"I mean, I can't really imagine, you know, what that's like, Alaska or whatever. I feel like I’ve always, like I've always...meant to be an artist." She paused to light another cigarette. "And, I'm so happy to be here, really, you know? But at the same time? I actually feel it’s kind of confining. Like maybe I could do more. I don't know. I feel pretty good, actually, you know, about what I'm doing now."
"How old are you?" I said.
It was her turn to ignore me but she was obviously uncomfortable with that question and there was a slight tremor in her hand when she brought the cigarette to her lips. The moment passed in silence - and then my faux pas was forgiven, maybe forgotten. She went on talking, though a touch softer than before,
"My last piece really just...it went against everything I have been taught. It was so liberating. That's just how I am, really. I see things, like, everything real is actually abstract and I can't just ignore that. I don't feel that that’s how I am. You know?"
"I don't. I mean, yeah, I guess." That's all I could think to say. She was obnoxious but I didn't want to keep insulting the only person I knew here.
"So..." Her eyes got wide then narrowed as she leaned across the table with her hand out grabbing mine. "What are you working on? Sculpture?"
"I have no idea. I..." She frowned but then spotted something over my shoulder.
"C’mon. I'll introduce you." She hopped up, still gripping my hand and pulled me over to another table.
They looked the same age as Elena and wore the same sort of sloppy, eclectic clothing. One of the guys gave her a perfunctory hello.
"Hey, everyone!" Elena said while dragging up a chair for herself. "Meet my new friend."
"Sit down why don't you?" A guy said without bothering to look at me. He wore dirty gray coveralls with grimy bronze colored epaulettes sewn onto the shoulders. He leaned over to a girl next to him and they laughed at something.
"OK, this is Ricky." Elena said pointing at captain coveralls.
"This is El Jon." El Jon saluted me with two fingers, barely opening his eyes. He looked like he might fall asleep in his chair.
"OK, this is Aaron and this is Opal."
Opal was beautiful. Aaron saw me noticing and put his arm around her.
"So what is there to do around here? I said.
They laughed. Opal looked embarrassed.
"Oh! Tonight there's something. When is that?" Opal said.
"Like ten, maybe?" Elena answered her. "We’ll know. Everyone will be going there."
"Alright." I said. "I’ll catch up with you guys later then. I've got a few things to do."
It was a lie, of course, but I couldn't just sit there with them like an idiot. They all looked vaguely displeased when I said I was leaving and I knew then that it was the right decision.
*
Space 2067
I remember dreaming and when I woke up, Ed was playing a game on his heads-up-display. According to my readout, we were slowed down to a level fluctuating between 1 to 2% of normal. That is, a minute to us would be something between 50 and 100 minutes of actual time.
Ed was playing chess. The board was a hologram in front of him. His eye movements controlled the pieces. I could hear a book being read aloud in a deep English accent.
"Good morning, Captain." Ed said still staring at the chessboard.
"Yeah. Is it? Is it morning?" I said.
"It will be soon. You've been asleep for four months, by the way."
I thought about that for a couple of hours.
"Take a fresh pill, Captain. The chip is keeping it active in your blood but you need to top it up every so often. You’ll be good for a few years after another one. Set a reminder for yourself."
"Yes. OK." I took another one of the purple diamonds out and dry swallowed it. Something was bothering me.
"Ed, how are you listening to that? How is that audio playing at the correct speed? Shouldn't it sound fast to us?" I asked.
"Ah, you never studied. Adjusts based on biometric inputs. Pulse rate, blinking, respiration rate; all feedback from the chip and I can fine tune it manually if necessary."
"Was it necessary?"
"No. We’re at the same speed, too, if you haven't noticed. The chips keep us synced as long as we have enough of that shit in our system."
"I thought it adjusted the speed up or down based on our metabolic needs."
"It does both. Our bodies are pretty flexible. Communication is the priority."
Ed and I talked for a long time then, about all sorts of things. If we got stuck on one topic, there was the library to pull up for reference or to spark a new thread. The chip tended and stabilized the sharpness of our minds. We had no real need to sleep while in the slowed down state. Ed eventually moved the chessboard hologram into the space between us and we talked and played while weeks and months went by barely noticed in our comfortable module passing through the vacuum.
*
WA 2092
Elena found me. It couldn't have been that hard. I was taking a nap after showering when the doorbell softly chimed.
She came in with a rush, chattering and accidentally spilling the contents of her purse out on the glass table. She scooped them back up without breaking her monologue,
"I don't want you to think I do this all the time. I really don’t very often make a connection with anyone, you know. I feel like...we have a bond. I don't know. We’re both so real. Oh, and I want to apologize for my friends earlier. They're really not that bad. They just, I don't know, sort of act that way around people. Sometimes."
