by Celie Wells
“I bet you do,” the young man sneered.
“What's that supposed to mean?” I asked.
“A pretty thing like you must be fun to have in your bed.” I could feel the boys firm hold on my waist tighten as he pulled me tightly to him.
“Hey, Jason! How do I get me one of these pretty, little things?”
Jason was still in earshot talking to Honey. I could tell by the look in his eyes he did not find his friends comment funny.
“First off, you have to be less of an asshole Monty.” Jason removed the boy's arm from my torso, but I caught Monty's drink down my back.
There were a few gasps. I smiled at the boy and patted him on the arm. “I'm sure one of my friends can get you a fresh drink.” I pointed across the room. “See Aqua over there in the black dress. I think she's just your type.”
I stood on my toes and kissed Jason on the cheek. “I'm going to go wipe off this sticky crap. I'll be right back.”
Beryl walked towards the hall bathroom and motioned for me to follow her. Honey dropped a towel on the spill and patted me on the arm as I walked by.
“So, you have them fighting over you now, I see?” Beryl laughed as she peeled the sopping wet sweater off my shoulders.
“No, that guy is just an idiot. Thanks for coming to help me.”
“Not a problem. I had to get out of there. Priscilla and Mother in the same room is not a party.” Beryl rolled her eyes and wiped her fingers across her cheeks.
“I have to ask you something. It's not a normal question?” I blotted the liquid from my dress and took a deep breath.
“Okay, what is it?” Beryl asked as she smashed my sweater between two hand towels.
“How difficult was it the first time you were with a boy?”
“Somewhat tricky, maybe. I don't really recall. What you think everything works like in the movies. Two people fall into bed, and seconds later, they are effortlessly entwined?” Beryl laughed and reapplied her lipstick.
“I don't know. I suppose I did.”
“It takes some work, and friction is not your friend. Are you using condoms?” She asked sternly.
“Yes!” I whined. “We have wasted at least a half-dozen of the stupid things.”
“If you're not pregnant, they weren't wasted. Let me see what I have in my bag.”
“Thanks, I don't know what to do. I've had class after class and all the development workbooks. It isn't supposed to be like this.”
“Mechanical steps are not going to help here. You are obviously upset and that's not helpful. It takes time to find a balance where you can relax.”
“I'm a little—afraid,” I admitted quietly.
“Of what? I almost want to see what that boy is packing.” Beryl snickered.
“You aren't the only one. Maybe it would have been better to stay with the Reds. Jason could have found a more educated girlfriend by now.”
“He could have burnt off most of his skin or died from malnutrition and sepsis. The sky would be black from the burning bodies of his dead, charred enemies.
“Okay, here this little tube of skin protectant is basically water, silicone, and ionized silver. It doesn't smell like anything. It should be fine until one of you can make it to a store.” Beryl handed me the little tube. “I'm glad you choose to come back to us even if you have to marry that ugly, ugly boy.” Beryl smiled and pressed a towel to the back of my dress.
“Thanks for this.” I rubbed a bit of the clear goop on the back of my hand. It seemed perfect. “I know how ridiculous I sound, but nothing’s gone like I planned.” I tucked the tube in my shirt. Beryl nodded in agreement.
“I would be seriously shocked if they did. Stop worrying,” Beryl demanded while applying a thin layer of lip gloss.
“I need to thank Mrs. Eaton for this dress properly. It was so nice of her to think of me.”
“She has done more than think of you. Priscilla has valuable relationships. She was pivotal in getting you home safely.” Beryl was careful and cryptic as she chose her words.
“That is one scary woman you tied yourself to,” I said, straightening my dress and smoothing out my new bangs.
“Yes, but what's done is done. And I would do it again.” Beryl smiled and fluffed out the back of my hair.
“You are hiding something important. I can see it in your face.”
“You can see no such thing,” Beryl spoke in a dry, rehearsed tone. “Maybe you do, but you will have to come to the house before discussing it anymore.” Beryl put her finger to her lips and winked. The conversation was over. “Well then guess where I'm going again tomorrow, “I laughed.
“I don't have to guess what you're doing tonight.” Beryl swatted me on the butt and rushed out the bathroom door laughing.
I stood and looked in the mirror at my shoulder and decided it didn't look that bad. I folded the damp sweater over my arm and decided to walk across the party area to my room and get a dry, button-down shirt from the closet.
Jason was waiting for me outside the bathroom. “Is Aqua giving everyone one of these naked acrobat cards?”
“I sincerely hope not,” I said, turning the card right side up in his hand.
“Huh, that makes a little more sense.” Jason was preoccupied. The sight of half-naked cartoons would bring a smile to the face of even our most serious friends.
We reached the opposite side of the great dining hall and were nearing the quiet hallway outside my 'just for show' bedroom.
“Are you alright?” I asked, opening the door.
“I should be, but I guess I'm not.” Jason sounded surprised by his admission. I couldn't imagine what would have upset him.
“What happened,” I asked, pulling him into the room and shutting the door behind us.
“What gives me the right to take somebody's life?” Jason asked, looking at the floor.
