by RS McCoy
She felt immense pressure.
“And what could be the connection between social class and parasitological infection?” Her tone was one of curiosity rather than accusation.
“I don’t know. There can’t be one. That doesn’t make sense,” Mable admitted.
“What about the Scholar Academy? It’s a centralized location for Scholars. Might they be infected during their internships?”
“No. Many of the cases are international. Japanese and Spanish Scholars would have no reason to go to one of the Scholar Academies in North America. Unless every academy was infected—”
“Unlikely,” Ramona decided.
The silence returned, the two minds busy thinking through the massive problem. Mable wished Ramona could be her handler. The woman was sharp as a blade. Even in her old age, she made Theo look like a pet rock.
“Arrenstein paired me with Theo,” she said aloud, not at all sure if Ramona even knew who Theo was.
“And whose fault is that?”
Mable’s mouth fell open. Good thing Ramona was blind or she might have been quite offended. “How could that possibly be my fault?”
“You didn’t take the tests.”
“So?”
“So don’t expect special treatment. Play by the rules if you want to get ahead around here.” Despite her useless eyes, Ramona leaned forward and pointed a knobby-knuckled finger at her.
“I don’t expect special treatment.” Her tone was defensive.
“Then you shouldn’t have any disagreements about your partner. You were assigned a team and now you must operate as a member of that team. End of discussion.”
Mable pushed her lips together. Damn she hated it when someone else was right.
“Fine.” She pushed off the plush rug and got to her feet. She could only take so much advice. “Can I come back and see you sometime?”
“Anytime you like, child.” Ramona smiled, though it was a sad sort of smile.
Mable wondered how much time she spent alone in this room. Probably too much. She would come back and see Ramona as often as she could. It was the least she could do.
AIDA
LRF-PS-101
AUGUST 14, 2232
Aida tapped her slim blue stylus against the edge of her desk. What was taking so long? Five days and still no data.
She pushed out of her chair and crossed the hall to Calvin’s office. “Have you received the probe data for 196 yet?”
Calvin’s green eyes looked up from his display and twisted his mouth into a frown. “No, I’m afraid not. Shall we comm Robotics?”
Aida tapped the toe of her high-heel on the floor and considered her options. Robotics would have the most accurate information about the delay, but they were already aware of issues within Planetary Systems. If they commed Robotics about another issue, it could highlight an ongoing problem in the department—her department.
“Yes, comm them please,” she said. There was no way around it.
Dr. Hill found the comm link and waited for the connection. Aida stayed by the door.
“Dr. Fobbs, Robotics,” announced the doctor as his features appeared and hovered over the desk.
“Good afternoon, Dr. Fobbs. We are eagerly awaiting the data on our most recent exoplanet. Have you had any communication with Astra 3 in regards to Perkins-196?”
The robotech shook his head. “I’m afraid not. We lost contact with Astra 3 seventy-two hours ago. Pending declaration of total loss, we sent Athena 1. She’s an old model, slow moving girl, but she gets the job done.”
“Excellent. Do you have a projected time schedule to receive the preliminary report?” Dr. Hill looked over the display and winked at Aida.
“Unfortunately, I don’t,” began Dr. Fobbs who clearly fumbled with something on his desk just out of the field of view. “Athena 1 stopped communication thirty-six hours ago, right as she reached the sector. We sent another probe to identify possible sources of interference, but so far we haven’t received back any data.”
Dr. Hill pursed his lips. “How many probes have you lost?”
Dr. Fobbs continued fidgeting. “Currently, five. The sixth is on the way. It’s an analog probe from the old days, but it’s all we have left in region. If she doesn’t come through, it could be weeks to get another one out there. I’ll keep you posted.”
“We’d appreciate it. Thank you,” Dr. Hill said as he ended the comm. The space between them cleared.
“Do you think the probe malfunction could indicate an unsafe condition in the surrounding sector?” Aida asked the obvious question.
“There’s no way to know at this point. We can only wait.”
She knew as much, but it wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear. There was so much pressure on her to find a planet, to find a place to house ten billion people slowly suffocating on a dying Earth.
Calvin crossed the room and stood before her. He placed a palm on the sides of her shoulders. “There is absolutely nothing that you could have done one way or another to prevent this. Besides, good things are worth waiting for.” He smiled down at her. Aida thought how young he looked, no older than twenty-three or four. He wasn’t the classic beautiful of most Scholars. Instead, he was more rugged, his jaw more square, his beard less shaven.
And he was different in every other way. He regarded her as if she was the only other person in the room, though she often was. Calvin seemed to always consider her, even when she didn’t consider herself.
In close quarters, his presence made her uncomfortable.
“I’m sure you’re right. Thank you for making the comm.” Aida pulled from his grip and returned to her office, only to find it as unsatisfying as it had been before. She had nothing to do except wait, for possibly weeks.
She could look into other planets. In fact, she should look at other planets, but it felt wrong somehow. If Perkins-196 proved to be what she thought it was, then Dr. Parr had had his part in saving the human race. If they moved on to something else, his place in science would never be remembered.
