by Ann Christy
That caught Lillian’s attention and she smiled. The dream of beating Zara’s mark was one that all potential runners shared. Lillian was no different in that regard. Zara winked at her changed expression and then laughed as Lillian started at another of the bright flashes of light. Just then the door behind them burst open and a sleep tousled group of trainers came in and crowded the small room.
Greg found her with his eyes almost immediately and Lillian felt a whole different kind of fluttering in her stomach. She had seen so little of him since Zara had confronted her and both of them had scrupulously avoided any time alone together. It lifted her spirits to see how his eyes roamed her face like he was drinking her in. He caught the next flash of light from the screen but didn’t startle and ‘oooh’ like everyone else in the room. He just gave her the smallest of nods. It made her feel so much better.
Almost everyone in the small room was riveted to the screen and the increasing flashes of light and didn’t catch the exchange. The exception was Zara, the ever observant Zara. Lillian felt Zara tug her toward the door by her elbow. As they wended their way through the tight press of people, Lillian looked back and gave Greg one last look. He smiled at her and the smile mirrored her feelings well.
Zara sent her off to get a bit of sleep tea in hopes that a long rest would be followed by a run outside if the conditions they had just seen passed as expected. The medic she woke made her tea, measuring out the amount of the dirt scented roots with a careful eye. He even watched her drink it, not taking his eyes off her even during a wide yawn that gave Lillian a perfect view of his back molars. There was no honey in the medical bay and she had to choke it down straight.
She handed him the cup, thanked him and then went straight to her room as instructed. She paused at Leo’s door and rested a hand on the cold metal. He wasn’t there she knew, but it was the closest she could get to him for the moment. He was back at home, with his parents and her mother. Sweetie and he were planning to declare for each other once a respectable amount of time had passed after the race. Even in that they were both the most considerate people, waiting so that she could enjoy the glory of her run while giving the family something joyous to focus on.
With a final pat on the door, Lillian went to her room and closed her door against the dim lights of the hallway. The room wasn’t completely dark. Few rooms in the silo ever were. A tiny but perceptible bit of light leaked into the room from under the door and through the red light on the light switch, meant to guide a person to the switch in case of need. She heard the sound of someone else in the room and stiffened against the door. It could only be one person.
“Greg,” she said quietly into the darkness.
“Hey, Lil,” he answered. His voice was soft in the darkness. “Don’t worry. This isn’t as creepy as it might first appear.”
She could hear the smile in his voice and it lifted her heart. “Cover your eyes. I’m hitting the light.” She flicked the switch. When she turned, he was sitting in the corner of her room on the uncomfortable floor. He squinted in the light and blinked a few times but recovered quickly enough. He looked almost irresistible, his hair messy and just a little rumpled. The strands of gray looked bright white against the almost-black of his hair. She leaned against the door and smiled. “You’re going to get me in trouble with Zara.”
He shook his head and stretched his legs out in front of him, but made no move to get up. “Zara knows I’m here.” At Lillian’s raised eyebrows, he added, “I promised to be good.”
“I didn’t promise.” The words had popped out before Lillian had a chance to really think about them. She felt a flush crawl up her neck and looked at her feet.
He laughed. “Well, I’ll be good for both of us.”
They were both silent a moment, Lillian with her eyes still examining the scuffed toes of her favorite boots and Greg looking at her. After the silence had a moment to thicken, she heard him sigh and move. She looked up just as he hopped to his feet in one smooth athletic movement and brushed off the back of his coveralls.
He walked across the room and stood in front of her, the distance between them the precise one required for decency. “I’ll be up there with you and in the control room, but so will other people, so…”
She knew what he meant to say. Once she started the process of getting ready for the run, she wouldn’t be alone and everything she did would be observed. And not just the random sort of being seen everyone has to deal with, but the intent observation of people whose job it was to ensure she got out and back in without any accidents.
“So you thought you’d come tell me good luck in private?”
He smiled again and Lillian thought this would be the perfect time for him to kiss her. He lifted her hand and kissed the knuckles instead. She gave him a wry grin. His face told her that he knew exactly what she was thinking and wasn’t rising to the bait. The smile faded and his expression turned serious.
“It may not have been me who made the decision for us to keep a little apart, but it was a decision I should have made.”
Lillian opened her mouth to protest but he held up a hand to stop her. “No, just listen. I should have and I didn’t. Someone else was smart enough to do it for me and that is good for both of us.”
He paused and looked at her, his expression soft and full of things he either couldn’t or wouldn’t say. Lillian reached for his hand and folded it into both of hers. It was warm and dry and she wanted to press it to her cheek and let it chase away the chill.
“Lil, I’m not sure that this—and by this I mean me—is the right thing for you. I’m almost exactly twice your age and I’m not sure you’re seeing things clearly. Once the run is over and things have settled down, then we’ll see how you feel without the excitement making everything so much more intense.”
She let his hand go and leaned her head back on the cool wall. His expressions were so hard to read. There was always more in it and it was never just simple happiness or sadness or anger. It was always some mix of them all, with one coming to the fore and then fading back even as she watched.
