by Lara LaRue
I eyed Tammy as she walked into the bathroom to give me privacy to change, a little wary of her sincerity after the cold, impersonal treatment I had gotten for months. But she seemed nice, so once she shut the curtain, I turned my attention to the unexpected gift.
Out of the bag, I pulled a dress, shoes, bra, and panties—all in silk, even matching shoes. Everything was color-coordinated in shades of rose, pink, and cream, with little touches of green, reminding me of a flower.
The bra and panties matched. I’d never owned matching lingerie that wasn’t stark white, but these were a deep ivory color with sage green embroidery around the edges. I stripped down and tried them on. Both the bra and the panties fit perfectly; apparently, the full-body medical scan they had given me more than once doubled as a pretty good clothes-fitting guesser.
Over underwear, I pulled on a cream dress that fitted close to my breasts and skimmed my waist, but then widened across my hips and swung freely about my knees. The pumps had just enough of a heel to have me feeling feminine without having to worry about my balance.
After I was dressed, I called for Tammy, who came out saying, “Now about your hair…”
I got very worried. There was no way a blond government nurse was also experienced with the particulars of African-American hair styling. I liked my natural curls just the way they were, fluffy and not straightened.
But Tammy pleasantly surprised me again by pulling a rose-and-green scarf and some black rubber bands out of the bag, along with a wide-toothed comb and soft-bristled brush. “I didn’t know how you like to wear your hair, so I thought I’d bring you some gear and options.”
Oh, honey, where the hell have you been this whole time? I was completely amazed. Was Tammy new, or was she just the nurse in charge of quarantine discharge? I guessed the latter—she seemed completely at ease in the weird little cubicle.
Her little bag even held a desktop mirror and some makeup. We decided on a braid, but I held on to the silk scarf, tying it around my throat as a decoration. She helped me add some eyeliner and mascara, and even had some scented moisturizer for my dry skin. A few minutes later, I was finally ready to leave this place I’d called home for ten weeks.
Tammy guided me down corridor after corridor. The first few were obviously hospital-like in nature. After a few twists and turns, we came to a set of utilitarian hallways that seemed familiar.
When I heard the sound of children at play, I recognized that we were right outside the section of the Children’s Ward where I had grown up. I frowned, wondering what we were doing here.
With just a few more turns, we came to an amazing architectural lobby hall with luxury chairs, beautiful carpets, multiple corner pendants at varying heights, sculptural side tables, and rock-crystal overhead chandeliers. It was full of decorations of exotic design—reliefs and sculptures of some strange multicolored metal, which I immediately knew came from the aliens. A fountain was shaped like a narrow-towered castle, and terrariums were filled with odd, wildly colored plants. I stared at wonder after wonder.
I was raised this close to luxury?
It seemed that the cafeteria shared the kitchens of the Children’s Ward with the complex workers and its guests. After passing the cafeteria, we went down the hallway behind the kitchen area and straight into the opulence of the guest suites.
Rich fabrics, multihued crystal lights, and more gleaming statues greeted my every glance. I tried not to let my mouth drop open, but I felt like a tourist on her first visit to the big city. Tammy took me straight past the elevator bank, bypassing a check-in desk. I guessed I was expected.
We went down a short stretch of corridor where Tammy led us into a stretch of floor-to-ceiling windows. From my spot, I could see straight down a long street and into the heart of New Atlanta. I should have felt relief, finally getting a chance to see outside, but as I stared at the city spread out beneath us, it looked…desolate. The city covered all the land in metal and concrete. It was an ugly grey area with no trees or grass.
So many people.
So much excess.
So much…of everything except green.
It’s so damn sad.
The glorious, sparkling glass and metal gleamed at me through the windows, with only the swarms of people giving it any hint of life.
“Come on,” called Tammy, coaxing me away from the windows. “Just a bit farther.”
We turned down a short hallway to a set of double doors. After using a keycard for entry, she pushed open the doors, and I smelled food on the warm air that wafted out.
