by R F Hurteau
“Oh.”
Eli realized that he could not remember the last time he’d even entered Mabel’s bedroom. Probably not since they’d first moved in.
“You made that for me?” she said, her eyes widening as she caught sight of the tray. “Wow. I’m impressed, Eli.”
“It’s not a big deal,” he told her with a shrug, though he was pleased.
She moved to her bed and plopped down on the green coverlet, pulling her legs up and slapping her knees to indicate her readiness to receive the unexpected offering.
The bed was made, something Eli never bothered to do. Beneath her viewer a short shelf held the few treasures she’d kept from life in the city. A cloth doll wearing bright festival clothes leaned against a simple picture frame which held a photo of Eli, Mabel and their parents. Beside that was a plastic, faded figurine of a horse. It stood, teetering on three legs, the fourth broken off just above the knee.
Mabel had always loved that horse. She’d taken it with her everywhere long after other girls her age had ceased carrying toys around.
Eli frowned, remembering with shame the first night they’d come to this house. How he’d raged, storming about and throwing things and complaining how life wasn’t fair. He didn’t remember picking up the horse, but he remembered the sound it had made as it hit the wall. And he remembered the sobering sound of Mabel’s sobbing.
Though his sister had been quick to forgive, Eli had not. He’d worked hard since then to control his outbursts. He felt that, for the most part, he’d done a fair job. The anger was always there, but he managed to keep it bottled up more often than not. He didn’t do it because he worried what people would think or what might happen to him; he did it because he didn’t like to see Mabel in pain.
Especially pain that he’d caused.
“Well?” Mabel prompted, pulling him back from his musings. “It’s getting cold!”
“Sorry.”
He handed her the tray and sat at the foot of the bed.
Mabel had done her best to make this room her own. Sheer violet curtains adorned the window, and a small powder blue desk in the corner was carefully arranged with all of the art supplies she brought home from her apprenticeship at the Tender Youth childcare center. Located not far from Eli’s place of work, it served as a day care for the children of factory workers on the northern half of the industrial ring.
When she’d first started coming home with pockets full of crayons and pastels, Eli had asked if she’d stolen them. She’d explained that she spent most of her day drawing with the children, and because the teachers liked her work so much, they were always giving her supplies to take home.
Eli, too, had to admit that she was an impressive artist. She might have been even better if she’d had more than crayons and scrap paper to work with.
“I thought you were sleeping in.”
Mabel shook her head and held up a finger as she finished chewing and swallowed. “No.”
He waited for her to elaborate, but instead she popped another wedge of peach into her mouth and began to slice open the roll he’d brought up, the scent of yeast carried toward him by the rising steam as she slathered it in peanut butter.
“So then, if you weren’t sleeping, why are you hiding out in here?” He reached toward one of the peach slices, but she smacked his hand away.
“Working.”
She flashed him a coy smile between bites.
Eli raised an eyebrow. “It’s our day off. I thought we would be able to spend some time together. “
“We can. I just wanted to get my ideas organized so I could share them with you first.”
This statement intrigued Eli. He was about to ask what ideas she was talking about when the intercom chimed.
Mabel cocked her head. “Someone’s here.” Her face betrayed concern as she placed her half-finished tray down on the bed.
Eli’s muscles tensed.
“Are you expecting someone?” he asked, finding his voice coming out in a low whisper.
She raised her shoulders and shook her head.
“No, no one.”
“I’ll go see who it is,” Eli told her, putting a hand on her knee to stop her from getting up. “I’ll be right back.”
The chime came again, more insistent this time.
Eli took the stairs two at a time, a tight knot growing in his stomach. They were not accustomed to unannounced visitors. He was trying to stay calm, but his mind kept dredging up flashes of the black-clad Enforcers from the marketplace.
Still, he’d done nothing wrong. At least, nothing he could recall. And he imagined that Enforcers wouldn’t have the decency announce themselves like this.
