What Tomorrow May Bring

by Tony Bertauski

  How the heck can this not be a dream? Is it possible I was actually injured in the blast at the Goodington’s? Am in a coma and my brain has fabricated all of this? Didn’t I see a TV show like that once? Isn’t that more possible than traveling through a portal in the ocean to Earth’s sister world where dead people live again and some sick and twisted, faceless rulers force their loved ones to attend to them?

  Do I still love Tristan? Or is that chapter of my life closed? Could I allow myself to develop feelings for Blake? Can he ever live up to the memory of Ethan, who I felt sure could be the one? Or will I turn on Blake when I learn his secrets? What has he done anyway? Did he spend time in juvie or something? Was he abused? Raised by meth dealers? What could explain those scars on his hands? Although I need to know his deep dark secret, I first need to deal with the existence of the Second Chancers.

  The thing that I get stuck on over and over again is the “how”? How can my friends be alive? They were dead. Vaporized. Well, not quite given the number of body parts I saw in the post-disaster news coverage. But mangled beyond repair, certainly. So, how did they get here? They weren’t reborn since they showed up here at the same age they were when they died on Earth. Someone needs to explain the science behind it because nothing I’ve learned in school or training here can account for it.

  Amidst the grief and anger, I also feel something for Blake that I can’t quite define. He infuriates me most of the time but occasionally shows me a tender side that tugs at my heart. By the time the doorbell rings, I realize we’ve completely missed our window for dinner. That mystery will have to be left for another day as we’re due to be debriefed by the man whom I consider to be my captor. The doorbell rings again, and I close my eyes to collect myself and let Blake pull away, though he whispers, “It’ll be okay, Kira,” before jumping up to get the door.

  “Good morning, Mr. Sundry,” I hear Spud say.

  “Mr. Rosenberg,” Blake responds. “Come on in. And, please, call us Blake and Kira. The whole formal thing’s annoying. Sorry I was slow. We’ve just been, uh, working through the massiveness of the night.”

  “Yes, I’m sure.” Spud enters the room and sees me in shambles on the couch. I don’t bother to say hello, trying to wipe the evidence of my meltdown from my face. He helps himself to a seat, and I watch Blake retreat to the kitchen.

  “Ms. Donovan, or Kira, rough night?”

  “I got to hang out with all my dead friends. It was great,” I say with the deadpan delivery I reserve for the man.

  “As shocking as it must have been for you to see them, can you appreciate the miracle of the situation? You do understand that they are not dead here, right?”

  “I’m not really a ‘believe in miracles’ kind of person…but, true to your advertising, the Second Chance Institute has managed to find a way to give people a second lease on life.” I then add under my breath, “however disturbing it is.”

  “Well, I think it’s a miracle,” Spud says.

  I look at him incredulously. How long did the SCI have to brainwash him? Deep down, does he understand that all of this isn’t okay? I ask him, “How does it work? How do they get here? How do they get through the portals? I need to understand it.”

  “Sorry, even with my promotion I’m not privy to the details.” Spud avoids eye contact. He just won’t share the details.

  “I don’t believe you,” I respond, full of indignation.

  “Does it really matter? They are real. They are here. You are here. Deal with it.” I hate this man; truly despise him—his ridiculous looks, his condescending attitude, his inappropriate questions, and his pathetically insufficient answers.

  “It matters to me.” I pound my fists on the couch, frustrated and upset.

  “I assume you were careful not to discuss the past?” He ignores my temper tantrum. I take some deep breaths to calm myself as I don’t do angry well, being rather unversed at it.

  “I assume you already know the answer to that?” I put him back on the defensive. He glares at me with his signature, “be careful, you are pushing it” look. “But yes, to answer your question, I made no mention of the past. So all is safe, unless dead kids became psychic upon resurrection.” This gets me a smirk and a nervous wiggling of his chin fat.

  “Excellent. How did Tristan and Briella react to you?” he asks.

  “How do you mean? I chatted with them. Bri and I hit it off, and Tristan hit on me.”

