by Tia LaBeau
I can’t believe my ears. “How many credits will she be?”
“One million only,” Olivinia Evawa says, “but you can hardly put a price tag on love.”
I’m shocked at the price. I can’t believe that the price is so high, that others that I know have paid such a grand fee. Some of them couldn’t have paid so much. I say all this to Olivinia Evawa.
“We charge on a sliding scale. We performed a background check on you, and we’ve checked your assets. The process began as soon as you walked through the door. We have scanners that provide us with the information we need to do the check.”
“I see, so I’m being charged so highly because I have the credits.”
“Precisely, but rest assured that we’ve provided you a higher caliber of bride to choose from, tier 3. Now, if you’d like to go up a tier, it will cost you double.”
“No, no,” I say. “Tier three is fine.” In fact, I’m wondering what a tier 7 might cost me, but suddenly I am aware of Olivinia’s current stare. I wouldn’t want her to get the idea that I’m in the market for a scam. I swallow hard. “A million credits is no problem. She seems worth it.”
“If you say so,” Olivinia says and grins. I’m not sure if that’s a response that makes sense, and she says this almost cryptically as if she’s trying to give me a hint that I ought to change my mind.
“What do you think of her?” I ask.
“Oh, she’s lovely looking, isn’t she? It’s not up to me to say anything to the clients that may sway them in any direction. The selection must be all your own, understand?”
“Yes, I understand.”
“So should I pull out the contract. If so, I can have you out of here with your new wife lickety-split. Say the word, and we can go over the finer details of the arrangement.”
Part of me wants to run for my life, but this has been a part of my plan for a while now. Now that the opportunity is here, it’s hard to say no, so I don’t. “I’d like to sign the contract please.”
Olivinia Evawa clasps her hands together. “I’m so glad we can be of service to you, Xerxes Nic. Now let’s go over the details. Here’s the contract,” she says as she presses on her tablet. “We’ve sent the contract to your communicator account. Unless of course, you’d like to receive through some other means.”
“No, that way is fine.”
“Once you read through the contract and agree to the terms by pressing your print on the line, you can indicate how you wish to deliver the funds for the fee.”
I pull out my own tablet and prepare my accounts. Then I pull up the contract, select that I’d like to read it in Sewvi and review the terms. It’s all in there regarding the procurement of a wife on fraudulent terms. Also, the following additional terms of the contract stick out to me:
1. I have the option of returning my bride within one month for a 75% refund should she be deemed unsuitable for any reason. I need not disclose the reason before the thirty-day deadline.
2. After the thirty day deadline, I may only receive a refund of 50% of the amount paid. I may not return my bride after six months. I can only return my bride between the months 2-6 for the following reasons:
a.) Bride becomes ill with a disease that should have been detected during her medical screening. Burden of proof falls on the client.
b.) Bride is unfaithful according to the standards of the type of marriage entered upon. The burden of proof is on the client.
c.) Bride has left the home and hasn’t returned for a period longer than the 14 days of non-negotiable holiday (if she so chooses to take said 14 days of holiday). Burden of proof is on the client.
The terms are heavy. I suppose I could save myself the trouble by leaving the mall and procuring a wife on my own. I am told that this may require something called dating, and who has time for that. And this dating may possibly lead to a long courtship. I have no interest in either of those things.
I press my finger on the line and transfer the funds.
Olivinia Evawa shakes my hand. “Congratulations!”
“Thank you,” I say.
“Now as per Teros law, the two of you must perform a ceremony before us. Now, if you’d like to have an additional ceremony, with family and friends present, then you may do so once you and your wife leave this facility with marriage papers in hand. We can assist with all of the arrangements for a larger ceremony.”
I do not plan on having an additional ceremony. I don’t tell Olivinia Evawa that because then she may be on to me. “We allow one Cerean revolution cool off period, Mr. Nix. Do you wish to take it?”
