. Each run varies in payoff. You can make a very easy 2k by the end of the week depending on the job.”Martin had known immediately from Matthew and Leo’s guarded language that the “products” were drugs. Even before then, the honey pot lure of an eager teenage girl had probably snagged others before him. He hadn’t been willing to entertain Cariann’s proposal until his contract negotiations tanked. He could not work nights cleaning offices like Rashad. Martin never thought he’d get in on trafficking for quick cash. It was something he’d warned his students about. He knew there could be grave consequences, but, like Rashad said, rent’s due on the first.  He convinced himself right away, alarmingly quickly, that this was different. That he was different. He was a grown man, not some naive kid. “Sounds good,” Martin said. They stood up and shook hands. Matthew handed him a burner phone.“You need to answer when we call,” Matthew said. He stared right into Martin’s eyes. In minutes, Martin was out on the sidewalk and the fog of his encounter lifted. What had he just done? Monday came like any other with the usual routine. Martin had said nothing to his wife when she got home that evening or the following day. She didn’t need to know. Not yet. He kept his burner in his work bag, wedged between worksheets and paperbacks. Martin didn’t know when he’d receive a call, so he stayed on high alert. Days went by with no contact. One late morning a week later, just before his free period began, a loud buzz came from his bag. The number was unlisted. He answered.“Come outside,” a man’s voice said.He darted out of his classroom quickly, nervous and short on time. As he moved down the hallway, he noticed the principal approaching as if to speak with him. Martin hugged the wall slyly, disappearing into a crowd of students coming back from gym class. Outside, a cab was waiting.“LaSalle?” “Yeah, that’s me.”“Get in, we’re going to the airport.”His chest tightened. The airport was at least 35 minutes away. He would be cutting it close coming back, even with no traffic. They sped toward the highway ramp and weaved through traffic, arriving in just over 25 minutes. At the arrival gate, they stopped in front of an old woman with two suitcases. “This is your grandmother. Take her bags,” the driver said. His eyes seemed to continuously scan his surroundings.Martin got out and smiled warmly at the old woman.“You came so quickly! Good to see you,” she said, reaching out for a hug. Martin obliged. He put her bags in the trunk and helped the frail woman into the cab. Martin could scarcely think of anything to say, his thoughts were scrambled and disjointed, though mainly preoccupied with getting back to school on time and praying that he’d face little scrutiny regarding his absence. The driver sped back toward the highway, exiting in a quiet neighborhood. When they came to a stop, the woman finally spoke.“You did all right for a first timer. The worst thing is to get too involved. Just A to B, no detours. Eyes on the road. You’ll do alright.” She patted his knee, squeezing firmly with her bony fingers, and got out of the cab. She lifted her own bags from the trunk and slammed it, giving a knock on the hood to signal that she was through. The driver sped off, while Martin, peering through the back window, witnessed  Manny ambling out to help the old woman carry her bags inside. Within minutes, they were back at the school doors. Martin stepped onto the curb but before he could get a glimpse of this hayride operator, he’d sped off down the street. That’s it, he thought. It had been remarkably simple, yet he was left with an unease in his chest, one that remained as he rushed to his classroom to find Mr. Druthers waiting. “Martin, hi. I just wanted to touch base real quick. I sent your study hall next door.”Martin held his breath to keep his chest from heaving from bounding up the stairs. He was very late returning.“I know it’s been hard, but we value you. You’re a great member of the team and I think you’ll be tenured in no time. You’re educated, confident, organized, and never let these students take you out of your element.”Suddenly, Martin was at attention. He knew Druther’s boilerplate manager-speak, but there was something about the end of that phrase that rang deep in his brain.“Let’s stick together on this,” Druthers said, winking.  He started out the door and called with his back turned. “Take the period off. You look tense.”Over the next few months, Martin did a variety of drops. Some were like the midday airport run, others consisted of long drives to pick up mail from a PO Box a few towns over or in a neighboring state. He heeded the old lady’s advice, never getting too involved or making conversation. Every driver, every runner, every delivery person was anonymous. Little eye contact was exchanged. To him, these trips became as mundane as running errands and he treated them with the same nonchalance.  Payment for his services was unlike anything he imagined. Martin’s vision of a bathtubs full of cash was a fantasy. Cash was conspicuous, too difficult to hide. This criminal organization ran a number of shell businesses with clean owners and supply chains. Members of the organization went shopping at these businesses with nothing in their pockets. The money was all on the backend and there was simply trade of goods, with the legitimate transactions involving fund transfers. On the surface, everything was above board. Everyone involved had a “job” where they reported each morning, only to retire to a back room to sleep or play cards or drink until it was time for the real work.Martin’s money came as direct deposits, some for freelance work, others for construction, or tutoring. They all traced back to real people with real names and companies. He often wondered just how big this organization was. It was complex and intricate, taking lessons from criminal syndicates and drug lords of decades past. Sometimes a business would go under and be replaced by another. They were farmers of a different sort, leaving land fallow for a season before planting something new. Martin thought he convinced Lena he was working odd jobs for extra money to hang on long enough to be tenured. He left for hours at a time to “work” and often came back late, giggling and reeking of alcohol. He stumbled in some nights with the naive assurance Lena knew nothing. Their bills were being paid on time and she never complained. But it was a poorly constructed facade. “Martin, we need to talk,” Lena said.“About what?”“These odd jobs you’re doing.”“Lena, I’m trying to — ““Martin, do you think I’m f*****g dumb? Does it make sense for anyone to pay you real money to go drinking?”Martin stared blankly.  “Manny’s family owns the business. They supply some local restaurants. They’re a cool bunch.”“You are playing with their money. Ain’t nobody that cool. Where did you even find this ‘work’?”Martin’s words tangled in his throat.“What if somebody sees you?” “No one’s going to see—”“I do. I see you. And I don’t like it. We could have made a lot of money doing something else. We chose this. How do you think I feel? They got me editing the worst dribble while my own book gets dusty on someone’s desk.” She paced as she spoke. “You are living like a 22 year old fresh out of college. Maybe they’re paying you what you deserve.”“That’s not fair. That offer was disrespectful and you know that. They screwed me.”“And you’re screwing yourself, messing around with those kids who got nothing to lose.”Martin knew Lena was right and “quit” his most troublesome job, much to her relief. But the work would keep coming.One idle Saturday, while they were both home, his burner buzzed. Lena looked up, eyeing his bag, but before she could grab it, Martin lunged ahead of her. He snatched up the bag.“I got it! Thanks, it’s fine.” He slid into the apartment's tiny bathroom and closed the door before answering in a loud whisper.“Hello?” “Matthew’s place at 1:30pm today,” a voice said. They hung up and he left the bathroom. Martin avoided Lena’s gaze as he got dressed.“Marty, you look like you need a drink or something. Ha!” Matthew had a boisterous laugh.“I’m good. I’m trying to stay dry.”“Oh, I heard. I hear everything… How’s the money?”Martin perked up. “Oh! Umm, good. No complaints. I had to quit that one place, but I’m doing alright.”“Good. Look, I want you to meet someone. Don’t go nowhere.” Matthew went into a back room and shut the door. The apartment was full of wrapped packages ready for shipping. There was a black leather couch, a glass desk where Matthew sat and a chair on the other side for Martin, but not much else. These sparse furnishings spread across what should have been a dining room but was instead a chaotic nest, filled with mountains of bubble wrap and partially opened products. It looked more like a warehouse than a home. “This is Alonzo. You’ll be working with him on a couple jobs.”Alonzo was another young man around the same age as Matthew and Manny. There were few if any men Martin’s age in these operations. His heart pumped with a somber thought: perhaps men in this career didn’t live long enough to grow middle aged. “You got someplace to be today?” Alonzo asked.“No, no, I’m free.”“Good, cuz we’re going out.” Get full access to The FLARE at theflare.substack.com/subscribe

You’re in… The Listening Room, a podcast series by The FLARE Substack. I’m Chevanne, the voice behind both.This next presentation is of my first proper short story, written over three days with no outline and no plan. It was the first time I knew writing could be so thrilling and stressful. There was a small bowl of gummi bears and aperitif glass of vermouth to spur me on.In “No Way Home”, we meet Martin LaSalle, who takes a journey into depths which he may not be able to escape.The FLARE is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.1.Streams of sweat coursed down his neck. The trailer was dark as Martin crouched next to a broken window to see who had approached. Alonzo groaned in the next room. He’d received the beating of his life and was still down. Men exited their cars with guns on their hips and assault rifles strapped across their chests. The trailer was silent as both sides stood still, listening. From an unseen corner, a bullet pierced the trailer and startled Martin. He fell back, knocking over a kettle on the stove. He desperately grasped at it, muffling the sound as it clanged against the floor. Martin cursed under his breath, clamped his eyes shut, and waited. Martin sat alone at the kitchen table staring into his tea. The amber water pulsed with the beat of an upstairs disturbance. They’re so f*****g loud, he thought, it’s 6:30 in the morning. He finished his tea and rose quickly to grab his bag and head out. The train ride was brief, at least to him. One transfer and he was at campus. The six-story building used to be owned by Queens County but was sold for pennies on the dollar to charter schools. Since the city refused to negotiate with teachers or stop making children fight for resources decided by test scores, they farmed out the job of public education to private companies. Sure, the new schools looked good on paper, but the owners were not educators. Lesson plans weren’t much more than  flashy brochures in the mailbox promising quality education to parents with little other choice.  Taking two steps at a time up to the main office, he was early as usual. He waved to the secretary and retrieved his mail. Circular, discount offer, letter from the union… letter from the union! Martin tore open the envelope and unfolded a single piece of paper to disappointingly skim a series of platitudes.“We regret to inform you that your current employment as a charter school instructor makes you ineligible for union protections under our bylaws. We wish you the best in your future endeavors.”“F**k,” Martin said with a sigh.  He crumbled up the letter and tossed it in the nearest bin. “Hey Mr. LaSalle!” shouted a chipper student on their way to class.Martin threw the kid a pained smile and kept walking. When he got to his empty classroom, he closed the door and sighed deeply before slumping down into his stiff office chair.  “There has got to be something better than this.”“Okay, kids. Let’s go through this again. When you are conjugating the verb, you must pay attention to the object of the action. Rashad! Now I know you’re not sleeping right now.”The boy’s head shot up and he quickly scanned the textbook on his desk. He rubbed the crust off the corners of his mouth with the back of his hand and looked at Martin with glossy eyes. “I’m good. Sorry.”“Homie, pull yourself together,” a boy at the back of the class said. Laughter rose through the class.“Don’t worry about him, worry about yourself,” Cariann said. Rashad looked over at her and nodded gratefully. A few gleeful and surprised cheers erupted. “Alright, settle down. Let’s look at the example on page 47.” Martin looked in Rashad’s direction to make sure he was following the lesson before continuing. “Julissa, please read the first paragraph.”Over the years, he had gotten good at his job. There was a flow and ease to his teaching that made him well liked. Martin was easygoing and knew a battle of wills wouldn’t work with these kids, who’d rather fight back and risk suspension than allow themselves to be reprimanded in front of their peers. Sometimes compliance took a bit of coaxing.After class was dismissed, Rashad stayed behind. “You know I don’t do you like that, Mr. LaSalle, I just been working late.”“I know. It’s hard. But this is important too. Go to the nurse’s office. Sleep it off there. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow sometime.”“I will. I’ll see you at the Spirit Week assembly Friday, though. Can’t miss it.”“That’s good, Rashad, I’m glad.” He dismissed the boy and found himself alone once more and exhausted in his cramped classroom. The dream was all but dead. His job required him to play so many roles. Babysitter, counselor, peacemaker, role model… imagine one person sliced into so many parts.  How could anyone shoulder the weight of so much responsibility?Martin had a free period next. He was lucky to have one right at lunch time. Then again, he was lucky to be there at all. His old public school had cut foreign language classes so he was laid off three years ago. He’d briefly weighed other options before striking out and finding a job at Baylor Charter School. He often felt guilty for being so critical. His old work buddies had not been as lucky. One moved to Georgia and got a job in a packaging factory. One had eased himself into a bottle of liquor and never managed to climb back out. Another suffered a string of financial issues before losing contact with everyone in their social circle.It was more than the bureaucracy; it was the loss of purpose that drove each man in a separate direction. Rediscovering that commitment to purpose with a chance at Baylor got Martin clean-shaven and on the mend. It had kept him from his own lows. Martin was determined to be more grateful. Then he opened up his backpack and took out his sandwich and fruit.