Contribute (Holo, #2)

by Kristy Acevedo

  Benji keeps his hands raised. “The meritocracy will target our groups once the contribution period ends. We should support each other as dissenters.”

  “The meritocracy are peaceful,” the woman says. “We are happy and peaceful here. Your group will only bring violence and distrust.”

  You’re not totally wrong there, lady.

  Benji stops inching forward. “You have knowledge of this area that we desperately need if we are going to return to Earth.”

  “Earth?” the woman asks. “What about Earth?”

  “Earth was not destroyed. We can explain—”

  “Why should we trust you?” the woman asks.

  It’s the same question I asked the first hologram on Earth. Its answer was that we had no other options.

  Benji goes silent. “I don’t know why you should trust us. But she knows us well.” He points to Rita. “And Doctor A. has been helping you. He’s with us.”

  A silence ensues. Rita’s front and center, and I know she hates me and might use it against us. I beg Rita to step in and help with my telepathic-best-friend-superpowers.

  Rita clears her throat and says, “I’ll vouch for them.”

  “So will I,” Doctor A. says.

  The Geotroupes immediately argue among themselves.

  The old man says to the older blond woman, “Marie, we don’t need no outsiders here. Eugene, am I right?”

  The cook, with matted blond hair and holding an iron skillet, says, “I heard they’re high tech over there. Their group’s getting larger by the minute. I can’t feed those kind of numbers.”

  “Our number one rule is no tech,” a younger voice says.

  Benji’s face drops, and he turns back to us.

  “I don’t know what else to say,” he says. “Maybe we should head back and think of a different strategy.”

  I look around. As more people voice their concerns, no one is paying attention to us anymore. Rita and I make eye contact over the fighting. Her eyes look vacant, void of her usual peppiness. I just spread problems wherever I go.

  A familiar voice rings through the Geotroupe camp. “I can vouch for them.” Penelope, my grandmother, has stepped out from a building. “They’re family.”

  The rest of the Geotroupes wait and watch the interaction between us. The old man balks and retreats into a building.

  “Ignore him,” Marie says. “Any family of Penelope is a friend here. If you’ll respect our rules here, no tech, I’ll agree to initial talks.”

  “Agreed.” Benji says.

  I run forward and embrace my grandmother. It feels so good to hold a piece of Earth and family in my arms again.

  “Marie, this is my favorite granddaughter, Alexandra. Well, so she’s my only granddaughter, but still.” I shake hands with the woman who’s been the most vocal.

  “This is her significant other, Dominick, right?” Penelope continues.

  Dominick smiles. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And my favorite grandson, Benjamin. Where’s your cute new hubby?”

  Benji shirks her question and shakes Marie’s hand.

  “This is Marie, one of the founders of the Geotroupes in this area, and a dear friend who I worked with years ago at a non-profit.”

  “Welcome to our space,” Marie says. “Please join us for dinner. It should be ready soon. That will give us more time to speak.”

  “Rumor has it you actually cook here,” Benji says.

  She shakes her head. “Yes. We gather and cook food the old fashioned way. Fire and wood, and thankfully a few chefs brought some cast iron pans and supplies with them when they crossed over. Even though this is a tech free zone, I admit we sometimes use HDP leftovers to supplement missing ingredients.”

  “We’d love to stay.”

  For once, my brother and I are on the same page. I cannot wait for actual cooked food.

  Marie gives us the full tour of the Geotroupe camp. “We gather around the firepit for meals. Everyone must clean their supplies afterward.”

  “How do you have water?” Benji asks.

  “It wasn’t easy. We built an old-fashioned filtration system using rocks, evaporation, condensation, you know, nature’s way of filtering.” She points to their water supply. Takes time but gives us drinkable water. Not enough to bathe with, though. There’s something else I want to show you. I’d like your take on it.”

  She leads us to the back area of the camp, hardly lit, and a small part of me worries that we’re about to be ambushed. We step over fallen skeleton tree limbs and overgrowth along the path. The waste land region extends beyond my initial impression. It’s more than a few communities of buildings. It’s an old city.

