Lush Trilogy

by S. L. Baum

  Chapter Six

  It’s a LUSH Life

  When I was at Training Tech, we were put on a bus every six months and taken to the beach cottages. It was an exciting two-night stay, free from structure; it was the only time that we were allowed to run free. Well, as free as anyone can be. The property was gated off, even into the water, with nets that went down into the wet sand below and were propped up at least three feet above the surface as well. There was no chance of us wandering off the property or of somebody else wandering in. They’d bring us girls, two groups at a time, starting with Year Two and Three. The trips ended in Year Eleven, right before I was placed in the Transition Hall. Those stays were the highlight of every year.

  Families were granted longer stays at the cottages. They were able to stay for a full week, but were restricted to one trip per year, and that was only if they could afford the fees. Many chose not to go, considering it to be strictly a childhood experience. I once heard that certain Council members owned private beach cottages, but that could just have been a rumor. I didn’t think my father had one. While the beach cottages were used for vacation stays within your own Concord, Guest Accommodations were only available for Citizens to use during necessary times and when granted permission to travel.

  The Guest Accommodations for Concord Two were housed in a lovely, three level, grey and white building. There was a vibrant, colorful garden, bursting with bright flowers, which bloomed on all four sides of the structure. Cimarron had shown me the layout of the building the week before. On the ground level were eight basic rooms – two beds and adequate space for clothes. On the second level were four deluxe rooms – two room units with a bedroom and a sitting room. The upper lever housed the grand suites, of which there were only two. Cimarron and I were housed in one of the grand suites, while Gill was given accommodations on the ground level.

  The suites were quite large, and had several rooms. There were two bedrooms, a large sitting room with a huge wall-screen, a smaller meeting room, and a service kitchen. The kitchen would adequately store prepared meals; it had a quick oven to warm up the food and a fully stocked beverage station. I glanced at the bottles of Sleep, Vitamin, Energy, Awake, and the everyday Enhanced water. There were juices and teas, and anything else I could want, ready and waiting for me. I opened a drawer in the kitchen that had Medicinal Aides engraved on the front of it. Inside were bottles of Pain Relief, Fat Blocker, Food Digester, Anti Fatigue, Allergen Blocker, and many more. There was even a small injury kit with Insta-coagulator powder, Sanitizer, and white gauze. The label on the front of the kit informed the user that once the seal was broken, medical personnel would be dispatched to determine the severity of the injury.

  I exited the little kitchen and entered the sitting room, which was the central hub of the suite; all of the other rooms’ doors opened into the sitting room. Cimarron came strolling in from the direction of the front entrance. “We are completely checked in for our seven night stay, and I’ve notified The Council that we have arrived safely,” she said.

  “Oh! My father asked me to message him.”

  “He has been informed, all is well.”

  I felt a little pang of guilt for the relief I felt knowing that I wouldn’t have to contact him myself. I didn’t want to think about him, so I motioned to the room. “This suite is amazing.”

  “Nothing but the best for the Lush Ambassador.”

  “Is anyone else staying here right now?” I wondered aloud.

  “I was informed there is a young family on the second level, staying here until the front room of their home is restored. An out of control delivery truck veered off the main road and crashed into it. The driver was killed instantly.”

  “That’s terrible. One of those rare accidents, I guess.”

  “Yes, it is. There is also another chauffeur in a room on the ground level waiting to transport one of the graduating Doctors to a new post in Four. They will be leaving in the morning.”

  “Do you think Guest Accommodations is ever full, with every room occupied?”

  “I suppose it does happen on certain occasions. Large meetings of The Council… or Medical personnel, since this is where the Medical Training and Drug Development takes place. It is not quite as large as the accommodations in One. Being the site of the founding Government, and all main Council activity, One requires even more temporary housing for approved visitors.”

  I tapped at my cheek. “And Three and Four?”

  “They have slightly smaller, but identical buildings, constructed with six basic, three deluxe, and one suite.”