  “Did that make you feel uncomfortable given his current relationship with Briella?” Why is it so important for him to know this? I try to read him and my best guess would be concern that I may be a spoiler in some evil being’s Cleaving plans.

  I roll my eyes. “Yes, it was uncomfortable and awkward for everyone.”

  “Because of your feelings for Tristan or your feelings for Blake?” he probes. It takes a moment for me to realize that the SCI thinks my relationship with Blake is real and progressing much faster than in reality.

  “Both, I guess.” I shrug my shoulders. I wonder what’s taking Blake so long in the kitchen but realize he’s probably scrounging for food since we missed dinner. Blake doesn’t have quite the appetite Tristan had when we dated but pretty close. My eating habits more closely mirror my stress than hunger level. And since my stress level is at an all time high, I could use some munchies.

  Spud continues his interrogation. “Did you get a sense that either Briella or Tristan had any memories from before?” Odd, given he said that isn’t possible.

  “Hmmm. No not really memories per se but more like feelings, if that makes any sense. Tristan said he was drawn to me, and he was going to figure out why, and Bri immediately felt like we’d be friends,” I say. He jots down some notes on his tablet.

  “Do you have any intention of pursuing a relationship with Tristan?” My eyes go wide. I let out a puff of imaginary steam and dig my fingernails into the couch.

  “Mr. Rosenberg,” I respond, trying to keep my voice as calm and steady as possible, “I’m a little overwhelmed by the fact that my dead friends are here and reanimated, and even more overwhelmed by the fact that you knew this and did not tell me ahead of time. So no, I’m not really planning some dream wedding with Tristan. Or I guess that doesn’t even happen here since people either have premarital sex and get Cleaved for life, or get matched up by some random computer or whatever. Neither of which I’ll allow to happen to me.”

  “You have been pursuing a relationship with Blake?” His blubbery cheeks wobble as he laughs over his intrusions. Not a real one. Or maybe? I don’t know. But, for Spud, it has got to seem real.

  “Yeah. As far as I know, he’s not dead.” I bite my lip as Blake enters to hand me a plate of food. “Thanks,” I say to Blake and then shove a bite of food into my mouth so I can avoid further discussion.

  “Okay,” Spud says. “You can eat while I talk with Blake, and then I highly recommend you get a good day’s sleep. Your doctor decided to move your surgery up to tomorrow evening after reviewing your test results, so I’m afraid you won’t be able to eat or drink after dinner and won’t be able to have breakfast in the evening. And here’s a medication you’re to take right away,” he says, handing me a couple of pills which he waits for me to swallow. The mention of the surgery makes me feel ill. Blake grabs my hand to comfort me. I run my fingers across his scars, eagerly anticipating the moment he tells me what happened to cause such injury.

  “Can Blake be there?” I ask. “I just can’t deal with those needles on my own.”

  Spud shakes his head. “I’m afraid not. Given your test results, they’re concerned about Blake as well, so they’ll be running additional tests on him at the same time. I’ll mention your concern about the needles to the doctor.” The way he says it and the reaction on Blake’s face makes me think that it’s a set-up to keep Blake out.

  “Can’t they wait to run tests on me until after Kira’s surgery is done?” Blake asks.

  “No, I’m afraid not. You have classes t
o start. Kira will start her classes a night or two later as I suspect she’ll need some recovery time.”

  “I thought the surgery was no big deal. Should I be worried?” I’m even more wary about it than before and suddenly not so hungry. In fact, I’m very woozy and incredibly sleepy.

  “It’s not a big deal and no, you shouldn’t be worried. Some people experience a little discomfort afterwards, but the doctor will give you some pain medication, and with a little rest you’ll be just fine,” he explains.

  “What were those pills? I’m not feeling so hot,” I put my head down on the nearest surface, which happens to be Blake’s lap. I’m sure to keep the ruse going. He runs his fingers through my hair and away from my face. The garden images on the walls relax me, and before long I close my eyes, comforted by his touch and the silky feel of the couch.

  “Yeah, what’d you give her?” Blake asks Spud.