“Is this because of Lizbet?” she asked.
He shook his head sadly but then shrugged. “No and yes. And this isn’t the time to really talk about it. I’m sorry I brought it up.” He seemed to make an effort to shake it off and smiled, which worked for Lillian. “I’m here to tell you good luck and that I’ll be there for you. In here.” He put his hand on his chest.
She gave in. “Okay. I’ll take that for now.” Before he had a chance to do anything, she leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. It was quick and almost business-like, more like the pecks her grandparents exchanged than a true kiss, but she was determined and she got her way. He pulled back, a look of surprise on his face and she grinned. “And I’ll take that, too.”
With the look on his face clearly telling her she had the win, she said goodnight.
Twenty-three
Lillian wanted a scrub. Not just a wash, but a scrub with a rough cloth under hot water so that she would come out of the shower with bright red skin. Unfortunately, she wasn’t allowed one and had to shower without even a washcloth. Just soap and water was permitted to her. Zara stood outside the shower stall and listened while she complained.
“I’m going to start sweating the minute they put that skin suit on. I want to be clean or I’ll be distracted when I run.” She peered over the top of the shower door at Zara and asked, “You don’t want me distracted out there, do you?”
Zara just shook her head in a weary fashion and reached up to push Lillian’s head back into the shower. “You’ll exfoliate your skin and, believe it or not, it will make the skin suit irritate you once you get hot. So, I’m going to stand here, between you and a scrubber, until you get out and get in gear.”
The water stopped and the towel draped over the shower door whipped away. “Fine. I’ll just be greasy and stinky, then.”
“And that would be different how?”
**
***
Lillian paced in the little room on Level 1 while she waited for news. The undershirt and undershorts she wore weren’t enough to keep her warm and Zara had taken her coveralls after the first time she’d gotten dressed and wandered out of the room. Now she had a robe and slippers. She was almost to the point of walking out like that—a horrifying thought—when Zara slipped back into the room.
“They’re pretty sure the water isn’t coming back for now but the ground is a mess. They see puddles all over the place. The air is so clear right now it’s hard to imagine waiting.”
Lillian had stopped her pacing and tried to picture what Zara was describing. During training they had slogged through damp and soggy patches of shredded paper bound for recycling to get an idea of wet ground and it had been much harder to get through. Slippery, too. She scratched at her head and asked, “How long does it take to dry?”
“It can take days, but the IT guys that work on this stuff say that it’s been so long since water fell last that it should be better by tomorrow. It will absorb quickly, they say. It’s just that the air is so perfect.” Zara’s face took on a dreamy look, like it was she who was being forced to wait until the ground dried for her run.
“Is it really that clear?” Lillian asked.
Zara grinned and spread her arms. “It’s amazing. You can see the ridge as clear as you like and the sky isn’t nearly as dusty looking. It’s not even brown.” She screwed up her face as she fished for a word. “It’s more of a tan.”
“So, I have to wait?” Lillian didn’t wait for an answer. She just plopped down into a chair and let herself slump forward. “I have to go through this again tomorrow?”
The trainer must know what she was talking about. She’d done almost nothing to actually prepare for going outside in terms of suiting up, but the mental part was the hardest part of the day and she’d been churning this over for a couple of hours. Zara came up behind the chair and started to undo the tight coils of braid around her head. “It isn’t official but I’m pretty sure that’s what they will decide. Slogging through muck won’t make for a fast run. They’ll see that.” She stepped to the side of her chair and tilted her chin up with a finger. “You won’t be able to beat my mark in muck. It will still be there tomorrow.”
*****
Zara was right. As the darkness outside began to lift and the viewscreen brightened, the early light came through sharp and clear. Lillian, up early for once without a wake-up call, watched the breaking of day for the first time in her life. Low wisps of dust travelled across the ground in starts and stops and the sky above was indeed a color that could only be described as tan. The difference was that it was clear. Points of brilliant light sparkled in a few depressions around the view where water had collected and the shadow of the sensor pole lay stark against the ground.
Nearby, IT and race personnel murmured opinions and compared notes. They would make the decision as to the appropriateness of the day for a run, not the council or Mayor or any other person normally in authority. This was a matter of science. All she could do was stare at the backs of their heads and will them to decide that this was the day. It felt like the right day to her, all the way into her bones. And, surprisingly, she didn’t feel afraid, only anxious to start.
More people had begun to file up from race support and the signs that signaled the closing of the cafeteria were being hung at the landing. A young man burdened with an armful of such signs and the lines he would use to hang them from the stairs and landings scooted under the sign and rapidly made his way down the stairs. Behind him, carts laden with cooked food were lining up at the lift to be transported to a make-shift serving line on the level below. Lillian smiled.
The Mayor, Sheriff and a whole host of others came up in ones and twos while she watched the day brighten further. Zara and Greg had joined her at the table but no one spoke. They all just watched the day begin outside. Finally, a change in the tenor of the noise by the wall that divided the public cafeteria from the runner area drew her attention and Zara laid a gentle hand on her arm for support.
