King's County

by James Carrick

  Ed was in slow motion. Every so often he'd croak something out. It took him a minute or two just to make a simple statement. He couldn't possibly have understood my response.

  92 hours passed quickly. The harshly sunlit, ashy gray Moon swelled in a corner of the window. I fed Ed his wake-up pill. Details on the surface crystallized. Craters, vague impressions at first, became discernible with edges and lips. Smaller and smaller craters, craters within craters, came into focus and ran off the sides as we closed in. We saw the base, a dark gray rounded rectangle with two large orange stripes running the length of the roof.

  *

  AK/WA 2092

  Within a few hours of Colonel Jackson dismissing me, they had me processed and put on a plane. I had a temporary access card and a duffel bag. My uniforms and badges I surrendered. I kept the infantry boots to wear with my civilian clothes. No one asked for them and I didn't want to give them up. They're great boots that I still wear to this day.

  The transport took off from the Anderson base and climbed to 20,000 meters, making a long, gradual arc down to SEA-TAC airport. I was alone except for one other passenger, an older looking Sgt. Major who sat across from me and refused to speak.

  At the ramp, a woman was there to meet me. She knew me by sight.

  "Mr Waller?" It was Sunday and she was wearing jeans. She looked into the center of my face when she spoke.

  "I’m your placement adviser, Alice." She held out a hand then quickly withdrew it, seeing mine occupied with the duffel bag.

  "OK. So what do we do now, Alice?"

  She had a meeting room in the airport reserved for us. I followed her for the short walk rolling my bag beside me on a powered cart. The glass doors opened at our approach. Her assistant was waiting there with coffee.

  Alice consulted her tablet for a moment while the assistant checked me out from across the table. Alice looked to be a year or two older than the assistant. They were both sort of blandly cute, plain faced but healthy, with delicate wrists and ankles which I liked.

  "Is there something I can do with...computers, maybe?" I asked her. She looked up and set the tablet down. Her assistant laughed a little.

  "You've been gone a long time." Alice touched something on the tablet screen and seemed satisfied.

  "OK. You know how the access card works? You have a job, an occupation, and that gives you access privileges at certain places in certain cities.

  "Right now, since you’re out of the military and unplaced you have what's called a temporary card. Just the basics, and you'll have to stay here in Seattle. We really don't recommend leaving the airport until you are properly placed."

  "I have to stay here? How long will it take to get placed?"

  "Oh, not long," she said.

  "How long? What about the space privileges, whatever you call it? I was part of the Artemis project."

  "Yes, I know that. You’ll be placed very soon. You’ll have that expanded access in your new card."

  "You don't know how long it will take? Lady, Alice, I don’t want to live at the airport."

  "Oh! No, you’ll be placed very soon. Very soon." She was really struggling to give me an answer. The attitude dropped. "Maybe...ten minutes?"

  It was more like thirty minutes. Alice asked me some questions, mostly boring details about my background. I knew this was all for show. My answers obviously couldn't have meant anything - they already knew everything. But the pretense still seemed important to her. I wanted to ask Alice to drop it for a minute and speak to me normally. What would happen if she did?

  I was placed in Seattle’s downtown artist colony. I had no experience or formal education in anything artistic and told her so. She said it didn't matter, that I’d learn what I needed to know at the colony. She said individualist types often do best in artistic environments and that my extra-Earth experience might give me a unique perspective to contribute. This was all read to me from her tablet.

  I don't think she really believed it. I was pretty sure that she knew almost nothing about the place I was being sent. We finished with her presenting me my plain silver and green card, followed by her reciting a long piece of legal boilerplate of which I verbally affirmed my acceptance.

  Without waiting to be told, I got up to leave. Alice jumped up to stop me at the door. She asked about Artemis. Nothing official, I think she just liked me.

  *

  Moon 2066

  Our vehicle floated into a long gray cave. In the rear monitor I saw a massive door close behind us. Behind a glass wall, the Moon settlers patiently watched us, waiting for the air pressure to normalize outside.

  He had a wide smile showing all his teeth. Ed and I had to remain embedded in our seats. We could only communicate through the window and external instruments.

  "Welcome!" He said. Another man’s face popped into view. He gave us a thumbs up: they could now hear us. Ed spoke first,

  "How’s it going? Major Hart. This is Captain Waller. Requesting permission to come ashore."

  "Ahoy, matey!" One of the Moon guys called out and made an exaggerated salute. The gathered settlers laughed along with him. The smiling man held back, waiting to see our reaction.

  "Gordon." He said finally, "How are you two feeling?"

  "We’re fine, Gordon. Call me Ed. How are we looking for the relaunch?"

  "Working on it right now. We’ll know something pretty soon. Trust me, you don't want us to rush this."

  He had a pleasant, easy way about him. His coveralls were worn and looked comfortable.

