by A. D. McLain
“I don’t even know them.”
Kara frequently went out with them to the clubs on weekends.
“Sure you do. We work with them every day.”
“You work with them every day. I work alone, and I don’t go to the Psy session lounge with the rest of you.”
Kara blinked and shook her head. “Well, you should, if for no other reason than to talk to other people every now and then. They’re great guys. You just need to give them a chance. Besides, the concert will be fun, and Ben said his friend Curtis is coming, and he’s bringing another male friend along.” She winked. “So there’ll be someone there for each of us.”
“I don’t know. I don’t have much luck with dating and I’m not into hookups.”
“All the more reason to come. You’ve got to learn to let go and relax, before you have a Psy-fit or something.” Kara took back control of the car.
Lexy stiffened. Being accused of emotional instability or a propensity for Psy violence was no easy threat. She didn’t think Kara meant anything by it, and she knew Kara wasn’t likely to turn her in, but it still wasn’t a good sign. Lexy tried to keep her head low and be as unobtrusive as possible, but maybe she wasn’t doing a good enough job of it. How long before someone else looked at her lack of participation and came to the same conclusion? She’d have to start doing a better job of acting normal and non-threatening.
“I’ll come.”
They got out of the car and walked up the stairs, to the door.
Kara was beaming.
“Just give me ten minutes to get ready and I’ll meet you out front. But I’m taking my own car, so that I can leave when I want.”
“Not a problem. See you in ten.”
2
Jared walked by the wall and tried to stay out of the way. The room was already getting crowded.
“Over here,” Curtis called, from a set of couches over to one side.
Ben and the others were already there. Jared recognized Ben and his date, Monique. She was a small girl with a bouncy, curly hairstyle and too much makeup. She always wore too much makeup and perfume. As he walked closer, he got a whiff of the wild oleander and jasmine fragrance she preferred. Beside them were two of Ben’s friends from work and their dates. The friends had made an appearance or two at Curtis’s parties. The dates were new.
“Are we ready to go in?” Jared asked.
“Not yet.” Curtis sat on one of the couches and motioned for everyone else to do the same. “They haven’t started seating the hall yet and we’re still waiting on two people.”
“Who?”
“Their names are Kara and Lexy,” Ben said. “They’re from my work.”
Jared raised an eyebrow to Curtis and leaned in. “Is this some kind of blind date setup thing?” he whispered.
Curtis grinned. “Well, I met Kara at Ben’s house a couple weeks ago,” he whispered back. “When I mentioned the concert and told her who all was coming, she suggested bringing her roommate. So you’re welcome.”
Jared groaned. “You know I hate setups.”
“It’s just for the concert, so calm down. If you don’t like her, you can pick up someone else later. Oh, look, there they are now.”
Jared looked at the two women entering the lobby. They couldn’t have been more different. One was dressed in a fiery-red and black asymmetrical dress with see-through cuts of black lace revealing her pale skin. Short black hair cut into a bob framed a made-up face with bright red lipstick and dramatic black lined eyes. The other woman was dressed modestly, with free flowing blond hair and simple white flats. She seemed much less comfortable being here.
The first woman smiled and waved at Curtis. The second woman fell back, distracted by an elderly woman with a walker, trying to get through the door. Around them, people pushed past, aggravated at the obstacle in their path. Some pushed the old woman or rolled their eyes. A group of high school kids jammed into the small opening beside her and shoved her into the door frame. Her purse fell to the ground, items spilling in all directions to be trampled by oblivious or uncaring concert goers.
“Lexy, come on,” Kara called back, stopping halfway between the door and the couches.
Lexy shot Kara an aggravated look and held open the door for the woman to get through. Then she bent over and retrieved all the items that’d fallen from her purse. A couple people stepped on her hands or hit her in the head with their bags, but she didn’t yell at them or complain. She simply filled the purse for the old lady and handed it back to her. The woman took Lexy into a strong hug and thanked her for her help. Lexy bit her lip, looked off to the side and mumbled something Jared couldn’t hear over the crowd. Then she strolled over in their direction.
“Hey, Lexy,” Kara said, as soon as she was within hearing distance.
Jared looked over, startled. He hadn’t noticed when Kara reached them. She sat next to Curtis, and the two of them were holding hands and casting flirty smiles at each other.
“Can you grab us all a drink?” Kara said.
Lexy opened her mouth, then closed it and smiled. “Sure.”
After glancing at the group to count how many heads there were, she headed to the bar.
“Is she my date?” Jared asked.
Maybe this night wouldn’t be as bad as he thought. She wasn’t like the others.
“Good luck with her,” Trae said. “She’s a Pseude.”
“What?” Curtis darted his gaze away from Kara, which was saying something because the two of them were practically joined at the pulse, even with the bands on. “Are you serious? Is she, like, some kind of Natripsyless? Only likes real sex?”
Everyone cringed. Physical intercourse was looked down on. It was messy, disease-ridden. You had to take your clothes off, and you always risked producing offspring. There were some die-hards who still claimed it was the only way to go, but most people didn’t see the point. It may have its benefits, but why would anyone give up the responsibility-free lifestyle of no-strings psinterludes with hundreds of partners for thirty minutes to an hour of risky physical copulation?