“Heeeey Mr. LaSalle…!” Cariann called out from down the hall. The stretch of hallway had no doorways, so Martin could not duck out of her way. Cariann took far too familiar a tone with him. She made him uneasy. “I got a question,” she said, gum popping in her mouth. “Miss Lail, I do not have office hours today. You can see me before class tomorrow,” Martin said. He didn’t break his stride and turned toward the exit when she called out again.“I know someone who could hook you up, make you some money.” He paused at the door and cocked his head around, shocked she’d make such a proposal. Cariann came slowly down the stairs. “My cousin does some side work. Pays more than what you makin’, for sure.” She smiled widely, almost daring him to respond. Martin turned toward the door and pushed it open.“How was it today, babe?” Lena said.“Fine, fine. Same ole,” Martin said.“Well, I have news!” She wrapped her arms around Martin’s neck and kissed him sweetly. “I have a meeting with my publisher tomorrow. I think they’ll take my children’s book!”“Nice. Proud of you, babe,” Martin said with little emotion.“Thanks hun! Nothings certain yet though.” Then she cocked her head to the side. “What’s up? Something on your mind?”“Caught Rashad sleeping in class again. Says he was working late.”“Wow, a boy that young is already hustlin’?”“I just want to see him do well and I think he can. He just gets pulled in a lot of directions. It’s hard for him to stay focused.” Martin took off his jacket and settled in at the table.Lena slid into the chair across from him. “You’re not there to rescue them, you know. Do your best, but you don’t get extra for that. It's still a job.”Martin reached out and grabbed a nickel from the odds and ends bowl on the table. He played with the coin silently, deep in thought. He spun it and watched the gray blur go round and round, before slamming his palm onto it.“Any word from the union yet? It’s been like a month already,” Lena asked. Martin sighed. “Yup! They won’t represent me. So this next cycle, I have to renegotiate a contract on my own. They can offer whatever they want and ask me to take it or leave it.”“Damn,” Lena said. “I think we expected this, though. We had to try.” Martin gave her a disheartened look and half smile.Lena stood up to get the dinner plates. “You really have to rock that negotiation, then. We can’t afford for you to make less. I’m not trying to grow old in this apartment.”“I’ll make it work. Don’t worry.”Just as Martin was setting up for his first period class, Cariann swooped in. “Morniiiiing,” she said. “Miss Lail, how can I help you?”“Remember my cousin I told you about? He wants to talk to you. I said you were a good guy everybody liked. You would be a good fit.”“I appreciate you thinking about me, Miss Lail, but I’m satisfied with the job I have.”“Really? I got friends in your neighborhood. You don’t look like you’re about that life,” Cariann said. She chuckled as she sat down on the corner of his desk. “Miss Lail, please stand up. No sitting on my desk, you know that.”She held up her hands in surrender and drifted toward an empty desk in the front row. “It pays, Mr. LaSalle. A lot. You can’t work like this forever.” Her eyes stayed fixed on his for a long moment. Another dare. “Take your seat, Miss Lail.”More students streamed in as the day began. Rashad’s seat remained empty.Friday came and the cheer squad performed to riotous applause, as well as the other school clubs marching out with their banners. Spirit Week had ended on a high with every student abuzz, no matter how jaded they’d entered the auditorium. Martin stayed behind to pack up chairs when Rashad approached. “Hey, Mr. LaSalle!”“Hey Rashad, how you feelin’?” They shook hands.“Good, good. Appreciate you helpin’ me out the otha’ day. I needed that nap!”Martin smiled and continued packing up the chairs. Rashad put down his bag and began helping.“Rashad,” Martin said. He paused, weighing if it was even appropriate to ask, but he was curious. “What do you know about Cariann Lail and her family?”He exhaled loudly and raised his brows. “Her dad left when she was real young. He was a finance type. White dude with a big condo. Me and my auntie get assigned to clean some of those high rises downtown. I met him when he was working late and we talked a bit. Nice guy. Told me to look out for Cariann. I know her cousins from the neighborhood and her grandma is like everybody’s grandma, with the peppermint candy and everything,” Rashad chuckled, then his face dropped slightly as he considered his next words. They were standing still, face to face now in  the silent auditorium. “Like… her mom is cool and whatever, but extra cash is coming from some place. Her dad is paying child support and a little extra, but it don’t add up. You get me?”“What do you mean?”“I’m young, but I know work. I earn and that s**t is not—sorry.”“It’s fine, Rashad. Go ahead.”The boy nodded sharply. “It’s not easy. People ask why I go so hard and I’m like, ‘Rent is due on the first.’ It’s a lot of responsibility I take on because I have to. No choice.” Rashad was almost whispering now. “But Cariann, she got family mixed up in all kinda s**t. S**t that will get you laid out.”Martin nodded. “You better not get too close, then.”“I don’t know,” Rashad said, shaking his head. “Sometimes I think…”“Think what?”“That I’m mad young to even worry about bills. Can’t even get new shoes. I’ve definitely thought about hitting up Cariann’s cousin for some easy work. Just for a little while, to get out a tight spot…” Rashad trailed off, leaving his unasked question hanging in the air between them. “C’mon now… don’t get mixed up in something you can’t get out of.”Rashad was solemn. “Mr. LaSalle, you ever had to deal with money issues? No food in the fridge? Lights cut off?” He folded a chair and stood it next to the rest. “I’m a big dude, smart too, maybe I can do something else besides cleaning offices.”“You can go to college.”“I look like the college type?” Rashad said, rolling his eyes. “Cariann’s dad is making easy money. Uptown is the other half. They got their ways too.”Martin stiffened as he thought about his own money troubles looming. Then he quieted himself. Sometimes there’s little choice but doing what needs to be done for survival. No one could blame the boy.Martin sat in too small a wooden chair, bouncing his leg up and down, waiting to be called into the principal’s office. They had been in negotiations for two weeks and he was having trouble concentrating. He was less focused lately and by the time this meeting was called, he’d begun to put movies on for the class in lieu of lecturing. He checked his watch again: ten minutes after the hour.Then the secretary finally waved him in. Inside the office was the principal, county administrator, and the secretary to take notes. The company lawyer was on speakerphone. “Hi Martin. Have a seat,” Mr. Druthers said. He motioned to the seat across from his desk. “So, we looked over the numbers and your contract proposal. We reviewed it with the administrator and lawyer, James, who’s on the line. Unfortunately, we’re not able to  meet the number in your proposal. You’ve been here for a year and…”Martin felt like he had fallen into a pool of water. The hard smack of broken surface tension gave way to muffled sounds and disorientation. He was floating, unable to see his feet in front him. “Martin?” All eyes were on him.“Yes,” he replied with a jolt.“Did you get that number? That’s going to be our final offer,” Mr. Druthers said.The administrator handed over the redlined contract and Martin quickly flipped to the page with his salary number: $39,000 per year. He was floored. They waited expectantly as he read the number over and over. He was worth tens of thousands more at the very least. He was being played for a fool. Cost cutting to pay tenured teachers and administrators was nothing new, but this was low. A wage this low meant most could not stick around to get tenured. “Let me discuss this with my wife,” Martin said. His eyes were vacant. He left without acknowledging anyone in the room and the door closed behind him.Martin stopped in his classroom to gather his things. He hurriedly scooped up all the precious trinkets from students, his photos, and supplies, throwing them into an empty box. He opened a drawer to find a handwritten note he hadn’t seen before. He paused. It was a phone number with the name “Manny” at the bottom. He then recognized the bubbly lettering as Cariann’s youthful scrawl. Shoving the note in his back pocket, he headed down a back stairwell to avoid the main office. The gentle rock of the train did little to soothe him. He pounded up the stairs to his apartment, where Lena was waiting. He unlocked the door and flung it open.“Martin! The hell is wrong with you?!”“Lena, we had our meeting today. Do you know what the f**k they offered me?? A rookie salary with the benefit of being employed. Not much else.”Lena groaned and rested her hands atop her head.“They knew! They knew when the public schools offloaded all those teachers, they’d need a place to go. The lucky ones got in early and secured tenure. Fools like me, who waited, are getting a carrot and a stick.” He threw his contract on the table.“I am worth more than this!” He was pressing his index finger on the crumpled pages. He slumped into the couch and put his head in his hands. Then he started to cry bitter tears. Lena let him sulk, but not for long. “We have to do something.”“F**k, Lena, like what?” he shouted.She cut her eyes in his direction. “This is bad news, for sure, but now we need a plan.”“Are you for real right now?!” Martin stood up from his chair.Lena did not flinch. “It’s not just about you. I’m your wife. This affects me too.” She moved closer even as Martin glared at her. “I’m busting my ass to make what I do. You have to look into other work.”Martin scoffed and turned away, pacing in the living room. “What then? Any suggestions?” “Don’t talk to me like that. When I told you to take the buyout and get another position upstate you wanted to fight the good fight. Then they laid your ass off with no recourse. Shoulda listened back then but you have this need to go toe to toe in games you don’t understand.”Martin’s mouth was agape.“You stayed on principle. What did that really do for us?” Lena said, shrugging. “Maybe take a risk for once. Maybe get something that isn’t so glamorous but that pays. We need the money.”They stood facing each other for a long time in a silent battle. Martin broke his stare and trudged to the bedroom, slamming the door shut. Get full access to The FLARE at theflare.substack.com/subscribe

Transcript:You’re in… The Listening Room, a podcast series by The FLARE Substack. I’m Chevanne, the voice behind both.This next piece was difficult to write. I kept turning it over in my head, avoiding it, and revising it. That’s mostly because it’s a frightening true story, one about you and me and what could happen to you or to me. Only one small thing could make a big difference. Thanks for joining me to hear this special presentation entitled: A Pound of Flesh.[instrumental opening]Good evening and welcome to a KMC News, I’m Jon Velez. Tonight we speak with a woman whose story is at the center of a political firestorm.Shayla Simmons reports.[birds chirping and traffic noise]In the commuter town of Andover, New Jersey, there are neatly manicured shrubs and quiet streets. The local farmer’s market doubles as a social hub on Sundays, but so does the art museum and downtown coffee shops. It’s a place where everyone knows everyone.Teresa Silber has lived here for 10 years and is a mother to Cara, 9 and Sam, 7. She is a social worker by day and a prolific short story writer by night, nearly done with her first full length novel three years in development. It’s a sci fi thriller with the type of heroes she thinks her children need and the type of conflict she’s seen in her profession.“I’ve always been a writer. But when I started publishing these short stories online, there weren’t a lot of opportunities to break into the business, so I tried something else.”“What’s your favorite time to write?”“Nights! I have no choice!”Teresa lives in a building near downtown with a doorman, 24-hour gym on site, and a meeting space, luxuries for this area.“It’s nice! We definitely have what we need here.”Teresa and her husband Philip moved here from a nearby county after visiting and falling in love with Andover. Before long, she was pregnant. Two years after Cara, Sam was born. They would take the children on hayrides in the fall, sledding in the winter. Summer took the Silbers to their favorite Jersey shore towns.“We were very happy.”“Take us back to that night.”[Teresa sighs]Teresa had gone to put reusable grocery bags and glass jars in the car for shopping at the farmer’s market the next day. Nothing would prepare her for what happened next.[elevator bell dings]“When I came up the elevator, I saw my neighbor in the doorway with her arm extended like this, pointed in. Then there was this bang [gunshot] and I was caught off guard by how loud it was. And I admit I was a little confused, like ‘What the hell is that?’. Then she turned and saw me. We kind of locked eyes for a second. Umm, then she took off down the hall toward her apartment and I started running to see who she shot. My mind was racing in those few moments.”Her husband, Philip, had been shot through his upper chest, near his clavicle bone. The bullet nicked a major artery that began to bleed out quickly. Philip was only conscious for another minute.[sniffling]“He told me ‘I love you. And I love what we’ve made together.’ He did get to say anything more than that. We all just held hands.”Their children, 8 and 6 at the time, had been feet away when their father was shot.“They heard everything. They saw everything. I just… that’s the part that really really hurts.”The conflict had started only a short time before the murder, when the neighbor, Taye Reynolds, knocked on the Silber Family’s door complaining of noise. When she was dismissed by Philip, it quickly escalated.“She started having her dog pee on our door and would ring the doorbell late at night. Petty, juvenile things.”Days later, Philip and Taye bumped into each other in the lobby and got into a heated argument. Philip issued a complaint with the rental office.“She was vile. Just cursing up a storm, saying we were keeping her up, that her dog was getting agitated. I’m like, ‘Lady, my kids are in bed by 8. There’s no way they’re keeping you up.’ She wasn’t convinced. My husband was shot that night.”Taye Reynolds was quickly arrested and saddled with a litany of charges, including manslaughter and child endangerment.  She’ll likely spend the rest of her life in jail.“I don’t want to take a life for a life. I want my husband back. My children need their father.”All this has put Teresa at the center of a heated countrywide debate about guns. And about the senseless violence that seems to follow.“No, I’m not going to fight for more gun control.”“Why?”“Why would I? You don’t really care about me or my children, however talented and beautiful there are.  