I was ushered into an apartment that easily could have fit four of Ivy’s flat in the front room alone. Directly in front of me was a sitting area with a chaise longue, a couch, and two posh chairs covered in deep sea-green fabric. To my left, beyond an alcove with a smaller couch in front of a monitor, was a set of gold-inlaid double doors. To my right, a dining table with enough chairs for eight people was set with several covered dishes.
Tammy’s smile vanished, and she once again became no-nonsense. “Through those doors is your private bedroom and bath. No one will go in there without your express permission, although it has already been stocked with other clothing and necessities for you. There’s a small kitchenette beyond the dining table. The other side of the alcove is a restroom for visitors. Here’s the intercom unit—” she pointed to a device on the wall above the small couch “—in case you need anything at all. If you want to go out into the city, there’s a car available for you.”
I stood there numbly, taking in the place and everything she was telling me. The contrast with what I had gotten used to in the Medical Ward left me wondering what part of the experiments this was. Something psychological? Maybe a moral ethics test? Is this where they are stashing me for a news crew, so they can pretend they didn’t have me in solitary in that damn cubicle for months?
“Where are the cameras?” I interrupted, looking around.
“What do you mean?” Tammy looked genuinely confused.
“The cameras? Where are they located? I’m not seeing the little lenses like I could in my cubicle or the bathroom.” I checked around again and shook my head.
Tammy laughed a bit nervously, “Oh! Don’t be silly! There aren’t any cameras in here. Why would anyone be watching you?”
Suddenly she didn’t seem that trustworthy anymore. I looked at her a bit dubiously as her chuckle trickled off. She blinked several times and took a deep breath. “So anyway. Where was I?”
“There’s a car available,” I prompted after a long pause. I kept eye contact with her now, which seemed to make her nervous. I knew she was aware of what I had gone through, the isolation, the tests, the sickness, and the constant monitoring. But after a moment, I offered a tiny, flat smile. Maybe she was being monitored herself, even now.
“Oh right, the car. Just use the intercom to schedule rides.” She brightened considerably and went on with her instructions. “And if there’s anyone you would like to see, call to Geoffrey, and he’ll arrange it immediately.”
My mind ignored the unfamiliar name and latched on to another detail. “Like, to see? As in visitors? I can have visitors?” My heart soared. Maybe I could see Ivy and the kids. Make sure they were all right. Let them know that, in spite of all this craziness, I was too.
“I’m sure. Geoffrey can also arrange for any books or other reading material you’d like. The monitor over there is voice-activated, so you just have to request a show or a channel, and it’ll get rolling for you.” It sounded like she had given this speech before.
“I’d like to see my family, then, please.” I wanted so much to surprise Ivy and the kids. Maybe see if they could stay overnight with me in this luxurious place, until it was decided whether I was going off-planet or not.
“You’ll have time to make those arrangements as soon as we’re done here,” she replied patiently. “For now, I’m sure you’re hungry. There’s food in the dishes on the table. Enjoy!”
Enjoy? Th
e whole situation was so bizarre that, this time, I fixed her with a very suspect stare. Why had they gone from treating me like a lab rat to treating me like a pampered guest?
Her smile started to crumble and then firmed again, and she lifted her chin. “Well, I’d better get back to the medical wing. Thank you for being such a great patient to work with.” With a wide smile, Tammy left the room and closed the doors quietly behind her.
Wow. Okay. I don’t know what’s changed, but I guess I should take advantage of it while I can. But still, I felt wary. I crossed my arms under my breasts, hugging my waist.
Slowly, I walked around the sitting area and over to the large picture windows that made up one entire wall of the apartment. I could see out over the whole Government Center and into the city beyond—an even better view than from the huge windows outside the cafeteria.
Again, the entire landscape looked both majestic and sterile. The Center was pristine. It was our government building, hospital, school, public housing, and civic center all in one place. It glittered and gleamed coldly, threw sharp flashes of light off corners and windows, and bustled with movement as people went about their business.