Would they?
He hesitated for a moment at the door before unlocking it. It slid away, revealing a vaguely familiar young man just outside, his hand poised as if to ring for a third time.
Seeing Eli, the man broke into a grin.
“Eli!” he exclaimed. “I was worried you wouldn’t be home. I checked your schedule and it said you were off today, but I didn’t know if you’d have plans...”
The man didn’t wait for an invitation, brushing past Eli and moving into the living area.
“So this is the inside of a corporate orphan apartment, eh? It’s not so bad. I’ve heard rumors, but people are always exaggerating these types of things, you know?”
It took a moment for the voice and the face to register in Eli’s shocked mind.
“Shane?”
Shane glanced back over his shoulder, the wide smile still on his face growing, if possible, even wider.
“Hey! You remembered! I figured, you know, with your head and all...” He shrugged, moving past the kitchen island to peer out the back window, hands deep in his pocket. “Not much of a view, huh? That’s okay. You should see my place. I have to share it with seven other guys, and none of them shower as often as they should.”
Eli struggled to find words appropriate for the situation.
Not once since he and Mabel had moved here had he ever seen anyone from the city in the corporate orphan ward. Much less a member of the military.
He wondered how many of the other kids had been terrified by Shane’s approach, cowering in their homes as he strolled down the street, taking in the sights like a tourist on vacation.
“Shane,” he asked tentatively, “not to be rude, but...what are you doing here?”
“Oh!” Shane said, looking as if he were surprised it wasn’t obvious. “I came to check on you, is all. I wanted to see how you were holding up. I stopped by Farway’s lab the next day,” here Shane gave an exaggerated shudder that almost brought a smirk to Eli’s lips, “but you’d already gone. So I asked for the rest of the week’s schedule and saw we both were off today. And I figured, you know, I’d just come here. See what it’s like out here for you Corp Orps. That’s what we call you, by the way. I think it sounds kinda neat. Corp Orp. Heh. Try it, it’s fun to say.”
“You figured...” Eli licked his upper lip, his brow now furrowed. “Shane, nobody just comes here. It’s the last stop on the Maglev, and there’s nothing out here but us. You wasted your money, and your time.”
Shane’s smile wavered and hurt flashed in his puppy dog eyes.
“I don’t think it was a waste of time,” he answered in a more subdued tone. “I like visiting new places.”
Feeling torn between anger at Shane’s ignorance about the plight of the corporate orphans and gratitude that someone—anyone—had cared enough to come see how he was feeling, Eli stood in stunned silence, afraid to open his mouth.
“Eli, who is it?” Mabel demanded, descending from upstairs and stopping to lean over the railing and peer curiously at Shane. She gave him a warm smile of welcome. “Oh! Hello!”
Shane went oddly silent for a moment, swallowing hard. He seemed as shocked by Mabel’s appearance as Eli had been shocked by his.
“Hello,” he said at last, drawing out the word as if it were difficult to speak.
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“I’m Mabel,” Mabel said, coming the rest of the way down. “Are you a friend of Eli’s? Have you eaten breakfast? I can make you something. Make yourself at home!”
She gestured to the sofa, and Shane moved toward it without taking his eyes off her.
Eli, meanwhile, glared at his sister, shaking his head as discreetly as he was able. He was in no mood to host guests just now.
“He’s not my—” he began, before Shane found his voice once more.
“We work together,” Shane cut in. “Well, sort of. I mean, we work in close proximity, at least. I knocked him out the other day, and I wanted to come see how he was doing.”
“That was you?” Mabel asked, raising an eyebrow. Her face was stern, but Eli recognized mischief beneath the look.
Shane, unfamiliar with Mabel, saw no such playful undertones and blanched.
“I don’t know what he told you, but I swear, it was an accident. I didn’t mean to...it just slipped...” his mouth worked for a few moments before he finished with a pitiful, “really heavy.”
Mabel laughed, waving a hand at him.