Their father was a victim of gun violence and bled out in front of them and nothing with change. Except gun sales.”“How so?”“Someone watching this won’t want to be the victim, right? So they’ll buy a gun. [Teresa scoffs] My husband’s death netted a sale and that’s all that matters. He is a sacrifice to the altar of the NRA. And this is no Lady MacBeth complex where they imagine the blood is on their hands, there is blood on their hands. But they will wash it off every night and light a candle for the dead for the benefit of optics to make us think they’re sorry. They’re not f*****g [bleep] sorry.”“If you could say anything directly to the NRA, what would it be?”“There is nothing I can say that hasn’t been said. There is no child’s death, no voice of anguish that’s moved them. I’d be wasting time I could be spending comforting my children, telling them how much their father loved them and believed in them. I could use my words to tell a new story where my husband is the hero. I’m doing that now.”“Some would say he is a hero. He protected his children.”“He’s not. He’s just another pound of flesh for the price of freedom.”In the wake of Philip’s death, Teresa tried to pick up the pieces of her now shattered life, but something still troubled her. Taye insisted the Silber children kept her up at night. So Teresa started staying up at night too and listening. Then she heard it.“The neighbor abutting her apartment had a set of twins who’d just learned to climb and run. Their room shared a wall with Taye’s office and the kids were up some nights playing. That’s probably what she heard. But when Philip told her off, it ended up just being revenge. She settled the argument and destroyed our lives with a bullet.”The debate continues on whether to enact more stringent gun control law or preserve second amendment rights. As of this broadcast, Senate Bill AAA 20, or the Arms Accountability Act, has stalled in the House of Representatives.We’ll be right back.[upbeat instrumental plays]This episode was written and directed by me, Chevanne. Sound effects from freesound.org. Audio assistance and support by Christopher Scordinsky. Original musical compositions by me.I’ll introduce the next reading on a future episode. Hope to see you there. What’s next?* Behind the scenes* Subscriber post on letting go* A serial reading of a short story perhaps?Notes • Medium • X • Instagram • Threads • PayPal • Ko-fi Get full access to The FLARE at theflare.substack.com/subscribe

Welcome back for the final episode of the serial sci-fi mystery “Ithaka”. We ended chapter 6 with a narrow escape and the help of friends near and light years away just as a battle has begun.The FLARE is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.7.The cave shook with tremors from below and blasts from rocket fire above. Laurence and Kane handed out weapons and led others deep into caverns to hide. Uncertain yet determined, they reassured those in their care and got into position.Earth skyhawks rose from behind Myer Hill in time to meet Solarian warships approaching against the backdrop of gray black smokestacks of a burning Ithaka. Captain Lorey sat at the head of the formation.“Team, we don’t know this enemy, but we know who we are. High alert. Weapons ready.”They floated farther apart and drifted upward to form a shield. A skyhawk at an upper corner dove down to give chase, running down a Solarian ship with heavy fire as it maneuvered through deserted hills and valleys. The skyhawk was right on the warship’s tail and on a straight away, continued firing. The warship quickly banked left to avoid a blast, then righted itself and made a sharp turn right, firing on the ships behind the leading skyhawk. The warship hit a trailing skyhawk wing which caught ablaze.The fight took to higher altitudes where a cat and mouse chase through the clouds left a Solarian warship tumbling to the ground. The sound of the crash thundered through the hills, followed up by intensifying fire exchanges. A warship knocked against one of the skyhawks, sending it careening into the side of a hill and shattering like glass. Before long, two more warships appeared, one of them inflicting critical damage onto a skyhawk. Then a new player arrived.Vox fireflies approached with increasing speed and locked their weapons on the warships. They charged forward and split off, firing onto the Solarian fleet mercilessly and nimbly dodging their rain of fire. Suddenly a force pulled a warship into the clouds and bright lightening bolts struck a firefly. Skyhawks quickly retreated while Solarian ships were torn apart by the sudden atmosphere changes.Firefly wings bent but glided through powerful gusts and fired on the last vulnerable warships before landing.Soldiers snuck up to the mouth of the cave, scanning its lip with pointed weapons before the lead signaled for two to enter. They stepped noiselessly and carefully into a wide vestibule, which narrowed into a corridor. More of the team inched into the vestibule, then slowly forward into the corridor.A blast from above blew sparks of blue and yellow, raining large rocks onto the soldiers in the vestibule. Amidst screamed commands and regrouping, they shifted around the obstacles and pressed forward.Trembling citizens clutched makeshift weapons from their hiding places. The stronger among them stood behind while the bravest readied for the first strike. The soldiers moved deftly through the corridor to a clearing and the breaths of all who were waiting fanned in and out in the dank cave. The tension tightened like rope as they waited longer still.The first of the Minoans leapt suddenly from their hiding places, clubbing one soldier and stabbing another. Shots whizzed around the cave hitting citizens and chipping at the cave walls. Clouds of shattered rock obscured the battlefield and more people emerged to fight off the soldiers. They retreated further into the darkened caves, fanning out around a patch of ground littered with pressured explosives. The first few slid into the trap and echos of panicked screams followed the carnage.The few soldiers left inched back and were met with force behind them. More causalities on both sides followed and soon the clank of dropping metal against the floor signaled the battle’s end with weary Minoans the unlikely victors.Groups huddled together awaiting more gunfire after the penetrating silence. Nothing came. Captain Lorey stepped into the mouth of the cave looking battered and delivered the news that seven Solarian warships had been destroyed with no others detected on the horizon.“I can’t say it’s over. They may have more ships, more weapons. This may be just the first battle of many. I’m going to radio back to Earth and they’ll send more ships to guard Minos. Vox has already agreed to cooperate with us to expose Icon.”Anaella let out a long sigh and leaned against Kane. “What do we do now?”“There’s lots to do. We’ll show you where to start.”The sloped face of a grassy knoll was dotted with purple wildflowers and licked with sunlight. Anaella and Lorey stood over the headstone of Cyrus and a plaque honoring Tory, who had disappeared after the Helios expedition. Anaella crumpled dried flowers from her family altar over the site.“He’ll always face the sunrise. And Tory, wherever they are, can join him.”“It’s a fitting remembrance,” Lorey said.“Did you know them? Personally?”“I knew Cyrus and learned a lot about Tory. They were Louis Allen Marshall and Jessa Willow. Good people. I trained Lou myself. His ancestor piloted—““The Hermes.”He glanced over in a measure of surprise mixed with interest. “That’s right. He was determined to come out here and signed up for 10 years of deep cover after intense training. Jessa was born on Helios and recruited by Lou. The two of them did what no one else has been able to do.”“We’re grateful to them.”“You did good here. I admire how well you handled the whole thing. Couldn’t have been easy.”“I-I just do what needs doing, that’s all.”“This is usually the part where I’d recruit you, but somehow I don’t think you’d trade Ithaka for Earth.”“Not a chance,” she smiled. “This was a lot, but there’s plenty to do to build back what we lost, better still. Our folks need to heal and I want to be here for it. Remember it, record it, learn from it.”The Captain lowered his head and nodded.“Listen, we’re trading com equipment and some other technology with Laurence and Kane to help you in the future. If you need us, call, otherwise, we’ll be quiet neighbors.”“Thank you, Captain.”He made his way up over the hill and out of sight.Anaella lingered and let a rising and warming sun wash over her. The moons had begun their divergent paths and the worst was behind the planet. She stared out onto the tall, beating grass where her adventure first began and headed over to see what was still sprouting.The once muddy clearing was almost entirely filled with a low bush of bright green, delicate leaves. She plucked a leaf and laid it in her palm, wondering what secrets were left to discover in the veins of this precocious plant and on the barren planet it came from.The advisory committee weighed the implications of celestial body colonization considering the current space-faring international law.“What do you think, Dana?”Senator Crowley bristled. “I don’t think we should have private companies holding the keys to our survival.”“Look around, Dana,” Senator Leland growled between his teeth. “We’ve failed them all. Our space program is practically a one room schoolhouse. The economy is tanked with a 25% unemployment rate! I’d hate to admit it, but I agree with Headley. We have to do something.”“This is not it, Jim. We can’t do this. If we give up our power now, we’ll never get it back. They’ll be holding this over us for generations.”“Think, Dana! They have ships ready to go right now. If we back them, in maybe 30 years, who knows? Maybe we’ll have new technology. What do you think? Green house effect reversal?”“It’s not about that. I’m sure they will find something. But I’d almost rather die here than have a boot on my neck.”“You don’t have a right to make that decision for the country. S**t, for the world. If this works, you’ll be the one who’ll go down in history as a decisive leader, not the coward who stood by—““Watch it. I know you’re not a stranger to taking money for positive outcomes—““F**k off. This is not a goddamn campaign. We’re talking American lives. Do better.”Crowley hung his head low and rubbed his forehead. The days stretched out endlessly with deliberations as outcry reached a fever pitch. The push and pull of dissent and agreement wore them all down, but so did the prospect of failure and ruin.“Are we really going to ask them to save us?” Crowley asked.“Do we have a choice?”Thank you so much for joining me for this series! It was a leap to publish an unfinished serial of my longest composition ever (over 14,000 words) and record accompanying audio. The worlds you’ve seen from me thus far have been in a single room or on a street corner. “Ithaka” has been a playground that spans miles, planets, and time. I’m very proud of it and I hope you enjoyed the story. I’ll certainly be expanding it someday.The FLARE will be back in two weeks with a Q&A, holiday subscription offer, and some reflections on this year. You can email [email protected] to get your questions answered on this story, other topics, or about me. You can also come to the thread and drop a line.As a reader of The Sample, I get interesting newsletters delivered daily. From finance to parenting, it has everything.Medium • Twitter • Instagram • PayPal • Ko-fi Get full access to The FLARE at theflare.substack.com/subscribe

Welcome to the Listening Room for a reading of “Ithaka”In chapter 5, we found out the mystery man’s identity and things we getting tense between Anaella and Minos. In this chapter, the penultimate of the series, much more is revealed. The FLARE is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.6.Anaella fidgeted nervously in an armchair in Kane’s living room. It was getting harder to be at home under Minos’s sharp eyes.“Let’s take a look at this,” Kane said as he sauntered over with a cup of steaming tea in one hand and a file folder in the other.She leaned up and grasped the warm cup, inhaling a blend of sweet spices. Kane sat across from her and placed the file they collected in the Helios mine on the coffee table between them. He opened onto a small clipped photo of Cyrus, the man in the field. His vital statistics filled the first page, but there was also family, medical, and work history, everything they could never have know without Tory’s help.“Do you mind if I stay here a couple days?”“Of course. Get your things and come back.”She sunk into the cushions and looked on as Kane flipped through the pages of the file.“Wait, what is that?” Anaella asked, her eyes catching something at the back of a page.“S**t. It’s blood.”His finger hovered over the spot which had imprint on the front of the next page.“It says ‘plant seeds’. What does it mean? Who did that?”“Maybe Tory. I don’t know how I missed it.”“Maybe you didn’t.”Anaella leaned over and brushed her finger against the maroon strokes.“It looks old. Want to bet it’s from Cyrus?” she said with a creeping grin.“That’s not all, Nae. Look at his date of death. He hadn’t been dead long when we found him, but this is dated two weeks before that. He knew he was going to die.”She opened the door to find Minos sitting on the spine of the couch and staring in her direction. He held her heavy all terrain boots in his hands.“Anaellaaaa…” he teased. “You’ve been busy. We should talk. Really talk. We don’t have much time.”“Why?”“You’ve told me so much about community and family. I’m doing what’s in my destiny to do. I hope you’ll understand.”“I don’t know what you mean.”“You’re a bad liar. I knew when you came back the other day. That red dust was on your boots,” he said holding them up.She swallowed hard and clenched her jaw.“Let me fill in some things not even you know. The central dome’s construction was completed on Helios right before The Fall. Your people rebelled at the right time. You would have never known this planet if they hadn’t.“We could have wiped out the population of Minos after The Fall. We didn’t. Instead, we spent all this time, well over a century, extracting ore in the mines. We let you have your world. It didn’t matter. You can destroy a world in a night. And with the weapons we’re building, we could level 2000 square miles just like that. Then we’d scatter soil from Helios that would grow plants like wildfire and start over.“All this time we’ve been watching. Learning. And we were content to let you be until Cyrus. He’d organized an entire network of people, first for smuggling from Waystation, then negotiating with Vox. A ship was set to attack the mine and extract him. They’d get intel on just about anything including ships and weapons. Earth would find out and we’d be sunk. So we let them come, they attacked the mine, but Cyrus was off the planet before Vox got there. We destroyed their ships and they got no information. They didn’t even get a body.“What’s Vox?” Anaella said trembling.