  A couple of good looking women came up behind Gordon and peered into the module to wave at us. They wore their brunette hair naturally long, loosely tied in the back. They had a different look than I was used to seeing, healthy, or something.

  "Hey, what's y’all’s names?" Ed’s Texan accent made a sudden appearance.

  They laughed and glanced at each other.

  "I’m Halin and she’s Junna." said the taller, slightly older woman. Her voice was clear and confident.

  “I'm Ed, Ed the Head. This lump here is Captain Wally Wallerton the Fourth. I hear he's an aristocrat.”

  “I see. Very nice to meet you guys.” She very briefly trailed her hand on the window, making eye contact with me as she walked out of view. Her friend followed, leaving us with a sheepish smile. I was in love with them both.

  Our welcoming crowd thinned out quickly as they went back to their duties. Ed and I could just sit and wait. Through the external microphone, we heard various mechanical noises coming from within the complex.

  &

  "Hey, Major Hart? Captain Waller?"

  We had fallen asleep. Gordon was back.

  "It's gonna be little bit." He held up his wristwatch for us to see.

  "That's GMT. We keep a diurnal schedule here, by the way. We’re looking at around 22:45 for the relaunch, about seven and a half hours. Sorry about that. You know we have to have the right window."

  "We’re in no hurry, man. That's only a little behind schedule anyway." I said.

  I was the flight engineer and it was my responsibility to know the schedule but the words felt wrong when I said them. I realized then that anyone could have sat in this seat. I wasn't like Gordon. I was called Captain by the others and I had a uniform with my name and rank on it but it meant nothing here. My selection as an elite pilot meant nothing. Whatever I knew, whatever I thought - my experiences, abilities, intentions and feelings, good or bad, meant nothing outside of myself. Ed and I were just passengers and would not, could not, have any effect on whatever was going to happen on this flight.

  *

  WA 2092

  My room at the colony was on K, more or less the 11th floor, and overlooked the public square. It was fine. It was enough, clean and nicer than any of the military dorms.

  The square outside was paved in alternating basalt and granite tiles that changed their contrast when wet by the frequent rainfall. On the right side was a cafe with a mass of dark green and yellow
tables and chairs. A squat man in plain slacks and an apron moved slowly among them, shepherding around a small dog on an electronic leash.

  Standing at the window, looking down at the square, I resolved to try to make the most out of the situation.

  On a small side table was a package of fruit wrapped in cellophane with a bottle of some local wine. Seeing the wine and its label with a map of Puget Sound gave me an idea. I messaged Alice, thinking she might want to meet up somewhere.

  After half an hour, she hadn’t responded so I popped open the wine and messaged her assistant. She claimed to not remember me but said she’d maybe want to go out later in the week anyway. Obviously she was lying but I played along.

  The wine went fast so I went out for a look around. It was early afternoon when I walked out of the building. The heavy clouds were thinning. By the time I crossed the empty square, the sun was exposed in a patch of blue sky and was burning off the film of mist that covered everything.

  I walked a block east and still saw no people or cars at all, just rows of closed up old buildings. Coming to an intersection, it looked like more of the same down every street. I turned around and went west toward the water.

  Approaching the highway, the view of the waterfront was blocked by a thick concrete wall holding in a densely planted mass of tall green grass. Nearby were some stairs that led to a foot bridge going across it.

  The bridge was a clear glass tube with slight ridges along the flattened bottom. Looking down from it, I saw there were only two highway lanes still in use. A red and white shuttle zipped under my feet almost noiselessly.

  Seeing the calm bay made me want a cigarette. I sat down on a damp bench and waited. People were here off in the distance in both directions. A man leisurely pedaling a bicycle caught my attention. He was looking at me.

  Out of instinct, I turned around to check my surroundings and got a surprise. The old downtown office towers that I saw earlier were not abandoned. The windows were removed out of the top floors and all sorts of plants and trees filled the interiors. Bright white indoor lighting leaked out outshining the weak northern sun. I wondered how I had missed seeing them.

  The man on the bicycle stopped in front of me. He smiled at me with his big, fleshy face. He had a pointed nose, long light brown curly hair and was clean shaven. His loose fitting dark jeans and light brown woolen blazer looked like they had been worn many days in a row.

  "Hey, bud. What's new?" I said.

  He looked anxious for a moment then turned to the box on top of the back wheel of his bike. He withdrew a piece of orange fruit on a stick, handed it to me with a flourish and a bow then rode off without ever saying a word. It was a mango, salted a little, not bad.

  I wanted to ask him about the old buildings. I finished the mango and stuck the stick into the ground. A couple of women came noisily through the bridge, both of them talking at the same time. They dropped a bunch of dusty, old-fashioned video camera equipment near my bench.

  The women were dressed in coarse long black dresses. They seemed to be flabby underneath their clothes which was unusual nowadays. Nobody was overweight anymore. The women both had long black hair pulled back and pallid skin.