  “Over here,” Marie says. “Have you seen anything like this?”

  It looks like an old train station, open area and tunnels overrun with yellow-green moss. A series of strange, stone doorways line the area like a future Stonehenge.

  “Cool,” Dominick says.

  I touch the cold surface of the smooth stone. The moss crumbles beneath my hand, and a multi-legged insect the size of a praying mantis scatters into the brush.

  “It has a similar layout to the vertex guidepost stations,” Benji says. “The Umbra has used newer ones to travel around Solbiluna-8. This one looks ancient, though.” He kicks some moss of the ground with his boot. “Yep, control panel. Old school, not holographic.”

  “Good to know. If it’s a vertex site, we don’t want any part of it.”

  Same. This place gives me the creeps.

  “Would you mind if I sent a team out here to research this area?”

  “Feel free. It’s not an official part of our camp since we weren’t sure what it was.”

  We finish the tour and head back for dinner.

  Penelope gives Dominick and I supplies, real bowls, spoons, cups, and I want to cry. The firepit burns an incredible bright turquoise instead of the orange flame of Earth. They scoop a rich stew into my bowl. It tastes like home.

  “Why is the flame blue?” Dominick asks the cook. “Is there copper or gas in it?”

  The cook replies, “Not gas. We burn wood. Copper could be in the soil. I just know it burns hotter than usual. Gotta keep the pan moving, pulling it on and off.”

  We sit on a hewed log to eat.

  “Where are your parents?” Penelope asks.

  I never realized that leaving through the vertex would carry so much burden with it. Like a sword of truth that I must carry and hurt people with, twisting to make sure the depth of the wound is felt.

  “They, er, didn’t make it.”

  The look on her face could silence a packed auditorium. I’m not sure where to start. “I . . .”

  She holds up her hand. “Don’t. Don’t make excuses for that stubborn bastard.”

  “It wasn’t like that.”

  “I don’t want to hear it. I’m just glad you were brave enough to break away from him. Braver than your mother.”

  I open my mouth to defend my mother’s decisions, but Penelope’s wrinkles shift from bitterness to a deep sadness. She thinks her daughter is dead. Lost in a comet. Here we go again. Alexandra Lucas, breaker of souls, killer of last hope.

  She steps aside, and I let her grieve. What choice do I have? These people don’t know the truth yet. These things take time to learn. Time to process. They need to trust us before we shatter their world. Much like the holograms did.

  Dominick and I eat in silence until Rita and Hannah walk over to join us.

  “Hi,” I say. My voice barely registers.

  Rita waves, dismissively. “Hannah, Alex.”

  “Ooh, Alex. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Hannah says.

  “Hannah and I’ve become good friends. We have a lot in common.”

  If she told me that to hurt my feelings, it worked. I shove more stew into my mouth.

  “Looks like you two are back in business,” Rita says.

  Dominick coughs on his food and stands. “I’m going to check out the f
iltration system.”

  “Me, too,” Hannah says.

  I scoop more stew into my mouth to keep from begging them to stay.

  “He talked about you all the time,” Rita says. “I was worried he was getting depressed.”

  “Rita, I’m really sorry. You know me—”

  Rita rakes her fingers through her long dark hair. “Exactly. And you know me. I cannot believe you actually thought I would do that to you. After all we’ve been through. No, I’m pissed. I thought we were more evolved than that. You reduced our friendship to fighting over a boy—Dominick no less.”

  “I know,” I say, my voice rising an octave. “I’m so sorry. I just saw you two happy together without me—”

  Rita cuts me off. “And you jumped to a conclusion as always, letting your imagination run wild, thinking the worst. Whatever. I’ll get over it. Life’s too short. You know?”

  “You’re lying. I can tell you’re still upset. I’m really sorry. I think I got so mad and desperate because I’ve missed you both so much.”

  She sits next to me and begins to cry. I know my best friend. This is different.

  I rub her back. “Are you okay?”