  “I believe it’s just something to relax her and help her sleep. After the stress of the night, it’s important she be well rested for her procedure.” I’m too tired to speak, but those pills did not resemble those they gave us to sleep when we first arrived.

  “I would like to understand her surgery better.” Blake’s tone is angry.

  “She asleep?” Spud asks.

  “I think so.”

  “As the doctors explained to her there are some side effects Recruits face by going through Thera’s portals. Often small lesions form on the female’s reproductive organs that, if left unchecked, can cause long-term infertility.”

  “And so that’s what the doctor is fixing tomorrow?”

  “Yes, of course,” Spud replies.

  “So then why are they messing with me?” Blake asks.

  “Oh, well, for males there can be issues will sperm motility, which can make it difficult to fertilize a female’s egg.”

  “Seriously, stop right there. Don’t ever talk to me about sperm again, okay? Besides, I’m not sure children will be in my future.” Does he hate kids or something? And why’d he stop stroking my hair?

  “Of course they will be,” Spud says. “Which is why these tests and procedures are so important.”

  “What exact tests are they running on me?”

  “I’m sure they’re just going to take some samples and make sure all is well,” Spud responds. I can feel Blake shaking beneath me. Perhaps he hates needles as much as I do.

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes.” Spud’s tone indicates that the conversation is over. “So, tell me how the night went. Was it hard to see your sister? Or harder to see your girlfriend meet up with her old boyfriend?”

  “Well, it’s not like I got to chat with Leila since she’s a freshman. And the whole Tristan thing sucked. What did you expect? That Kira would thank you? That I would thank you?” Blake asks.

  “No, I imagined it would go as it did,” Spud replies. “She needs to get past it.”

  “I don’t know,” Blake says. “Can she?” He’s back to playing with my hair, which feels amazingly soothing.

  “I thought you’d like her. You’ve got a thing for her, haven’t you?” Spud pauses which makes me think Blake gave a non-verbal answer to his question. “She’d make an excellent Cleave for you, you know. Just remember that you came here to do a job, not just to find the love of your life.”

  “I know. I got it. I won’t let you down.” And then almost as an afterthought Blake adds, “As creepy as it is working with the Second Chancers, we’ll do as instructed.”

  “Excellent. Well, I’ll be going. I’ll let myself out. I assume you’ll see to it that Kira gets to bed?”

  “I’ve got it covered, Ted.” Ted? Since when are they on a first name basis?

  I hear footsteps, and then the door shuts. Blake silently sits there for several minutes before sliding out from under my head so that he can scoop me off the couch and carry me to my room. He pulls the covers up over me and kisses me on the forehead before I drift off to sleep.

  I’m barely showered and dressed before the doorbell rings and an all-too chipper Spud Rosenberg is at the door and ready to usher me to the clinic. Blake insists on accompanying me, but Spud says no, “His appointment isn’t for a half hour.” There’s no chance to interrogate Blake about his debriefing with Spud. That will have to wait for later when we can take a walk in the canyon, assuming I’ll even be up to it. Actually, I don’t care how I feel. My need for information will have to trump any pain or discomfort.

  We traverse the path to the clinic through the glowing lights in the canyon, and I congratulate myself for my improved skills at avoiding the spiky brush lining the path. I try to start up a conversation with Spud, but he’s clearly not an early evening person. He happily hands me off to the doctor who informs me that due to my “fear of needles” they’ve decided to put me under for the procedure, although it will be a “twilight” anesthetic, so I’ll wake up immediately following just like when I got my wisdom teeth out a year ago. I remember Blake’s clear instructions to not let them do this, so I know exactly what’s being done to me, but the doctor refuses to relent, and I’m out like a light within moments.

  My watch reads 20:10 when I come around, so I was under less than forty minutes. My abdomen feels sore and bloated, and there’s a little bleeding, but, other than that, I appear to be functional. The doctor confirms that I’ll likely have some discomfort and pain for a couple nights but should be back to a hundred percent thereafter. He gives me a bottle of pain medication to help me deal before forcing me into a wheelchair and turning me over to a nurse.

