I gave my invitation card to the agent screening the candidates, proud that my hand didn’t shake despite my nervousness. Plastic and completely dark, you’d never guess its purpose if you’d stumbled on it by accident. The agent waved the card in front of a scanner, then stared at his screen for a second before examining my features. He didn’t smile but kept the same neutral, professional expression his other colleagues also had plastered on their faces. Seemingly satisfied, he handed the black card back to me.
“A non-disclosure agreement was given to you along with your invitation to participate in the program, another copy of which has been handed to you upon arrival. Have you read and understood it?” the agent asked.
“Yes, Sir. I have read and understood it,” I answered.
“If you consent, please look straight into the camera. When the red light turns on, state your full name and that you agree to abide by the terms of the NDA as spelled out in the document.”
I turned towards the round camera hooked to some kind of rod. The camera moved up by a few centimeters to align with the center of my face before a red light turned on, indicating it was recording.
“My name is Naima Connors, and I agree to abide by the terms of the Fourth Division’s Mist Project non-disclosure agreement.”
The red light turned off.
“Thank you. Please proceed to the next station,” the agent said, gesturing at the counter near the two full-body scanners blocking the access to whatever awaited us beyond.
I gave him a stiff smile and nodded before complying. Another man welcomed me at the counter.
“Please give me your invitation card and all personal electronic devices you are carrying, including smart watches, phones, cameras, tablets, and anything else with the ability to record videos, audios, or images,” the man said without preamble.
We had already been warned against bringing any such items as we wouldn’t be able to keep them with us. I had only brought my phone, which I handed over to him. An exhaustive list of all other things that weren't permitted were outlined on a display panel sitting on top of the counter. The agent placed the phone in a brown envelope, asked me if that was all, then sealed the envelope once I confirmed there was nothing else. The seal looked like a small chip. The agent waved my card over it, causing it to beep.
“Your phone will be returned to you upon your departure at the end of the Mist,” the man said. “Any metal items on you, such as keys, should be placed in this container along with your bag,” he added.
He placed my card inside a large, rectangular tray, similar to those found at airports, then pushed it my way for me to put my overnight bag in and other items. While its contents were being scanned, a female agent had me step through the full-body scanner. As I waited to recover my bag, I glanced at the other candidates going through the same process I just had.
A million questions ran through my mind as I wondered who they were and what had brought them here. I still didn't quite understand how I personally had qualified. But these questions would soon be answered.
Or would they?
Another agent ushered me down a long hallway. So long in fact that it turned into a moving walkway. I hated that there were no windows allowing us to look outside. In a few minutes, the city defense sirens would blare throughout every town, in every country, and at the same exact moment. Then the Mist would rise, swallowing up the world in a thick fog filled with nightmarish creatures for the next three days.
This year marked the fifteenth anniversary of the dreadful day that changed the world. No one knew exactly what had caused the tearing of the Veil, which opened portals between our world and the mysterious one of the Mist. Then again, we all believed our governments were somehow involved. It had likely been some experiment gone wrong. Naturally, no one confessed. However, considering every single country on the planet had been hit, conspiracy theories implied it had been a concerted effort by our worldwide leaders. The alternative, that a single country was the culprit would give it an even greater incentive to keep quiet. If it was ever exposed, that country would never recover from the reparations the rest of the world would demand.