I mull this over. I get one revolution to change my mind. I could leave and come back later with a decision. I’m not a man who hesitates too long. Hesitation leads to overthinking. “No, I do not need a cool off period,” I say.
“Good then, I will take you to the groom’s dressing room, where you will be prepared to meet your bride. When you enter the dressing room, you will be informed of your bride’s wedding wishes. These will include what sort of attire she’d like you to wear. You will also be provided a script for what you will say at the ceremony. Further, if you wish to purchase a ring for her, we provide the very best selection of wedding rings in your tier. Now, Mr. Nix,” she says, “follow me.”
I follow her to the dressing room which is at the end of a narrow white hall.
“If you need any assistance during the preparations for your wedding, please press the button there on the wall, and someone will come to assist you. In your welcome packet, there is a link for ring purchasing should you choose to do so. We include everything else in your wedding package, including a complimentary honeymoon stay at the luxurious Ceres Palace Hotel.”
“Thank you,” I say.
She leaves me alone in the dressing room. There’s a compartment. I step in front of it, and the door slides open. Inside hangs a cream colored tunic and matching pants made from a scratchy material. It’s my size. This Moon Company establishment is quite responsive. I suppose they had their scanners measure me when I walked through the door.
I dress in the clothing. I don’t much like it, but what does that matter. It’s only a matter of formality. A voice says, “Would you like to see our selection of wedding rings?”
I have heard of these. I’ve heard human males speak of them before, how expensive they are and the like. It is one custom which I can understand. On Sewvi, a mate shows how much they care for their betrothed by providing a sign in the form of a treasure dedication. The ring would count as that. I wager that if I am to convince my bride of the fact that I am sincere, that a token of my affection would speak more than words, so I pick the most expensive ring there is. I hope she likes it.
When I’m ready for the ceremony, I press the button. “How may we be of service,” a female voice says. The voice is different from the receptionist bot’s voice, and it’s different from Olivinia Evawa’s voice.
“I am ready to be wed,” I say.
“Good then, Mr. Nic. The future Mrs. Nic awaits you in the hall of ceremonies. Please follow the illuminated signs as you travel outside of the dressing room.”
I follow the green illuminated signs towards Moon Company’s version of a bright and beautiful future.
Location: Multiple, Population: Unknown
The station is loud and crowded, which is good since I didn’t even take the time to purchase a convincing disguise for myself. All I’ve got is a beanie pulled down low on my head.
I push my way through a swath of people, not being rude, just working my way through the crowd. I’ll admit, I’m nervous as hell because, in the private security world, security agencies reimburse other agencies for their assistance, so that means that there could be people in this station looking for me right now.
I made sure to leave my room just as it was, so they think that I haven’t left for good. Once they check my cred account and see the withdrawal and transfers I made they’ll know that I’ve skipped town.
Skippin
g town makes me look very guilty, but it also protects me from getting sucked into a system that’s rigged by the highest cred makers and the most powerful. I can’t trust that they will deal with either my sister or me in a fair way, so I’ve had to take matters into my hands.
When I get to the ticket terminal, I enter in my intended destination, the moon Io. A red message flashes on the screen. All tickets to Io have been canceled for the next turn due to weather. Next, I try Europa, but all tickets to Europa are sold out. I search available tickets leaving within the next few minutes. There is a ticket to the dwarf planet Ceres, which is located in the asteroid belt. It’s half-price. I can go for that. I figure the last place Rock security will be looking for me is in the asteroid belt.
I run to terminal Ceres. I don’t want to miss the ship. Ceres is halfway between here and Jupiter. I figure that once I’m on Ceres, I can take a hop to Io as soon as the weather clears there.
As soon as I get to the terminal, I fall into the short line meant for boarding the ship.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up because I’m afraid that any moment, I’m going to hear someone call my name. I’ll find myself in cuffs and then thrown into a holding cell. I avoid eye contact as much as possible and try to play it cool as I get closer to the gate.
I wonder about Freda, too. I hope she’s okay and I hope that for her sake, she sticks to our story.