  “I guess that means they have fewer visitors.”

  “Precisely. Well, I need to unpack my things. Why don’t we retire to our rooms for a little while? I’ll message you when dinner arrives. We will have a few guests for dinner this evening.”

  “Oh? Who?” I couldn’t keep the disappointment from my face. I was hoping that I could unpack, unwind, and hide away in my bedroom.

  “Bluebell, you really need to read your schedule on a regular basis.”

  I shrugged my shoulders and grimaced. “I will. From this moment on, I promise.”

  “This information was sent to you already. Our guests will be here in about an hour,” she stated but didn’t answer my question about who they were. I guessed it was my clue to check my schedule. “Be sure to change out of your travel clothes. I believe the outfits in your closet are labeled.”

  “The outfits in my closet?”

  Cimarron shook her head at me. I could tell she thought that this was also information I should already be aware of. “Your travel wardrobe was shipped ahead, unpacked, and steamed just before our arrival. Go check it all out.”

  I left her and did just that.

  Inside the bedroom was a large walk-in closet, where my entire wardrobe for the week was arranged for me. Each outfit had a coordinating pair of shoes. There were drawers filled with under clothing, nightclothes, stockings, hair adornments, and jewelry. But I noticed the absence of any wrist coverings. My Citizen Brand was expected to be on display at all times.

  I looked down at my wrist and stared at the five circles that overlapped and intertwined to form the flower-like Brand. It wasn’t unique, I remembered. It had previously been stamped into the flesh of another young woman. My mother. I had forced myself not to think about her all that day. I knew that duty required this tour of the whole of Concord, and I’d passed the day away by sleeping and reviewing some of the many obligations that would be coming my way. It was easier done without the thought of my real mother, front and center in my mind.

  But after being alone for just a few minutes, the thought of her demanded attention. I paced the room, trying to recall the details I was aware of. I knew so little about her. Her name was Hope. She had transferred to One from Three, in a desperate attempt to get away from bitter parents and under the misguided notion that The Council would pick the best match possible for her. I paused at that thought.

  How could the thought even cross my mind that relying on The Council to do what is best was a misguided notion? How could I question The Council? I blew out a huge breath. I found myself questioning Concord more often than I ever had before. It felt wrong to second-guess the rules and guidelines set forth for the Citizens; but yet, there I was, with questions in my head that wouldn’t be ignored. It scared me. What would happen to me if someone discovered that I questioned The Council?

  I sat down on the bed and put my hands over my head, rocking back and forth. “Snap out of it, Blue,” I whispered to myself. “Your head is not transparent. Nobody can see inside.”

  I smiled as I thought of Thorn’s words and forced myself to calm down. I took my hands away from my head, and stood back up. I desperately wanted more information. Where were the records kept? In what file? And who had access to that kind information? I was determined to find out. My secret tablet seemed like a good place to start, and I had an hour before I was required to put on my Lush Ambassador fac
e… and wear it well.

  The small bag, in which I’d packed my four tablets, was resting on a chair next to the bed, thankfully they were all light weight and super thin. The mini tablet, which would fit into a clutch, was expected to go with me to dinners, and events where a larger tablet would look out of place. The larger one was my first personal tablet, the one my father had sent to me right after I was released from Training Tech. It was my educational tool, my entertainment, my calendar, my alarm clock, and my access to information... but only information that I had been given clearance to access. The Ambassador one was tablet number three and had been given to me by Cimarron, all official documents and information were sent to that tablet. Also in the bag, hidden at the bottom, was the secret tablet. The one that had mysteriously arrived at my home, the one that had files on it which would only unlock with the scan of my finger, and the one that caused me to question everything I knew to be true about Concord.

