I am so excited to share this new idea with the world. I'm still writing Strange Days, and I intend to alternate sessions between the two tales. But here's Project Endeavor, an idea inspired partly by one of my college courses. You'll see how further in the story.
As usual, feedback is greatly appreciated, and if you enjoy this story, feel free to check out Strange Days as wel.
Current music: Want U Back - Cher Lloyd
Late one evening during her thirty-sixth year, a woman sat at a desk, hunched over her laptop like a much older person.
She feverishly pecked away at the keys, barely stopping to look up and make sure she was typing correctly. There was no time to waste - she feared that if she didn't commit as many of her thoughts to digital paper as possible, she'd forget to do so.
Yes, that looks right. Yeah, that sounds okay.
The doctor had to walk a fine line. She couldn't hide everything, or else her close confidants wouldn't trust her. But she couldn't exactly disclose every detail either, because this project had to be shrouded in secrecy. It was to be a mysterious endeavor.
Wait a minute… project… endeavor. Ah, those words sound roughly synonymous. Who cares, still?
Despite the air conditioning working its way through the apartment at full blast, the woman perspired profusely. It didn't help that the weather outside was frightful - but not the way that old Christmas song suggested. A tropical paradise sounded like heaven until you actually had to live there.
"Haley!" a gruff voice bellowed from the nearest doorway.
The woman swiveled around in her chair, facing her husband. "Yes, Francis, what is it?"
"Aren't you going to meet me in bed? It's almost midnight, and I'm absolutely bushed."
Haley sighed. "You aren't a child anymore, Francis. I don't need to tuck you in every night. You can make do just this once without cuddles."
"But it's not a matter of just this once," Francis complained. "You've been staying up late more often than not. And I mean really late. This isn't like you, Haley."
"Well, it is now," Haley responded curtly. "When we made our wedding vows, we promised we would respect one another's boundaries, among other things. I would like to stay up late tonight, so that's exactly what I'm going to do."
"But why, Haley? As a doctor, you're required to work under pressure all the time - wouldn't you rather be wide awake for whatever it is you have to do?"
"That's another thing, Francis," Haley responded. "You don't know this, since you're not a doctor, but you can adjust to almost anything you must. Working under pressure means doing things with less than a good night's sleep. But they still have to be done."
"Perhaps," Francis said. "But don't you want to relax in bed with me? If you don't want to go to sleep, we could stay up watching Pokeflix or something. I've heard that Home On the Ranch is pretty popular these days."
Haley shook her head, twirling her right index finger in an exasperated manner. "It's not like that, honey. I would love to cuddle you tonight. Unfortunately, I have other things I need to be doing. You know, that's part of what being a doctor entails."
Francis sighed audibly. "Well, I guess I'll still be here in the morning. But I'll have to go to the office in eight hours, anyway. Don't you want some more precious time with me?"
His wife twirled her white blonde ponytail around a few times. "Again, Francis, I ask you to respect my privacy tonight. I will speak to you when I am ready to do so."
Haley regretted these words pretty quickly. As she glanced out the window at the always-chaotic streets of Moraga City, she heard her husband gasp.
"Haley… you're not… don't even think about…".
"I am not having an affair, Francis," Haley snapped. "If you want to pursue this possibility, I'll turn over all my records. But you'll just have to trust me."
"It's not that I don't trust you," Francis replied. "I'm just curious."
"In that case, I don't even know why we are having this talk," his wife said coolly. "Go to bed, Francis. I'll join you soon enough."
Her husband grumbled a little, but then let out a great sigh and left the room, presumably to return to their shared bedroom. Haley sighed too, grateful to have her husband out of the way.
She could still see in Francis the man she'd fallen in love with, but Haley couldn't deny that they'd grown apart in the years since their wedding. They were over the honeymoon phase, for sure, and it was all downhill from here.
But she couldn't worry about that right now. The task at hand was too important, too potentially momentous for humanity.
Perhaps she was deluding herself. Perhaps she had grown convinced that anything was morally permissible so long as it would advance the cause. Certainly, the action she'd decided to take was more than a little gutsy, to put it one way.