“The planet that Earth believes we’re developing. There’s only a small habitable area so far which helps us prolong the project. Ultimately, we’ll recolonize Earth as Icon. We will have saved the jewel of the galaxy, created a paradise right here in Ithaka, and developed powerful technology to help us travel farther than anyone has ever gone.”Minos broke into boisterous laughter, throwing his head back and wiping his eyes.“Oh man. I dumped Cyrus myself. You didn’t even notice that my hair still had flecks of dirt in it or that I smelled like fuel from stealing that hover truck. Investigating but not always observing, I see.”Anaella’s chest was heaving and her face was drawn tight with agitation. “You’re a monster. And soon everyone will know it.”She stormed to her room and stuffed clothes and supplies into her overnight bag. On the way out, she took family photos from the altar, grabbed her coat, and marched to the front door.“I wouldn’t go out that way.”Anaella turned to Minos with an ashen, horrified expression.“My men will be here soon. I’d take my window to the roof, then head to the back of the building. There’s a door that leads off the roof to a maintenance connecting bridge to the next building. Better hurry.” “Why are you letting me go?”“I like you. And if you don’t leave now, you’ll be dead,” he said coldly.He tilted his head and smiled, chucking softly as she clamored through the window.She reached the connected bridge and slipped through a propped open door just as she heard the chatter of gruff voices and the pounding of boots on the street below. She scurried through the halls of the building narrowing avoiding angered residents. She pulled out her phone to call Kane.“Come get me,” she said out of breath and frantic.“Be there in five minutes.”She ducked into a hallway broom closet a few floors from the lobby and locked the door, waiting in the dark. Soon her phone buzzed and she bolted down to the back door where Kane was waiting.“There’s guys crawling all over. We can’t stay here. Stay down,” Kane said.They cruised out of the city with Anaella tucked on the floor of the back seat, just as checkpoints sprung up. The swarm of soldiers and confused citizens shrunk in Kane’s rear view mirror.They drove for miles on smooth pavement, then rough and bouncy terrain, then what felt like crumbled roads that came together. They finally parked and she could hear the sound of an impossibly large door shut and lock.“We’re here.”Anaella climbed out of the car and stepped into the large open space of the Kinney Compost Center.She smiled with relief. “Why here?”“Me and Laurence stayed in touch. He’s been teaching me a few things.”Laurence emerged and strolled over with a hand already outstretched to vigorously shake Kane’s.“Let’s let Nae know what we’ve been doing.”“Okay, let me show you. So Kane here was asking me about what we do with all this compost, about the systems we use and whatnot. Once y’all got back from Helios, he phoned to ask about explosives.”Laurence slid open a storage door to reveal a menagerie of crude weapons and stacks of cylindrical metal cartridges.“What are these?”“Ammunition or the closest we can get. We have no gunpowder so we have to use fertilizer, some acids courtesy of your friend Felix, and a few other secret ingredients. We even got a little help from Old Man Jan on Norwood.”Anaella’s lip trembled as she scanned the room to see honed swords from scrap metal.“If they come, we can be ready.”Laurence led them to a closed off part of the building to a small room with two beds and a desk.“It’s not much, but you can stay here. It’s well protected and you have a clear line through that door out into the trees if you need to leave in a hurry.”The two men stood just outside the bedroom door in animated conversation. Anaella leaned back in the made bed and was soon fast asleep.Her shoes were at the door and her sweater folded on the desk. She’d been tucked under the covers. She followed the sound of an excited exchange to the main office area.“I don’t know if they’re monitoring communications. I have nothing to pick that up, see what I’m saying? So we’ll have to just send something that looks like junk.” Laurence’s voice boomed through the high ceilings.Anaella sleepily dragged over to the desk where the men were already sitting. Kane gave her a quick hug and fixed his eyes on the computer screen. Code lapped down for pages.“We’re sending a message to Earth but we have to pad it with something,”Kane said.“We don’t want an outright distress signal, but a hidden one.”They glanced one to the other for ideas, silent as they scribbled on scrap paper and crossed things out. Anaella rolled her thumb ring around and sunk her head in thought. Her eyes suddenly lit up.“We’d like to send a big supply for the coming season: Some soil, usual amount, one cotton fabric bolt please, ten bags flour, take our fruits too. -Russ”“What the hell is that?” Kane chuckled.She pointed to every fourth word. “‘Send for some one please take… us.’” She underlined the middle of the name. “Anyone paying attention will quickly figure it out. But we need it buried with other signals. Tory gave me some relay codes to a planet called Vox. If we send it there, they can get to Earth.”“How the hell did you think that up?” Laurence asked.“Read it in a detective book,” she smirked.Just then, a low rumble shook the building and the lights flickered, slowly dying down, then springing to life. Kane looked up toward the ceiling and peered around the arched metal roof. It buzzed and rattled, then lay still.“The Alignment is coming.”Days passed with no movement. The eerie silence cut through the compost center as they waited for some signal or some attack. They had sent their message to Vox with no response. Somewhere they knew Minos, in command of a small armed group, was shoring up for a conflict.A concentric, blue-green distortion hung low in the sky, advancing in brightness, growing and growing until it looked like a cauldron of flame. Three battle ships sped through and came to abrupt stops, hovering down over the airfield just outside the compost center before landing.The rumble and air rush of landing ships beckoned to the three inside. They peered out to see soldiers in navy blue flight suits approaching.“Identify yourselves!” Laurence yelled.“We come from Earth!” the leader yelled.Laurence motioned for Anaella and Kane to step back as he kept the door ajar and hid an enormous wrench behind his back.“We got your supply order. We’re here to help. I’m Captain Lorey.”“How do I know you’re not with the enemy?”“We have an eye on Minos. He’s got men and weapons. We’re here to offer assistance to your citizens.”Laurence let the captain in while the others guarded the entrance outside.“I’m Laurence Kinney. I own this site. These are investigators Anaella Bahn and Kane McCullough.”Anaella stepped forward and shook hands with the captain. “I last saw Minos a few days ago. He’s planning to recolonize Earth but also to destroy our world with some kind of bomb. Do you know what’s happening here?”“We have some idea,” Captain Lorey said. “From the very first ships to travel to this part of the galaxy, there was evidence something strange had happened. A trailing ship, the Hermes, captured garbled audio from Poseidon that we always thought was caused by magnetic interference. Static. Turns out it was slew of scrambled messages.”“What did the messages say?” Anaella asked.“They told an operator they were landing and were heading to base. An engineer on the bridge had the foresight to scan the planet surface right before they fell back and uncovered the primary crater Icon planned to excavate from. It was already crawling with drones and rovers. She kept that video and handed it to her captain.”“And what happened to it?”“It was classified for 100 years. Government officials fought against release for another 50. By that time, Waystation was already built and Icon had spotted Vox. We were way behind. Once we decrypted the signals, we got the shock of our lives. They’d developed a planet on the Earth’s dime and shared virtually no resources. Add to that, we didn’t know what was happening on Helios. We knew about Vox, but not you.”“Have you always been able to come out here?”“Theoretically, yes, but practically, we weren’t sure it would work. Icon has been squeezing governments around the world, threatening to starve the people until their leaders complied. It’s largely worked, but we’re holding on by threads. We had to try. When we got your message, we knew it was time to blow open the curtain.““What are we going to do?”“Solarians, as we call the Helios captives, will likely be mobilized as soldiers to this planet to recolonize it. Now, we were able to get pretty deep into Helios. Our undercover team, code names Cyrus and Tory, got close but didn’t make it. Our operations have failed, thus far, but our agents provided what they could.”“I think there’s something else you should know, Captain. They’re mining a metal called zelium. It’s the strongest metal we know of. When it’s charged with electricity, it hovers.”“Do you have a sample? We’ll have someone on Waystation take a look. In the meantime, your people should take cover. Better to be underground if you can manage it.”Anaella and Kane looked at each other and smiled, mouthing the words in unison: “Plant seeds.”Along the horizon, what looked small as fleas glided along strands of golden sunlight at dawn. Soon they were much larger birds of prey. The low rubble shook homes and buildings, waking everyone inside. The citizens of Ithaka held still, all frozen in their gazes up to the sky. In a sudden blitz, warships split off, charging toward the ground and firing.Shells hit an apartment building at its midpoint and an exploding cloud of dust and fire rained down onto the streets below. Another ship hung low and fired upon crops, setting them ablaze.All was still quiet at Kinney when Captain Lorey got a report of an invasion in progress.“We’ve got to move out. Solarians have begun an attack in Ithaka. I suggest you stay here but if you want to join in, make sure you’re armed.”Laurence, Anaella, and Kane hopped into a hover truck with sheet metal swords and welded projectile launchers. They pushed off the ground with a steady force. They floated off toward Ithaka to rally survivors. A team of truck operators had been mobilized and joined the convoy.“She’s not quick, but she’ll get us there safely,” Laurence yelled over the engine.The town was a hell scape of smoke, fire, and rubble with people huddled in edifices which were only partially intact. A fleet of compost trucks came to shuttle citizens from Ithaka and parts of Community to Myer Hills, where they’d hide underground. Earth’s ships had done their part driving the Solarians out and providing cover for the rescue team. The Alignment had complicated matters, with more frequent tremors and weather anomalies that had grown worse.The evacuations took hours, but finally the burnt out city was silent and smoldering. Others found refuge elsewhere as word spread of the air strikes. Anaella walked along the familiar streets with crumbling towers of brick and stone. Herod, Tophi, and Janus formed a near eclipse of three crescents that shone bright against even the morning sky. No one was was left and she headed back on foot to meet the others.The cave opening was in sight, much to her relief when droplets scaled upward passed her face. A fierce weather system billowed in the sky and she could feel her body become momentarily weightless. She flailed and suddenly dropped onto the ground. Then she took to her heels and ran.Anaella ran against thrashing wild and raindrops pummeling her body. The cave was just up ahead. She could feel her feet lifting off the ground and she fought against the gripping air to get her balance and remain planted.“You can make it! C’mon!”The wind knocked her sideways against jagged rock and stabbing pain thundered through her arm and up the side of her neck. She lay for a moment disoriented and face up to a swirling sky. The sound of pounding atmosphere rose above the sound of commands being screamed near the cave’s opening.“Get up!”Kane’s voice cut though the wind and jolted her. The atmosphere was heavy now, building and building, crushing her labored steps under its weight before carrying her up in a flurry and hurling her down. Dizzy and gasping for breath, she vomited alongside the road. She was weakening now and the blurry, dancing images of waving hands were like fading spots of light.She gave one last herculean effort, throwing herself forward to meet air that carried her just a bit closer into someone’s arms before she blacked out.As a reader of The Sample, I get interesting newsletters delivered daily. From finance to parenting, it has everything.Medium • Twitter • Instagram • PayPal • Ko-fi Get full access to The FLARE at theflare.substack.com/subscribe

Welcome back to The Listening Room for a reading of “Ithaka”. In chapter 4, our investigators landed on the desolate planet of Helios. Anaella’s strange encounter with Minos lingers while the pair find a hidden colony and meet a stranger.The FLARE is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.5.Anaella, Kane, and Tory descended a series of platforms to the ground below. The tiny humps they saw from the crater edge were homes formed of the planet’s earth and water constructed into oblong dwellings with doors at each end. At the side of each pod was a small chute that emptied into a locked receptacle. Between them was a pipe with a biometric pad affixed above it.“Why does each apartment have its own bin?”“So they can search it.”“Who is ‘they’?”Tory pointed to an illuminated sign at the corner, perched atop a thick, sturdy spine of gray metal. Inside it’s border was a lowercase I with a sloped top and floating orb above it.“What is that?” Anaella asked.“Icon. They own everything.”Tory pulled a twisted piece of metal from their pocket and scurried beside a locked bin, their eyes darting in all directions. They slipped the metal into the lock and wiggled it from side to side, slowing advancing it in. With a final loud click, the door fell open and it’s contents fell onto the lid. Anaella sifted through crumbled food wrappers and cups.“We should be able to get DNA. We can at least find out if he has family here,” she whispered.“Do you have some water we could take with us?” Kane asked.Tory nodded. “Just don’t touch the scanner.”A solitary drop dangled from the spigot. Kane quickly pulled out a tube to catch it. Another drop swelled and fell in.“Quickly!”Kane lightly tapped the pipe and a few more drops labored in.“Let’s go!”They snuck back into the shadow of a nearby tool shed, though they’d seen no one except Tory the entire descent. They ducked through passageways and down the sides of eerily quiet streets as Tory led them to the outskirts of the village.Rising like an imposing sentinel at a far end was the glittering straw-colored wall of the quarry where they extracted the metal from stone.The group snuck through a service door and into an abandoned section of the mine with a walled off railway track. They sat on a ledge near a hanging, caged bulb. Tory removed their gloves and suit to reveal a lithe body draped in tattered shades of gray.