In being elected to the council, Mrs. Vandergaast had made it a point to make herself heard on nearly every issue, especially those concerning the conservation of natural resources and the sustainability of the community. Standing in the ring of chairs encircling the dirt floor, she was addressing the other eight members of the council as they sat. She was clearly enjoying her moment.
Normally, Mr. Philips led the meetings, but given it was his petition on the docket, Mrs. Vandergaast had been selected to bring it forward.
“Mr. Philips,” she began, nodding her head and waving her arm to the onlookers with a flourish, “did you put a motion forward to petition the council to allow shuttles to go back to Earth for the purpose of bringing additional colonists here, to Orsus?”
“I did,” Mr. Philips said, nodding casually.
Mrs. Vandergaast gave him an overcooked smile and a pleasant nod in return.
“And who would like to second the motion?” she added, addressing the crowd with the same flourish.
“I will,” Jane said, and Evelyn quickly snapped her head in time to see Jane’s wink and smile.
“Let the record show that Mr. Philips and his daughter, Ms. Philips, set forth the motion and the second.” Turning to address Mr. Philips, she added, “Mr. Philips, the floor is yours.”
Jane’s father stood, obviously relaxed in front of the crowd. Evelyn knew he had a lifetime of experience with public speaking—it went with the territory of being a world-class businessman. Sliding his shoulders back and placing a hand in his pocket, he smiled at the crowd.
“Well, friends,” he began, turning slowly to look at the crowd, a broad grin appearing on his confident face. “I think it’s about time we shared this … this … smell … with the rest of humanity.”
At this, the council members and the growing crowd all laughed, the pressure in the room easing as they looked around at one another, nodding their agreement.
“I mean, really … what is that smell anyway? I don’t know about you, but I think we need to go back to Earth just for the soap.”
More laughter from the crowd, and Evelyn felt her chest relax. As the laughter died away, Mr. Philips looked at Jane and Evelyn, and smiled.
“Everyone here knows that when we left Earth, I made the people a promise that we would return one day and offer them the same chance to make a life here with us. We have found our new home, and the smell notwithstanding, I think it’s about time we made good on that promise.”
At this, many in the crowd applauded, including some of the council members, though Evelyn noticed that Mrs. Vandergaast was conspicuously quiet.
“I propose that we send one shuttle to Earth on a scouting mission,” Jane’s father continued, “to bring back information to us about what has transpired in the six years we have been gone. With that information, we can come up with a plan for bringing others to Orsus.”
Again the crowd applauded, and Mr. Philips took his seat in the council.
“Is there anyone who would like to voice an opposition to Councilman Philips’s motion?” Mrs. Vandergaast asked, standing and looking at the other members of the council.
Evelyn watched the members and got an uneasy feeling, but she couldn’t put her finger on why. A few of the council members were noticeably looking everywhere but at Jane’s father and the councilwoman, like they were schoolchildren trying not to be called on in class.
“What’s going on?” Evelyn muttered under her breath, feeling a knot forming in her stomach.
“Well,” the councilwoman began, stirring herself up, “in the interest of making sure all sides are represented, I suppose I shall have to argue the dissenting opinion.”
“What the hell is she doing?” Jane said, obviously more to herself than to anyone else.
Evelyn felt the knot tighten as she looked at Jane’s father, who was clearly caught off guard by the opposition. It had been well known by everyone that his intentions were to return to Earth, and though none had said as much, Evelyn assumed that everyone knew that this one project of his was not up for discussion or for debate. It was clear that Mrs. Vandergaast felt otherwise and that some members of the council were going along with her.
“Evelyn,” the councilwoman said over the heads of people in the crowd.
Evelyn was shocked. Nobody ever addressed her directly in council meetings, other than Mr. Philips. She snapped into the moment.
“Ma’am?”
“Councilwoman,” Mrs. Vandergaast corrected.
“Yes, Councilwoman … ma’am.”