  As we’re wheeling out to the clinic lobby, I hear a heated exchange coming from an examination room. One of the voices is my doctor and the other rings so familiar it hits me like a wrecking ball to the gut as he says, “What did you do to her? If you hurt her, I’ll make sure you suffer.” Ethan. That’s impossible, right? Or not. I saw him at the scale model at Headquarters. At the time, I was certain. But Brad Darcton scared me off. Why wouldn’t Ethan come see me if he was here? Unless he’s a Second Chancer and doesn’t remember me which would suck. Although, wouldn’t that mean he couldn’t remember his girlfriend, either? What is wrong with me? I’m horrible and need to get a grip. Ethan’s not mine to pursue, even if he is on Thera. Regardless, I want to know his fate.

  “Who’s in there?” I ask the nurse as I get out of the chair and attempt to open the door which is locked. Thankfully, she catches me when I collapse from standing up too fast. “I know that voice. I need to talk to him. I really, really need to. I’ve been looking for him. Please open up,” I beg through the door. “If it’s you, please stop avoiding me.” The voices in the room go silent.

  “I’m afraid that information is privileged, Ms. Donovan,” she says. “We take patient confidentiality seriously here. Should I get a member of the Ten or Council to address your concerns?” That’s all the reminder I need to stand down. In my loopy state, I’d ignored Brad Darcton’s admonition to not go looking for people I knew previously.

  “No, no, never mind. I’m sorry. I think I’m just hallucinating or something,” I say. She shakes her head and delivers me to Blake who is, apparently, supposed to push me all the way home. I’m surprised he’s waiting but don’t address him as I’m still muttering about the voice I heard. I want to stay and see the mystery patient come out of the room, but Blake’s eager to get me out of there. The anesthetic they used has me in a bit of a fog which I blame for my delusions. Finally, Blake breaks the silence once we’re in the open canyon.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  “Yeah, I think so. Doesn’t look like they removed anything life sustaining,” I respond with a weak smile.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure,” he mumbles.

  “Huh?” I say.

  “What did they do? What did you see? Tell me exactly?” he asks, his tone fearful.

  “Sorry, I didn’t see anything. They decided to put me out because of my needle issues. Why, what do you think you know? I heard you and ‘
Ted’ last night, Blake. You seemed to be on quite the paranoia trip. You going to share?”

  “Oh. I thought you were asleep.”

  “Come on, isn’t it time you tell me what your story is?” I turn in my chair to look at him, which wrenches my abdomen enough to cause extreme agony. “Ugh. My stomach hurts.”

  “I’ve got to get back to start my classes on time, and you have to get some rest. Later, during free time I’ll tell you anything you want to know. I promise.”

  As much as it pains me, I stop our forward progress with my legs and stand up out of the wheelchair to face him. Since he’s still pushing, he whacks me in the knees with the chair, and I almost fall over.

  “You’ll tell me now or I’m not going anywhere.” I feel weak. If my shakiness doesn’t make me tank, the heat may. It feels unusually hot, and I can barely breathe. The relative darkness of the spot we stopped unnerves me, but I press on with my interrogation. “I have to know what happened to you that was so crappy that you think I’m going to hate you for it. I just can’t hang out all night imagining up crazy scenarios while I watch you do a bunch of boring online classes. I won’t do it. So, please tell me. Now.” The discomfort I’m causing Blake is apparent in his eyes and body language, but I refuse to back down. Although, I may not be able to stay upright for long. The combination of anesthesia and pain medications has me swaying.

  “Fine, but please sit so you don’t keel over.” He gently helps me back into the chair. He kneels in front of me, trembling, putting his hands on top of mine.

  “I’m sitting. Go ahead.”

  His eyes don’t leave mine as he speaks. “I’m just going to spew it out. Kira, the deal is that I was born here on Thera. My parents were Exiled for stealing government secrets. My dad was a Daynighter—just like that guy from Foreign Affairs we met—so he traveled back and forth between Earth and Thera doing business between the governments. He discovered some things he shouldn’t have and shared them with my mom not realizing everything they discussed was monitored. So they were both Exiled, despite the fact my mom was pregnant with me.