“I wasn’t worried,” she said. “As you can see, he’s fine. And there’s been more than one occasion where I’d have liked to have knocked him out myself.”
Relief washed over Shane’s face and he leapt up from the sofa, his original exuberance restored.
“Great!”
Seeming to question his own response, he shot a glance at Eli and added, “That you’re feeling better, I mean. Not that your girlfriend wants to knock you out.”
Mabel, who had been sipping water, doubled over, spluttering and looking as though she were having trouble breathing. Alarmed, Shane made to approach her.
Eli frowned.
“That’s my sister, Shane, not my girlfriend.”
Seemingly torn between rendering assistance to Mabel and responding to Eli’s pronouncement, Shane looked helplessly back and forth.
“Sorry,” he said after Mabel got her laughter under control. “You just look about the same age, and I thought—”
“We are the same age,” Mabel told him. “Twins.”
Shane squinted, appearing skeptical. “You don’t look anything alike.”
“Fraternal twins don’t have to look alike,” Eli explained. He did not have the patience for a science lesson, and he was eager to move the conversation forward.
“Oh,” Shane said with a nod of understanding, as if he’d known this all along. “Well, I was wondering if you had any plans today? For your day off?”
“Yes,” replied Eli.
“No,” said Mabel at the same time.
Once again, Shane’s expression was bewildered.
“Oh...kay...” he said. “Well, the thing is, I’m shipping out tomorrow. We’re taking the Belenus project to Antarctica. And a bunch of the guys were organizing a game of baseball and I thought I’d see if you wanted to come along, Eli. Of course, you’re welcome, too, Mabel.”
“We’d love to!” Mabel answered before Eli could respond.
He glared at her, trying to convey words with expression alone. She saw him, understood, and gave him another of her mischievous smiles.
His meaning had been received, and summarily dismissed.
Shane chattered all the way to the Maglev station, so caught up in his monologue that Eli was able to lag behind a few steps, jerking Mabel by the arm to draw her back alongside him.
“What is going on here?”
He kept his voice low, not wanting to draw Shane’s attention.
“Since when do we hang out with military recruits?”
Mabel’s face was innocent. “We knew a few military kids in the city,” she whispered back, protesting.
“We aren’t in the city anymore, Mabel. We aren’t their equals, no matter how nice Shane might appear to be. It’s just an act. I don’t know what the point of it is, but it’s not real. I’m warning you, we shouldn’t be doing this. We should remember our place.”
Mabel’s eyes went a little darker.
“I’ve never forgotten our place,” she hissed. “I just don’t accept that where we live and who we are should dictate who we’re friends with, that’s all. It’s wrong. Aren’t you the one always crowing about social injustice? Or is that only when it’s convenient to your topic?”
Eli couldn’t argue with that, and Mabel shook him off, jogging to catch back up with Shane, who had been so absorbed in whatever he was saying that he hadn’t even noticed her brief absence.
As they boarded, the conductor dipped his head in acknowledgement of Shane. When he turned to the twins, he wore his typical hungry expression. As he reached out to take their fare, Shane turned around with an expression of shock.
“Oh, no,” he said. “They’re with me.”
The conductor looked surprised, and perhaps a little disappointed, as the twins followed Shane to the back of the car.
“You don’t have to pay fare?” Mabel asked in awe.
Shane grinned.
“Next Level pays them,” he said, tapping twice behind his right ear. “We have chips that ping at checkpoints all over the world, so that we’re easy to find. It also works as a sort of company tab for things like transportation. The conductor will add you to the tab. Don’t worry, this trip is on the military.”
His chuckle was airy, carefree.
Eli could not help but think about all the corporate orphans whose last trip was also “on the military.”
“You don’t think that’s a little creepy?” Eli asked, knowing he should keep his mouth shut.
Mabel shot him a glare, but he ignored her. She was the only reason he was here. This was on her.
“That they can track you like that?”
