After wandering past the waste and recycling and cistern management centers without stopping—careers equally as dull as food distribution—I finally find Blake, who is embroiled in conversation with a ‘Foreign Relations’ specialist, dubbed a ‘Daynighter.’ The man handles relations between the Second Chance Institute offices on Earth and Garden City. Blake asks seemingly innocent questions like, “So how far do you have to travel to get to the exit portal?”, “Do you get to work directly with the Grand Council?”, and “How much time do you spend on either side?” He feigns great interest in the man’s work and likely learns more than he was supposed to, such as the fact the man works within the Council headquarters building, presents to them once a month, and splits his time equally between the two sides. The guy grandstands his job like it’s the second coming for both worlds’ political landscape. I listen to the exchange while enjoying the view out past the Eco barrier and towards the ‘ocean.’
Once burned out on foreign affairs, Blake drags me past the City Center Medical Clinic and directly to the Grand Council Headquarters’ building at the far end of a huge plaza. Unlike any other building in town, it stands apart with its stone edifice and multistory height. Tiny lights, embedded into the mortar, wash the building with stunning color and brightness that would win any Christmas light competition. If its scaled-down counterpart is any indication, the real Headquarters building must be spectacular. Given that it was built on the highest point of the highest canyon top, I’d have to imagine it can be seen for miles in every direction.
The same man who greeted us upon entry to Thera does so again. This time, he introduces himself as Brad Darcton, a member of the presiding Ten of the Grand Council. Or, in other terms, Theran bigwig.
Whereas we’d been allowed to question the other representatives, Brad grills us for twenty minutes about our experiences to date and areas of career interest based on what we’ve seen so far. He then explains in broad generalities about the work done within the headquarters building, including Cleave contracts, Council sessions, additions of new Canon to the Circle of Compliance, and rulings on adjustment to resident status on the Circle. When I dare ask how the government structure differs between Garden City and the other Theran cities he suddenly has an urgent meeting to attend and directs us towards the Weather Center for final instruction. Blake takes me by my hand, ready to move on.
I hesitate, dragging as I watch Brad Darcton enter the model Headquarter’s building and see a young man with dark hair and a five o’clock shadow greet Brad. I freeze in my tracks and yank my hand away from Blake. The guy looks a whole lot like Ethan, but I can’t get a good enough look. So, I briskly walk towards the building. Brad sees me and motions the man away.
Blake follows me and asks, “What are you doing, Kira?”
“That guy that Brad Darcton was talking to in there. I swear I know him,” I say. Perhaps I need psychiatric help. Every single time I see a dark haired guy I think it’s Ethan and my stomach goes haywire, I want it to be the case so much.
“Doubtful,” Blake says. “Come on, we’re due at the Weather Center.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I’m coming.” I stare back at the Headquarters building. It’s the not knowing that gets to me, I think. Ethan was never confirmed dead. The continual ‘what ifs’ are a killer. Brad steps back out of the building.
“Ms. Donovan, can I help you with something?” he asks. “Mr. Sundry, go ahead to the Weather Center. I’ll send her along shortly.” Blake looks concerned, but slowly walks away.
I ignore Blake and turn to Brad Darcton. “That guy you were talking to. Is his name Ethan? He looks so much like a guy I met on Earth.”
“Under what circumstances did you meet this… Ethan?” he asks.
“Oh, I met him at a party and we talked for a long time. But then he disappeared and I’ve been wondering what happened to him,” I say. I don’t bring up the explosion or the fact that Ethan may very well be dead, not wanting to sound crazy and all.
“I believe that you were warned in your training that you’d likely run into people on Thera that you’d known previously,” he says. “Need I remind you about our Rules concerning discussing past relationships or acknowledging you know them with Second Chancers? It’s important not to run up to every person you think you might know and try to figure out if you have some sort of shared past.”
“Was that man a Second Chancer?” I ask. Ethan didn’t seem to be the kind of guy who would do something where he’d need a second chance.
“We really try to make every citizen of Garden City feel important and not thrust labels on them,” he says. “Now run along and I’ll expect you to be more careful in the future.” I shiver, as his stern warning sounds more like a threat. Discussing the past with a Second Chancer is cause for immediate Exile, I remind myself. It’s a five minute walk to the Weather Center and I chastise myself the entire way for irking a member of the Ten.
“What was that about?” Blake asks.
“Brad was just refreshing me on the rules concerning Second Chancers. I really don’t get what it would hurt to acknowledge you knew someone before, but I’d definitely prefer to avoid making a member of the Ten angry again,” I say.
“No kidding. Don’t beat yourself up about it, though. I’m sure he was just trying to protect you from getting into trouble,” Blake says. “Let’s go learn about weather and get your mind off of it.”
“Let’s,” I say, although my attention is still back at what I saw transpire at Headquarters.
The Weather Center sits atop an ocean cliff and monitors incoming storms, as hurricane-level rains and flash floods threaten the community every few months. Ah, so there is rain here. They tell us they’re going to run us through a training drill that simulates the experience of being in the canyons during a storm, the description of which terrifies me and will likely give me nightmares for years. I’m so busy trying to decide whether it was Ethan I saw or not and what reason he could have to be on Thera that I completely miss the whole part about ‘how to survive a flash flood in the canyons.’ Mental note to avoid it so that my non-existent skills will be never be put to the test.
