The Assumption Code

by Melodee Elliott

  The doors opened. No one. Margi sighed in relief. She tiptoed to her room. Still no one. She discarded her clothes and took a shower. The bubbles washed away the confusion of the day. But when she closed her eyes, she felt Tolman’s hands upon her shoulders. Nothing could wash that away. She even sensed the scent of him. He had so many questions for her. She had them as well but sadly only voiced those that Rivner would have no need to ask.

  She withdrew herself from the bubbles and clothed herself. She rinsed her dress and shoes of most of their grime, then styled her hair and donned full makeup. She emerged from her room and heard noises in the kitchen as she neared.

  The sapphire sky was turning cobalt and a sister moon edged low on the horizon. The light from the kitchen was stark in comparison. She entered the space.

  Stavon held a knife in his hand. A vegetable rested on a countertop. He smiled at her. She smiled back, too unnerved to do anything but.

  “I hope you’re hungry,” he said with what was almost a smile.

  “Ravenous,” she replied.

  He laid the knife down and went to her and kissed her. She played along as she had much to hide.

  He poured a drink for her. She sipped and was thankful it wasn’t pink and sweet but was refreshing with the taste of bitter herbs.

  “I almost forgot,” he said and reached into his pocket to place a new communicator in her hand. He said nothing else. No excuses. No reasons why. That scared her.

  “Thank you, I suppose I lost mine,” she said and walked to the other side of the room.

  “Red.”

  Margi looked at him, questioningly.

  “The light. You’re back.”

  Margi realized she was washed in a soft red glow from the lamp that calibrated to her energy. “Yes.” Her voice was dismissive as she wandered from it.

  “Come join me.” He held up a vegetable for her to prepare.

  She felt the weight lift from her conscience and joined him in preparing their meal. Stavon looked like a recent college graduate, which made her feel those long ago, carefree days. She remembered the checklist of her youth she had made for the man of her dreams. He met all of them, and she would be dizzy with infatuation had she been that person in the here and now. She was beyond hoping for such things, too weary even for a simple checklist to do her thinking.

  The sky had turned cobalt blue by the time they took their meals to the balcony. An energy field lined the balcony’s perimeter as a barrier to the vastness of space with the sister moons standing guard next to the blur of Meno. The oil slick swirl of color swam across the face of the barrier casting against the horizon, with a transparency that suited the view.

  A breeze fell upon her face and carried away her senses with the faint scent of stars. They seemed that way. She pretended to be in the carefree moment, savored it as she would the last morsel of the meal she and Stavon had prepared. She didn’t remember ever being pursued in this way. This was the magic of him. It was the life Rivner had enjoyed, to possibly take in the scent of stars and enjoy such different sensations than those had by the souls at street level. She understood Rivner and her Stavon. This role in life, she knew.

  She ate and restrained her body’s desire to gorge. She looked out to the heavens and saw the sister moon silhouette the other, and stopped to take in the sight.

  “Beautiful,” Stavon said.

  “Yes. Very.” She could never have dreamed of such a sight. It mesmerized her with the ritual way of nature, the seemingly cordial forces that intertwined the mystical dance of the moons with the planet Danu and offered themselves to anyone who could behold. And she did.

  Stavon approached her and slid his fingers down her arm to take her by the hand. He led her to the edge of the balcony along the barrier. He caressed her jawline and parted her mouth with his finger. Her firm lip sprang back into place. She closed her eyes and imagined he was Tolman.

  Stavon’s presence pierced any resistance she had to him. He demanded her acknowledgment as if he knew her mind had wandered.

  “Come to me,” he said as he lowered his face to hers and lingered there. She suspected this young man was an ages-old being with lust in his heart for all things, one that knew success was his strength. This was probably the closest he’d come to a question; he didn’t seem to have any use for them. Yet it was more of an invitation than a command. A kindness he reserved for only his wife, maybe. This man was about action.

  “Come to me,” he whispered again.

  She opened her eyes and gazed into his. What did he know of her day? She wouldn’t dare lose the communicator again. Rivner would always belong to him. Margi was not his. The more she resisted him, the more she longed for the nearness of a mere stranger—Tolman. She closed her eyes and moaned accidentally.

  Stavon pressed his body next to hers and consumed the air around her. She felt her body collapse against his and his strength build within him. He tremored once until his energy channeled into a force that overtook her senses. He braced her body against the transparent barrier and pressed against her. She gasped for air and pressed back. She felt his fingers grip her undergarments and free only one leg to rid herself of the fabric. Immediately, she felt his hand coursing over her, working her body against her own frail will.

  He kissed down her neck as he gripped her breast, using his tongue. He gazed into her eyes for one moment and captured her mouth in his, pressing her back over the barrier.

  She could feel his hardness as he nestled onto her, a predator taunting his prey until the moment of decision. He parted her legs and entered her, thrusting into her again and again as she gradually lifted atop the boundary to the beyond.

  He stopped momentarily, bending over her to suspend her arms over the ledge. He pulsed rhythmically as he arched her over the side and continued to pump. She let herself fall backward, extending her arms to the cobalt sky with its scent of stars, and felt as if her fingers touched the moon. Her body seized. Stavon’s body bucked against hers as he pressed her atop the barrier. Margi looked behind her and out upon the heavens and the holograms she glimpsed below her. Her body untethered as did her soul, and she felt beauty she thought she’d never behold.