“We’re a go for today, Lillian,” the Mayor said, his face serious and searching. “Are you ready?”
It wasn’t a rhetorical question. She could say no and they would go get Leo, still asleep in his bed and ask him the same. She didn’t answer immediately, instead shifting her gaze back to the viewscreen. Was she ready? The fluttering in her stomach increased and she felt the heat of adrenaline in her system. It was almost dizzying. She looked the Mayor in the eyes and answered, “I’m ready.”
Twenty-four
It was almost time. Everything but the helmet was on. The skin suit already felt a little warm on her skin and the fused double inner suit, while an improvement over the three individual layers, still trapped all the moisture. She’d run in the suit many times during training, or rather, one like it, so it wasn’t a new feeling. She looked down at the suit tech as he taped the seals between her gloves and the outer layer of her suit.
When he finished, he patted the area where the new tape was secured and looked up at her, “All done.” Then he turned toward the cluster of people near the outer door and said it louder.
Lillian nodded and smiled, trying to look as calm as she could. The Mayor opened the door and escorted her mother and Clara inside. Her face was strained behind the smile, but she looked like she was holding it together. Clara grinned when she caught sight of Lillian and ran toward her. She stopped short of leaping on her, aware of the apparatus covering her sister.
Lillian grinned and kissed her forehead. “Hey, pumpkin. How’s it going?”
Clara pulled back, rubbing absently at a spot on her cheek that got poked by the mouthpiece dangling from her neck. Ruby finished her walk and took Clara’s place. She squeezed Lillian tightly, but carefully, around her neck and then stepped back to look her up and down.
“I feel like I’ve been here before, baby girl,” she said, her mouth twitching like she was holding back her tears. She held up a hand at Lillian’s look and said, “No. I know. This isn’t the same.”
“I love you, Mom.” It was all she could say. She hated that her mother had to feel this way.
Tears did come then but she held it together, Ruby’s smile belied by the drops that trailed down her cheeks. “And I love you. Come back to us. Be careful.”
“I will. You’re stuck with me forever, you know,” Lillian replied.
Over her mother’s shoulder, Lillian caught the Race Director’s eye and he motioned toward the airlock. She kissed them both once more on their cheeks. Her mother knew it was time. She smoothed Lillian’s forehead and ran her hand over the tight cap that covered her hair. She kissed her nose, which tickled and brought out a giggle. Then she simply turned and walked away. She didn’t look back, though Clara did. Lillian returned her sister’s wave and then they were gone, the door closing behind them.
The Race Director watched the door shut and then clapped his hands and said, “Alright, people. We’re on the clock. Let’s get moving!”
The two camera balls were brought out and she clicked the buttons that would turn them on under the suit on her leg. Both went green and the tech slipped them into the tight slots on the lower part of her back frame. She tested her communications key again, and heard for herself the buzzes at the control console, nodding at the thumbs up her control tech gave her. Her marker balls slid into the rack on the other side of her back and she reached back to feel the bottom one, ready to be removed and tossed when she needed to.
Last of all, they brought her the real tool for today’s run. It almost looked like a cart done in miniature. Four wheels made of metal braced a metal canister like the one on her back containing her air. In front of that was a larger glass ball containing a computer camera on a gimbal, a battery and the transmitter. She was to go as far as she could, basing her turns on their information, and then open the canister and let the escaping air propel the cart and it’s camera in the direction they to
ld her. If they were lucky and she was fast, then they might see far beyond where they had seen before. Test runs with an almost empty canister over all kinds of terrain—farm plots, concrete, bumpy stretches of piled mats—had shown that the bigger wheels and wide frame should be enough to keep the device moving.
She hefted the cart and tested the balance in her arm. It was not significantly heavier with a full bottle and it fit in the crook of her arm like a baby, though a less delicate one. The tech took it, wrapped it in a sheet of suit fabric and taped it shut with heat tape. The knife she would use to open it was already tucked into a front pocket of her suit and she patted it yet again to be sure it was there.
The creak of the airlock door opening gave her a start. The suit tech who would go in with her and fit her helmet touched her arm. At her look, he jerked his head in that direction with a questioning smile that asked if she was ready to go. She answered by strolling over to it and stepping over the threshold. It was best not to think too much about it. In truth, she was already half-way out there. She might be in an airlock but she could already feel the ground, the moving air and the light. She could almost see a landscape with no stairs and no walls.
The suit tech clipped in her power cord while she held the helmet up a little above her head, then he reached for her air hose and clipped that in the front. When he clasped the helmet, he said, “Okay, you can let go. I’ve got it.” It was only then she felt a little fear. There was one more thing she wanted to see before the helmet came down so she craned her neck as far as she could, encumbered as she was. And there he was. He had stepped away from the console where he would coach her run and into her line of sight. He smiled and gave her a thumbs up, a neutral encouragement nothing could be read into, but his eyes told the real story. She smiled back and relaxed back into position while the helmet came down.