We hike down the mini canyon towards the cement floor, as directed, with some difficulty. Although the canyon lights create a spectacular show from afar, they don’t provide the best lighting to keep steady footing, alternating between blinding when close to the lights and barely visible away from them. Once close to the bottom of the canyon we hear a warning siren. Torrents of water and mud attack us from every angle. I immediately regret being inattentive during the survival lecture. Blake grabs a rope ladder, and then me, pulling us up toward safety as if he is some sort of pro. I can’t see or hear, much less climb. Blake works for both of us, saving my life. They wouldn’t have let us die in a training exercise, would they? Thankfully, Blake only had to pull me up a fraction of the way he’d have had to if we’d been out in a real canyon. A guy hanging from a zip line gives us a hand at the end and explains that he uses the lines during real emergencies to do rescues.
Mud covering every inch of our bodies, our escort arrives to shuttle us to the gym to shower and exercise. As we mount the moving sidewalk to return to the train, both Blake and I notice another door open and get a glimpse inward before our escort shields our view. From the slice I saw, it had to be a scaled down version of Farm City and although neither of us comments, we both know that behind each door lays each of the settled Theran cities and a wealth of knowledge only obtainable by reaching the Grand Council inner circles. Our escort attempts a cover up by saying, “That’s a test farm to see if Garden City soil will work for growing food.”
Even he knows his explanation falls short.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Ethan
“So I talked to her that night. What’s the big deal? She couldn’t find her slimeball boyfriend or best friend and I helped her out,” I say as I pace the floor of the scaled down administration building. She’d been less than fifty feet a
way and recognized me and my father refused to let me talk to her. He ushered me away and then went out to scare her off. For two months I’ve felt like a freaking peeping Tom, watching her from afar, banned from getting anywhere near her. The only time I’d been allowed in spitting distance was upon her arrival when they’d drugged her and I’d been used to transport her to her room.
“Your orders were clear. Observe only,” my father says. “She says the two of you talked ‘for a long time.’ That’s a far cry from observation.”
“For years you searched for the perfect female specimen to Cleave to me. You find a pure Light, send me to watch her and expect me not to see for myself whether she’s cleavable material?” I say incredulously. “What better way to observe than to have a conversation? I don’t specifically remember you specifying that I couldn’t talk to her.” What does he expect from a law student? I’m hard-wired to find loopholes.
“I told you there was competition,” he says. “The Grand Council voted to partner the two of them and see how things progressed, given the boy Blake’s clean health record.”
I run my hands through my hair. All my life, I’ve listened to my parents complain ad nauseum about my heart defect. Even though I have a completely clean bill of health now, it still haunts me, and if Kira ends up with Blake, it always will. “I’m not okay with this. I plan to talk to Dr. Christo and see what the real odds are for my heart defect being passed along. All I want is a shot… to date her and see where things go.”
“Patience… I have a plan. And you’re an integral part. I’ve got a way to satisfy the Ten’s desires for the girl and make sure you fulfill your destiny. If you go screw it up by pursuing the girl, then the Grand Council will think we’re making a play. We are, but can’t let them know we are.”
“I don’t want anything forced on her. Not Blake. Not me,” I say.
“It’s not up to you. Or even up to me. Remember that we all answer to someone. Even the Council. And a purebred Light Original… well, she’s a game changer, Son. You’re going to just have to let it all play out. And, well, if it doesn’t work, your Uncle Henry can find you a suitable mate on Earth.”
My Uncle Henry’s a well known, well liked politician with a bright future. Law degree. Wealthy. Extensive social circle. His life is one giant fundraiser. And Uncle Henry likes to show off his family. There’s a lot of people who want to be in Uncle Henry’s good graces. A lot of campaign-donating, obnoxious men with agendas. And they have sons and daughters. The sons get foisted on my cousins (Uncle Henry has two daughters, both older than me). The donors’ daughters, however, get flung my way. Uncle Henry brokers dates like he would business deals. If he wants Joe CEO to be his Next Big Donor, then Joe’s daughter is my next date to Critical Fundraiser.
FBD (Fundraiser Blind Date) usually boils down to the following… on the physical side we’ve got bleach blonde, nose job, boob job, expensive clothes, even more expensive shoes and corresponding purse. She’s usually fairly attractive if you go for the half human/half plastic thing, which I don’t. On the personality side we have entitled, whiny, slutty, lazy, pushy, and downright annoying because they talk incessantly about absolutely nothing of importance. Once we go on our date to Critical Fundraiser, FBD tries to blackmail me into a MBR (Mutually Beneficial Relationship) e.g. her daddy will make a huge donation to my Uncle if I agree to become her sex slave (or make her my sex slave, depending on the girl and her particular set of preferences).