Haley kept on mashing the keys feverishly. Every so often she'd look away from the computer to prevent eyestrain, but she'd only do so for a second or two. And then she'd be right back at it, careful to ensure that she didn't type a single letter wrong.
Every so often, she would delete a sentence whenever it was somewhere she felt it didn't belong. Haley would do this a dozen times, maybe even a hundred times, just to make sure the contents of the document were as accurate as possible. Of course, accuracy was less important than precision of language, but it still mattered.
Finally, at about two in the morning, dark spots danced in front of Haley's eyes, and there were no doubt dark circles beneath them, but she leaned back in satisfaction. She'd done it.
Maybe I should wait until morning to proofread it, Haley thought to herself. Of course, it's technically morning right now; I guess I should say "until I wake up."
But if Francis wakes up before me, he might well discover what I've been writing. And that must not happen, because if it does, our marriage is in serious trouble.
Some people, of course, would have said that their love was in jeopardy just thanks to Haley daring to keep something so crucial away from her husband. If it was a symptom of deeper problems, though, Haley didn't want to think about it.
So she glanced back at the document and read over its contents:
"In the name of science."
Those words have been invoked time and time again to justify atrocities, but I do not intend to excuse those actions by writing this document. On the contrary, if science is to be utilized for any cause, it only makes sense to use it to lift people up, not bring them down.
It is to that end that I have an exciting announcement to make.
It is said that you purchase a lottery ticket when you're born. To use that analogy, some people win the jackpot - they are given genes that enable them to live very long lives indeed, sometimes in excess of a century. Others, unfortunately, are less lucky; they experience short, painful lives in order to die long, painful deaths.
Why some people get shafted in this lottery, that is information only Arceus up above is privy to. Until it is time for us all to meet Him, the answers will remain a secret to everybody. But that doesn't mean we can't change some things on Nexus.
For the first time in the history of both humankind and Pokekind, we are saying that enough is enough. I, Dr. Haley Wexford of Moraga City, declare that the days of allowing the populace to exist at the mercy of the genetic lottery are over.
So what is to be done about it?
To answer this question, one needs only to look at the creatures we are blessed to share this planet with. If a boy is born blind, the eagle eyes of a Braviary may enable him to see for the first time. If a girl loses the ability to hear, an Alakazam's keen sense of sound can be transfused into her, which will enable her to once more be part of the "hearing world."
This task will not be easy. Any number of forces will attempt to stop us, and I may be accused of "playing Arceus." But just because reality is the way it is, that doesn't mean we can't try to change it. And change is what this world requires.
There will be limitations at first, of course. We will have to work our way up to the most life-changing interventions, simply because the project only consists of myself and a select few friends at present. But as our team grows, so will the range of conditions we can treat, as well as the scale of the program.
It will be a difficult project, but as the saying goes: Ancient civilizations weren't built in a day. Modern civilizations certainly weren't. It took the meticulous, arduous work of thousands of people to get as far as we have today. Much like sending a Pokémon into space, this is our moonshot.
Welcome to Project Endeavor.
Haley read over the document several times, though by now her eyes were completely glazed over, to the point where she had difficulty seeing the page. For a relatively short manifesto, it had certainly taken a long time to write.
The extra time was very much needed. Now I just need to send it to everyone on my list.
The "list", of course, consisted only of the medical professionals whom Haley trusted the most. They would not betray the project to the world; that is, not until the scope had grown sufficiently to where they could say "they can't arrest all of us."
Truth be told, though, arrest was a risk Haley felt willing to take. When it comes to life-changing, sometimes life-saving medical interventions, the ends justify the means.
After sending the emails, Haley yawned. Being a pediatrician wasn't exactly the type of occupation conducive to a healthy sleep schedule, but this was far later than even she normally remained awake. She now had two options.
Did she stay at the computer, eyes glued to the screen as she typed up the non-disclosure agreement? Or did she go to bed and hope she still felt motivated in the morning?
It was getting increasingly challenging to keep her eyes open, so the decision wasn't a hard one.
I guess I'll go to bed.