by S. L. Baum
I wanted to say, Don’t kiss my hand or stare at my Brand. But instead I did the proper thing and said, “It is so nice to meet all of you. Shall we sit down and share a meal?”
Cimarron led us into the small meeting room, which served as our dining room. A chef delivery service had been appointed to bring in a beautifully plated dinner. Brown rice, chicken, and tender broccoli with a sweet and tangy sauce was served on square white plates, with a black line to trim the edge. The words Concord Reigns were elegantly scrawled in black print in the center of each plate.
Boston watched the server as he placed the plates down in front of us, his eyes never leaving the short grey haired man. As soon as the server left the room his shoulders finally relaxed.
“Is something wrong?” Cimarron asked.
“Nothing at all. I’m quite particular about my food. I was just making sure that his fingers stayed on the black rim of the plates. You never know.”
“Never know?”
“Contaminates,” he quickly replied. “All is well, though. It is so nice to finally meet you in person, Cimarron,” Boston said with a smile. Strangely, it was the same sort of smile I often found on Cimarron’s face. It was probably a standard issue Concord official smile. But while Cimarron’s always seemed genuine, Boston’s looked forced.
“It is, isn’t it? How is your lovely wife?”
“She is in confinement.”
“How much longer until your child is due to arrive?”
“The Doctor tells us she has about two more weeks.”
Cimarron sighed. “Is she in good spirits? Three weeks of bed rest before and three weeks of home rest after. It is such a long time to be kept in one place.”
Boston laughed. “I am keeping my distance. She is quite unhappy with the whole situation. But she knows that it is best for the child and will not argue with the Doctor’s requirements. The shame of leaving the house in the final weeks is not something she would ever want to bring upon herself.”
“I would think not,” Payson said, before taking a bite of his food. “It would be a health risk as well,” he mumbled through a mouthful.
“Indeed,” Alpha Two agreed. “It might produce a weak child.”
Payson nodded his head. “As soon as her Physician prescribes confinement, every mother-to-be should strictly follow orders and protect her child.”
Weaver looked at me. “I believe I read some write-up which explained how your mother decided she was not willing to risk anything, so she entered her confinement quite early.”
My mother? You know about my mother? I stared at Weaver in disbelief.
“Quite so,” Cimarron confirmed. “Aspen decided that if three weeks was good, then three months would be even better. She had her physician conduct home visits during that time.”
You do not mean my mother. You mean Aspen. I took a drink from my glass to steady my voice, worried that it would betray my unease. “Aspen is quite clever that way.”
Cimarron cut her eyes at me.
“My mother is quite clever indeed,” I corrected myself. “Payson, you are in charge of drug development. Do you have anything to help me remember my speeches and memorize my schedule of events? I’m afraid Cimarron is becoming quite cross with me.”
Cimarron put her fork down and nervously glanced around the table. “Not at all. Your Grand Gala was slightly overwhelming for you, especially with all of the preparations for this Lush Ambassador Tour. I understand that you were somewhat overtired. That is all.” Cimarron tried to explain away my words. A forgetful Ambassador was not very impressive. I was expected to be perfectly perfect, after all.
“Mmmmhmmm. Absolutely true about being overtired. A lack of sleep can cause a myriad of problems. The Council recommends a minimum of seven hours and a maximum of nine,” Payson reported. “But, yes. There are drugs to help with memory. I’ll show them to you during your tour of our facilities tomorrow. Certain Memory drugs can be quite helpful for our medical students as well.”
Weaver patted his shirt pocket. “I have some right here. There is a pill for everything, and a pill to undo everything.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“A drug to help you gain weight, and one to help you lose it. Enhanced water to help you sleep, and another one to keep you awake.”
“So if there is something to help me regain my memories…”
“There is something to assist in the forgetting of them as well,” Payson finished for me.
I turned to him. “Why would someone want to lose a memory and forget?”
“It was mainly developed for the loss of a loved one. If a spouse or a parent is having a hard time functioning after a loss, then we help them along with their recovery by fading those memories. It reduces the emotional pain they may be suffering from. A quite useful drug.”
Cimarron looked at me. I knew what she expected, and I delivered. “That makes perfect sense,” I dutifully responded. “Concord is always looking out for its Citizens.”
“It is important that a Citizen not be given too much though. A widower recently consumed his months’ supply in a week’s time. To forget who one is entirely, well, that does not make for a productive Citizen.”
I nodded my head in understanding. “Boston, is there any inside information about me that you would like to deliver to Concord Two? You have private access to me at the moment,” I said with a smile.
Boston shook his head. “That will not be necessary. I have all the information I need. Cimarron has made everything available to me. Your personal files were sent over two weeks ago.”
Alpha Two nodded her head. “Training Tech delivered your files to me as well. What an excellent student you were. Very impressive marks.”
“And I have all your Medical records,” Payson added.
“I guess you all have everything you need to know then.” I forced a smile. “Cimarron has thought of everything.”