  I took the unauthorized tablet out of the bag and set it on the bed before I went into my closet to change for dinner. If Cimarron came in and discovered that I had not prepared myself for the evening, she would be disappointed in me. Even though I was beginning to question things, I still hated to disappoint anyone. After discarding my travel clothes in the hamper, I pulled the casual, but stylish dress off the hanger labeled – Day One: Informal Dinner – and slid it over my head. The shoes were comfortable slip-ins, and the jewelry was a simple gold chain with matching earrings. I looked into the mirror, freshened my make-up and straightened my hair. When I was sure that my appearance was acceptable, I returned to the tablet.

  Holding my finger in the middle of the tablet, I toggled the power switch with my free hand. The tablet came to life and scanned my print. It flashed black for just a second, and then the remaining files appeared. I pulled my finger back and let it hover over the word Third for a moment, before pressing down on the screen.

  Let’s get to the subject of our perfect Concord life. We do not have any major illnesses, we have no serious diseases, we look absolutely amazing for our ages (if we decide to overload our system with youth serums and have various other procedures done), and Citizens live a comfortable life until we expire at a grand old age. Or do we? If we believe what we are told, the advances in our medical practices are quite astonishing. Concord’s doctors and medical researchers have brought about advances that were once thought impossible.

  It boggles the mind that while Medical is constantly working to make our bodies safe from all illness, and The Council is constantly imposing safety standards to keep its Citizens safe from harm, every Concord family has a tragic story of loss to tell (if they haven’t chosen to wipe away the memories). Those “safety standards” seem to be quite poorly managed.

  Certainly, you have taken note of the multiple sensors located throughout each and every Concord residence, building, and vehicle. And you are aware that a bathtub sensor will sound an alarm when there is any form of struggle, sudden splashing and jarring movement, or too much water displacement from over filling the tub. If the button on the side of the tub is not pushed, indicating that everything is fine, help is dispatched to the home. When they were initially developed, the prototype sensors helped to curb bathtub deaths that had been occurring in the very young, and in aging Citizens. Because of this, they became standard issue many years ago, along with a slew of other sensors.

  There are sensors so small and effective that Medical personnel will arrive within minutes of a personal injury kit being opened. But somehow, one evening several years ago, help was unable to arrive at the home of a certain Councilman after a bathtub sensor recorded a fall. That night a drowning occurred. A tragic accident, or not…

  No one dies from sickness, but anyone can die from an accident. And once a person is gone, and a life is over, that person is replaced. Parents are given immediate permission to have another child, if they are young enough. A wife or husband will be pressured to marry again, and while most listen, those who do not risk losing social status. That is the Concordian way.

  Think about this, Bluebell. Let your mind form questions and seek answers. Ask yourself, “Is Concord really doing what is best for me, or what is best for Concord?”

  The screen flashed, the file disappeared, and then the tablet shut itself down. I stared at the blank screen and tried to make sense of it all. What was it supposed to mean? What was I supposed to ask? What sort of answers would I be searching for?

  Why me? Why was all of this being put upon me? Why did I have to be the Lush girl? Why was it my responsibility to figure out any of it? There were too many whats and whys swirling about my head, too many questions that seemed impossible to answer.

  The bathtub… a certain Councilman’s home… those words came back to me. Aspen. She’d recently told me that her mother drowned after hitting her head. Was Aspen or my grandfather responsible for that? It was too terrible to think about, so I pushed the thought out of my mind. It must have been a faulty sensor. I hoped it was a faulty sensor. Could there even be a faulty sensor?

  I grabbed the bag that held my tablets and emptied it. The secret tablet needed a better hiding place than simply sitting at the bottom of my bag. The more files I read on it, the more dangerous it seemed. I felt along the bottom of the bag, trying to find the small hole in the lining that I’d noticed the week before. My finger snagged in it and I pulled, widening the weakened seam and creating an opening big enough to slide the tablet into. I opened the larger bag that I’d brought with me and took out the little sewing kit that was given to me for quick fixes of my wardrobe. Inside the kit was a package of seam tape, to temporarily repair an unraveled hem. I cut off two pieces and affixed them to the bottom of the bag, sealing in the unauthorized tablet.