“It’s called zelium. Comes out of the mine in sheets. The biggest deposits so far have already been removed. We’re doing finer work in some tunnels to the next major crater.”“Why are you helping us?” Kane asked.Tory chuckled and let their head fall to one side. They peered out of narrowed eyes.“I’ll be caught at some point for impersonating a guard. You came up on the sensors just as I was headed out there. I would have made my way out and caught a ship to your planet. At least that was the plan.”Tory’s dewy face glistened under the single bulb. They looked up at it in silence, then to Anaella and Kane.“I don’t know if you can put an end to this. It seems like humanity always ends up this way: one man’s life force feeds another’s children. And his sons feed the children’s children.”They all sat silent listening to the distant clang of machines.“We’re many here on Helios. I don’t even know how many. All kinds of people from anywhere you can imagine. We work day and night with just enough sleep. The routine keeps us focused on the routine.”“Was our man part of the routine?” Kane asked.“Yeah,” Tory said, with a fondness in their eyes.“Do you know why he died?”“No. Not really. I just know he was on the verge of something big.”“Come with us, at least. We’ll take you to Minos. People have to know what’s happening.”“No.”“No?!” Kane cried.“Just tell Earth what’s happening.”“Why Earth?”“Icon made a promise that they’d find a suitable planet since Earth was becoming uninhabitable. The US government poured billions in to pay for that innovation. Other countries followed. There’s a lot in between I don’t know. I was too young at the time to understand the stories the old folks were telling. I’ve lived my whole life out here. All I know is that as a show of good faith, they brought back some soil from the mines and it flourished on Earth. Did you see it?” Tory smiled.“We did. Around where the body lay.”“Well, that was enough to convince people to keep it going. Icon came out here and secretly colonized your planet—““It’s not a secret we’re here,” Anaella said.“You think so? You’re part of the lie.”“What is being built with this metal?” Kane asked sternly.“Warships. They’ll invade Earth under the banner of an alien invasion and the whole planet will surrender to the single company that saved them.”“How do you know all this?”“I learned it from the man who’s unclaimed body is on your planet. Let’s get you his name.”The pair were led through an underground labyrinth of tunnels and low lying passages until they reached a riveted metal door.In a few minutes, the lock was undone and Tory led them inside a room with aisles of file cabinets. Inside each alphabetized drawer were records of the many past and present residents of Helios.Tory scowled. “They can never help themselves. Psychos always keep trophies.”“If you need to hide something, put on a single piece of paper no one can find,” Kane mused.“Here,” Tory called. They lifted out a file.“Cyrus K. Miller. 37. My god,” Kane said breathlessly.“Says he died in a mine collapse. That’s not true. Why would they even bother fudging the record?”The crunch of gravel silenced them as it approached. They stared at each other and held motionless. The footsteps grew closer and louder, halting in front of the door. Just then, the echo of falling rocks boomed in the walls of the mine. The steps clopped away steadily until silence descended once more.Each stared from one to the other with knowing glances. It was time to go.Their chartered craft sputtered along to Minos. Kane fell into his seat and exhaled deeply.“Let’s get back to that roommate. The Headley. You said something about the library.”“It’s probably nothing.”“C’mon Nae,” Kane pressed.“He knows something. He told me the first time we met, but I was… distracted.”“What’d he say?”“He joked he was heir to all his family’s holdings. Are there any other families with as long a history as his?”“I don’t know of any. When you meet someone with that name, there’s no mistake.”“Yeah. And we thought they faded into obscurity. Now one of them shows up and is my roommate of all people. You think his family is connected with the mines?”Kane shrugged and shook his head. He held out his arm and she scooted in close to lay her head on his shoulder. She shuddered and tucked her legs beneath her.“We’ll be back in a few hours. Can you keep it together?”She vigorously nodded, wiping away welling tears and closing her eyes.Anaella came home to Minos’s closed bedroom door and a still apartment. She slipped off her boots and tiptoed down the hall to the bathroom. She glanced back to the living room and only heard the faint buzz of the kitchen bulb. She turned toward the bathroom and was met face to face. She screamed and leaped back.“You have to stop doing that!”“You look a little… windswept,” Minos said, squinting his eyes at her and closing the distance between them.She held up her hand to stop him. “I’m fine. It’s just… I had a long day,” she said, avoiding his gaze.His eyes were fixed on her boots as she quickly scurried to the bathroom.“I was thinking just salads tonight,” she yelled over rushing water.He threw open his bedroom door, sat on the bed, and folded his hands in his lap. He lingered in his room and did not answer. She finishing washing off her boots and left them to dry in the laundry room. She came upon Minos sitting with his lips pursed and his face chiseled in contemplation.“Hey.”His eyes brightened and he turned to her, smiling.“Did you hear me?”“I didn’t.”“Just wanted to plan for dinner.”“I’m not hungry right now, but I could go for a ride.”They stopped in front of an abandoned lot of old passenger and small crew ships. A long faded and creaking sign stood at a flimsy gated entrance. Beyond a patchy field was a shallow valley.“You wanted to come here?” Anaella asked.“Yeah, it’s a cool place. Lots of history. It’s right up your alley.”“I haven’t been out here since I was a kid. Someone got crushed by a falling piece of fuselage so we weren’t allowed to come out here. Besides, it’s a graveyard.”“No, it’s a garden,” Minos said with an air of reverence.They strolled along the valley of ships with models of all shapes and colors rising toward a bleak sky like hovering giants.One small craft, tucked behind a walled off area, more a crumbling ruin than partition, was not similarly coated with years of dust, but it’s cockpit windows were nearly glistening. The thrusters had long cooled but charred dust lined the outer rims.“This has been…flown.”“Looks like,” Minos said nonchalantly.Anaella stared at him, suddenly fearful and bewildered as she noticed a familiar logo on the upper corner of his shirt: a lowercase i. She fanned out her arms and teetered backward, frantically looking around. Her breath quickened as she tripped over a protruding portion of trash. Minos casually rounded the craft, letting his outstretched hand catch the contours of its hull. Anaella was still moving backward, unsteady and shaking with her vision fuzzing and tunneling, transitioning to snapshots of his cold stare before collapsing into a heap.Anaella jolted up from the couch, partially covered by a chenille blanket. Her head hurt.“You’re heavier than you look, you know.”“That’s not a compliment, in case you were wondering,” she shot back.“Whoa. Okay,” he said laughing.“What happened out there?”“Seemed like you fainted. I don’t know. Dehydration, stress, your burning desire for me…”“Hardly,” she scoffed. She leaned back onto her elbow, examining her hands for some clue.“Drink something.”“I’m fine,” she said, pushing the glass away. “I just need a shower, then I want to go to bed.”She stubbled toward the bathroom and sat on the floor just behind the door. She let her head rest against the smooth grain of the wood and could faintly perceive the controlled breathing of Minos on the other side.“What is your position at Icon Multimedia Corporation?” Senator Dana Crowley asked.“Founder and Chief Executive Officer.”“Mr. Headley, why do you want to colonize another planet? What’s the motive?”Charles paused before answering. His response would be critical to the initiative presented over the last two days. The world was watching. He knew this. And he made them wait.“Quite simply? Preservation. We have failed this planet and like any member of the animal kingdom, we are fighting for our survival. This new world may hold that promise.”The audience leaned forward in anticipation.“We have an opportunity to preserve humanity through a cooperative effort. This is not merely a mission of curiosity, but reconnaissance. I know everyone has been expecting this to be said, but we are boldly going...” Charles broke into a wide and wonder-filled smile with starry eyes as some in the crowd finished the line.“We’ve stood long enough in inaction. We need to strike.”“Strike where?” Crowley said.“Out there!” He gestured. “Beyond our solar system to another planet that will offer Earth a second chance. If we can be funded to go there and sustain ourselves, we will be sure to find treasures in this galaxy and the next that may revive this planet. We might yet be able to save Earth!”“What do you hope to find out there?”“New life, however small. Things we have never seen that are stronger or faster than anything we’ve seen before. We hope to find solutions to what ails this planet.”“I mean, some would say humans are what ails the planet.”The audience brimmed with amusement.“No, we are it’s keepers and have a responsibility to find an antidote.”“And you want to create a special initiative along with full government backing and use of resources to do so?”“Yes,” he said casually.“And what will we get in return?”A knowing and sinister smile crept over his face.As a reader of The Sample, I get interesting newsletters delivered daily. From finance to parenting, it has everything.Medium • Twitter • Instagram • PayPal • Ko-fi Get full access to The FLARE at theflare.substack.com/subscribe

Thank you for coming back to read (or listen to) the short story “Ithaka” in the Listening Room, presented by The FLARE Substack.In episode three, Anaella and Minos were getting closer, while new light was shed on the investigation. And in a flashback, we met a Headley ancestor. In this episode, we learn about the planet Helios.The FLARE is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.4.“If there are people living on Helios, then maybe it’s worth looking at how they got there,” Kane said. “I’m meeting Felix to look at the metal we found. Let me know what you find out on your end.”“The story is buried somewhere. I’ll find it.”Anaella poured over old volumes detailing the first voyage through the Gemini Belt nearly 500 years ago and subsequent crash on Helios to the first years on Minos. The USS Poseidon had spent nearly twenty years in space, trailed by the USS Hermes, before coming within 93 million miles of Helios. Reports from there detail a suspected asteroid storm that damaged critical ship systems. Poseidon went down with a crew of 300. Transmissions to earth came from Hermes, which was positioned within the Belt and relaying messages to Earth on carrier probes.It was never clear how close to the crash site Hermes came. Photographs and audio were shoddy, attributed to magnetic interference. The Hermes was ordered back to Earth but a rescue mission was not mounted. The public accepted the catastrophe as truth and voyages out to Helios were halted for half a century while aeronautic agencies shored up spacecraft designs and communication systems.Nearly a century after the crash, a ship landed in Waystation to build a colony. More unforgiving than even the most desolate Milky Way planet, the terraforming processes seemed hopeless until telescopes found a Goldilocks planet beyond Helios. Waystation developed as an enclosed community until enough supply came to begin the trek forward. It was from there that the first ships since Hermes passed through the Gemini Belt and landed on Minos.“Ship’s captain—“ Anaella murmured.“Henry Allan Marshall.”Anaella popped up from her chair and let out a yelp. Minos was standing behind her with a mischievous grin.“F**k sake. You could have just knocked instead of creeping around.”“Sorry. I wanted to see you. What are you looking for?”Anaella slipped her hand off her chest and exhaled sharply. “Stories about the first wreck on Helios.”“Sounds interesting.”“Look, I’m working right now. I can see you later.”Minos held up his hands in surrender and slowly backed up toward the doorway with a pasted smile. He looked out passed the private study room to the empty library front desk.“She didn’t crash. She landed,” he whispered.“What?”“The Poseidon.”She looked up at him with a rigid stare. “Okay. You have my attention. Landed where?”“Helios is more alive than you think, right down to the soil.”Anaella reclined in her seat with a grimace, cocking her head to one side, and scanning Minos from head to toe as he leaned in the doorway. “But, people who have gone there all say the same thing: It’s a dead planet.”“How much of the planet do we actually see? There’s the crash site and what else? I don’t think anyone here knows,” he teased.“No, I guess we never bothered to look. No reason to.”“Everyone’s very occupied here. You’re pretty comfortable and satisfied with life. No need to go searching for anything beyond what’s in front of you.”She turned her ring round and round, silently facing Minos. He cleared his throat and began telling her more about his time in Waystation. He wove a tapestry of a colony with two faces: one funded by Earth for scientific advancements for the betterment of all and the other side which he hinted was developing dangerous weaponry. There was a sinister cast on his face which quickly crumbled as Anaella’s phone rang. It was Kane.“I’ll see you at home later?” Minos said brightly after she hung up.“Not sure. I have a lot to do.”“Maybe I’ll wait up anyway.”Anaella trudged through Mr. Lane’s field once more, back to the dumping site. Her brows were knitted and her face hardened in thought. She’d felt a slither inch up her spine that needed to be shaken off.Kane stopped short of the clearing where they found the body. In the outline of a curled corpse were tiny green sprouts.“What the hell—-““There’s plant life in the soil. Our sample even started sprouting right out of its container. Look at this. We came out here six days ago.”Anaella crouched down and peered at the smooth, green leaves which rocked in the breeze, coated by tiny droplets.“Whatever is in that soil grows mighty fast. Let me show you something else.”Kane bent on one knee and waved a palm-sized magnet near the soil surface. He flipped it over to reveal tiny yellow-white shards.“They were everywhere.”She gazed curiously at the clump of shards which vibrated against the magnet.“It’s not iron, steel, or copper. It’s not even tungsten, which is the strongest metal know of. It’s stronger than tungsten.”Anaella rolled a thread of metal between her fingers. It was pliable.“Just for the hell of it, Felix and I charged them with electricity and they hovered on their own. If they are mining the strongest metal across two galaxies, then even Minos is about to change.”