New Atlanta beyond provided a sharp contrast. What movement there was seemed furtive and skulking in the dingy streets. A haze hung sluggishly over all the buildings, which hunkered down against each other in various states of disrepair.
Way off in the distance, I could just barely make out the edge of the city. Beyond it lay a faint green strip. The beginnings of Landover, the designated suburban zone, where those who could afford it lived in clean housing away from the poverty of the city.
Ivy’s living pod had been moved to a better neighborhood once she had paid off her mortgage. Its new location was two-thirds of the way up one of the housing towers, well above the smog layer. We had thought of that little place as paradise, even after they had started cutting our water rations. But it had simply been a marginally better neighborhood in a slum that ran from the Center to the city outskirts.
Shaking off another wave of sadness, I turned away and went to check out my breakfast. I needed to calm down before I reached out to Ivy, and I had to figure out what to tell her.
Besides, the smell had me starving. It had been a long time since I had eaten food that actually smelled and tasted like food, instead of the pale, starchy paste that had become my staple during my illness.
I lifted up the platters’ covers and peeked beneath to see the offerings. Oh my God. There is so much food. Pancakes and waffles, sausage, bacon, fried chicken, crepes, fruit salad, melon slices, and toast with what I guessed might actually be real butter, a goddamn feast. More than enough for me, Ivy, and her kids for this meal and possibly another, depending on how hungry they were.
I wondered at the promise of guests and glanced at the intercom. It occurred to me that I had no idea who Geoffrey was. Maybe he was the attendant on the other side of the intercom. Should I try it? I shrugged my shoulder. What the hell? They could just tell me no.
For a centerpiece, the table had a basket of fruit. I reached out and plucked a handful of grapes off the bunch and took them with me over to the intercom, munching on a few to take the edge off.
Taking a deep breath and with a firm grasp on my most assertive voice, I pressed the buzzer. Immediately, a rich, cultured male voice responded. “Hello, Ms. Knight, this is Geoffrey. How may I help you?”
“Geoffrey. Nurse Tammy told me I could have visitors, and I could go out into the city. Is this possible?” I felt my stomach do a little flip of apprehension and excitement. I had missed my family so much.
“Of course, ma’am.”
“I would like a car brought around. I want to go collect my adoptive family and bring them back here to eat with me.” I couldn’t stand the idea of stuffing my belly while Ivy and those sweet kids tried filling their bellies with ration packets and a lot of water.
“Very good, ma’am. May I suggest, however, that as you’ve been ill, I contact Mrs. Fuller instead, and I’ll send a car for her and her children? Just bring them to you? That way the food is fresher and your energy levels stay up, ma’am.” His voice was precise, calm, reasonable, and without a touch of Tammy’s shiftiness.
I blinked in surprise. Who is this man? And how did he know about Ivy and her kids? This man knew so much about me without my telling him anything. I glanced about the room again to see if I could spot where the cameras might be. In the light fixtures? Part of the artwork on the walls? The mirrors? Or the window frames?
Wait, calm down. This guy was assigned to me. He’s part of the staff. He must have access to my medical data. I was being paranoid after my ordeal, and I shook my head at myself. “All right, Geoffrey,” I acquiesced. “That’ll be fine.”
“Very good, ma’am. We’ll prepare enough food for company for lunch, then. If you’ll let me know when you’re finished with your breakfast, I’ll have someone come and clear it away.”
“Um. Okay, I can do that.” I hesitated. “Can I ask a favor?”
“I beg your pardon, ma’am?” He sounded very curious, as if the request were novel. “Please elaborate.”
“There are a lot of kids at the Children’s Ward who won’t get a chance to eat food like this very often. Can I donate what I don’t use?” I knew it was a weird request, but it was the only way I’d feel like I could settle my conscience about the rich meal. It just didn’t feel right to eat so much otherwise.
“I will inquire after the matter with the kitchen staff. It should not be a problem, provided none of the children have prohibitive allergies.” He sounded so smooth and calm that he reminded me somehow of talking to a teaching artificial intelligence system.
