August Anew: Aslos, #1

By Bryan K Pugh

After an unexpected disaster, Erika aka Reika awakens to find herself in a world beyond her previous experiences. Against all odds, she must learn to navigate in this strange new world. It will take all of her wits, courage, and maybe something extra, to survive.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Laughing Moose, LLC
• Release date: Apr 17, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224834617

Bryan K Pugh

A nerd. Bachelors of Science degree in astrophysics. Masters of Arts for Teaching. When not spending time with the family or teaching High School science, is gaming, writing or drawing the panels for the August Anew graphic novel.

Book preview

August Anew

Aslos Book I

Bryan Kelly Pugh

Laughing Moose

Copyright © 2022 Bryan Kelly Pugh

All rights reserved

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

ISBN-13: 9798408205493

ISBN-10: B09R54N58D

Cover design by: Bryan Kelly Pugh

Edited by: Kimberly E. Wohnig-Pugh

Printed in the United States of America

Dedicated to my wonderful wife, companion, and inspiration.

Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Preface

Singularity

Reborn

Detention

Trial

Divine

Creation

Hunted

Reike

Measures

Another

Escape

Epilogue

Appendix

Preface

Erika aka Reika Ward has learned to navigate the college world.

As she begins the next chapter of her life, will she be able to navigate the next world she finds herself in?

◆◆◆

Singularity

Airport

As usual, Salt Lake City International is busy. The airport feels alive with hundreds of groans, sighs, and goodbyes, and I do the latter. Aiden, my favorite person in the entire world, makes sure that my day will run as smoothly as possible. He won’t be able to go with me past the ticket counter, so he delivers me into the capable hands of a skycap named Melissa. I have a few moments of frustration because Melissa insists that I sit in a wheelchair. Part of me wants to protest. There is nothing wrong with my legs. I may need extra help, but I’m not handicapped. 

Melissa speaks to Aiden in a sugary-sweet, sing-song voice. She asks all sorts of questions. What is our name?

Aiden answers, Erika Ward.

And where are we going?

Eight am to Dallas.

She inexplicably lowers her voice to a harsh whisper that is no quieter than her regular speaking voice, Are we going to need any help going to the potty?

At this point, Aiden must notice the scowl on my face and tells Melissa, I think Erika can manage the bathroom herself. You know, you could just ask her these questions. She’s really good at talking.

His words sound polite, but I can feel the smile behind them.

Melissa pats me on the shoulder and says, Well of course she can.

Aiden presses my white-tipped cane into my hand and leans in to kiss me on the cheek. I’m gonna miss you, Reika. Text me when you get to Dallas so that I know you are safe.

I squeeze him goodbye and resign myself to the tender mercies of Melissa. 

Even though I get to the airport early, time seems to fly by. Despite my first worries about Melissa’s abilities, she wheels me through the airport with a complete lack of fuss and bother. She even manages to help me get my favorite coffee drink on the way. She carefully deposits me at my gate letting Darla, the gate attendant, know that I am going to need extra help getting on the flight. Darla is much cooler and more laid back than Melissa. She tells me that she will let me board early and that one of the flight attendants will help me to my seat. I barely have time to finish my coffee before it’s my turn to board the plane.

◆◆◆

Airplane

The flight attendant helps me to my seat in First Class and hands me a bottle of water. She takes my hand, with my permission, and guides it to where the call button is. I’m hoping that my lack of flight experience isn’t showing. Nervousness and fear are causing butterflies in my stomach. I hope that I won’t have to ring the stewardess for a barf-bag.

The plane quickly fills up. The person next to me is a businessperson flying home to Dallas. She politely informs me that she is exhausted and doesn’t feel like chatting. This suits me fine. I’ve got a lot to think about. 

Before long, the plane takes off and reaches cruising altitude. The pilot announces that the flight will take around two and a half hours, so I have plenty of time to think. They have not provided much information about the lab or project which will consume my summer break. I only know that I will eat, sleep, and work all within the confines of the facility. Personal cell phone and computer use will be non-existent. I’m excited about a chance to work on such an important project. I hope that I will get to meet new people and experience new things. The only worry that nags at my mind is being a liability due to my disability. I’ll just die if they all treat me like Melissa did.