When Jax visits, Uncle Henry arranges for the Ultimate Bimbo double dates. These I actually enjoy. As annoying and meddling as I find Jax, he’s pure entertainment when placed around Dumb and Dumber Barbies. They’re so charmed by his dimpled smile and double speak that they leave me alone and don’t even realize he’s insulting and demeaning them in every possible way. “You are so charitable, Mandy. The fabric saved on making your dress could clothe an entire orphanage. And as an added bonus, all the hard-up men here tonight won’t even have to spend money on porn tonight.” “Vivs, you’re a shoo-in for Miss America and for our future Secretary of State. Your idea to drop signed love notes and chocolate hearts instead of bombs throughout the Middle East and Africa would definitely get the attention of every misguided soul. I’m sure they’d want to become your BFF online and maybe even pay you a most personal visit.” Unfortunately, Jax pops by infrequently and thus, I have to endure most my dates without his help.
Sarah was the most recent Uncle Henry Setup and she won the award for Owning Most Raincoats to Show Up at Door With Nothing On Under. And it hardly ever rained in San Diego. My Uncle forced me to take her to two separate events and she assumed that meant a marriage proposal was on the horizon. Holy freaking psycho, this girl made it her mission to try to seduce me. If I saw one more of her artificially enhanced body parts on display by text, email or in person, I would have gouged out my eyes out with her high priced stilettos. I heard her talking once to a friend on the phone about ‘when he gets me pregnant, he’ll have to marry me.’ For the first time in ages, I looked forward to leaving for a summer on Thera just to escape her.
Beth had a rare attribute that most the others didn’t—a brain. She’d been studying to get her MBA and planned to be a CEO like her daddy (who was honestly named Joe). She thought we would make the perfect Power Couple. I didn’t hate her, but wasn’t the least bit attracted to her and man, she bored me to death. Sure, it’s great you can use calculus to price stock options, but a decent dinner conversation that does not make.
Courtney creeped me out big time. She paid the photographer at Bigwig Local Fundraiser for all pictures taken of us separately and together and had a book made and delivered to me. She even used one of those photomerge baby makers to show me how lovely our 2.5 children would be (yes, she had a half a baby in our ‘family photo.’) Enough said.
Aliya believed in mixing alcohol and pharmaceutical drugs. She had major daddy issues and felt the best way to address said issues was to embarrass the heck out of daddy in public. And I do say found great success in this endeavor. Stripped down to a sheer corset, thong and heels, and then table danced… very memorable for all in attendance, including the San Diego Police Department.
I’m sure there are lots of guys who’d have been thrilled to have girls throwing themselves at them. But nothing interested me less than abject desperation. And given that my father threatened early on to put a bullet in my brain if I had sex with any girl before he found me a ‘proper Cleave’… well, there wasn’t a whole lot these girls could offer.
That’s why meeting Kira felt so different. She was naturally beautiful without any plastic parts. She was brilliant. Funny. Caring. Loyal. Flirty, but not pushy. Sweet. I know that I did not imagine the connection with her. But there was no way I was going to act on it at the time. She had a boyfriend and I was on assignment. She clearly didn’t have a great impression about the SCI after taking the Test, so I didn’t point out my ties to the SCI.
Loopholes… there has to be a way around my father and the rest of the Ten on this. It’s just so unfair that this Blake guy’s been given unlimited access to her. The Ten even has them as partners and roommates. The Ten wants the two of them to Cleave? I wonder how Blake feels about permanent cohabitation with a girl he barely knows on this nightmare rock called Thera? Given I haven’t been banned from spending time with Blake, perhaps I should remind him about the consequences of getting too close to my Cleave interest?
It’s time to put myself back in the game.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Blake
My head will freaking explode if they shove any more crap in it. There’s the propaganda, the Canon, the questions, stuff I learned about the city’s layout, and then there’s the plans—mine to help my father, and the Theran rulers’ plans for Kira and me. I use my workouts to sort the data into the appropriate list and file it away, because I know I’m going to need it all at some point to get out of this mess.
Masterminding the bogus relationship was genius and
has given Kira and me time to try to sort the truths from the used car salesman spiel. Kira’s often able to spot the missing pixels from the picture better than I can, so I process data twice as fast with her around. The problem with my grand plan is that I sometimes find it hard to remember that our ‘relationship’ is all for show. Touching her face and holding her hand has me feeling stuff I haven’t felt in a long time, distracting stuff that could lead to mistakes.
Kira’s been staring at me the entire workout like I’m the sole food supply on a deserted island. It helps our cover I guess, but kills my concentration. It’s not like we can act on the physical attraction to get it out of our system. We’d end up Cleaved and there’s no way I’m being saddled down with that baggage. So, I pretend to pull a muscle lifting and make the excuse that I’m going to go soak it off in the locker room whirlpool. Once settled into the whirlpool’s water, I hike the jet and bubble action to max and relax for the first time in a week, though the feel of the water reminds me of our flash flood training. We’d only had ten minutes training before the exercise and yet I’d gotten us out of danger as if I’d had years’ training. I hope they assumed my survival instinct kicked in and not guessed the truth, which is that I experienced a horrifying and quite real flash flood when I was six.
daynight Page 9