Though Dr. Parr had never been concerned with such things. Now that he was gone, Aida was determined to uphold his memory in every possible way. She wasn’t ready to consider other options yet.
But she couldn’t stay in her office all day and night.
Aida left her office and made the short walk home. The corridors held busy Scholars on the way to one place or another, each absorbed in their tablets or their conversations with fellow researchers. They were the best genetic sampling available. While minor traits like hair color and eye color varied, the Scholars of LRF displayed the requisite increased height, appropriate body mass index, attractive features, and superior mental capacity. They were the cream of the genetic crop. The best of the best.
She, too, was one of them. She was engineered like the rest.
Still, as she walked amongst them, she felt different, outside, foreign.
Finding her apartment empty, Aida collapsed onto the bed. She couldn’t help but think she had been misassigned in her placement. Of course, working with Dr. Parr had been the only meaningful position of her life. Without him, she doubted she needed to be at the LRF at all. She wasn’t accomplishing anything here.
And she was less likely to be granted a Child Permit here. The LRF had limited space and resources, and of those, only a small percentage were made available to offspring. There were no geneticists. She would have to freeze their gametes to send for evaluation and selection before they could be implanted. It would be considerably more work in an already arduous process.
Aida knew it would be worth it. With work so slow and Sal so absent, a child could be something to fill her life with meaning again. As she lay in her empty apartment, Aida was more and more sure of it. She wanted a child.
She made up her mind to talk to Sal about relocating back to Earth and applying for a permit. At least, they could start working on it.
THEO
CPI-RW2-02, NEW YORK
AUG
UST 14, 2232
She was horrible. She was awful. She was repulsive.
And he was stuck with her.
Her. Mable. The human cactus of all people.
Theo was a Scholar and Mable was an Untouchable. She was not only below him, she was miles below him. Here at CPI, such things weren’t supposed to matter, but Theo had little confidence that wide a chasm could be crossed at the wave of a hand.
Besides, he’d clearly done something to piss her off.
Theo left Mable’s room and went straight to Jane’s.
“You okay?” he asked when she opened the door.
“No! Ugh, Georgie? He’s a giant and an idiot. A giant idiot. He’s so unattractive, gross. I can’t believe they put me with him! Didn’t you request to be with me? Don’t you want to be with me?”
Jane’s lip stuck out in a pout, a disgusting look for such a pretty girl.
“Of course I do. And I did request you. Obviously they didn’t listen.” Given the choice between Jane or Mable, it was an obvious one.
“Ugghhhh,” she howled. “I’m going to kill Nick!”
Her words picked at him, removing a bit of the scab that had formed over his guilt at killing the boy. Never again would he take such words lightly.
“We’ll figure something out.” Theo was a problem-solver. He could find a solution. It may not involve microscopic robots, but he would make it work.
“Promise?” She looked up at him. Her eyes were full of tears and her lip quivered.
Of course he promised. He would do anything to be the man she needed.
Theo stood tall knowing she counted on him.
“At least you got the job you wanted,” he offered, a paltry attempt to cheer her up. Not only was Theo stuck with someone he didn’t care for, he was also stuck at a desk. He would much rather go out and see the world.
“Do you think she’s pretty?” Jane stared up at him with big sad eyes.
“What? No, of course not.” He couldn’t deny Mable had a certain appeal, if for no other reason than she was entirely different than anyone else he’d ever seen, but he wasn’t about to tell that to Jane.
“Yes, you do. You’re going to like her more than me. You’ll spend all day with her and forget about me. That’s what always happens.”
“That’s impossible.” Theo grappled for something to say, anything to appease her. “We come from the same class, the same families. We had expectations and privileges she’ll never understand. She’s just too different from us. I’ll do my best to work with her, but that’s all it’ll ever be.”
Jane leaned forward and pressed her ear to his chest and wrapped her arms around him. “You’re the best. I can’t believe I don’t get to be with you.”
For another hour, Theo let Jane voice her complaints. He was willing to be that shoulder for her. But eventually, her penchant for whining outlasted his patience. Talking with Jane wouldn’t solve anything, except to make him more upset and angry.
He made his excuses and left. On his wristlet, he sent a desperate ecomm to Nate. Of course, no reply. After so much silence, he hadn’t had much hope, but still it was worth a shot.
Theo had never been much of a talker, probably his Scholar upbringing, but if that were the case, Jane should have been quiet, too. Perhaps it was him. He was more of a doer than a talker, and he was determined to do something about this.
He headed to the third floor, to the small wing on the north side, the one that had only two doors. Theo had never been to Nick’s office, but he knew where to find it. The door was open when he arrived.
Nick looked up and leaned back in his chair. He stroked the expensive fabric of his tie. “I know, it’s not what you wanted.”
“Not even close.”
“Mable can be difficult, but someone has to be her partner. You’re the best equipped.”
“You put me on her team because I’m better than the others?” Theo scoffed at the unfairness. That wasn’t how things were supposed to work. The best should get the best.
“Something like that,” Nick folded his hands together and rested his chin on them.
“There’s no way to get switched?”
“No. I won’t say it never happens, because it has on rare occasions. When the two were incompatible beyond repair or there was a failed assignment that compromised the functionality of the team, but otherwise, no. The teams are set.”