  She shakes her head no. “I know all I did was complain about my parents, but I thought they would give in in the end, come and join us here. Choose me over the church. But they didn’t, and I miss them. I miss their stupid rules. I even kind of miss the church.” She wipes her tears on her basic uniform sleeve. “I didn’t even say goodbye. Then I thought they burned with the comet when the time ran out. And if I hadn’t left, that I’d be dead with them. Then you said the holograms lied, and I just don’t know how to feel.”

  There are no words to comfort her. I hug her and absorb her pain, the pain of a child who loves her family despite their issues, and it mingles with my own. The hard truth is this: Even though our parents survived the comet hoax, they still might be dead if Earth decided to rebel or collapse under the weight of the lie. The longer we stay here, the more likely they perish.

  “I’m here for you,” is all I manage to say.

  “Thank God, you bitch,” she laughs through tears.

  We laugh together, and the laughter cements our friendship back where it should be. It’s easy to forget what it’s like to have a true friend.

  “How did you end up with the Geotroupes? I thought organized religious groups were not your thing.”

  “So did I. They’re not really a religious group. They believe in reconnecting to ourselves and others and learning to respect, nurturing, and interact with the natural environment. My parents would have believed in all of their values, except they would’ve added a bunch of extra rules and Bible passages. They’ve been like a family to me. Marie and Eugene run it.” She points across the area at Marie, Penelope, and Benji laughing near the cook, a short man wearing cut-off iridescent uniform shorts, serving food at the firepit. Even from a distance, I can tell how much they both love life by the light in their eyes.

  A flash of sadness spreads across Rita’s face again, but it’s interrupted by an announcement that the food is ready.

  “I thought we just ate.”

  “Dessert.” She grins. “We always have dessert.”

  “No wonder you joined. Brainwashed by sweets.”

  “Is there any other way?”

  Back around the campfire, people pull a chunk from a huge loaf coated with a sticky substance and pass the rest around. It tastes like a warm, glazed donut.

  “This is delicious. How did they make it?”

  “Eugene works miracles.”

  As I chew, we find a seat on another a cut down log with legs attached to raise its height. Dominick joins us.

  “It’s peaceful here,” I admit.

  “We’re all about getting away from technology and connecting with nature,” Rita says. “It’s comforting, actually. You’d be surprised how much stress being hooked on gadgets has added to our lives. No wonder people were always so miserable.”

  Hannah comes over with her hands full of dough. “I convinced Marie to give us extra.” She breaks off hunks for each of us.

  “Awesome,” Dominick says, and he takes a huge bite.

  Through the trees in the far distant, a flash of colors bend and shift in the night sky. Like an intense Aurora Borealis.

  “Hey, what’s that?” I ask, pointing.

  “It happens every night. It’s the distorted light traveling from all the Skylucents playing in different LU communities.”

  We sit and enjoy the night. It would almost feel like the three of us back home at our annual summer beach bonfire if it weren’t for the moving images in the sky, the inactive bandwidths on our wrists, the turquoise flame in the firepit. A terrible feeling builds in my gut that it might be the last peace we see in our lifetimes.

  CHAPTER 18

  DAY 29: 94 HOURS TO DECIDE

  THE MERITOCRACY COUNCIL MEETINGS ARE HELD AT TRICENTERS NEAR EVERY MAJOR LU PROVINCE EACH MIDDAY. WE, OF COURSE, CANNOT BE EVERYWHERE AT ONCE, SO WE SEND HOLOGRAPHIC REPRESENTATIONS OF OUR IMAGES FOR MEETINGS ACROSS SOLBILUNA-8. YOU MAY ATTEND OR VIEW ON THE CVBE. THE NANOHOLOCOM NETWORK WELCOMES FEEDBACK AT ANY TIME.

  I TRY TO sleep alone in my LU and wonder if I should move into Umbra headquarters or join Rita with the Geotroupes. Despite the alliance, over the last few days the Geotroupes and Umbra haven’t seen eye to eye on the need to contribute some of their deaths to make sure the vances don’t target both groups. Some of the Umbra have decided to do it, to throw the numbers off and to have more time to gather intelligence instead of being put to work. The Geotroupes plan to stay out of range, never contribute, and never report to work. Sometimes pacifists are more rebellious than people give them credit for.

