by Tessa Clare
“How come you still have an Experian?” I ask, pointing to the computer logo curiously. I would have thought that someone as interested in technology as Roman would invest in something formidable. “I figured they went out of business ten years ago.”
Roman shrugs. “I don’t know. This was the first computer that I ever owned. I bought it used off one of my old buddies in college. I didn’t have a lot of money back then, so I couldn’t afford anything better. Even now, I don’t think…” He trails off, eying me nervously. I know what he was going to say: he can’t afford it.
I glance at the projector. It’s then that I notice that Roman’s palm-sized computer has camera lenses, which is reflecting his face onto the projector. The image freezes in place. Then a computer voice says, “Welcome, Roman Irvine.”
“I installed facial recognition,” Roman explains. “It’s pretty awesome because passwords can be intercepted. It’s annoying at first, but it’s perfect for keeping the hackers away. You can never be too careful.”
I sneeze, prompting Roman to hand me the napkin that’s sitting on the coffee table. There’s a ketchup stain on it, but I’m eager to wipe the snot that’s coming out of my nose.
“Anyways,” Roman continues, as he opens a folder on his computer. It takes a few seconds to load Roman’s impressive list of movies. “What are you in the mood to watch? I don’t just have science fiction films. I also have a small collection of thriller films, some westerns, a few spy flicks…”
I sneeze again. My eyes begin to water.
Roman looks at me in alarm. “Are you okay?”
I nod. “Yeah. I just feel like I have something in my nose.”
“Spring allergies?”
“No,” I say, pausing as another sneeze overtakes my body. “I don’t get spring allergies. I’m just allergic to…” I pause, remembering something that Roman once told me: ‘I have a cat named Neville – who, by the way, is the greatest cat in the world.’ Roman has mentioned him a few times to me, but I’ve never seen him. Unfortunately, I don’t need to. “You have a cat.”
Roman’s eyes widen. “Don’t tell me you’re allergic.”
Sneeze.
“I don’t think I need to,” I say.
“Shit,” Roman groans. He stands up from the futon. “Let me go find him. What do I need to do?”
“Medicine,” I manage to gasp out. “And is there another room you could put him in?”
Roman finds the cat hiding underneath the futon and locks him in the bathroom, which makes me feel tremendously guilty. His meows echo throughout the apartment, so Roman leaves him with a bag of catnip and a few toys to keep him entertained. When he comes out of the bathroom, he has a pill jar in one hand and a glass of water in the other. I take it eagerly.
“It’s what I take for my seasonal allergies,” Roman explains. “It should help.”
The nice thing about Roman being “normal” is that he still has medicine stockpiled in his cabinet. Once a person is injected with BIONs, things like allergies and cases of the flu disappear like magic. Unfortunately, they don’t go away for the rest of us.
Roman takes his seat on the futon, working on playing with the settings on his computer screen. My vision is hazy, and my eyes are still pink from the allergen exposure, but I can’t stop myself from looking at him. His lips press together, and his brows furrow in concentration. Something is appealing about a man that can get lost in the little things. I like to think that he can get lost in the big stuff – like love – as well.
He catches me staring at him. “What?”
I shrug as I take a few extra sips of water. When I finish swallowing it down, I set the glass on the coffee table and scoot a little closer towards Roman.
“When did you know that you wanted to do network security?” I ask.
Roman glances up at the projection screen to see if his movie is playing (it isn’t), before turning to look at me. “I don’t know. To be honest, I only went back to school for it when I realized that my History degree wasn’t getting me anywhere. But now that I think about it…” He pauses, wistful. “My parents started letting me play computer games when I was five; and every time they wanted to punish me, they would change the password. Being the bratty kid that I was, I would find ways to figure out what it was – which wasn’t very hard, since they used the same five passwords for everything. I eventually figured out how to use proxy servers to…” He trails off, turning red. I have a feeling that he used it to look up things that a kid shouldn’t be viewing. “Anyways, I initially majored in History; because I was curious about how the Confederal Districts came to be. There’s so much that they don’t teach us, particularly where North Amerigo is concerned.”
“You mean America?”
He nods. “See, that’s another area of debate. You see, it was named after Amerigo Vespucci…” He waves a hand. “I won’t bore you with the details. Anyways, it ended up being a terrible degree choice. I was working as a clerk for a museum for minimum wage when I decided to go back to school. I thought that computer science would be a better choice. It turns out, it was only marginally better.” A flash of white appears on the screen, and then the opening credits of a movie are synced to the projector. “Success!”
With that, I assume that the conversation is over.
“So, what are we watching?” I ask.
“The Avalon Predator,” says Roman, setting his laptop onto the coffee table so that he has a free arm to wrap around my shoulder. “It’s an epic tale of a rogue robot set on destroying humanity and a duo that consists of two people that were sent from rivaling countries to stop it. At first, they try to kill each other, but they become friends.” He pauses, stopping himself from spoiling the entire movie. “I hope that’s okay with you.”
I nod, trying to keep myself from giggling at how adorable Roman looks whenever he gets excited over a movie. “That sounds great!”
