True Calling

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True Calling Page 27

by Siobhan Davis

I wake screaming my head off as the familiar nightmares of my father’s death are resurrected by my unconscious mind. Cal’s there in a heartbeat, holding me to him. He doesn’t let go until the Medicet arrives and secures me into a dreamless sleep.

  I am very disorientated the next morning, and it adds to the trepidation I feel at our forthcoming first live meeting with the other couples. We’re scheduled to have breakfast together: the coordinators felt it would be a less formal setting for the initial introductions. Fenuka makes me over; I’m casually attired and my make-up is understated but striking. It’s amazing how confident I feel after she’s styled me, I’m not sure what it says about my self esteem though. Cal is his usual complimentary self and I look at him in admiration, he looks seriously fit and I still wonder how I managed to bag him. I push any negative thoughts out of my mind and take his offered hand as we make our way downstairs.

  We’re escorted to a small room on the ground level of the building where some other couples are already seated. There are assigned seats for each couple so we obediently take our designated seats. The couple from Cascade are seated to my right and Cal to my left. There are no occupants in the seats beside him yet, but I note from the name cards that they’re reserved for the couple from Storm. Summer and Wade, the boy and girl from Cascade, are really sweet and easy to get along with, we chat pleasantly for a few minutes until everyone else gradually makes their way in.

  The girl and boy from Storm are the last to arrive and it’s obvious by her attire that it’s a staged grand entrance. She’s wearing the most outrageous outfit to breakfast—a tight black corset dress that is showcasing her ample cleavage and tiny waist. It achieves the desired result: everyone else stops talking and gawps at them. She takes her seat in the chair beside Cal and immediately introduces herself in a breathy, raspy voice. She simultaneously flicks her long brunette locks and pushes her cleavage forward; she makes no secret of her apparent admiration for him, and I feel an intense loathing that’s unusual for me. I normally reserve judgment on a person until I’ve gotten to know them, and only then make an informed opinion on whether or not I like them. Nothing Lainey could say or do would endear me to her, but I won’t give her the satisfaction of noting my discomfort; so I cordially extend my hand in greeting and smile sweetly as if I haven’t noticed her ogling my man.

  Tristan, her intended, is her clone in every respect. He leers at me indiscreetly and holds my hand to his lips as he plants a wet kiss on it. I have to resist the urge to vigorously scrub my skin, instead settling for wiping my hand secretly on the napkin which is resting on my lap. I don’t know how I manage to get through breakfast with my sanity intact. The bimbo—I refuse to acknowledge her by name—gives Cal her undivided attention much to my chagrin. Cal makes concerted efforts to break away, but every time he tries to start a conversation over my side of the table, it’s completely fruitless; she always re-engages him in their discussion. I catch him looking at her chest on one occasion and give him a swift kick under the table; he takes it like a man and barely flinches.

  I notice a few of the girls casting envious glances my way. It’s silly, because I know he only wants to be with me and we are destined to be married, but I still feel sharp pangs of jealousy. I never thought I’d be so glad to be called out for dance class, but I’m just happy that the whole circus that was breakfast is finally over.

  I walk pleasantly by his side as the Ranger guides us to the room for our private dance lesson. But once we’re alone all my fury erupts in a litany of profanities and shrieking. I’m additionally infuriated by his amused expression and it takes all my willpower not to physically retaliate—I’m shocked at the ferociousness of my response and I try to isolate the emotions fuelling my rage. “Fiesty little thing aren’t you,” he says teasingly but I’m in no mood to play.

  “I saw you looking, how could you? It was bad enough that she monopolized your ears the entire time!” I spit at him.

  “Jeez, calm down Ariana. I was caught off-guard, I did everything I could to avoid looking at them but they were in my face! She’s a piece of work, isn’t she?” he says comically.

  “Well, it wasn’t funny for me. How would you feel if some guy were thrusting his crotch in my face the whole time and fawning over me like a lovesick puppy? She’s an outrageous flirt and he’s just pathetic,” I say angrily.