I remember the bruises on her body that Zeid caused and I can’t help but feel sick to my stomach that he’d do that to her. I knew he was bad news when I first laid eyes on him, but I didn’t think he’d go that far, not even close. I just figured he might be pushy in the bar, but not to the point of physically hurting her. Pushing up on her in the bar in a crass way might have been enough to spook her, though, considering what happened when she was younger.
“You may now board,” a voice says from the terminal speaker.
I step aboard the ship and walk down the long dark reception hall toward the passenger station. The ship isn’t very full. It’s small too compared to some of the other ships. There aren’t many people traveling to the asteroid belt. They come from many different places, some are obviously transplants from Protos, while others are clearly from Teros because they’re human.
A tall blond woman smiles at me. “Welcome aboard The Queen Elizabeth, may I provide you with a refreshment pack?”
My stomach is in so many knots that I don’t even want to think about eating, but I know I should eat something in order to keep up my energy. “How much is it?” I ask.
“Ten creds,” she says.
I hand her ten single cred pieces. She hands me a pack filled with a drink, a seaweed sandwich, bark chips, a face cloth, and a small toothbrush and paste. “Thank you,” I say.
“Thank you,” she replies. “Now, please find a comfortable seat. There are so few passengers aboard that seats are not assigned. It’s first come first serve for the seat of your choosing. I hadn’t even bothered to select a seat when I purchased the ticket, which is something that one could do. If you didn’t select a seat, the system usually selected a random one for you.
I make my way to the passenger section to find my seat. I work my way to the back of the ship. I pick a seat in the corner closest to the window. That way, I can tuck my head in the space between the side of my seat and my window. This way, I will be able to conceal my face and attempt to get some shuteye.
Some gigantic ships have hair salon terminals, but I don’t think this ship is big enough to have one. Makes sense, since the asteroid belt isn’t really some place where people get jazzied up to go. This sucks because I was planning on visiting the salon terminal in order to disguise myself a bit. Ships to Io are always huge, and I was banking on the salon terminals they have there to help me out.
Lots of people love to travel to Io. On Io there is a huge metropolis with lots to see and lots to do, but the belt, not so much. I have heard, though, that if one is traveling to the belt, that the Cerean Mall is a must see. My plan is to head there as soon as I get to Ceres. Maybe I can make my disguise there.
After everything that has happened, I don’t expect that I’ll be able to fall asleep on this ride very easily. This isn’t one of those trips long enough to require cryosleep, but damnit, I wish that it did. That way, I could close my eyes and not have to be conscious for a while. The only benefit of not going into cryosleep is that I’ll be pretty alert when I get off of the ship. Being alert is key in all this.
The countdown starts for the ship to push off from the station. I almost feel relieved. After a while, I feel my eyes getting heavy. Oh my, I think I’m actually falling asleep.
When I wake up, I check the small screen in front of me to see how far we are from Ceres. A human man comes over to my seating section. He’s blond and scruffy. “Can I sit here?” he asks.
“It’s a free system,” I say, but I don’t mean it. The last thing I want is some company. And if this guy thinks that I’m looking for a boyfriend, well, he’s sadly mistaken. My last boyfriend was the biggest fucking liar in Teros. If there’s anything I can’t stand, it’s a liar. Well, okay, I told a lie to Rock Security regarding Zeid, but I believe that lie was necessary. My ex-boyfriend Beck told the dumbest lies anyone could think of, and a lot of times, for the stupidest reasons. That fucking idiotic, stupid, limp dicked ass-hole! Okay, I need to calm down. Beck is in the past, and running for my fucking life is in the future. Isn’t that nice?
“So, you headed to the belt? I don’t see very many females headed there,” the annoying guy says. “I’m Carlo Jiupi.” He puts out his hand, and even though I don’t want to I shake it, I do. I shake it firmly so that he knows that I don’t play.