The opening credits roll in. As it does, I can feel Roman’s heart race. I wonder if it’s because of the movie or my presence. The film, while tolerable, isn’t quite my cup of tea. While the visual effects are impressive, the main characters have way too much testosterone for my liking. They’ve begun the movie with a battle scene between the two of them, both of whom prefer to fight with antique swords instead of the high-tech guns that the other characters have. It’s cheesy, but Roman can’t take his eyes off the screen.
Halfway through the movie, the medicine takes effect, and my allergies begin to clear. By now, the two main characters have stopped trying to kill each other and have formed a tentative alliance – and this is as much as I can figure out. They’ve spent a good portion of the film discussing robots and how to disable them, neither of which makes sense to me. Roman is too engrossed in the movie to notice my boredom, so I try my hand at distracting him.
I bury my nose inside the crook of his neck and plant a kiss. Roman’s breath catches in his throat. “What are you doing?”
A mischievous smile crosses his lips as I continue my onslaught. “Distracting you.”
“Why…” A moan escapes his lips, and his cheeks redden. He swallows. “Why would you do that?”
“It’s fun,” I say casually. I don’t think I need a legitimate reason.
“Are you not having fun already?”
“Not as much as we could be having,” I purr seductively. I don’t think that Roman will take me seriously. After two months of dating, we have yet to take our relationship to the next level. I’m not sure if it’s because Roman is slow at taking hints or if he isn’t interested in a sexual relationship. Based on his reaction to my touch, I’m assuming it’s the former.
I’m about to pull him into a kiss when he wraps an arm around my waist and turns me over so that I’m lying on the futon. I squeak, startled by the sudden movement. He hovers over me, gazing into my eyes.
“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes.
I respond by wrapping my hands in his hair and pull him closer to me. He b
uries his head in my neck, and I plant kisses on his neck, shoulder, and earlobe. As my hands find its way underneath his shirt, I find myself hoping that this is the moment that I’ve been waiting for. Roman is lean – skinny enough that I can feel a light trace of ribs, but meaty enough that he can hold me down if he wants to. And he’s beautiful, especially as he’s gazing down at me with utter adoration in his eyes.
“April,” he breathes, his eyes searching mine. He touches my face, as though he’s having a hard time believing that this is real. I’m having a hard time believing it. Never in my life have I felt so aroused, adored… and loved. Roman looks away, as he struggles to find his next words. “Listen, April. I just want you to know something. I know we don’t always agree on everything, and maybe I don’t always fit in your world.”
‘You belong in my world,’ I want to say.
He swallows. “But I want you to know… that I…”
My heart stops in anticipation of his next words, but they don’t come. He looks away from me, as though he’s ashamed of himself. But I don’t know why. He’s beautiful, and there’s not a thing in this world that can make me think otherwise.
“Hey,” I murmur, cupping his face so that he’d look at me. “I know.”
His eyes are soft as he gazes at me, admiring me and questioning my words, all at once. After a few moments of silence, he presses his lips to mine hungrily.
His shirt is the first thing to come off. I pry it over his head, leaving his curly hair ruffled in its wake. Once removed, he starts kissing me all over – my hair, my neck, my lips – and I can feel his hands on my body, but he hesitates like he’s unsure what to do with them. It’s when I feel his desire pressing against me that I pull my shirt over my head. The sight of my bare chest is the only signal he needs before his hands move down my chest and to the zipper on my pants. The rest of my clothes are soon on his living room floor, the movie forgotten.
He doesn’t last long the first round. He offers an apology and tells me that it’s been awhile. I kiss him and assure him that it’s alright, and then he holds me close to him. We’re still bare as we continue watching The Avalon Predator. Before the movie ends, Roman pulls me into another kiss; and I barely have a chance to recover from the first round before I’m underneath him again. He lasts longer the second time around, having found a steady rhythm that continues long after the credits stop rolling. I come again and again before he collapses against me.
I fall asleep quickly, my body tired from our activities and comfortable in the warmth of Roman’s futon. He wraps an arm around me, and I fall into a dreamless sleep. Perhaps reality is finally better than anything that my imagination can conjure up.
In the middle of the night, I awake in Roman’s arms. His nose is buried in my hair.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Did I wake you?”
I don’t answer, nuzzling closer to him.
He lets out a content sigh. “Your hair smells amazing, by the way.”
I laugh, feeling a bit self-conscious about my decision to skip a shower this morning. “Thanks.”
He responds by kissing the top of my head.
“Hey, Roman?”
“Yeah?”
“I heard you say earlier that you weren’t sure if I was technically your girlfriend.”
Silence fills the air. I imagine Roman is turning red in embarrassment. “I guess I should have talked to you first. I just… wasn’t sure what label to give this. Us.”
“Well,” I begin, leaning my head against his chest. “I’d like to have that talk.”
He yawns. “Does it have to be right now?”
“If it counts for anything, I’d like to be your girlfriend. If that’s what you want.”