She smiled, taking off her clothes, carefully folding and stacking them in a pile on the table. I had yet to say a word.
"So? What do you think?" She said posing a little, having stripped down to her panties and a short T-shirt.
Her skin was shockingly pale but smooth and free of blemishes. She had a nicely trim body under all those clothes.
"Take a shower first," I said and went into the bathroom to turn the water on for her.
&
It was past ten when we left the colony building. Elena was hanging on my arm and awkwardly walking out of step along with me. The crowd at the cafe had thinned to half capacity. Blue burning gas lamps were turned low. Dark shiny faces and voices followed us across the square.
"So, what is this thing? Some kind of play?" I asked her while we slump-walked through the park.
"Oh, no, not at all. Much more meaningful. Genuine. I mean, it's brilliant. It's not really something I would do, but I can definitely appreciate it."
She didn't really answer my question but I didn't care enough to ask again. A quiet moment followed as we walked through a pocket of cherry trees strung with Christmas lights.
"It's a suicide." Elena said in a small voice.
"How’s that?" I said.
"How, what? What do you mean? They’re going to kill themselves. It's a form of protest.” She paused for effect and went on, encouraged by my silence,
"You’re surprised, I bet. But we’re not all happy here...what is your name again?"
I'd not told her yet but she must have gotten it somewhere earlier in order to find my room. Or did she just go around trying doors?
"You need to meet with Braulio soon, maybe tomorrow. He’ll get you going on a project. You have to do something. Braulio's work is often amazing, truly. He uses a lot of self developed techniques. His latest stuff has this intentional “half finished” quality...
I really hope you give it your best, you know? It's actually really important that you do."
"Why are there so many plants and trees here now? It's too much. Whenever I go outside it stinks like a fragrant dump." I said.
“Ugh.”
“You know?”
“What are you talking about? God, again, it’s always something. You’re just so moody. Honestly, I don't see the point in it."
She walked ahead of me after that, quickly, only once giving me the courtesy of a look backward. Her eyes we
re blank. When we arrived at the gathering, she mumbled something and slipped away into the crowd.
This thing, whatever they called it, was held in a corner of the park hidden from view of the sidewalk by tall, well groomed hedges. It was an outdoor theater. Wide steps sloped downward to a little stage made in a style similar to those of Ancient Greece. But there weren't more than about 150 people here and it was nearly full. The real ones were a lot bigger.
On the stage was an assortment of serious looking, torch-lit faces. One of them moved his hands around in the harmless red fire of a nearby torch pole. He was captivated by it, ignoring the others trying to get him to come over from the edge of the stage and join them. The show was about to begin. The sunken floor lights in the aisles went out leaving the white, red flickering stage in sharp relief.
Good evening, pilgrims. We’re so GLAD to have you here - to SEE this -
Chorus: Our death, our final act. The end of the end of the waking dream.
-We will not miss you, dear audience. We will not mourn you. We will live only as a dream -
Chorus: To become a dream. In life, in death. Only a dream to some. To others, only a nightmare.
They went on like this. Some guys in the group in front of me were having a good laugh.
These guys were dressed differently and acted differently than the artist crowd. They wore new, finely tailored suits, or blazers with patterned slacks. One of them removed a flask from his cashmere jacket, took a swig, then passed it. He pulled up his sleeve to check a large and complex square wristwatch on a gray alligator band.
"Obnoxious, innit?" said a man standing beside me. He also wore a sort of suit but it was worn out at the joints, rumpled and black with thin white pinstripes. His accent was English. He was not young. He had a bunch of tall, wavy black hair and held a cigarette in his thin fingers.
"Who? Those guys or the act down there?" I said.
"Hahh, I don't even notice them anymore. No, the morbid bunch on stage. You know what they’re after?"
"Attention of some kind, obviously. Are they really going to kill themselves?”
"No, well, it’s a symbolic thing, you see. They're going to stop taking their longevity pills. They did the same thing last year. Nobody remembers. They don't think they're getting enough resources at the colony."
"They're going to kill themselves if they don't get more resources?"
"Yes, something like that, rather slowly. But there's nothing in particular that they want. They just think the New York colony has it better. I guess they just want what New York has, but I promise you nobody here has any idea what that actually is...or what to do with it if they got it."
The main speaker onstage held his hand out in front of him and turned his palm downward. Two small white pills skittered onto the hard stage floor. Tears streamed down his red cheeks.
"Uh huh, so what happens when they start getting older?"
"Oh, they'll chicken out or probably lose interest and forget to not take them after a few days. It doesn't matter. I'm pretty sure we don't even need the pills anymore."