“Good. I will let you know when I’m finished.” I went back to the table, my mouth starting to water.
“Thank you, ma’am.” And the voice was gone.
I stood for a moment, still a little confused by the experience, and then sank down onto a plush chair. I opened several of the platters to see my selections. The options nearly overwhelmed me. In the end, I took a little bit of everything and felt like I was having a feast day. Scrambled eggs, we ate often enough, if the reconstituted powder counted anyway, but not real biscuits, much less real gravy. The bacon and sausage tasted divine. The two things I enjoyed the most were the coffee and the fresh fruit. When we bought our fruit, it was usually very close to being overripe. These grapes and bananas were perfect.
I saved some of those, as well as the apples, pears, and oranges for later. They were the kids’ favorites. The coffee was heavenly. Long after I was finished eating, I sat and sipped at multiple cups of the heady brew, rich and aromatic—real stuff, without the greasy aftertaste of synthetics. This coffee tasted like it had been ground from real beans, just like Ivy’s Christmas gift last year. I just sat and enjoyed.
A loud chime sounded throughout the room. I jumped, startled. “What was that?”
To my surprise, Geoffrey’s voice immediately answered over the intercom, “Ms. Knight, that is your doorbell. Ambassador Reynauld is here to see you. May I send him up?”
I feel myself tense up and set aside my cup. “Who is Ambassador Reynauld? I don’t know this person.”
“Ambassador Reynauld is one of the Peace Opportunity Program Ambassadors, ma’am. He is one of the maintainers of the agreement between the Juhlians and Earth.”
Juhlians. Finally, someone gave me the name for the race of aliens. When I’d first arrived here, my briefing on the aliens had been very short. “Oh.” I paused. “Well, send him in, please, Geoffrey.”
“Yes, ma’am. He’ll be up directly.” The connection silenced.
I wasn’t sure what to do with myself. Should I sit and be relaxed when he came in? Or answer the door attentively? Should I be aloof or bubbly? How should I treat this man who had helped to change my whole future for better or worse?
I finally sat on the chaise longue, arranged my dress about me, and draped my arm across its back. I fe
lt terribly awkward and pretentious. I gave a slight chuckle at myself and decided dramatic presentation was not quite my style. At the knock on the double doors, I stood, caught my balance, and took a step in that direction.
“I’ve got it, ma’am,” came Geoffrey’s voice. I heard the lock click, and I blinked in confusion.
“Who are you, Geoffrey?” I demanded.
“I am a computer interface, ma’am. I control the systems in your room, and also the auto-car assigned to you.” His voice sounded stunningly human, except for its serenity, which suddenly made me sense.
“So, you aren’t a person, a concierge waiting behind some desk?” I asked, quite bewildered.
“No, ma’am. Unless you want to think of me as your personal concierge. I am here for you and you alone.” I could hear feet walking down the hall toward my suite.
This was too fascinating to brush aside yet. “What can you do?”
“I am connected with the system that encompasses the entire Center. I can control the doors and contact the staff of the building. I can control the communications within the building and the services, such as plumbing, room service, maintenance, communication…”
Wow. If a hacker ever took control of Geoffrey, they could throw the whole complex into utter chaos. “Okay. Thank you.”
I needed to wrap my head around this Geoffrey concept. I had my own personal computer porter. I didn’t even know what to do about that.
“Shall I let the ambassador through the inner door now, ma’am?” asked Geoffrey. “Otherwise he will be waiting.”
Distractedly, I replied, “Yes. Please, Geoffrey.”
The double doors swung open as if by magic. A short, balding, sweating man in a rumpled suit came scuttling toward me, his nose leading by almost an inch. I tried not to back away, but it was difficult. Something about him seemed kind of creepy.
“Hello, Eva. May I call you Eva?” He didn’t wait for an actual answer. “Good. My name is Reynauld. You may call me Ambassador or just Reynauld. One of the two,” he laughed, his voice thin and nervous.