“How long until we can get a new assignment?”
“You won’t get one, Theo. That’s what I’m saying. As long as you’re with CPI, you’ll be on a recon team with Mable. Dr. Arrenstein is very clear on this point.” He sighed and added, “This isn’t your whole life, this is just your job. You’ll live here on premises for the first year, you’ll have all your friends here. You just have to work with her. This is your duty.”
Nick stressed the last word because he knew it was the one that would appeal to him most. He was a Scholar, after all. Or used to be. But his need to fulfill and contribute hadn’t wavered.
Theo nodded his acceptance.
One way or another, he was going to have to make it work with Mable.
DASIA
CPI-RQ2-04, NEW YORK
AUGUST 16, 2232
Dasia flopped her head against her pillow for the hundredth time. She kicked off her sheets and squeezed her eyes shut, but she only saw him all the clearer. Cole smiled at her, eyes shimmering with anth like always. He was real enough to touch.
But he wasn’t real. Dasia rolled over and tried to sleep, but still he followed her. She could hear his voice, smooth as vid star as he said, “Hey, butterfly.”
She pushed out of bed. It was no use. In the silence of night, she was alone.
Dasia found herself at Mable’s door. She rapped her knuckles as softly as possible and produced a tiny sound. If Mable were sleeping, she wouldn’t hear.
In the silent corridor, Dasia heard the shuffle of Mable’s sheets a few seconds before the door opened. Her dark hair was messed with sleep but her eyes were bright, as if she’d been awake for hours. She wore sleek black boy shorts and a green-striped tank.
When she saw Dasia, Mable smiled with laughing eyes and didn’t say a word, as if she’d known Dasia would come all along. Mable’s hand found hers and pulled her in.
The bedside lamp cast a low light across the room. Mable’s tablet sat illuminated where she’d tossed it to the side a moment before, pages of some book visible on the screen.
Dasia suddenly felt like she shouldn’t be there, but Mable’s eyes were locked on hers. Before her, Mable stood in her little shorts and a glint in her eye Dasia couldn’t quite figure out. She licked her lips and reached out for Dasia’s hand.
Dasia had a good two inches on her, but it was Mable who took the lead.
Her hands started on Dasia’s waist pulling her close before snaking to her lower back. Her face fell in against Dasia’s neck. She hovered there for several eternal seconds before planting a series of slow, gentle kisses.
Dasia’s heart pounded so hard, she knew Mable could hear it, could feel the blood pumping through her veins as she pressed her lips to her skin. Dasia had never experienced anything like Mable.
“Don’t be afraid,” Mable whispered between kisses.
Dasia swallowed hard. “I’m not,” she lied.
Mable stopped in an instant. Her large eyes looked up, searching Dasia’s face. Then she turned and sat on the side of the bed, Dasia’s hands in both of hers. Mable wrapped her legs around Dasia’s and pulled her down.
Dasia collapsed over top of her. Mable’s black hair spread in every direction across the sheets. Dark shadows fell across her features.
They were so close, it was easy for Mable to reach up and kiss her. This time, Dasia kissed her back. Each time Mable made a move, Dasia reciprocated. Every little touch of affection spurred her on.
Sometime before dawn, Dasia finally gave in to sleep, one arm around Mable’s bare back. When she woke, Mable sat against her pillow
s with a book in her lap, an actual paper book. With a pencil in her hand, she looked to be drawing.
At the sight of Dasia’s movement, Mable looked up and smiled. “Hey sleeping beauty. Want to train today?”
The memory of it hit her like a train. She was completely nude in someone else’s bed. A girl’s bed. She’d spent the night with someone who wasn’t Cole. Dasia needed to think. “Yeah, let’s go.” She hopped out of bed and went to put on her training clothes. Mable finished her sketches, and in fifteen minutes, the two were outside in a match like every other morning.
With fists wrapped in the strips of fabric, Dasia kept her chest protected as she fired punch after punch. Mable always dodged.
Dasia’s arms were more defined, stronger as they hit. She could see a definite difference in the mirror, but as much as Dasia improved, Mable was better.
She blew at a curl that had escaped from her clip and continued her failed assault.
“Keep your feet moving. Left then right, opposite your punch. Keep your balance.” Mable was never harsh. She never yelled or quit, though Dasia was sure she wasn’t the best student. It had been a long time since she’d gone to school for anything. Three or four years at least.
Dasia missed anth, missed it almost as much as she missed Cole, but the two would always be intertwined for her. Without it, her thoughts were clearer, though some needed a good dusting. And now, her thoughts were more scattered than ever.
“Have you talked to Osip yet?” Mable asked as she swung her head from a blow.
Dasia pulled back and blocked with her forearm. “No, why?”
“Just wondering. Are you going to?”
“I don’t know.” She launched a failed strike.
“Are you freaking out about last night?”
Dasia stopped mid-swing and dropped her hands.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Mable laughed.
“I just—I didn’t mean for that to happen. I don’t know why I went to your room. I didn’t—”
Mable reached out and put a hand to Dasia’s sweat-covered arm. “Are you upset?”