Just because my eyes and skin are different doesn’t mean that there’s something wrong with my mind. I’ve been blind since birth. Eye surgery as a toddler gave me enough vision to detect light and bright colors. At the same time, migraines go with the ability to detect those colors. It was not a good trade, but one that I have had to live with. From what I have heard, my eyes are a startling reddish hue, but I’ve never seen them, so I don’t really know. 

As melodramatic as it sounds, the sun is my mortal enemy. Of course, that’s not completely correct but there is some truth to it. My skin blisters badly in the sunlight. It feels tight and itchy after just a few minutes of exposure. I must wear dark sunglasses to protect my eyes from the glare of sunlight as it causes me to have migraine headaches and nausea. To avoid the problem, I must cover as much skin as possible, slather on sunscreen, and wear my dark glasses. When possible, I choose to move outside when it’s dark. 

One of the reasons I am most looking forward to my internship is never having to go outside in the sun. I would think that the Texas sun is way stronger than the northern Utah sun. Then I’ll only need my glasses to protect me from extremely bright artificial light. Maybe if I am working in my room, I can just turn the lights off. Working in the dark doesn’t bother me. 

Patrick, the flight attendant who had introduced himself to me when I boarded, interrupts my thought stream, Excuse me, miss. What would you like to drink?

Hot tea, please. 

Sipping the tea and placing the headphones over my ears. I listen to some nineties alternative hits mixed with the loud hum of the airplane engine and try to relax. 

◆◆◆

Dallas

Most people know that one of the perks of needing extra time to board the plane means getting on the plane first. Fewer people know that those of us who need to get on the plane first usually deplane last. When everyone else stands and deplanes, I must remain seated and wait for help. I’d never remain standing through the circus that moves around me. The plane almost vibrates with the activity and excitement of my fellow passengers. Luckily for me, long physics lectures have taught me to be patient and careful. They’ve also trained me to have an extraordinarily strong bladder. Thankfully, the flight attendant helps me into the restroom to take care of it before I leave the plane. 

Soon enough, it is my turn to deplane. The skycap zips me through the airport. First, there is a quick stop to get a chai latte, then the skycap pulls my bag from the claim belt. I confirm that it is mine by reading the braille tag attached to it. 

Above the roar of the crowd, a vaguely familiar voice calls out, Erika, is that you? My, my, you have grown. The deep recesses of my mind fill in the name Dr. Andrews to this voice. I haven’t seen him in many years. He was my father’s college mentor and a family friend from long ago.

Waving in the direction of the greeting while trying to mask my excitement with an air of professionalism, Hello Dr. Andrews. Thank you for coming to pick me up. And thank you for admitting me into the program. I’m excited to be working with you. I can’t believe this. I’m here. Graduate school marks a new phase of my life. It’s time to find out if I sink or swim. 

Dr. Andrews continues, I haven’t seen you since you were a toddler, but Erik has told me all about you. Revealing an awkward, toothy grin, while wondering just how much dad had told them about me. I nod but a response does not surface.

The skycap bids farewell, he leaves me to the care of my new advisor and mentor. Dr. Andrews’s voice leads the way while I follow using my white-tipped cane. Please let me know if I need to slow down or if you need help. There is a cart over here that we will take. 

He guides me to a seat, and the cart takes off. We’ll be taking a helicopter to the lab. It will be quicker and more pleasant than taking the road. You’ve already had a long day. I don’t want to wear you out completely. 

Dr. Andrew’s doting makes me smile to myself. Dad says that Dr. Andrews is a little bit like a brood hen with his chicks. Everyone must be safe, sound, and comfortable. This must be why mom and dad finally let me go so far away from home. 

Within minutes we are on the helicopter. The noise from the rotor deafens me. The sense of weightlessness disorients me. For the first time in a long time, a sense of helplessness tries to take over. One of the first lessons learned from my acclimation tutor was to never let myself fall into the trap of disorientation. Drowning in confusion is the biggest enemy. Breathing deeply, I take a moment to feel the world around me. Dr. Andrews is sitting next to me. I can feel the warmth of his body. There is a measure of comfort from the feel of his leg next to mine. This is what I chose to focus on to keep my nerves in check. This will be enough until we get to the lab. 