  There was something else about them. They seemed old but not in any immediately obvious way. They weren't wrinkled or slow moving. Their voices were young but toneless and flat. Everything they said came out sounding irritated.

  The women's behavior was more telling. They fussed around with that heavy antique camera stuff while continuously arguing with each other. There was a weariness about them that made me think they'd done this, whatever it was, many times before.

  I asked them if they needed any help and was unsurprisingly ignored. I ignored them back, though they were only a few feet away from me and were making seemingly as much noise as possible.

  The crowd was converging toward me, out to enjoy the afternoon sun, good looking people for the most part. I watched them instead of the witches.

  I felt myself getting drowsy; it was time to move on, to walk around some more. The witches had gone as quickly as they'd arrived. They left their equipment behind in a heap by my bench.

  Most of the people about were in groups of three or four. All were young looking and chatting with each other. Lively seabirds lined the walkway listening to them. I saw no one alone since the mango guy on the bike and I spotted him at the end of a pier in conversation with a girl. She had a bike of her own. I wondered if anyone here was an artist at the colony.

  A kiosk served me a cold can of beer that was delicious and erased the fuzziness in my head from the wine wearing off. I'd seen enough water and birds. I needed to get back.

  *

  Moon 2066

  In the long silence in the empty hanger after Gordon had left, I realized Ed already knew what I'd just realized. It explained his nonchalant attitude during training. Maybe it explained why I looked up to him so much.

  Now that I accepted the reality of our situation, it seemed so obvious. Now that I admitted it, the feeling was more good than bad. Sometimes the truth does set you free.

  I had been a fool, but the regret or embarrassment I felt was muted and unimportant. I wanted to tell Ed about it. I even began to get excited about the mission again.

  An unfamiliar sound in my ear woke me. I didn't realize I had drifted off. It was Junna, the younger brunette from earlier, gently tapping on the external microphone. She saw us open our eyes and smiled.

  "Hey, hope you’re up for a party," she said.

  "Hey, yourself. Sorry to miss the party but we’re fixin' to take off from here pretty soon." Ed’s southern accent was back.

  "Of course." Her voice chirped. "We have this weekly thing we do but we’re moving it up a day in honor of your visit. And we’re gonna hold it here in the hanger. Sort of a well wishing thing."

  "That sounds great...very thoughtful. You're awfully sweet, you know that?" Ed said. Junna bounced away, smiling at his compliment.

  The girls here were different than any I remember from home. They were open and enthusiastic; happy is probably the right word.

  Truthfully, I hadn't had any kind of girlfriend at all since college. Nobody around me did either, nothing serious. Marriages of people my age were only rumors. The subject of marriage wasn’t something you would feel comfortable bringing up, even among friends. Sitting in the hanger, I thought maybe I should want a wife, whatever that might mean, and I realized that I’d be in my fifties before I’d ever have the chance.

  I read on the HUD until Gordon and his bunch brought the party to us. Everyone was very cheerful and decent, dancing and drinking their homemade booze. We watched and listened, sealed off from the fun. Ed was unusually quiet.

  Only an hour or so later, the party was over. Gordon and an assistant loaded our module onto a track of 12m diameter rings that created a directional magnetic field to accelerate us out into the solar system where the slow but steady radiant ion drive would take over.

  There was just empty space in front of us. I missed the girl's voices. Gentle pressure pushed me into the back of the seat; we were away. I watched the Moon grow gradually smaller in the rear display until I got mad at myself for doing it. Ed was asleep. I pulled up Moby Dick but couldn't get into it.

  *

  WA 2092

  There was no reason to go back to my room so I sat at a table at the empty cafe. I got a drink at the self-serve machine and watched the place gradually fill up. The machine had cigarettes, too. I hadn't had one since Wyoming.

  At the edge of the square near the entrance to the cafe was a line of block-like pedestals. Atop them were sculptures, bad ones, and all essentially the same though attributed to different names. They looked like melted blobs to me.

  A girl saw me noticing the blobs and came over. She sat down at the table like we were friends.

  "Can I have a cigarette?" She said already reaching for one. Her hair was brown but strands of it were colored red, green, and purple. She wo
re a big dress that looked old and it didn't suit her but I can't imagine what kind of dress would have.

  We had a few drinks. She smoked my cigarettes throughout.

  "Wow. My brother’s friend's brother was in the military. I just think it's really messed up." She picked her purse off of the ground and slapped it onto the table. It was a mess of glass beads and metal trinkets. She dug through it, suddenly stopping and holding out her hand,

  "I'm Elena, by the way."

  I didn't respond to her introduction. I ignored her hand to instead pick up my drink and take a pull from it. She wasn't offended. Her attitude softened. For the first time, she looked at me like she wasn't a little bored.