“I can’t take credit for that,” Cimarron said. “The Council controls personal records, I merely made a suggestion. Our time together this evening is mainly to give you a familiar face on each day of your tour, Bluebell. These Citizens are the key people we will be working with throughout this week.”
“I see.”
Weaver leaned forward. “Well I don’t know about you. But I am definitely looking forward to this week. I have to say, from a Medical training aspect, you are an interesting subject. I’d love to pick your brain and find out all the things you did and didn’t do, to see what factors played part in making you Lush. Would you allow me to I view it up close? Your Brand?”
I put my left arm on the table, palm up, exposing my Brand.
“Remarkable,” Weaver barely whispered the word as he reached forward. He rubbed his thumb across the black circles, as if he expected them to fade away from his touch. “It’s quite beautiful, remarkable really. Lush with life.” Weaver placed his own arm next to mine, comparing his single Fertile circle to my five Lush ones. “If we could place Fertile parents and their children on a path to achieve this, that would be something…”
“Something, indeed…” I pulled my arm back, away from his invading touch. He had asked to view my Brand, not to trace it. I hadn’t expected him that. Weaver acted in a quite forward manner, with disregard to how I might feel about his intimate nature.
“A female child, descending from your line and mine, would be Lush.”
I stared at him in disbelief. I couldn’t believe what he was suggesting.
Weaver noticed my stare. “I mean, not you and me exactly, but a Lush Citizen and a Fertile Citizen. Scientifically speaking, that should be the outcome” he stumbled on his words.
I laughed softly. “Hypothetically, of course.”
“Of course.”
Chapter Seven
Memory
By the time our guests departed, and Cimarron allowed me to retire for the evening, it was quite late. Before sending me to my room she smiled at me with approval. “Yo
u did well tonight.”
“Thank you. It wasn’t nearly as bad as thought it would be. Just a dinner with new people, that’s all.”
“I knew you’d do fine. We will be visiting the CEC tomorrow. Weaver will be our guide for the day. There have been some minor alterations to our schedule. I’ve sent them over to your tablet. Take a look before you collapse into bed. Although with two naps today, I should think you’ll last a few minutes longer.”
“I will,” I said through a yawn, while rubbing at my eyes with the heels of my hands. They had begun to itch and sting. “And I will collapse. Guaranteed.”
Cimarron laughed softly. “I suppose you do look quite exhausted. Get some sleep. And stop rubbing those eyes… you’ll make yourself all red and puffy. We need our Lush Ambassador in perfect shape.” She smiled at me with a glint of teasing in her eyes.
I pulled my hands away from my face. “I’ll use the White Eyes in the morning. Don’t worry. My eyes will be perfect. Goodnight, Cimarron.”
“Goodnight, Bluebell.”
Cimarron and I went into our separate rooms and I closed the door behind me, thankful for the moment alone. I looked at my tablet and I wished that it could somehow magically be connected to the Concord Archives or Information Systems. I wished I could just type in my mother and father’s names into my tablet and find the answers to all my questions. I wished that I knew my mother’s family number. But simply wishing for something would never make it come true.
After removing my make-up, cleansing and whitening my teeth, brushing through my hair, and changing into one of the nightgowns that had been chosen for me, I climbed into bed, burrowing myself under the soft, billowy covers. I turned on my tablet to find a file from Cimarron blinking at me from the corner of the screen. I read through my schedule and then checked my message folder.
I had missed a request from Thorn to video chat, but there was a message from him waiting for me.
Sorry I missed you, Blue. Sleep well.
I’ll try you again tomorrow night.
I’m working on a new story, and I think you’ll like it.
I’ll send it to you as soon as it’s finished, if I can.
They might change me to News and General Information, though.
I miss you already.
Thorn
P.S. Remember
I closed my eyes and brought his image to my mind. It had only been twenty-four hours since I’d been near him, but it felt like longer. I brought my hand up to my face and remembered the feeling of his breath against my cheek as he whispered in my ear. I touched my lips with the tips of my fingers and felt the kiss he had placed there the night before. I missed him already, too.
“Get up, Bluebell.”
My eyes flew open as I heard the soft knocking on the bedroom door.
“Bluebell, are you awake?”
“Yes,” I call out through the closed door. “But just barely,” I mumbled.
“You need to start getting yourself ready. We have two hours. Take a long, warm shower. That will get your blood flowing,” Cimarron suggested.
I nodded my head, which, given that Cimarron wasn’t able to see through solid objects, wasn’t a very useful gesture. My eyes closed again.
“Bluebell? Do I need to come in there?” she asked, forcefully rapping at the door.
I sat up in the bed. “I’m awake. I’m awake,” I said quite loudly, and then forced myself to stand up. I stretched my arms overhead with a yawn. “I’ll get in the shower, right now.”
“Good. I’ll do the same… in my own room.”
I went over to the door, opened it a crack, and peeked my head out to find Cimarron walking toward her room. “Good. Because taking a shower with you would be quite awkward.”
Cimarron turned her head and looked back at me. “Bluebell!”
I smiled widely at her and then closed the door.