For those who still wanted to have children, there was always the traditional route or state-sponsored surrogates. Most people, even those in committed relationships, went with the surrogate route. Financially, it made the most sense. The government dissolved the institute of marriage a decade after the Storm. With a divorce rate near eighty percent, domestic violence at a historical high, and more people opting for the commitment-free lifestyle that their new abilities offered them, all state-sanctioned marriages were halted. Churches could hold their own marriage ceremonies for couples who wished to participate, but the government no longer treated a married couple any different than an unmarried couple. Their assets and tax reporting weren’t joined. They could come or go from the relationship without filing any paperwork or fearing child and spousal support rulings. Women no longer legally changed their name, and their children could take either name.
A major uproar developed over the validity of Psy-sex as a reason for divorce. Was it really cheating if they never physically touched another person? Prenuptial agreements with adultery clauses were hotly contested in court and on television. Anger over these and other normal marital problems led to many Psy attacks and killings, accidental and intentional. Your spouse could kill you in your sleep, while they were only half-awake. This was before the inhibitor bands became mandatory in all zones except free ones.
But that led to a significant population drop. While many people lauded the change, citing population overgrowth concerns from the past, the fact remained that society needed children to keep going. As people grew sick and died, they needed to be replaced. Jobs went unfilled, services were canceled, and businesses went under. So the government stepped in again, setting up incentive programs to encourage people to have children. Women began opting for anonymous insemination, at the direction of the state. All maternity-related medical bills and other expenses were covered during the first two years of
infancy. After that, the woman could opt to keep the child or enroll them in early preschool houses which saw to their continued care and development. Then the woman could go back to her life or opt to have another child.
The consequence of this program was far-reaching. Couples were encouraged to opt for anonymous insemination instead of traditional procreation to secure maternity and infant financial support from the state. Couples who chose to produce their own children through physical intercourse weren’t eligible for this compensation and were required to provide for their own medical and financial needs. Mothers, even ones who opted to continue having children, rarely kept their children past the age of two, since that was when state support ceased, and they were required to take over the financial burden of the child.
Of course, none of this stopped people from dating. Some people still sought out long-term relationships, just without the commitment level seen in past generations. There was a huge shift in attitudes from the time before the Storm.
Jared brought his mind back to the present and wished he hadn’t. A couple guys in the group were mimicking real sex, to the enjoyment of the others. Everyone was laughing and joining in, calling out exclamations about enjoying having to stop what they were doing to put on contraceptive protection and take off their clothes in the middle of a cold room. Curtis and Kara were laughing right along with the rest of them.
Jared caught movement from his peripheral and saw Lexy standing ten feet away. She was looking down, and he could tell by the pull of her brow and tensed muscles that she knew how this conversation had started. Then she took a breath. Her shoulders relaxed and her face rose into a bright smile.
“Got the drinks.” She strode up to the couches.
The others snickered and tried not to laugh as they took their glasses from the tray she carried. Lexy ignored them and continued to smile.
Jared took his glass and looked up at her, with sincerity. “Thank you.”
Her gaze flicked over to his, and he felt his awareness expand. While clamping down on his emotions, he noticed her expression was drawn inward. She set down the tray and took a seat on an empty chair, distancing herself from the group. They hardly noticed. Her roommate threw a few comments her way, but for the most part, they left her alone.
She scooped up an orange from the fruit basket on the end-table beside her and picked at the skin with unpainted nails. Her face was barely made-up, too. A light gloss the same color as her lips disappeared after the first few bites, leaving her with faint eye shadow as her only adornment. She wore no jewelry except the inhibitor band around her head. He noticed a small scratch just below the band. It looked new. Beside it were older scratches and healed scars, a sure sign of someone who slept wearing a band. Those who could afford it opted for a crystal post bed. Those who couldn’t had to sleep in the band, or go without and hope they weren’t caught. Few people had the will power to keep up long-term night-wear without sneaking in a few band-less nights.
Lexy pushed back a stray lock of hair and brushed against the scratch. Screwed her face up at the unexpected contact but didn’t say anything. She wore a simple, straight-cut dress that fell just below her knees and only moderately showed her curves. The sleeveless top covered her cleavage.
As she tapped her foot in time with the music in the background, he couldn’t help but feel like it was all a show. The way she presented herself was completely thought out. It was simple enough not to attract too much attention, reserved enough to preserve her modesty, but flirty enough not to make her seem like a Psude. The overall effect was a nice girl who may be shy. Perhaps that was what she was and it wasn’t a disguise. He doubted it.
The music in the concert hall picked up, signaling the start of the show. Everyone stood and pressed through the thick crowd. Curtis and Kara took the lead. Lexy fell to the back, letting the others push in front of her. Jared fell back enough to keep an eye on her. While entering the concert hall, he saw the group take their seats, leaving only one empty spot beside them. Curtis waved back at Jared to take the seat. Behind him, Lexy furtively glanced around for somewhere to go. Resignation and acceptance shone on her face. Jared looked once more at his friend, who was now too distracted by Kara to worry about Jared. So he grabbed his opening, went to Lexy and took her hand.