◆◆◆

Desertron

As World War II concluded, the world entered the Atomic Age. European scientists proposed to form a fantastic, new physics laboratory that would delve deeper into the mysteries of the atom. They formed the European Council for Nuclear Research (CERN) in Geneva, Switzerland.

At CERN, many complex and expensive machines were engineered. The Synchrocyclotron (SC) was constructed in the late 1950s and was the first accelerator. Soon after, the Proton Synchrotron (PS) was built. These accelerators were designed to probe into the nature of the atom. New developments in the 1960s promised even greater discoveries. They would enhance the Proton Synchrotron with two Interconnected Storage Rings (ISR) which would allow two proton beams to build up and then collide.

In 1976, the first of these giant underground rings at CERN were completed. They had a circumference that measured 27 km or 17 miles, and they were called the Super Proton Synchrotron (SPS). 

Fearing they would be left behind; the American government sprang into action. Their goal was to build a larger and better underground collider ring. Throughout the late 1970s and into the 1980s, proposals were made, and plans were drafted. President Reagan approved the plan in 1987. The Superconducting Super Collider (SSC), colloquially called Project Desertron, was born. This behemoth would dwarf CERN’s colliders, having a circumference of 51 miles. It was constructed near Waxahachie, Texas. 

The general belief is that the construction of the Desertron ended during the Cold War. The United States government has disavowed all knowledge of this project. 

◆◆◆

Facility

Butterflies fly from my stomach due to the lurching descent. The roar of the rotor drowns out most of Dr. Andrews’ words, but I think he’s telling me that we are landing. We’ve flown for several minutes. I forgot to ask where the laboratory is. The nondisclosure agreements that I signed prevented me from knowing up to this point. Now that my internship has begun, that information should be available.

The helicopter shakes and then settles, and the tone of the engine lowers dramatically. Dr. Andrews beckons for me to follow. I step woozily from the craft while my legs gripe about the amount of sitting I’ve done today. Dr. Andrews gently applies pressure to the top of my back to impel me to crouch beneath the slowing blades of the helicopter. The act is unnecessary, but it is touching, nonetheless. In my sneakers, I barely reach five feet tall. This is just another bit of mother-henning from the good doctor.

Once I can stand upright again, I extend my cane to explore my surroundings. After I have reached a distance where the noise of the helicopter stops being the dominant experience, curiosity gets the better of me. Speaking loudly, in hopes that my voice will be understood over the concussive sound of the whirling blades, So, where are we now?

Welcome to Dinosaur Island, he says in a grand manner. 

I can’t help but laugh with him at the ridiculous comment.

We are in the grand city of Waxahachie, Texas. This is the site of America’s very own supercollider. We call it Desertron. After a moment he adds with a chuckle, That one is real. While most of the facility is underground. During your internship, you’ll rarely need to come out here. We mostly just stay down below.

I prefer to stay out of the sun. 

Then you’ll get along just fine. We’ll go in here. I have your credentials for security.

The new room smells sterile. The sound of feet shuffling nearby lets me know that there are at least a few other people near me.

Mamm, please have a seat.

I do not recognize this voice and I wish to obey, but where is the chair?

Over here, Erika

Following Dr. Andrew’s voice, my cane taps on an object which I assume to be the chair. Reaching down and measuring with my hands, it feels sturdy enough.

Please be patient, this is a standard security checkpoint here.

Please remove your shoes and socks.

Again, I obey the command, trying hard to not feel violated.

Your cane, uhm, Ms. Ward.

Handing him my lifeline, I must trust that he will soon return my cane to me.

Do you have any metal in or on you? Any tattoos? He continues reading through a checklist which I nod my head on everything.

Here, take my hand and follow. Oh, and put that ring in here.

Again, I obey. He leads me a short distance. It feels like we are in another room, as the pressure feels slightly different in here.