“How?”“Think about it. Soon there’s going to be ships coming from all over to buy this metal. We need to go to Helios. Tonight.”Angular and rusted pieces of metal poked out of swirling pits of red ash. It was itself a ruinous city of twisted hull and wire with sloped and curved awnings along narrow paths. Once backlit buttons were hollowed out with copper colored earth and empty chairs looked hollow without their occupants.The crash site spanned over a mile, from the initial impact crater to the bits of clothing blown then embedded in a far off rocky plateau. The bulk of the ship’s remains stood inside a clear, enclosed structure sturdy enough to walk on. Signs recalling details of construction, journey, and eventual end dotted the outside.  It was an unattended and morbid display, with even the excavated skeleton of a passenger laying lonely and exposed.Their helmet displays lit up and beeped, mapping the landscape and weather patterns. They trudged along the site toward a far end with a guard rail and warning sign to stay out.“Let’s head passed here,” Anaella said.They climbed over the barrier through clouds of dust and unsteady ground. It was just as everyone had described. Hiking along a desolate and harsh terrain bore omens of death from its barrenness. Time was a slow drawl.“How’s that roommate of yours?”“He’s okay. Sweet. Very cute. Ignorant.”“Your type, then?” Kane chuckled.“He’s always got a question about something. It’s draining. Though something weird happened.”“What?”“He was telling me this stuff about the Helios crash, stuff that sounds like conspiracy theory b******t.”“Okay. People believe all sorts of b******t. Why does that matter?”“His name is Minos Headley.”“For real?? You didn’t tell me that!”Anaella sunk her shoulders and lumbered on.“Nae, i-it’s fine, I just want you to be careful.”She let silence hover between them on the turbulent gusts of fine red particles surrounding them.“What are we looking for?”“I don’t know. Just looks like a million miles of nothing.”They scanned a landscape cloaked in a haze. Kane shook his head in resignation when he caught faint shimmering threads floating within the dust.“Look!” he shouted.Along a ridge was a steep drop approaching the horizon. They crept to the edge and crouched down to see a vast crater covered by a dome-shaped, glossy forcefield. They scaled down the rocky embankment close enough to hear the pulsing buzz of peripheral emission devices generating the barrier. They hovered at a spot along it, getting close enough to peer through to see a featureless sprawl dotted with tiny humps and the sprint of tiny crafts between them.Anaella reached out her hand and grazed the edges of the hazy field. It tickled her palm and felt like pops of static through her gloves. She advanced forward and pressed along a surface that felt like smooth glass.“Kane, you have to feel this. It’s…” Her mouth was still agape when she turned around to find Kane standing with his hands up. A slight figure stood pointing a weapon to Kane’s chest.“Get up,” they said.Anaella raised her hands and stumbled to her feet. The guard was in a stark white, seamless suit and slick white helmet with a tinted black front piece obscuring their face.“What are you doing here?”“We’re from Minos. We’re trying to get information on someone from this planet.” Kane said.All three froze as the wind howled and beat against them.“You’re coming with me.”They lowered the weapon and waved their hand along the force field. A portal opened and they gestured Anaella and Kane to enter. Beyond the threshold were steps down to a landing which overlooked the expanse. The portal filled in behind them.The guard removed their helmet and shook loose tresses of fiery hair. The pair followed their lead.“So what’s this about?”“We believe one of your citizens was killed and dumped on our planet.”“Is that right?” They narrowed their suspicious eyes. “Well, you’re lucky I found you. Anyone else would have shot you on sight.”“This is Kane. I’m Anaella. Is there someone we can speak with about this case?”“I’m Tory. And, uh, no one is going to be investigating this case. Does anyone know you’re here?”Anaella shook her head.“Good. If you’ve come this far, I’m sure there’s things you already know about this planet. You must know about the mines.”“We suspected as much,” she said.Tory placed a hand on their holster, scanning the surrounding landing and the scaffolding below.“We should get out of here then. I know the man you’re looking for.”Thanks for tuning in to episode 4 of “Ithaka”. Next week, we’ll take a break from the story for a thread discussion. It’ll be your chance to catch up with the story so far and share your insights. As always, you can email [email protected]. See you next week.As a reader of The Sample, I get interesting newsletters delivered daily. From finance to parenting, it has everything.Medium • Twitter • Instagram • PayPal • Ko-fi Get full access to The FLARE at theflare.substack.com/subscribe

Thank you for coming back to read (or listen to) the short story “Ithaka” in the Listening Room, presented by The FLARE Substack. In episode two, we met Anaella’s new roommate Minos, who is seeing the planet anew. We resume with Anaella and Kane’s investigation tracking down the hover truck which may have dumped the stranger in the field. The FLARE is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.3.She rammed her shoulder into Kane and they both landed hard onto the concrete floor. Sheets of sharp metal crashed onto the spot where Kane once stood. A figure moved swiftly in the lingering shadow.“What the —-“ a voice exclaimed. “Is that a booby trap?!” Kane yelled.“Of course not!” The man said through his teeth.“Well, I could have easily been killed,” Kane retorted. “That s**t weighs at least a few pounds more than me!”“Okay, okay,” Anaella said, smoothing her hands over the front of his jacket.“What are you even doing in here?” the man asked.Kane clenched his jaw and shot the man a menacing glare.“We’re detectives.” Anaella said, wincing against a sore arm. “This is McCoullough. My name is Bahn. We have a few questions.”They braced against each other to rise to their feet and brushed off the shop’s filth. The air hung thick with the smell of rot, only eased by a tumbling breeze through the open back door.“I mean, you’re already in here. Go ahead,” the man said, relaxing his shoulders and passing the pair clean rags to wipe their hands.“We’re investigating some illegal dumping in the field across the way,” Kane said, roughly wiping his hands and tossing the cloth back.“Oh, I don’t think so. There’s nothing to pick up out that way. We head straight down the road and up Leland Drive down to the west end. I-I’m Jan by the way.”He and Kane grasped hands. Jan’s thoughtful eyes were an apology Kane tipped his head to.“That field is cut down not even once a year. Gary just lets it grow. He’s already got a lot of land and there’s no use maintaining what’s not for food or feed.”“Fair enough,” Anaella said.“Look, I heard you found a body out there,” Jan said, letting the whispered words fall from the corner of his mouth. “Had Gary not been out in that field, the grass would have grown over that spot and it would be bones when you saw it next.”“Really?”“Yes! He told me he was going to leave it be and put up a warning sign. This harvest marked the end.”“Who knew that?”“It’s not hard to find things out. Ask and someone knows. Not that we keep secrets but if you know then fine and if you don’t, it’s just the same. You kids know that,” he said gesturing toward them.Anaella blinked away her rolling eyes. “Yes, we know, but we have to ask.”“So we’re trying to find a compost truck that might have dumped the body out there,” Kane said. “You ever have a truck stolen?”Jan pursed his lips and toyed with a loose thread on his sleeve. “The other day, I was out on a run and no one was here. I came back some time later and one of mine smelled like fresh exhaust. I figured one of my folks picked up an extra route. I know we’re out of compliance but we’re a small shop. W-we go the same places everyday. I swear it.”“Let’s see what records you have.”He sprung to a nearby shelf and retrieved a large black binder.“Here it is. We just preprint out the routes, initial and date when we head out. Any detours are in the notes right below that row.”Anaella flipped page after page noting only a few scrawled and terse notes.“What about four days ago?”He balanced a pair of glasses on the end of his nose, narrowing his eyes and pinching his wiry gray brows to comb through the columns.“No notes.”“Is that usual?”He shifted his weight. “Are you going to report me? I have a small shop—““It’s fine!” Anaella suddenly raised her voice. “You’ve been here long enough, too, right?” Jan shrunk away against her scolding eye.“We’re okay,” Kane reassured him. “Hey, what are you doing for Harvest?”“Nothing. Not with The Alignment coming. We’re preparing.”“You really think it’ll happen like they say?” Kane asked.The man huffed and peered sternly over his lenses at Kane. “Everyone better get ready.”Anaella sat reading on the couch with her legs tucked to the side. She paused to take a sip of tea, staring out the open front window at the purple-pink patches of sky as dusk approached. She began turning her thumb ring round and round, thinking on the the history of the man she did not know and what secrets he kept.A shiver unsettled her and she turned to the altar on the sideboard opposite the couch. A woven, multicolored mat lay underneath a menagerie of dried flowers, snuffed candles, and family photos. Tucked among dull and stiff leaves were carved wooden figures. She exhaled slowly and closed her eyes, remembering the plump brown hands of her grandmother, whose fingers quickly laid braids onto her tender scalp. Her nails were rounded at the tips and her skin shone with a thin layer of oil.The gentle memory dissipated with the click of an opening lock. Minos staggered in, plopping shopping bags onto the kitchen counter.“Hey, I got us some dinner.”She smiled and placed her book on the seat beside her. “What did you get?”“Some greens, potatoes, steak, eggs, milk… I didn’t know what to pick so I just got everything.”His innocent eyes glimmered, searching for her approval.“It’s fine. We can have something ready in a little bit. I can chop the vegetables.”She sauntered over and surveyed the bounty.“People were talking about The Alignment today. What is that?”“It’s when our moons eclipse each other. People think they’ll all act on the planet at once, causing chaos.”“Has it happened before?”“I think it’s nonsense, honestly. People need something to believe in. The Alignment gives them a chance to do that.” She slipped passed him to grab a knife from the butcher block.“I can’t believe I didn’t pay for this. It’s wild.”“Not really,” she said over the sound of her blade against the cutting board. “Most of the money is exchanged at the Community level with imports and exports.”“Where are we exporting to?”“Waystation. You know how it is there. They need all the help they can get,” Anaella snickered.Minos turned on the oven, then set his palms on the counter. Anaella slowed the momentum of the blade to watch him.“What can I help with?” he asked.The creek of the couch followed the clatter of dishes into the sink after their finished meal.“Like I was saying, no one has mapped the dimensions the Gemini Belt yet. We know the shortest route through but not around it. In the beginning, people tried placing probes along the path, then later, tried to burr them into the asteroids themselves. They kept running into the same problem though: they were planting flags in shifting sand.“It wasn’t until this one pilot decided to map the path through with just coordinates, that we had success. See, the rocks are also magnetic, so beyond a certain point there’s no communication. We haven’t found anything to penetrate that field. And with the crafts they were using back then, hell, even today, we can use only the most basic functions.“It takes an experienced pilot to get through the Belt. If you follow the headings to the letter, you’ll get here. If you have to stop, wait for asteroids to pass, then fine. Do that. But deviating is a huge mistake. I’ve heard of people getting very easily turned around in that belt and ending up off course for weeks.“Been there.”“No s**t.”“Seriously. So we were on our way here for a third  time—““Third?”“Yeah. So my dad, ole Lucky Headley, thinks he’s experienced and absolutely demanded the captain go around this asteroid twice the size of the ship. He tells my dad, let’s just map the speed of this thing and wait for it to pass. Put it in park, save fuel, then be on our way. My dad was adamant. So the guy says okay. We go around this rock and there’s another beside it. Okay, we keep going. Then all of sudden all these tiny ones come speeding toward us. The pilot immediately evades them. Those tiny rocks are deadly.“So he manuvers around this little storm and now he doesn’t know where we are. He lost the heading, there was some damage to repair, and navigation starts acting up. My dad was so pissed. He was screaming at this guy. The two of them end up rolling on the floor, throwing punches. The crew is screaming. I’m screaming.“After a week we’re ready to go and it takes two days to get back on the flight path. So we head back on our way…”Minos broke into a giggle. Anaella slapped his arm.“You have to tell me.”“We get to another huge rock!”Anaella’s eyes glowed with delight. “Oh my, what happened?”“The captain turns to my dad with, like, this stare of death and says, ‘Don’t you say one f****n’ word.’ I swear, my dad shrunk down in his seat with these puppy dog eyes and didn’t say a single word.”“How long did it take to clear the path”“Like two hours.”Anaella shook her head in disbelief. “To this day, I’m pretty sure my dad would hide if he saw that man again.”As the raucous laughter continued, Anaella’s phone pulsed green and vibrated before fading.“I never asked about this,” Minos said. He pointed toward the altar atop the sideboard.“It’s just a place to go. To remember. We’re close to The Alignment and everyone has their own way of preparing. I stay close to them and that’s how I have always prepared for anything.”He lightly brushed his fingertips against her shoulder. “You’ve told me a lot, but it feels like a textbook. What about you?”Her phone continued pulsing green with a new voicemail when it caught her eye. She jogged over to the counter and her face hardened as she listened to the message.Hey Nae, it’s Felix. I’m done with that case. Can you call me back?“Hey, just wanted to tell you the results. Your guy is a young man with a 65 year-old, enlarged heart and chronic lung disease from an unknown agent. It’s like miner’s lung, but the cause of death is still blunt force trauma.”“That it?”“No. I actually took some x-rays out of curiosity and he has some healed breaks to the ribs and arms. He looks like he got worked over. Tough life, I’d say.”“I appreciate it. Thanks.”“One more thing! That thing you brought me, that looked like straw?”“Yeah?”“It’s metal. I don’t know what type but it’s amazing. Kane is coming by to take a look, but it’s really something.”Minos sat cross-legged and motionless on the couch with his ear fixed on Anaella’s turned back.“No Senator, that is not the direction we intent. We have made it perfectly clear —-““Except you haven’t! You haven’t made it clear what safety protocols you intend to implement to prevent mishaps. These are not international waters. This is space. No country has territory out there who can offer an assist. You’d be alone.”“We’re well aware of that, Senator, and with all due respect, have considered many possible scenarios and have top scientist, engineers, and mathematicians working on this. This is no weekend warriors project. We are well prepared.”The room was dead silent. Don’s words hung thick in the air like fog. Each spectator was held captive on droplet. Senator Crowley held firm and knew it was time to pivot. The public was crying out to be saved and their decision would echo through time as one that spared a self-immolating planet or damned it to hell.The world had long been told by scientists that it was too late. The Maldives was almost completely under water before the stark reality penetrated… but also the panic.“I’d like to hear from the CEO now.”“Yes, Senator. He’s coming in shortly.”A tall, stoic man in a navy blue suit and tan, monk strap shoes strolled down the aisle giving nods to the people who had become supporters during the course of the hearings.He sat down next to Don and folded his hands on the table, tilted his chin slightly upward.“Please state your full name for the record.”“Charles Devlin Marshall Headley, III.”As a reader of The Sample, I get interesting newsletters delivered daily. From finance to parenting, it has everything.Medium • Twitter • Instagram • PayPal • Ko-fi Get full access to The FLARE at theflare.substack.com/subscribe