We left with the first act still in progress to go for a walk. The drunk guys in suits followed and passed, ignoring us, laughing and arguing with each other.
"Market traders." My new friend explained and stopped to light a fresh smoke. "They’re always very happy with themselves."
"Traders? What could they possibly be trading? I thought that sort of thing was obsolete."
He looked sideways at me like I might be putting him on,
"Part of the game, fellow artist. They don't win or lose."
*
Space 2070
Hektor 624 was shaped like a peanut. It was one of the bigger asteroids in orbit around the sun but was much smaller than our moon. We were there to witness its demise and much of the aftermath.
Seven years earlier, three years in advance of our launch, the computers on Earth had predicted the collision. Hektor would collide with a small extra-solar asteroid and then, with its orbit modified, it was projected to crash into Jupiter.
With a pill, we came out of our slowed down state to watch. Ahead of schedule again, we could see nothing of either of the asteroids yet.
"Let's go back under the influence, what do you say, Captain?" Ed said bringing out his southern accent.
"You don't think we’ll get in trouble?" I said joking but still half serious.
"Possibly, I suppose. Now, right now, we’re in a stationery coupling. Over around that bend there it’ll be coming but not for 30 hours and I'm about too talked and chessed out to wait that long."
He had pointed to Jupiter which hung in the display as a multi-hued red circle, the size of a golf ball to us, oddly contrasted against the flat blackness around it. Our craft was locked onto Jupiter’s orbit at a constant distance which would begin to decrease as the event approached. Hektor 624 was coming toward us. 3731127MP was the smaller asteroid which we would see coming from overhead.
I convinced Ed the event would be better experienced at normal speed and we could easily miss it by slowing ourselves down.
We waited quietly, not talking or gaming. I remembered Moby Dick and got back into it.
I tried to read, but could feel tension building. Ed was pouting to himself. With no perceived motion, the cramped cabin started for the first time to feel small. Bad thoughts intruded my mind; I getting claustrophobic.
"Alright, I see your point. No sense delaying it if we don't have to." I said closing the HUD.
Ed looked straight ahead. He was unresponsive. I checked his vital stats.
"You’re an asshole, you know that?" I said putting one of the purple pills in my mouth to dissolve under my tongue.
"Hooolllyyy ssshhhiiiit!" Hektor hurled into view as Jupiter swelled to the size of a pizza. 3731127MP hit Hektor like a bullet - dead center causing a flash of yellow light. This all happened in what to us seemed like only a couple of seconds.
One lobe of Hektor was supposed to be pulverized by the impact while the other was knocked into Jupiter but that's not what happened. The asteroid split cleanly into two pieces. One tumbled toward Jupiter. The other passed close to our craft, close enough to see the detail in its pockmarked brown surface.
Jupiter loomed, getting larger in the window. We followed one half of Hektor and watched it get swallowed up into the dense atmosphere. A aura of white light enveloped the asteroid. Its last moment ended with the whole mass glowing as it disintegrated and was absorbed.
"Oh, man, look at that. Goddamn, son." Southern Ed said. The creamy red and orange surface took up the entire display. It churned in a thousand eddies and pools of swirling, melting and freezing ammonia and simple hydrocarbons, vortexes forming and dissolving below us at 80x normal speed.
"Nauseating. I mean, almost." I said. We sank inward, downward into the churning.
*
WA 2092
He called himself Clarke. We stayed out late that night after the play drinking and telling stories. He told me about the colony. How he was a freelance writer originally from London. And how after living in Seattle for years, not selling much, and having taken part in all the earlier projects, he was eventually installed here as dean of the department of the spoken and written word. There were 5 other deans in this department. Two dimensional visual arts, or paintings, had 21 deans.
Tonight, Clarke was supposed to introduce me to Braulio, the head of the whole colony. He said Braulio was one of the few people around here worth knowing.
In the meantime, I lounged by myself in the square, enjoying a brief moment of sunshine. Everyone else at the colony was either still asleep or still going from the night before and in too bad of shape to be out in the daylight.
I'd gotten up at eleven after only a few hours sleep. Maybe it was an after effect of the semi hibernation in space, but I found I didn't need as much sleep as before. More likely it was the AMP.
Since the nightclub in Ruth, I had developed a taste for drinking the
wine and beer with the red tag on the side. AMP was in them, an option added to all of the normal brands. It was a mild but long lasting stimulant. Among the colony people, I got the impression drinking AMP was looked down upon though everyone here was on at least one thing or another.
The colony building was not a normal high rise though it would appear to be one from a distance. The interior plan was not organized in a normal layout of separate floors, hallways and rooms. I didn't notice this at first as my room on K was on what looked to be approximately 11th floor and it was near the elevator.
King's County Page 5