He doesn’t seem put off by my death grip of a handshake. He smiles. “You prepared to be an endangered species out there in the belt? You know usually, it’s the ugly ones going out to the belt because it’s much easier to catch somebody there where there isn’t a lot of competition.”
“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” I say.
He shrugs. “I’m sensing that you want me to fuck off. Do you want me to fuck off?”
“How’d you know?” I ask with a smirk.
“Well, for starters, you’re wearing the fuck-off expression and then there’s the fact that you’ve got your arms crossed which means that you’re closed off.”
I have to give it to the guy, at least he’s perceptive. “You’re absolutely right,” I say. “Nothing personal just had a bad fucking day.”
“I got it. Maybe you can’t afford the feminine cessation pills, so you’re cranky and all that. I grew up poor. Mom and sis couldn’t afford those pills neither. Made them the bitchiest, mother fucking bitches on Mars.”
“You say bitch with so much vigor,” I say. “Now fuck off!”
He raises his hands. “Okay, okay, no need to get testy.”
He shoves off, and I settle back down in my seat. News is playing on the screen. And that’s when I see my face plastered there. I look around quickly. Is anyone else watching this? There’s other stuff to watch and do on the ship, so I’m hoping nobody recognizes me. I don’t see the guy who I snubbed, and it doesn’t seem like anybody recognizes me. If that fucker gets a load of me on the news, he’s sure to turn me in. I know it.
Shit, I’ve got to myself to get to an effing hair terminal and fast. Sometimes, there’s the kind of people who will spot a fugitive, report it for a reward, but they do it so sneakily that they don’t even tip off the person on the run.
The lady who welcomed me aboard the ship could do it too. I’m scared shitless now, damn. I’m out in the middle of space, and the only option I have is jacking a space pod. I’d have to jack it because the pods on this ship are only for passengers to use in case of an emergency. If I activate one of those, I’d be giving it away that I was a suspicious person because shit, I’m jacking a fucking space pod, out in the middle of nowhere, without an emergency. Why the hell would I be doing that, unless I�
�ve got some fucked up shit going on?
I pull the beanie further down over my eyes, but I continue to watch the news. They’ve got my name up there and everything. The reporter is saying that the Rock Security firm, retained by the Governor of Mars, Hiternum Furmi, is looking for me. They want to ask me questions about the death of the Governor’s son, who they found in my kitchen. The story is up there, according to the way I planned it, though, which is good. My sister found Zeid dead in her kitchen. She didn’t know what happened. She took a sedative to fall asleep because she has trouble sleeping, etc., etc.
The ticker moving across the screen says that Rock security confirms I called them, that I admitted to the killing, but there’s no mention that he was an intruder. What the fuck? ‘Was it murder’ it says up on the screen? They’re asking that mother fucking question which I feared, but they’re not asking it about my sister, and that was the ultimate goal.
The Governor’s got time to spin the story now, and I see that he already has. He’s undoubtedly doing it with the help of Rock Security. Those fuckers, Mr. Drek and his fucking smug smile. I’m glad I’m not going to be working for that asswipe now.
The news moves on to a land dispute happening on Europa. I’m sure they’ll be circling back to my story. I hope it’s after I make it off this ship. My mind goes back to Freda, who I can’t risk contacting. I left my comms on my bed. Without my comms on me, it will be hard for them to track me.
I’ll have to procure a fake chip once I get to the Asteroid belt if there’s scum out there selling them. I’m sure I can find somebody, although I might have to go digging in the seedier parts of the belt to find what I need. How bad can things get? Certainly no worse than this.
To try to take my mind off of things, I close my eyes. Then I realize that I’m cold, so I pull the cover from a bin located underneath my seat. I pull it up over my face.
I can’t sleep anymore, and especially not now. I’m even afraid to go to the bathroom. There’s no way I’ll be able to hold it until I get to Ceres, but at least I’m in the back of the ship. There’s a bathroom here that I can try to slink into if shit gets to the tinkling on myself stage.