“Well,” Shane said, tilting his head to one side as he pondered this, “it’s not really tracking, I don’t think. It’s not a GPS. It doesn’t give off any sort of signal until it’s in range of a scanner. So they can tell where we’ve been, but not exactly where we are, you know?”
“Isn’t that close enough?” Eli reasoned. “You like having a beacon in your head? And what kind of frequency are we talking from these scanners? What if it gives you brain cancer or something? Or what if they can switch it on and control you like a puppet?”
Shane gave Eli a long, blank stare, then smiled warmly.
“I like you, Eli. You’re funny.”
Eli heard Mabel’s sigh of relief as he slumped back against the hard plastic seat, defeated, once again, by the ineptitude of his opponent.
Next Level might employ top level scientists, but the soldiers they churned out weren’t exactly prized for their intellect.
“So,” Mabel took advantage of the silence to change the subject. “Antarctica, huh?”
Shane’s eyes lit up. “Yeah! The whole Belenus team will be in one place for the first time. We’re all pretty excited to see the pieces coming together.”
Mabel frowned. “I didn’t get to see the Belenus presentation on Ross Day,” she said, her eyes flitting sideways toward Eli, who looked away.
“Aw, that’s too bad.” Shane’s expression was crestfallen, but then he perked up. “I can tell you about it, if you’d like.”
“I would like!”
“Well, see, it all started because of the arable land popping up in Antarctica,” Shane began.
Eli snorted, and Mabel kicked him. Shane didn’t seem to notice.
“Suddenly we have a lot of space, right? But the problem is the sun. They don’t get much of it down there. So the land is pretty useless as it stands.”
The land wasn’t useless when it was covered in ice, moderating the world’s climate.
But Eli didn’t want to be kicked again, so he remained silent, letting his bitterness stew.
“Belenus will solve that problem,” Shane said, eyes flashing with obvious pride. “I mean, not right away, but eventually.”
“How?” Mabel asked, her excitement clear in her voice.
“I
t’s a combination of things,” Shane said, and here he became somewhat vague. “Basically, we’re building a tiny artificial sun using a bunch of new technologies. It’s like a big satellite that utilizes white solar tech and huge reflectors and follows a special orbit. It’ll give the whole region normal days during the dark season, allowing us to live and grow in all these places that used to be uninhabitable! Neat, right?”
The words, no doubt company indoctrination, eerily echoed the end of the speech that Mabel and Eli had caught during the festival.
Something about the situation gnawed at him as Shane spoke, and when he realized what it was, curiosity got the best of him.
“What’s Next Level’s involvement in this?” he asked, not bothering to mask his suspicious tone. “Why are you on this project? You’re just a soldier, aren’t you?”
“Eli!” Mabel said reproachfully. “Just a soldier? That came off a little rude, don’t you think?”
“No,” Shane said, his face going serious. “It’s okay. I get it. Us military guys, we aren’t exactly known for our...mental acuity.”
The mere fact that Shane had just used the term “mental acuity” forced Eli to re-examine his accusations.
“No, she’s right. I’m sorry.”
Shane waved him off. “Forget about it, Eli.”
He looked out the window. Eli watched his blue eyes tracking the blurred landscape as it passed them by. He’d almost forgotten he’d asked a question until Shane provided an answer.
“Next Level developed a few of the pieces, that’s all,” he said, as if speaking to the window. “Some of it’s military tech, converted for the public sector. They want to keep an eye on their investments. White Solar in particular. It was designed for use in the dead zones. A versatile and efficient power source. I’m part of the team assigned to accompany the tech on its way. Make sure it doesn’t get any unwanted attention, that sort of thing. Seems almost pointless now that the word is out, but I’m not one to question my assignment. I go where they tell me, they make sure I get paid. Everyone’s happy.”
There was a long, awkward pause. Feeling guilty, Eli now felt obliged to keep the conversation alive.
“What exactly is ‘White Solar’?”