The councilwoman shot Evelyn a dirty look from across the room, hidden to nobody.
“Evelyn, will you please update the council as to our progress in the fields?”
“Yes, of course,” she said, feeling a flutter in her stomach, still unsure why she was being called to report by this woman. She glanced quickly at Mr. Philips, and the thoughtful look on his face told her his mind was moving as fast as hers. “The agribots have been programmed and are beginning the work of cultivating two thousand acres for immediate use and another six thousand acres for cycling through seasonal production cycles.”
The councilwoman held up her hand for Evelyn to stop speaking. “Do you believe these crops will provide suitable food stores for the community?”
“Yes, Councilwoman. More than enough.”
“And how do you know this?”
“The simulations I run tell me this.”
“Mm-hmm,” the councilwoman replied with a raised eyebrow. “And the animals and other living creatures here, Evelyn … please update the council as to where we stand in our understanding of the native animals and insects.”
Evelyn still didn’t know where this was going. She glanced at Jane, who gave her a silent nod to answer the question.
“Well, Councilwoman, we know very little. From what we have observed, the plant and animal life here is similar to Earth, but there are some noticeable differences. Obviously, there are no domesticated animals, but we have every reason to believe some may be suitable for domestication.”
“And how do you know this?”
“The simulations I run tell me this.”
Again the councilwoman gave Evelyn a raised eyebrow, though it quickly turned into a smirk. Evelyn’s gut wrenched. She didn’t know what was happening, but she felt like she was being interrogated, like an ambush was coming.
“And the power generators, Evelyn. Please update the council.”
Evelyn felt her face flush. She had left Ogre not even an hour ago, and he was being uncooperative, to say the least. Evelyn noticed Jane shifting in her spot. She figured the whole line of questioning was getting to her too.
“We are down one power generator, Councilwoman, but I am making modifications to it that will ensure the community has a power surplus.”
“And once again, how do you know this?”
“The simulations—”
“We know,” the councilwoman interrupted, “the simulations you run tell you this.”
Mrs. Vandergaast turned, and the glare she gave Evelyn made her feel like her heart might stop. “Let me ask you one final question, Evelyn … Do you have any actual experience with farming or ranching or with modifying power generators?”
And as the question snaked from the councilwoman’s knowing grin, Evelyn finally knew her game, but it was too late. She answered the only thing she could.
“No.”
Evelyn could hear Jane huffing next to her, and she had just realized the temperature in her corner had risen considerably in the past few moments.
The councilwoman smirked at Evelyn and turned to address the other council members, placing her back and her pear-shaped behind directly in front of Mr. Philips.
“We have some wonderful tools at our disposal,” she began, gesturing to Evelyn. “And we have put a lot of faith in our technology, especially organitech,” she said, gesturing to Evelyn again. “But I think it’s time for us to start relying on real people, wit
h real experience … people who have our best interests, as humans, in mind. Not artificial intelligence with nothing but simulations to back up its recommendations.”
Wait, what? Evelyn reeled. She knew the councilwoman was trying to discredit her experience, but this she didn’t understand.
“What did you just say?” Jane said over the murmurings in the crowd.
“I just meant we shouldn’t be too quick to trust everything to artificial intelligence.”
“I’ll tell you what,” Jane said, pushing her way through the crowd, “Evelyn’s more human than you’ll ever be.”
Turning to face Jane with a fiery rage in her eyes, she stabbed at her with her finger. “Back off, Jane!”
“You’re out of line, Colette!” Mr. Philips roared, standing abruptly and obviously completely losing his composure at the sight of this calculating woman attacking his daughter.
“I’m only saying what everyone in this room is thinking!” the councilwoman screamed, spittle flying from her lips as she held up her hand to him in defense.
Jane pulled up short, and Evelyn watched as she looked around the room. It seemed that the majority of the people in the room were avoiding making eye contact with Jane, her father, and with her, for that matter.
“Are you kidding me?” Jane said, clearly shocked at the revelation.