“Where is this coming from?” I asked, searching the closet for a suitable replacement for my wet sweater.
“I was asked to perform a civic obligation today. The courts found a man guilty of treason for consorting with the Reds. He didn't want a trial. He didn't even contest the findings, so they called a citizen. My number was called up to serve. As head of the House of Fuller, I appeared, but I couldn't pull the trigger.
“Everything was ready for me, and I couldn't do it. One of my guards stepped in, took my weapon from my side holster, shot the man in the head, and handed me back the gun. The Court recorded my name as the executioner. I'm off the hook for a few cycles. The man was dead, Kar. Just dropped on the evaporator door like meat.”
“I so sorry, I didn't know you were called in today. This whole party was a stupid idea.”
“No, it's exactly what we need. Something good and happy, but I can't keep from thinking. What is going to happen when everything turns to shit, am I going to freeze. Is some grabby son of a bitch going to take you from me again?”
“No, I don't think you'll freeze. We have to be ready to ride out the event or escape to the Tree and the ships. Half or more of the people in the next room won't be alive in two years.” I said the words quietly, but it didn't make them any less real. Many of the people we know might be gone soon.
“You're right. We have today, and we can plan to survive tomorrow. We need to go back to the party and enjoy the moment,” Jason laughed half-heartedly.
“Even your asshole friend,” I asked, rolling up the sleeves on my replacement shirt.
“Yeah, even Monty.” Jason opened the door and peeked out into the hall. We were alone and could drift back to the dining room unnoticed.
CANDID CONVERSATION
As promised, I went to meet with Mr. Tilley the next afternoon. The Fuller kitchen staff sent me out of the house with two care packages. The smaller delivery box contained several individually wrapped meals and a supply of bakery snacks. The larger box was packaged for the Eaton household. The traditions of proper society that I clung to so tightly just weeks ago, seemed totally ridiculous to
me now.
My grandmother would have known all the expectations for interacting between the original families. The driver always made sure I didn’t open my own car door or carry anything in the house. I assumed this was one of the major rules we followed. I nodded and whispered, thank you to the man as he extended his free hand to guide me out of the car.
The Tilley household looked all but empty when I arrived. One hurried looking woman opened the door as we approached, took the box of food, and thanked us for the kindness. After finding no one else in the entry area, the driver looked in nearby rooms for a chair pulled it close to the study door and sat down. I assumed he was not only tasked with driving me around but ensuring my safety as well.
I patted the tall bear of a man on the shoulder,” Thank you. I can’t imagine this conversation will take long.”
“I will be right here if you need anything, Miss Fuller.” I smiled and nodded appreciatively, straightened my day suit, and cracked my neck before knocking on the study door. Mr. Tilley was in a pleasant enough mood and asked me to recap the speech I gave for the press.
“Oh, I didn’t write it. The legal team did all that,” I explained, looking more closely at the contents of his bookshelves. “Will you be able to preserve all your historical antiques, Mr. Tilley?”
“I’m afraid I may have to donate some of these items to a bigger house to ensure they make it through the event.”
“That must be upsetting. You have some beautiful things on these walls,” I noted, walking around the room slowly.
“Yes well, the situation is as it is and not as I would like it to be,” he quoted, but from where I didn’t recognize. “A friend of mine lives at the end of the west rail line. His estate is quite vast and includes a properly constructed art vault. My wife is there now, settling in. I’ll start sending some of my other antiques there soon.”
I chucked at the remark and sat on a chair in front of his desk. “Why have you asked me here today?”
“Direct, I appreciate that.” Mr. Tilley sat back in his desk chair and looked at me for an awkwardly long time. “I want you to tell the people about your time as a captive at the Red compound. I want you to tell them the whole story about your time there.”
“I see. I won’t do that. Besides, no one would believe me. My public statement was factually accurate. I was taken, and after the bombing near the encampment, I was sent home.”
“Yes, but the facts you presented for the press imply the bombing had something to do with your release. They were sending you home already, Karine.”
“It’s not that simple but that point is one of the many secondary facts my public statement didn’t explain. The legal team also left out how well I was cared for and how our perfect society made the Red population necessary, how those people are nothing like what we have been told, and how they don’t use our city water.” I slid my hands over my nose and rubbed my temples.
“Soon, no one will care about my walk home. The comet will be everything to everyone. There is nothing to be gained by stirring the pot, as my grandmother used to say.”
“Hmm, prudent. I suppose only those with family members taken by the Reds would be helped by the information you can provide.” Mr. Tilley looked at me as if he expected, I would agree with him. My father uses this guilt tactic, and I hate it from him too.
“Such a small few are affected in that way. I can agree to speak with these people privately. To ease their concerns by sharing what I saw firsthand. But I will not subject my family to all the legal crap from a second public statement.”
“That would be a wonderful compromise. I’m certain this information would be of great help to a handful of people in our very township.” Mr. Tilley smiled and sat on the edge of his seat. “You are wise to avoid the ‘legal crap’.” Mr. Tilley laughed and took a short drink from his glass. I couldn’t tell if it was water or spirits in his glass but either seemed appropriate. “Have you seen the new ship parts being assembled in the technology sector, the rail line buildings?”
