Searching For Andromeda 4 The Handpicked Task Force

"Annoying childish teen."

"Hag,"

"Immature!"

"Uncharismatic nerd."

"Why, you—jerk!"

"Now, now . . . isn't this a tad too much? It's like both of you are third graders . . ." says Berthold both to Samuel and Esmeralda. "I mean, look at your actions, two of you . . ."—Berthold smiles at Ephraim, who smiled back at him lifelessly. It was like he was watching the neighborhood children throw a tantrum, and unleash premature fits—Ephraim couldn't quite infer how he would react to such monstrosity. This was beyond his expertise; he was an archeologist, and a young man buried in books. He wasn't a child-pleaser. He had difficulty dealing with children because he did not have siblings—and his cousins were all older than he was. Staring at the arguing Samuel and Esmeralda looked a lot like how children fought—one with a c.o.c.ky smirk and one who was fuming with cheeks puffing out.

It was already a matter of time before the president could come storming inside his office—and only to see this kind of thing. Ephraim couldn't quite figure out what to do exactly at situations like this. He was trained to decipher codes, read ancient languages and hieroglyphics; he was accustomed to mines and was adept in examining the minuscule details in a certain object. He was trained to amalgamate pieces of lost puzzles. He learned how to do what adventurers and archaeologists do, like the ones on those movies—he wasn't a guy from a reality show taking care of children.

"Ahem,"

Ephraim soon snapped back from his thoughts and turned around. Standing before the opened door was a smiling Georgian Denmark, the president of the academe. He had a rich smile over his face as he observed the entirety of the s.p.a.ce. Samuel and Esmeralda soon stopped bantering, and even Hiroaki turned to pay the president his attention.

"Go-g-good evening, Mr. President!" Esmeralda Sanders was the first one to break the silence. She soon walked towards the direction of the president and shook his hand. He smiled at her, and her green eyes gleamed. "It's an honor to meet you, Sir!"

"It's an honor to meet you as well, Miss Sanders." The president flashed a charming smile, and Ephraim was a hundred percent sure the president looked gleaming. He had a white suit and his hair was slicked back neatly. His body had toned, buff muscles and he looked like a retired adventurer celebrating his long-returned journey. The president's blue eyes met that of Ephraim's.

"h.e.l.lo there, Ephraim."

"President," Ephraim nods.

The President examines the whole room, eyeing them one by one. "I see you're all here."

The president proceeded to walk inside his office, along with his butler. He was smiling as he sauntered; he sat to his chair which was before the gla.s.s pane, and then as if on cue, Ephraim's team gathered in front of his desk, even Hiroaki stood beside them. They were now facing the president, who was sitting like a monarch, eyeing his trusted warriors—at least, that's how Ephraim sees things.

"I trust you've all read the files thoroughly?"

"Absolutely,"

"Yes,"

All of them answered in chorus, except Hiroaki who just gave a simple nod.

"Is there any question you'd like to ask?"

Silence.

"I," Ephraim starts, "I have a question at mind."

"What is it, team leader?"

Ephraim nods, "I was a.s.signed as the team leader, but I only had a biodata which gave me the likes and dislikes, blood type, profession, name, and a picture of the team members." He says. "Earlier as I talked to Samuel Albrecht, it seemed like he received a file where even my personal data including my achievements, date of birth, et cetera are stated."

"Well, of course, I'm the smartest and youngest among all of you," says Samuel. "What'd you expect? I had the special—"

"Wait, no, I received that too," Esmeralda says.

"Whaaaattt?!" Samuel exclaims.

"I also have the leader's detailed biodata," she says.

"Actually, me too," Berthold adds. "Ephraim's biodata is quite detailed for me, too. It's also stated how many languages he speaks, or how tall he is, and what he weighs. I also know his allergies."

"What?" Samuel frowns. "I didn't receive a biodata like that."

"I have the leader's biodata saying how he's afraid of rats, and his interaction with animals . . . like how he's unafraid of anything except rats. . ." Esmeralda states. "And it's also said on his biodata that he took an elective in zoology, a seminar in animal handling as well."

"I didn't have anything like that," Berthold says.

"H-how about this—did you guys have the leader's skills in lock picking? He had the record of fifteen tries before he gets it right. It's one of his weaknesses."

"Ooh, I didn't have that,"

"Me too."

"W-wait a second . . ." Ephraim raised his hand halfway. "I'm not sure I can follow, but why does the team know so much about me?"

The president smiled, "you're smart, Ephraim Hughes. You do the math. Now is the time to show your capabilities as the team leader. Decipher what had happened."

Ephraim pressed his lips to a thin line, realizing the team members did eye him with keen interest, waiting for what word he was going to utter.

"The team members got my biodata with corresponding information that befitted their skills and profession. For example, the data concerning my height, weight, and my allergies were given to the doctor because he was the one capable of discerning all things pertaining to health, am I right?"

"Correct," says the president. "And what of the irrelevant information such as how long you could lock pick, or how you had a zoology elective?"

"Esmeralda Sanders is a biology major, and I believe telling her my weakness about a certain animal explains a lot already. The zoology elective will make her know that there are things she needn't have to explain to me anymore."

"Ah, correct, once more." Says the president with a smile. "But the lock pick?"

"Samuel Albrecht is a researcher who's both a genius and a child," Ephraim mutters, and he hears a loud 'WHAT' from Samuel. "My skills in lock picking would make him think I am not a perfect leader and I am not superhuman, just like them. It was meant to make him overcome the pressure."