A moment passed, and then more calmly, though still red-faced, Mrs. Vandergaast continued. “I’m saying the things we’ve all been too afraid to say … for years.”
“Is that so?” Mr. Philips said, clenching his teeth, looking less like he wanted to tear her apart but more disappointed with each passing moment.
“Well, you could have been less of a hag about it,” she heard Jane retort, but by now, Evelyn felt like everything was happening in slow motion—to someone else.
Evelyn stood in her corner alone, her mind scrambling to piece her emotions together. A tool? Artificial? Organitech? She was confused. She said “it” … she called me an “it” … Is this how people see me? She felt a crunching in her chest, like someone was sitting on top of her, and her vision started to blur, the tears welling up in her eyes. She looked down at her hands. They were shaking. I am real. I am a person … I am real. She looked up and heard herself sniffle—it maybe being the only sound in the room at that moment—and then she saw the face of her sister whip around to face her, Jane’s expression shifting from rage to deep sadness. Evelyn felt a wave of shame washing over her at the pity she saw in Jane’s eyes.
“Evie!” Jane said, pushing her way back through the crowd and putting her arms on Evelyn’s quaking shoulders. “Don’t listen to them. They’re just a bunch of monsters. A bunch of hateful, ugly monsters!” Jane screamed over her shoulder at the callous councilwoman, who stood unblinking with her arms crossed, a look of complete indifference on her face.
“They don’t know you … They don’t know what they’re saying,” Jane said, pressing the palm of her hand against Evelyn’s cheek.
Evelyn tried to contain her tears but felt them trickle down her face, and she bit her lip to keep from sobbing in front of everyone. She looked back down at the dirt.
“Um … I think I should go,” she said in a whisper to the dirt, knowing if she looked up, she’d completely break down. Turning quickly, she brushed past the few people between her and the door.
“Evie, wait!” she heard as Jane’s words followed her through the door, getting lost in the wind and darkness on the planet she had no choice but to call home.
MECHANIC
The heat from the sun in the nearly cloudless sky beat on her shoulders and was amplified by the haze. It had rained the previous night, and whatever winds that had carried the storm through Philips Landing had quit blowing entirely by early morning. Now, with the sun directly overhead and not a breath of breeze to keep the air moving, the humidity and heat had soared.
It wasn’t so hazy that she couldn’t see, but it was hazy enough that everything had a shimmer to it, as if she were standing at the base of an enormous waterfall, peering through the blast of spray. She felt the sweat bead on her forehead, her shoulders, and then felt the drops run down her face, her neck, her back.
The humidity was unlike anything Evelyn had ever experienced, and while she figured most of the other colonists were probably complaining about how hot they were, she didn’t really mind it. It was new to her. To sweat like this. To feel the sun’s rays pounding on her face. To breathe and feel the moist air inflate her lungs and dampen her tongue. To feel like she was wrapped in a wet, warm blanket. It was all new.
She took a sip of her water bottle and squinted at the horizon, the haze making it all but impossible to see very far. She knew it was still there, but she couldn’t see her mountain either. She wondered if it felt as lonely as she did.
Wiping her wet forehead with the back of her equally wet hand, she turned to walk up the ramp of the shuttle. Finding her screwdriver exactly where she had left it—jammed into the wire housing sideways where she had tried to stab the manifold—she wrenched it free and prepared again to slay her most immediate dragon.
She took another sip of her water bottle. Pinching her eyes and nose, trying to keep her salty sweat from stinging her eyes, she paused as she heard footsteps behind her.
“Evie!”
Evelyn turned to see the sweaty and red face of Jane, her expression seemingly stuck somewhere between being worried, relieved, and pissed.
“Where have you been?”
Evelyn started to open her mouth, but before she could even make a sound, Jane interrupted.
“I’ve been frantic,” she nearly yelled, flailing her arms in the air. “I have been looking for you everywhere. You can’t just run off like that and not tell me where you’re going!”