The guard leads my hand to a solid surface near waist level.

Lay down here, please.

The table is hard and uncomfortable.

​Lift your legs, please.

I do so.

​Ok, you can relax.

I put them back down on a pillow or similar object which the guard placed there. That brings this from a zero to a four on the comfort scale.

Ok, you are about to go through an MRI. Please remain as still as possible. You will hear loud clicking and banging, do not be alarmed. This process should take about fifteen minutes.

I feel something plastic and hard feeling slip into my hand. There appears to be a button on it, but I dare not push it.

If you become distressed, you can press this button to call for help. Do you have any questions?

No.

A few moments later, a whirring sound comes from beneath me, and the platform moves horizontally in the direction of my head.

Whirr...

CLAP, CLAP, CLAP…

POUND!

Knock… Knock… Knock… Knock… Knock… Knock… Knock… Knock…

This is a bit stressful, but I do my best to clear my mind, pacing my breathing and trying to find Zen. Before I know it, the sound stops, and the table slides in the direction of my feet.

Very good, says the guard, take your time, but you can stand. Let me know if you need help and when you are ready to follow me back.

Steadily sitting up and then sliding my feet over the ledge, my breathing resumes at a normal pace and this whole situation seems far less stressful. Following his advice, we return to the other room.

Dr. Andrews says to me as we enter the room, I know this seems to be horrible rigmarole, but it is completely necessary for the safety of the facility. That is why we rarely leave while we are on our two-month stints. Anytime we leave and come back in, we must endure that process again. I’ve worked here for years, but they still put me through the Dreamer.

Dreamer?

Digital reamer. It’s just one of our little jokes. We need a sense of humor around here. It’s easy to get buggy underground. We are starting a new stint so most of your comrades will be freshly coming in. You’ll notice the stress after a few weeks under. If you start to get upset, please go see the shrink. We must send some people home early because they can’t handle the conditions of the lab. 

The guard returns my belongings and then informs us that we are now able to enter the elevator. 

Dr. Andrews takes my arm and guides me into the waiting elevator. As touching as his concern is, I know that I will soon have to have a serious talk with Dr. Andrews. I don’t need or want to be treated like a baby and I sincerely hope that the other people here don’t follow his lead. Enduring this every day, I wouldn’t survive the summer mentally intact. I pat his hand on my arm and gently remove it.

​It’s easier to use my cane when both of my hands are free.

​Yes, yes. That seems very logical.

​How many levels is the facility?

​I’m afraid that answer is classified information. We don’t even have numbers on the elevator. When you have your ID card, the elevator will know which floor you have access to. You’ll be spending nearly all your time on the same floor. Each floor has identical amenities: a gym, cafeteria, and communal area. You’ll get well acquainted with your floormates. Don’t worry though, your room and bathroom are private. It is the resident’s responsibility to keep their quarters tidy.

This is a lot to process all at once. It almost feels like a prison instead of a laboratory. In for a penny though, I might as well enjoy the experience while I’m here. Where would I go anyway?

There are some rules here. All cellular devices will be locked down until you leave. Your computer use will be closely watched, and there will be no opportunities to use external email. We can’t be too careful. There is important work being done here. Particularly important work that cannot be compromised.

The elevator ride seems to take forever. We must be deep in the bowels of the earth. Even though the information is classified, I can’t help but wonder how far down we are. The doors finally open and the hall seems to be moderately lit. With my dark glasses on, I feel wonderfully comfortable. A light breeze is flowing down the hall. I catch hints of green grass and flowers. I suppose the fresh air helps to keep morale up. Dr. Andrews draws my attention to a brightly colored, glowing square on the wall. These squares have information written in braille. I can use these to help me find my way.

We stop at a check-in station. This is where I will start and end every shift. Here is where I meet a woman with a sweet voice. She hands me a dossier. Inside are my credentials, badge, and the background knowledge that my classification status grants me. Tracing my hand swiftly across them brings a sweet surprise. These documents have been printed in braille. So far, this place will receive an A+ from the Americans with Disability Act. Am I their first ‘special’ hire? I hope that I’m wanted for my abilities and not for my disabilities. Regardless, they have me now. It’s time to prove my worth.