  As I was repacking the sewing kit, there was a knock at my door.

  “Our guest will be here momentarily, Bluebell. It would be best if you were beside me to greet them as they entered.”

  “I’ll be right out. Just fixing my hair,” I called back to Cimarron.

  “Alright. Two minutes please. No more.”

  “Absolutely,” I agreed as I ran over to the wall mirror at the entrance to the bathroom.

  I smoothed my skirt, fluffed up my hair, and applied a coat of the clear gloss, which I found in my new make-up bag, to my lips. My upper lip immediately started to tingle, and then my lower one followed suit. I stared at my mouth in the mirror and watched as my lips turned a brighter shade of their natural pink and then began to very slightly swell. I twisted the gloss wand in my hand and looked at the label.

  Perfect Pout: for plump, perfect, kissable lips. It was written in quite small print, underneath the CLEAR GLOSS that was in big bold letters. “Blue, you really need to start reading labels,” I told myself as I threw the gloss back into the make-up bag, before grabbing my mini tablet and exiting the bedroom.

  Cimarron had changed into a dark purple suit with severe, square shoulders and a row of shiny black buttons down the front of the jacket. The skirt was slim and short, stopping above the knee, and her black shoes were quite high with long pointed toes.

  “You look very in charge tonight,” I noted.

  She stood up a little taller. “That is precisely the look I was going for. The Citizen’s Information Specialist for Two will be here this evening. He is one rank below me, and he needs to be reminded of that from time to time, especially when we are in a group video conference. This will be our first physical meeting.”

  “You are the Lead for all four?”

  “I am.”

  “You must be proud.”

  “I do my duty for Concord,” Cimarron answered.

  I scrolled through my mini to find and examine the briefing for our dinner. “So, Information guy, Medical CEC guy, Drug guy, and Training Tech girl.” I rattled off the list of attendees.

  Cimarron nodded. “Precisely.”

  I looked at her and smiled. “We’ll dazzle them all.”

  “That is th
e precise attitude needed.”

  The chime at the door rang and Cimarron’s face lit up, she put on a confident smile as she stepped forward to welcome the dinner guests.

  The group had arrived together, and after they all stepped into the suite, Cimarron addressed them. “Thank you for joining us this evening. I am Cimarron, as you know through our various video chats to prepare for this visit, and this is Bluebell. I know you have all seen our Lush Ambassador during the mandatory introductory video broadcast.”

  The group of visitors nodded their heads and murmured “hellos” before she continued.

  “Bluebell, may I introduce Boston, Informational Specialist for Two.” She gestured toward a man with too tight skin and too blonde hair. “And Alpha Two, the director of the Training Tech here.” Alpha Two was the exact opposite of my Alpha. This one was all porcelain and shiny with smooth red hair and a marriage ring on her finger. “Then we have Payson, one of Concord’s leading drug developers. His clever mind is always working on new medicines and a more efficient method of delivery for all our Citizens’ needs.” Payson was a handsome man, with welcoming laugh lines and crinkles around his eyes. I could tell that he thoroughly enjoyed his position. “And lastly, Weaver, the top performing Medical student at the CEC. He is in his last months of training and I am told he has a very promising career ahead of him.”

  Weaver was only a few years older than I was. He was quite tall with a slim build and sandy blonde hair, which he pushed from his eyes every so often. “It’s nice to meet you, Ambassador.” He winked and extended his hand.

  “Bluebell is fine. There is no need for the Ambassador title,” I insisted, placing my right hand in his.

  Instead of a formal shake, Weaver surprised me by bringing my hand up to his mouth and placing a kiss on the back of it. His eyes glanced down at my other arm, sneaking a peek at my Citizen Brand. I quickly withdrew my hand, placing it behind my back, embarrassed by the intimate gesture. I clasped both hands behind me and rocked back on my heels with a nervous smile on my face.