“I—”
“You know,” Jane interrupted again, “I stayed up half the night waiting for you to come back to the tent, and I’ve been up since the sun came up, looking all over the camp for you.”
Jane paused, and Evelyn started to open her mouth again.
“I’ve been freaking out,” Jane continued. “Totally freaking out. Worrying about you being out in the storm, wondering if you’re dead. You know, Marcus is putting together a search party to go look for you right now!”
“Oh …”
“Oh …? That’s all you have to say … Oh?”
Evelyn was quiet for a second, still unsure if it was really her turn to talk, given Jane hadn’t done anything but vent and ask questions she really didn’t seem to want answers to.
Another second passed, and she thought she’d risk it. “Jane, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I went back up to Vista last night, and I came back early. I was there the whole time.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jane asked, an imploring look in her eyes.
Evelyn started to turn away but thought better of it. She looked at her sister and tried to express what she was feeling. “I don’t know … I guess I’m not used to people worrying over me because of who … or what … I am,” she added in a whisper.
Evelyn looked up at her sister and could see the red in her face had shifted to her eyes, and she was fighting to keep them from welling with tears. “You’re a who to me, dammit … a very important who. Don’t you dare let anyone tell you different.”
“Thanks, Jane,” Evelyn said, choking back a tear and a little laugh.
Jane stepped closer and grabbed her in a sweaty hug. Evelyn held her sister, feeling a calm wash over her she hadn’t felt in days.
“You really need a shower, Evie.”
“Look who’s talkin’,” Evelyn replied, neither of them letting go, both of them laughing lightly. They held each other for a moment and then slowly pulled away.
“Thanks for watching out for me,” Evelyn said, sitting on the floor against a wall and looking out of the shuttle bay at the grassy fields in the distance.
“Hey, what are sisters for?” Jane replied, also sitting and taking a sip from Evely
n’s water bottle. “So why’d you go up to Vista?”
“I guess I just needed some time to think, and Vista is the only home I’ve ever known. Maybe it’s weird, but I feel like I can think better up there.”
“So, you’re okay?” Jane asked.
Evelyn caught the sideways glance from her sister and looked back out of the shuttle. “Yeah, Jane, I’m fine.”
“You’re fine?”
“Well, maybe not fine,” she said, shrugging her shoulders, realizing Jane wasn’t going to let her get away without talking about it. “I’m okay, though. I just didn’t realize that was how people see me.”
“They don’t, Evie.”
“Well, some do.”
“Yeah, but they don’t matter.”
“They matter enough.”
A moment passed and neither of them said anything. Then Evelyn broke the silence. “So, how did the rest of the council meeting go?”
Jane rolled her eyes as if she had just been reminded of something irritating. “The council voted not to send any shuttles back to Earth … for now. They said until they were sure the colony could sustain itself, they didn’t want to take the risk of bringing new people here.”
“They’re just scared. It took a long time to get here, and they just want to be prepared, that’s all.”
“Who’s consoling whom here?” Jane said, giving Evelyn a raised eyebrow and a smirk.
Evelyn let out a laugh and nodded. Then a more serious thought crossed her mind. “I bet they’re also worried about what they might find back on Earth. We did leave on really bad terms. The government tried to blow us all up.”
“Yeah, I remember,” Jane said, glancing at her forearm.
Evelyn saw the scar, the number 91975 burned into the flesh of her arm by the tracking device that had been shoved into the muscle tissue. Jane had the tracker removed shortly after she escaped from DF-23, the government-run death camp in Colorado, but the scar remained. It was grotesque. The numbers were mottled and black, and they looked like a late-night street tattoo performed by a drunk with a razor blade and campfire ashes for color. Jane could have had it removed but chose to keep it. She said it was a constant reminder of why she needed to go back and help the people who were left behind—a reminder of what her brother had sacrificed to stay behind to help those same people. It was a blemish on her otherwise perfect body, but she obviously wasn’t going to change it.
Doppelganger Girl Page 4