The warm shower was exactly what I needed. I let the water flow over my body, as I imagined what the day would bring. Before we went to bed, Cimarron told me that a video team would be following us. After the day was over, a quick broadcast would interrupt all activities to inform all Citizens that there would be an extended viewing on another channel for those who wished to tune in. The viewing audience was expected to be quite large.
The same thing would happen every day during my tour of each Concord. My day’s activities would be videoed and edited down to be broadcast to all Citizens. Thankfully, the elaborate private dinners were an exception, there would be no video team invited that night. Those mini-galas would happen at the end of each week, on a Saturday evening, the day before I left to travel to the next Concord. My day of travel would not be broadcast either. That meant I had two days a week, during the next three weeks, that I would be free of video cameras. On those two days, exclusive photos would be released instead. Cimarron said that the Citizens would be looking forward to a daily dose of their beloved Lush girl.
The video team consisted of a man with a camera, and a woman holding an external microphone. They showed up as soon as we went down to the lobby of Guest Accommodations that morning. Gill was just outside, waiting beside the vehicle with the door open, ready to chauffeur us to the CEC. The two-person video team escorted us outside.
“Cimarron, Bluebell, it looks like the start of a perfect day,” Gill said as we got into the vehicle. “You’ll have to resume the video footage when we arrive at the Career Education Center. No unauthorized Citizens are allowed in an official vehicle,” he told the video team before closing the door.
I wrung my hands together. “This doesn’t make you nervous?” I asked Cimarron. “I guess it wouldn’t for you. But for me, this is the first full day of being completely thrust into the Lush Ambassador role. Before today, it had only been for a few hours at most. I’m not sure how I’ll do.”
She smiled at me and shook her perfectly styled blonde head. She had allowed her short hair to grow a bit longer and the sides were pulled back in a very flattering style. “It is something new for me, but, no, I am not nervous. What is best for Concord is best for me.”
“As it is for me, as well.” I agreed.
“That is one of your best qualities, Bluebell, your quick adaptation and willingness to please.”
“Thank you.”
“The CEC is not too far from here,” Gill said from the front seat. “We will be there shortly. Did you sleep well?”
“I did. The bed was quite comfortable,” I answered.
“Guest Accommodations are always of superior quality. I’ve been a guest in all four.”
“All four? Even in your home Concord? Oh, I never asked which Concord you reside in.”
“I began my life in Three. My home is about an hour from the checkpoint though, so when I am on call, and needed at a moment’s notice, it is more efficient if I am close at hand. So, yes, I have been a temporary resident of all four Guest Accommodations.”
My eyes widened. “You are from Three?”
“Yes,” Gill answered.
“How long ago did you exit Training Tech?”
“Bluebell, it is not polite to inquire about such things and force people to reveal their age. If you were to pose that question in a public place, it would be quite unpleasant for the recipient. Please remember that,” Cimarron gently scolded.
Gill laughed. “I don’t mind. It was around twenty years ago. There. My vague answer slightly protects my age.”
Cimarron laughed. “You didn’t protect it all that well.”
I could only see the back of Gill’s head, but his eyes were visible in the rear view mirror as he chauffeured us to our destination. He glanced up into the mirror and locked his eyes with mine, and then he winked at me before his eyes returned to the road ahead. “Wasn’t intending to.”
Cimarron shook her head. “Now, Bluebell, today will consist of a tour of the Career Education Center, lunch with some of the top students, and then a question and answer session with a group of thirty students wh
o were specifically rewarded with the privilege. At all times, please remember that the video team will be actively recording every moment. Any mistakes made could be edited into the broadcast, although I doubt that the video approval team would release anything that cast you in an unflattering light.”
“The schedule also notes dinner and a comedy review?”
“Yes. Dinner will be private, just you and I back at Guest Accommodations. The comedy will take place back at the CEC, a viewing of one of the students’ videos, which you will then review and post a write up on your public journal.”
“My public journal?” I almost yelled the question at Cimarron.
Cimarron placed her hand on my shoulder. “Yes. The Mandate was sent to me this morning. The Council has decided that in addition to the daily videos of your activity, you should maintain a public journal as well. It is to be in written form, not video, seeing as the public will have ample access to that. Just a few paragraphs a day. You’ll send it over to my tablet, and then I will edit and upload to the distribution hub.”
“What am I supposed to write about?”
“The day’s activities in brief overview, your thoughts or feelings about being Lush Ambassador, as long as they are presented in a positive light, and any words of encouragement to Concord’s youth,” Cimarron explained.
“Do you think anyone is all that interested in what I have to say?”
“I think everyone is dying to hear what you have to say. They all want to see what you do, where you go, what you wear. The Citizens are quite excited to know all about their Lush Ambassador.”
I shook my head, and then rolled my eyes at the thought. “Nobody was fawning over me back at home.”
“Which is understandable. Your friends and fellow students knew you before you were given your Citizen Brand. To them, you will always be Bluebell. We shielded you from most of the public reaction. You needed time to grow into your role. You have no idea how exciting your Lush Brand is, and the kind of hope it brings to the youth, and to the young couples that are just starting to produce future Citizens for Concord.”