Welcome back to episode 2 of “Ithaka”. If you haven’t already done so, please go back to listen to episode one. We met an unknown man whose death brings up many questions as to his origin. In another scene, we flash back to the past in the midst of a critical conversation in front of a Senate committee.2.A man with a fistful of wavy brown hair and a wide stride approached the glass doors before swiftly moving aside to let someone out. Once inside, he paused to check his phone, then tousling his hair before scanning the room for someone he did not yet recognize.Anaella rose half way out of her seat and waved him over. The man flashed a relieved smile and strolled over to the table.“Hi! I’m Anaella Bahn.”“Hey, nice to meet you. Minos.”They shook hands as she muffling a chuckle.Minos sighed. “That smile! Yeah, I’m one of those.”“I didn’t say anything!”“It’s Minos K. Headley XIV. Last of the Headley empire and heir to all their holdings,” he said with a dramatic flair.They were still holding hands when she broke his grip and sat down.“How was the journey out here?”“Not bad. I just landed yesterday and got a hotel.”“Have you been able to see the town or anything?”“Not really. I’ve traveled here before, I just never got out much.”“Okay, so where are you from?”Minos shifted in his chair and recounting his childhood on Earth before his years-long journey as a latch-key kid on a spacecraft to Waystation. His father, nicknamed Lucky, had all but evaporated once Minos had settled in and made new friends. A caretaker raised him until he was old enough to be on his own.“I didn’t know what to do though. I hadn’t really learned a skill or gotten much schooling after we left Earth when I was like 14. I had to kind of figure it out. My dad was gone. So I ended up finishing high school and getting a college degree over a few years remotely.”“Wow, I had no idea. How about your mom?”“She didn’t come. Said she wouldn’t be caught dead in a spacesuit. When we left, she hugged me so tight, stared so long. I kind of shrugged it off. I didn’t know it, but she had cancer. She didn’t want to be out here with no life line. She died the day we landed in Waystation.”“I’m sorry.”“It’s okay. I think we don’t realize how much we need our parents, even when we say we don’t.” He shrugged and glanced blankly at his folded hands.They sat silent as the cafe beat with the slow hum of idle chatter. Anaella bowed her head in some gesture of misplaced reverence, of a shred of shared mourning. He stared intently at her, peeling away the layers and peering inside. She could feel her chest expand with warmth and her eyes sting.“Where does the name Bahn come from?” Minos said finally.Anaella’s face bloomed from it’s wilt.“I-It doesn’t mean anything, as far as I know,” she stammered. “My great great…great grandmother made it up or something. She wanted to start fresh.”“I hear that. How long has your family been here?”“I’m a 6th generation so about 200 years.””Oh wow. I mean, you know what my family does. I’m kind of a drifter. How about you?”“I work at the investigative offices. Crime rate is pretty low but people still need our services.”“What, like police?”“No, no, that whole structure was redone. We specifically investigate and gather evidence. We don’t make arrests or kick down doors.”“Do you get interesting cases?”“Sometimes. Mostly uncomplicated stuff but occasionally the world surprises us.”He locked eyes until she broke the trance with an artfully placed cough and pointed his attention out the window.“The apartment isn’t far from here. Nice two bedroom with an office area and pretty big kitchen, if you like to cook, that is.”“I like to dabble a bit. You know, boil water.”He flashed an easy smile which she couldn’t help but return.“So what brings you to your namesake?” Anaella asked.“I’ve been bouncing around for a little while and am looking to settle down. Get a job, live a boring life… How much do I owe you for rent?” he said.“Umm, nothing right now. We can work that out later.”“Oh,” he said, with raised eyebrows.She smiled dryly and traced the deep red-brown grains of wood with her eyes, silently willing Minos to stop staring.As if on cue, he rubbed the tops of this thighs and glanced around before rising from his chair. “I think I should head out. You probably have more people to see.”“I think you got the job.” Anaella said quickly. “If you’ve got time, you can move in this weekend. I’m working on a case but I’ll be around.““Okay. Can’t wait to see you then.”Warmth spread over her face as she waved.He turned and slipped smoothly around patrons and exited without looking back.Anaella threw open the door to see a haggard Minos with bags slung over his shoulders.“Welcome, welcome. Let me grab something.” She teetered under the weight of his luggage and set them down in his room. The bed was freshly made with folded towels on his dresser. The window was open and the air smelled faintly of burning firewood and forest.“This is it. Umm, the bathroom is down that way along with the laundry closet. I didn’t know if you had anything clean, so there’s some night clothes for you in case—““I’m fine,” he said, stepping closer. “I appreciate it. Just let me get settled. I’ll make some of that boiled water you like.”Anaella let an amused grin spread at the corner of her mouth.“I’ll be in the next room. It’s early. We can still take a look around town.”The town center was reminiscent of places Minos had visited before: quaint cobblestoned streets were lined with three-story buildings with stores on their first floor.  Narrow entrances were framed with detailed molding, each more unique than the last. They passed through walls of complex aromas ranging from spice blends to sticky sweet pastries. Minos trailed Anaella wide-eyed, peering through store windows of craftsman at looms or behind long stone countertops folding and spinning treats.“I’ve been so isolated. Feels like I don’t know anything about this planet.”“Well, this is Ithaka of course, one of the largest cities on the mainland of Nesh. Tame is northwest of here, where they raise livestock and grow grain to feed them. Jefferson, which was renamed Community, is the seat of our government which is a hybridized version of a couple different types of systems. We have the government, education, and professional offices really clustered in that area. We’ve got to head out there one day to see it, but it’s gorgeous. Really flowy, low-to-the-ground design with lots of green space. It’s inviting and understandably, a great place to recover if you’re in a support center down there.“Dom is the second largest land mass to the southeast which is where they do a lot of fabrication, you know, creating cogs and pistons. They have a couple large cities like Cranford, Brennan, and Westwood.“It sounds crazy but we are still mapping out this planet, even after 300 years. There are still people migrating in all directions for better weather or soil. My family in particular settled in Community around the time it was founded, so we’re the academic type. The Bahns led one of the first cooperative efforts to capture information about the planet. Seems obvious, but more we learn about this world, the better we can work with it and adapt to it.“Damn, I’ve been talking you ear off. Any other questions or maybe things you’d want to see?”“Naw, it’s fine. It’s interesting. We’re used to worlds already formed. We never get to shape one,” Minos said.“I’m not sure that’s true. We shape the world with our intentions, emotions, and actions. We get to shape little worlds every day with the people we know.”They walked in step silently for a while, taking in snapshots of a tranquil valley town bordered by thunderous mountains in the far distance.“So you’re in investigations, right? Is there security at least?”“Not really. There’s Health, Investigations, Safety, and Support where we are all teams. Our Safety TMs are specifically for dangerous situations. People call for the service they need and we provide it.”“Anyone ever try to, you know, cheat the system?” Minos said with a sudden suspicious eye.“I mean, it’s not that it can’t happen, but there’s really no need. There are places to go and staff who can help. I’d say people generally use services we provide. They haven’t really learned to abuse a system because there’s a high level of trust.”“I don’t believe that,” Minos scoffed.“It’s not about what you believe. Think about it, people came here and brought everything, good and bad. They brought hierarchy, government, bigotry, vice, everything. So we set up this tiny version of what we knew before and wondered why we had the same problems.”“How did you build what’s here today?”Anaella stared off ahead and wrapped her scarf more tightly against a rising chill. Her voice started low.“When this planet was first settled, the founders created an ideal society for themselves but hell for the people, my ancestors, who served them. Everything you see here was plotted and planned. The best materials were sourced and brought on enormous cargo ships. We’re still piecing parts of the story together but we know that what was hidden on Earth, was in the open here. There was nothing to stop it. They did unforgivable things,” she said, her face drawn and pensive.“The people under their thumbs rebelled and met them with even greater cruelty. The founders were slaughtered,” she said plainly.Minos’s face hardened with bitterness. “They weren’t any better then.”“No one is proud of how we got here but we acknowledge the history as fact. We don’t glorify it, but we do provide context. There are people at the top of a pyramid who control what’s below them, but they occupy a small population. Most are just instruments of the powerful. So the question is: what blocks need to be removed to collapse the structure?”They ducked through a small side street and underneath an archway, which opened into a massive square tiled with marbled stone slabs and bordered by a colorful mosaic. They weaved in between crowded seated areas and found a spot to sit.“Probably ones toward the middle?”“Not necessarily. Pyramids are sturdy by nature of their shape. So, you have to remove several blocks at all levels at the right intervals. If you’re lucky, it’ll be rubble, but most likely, some parts of it will remain. That’s when you build a new structure which will inevitably be based on the old, then destroy that too. Eventually with these cycles of destruction, you clear the land and get a new shape altogether. That’s the core of Community.”“Damn, you’re good. You could still be a teacher.”“Eh. Maybe I should have been. I’m sure I would have been a real force on Earth.““I think so. But that pyramid was and probably still is, where people built their whole lives. Can’t give that up.”“You can hold on and drown or let go and live.”“So, we know he probably got dumped by a compost truck. The farmer would have heard or felt a larger craft even if he was on the other side of the field. And those little kiddy hover crafts can’t hold more than an average teenager.” Anaella said.“Yup.”“Where’s the next truck yard then?”“I looked up a couple that are in the area. There’s one on Norwood that’s close to the field. Bold, but a possibility. There’s also one a little farther out on Beech that is not far from the Kinney Station,” Kane said.“Why do we care about the one near Kinney?”“Because whoever dropped the man off may not be from around here and would have needed a speedy exit.”Anaella raised his eyebrows and nodded in agreement. “That’s possible too. Where to first?”“Kinney,” he said.They parked at the far edge of a long strip of tarmac near a large and imposing hunter green structure with a bright yellow sprout logo on one side. Repurposed from a spacecraft hanger and landing field, it was now a compost processing center but still had its enormous sliding doors. The right wall was lined with dark green hover trucks, each with halos of black, speckled concrete stains beneath them. On the left wall were roofless partitions with a front desk where a burly man in khaki work pants and a company tee shirt sat.“Morning!” Kane bellowed.The man was quick to his feet and jogged over, darting his eyes from one to the other as he approached and stretched out a firm hand.“Morning,” he said placing his arms akimbo. “How can I help you?”“Hey, I’m Detective Bahn. This is my partner, Detective McCullough. I have some questions about your trucks.”The man tipped his head up to shoot a quick look at his fleet.“Nice to meet you, I’m Laurence. What about them?”“We think one of them might have done some illegal dumping in a field at the edge of Ithaka.”“One of mine?” His planted pointed fingers to his chest.“We’re just checking it out.”“Do you have a log of your routes?” Kane asked.“Sure. I mean, we all do. From when?”“About four days ago.”“Let me see.”Laurence walked back to the computer and pulled up the routes for all ten trucks. He squinted hard, then shook his head and folded his arms across his chest.“No, we don’t service that area. Not at all. I did have one off line for repairs, but I fixed that myself. A thief would have gotten a big surprise.”“Okay, thank you for your time,” Anaella said.They took pointed glances around the stark building as they exited the doors onto the runway.“What did you think?” Kane asked.”I don’t think we’ll find anything there. Routing software is hard to fake. And his place is too clean. I could barely smell anything.”“Fair enough. On to the next?” Kane said.“Yeah. I’ve always loved a ‘hiding in plane sight’ answer to a mystery.”The compost center on Norwood was, by comparison, small and rundown, with vines snaking up a corner of the building and hugging the rusted frame of a locked front door. The pair ducked through a side gate down an unkempt, but well tread path, peering through a row of windows obscured with dust and grease. At the back was a beaten metal door left ajar.Kane ushered Anaella behind him and pried open the door. The air was colder inside than out.“Flashlight?” she whispered.He shook his head. “No, I’ll find a switch.”He crept over the threshold and into the room. Blackness washed across his back until he disappeared.“I think I got it!” He whispered back toward the door. He flicked on the light revealing a dingy shop with scattered tools on a workbench next to the door and a few older model hover trucks on the far wall.Anaella’s lips folded into a frown, then a wide-mouthed look of shock as she dashed across the room.“Kane, look out!”As a reader of The Sample, I get interesting newsletters delivered daily. From finance to parenting, it has everything.Medium • Twitter • Instagram • PayPal • Ko-fi Get full access to The FLARE at theflare.substack.com/subscribe