“No, I didn’t realize we were assembling a new style ship. Don’t you think the Q drive ships the miners use would be a good model to start with?” I asked, peeling the wrapping from a section of modified pear slices.
Mr. Tilly accepted the bundle of fruit and cheese I brought with a hearty smile. It looked to me like he hadn’t eaten recently. “Those ships get us to the asteroid belt in a month with a full load of gear and back to the surface in two loaded down with ice, but no. It is more likely the event will disperse our genetic material across the universe and seed a planet for us before we reach a habitable planet ourselves. Trappist-1 has two possibilities, but it’s 40 lightyears away.”
“So, it takes us 80 years to get there?” I asked, not knowing how long it takes to travel that distance.
“Currently, it takes us 160 years with our best technology at top speed 100% of the time. No machine can operate at that level. My optimistic estimate is 240 years. The spacecraft we have now will become a mass of floating debris in fifty. Every piece will need maintenance and replacement at least five times in my optimistic estimation.
“And the human that steps off that miracle ship will be very different from any human you see walking around today. We are left with the best option, surviving the event and looking for closer celestial groupings to explore.
“Hope is what remains,” Mr. Tilley chuckled, and his eyes glassed over. “We find something previously missed from our limited view here on the planet. Alpha Centauri, perhaps a red dwarf with some time left, could be heating a small world just out of our sight. Better, faster propulsion could develop in the next hundred years, but it won’t be designed on the universe ships.
“They will have the technology we send them with. Only minimal advances will be possible once they are sent out. Imagine everything a population needs for 200 years packed in one massive ship. Reclamation, diagnosis, and repair will be all they have the time and room to worry about. Minor improvements yes, but nothing earth-shattering will happen without a testing ground to blow things up. Most of what we have, technology-wise, was born out of a fiery trial and error system.”
“The Red’s plan to outrun the path of the comet destruction. How realistic is that?” I asked, knowing the outcome of their plan would affect Blue.
Mr. Tilley finished his glass, rose from his chair and walked the edge of the room. He stopped by a beautiful cut glass decanter, filled his cup and leaned on the edge of his desk. “Some theorize the crust around the impact site will shudder as if the ground were in a semi-fluid like state,” he took a long gulp and cleared his throat. “Picture a bowl of gelatin quivering under a greater vibrating force. The ground will re-shape and then settle once the seismic activity stops. I don’t know where you can hide from that kind of change, but I hope my Blue Bell finds a way.”
“So really, what chance do any of us have of surviving this?” I put down my snack and prepared myself for a cut and dry answer.
“Location, distance from the significant impact areas. Luck. Divine interference, maybe. We needed water, and the Kuyper belt has ice comets. We harvested too many of them and disrupted the natural flow of materials. Events a century in the making, flung a massive problem over the galactic back fence and they are going to hit us in the eye with it.”
“Can’t we blow it up or make it smaller somehow?” I asked.
“The computer models are not promising. Anything we try makes the problem worse in different ways. Our mining ships downgraded the problem from a plant killer to a planet modifier.
“We may have some surface water again, but there won’t be anyone left to use it. The Reds do have one advantage. They have faith in each other and their God. Their religion gives them a community wherever they relocate. We have loyalty to our government and the laws of men, our society laws. Once those boarders are erased, buried under a mile of earth, we will be left with the strong and the dead.”
“I don’t know why we bother
then. If it’s just random luck, how can we prepare?” I asked.
“Take my card to the re-education center. Look into the training classes provided there. This new world won’t care what crest your blood can claim. It will care if you are worth feeding. Your skillset during and after the crisis will determine your usefulness.
“The strong will move to the ships, the dead, the dying, and the useless will stay here and face fate head-on. I know I will be one that stays on the planet. My age makes me less than desirable for the ships. My theoretical knowledge won’t help repair machinery or people. I will be of more use here, helping the survivors if I am so lucky.”
“Thank you for this information. I’ll act on it.” I tucked the card into my day suit pocket and patted the outside fabric closed.
“Have Jason go as well, any of your friends that you hope to see on the ship with you should prepare.” I took the final bite of my fruit and smiled.
This was a piece of information that could save my life. I understood what I saw now. The house was being emptied, and he was leaving to join his wife. The explanation of the reality of survival was a parting gift.
“I hope you can appreciate how important a bit of information can be to some people. I may send a few citizens your way in the coming days, people who have concerns about their loved ones who live outside the township.”
“That would be very nice, Mr. Tilley. Jason and I love to entertain.” I gathered my suit and pulled my arms into the sleeves. Mr. Tilley pulled my hair into a bundle out of the way of my shoulder panels.
“You do remind me of your grandmother,” he smiled. His memory of her was wistful. I kissed him on the cheek, and I thanked him for the compliment.
“Choose your path and stick to it. For all your days will be defined by it. Good luck to you, my Dear.”
“Good travels to you, Mr. Tilley,” I replied. I patted my pocket containing his business card and nodded.