She looked at him, brow raised. “What are you—”
“Follow me.” He led her back out into the lobby and down another hall.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” Jared pushed aside a black curtain to reveal a set of hidden stairs.
Lexy looked at him, biting the corner of her mouth. Then she relaxed and smiled. Followed him up the stairs, to a service balcony overlooking the entire hall. After pulling a loose tarp from the corner, he spread it out for them to sit on and they settled in for the start of the concert.
“How did you know about this place?” she whispered.
“Summer job when I was younger.”
“What about your friend? Won’t he miss you?”
“I doubt it. I tend to do my own thing. He’s used to it.”
“That sounds nice.”
“I’m Jared, by the way.”
“Lexy.” She offered her hand, then settled back into a more comfortable position.
Jared shifted beside her and took in the lighting as it reflected off the ceiling. Orange and green stage lights moved across the room, changing color where they crossed. Leaning back against the wall, he reached up and disengaged his inhibitor band, then carefully removed it.
She took a sharp breath, eyes wide. “What are you doing?” A look of real fear crossed her face. She glanced back down the stairs.
“Relax. No one can see up here and there aren’t any cameras. You can take yours off if you like.”
“I… no, I can’t.” Her body shook and she scooted a few inches back.
“It’s all right. No pressure. Look, would you feel better if I put mine back on?”
She gazed over at him, nibbling her lip. He put on the band back on.
She sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s fine. I won’t do it again. Now lean back and try to relax.”
She scooted beside him and touched her shoulder to his. He waited a few songs, until she was smiling again, before putting his arm around her. She settled back against him and rested her head against his chest, straightening her legs and crossing her ankles. Their fingers were intertwined. He closed his eyes, listening to the music, and let his heartbeat and breathing slow to match hers.
The music rose and fell, with the crowd cheering when the more popular songs were played. Lexy smiled and mouthed the words. She tapped her toes and moved her head with the beat.
“So tell me, what’s your path?” he asked, during a slow song.
Everyone chose or was placed in a certain career path based on their skills. It wasn’t a decision to be taken lightly, and someone’s path could tell you a lot about them. When the population dropped, certain jobs took priority. Positions needed to keep society going. You couldn’t have hundreds of thousands of people studying art or music theory when you needed doctors or welders. So the universities began restructuring their programs, only offering degrees in useful professions and accepting a predetermined number of people into each degree program. Once you were placed on a certain path, it became difficult to jump to another. Every spot had to be filled, and it was all based on algorithms and formulas designed by bureaucrats and statisticians. If a city needed a certain number of plumbers based on its population and you wanted to leave that program, another student must first take your place. The only exception was if you wished to move into a job that had an optimal operating deficit. In some cases, people were asked to relocate to other areas or states to fill these deficits.
“I’m a data preservation specialist,” she said.
“Data preservation? Isn’t that secretive work?”
She nodded. “It puts me in contact with a lot o
f unapproved texts and content. After I transcribe, scan, or catalogue it, every piece is passed on to analysts to determine if the item will be censored or released to the public. Either way, I have to read it as I work.”
“I’ve heard it can be a lonely job.”
“I enjoy it. I like reading about people’s thoughts and experiences, seeing the world through other’s eyes. I’ve read love letters, wedding announcements, obituaries. Stories of tragedy and miraculous rescues. I’ve seen pictures of lovers separated by war, and children reunited with parents or siblings. Every day, I learn something new. Sometimes I think I have more in common with the people in those letters than I do with my coworkers and friends. They really saw the world differently back then.” She sighed. “What about you?”
“On paper, I work for my dad. In truth, I’ve had dozens of unpaid apprenticeships in things like mechanics, wood and metal working. Electrical, hydroponics, and traditional agriculture.”
“Preparing for the apocalypse?” She grinned.
“Some would say we’re already there.” He returned her grin. “I just don’t like being told what to do or what I’m allowed to learn. If I want to learn something new, I go out and do it. As long as I don’t get paid for it and don’t stop doing my day job, there isn’t anything they can say or do about it. So what’s the most interesting thing you’ve ever read?”
“Hmmm, well, there was this one story about a man and his family. They were starving, stranded by a bad winter storm. They lived in a small mountain valley and were often wintered in when the pass was blocked by snow. But this year, their main home and all their food was destroyed by a fire, early into their stay. Every day, the man went out in freezing temperatures, without adequate clothing to keep him warm. He searched for anything for his family to eat, setting traps, rummaging nuts, and pulling fish from an ice cold stream with only a staff with a knife tied onto the end. Despite his efforts, there wasn’t enough food for everyone to eat, so every night he would take a single bite of fish and give the rest to his wife and children. He never complained, and he prayed every day to thank God for giving him even that much to eat. This went on for two months, until the mountain pass thawed, and they were able to make their way out. They were all sick from the ordeal, but they lived. Doctors who examined the man couldn’t believe he’d survived on so little food for such a long period of time. They said it shouldn’t have been possible. His family needed him, and he kept them alive. That would have to be the best story I’ve ever read.”