  “You are not jealous of her?” he asks incredulously.

  “No, I’m not jealous, I’m mad more than anything else. You should have ignored her—you made me look foolish,” I say as I finally define the feelings driving my behavior.

  “Ariana, I didn’t want to be rude, and no one in that room would look at you and think for one second that I had any interest in her,” he says and I know it’s the truth.

  “Well, you better ignore her the next time or I will not be responsible for my actions,” I shrill.

  “Deal, now you need a distraction to help you chill out...,” he says as he pulls me into his embrace and puts his mouth on mine. It works and my anger melts away at his touch.

  Our dance instructor arrives shortly after and he’s very strict and serious, it takes some of the fun out of it for me but Cal does his best to keep it entertaining. We’re scheduled to have an hourly lesson every day and we have to perform a dance together at the Silentium Ball. The Ball is being held on the final night and the Novo Silentium Couple will be announced then. I wish there were a fast forward button to press, to get this all over and done with.

  We head back upstairs to have lunch à deux and I call Lily and Deacon to check in on both of them. I barely get to open my mouth when talking to Eve, she’s on cloud nine planning her wedding. I make a few encouraging sounds every now and then and she doesn’t even notice how she is hijacking the entire conversation. When I eventually get to talk to my brother and sister, I find out that they’re visiting Mom later; Lily promises to IM me afterwards with an update. Satisfied that they’re both OK I go and join Cal. We decide to go out for a run and both quickly get changed and head out.

  You think I would be used to strangers acknowledging me at this stage, but it’s still so weird to have random people shout out and wave as we make our way to the track, I’m definitely not wired for a celebrity life.

  ***

  The next few days go by in a flash and we’re on a merry-go-round of lunches and dinners, as we’re paraded and admired by notable VIPs. We meet government officials, corporate sponsors, high-ranking military officials and the pageant organizers.

  Initially, I’m enthralled by the opportunity to wear such fabulous outfits but the novelty soon wears off. I’m sick of the daily round of pampering and preening and I usually have to change outfits at least three times. I never thought I’d hear myself complain about such things but quite frankly, it’s completely exhausting. Looking perfect all the time is such hard work. I long to pull on one of my old comfy velour sweatsuits and just lounge around, so I’m highly pleased when Fenuka says we have Sunday off.

  We take it easy in the morning, rising at a leisurely pace and snuggling down together on the sofa to read and play games. By mid-afternoon I’m bored, it’s hard to wind down after spending so long operating at such a frenetic pace. Cal shakes his head and laughs as he tells me it’s a female prerogative to change my mind. We decide to grab a movie and dinner and I deliberately dress down in jeans, sneakers and a sweatshirt. Fenuka can be mad, I’m beyond caring at this point. Feeling a little selfish, I apply the requisite face paint so she can see that I made some effort.

  Cal’s thinking is aligned to mine as he comes out of his room similarly attired. We agree to walk to the movie theater so we can fully appreciate the city. Every building is so tall that it feels like we’re tiny insects walking in a world of giants. Skyscrapers extend beyond the limit of natural eyesight and some appear to ascend into the clouds. I’m amazed to see so many people dressed in suits and hurrying frantically through the crowds; the notion of rest and relaxation mustn’t apply to the corporat
e world. We attract a few looks, but most people don’t approach us or pass comment. I’m not sure if it’s because people don’t recognize us in our dressed down disguises or if they just can’t be bothered, either way I’m glad to be incognito for a while.

  Cal is the definition of gluttony as he comes back from the concession stand laden down with treats. I refuse all offers except for the drink; I can’t afford to put on any more weight as I’ve already noticed some of my clothes feeling tighter than normal. Fenuka will have a conniption if my ball gown doesn’t fit, so I cling to my will power and leave him to stuff his face on his lonesome. I seriously don’t know where he puts it all and I can’t believe that he still has room for dinner. He is adamant that we find a nice romantic restaurant to eat and we scour the dining options in the vicinity, on our data-cuffs. We settle for an Italian restaurant that’s only a few blocks away on foot. We’re half way there when I’m transported to another place entirely. It’s as if my surroundings have disappeared and the only thing I’m aware of is the image in my head—I can see and hear nothing around me.