Roman responds by stroking my shoulder, leaving tingles on my skin. “That’s what I want. I want it more than anything.”
Those are the last words he says before we fall asleep. For the first time in my life, I feel complete.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ROMAN
I ’m whistling as I walk into the bureau’s headquarters. It’s been two weeks since April and I spent our first night together. Since then, I’m beginning to learn her sleep patterns – or, more particularly, the fact that she hates mornings. Some days, I wake her up and make her breakfast; and other days, I forfeit my morning routine to spend the morning holding her. This morning, I chose the latter. Worth it. Nothing can ruin the state of bliss I’m in.
I realize a moment later that the universe is determined to prove me wrong.
“Pardon me,” a rushed voice says, followed by a small woman squeezing next to me a moment later. I brush it off as the everyday operations of the Divinity Bureau. People are always in a rush, scrambling from one appeal to the next.
But when I enter the lobby, the sight before me was anything but typical. Uniformed officers are guarding an area roped off and crowded with a mix of people and gear. Some of them have badges that read “PRESS.” Others are wearing security badges. Cameras and guns blend that I can’t tell them apart.
When I approach the front desk, I’m appalled to find that no one is allowed into the office until further notice.
“What’s going on?” I ask, irritated that whatever is happening will likely result in extra hours that I’ll need to work.
“It’s a press conference,” a red-haired security guard answers. His badge reads ‘Michael.’ “The Minister of Population Regulation is here.”
I suddenly feel underdressed. In most cases, the Minister of Population Regulation has direct authority over the Divinity Bureau. He’s a member of the legislative branch, assigned by the Prime Minister to oversee the standards of population regulation. From what I remember, April’s dad used to work directly with him.
I only have one question: “Why?”
Michael opens his mouth to answer, though the sound of blaring speakers cut him off.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Gideon’s voice interjects over the sound system. “The Minister of Population Regulation, Nolan Fitz.”
I look up in time to see the crowd burst into applause. I’ve never seen Nolan Fitz before, but his picture is in every corner of the Divinity Bureau. He’s been the Minister of Population Regulation for as long as I’ve been alive. Surprisingly, he’s very liberal. He’s part of the Cyberocracy Party, and he is the one that pioneered using a computer to make election decisions. As a member of the national party that believes in using a computer to make decisions, he is, unsurprisingly, rarely in the public eye.
He looks a decade older than the picture that I’ve seen of him. He reminds me of a crossover between a snake and a lion. His hair is slicked back, stiff under the weight of all the product in it.
I soon realize that it’s not his face that looks older. He was born in the same year that the Confederal Districts were erected, so he had to have stopped his aging long ago. It’s his eyes – beady and black – that look older. They look resigned to a life of futility. It’s a stark contrast to Gideon, who always looks like he’s planning his next move.
A move to take Nolan Fitz’s job, perhaps?
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the man says slowly. “Thank you all for coming today.”
The crowd offers a slow clap, before Fitz motions for them to sit.
“I wanted to call you here today to announce a major change in election protocol,” says Fitz. “It’s part of a major restructuring plan that is designed to address the country’s current overpopulation problem while the bureau works out a plan for a long-term solution.” He pauses, looking around the room. I swear that he’s looking right at me. “As many of you know, overpopulation has been a growing concern for the last several decades, spiking rapidly upon the public release of biological technology designed to stop the aging process, known commonly as BIONs. Historically, it is what lead to the downfall of the United States of America – but we will not let it bring down the Confederal Districts.”
The audience breaks into applause. I think
of April’s words in the observation deck: “Below us lie the lives of 350 million people, spread across the Confederal Districts. Some of them will live forever. Some won’t even live to see a day.”
“Therefore, I wanted to announce that we will be removing the barriers on the election protocol,” Fitz proclaims. “This upcoming election, we will be electing five thousand candidates outside the standard restrictions. This includes anyone that has not been injected with BIONs and anyone under the age of one hundred. The change will be effective immediately and will be reflected on the next quarter’s report.”
My world comes to a halt.
No.
The audience bursts into questions.
No.
“Why five thousand candidates?”
No.
“Who will be most affected by the change?”
All I can do is stand in shock. I feel as though I’m watching myself from outside my body. A part of me is screaming at me to say something. Do something. But all I can do is look at the scene unfolding before me.
“Roman?”
Even if the Bureau announced that only one person “standard restrictions” was going to be on the list, I have a feeling that I know who it’ll be. The thing is, I still haven’t figured out why.
“Roman?”
April already survived the election thanks to my intervention; but given the conversation that I overheard between Gideon and the mysterious man, I know that she isn’t going to be lucky the second time around. If they want her dead, she will surely be dead by the next election.
A hand is on my shoulder. “Roman? Can you hear me?”
I turn my head to see Finn standing next to me. He motions towards the elevator.
“We need to go,” he says.
I can’t leave. I have many questions, and I need to see the press conference to its completion, but there’s nothing I can say. All I can do is nod my head and let Finn escort me past security and into the confines of the office. Some boyfriend I am, if I can’t even stand up for my girlfriend.