You’re in The Listening Room, a podcast series by The FLARE Substack which is premiering the serial fiction story “Ithaka”. I’m Chevanne, your host.We begin hundreds of years in the future just outside the town of Ithaka. We meet our protagonist at the beginning of a developing mystery.The FLARE is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.1.Anaella marched slowly through the tall silver green grass, her knees rising high. Off in the distance, the crescent moons of Janus, Tophi, and Herod shimmered against a bright pink cotton candy sky. A gentle breeze laid against the grass as she drew closer. In a small clearing was a man caked in thick, brown earth, more concealed by the grass than the mounds of ground partially covering him. His arms were tucked beneath him and his legs were oddly bent. He looked like he’d drowned in the mud.Anaella rounded the clearing like a panther, peering and sniffing. In her tread across the field to the scene, the grass beat like hairs across the plain with their strands unbroken and no traces of anyone else, save those already present. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a pair of forceps along with a small paper bag. Then lowering herself at the edge of the clearing, she picked up a single yellow sliver of what looked like straw.“What is that?” Kane asked.“Maybe nothing. But you never know,” Anaella said.Kane nodded and scanned the gristly and nearly bloodless scene with an uneasy scowl.“He’s only been here about 30 minutes. The only tracks here are from Mr. Lane. He passed by this spot and swore nothing was here. When he came back around, he found… him.”Anaella was silent, lowering her brows and idly pawing at her thumb ring with her index finger. She snapped off a piece of nearby grass, sniffed it, then placed it on her tongue.“F**k sake…”“What? I’m letting the scene speak to me.” She chewed with her mouth open, occasionally sucking in bits of air.“Someone dragged a body through this field and you’re gnawing on potential evidence?”“Do you really think they dragged him out here?”“How else did he get here?”Anaella looked up. A swirl of wispy clouds danced around bright stars as gloaming approached. They would find nothing here. Not now.“Let the field dry out. We’ll come back. Tell the guys they can move the body.”She marched back the way she came, looking among the thick blades of grass and running her hand atop them. She got back in the car and waited for Kane to join her. He finally stepped out from the field and entered the driver’s side.“Why were you chewing on that grass?”“Wanted to see if I could taste fuel.”“Fuel?”“Yeah. You never tasted it?”Kane shook his head in astonishment.“They started building those hovercrafts ages ago for fun, just to get around town. Eventually, it was used industrially to do compost collection. Practical, right? No trucks clogging up the roads on pick up day. Well, the problem was when they lowered down then pushed off, they would leave this fine coating of vaporized fuel. After a while, you could tell where they’d been. Even if you didn’t know when they came, you could smell it. I ran under one just to feel the rush of air on my head and got that exhaust on my clothes, in my hair… the taste is pretty distinct.”“Okay…?” Kane said, imploring her to continue.“The grass tasted like fuel. I think a truck came through on the short side of the field near the road and dropped him off.”“But he was caked in mud.”“Yeah, I thought about that. But then I remembered that old story about someone hitching a ride in a compost craft and not making it out. So now there’s sensors and the craft won’t even turn on if someone’s in there. But if he’s stuck in between inches and inches of mud…”“Then the sensors might not pick him up.”“Yup.”Kane paused, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.“Who do you think he is?”“We’ll find out soon enough, but I want to look at some other things first. Let’s get the autopsy done, then go from there.”“We should get his DNA in first thing when they open. We need to find his family.”Anaella looked out onto the road and nodded as the engine whirred alive. “Yeah. We will.”The morning came quickly after a fitful night plagued with visions of a stifled death where she sunk deeper and deeper with mud filling her mouth until she snapped awake in horror. She sat up early taking notes and mulling over the scene until the pathologist called that afternoon to say he was starting the autopsy.Anaella’s boots clopped against the linoleum as she neared the autopsy suite. She stretched out her hand to a thin black screen on the wall then drew it back. The hallway on either side of her was quiet, empty, and starkly dull white. She pressed her hand against the screen which lit up and pulsed blue. The lock clicked open and she swung open the door.To her left just beyond the entrance was an unkempt office littered with an eclectic collection half-filled mugs, scattered paper, and books piled against the side of the desk. She continued down the hall to the intake room through another set of sturdy doors with thick gaskets around the edges. A large and imposing stainless steel, industrial fridge door stood like a sentinel. Across from it was the body face up on the autopsy table with the mud cleaned from him arms, face, and feet.“Morning, Felix,”she said quietly.Felix turned from his cutting board where excised organs lay and smiled from behind a foggy face shield. Dabbing his bloody gloves on a paper towel, he walked over and nodding his greetings.“Good to see you,” he said.“You too. Are you wrapping up?”“No, not yet, but I can show you what I have so far.”“Did you take soil samples?” she asked.“Yeah. You were right. Some of it isn’t soil from that immediate area or really any other place in the field.”Felix picked up a small glass vial from atop an instrument tray. He held it up to the light and moved in closer for Anaella to see. There were friable bits of red-brown dirt mixed with the more dense and dark native soil.“Where is it from?” Anaella asked, staring as Felix rolled the vial between his fingers.“You won’t believe this. I think it’s from Helios.”“That’s a wild guess.”“Not really. My nephew has this old soil sample from Helios that a family friend got on an expedition. It’s got that same clay and high metal composition. Luckily there was some undisturbed dirt in the waist of his pants and in his belly button. I have some other testing I just sent out. We’ll see what else is in the sample.”Anaella looked over the body, a fairly young and tall man with a toned, slender build. His brown hair lay slick with dripping water.“Look at his hands. What do you notice?” Felix said.“They’re big. Like a farmer’s.”They were tough and calloused with swollen joints and nails cut short. The back of his hands once pulsed with large vessels that now laid flat.“Any idea who he is?”“We have no record of this man. Dental records, DNA, fingerprints… nothing.”“Maybe he’s one of the valley dwellers.”“We get vital statistics on them. It’s a different form but the same info. Who knows, he might have lived on Helios,” Felix joked.Anaella pointed her bottom lip out, still thinking. The planet ahead of Minos’s orbit was desolate and volatile. It was the site of the first settlers’ crash on the way to their habitable planet. As far an anyone knew, nothing had ever been there.“How do you figure?”“Let’s look at the organs.” Felix searched for a clean spot on his gloved wrist to push up his glasses and led Anaella to the long table.“His lungs are weird. It looks like he has chronic damage, but I can’t tell what it’s from, yet. He’s very young to have that type of damage. I mean, it could be genetic or from smoking, but it doesn’t exactly look like that. I have to wait for the slides. Otherwise, pretty normal organ weights and appearance,” Felix continued. “No real stomach contents, mild fatty liver, heart’s in good shape—““And you’re sure he’s not from here?”“Look, I’m just throwing it out there. The man was powder-coated with dust from a planet that’s a dangerous tourist attraction and unless he spent his whole life hidden in a cave somewhere, we’d know who he is. Add to that, he looks like he’s done hard labor.”“Hard labor on an uninhabited planet. Interesting,” she mused. “Cause of death?”“Blow to the head. He has a skull fracture and an underlying brain bleed.” He pointed to a shaved area at the side of the head with a jagged laceration. Anaella’s eyes suddenly went wide as she searched her pockets.“Yes! I have to give you this.” She placed a small paper bag on the instrument tray.“What is it?”“I don’t know. See what you think. Alright, gotta go.”“Sure thing. I’ll see you.”Anaella walked briskly out the building doors, met by crisp early evening air that tickled her nose and a beaming sun just barely warming her face. She got into the car where Kane was reading a magazine.“What did we find out? Give me the quick version without the guts,” he said.“Something very interesting,” she teased.“Oh yeah?” He looked up from the glossy pages.“Felix says he’s from Helios.”“Ha! That’s gotta be b******t. Nothing is over there but wind storms and rocks.”Kane tossed his magazine in the back seat and shot a side eye of playful disbelief.“He’s a mystery man with no records here and a lot of lung disease,” Anaella said.“Well, we still have to go back over to the field and Felix doesn’t have the final results. My bet is this will be wrapped up by the end of the week.”“You love to lose, don’t you?”“Losers buy dinner and since you can never decide—-““S**t,” she groaned. “I have a roommate interview tonight. He’s some guy who just got in from Waystation.”“Oh boy. Is he going to end up like the last one?”“No!” Anaella protested.“That got messy,” Kane said with a wide grin.She fell into an exaggerated pout with her arms crossed. They slyly glanced at each other before breaking into riotous laughter.“Okay, so let me explain.”“Please do.”Hushed murmurs filled the oak walls of the Senate chambers as four suited men walked down the aisle to be seated in front of the oversight committee.They sat noiselessly and mechanically sorted through large binders and stuffed folders, scarcely looking at either the buzzing crowd behind them or the stern officials in front of them. They whispered to each other, shaking their heads, and pointing out passages on laid out documents.“Are you ready to begin?” Senator Leland asked.“Just a moment, please,” Don said sternly. He was one of the company’s lead attorneys who had an impeccable sharpness about him that commanded compliance. His jaw clenched as he seemed to scold a junior member of the group, sending him scurrying out of the room.Another man quickly emerged at the door with a faint sense of panic in his eyes. He bounded down the aisle carrying a pristine leather briefcase. All eyes were on it. He slipped into the seat next to Don and tapped on the briefcase with the tips of his fingers. He spoke hurriedly and Don seemed satisfied with whatever synopsis he had been given.Don looked across the table to his left, then slowly to his right, gathering assured nods as he went.“Senator, we’re ready to begin,” Don said.Whether an elaborate act or earnest preparation, no one could be sure. It was a pivotal moment in history. The oversight committee would be evaluating the possibility of a private company colonizing the nearest Goldilocks planet.This concludes chapter one of “Ithaka”. Stay tuned for the next episode next week.Happy listening.As a reader of The Sample, I get interesting newsletters delivered daily. From finance to parenting, it has everything.Medium • Twitter • Instagram • PayPal • Ko-fi Get full access to The FLARE at theflare.substack.com/subscribe

You’re in The Listening Room, a podcast series by The FLARE Substack which will feature updates and readings of selected published work. I’m Chevanne, the voice behind both.I have to admit, it was a rough summer. I went through a lot emotionally and physically. Like every restaurant or post office, I was short-staffed as well. This meant making myself the mortar between widely spaced bricks. I do that, though, sacrifice myself, but it didn’t work, and I was exhausted.I pivoted, shuffled, organized, and occasionally cried my way through it. I’m on the other side of it, now, roughly coinciding with the autumn equinox. I’m slowing down and trying to let go of all the tension from summer. It’s also my birthday today (October 3rd), which for me, is an occasion to celebrate myself. You can celebrate me by subscribing (either free or paid), with a one-time tip to my PayPal, or sending your well wishes in the comment section.The FLARE is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.Now let’s get to the fiction.I took a break in September and it gave me space to think about the sci-fi mystery I’ve been dreaming up for over a year. I’ve built the details in my mind of landscapes, people, technology, and what I think is important in any society: history. The who, who they are, and how they got there.Like the three-part “Of Dust and Dreams” story I published earlier this year, this story is an experiment. It’s my most expansive world yet. I invite listeners and readers to comment and let me know what you think (kindly, please).In “Ithaka” we meet Anaella, a detective who unexpectedly sparks an interplanetary conflict during a murder investigation.To note, this story is still under construction. That means some of you may be part of it. Feel free to email [email protected] with questions or insight.Episodes will premiere each week on Mondays at 3pm starting October 17th. Hope to see you there.Happy listening!Medium • Twitter • Instagram • PayPal • Ko-fi Get full access to The FLARE at theflare.substack.com/subscribe