"Wh-what?! I'm not pressured or anything!"

"Correct." The president states. "You are indeed bright, Ephraim."

Ephraim smiles.

"But you seem to be forgetting something—Hiroaki Mochizuki," says the president, "I've a.s.signed him your biodata with a piece of priceless information."

Ephraim narrowed his eyes.

"It's a piece of priceless information regarding a certain year," says the president. "I presume you understand what year I am talking about?"

Ephraim paused and smiled.

"Certainly."

The president flashed a smile as well.

"Each of your members has a detailed description regarding you, Ephraim Hughes," says the president. "Yet there is one thing that is different."

"One thing that is different?"

"You are the only one who received each of your team's biodata." Says the president. "Your team only have yours."

"Meaning . . .?"

"They are all unaware of what the others' capabilities, except for their name and picture." The president's eyes drifted towards Ephraim's team. "I presume all of you had introduced yourselves to each other?"

"Well, I've known Samuel ever since he was a child, so he wasn't so much of a stranger to me." Says Berthold. "It was easy to talk to Miss Sanders, and Mr. Hiroaki was a well-known former sergeant, so it wasn't that hard to determine which is which,"

"Y-yes, that's right. I've been searching the net for their names the night I got the biodatas." Esmeralda exclaims. "I added Dr. Berthold Wagner already on Facebook,"

"Yes, I followed you on your Twitter as well," Berthold smiles at Esmeralda, whose cheeks reddened. "R-really? How?"

"Your Twitter and Instagram name is the same, right? I followed you," says Berthold. "It's just a sight to behold—you're both a Biologist and a world-famous—"

"Um, it's a secret!" Esmeralda exclaims, cutting the doctor mid-sentence.

"Oi," Samuel bellows lowly. "You both are aware you AREN'T the only ones here, right?"

"W-we're perfectly aware, Sam." Berthold declares. "In short, President, we are all pretty aware of each other. We've done our own research,"

The president nodded. "That's good to hear."—he entwines both of his fingers together—the right with several rings and the left with nothing. "You are all handpicked by a people I trust. These people believe in you, and I am aware that all of you possess different skills—and those skills will be of help to the team. You are a task force consisting of an archeologist, a biologist, a doctor, a researcher, and a former sergeant-in-arms. Each of you has his or her own advantage and disadvantage."

"ANDROMEDA is a subsidiary s.p.a.ce station—and it had research that deviated from NASA's prearranged task from them."

Ephraim and the team listened eagerly as the president spoke.

"ANDROMEDA sought to continue their research even if it strayed from the original task they should be working on. In short, from NASA's prearranged research for them, a new project was born. Both NASA's preset and ANDROMEDA's swerved research was top-secret. Even we do not know what it is. Several years ago, the academe started to fund the College of Archeology to figure that top-secret research. The academe has been searching for leads, even before I was a.s.signed as the president. The s.p.a.ce station was long gone, but ANDROMEDA's forensics lab was still intact. It was the only lead we could have. Former employees are now untraceable, some deceased, and some had no idea what the research was—after all, it was exclusive to the founder and its top researchers. NASA also was not that well-versed regarding ANDROMEDA's new project; however," the President leaned both of his knuckles parallel to his lips, his elbow supporting his propelled arm.

"The academe is certain that there is something valuable inside ANDROMEDA's forensics laboratory. From the preceding years, we a.s.signed our graduates whose grades have been below average—as per tradition. It was what the late president did. Nonetheless, one former professor, who is also a trusted friend of mine, told me to dismiss the last will of the late president and change our tactics. The graduates always came back empty-handed, with no valuable thing that is retrieved over the course of many years," the president explains. "This is why we gathered a task force handpicked by several people whom I trusted."

The president's eyes drifted to Ephraim's. "People who believe in all of you."

"But president," Esmeralda raised her hand. "I . . . I wasn't handpicked. I applied to this job myself."

Ephraim and the other proceeded to stare at Esmeralda.

"I heard this job vacancy was calling for Biologists—and I—there wasn't anyone to a.s.sign me to it. I was the one who came to process my papers to be accepted with the job . . . I'm different from these selected people here. . ."

"Esmeralda Sanders," the president flashed, again, a charismatic smile. "Don't you believe in yourself? You earned a spot in this task force because you believed in yourself. You are selected, and I've chosen you."

"P-president . . ."

"This job I am a.s.signing you isn't an easy one. The forensics laboratory is in the middle of nowhere, in the mountains of South America." The president says. "The abandoned lab is in Machu Picchu, Peru."

"Peru . . .!" Ephraim exclaims. "Hidden within the lush Peruvian mountains, the mystical city that remained a secret for ages . . . and now is the continent's best known archaeological site!"

"Yes, Ephraim Hughes." Says the President. "But it is not Peru you are going to investigate, but the uninhibited laboratory. Although it can be tempting, I want this team to focus on the task at hand. You will be given the ticket to Peru, and the Academe will provide you your gear, your fees, and the whole critical enchilada for this task in a few days. I want all of you to work hard and find that valuable thing. That project ANDROMEDA had been working on. And until then, I want you to prepare . . ." The president smiles. "And get along with each other."

"Get along with each other?" Samuel Albrecht contorted.

"Yes, Samuel," the president exclaims. "Because a team cannot function if the members and the leader do not get along. Before your departure, I hope all of you establish a good relations.h.i.+p with each other."

The president flashed the kindest smile. "And to wrap that up, why don't we all take our dinner? Tonight is a party, after all."