  Ben is being dragged kicking and screaming across the barren soil. He is shouting out and thrashing about wildly until a Medicet appears and sedates him. His head lolls forward and his feet trail the ground as he is dragged by the Rangers to the waiting stealth-craft. I watch helplessly as it lifts silently off the ground and vanishes into the night sky.

  CHAPTER 25

  As I come to, Cal is begging me to speak to him. Slowly my senses are returning, and I can hear the flow of traffic on the adjacent road and see the angry expressions on the faces of those who push past us in annoyance. I instinctively move sideways and place my back firmly against the stone facade of the nearest building, feeling its solidity against my body helps bring me firmly back to reality. What did I just see? And was it real? And more importantly, how did I do it?

  Cal is waiting for answers. Whispering it out here to him in a crowded, noisy street is probably as safe as it gets, but I’m more concerned about the effect it will have on him. I don’t have time to overanalyse it though as he leans in tight to my ear. “Don’t even think about holding back.”

  “I think I just had a vision,” I whisper.

  “What did you see?”

  “It was Ben. The authorities have him; they dragged him into a stealth-craft, and it took off. That’s all I saw,” I whisper truthfully. His face in that instant speaks a thousand words. I see the shock, fear and anger all register in quick succession.

  After a few minutes he says, “How do you think you did it? Saw the vision, I mean.”

  “I don’t know,” I say in frustration. “One minute we were talking and walking, and the next everything just faded out, and all I was aware of was the drama playing out in my head. I don’t know what I did, if anything, to bring it on.”

  “We have to try to figure out this gift of yours, if you could learn to control it, it’d be extremely beneficial,” he whispers as he thinks out loud. I kiss him fervidly. When we break away, he looks at me in bewilderment.

  “That’s for believing in me when the easy option would be to check me into the psychiatric wing beside my mother,” I say, as I think about how lucky and grateful I am to have someone so open-minded and supportive at my side.

  We’ve both lost our appetite, so we cancel our plans for dinner and walk back to the convention center. Neither one of us feels like talking, but the silence is congenial.

  Fenuka’s waiting directly outside the elevator to greet us, her face is flushed, and she looks very excited. Before either one of us can speak, she informs us that we have a very special visitor. We trade concerned looks. At first, I can’t decipher who our visitor is as he’s enclosed in a circle of armed Rangers. As they pull back, and the figure becomes recognizable, I feel every hair on my body stand to attention, our visitor is none other than President Calavero.

  I’ve never met him before, he’s much taller in person than I’d imagined and he’s handsome in the non-conventional sense. He moves confidently as he extends his hand in greeting; we both oblige. Why is he here? What does he want? My palms feel sweaty, and I’m figidity, but I manage to stand my ground and hold still. I feel Cal tighten his already firm grip on my hand. The president motions for us to sit and we take seats on the couch opposite him. From the corner of my eye, I spot the Rangers guiding Fenuka out of our suite.

  Cal is the first to speak. “It’s a great honor to meet you Mr. President. To what do we owe this pleasure?” he asks calmly and sincerely. To anyone else it appears that Cal is in awe of our esteemed guest, only I can tell that it’s deliberately constructed to appear consenting.

  “Mr. Remus,” the president begins to speak.

  “Please, call me Cal.”

  “Cal,” the president continues, “my visit is two-fold. Firstly, I wanted to take this opportunity to meet every couple participating in the ‘Amor Regale’ and secondly, I have some personal news to deliver and I felt it best to talk to you in person,” he says. I’m finding it very hard to breathe properly. “I must inform you that your friend, Ben Winters, has been taken into custody.” He doesn’t mention my vision, and I feel myself relax, but only minimally.

  “What will happen to him?” Cal asks in a very measured voice.

  “That will depend on how cooperative he is.”