  When the contribution countdown clock on my bandwidth hits double digits, the PSF calls to me. I resign myself to the fact that maybe being a loner in the future has its perks. Deciding whether or not to contribute my death to Solbiluna-8 is another mental conundrum that I don’t feel equipped to answer, especially without knowing why the vances brought us here, whether or not we will return to Earth, and whether or not I will be punished for refusing to contribute.

  I write in my journal:

  Worst-case scenario #1: I don’t contribute, and I must work while everyone else lives a life of leisure. That seems unfair, to watch everyone else enjoy life while I’m stuck in slave mode. Not much different from some people’s life on Earth, actually.

  Worst-case scenario #2: We stay here forever, and I become a biohologram slave after I die but get to live a life of leisure. If that’s even the truth. I mean, when did life become about work and stress and buying and looks and less and less about how we feel and think? At least the vances got that right. No need for material items, no shopping ‘til you drop, no money or work necessary.

  Maybe I should just give in. So what if they kidnapped us? Maybe it was for own good. Maybe I’m losing my mind. Maybe I’m finally making sense.

  The peer pressure is palpable. No, no, not like this. Never like this. I want to connect with people in a real way and make a difference. Like Doctor A. said at the Umbra meeting, I want to contribute for real, when I’m alive, to something bigger. I want my life to mean something to someone before I die. This is insanity.

  IN THE MORNING after little sleep, I lay in my new modified hammock and flip through my journal, reading all of the promises the holograms made to us on Earth. So far every detail is accurate other than the most important questions we never thought to ask.

  The door beeps, and Dominick’s face appears on screen. Punctual as usual.

  I open the door and give him a quick peck. He pulls me back for a longer kiss.

  “Rita should be here in a few minutes,” I say, breaking away. “I was thinking we could hang out in the Hub, maybe search the forest area.”

  “I thought we were going to hang in one of the Holospaces. Someone made a replica of Hogwarts.”

  How can I talk him out of that?
“Maybe you and Rita should just go.”

  “What did I miss? Are you jealous again?”

  “No, I swear. I just don’t like the Holospaces.”

  “Why? It’s amazing.”

  “No, it’s another trap. They took away all the freedom and luxuries we had, gave us food, shelter, and medical, and they gave us a fake existence to play in. In exchange, we basically give them all of our creative ideas for free for people to access and receive basic needs in return. There’s a big difference between sharing and exploiting. Something about it doesn’t seem right. Fake things feel dead to me. I want real life back on Earth. I want to pet an actual cat, climb an actual mountain, swim in the actual salty rich ocean. I miss the quiet realness of it all.”

  He grins. “Great speech.”

  I put on my boots. “Thanks. I bet there’s something else we can do for fun.” I double tap my bandwidth.

  SIDEKICK appears, and I ask her for recreation ideas. Everything she lists connects to the Holospaces or the Skylucent later tonight unless we travel.

  “Well, she was no help,” I mutter after closing her program. “I don’t want to use a magpod, either.”

  “I love how your hologuide is dressed like a superhero,” Dominick says from the hammock.

  “What’s wrong with that? Let me guess, your hologuide looks like Albert Einstein.”

  He avoids eye contact. “No, but that’s a good idea.”

  “You’re hiding something.”

  “No I’m not.”

  “Yes you are. Show me your hologuide then. You’re making fun of my choices; let’s see this awesome hologuide of yours.”

  “No, I . . . Hologuide files are personal.”

  I ambush him in the hammock and try to double tap his bandwidth. He evades my swipes at his wrist even when I tickle him.

  “Show me, and I’ll go to the Holospaces.”

  “Fine,” he concedes, holding his hand up in defeat. He double taps his bandwidth, and his hologuide materializes.

  It’s an exact replica of me, down to the freckle on my chin. Its long curls look salon-perfect, though, and it has on a super tight Star Trek uniform. I might as well be Seven of Nine.