Further down the hall, I’m shown to my living quarters. My door has two small, raised bumps on the knob. This will ensure that I’m in the right room. I use my card key to open the door. 

If you lose your key card, let someone know at once. Your entire life and reputation are tied to it. You’ll find a lanyard in your room. You can use it to wear the card around your neck. That’s how the rest of us do it. You can take a few hours to rest while I welcome some of the others. We’ll have orientation in a few hours.

Time to explore my new place. The sterility of the room greets my nostrils. It’s almost like a hospital. The furniture seems like the things that I had back home in Salt Lake. The light level is low enough to not induce migraines, but it adequately provides simple positioning of larger objects throughout the room. It’s barebones here, but the lack of clutter is very good. They have thought much about my needs. 

Soon discovering a small hallway with a door on each side. Behind the first door is a bathroom. Pretty standard fare here. The other room is a bedroom. The bed feels comfortable. In the corner is a small closet. I can feel a few lab coats hanging among a multitude of empty hangers. That’s handy. 

Well, getting to know this room happens a lot quicker than imagined. Silence echoes through the room and bounces around inside my head. The sofa offers comfort and welcomes me into its embrace, providing ample time to sit and think. I’ll likely be doing a lot of that here. The apartment is so thoughtfully laid out that I won’t have to use my cane here. The lights react to my movement within the room and are set in a perfect ambient setting. 

Taking off Aiden’s wedding band and placing it on the nightstand next to my bed, I take a quick shower. The water pressure is amazing and offers a warm massage, it also saps my energy.

Back in the living room, I wonder what I should do now? I could go out and explore but sitting and resting seems so much more tempting now. I wonder how Aiden is taking this. I am missing him already. Part of me aches to call him and tell him about my trip so far. I’m nervous about meeting my coworkers. I don’t want to think about that right now. There’ll be plenty of time for that later. I wonder for a moment if the computer here works like my own at home. I ask it to Play 90s alternative music. The room fills with a familiar song. I sit back on the couch and try to relax as Alice in Chains plays. 

◆◆◆

Catastrophe

The music pauses, Dr. Andrews is at the door.

Huh, what? Shaking the grogginess away, awareness crashes around me. The new room. The sofa. I had zonked out.

The computer politely reminds me, Dr. Andrews is at the door.

Uhm, ok. Stop the music, please. Duh, the music has already stopped. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes and sitting up, Come in!

Light spills into the room from the hallway for just a moment. Dr. Andrews' shadow thankfully blocks a good deal of the light. Good afternoon.

Hi, Dr. Andrews. I yawn and try to shake the grogginess away, I’m sorry. I had a nap.

He chuckles warmly. He says, That’s no problem. We are about to start our orientation.

Okay. Uhm, I just need a moment to get ready.

No problem, I’ll be waiting out here. We have about fifteen minutes.

Not wanting to be even more of a burden, I hop up and feel my way to the bathroom.

Grab a lab coat from your closet; it’s a dress code standard, here.  I’ll wait for you outside. The door shuts, banishing the unwelcome and harsh light from the hallway.

I sigh heavily before plodding to the bathroom to gaze at the monster in the mirror. Of course, my eyes can’t even make out any detail, just a broad, dark, and fuzzy shape. She must look crazy. Probably pale, almost translucent like a specter. My crazy white hair is bunched in the back; wild and messed like a banshee. Washing the traveling muck from my face leaves a refreshing feeling. I quickly brush on a new layer of UV protection makeup adding some basic color to my cheeks and lips. That should be good enough. I wet the brush and use it to tame my wild and still slightly damp hair into a respectable ponytail. Hopefully, they will deliver my clothes soon. I imagine the dress code does not allow jeans. Not wanting to make Dr. Andrews wait any longer, I grab a lab coat from my closet and leave the room.

The light in the hallway is much brighter than in my room. I slide on my dark glasses to protect my eyes. While ultraviolet light will burn me up, moderate light or brighter induces migraines. With proper makeup and dress, coupled with these