  “In what way?” Cal asks, and I can hear the uncertainty that he works into his tone. He’s playing a blinder, and I’m in admiration of how well he’s conducting himself. I don’t know how he’s maintaining such a cool composure, I feel like jelly inside.

  “May I speak directly?” the president asks. Cal nods his head. “We three know that there are defectors plotting to overthrow our regime. Your friend Ben had the misfortune to get mixed up with them. This act of treason can’t go unpunished, but he can greatly help himself if he works with us—we can be more lenient,” he says.

  “What’s Ben said?” Cal asks.

  “He is ... considering his options,” the president says cryptically. “I’ve seen some of your tapes Cal; you disagree with some of our policies?” he asks rhetorically. Cal doesn’t answer straightaway, and I know he’s carefully shaping his response.

  “I don’t agree with some of them, like outlawing homosexuality—that’s a step too far in my book.”

  “Ariana,” the president says, turning his attention to me for the first time, “you’ve been vocal about your dislike of ‘The Calling’ and the ‘Amor Regale’.” I decide to follow Cal’s lead and to adopt a disagreeable yet respectful tone.

  “Losing our freedom of choice is a tough call,” I say and I’m thankful that my voice sounds even.

  “What would you do if you were in my shoes?” he asks of us both. Before we can respond he continues, “The decisions to be made are complex and challenging; some decisions have been years in the making and the shrewdest minds have debated the options at length for decades. What happened on Earth could have been the ruination of humanity but we seized the opportunity to recreate ourselves in the best possible way. We’re undoubtedly not alone in the universe, and the continuation of mankind rests on the decisions that we make today and into the future. The most recent opinion polls show an eighty-eight percent satisfaction rating for my government, so I know we’re leading our people along the right path,” he says. “Unpopular as it may be, our future depends on our reproduction as a race. If we don’t grow the population then we’ll die out; that’s not going to happen on my watch.”

  He’s perfectly pleasant as he says this and most would think him a reasonable man. But I can see him for what he is—a ruthless control freak who will achieve his agenda, irrespective of any obstacles in his way. Despite my earlier appeasement, I feel the anger start to take hold.

  “There are thousands of people on Earth, the easiest solution is to grant them access to Novo and our population size will thrive,” I interject.

  “I already mentioned the opportunity to create a better world; that
world rests on the quality of those chosen to share in its existence. The decision to leave those behind on Earth was difficult but right. Those people aren’t our solution though they serve an important purpose. It’s a new world order, and everyone has a place. But those places are distinct—not interchangeable—the sooner people understand that, the better it will be for all.” It’s an ardent speech if the audience is of the right caliber. His words do nothing to quell my disgust, just the opposite, in fact. Nonetheless, I remain silent: continuing to challenge him will only risk those I love.

  “Your obvious intelligence and spirit are to be commended; if channelled towards the right aims you both could play an important role in the future of Novo. Think of the things we could achieve if we work together! To contribute to planning the next generation, one that will accomplish things beyond our wildest dreams, that’s what’s on the table for you both. Our Silentium couple will have no choice but to participate, whether that’s as willing participants or not is up to you. Time is running out, you need to decide,” he says as he rises, indicating that our conversation has come to an end. We pose for some photos and then he leaves.

  Cal is understandably worried for his friend. I don’t know Ben well, but even I know that he’ll be loathe to cooperate. I shudder as I consider the punishment they will mete out if he fails to conform. It’s too dangerous to discuss, and I feel incapacitated knowing that I’m powerless to help Cal deal with the situation. The only comfort I can offer is to act as a distraction, so I force him to search through the movie database until we find one worthy of watching. I bring the quilt in from my room, and we huddle together on the sofa.

  I spend more time observing his profile than watching the movie. Every so often he looks over at me and caresses my face or messes with my hair; it feels so natural to be with him like this, and I’m astounded at how easily I’ve adapted to the role of girlfriend. Fiancée! I remind myself surreally. He kisses me for an eternity at my bedroom door, and we’re both reluctant to part; however, Zolt Rada’s warning is never far from my mind. We unwillingly part and head to our respective bedrooms.

 

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