  Stavon slid her from the barrier, and they collapsed upon the floor. The cooling dampness of his body lay atop hers. He kissed her with a gentleness she had not considered him capable of. She responded with softness.

  They lay entwined as two lovers, husband and wife, upon the balcony. She had come to know Stavon in this way as she gazed over the balcony’s edge as if it were an infinity pool. Soon, she felt his hardness grow again. She parted her legs for him, this time submitting herself to the slow torture of union that transformed mere minutes into hours. He dismantled what little wherewithal she had left—she was Stavon’s, just as Rivner had become.

  At some unknown hour, he laid her upon the bed where she drifted asleep.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The low hum of traffic drew Margi’s attention to the street below. One angry honk awoke her. She opened her eyes and looked across her bed. No Stavon. And no Ferli at the end. Then she took in the room and realized that she was in her bedroom on Earth. She sat upright. The emanator sat restfully, innocently, on the nightstand.

  Light filtered through the drapes. The clock read eight a.m. No alarm. Thankfully, it was Saturday. She fell back against the mattress and collected her memories.

  Some of her thoughts appeared to contradict one another. She pieced together the events of the previous day that had begun with living Rivner’s seeming routine and ended as anything but. The recollection of her evening with Stavon held her mind. She felt his hands on her body as though her body on Earth remembered the experience. Nonsense. She alone succumbed to him and brought the feelings back with her. She did not regret it.

  She yawned and stretched like a child who could stay in bed for just a while longer. Not a care in the world.

  If only she could thank Dr. Howard now, she would. She was on the verge of getti
ng the story of her lifetime. An exposé that mankind couldn’t fathom. Being Rivner was becoming comfortable. Yes, comfortable was the right word. Margi could now identify with the woman and the life she had crafted for herself with Stavon.

  And what were the odds—she laughed—that being a spokeswoman was Rivner’s profession. Too easy. It was like reporting from the frontline of a major world event without being in a hurricane or a war’s trenches.

  She bounded out of bed and readied herself for a morning in the park. The doorman opened the door for her as she stepped to the sidewalk. She reached Central Park a short distance away and stopped to stretch her legs.

  She began her run and sensed she would make good time as she marked off her usual goal posts: a fork in the trail, rounding the pond, and the bench by the playground. One little girl reminded her of the one in line to Meno—the one crying as the man held her. Margi felt the guilt of making her cry though still didn’t know what she’d done. Even Ferli had reprimanded her.

  She then spied an old man feeding the ducks. He was well-dressed, which made her wonder if he would go to Meno if given the opportunity to gain understanding of another and return as a younger version of oneself. Kind of like she was doing with Rivner though she was remaining the same age. She wondered where Rivner actually was, if not on Danu. She brushed off the thought since she had no control of the events anyway.

  She continued her course around the lake and saw trash in her way. She jumped over it as she had done with the holograms. Her pace slowed as she remembered the gaudiness of the images. She could speak to Stavon about such things. He would listen to her. She felt her pace quicken.

  Then she noticed a homeless woman standing over a garbage can. Her men’s garments hung off of her shoulders as she picked through the rubbish. Danu had no homeless people that she’d seen. It could be that everyone had a job on Danu even if it meant participating on Meno. Stavon was a great man for this. She hoped that she could help bring his goals to fruition.

  Something in her sank, making her walk it out. She felt the heaviness of contradiction when her thoughts went to Tolman. He was a man fighting for something, too. Yet he talked in riddles though he showed her the realities of society that remained even after all the good Stavon had done. There was more to this story. The exposé had yet to disclose itself.

  She continued to walk out her thoughts. Tolman had the artist’s mind-set, yet so did Stavon with his business. Both had ideas they offered to civilization.

  Margi recalled the child’s shrill giggle as the sea creature swooped to her side. That was a gift of happiness. She took in Tolman’s presence, however many light years away. She felt a pang of guilt as if she were committing adultery against Stavon. Drama queen, she told herself. She wasn’t even married.

  She made her way back to her apartment and soon set out again. A cab awaited her outside and dropped her off at Fifth Avenue for some shopping.

  She was combing through a clothes rack when her phone rang. She recognized the number.

  “Hello. Margi here,” she said.

  “Jules, dear. I have some bad news.”

  Margi plugged her other ear to block random noise. “I’m listening.”

  “You wanted to speak to the woman who told me about Dr. Howard.”

  “Yes.” Margi was already reaching inside her purse for a notepad.

  “Well, I found her. She died. So sad…”

  She heard the words spill from the woman’s mouth as if they were from yesterday’s gossip column. “What happened?” she interrupted.

  Jules stopped midsentence. “They didn’t rightly say. She just died in her sleep two days ago. So strange.”

  A rush of emotion flooded Margi’s mind. “Who did you speak to? What’s their phone number? Did they also go to Dr. Howard?”

  Jules tried to answer each demand in turn, her feeble, dilettante mind unable to keep pace with such an inquisition.

  Margi was never so unnerved by so many words that had so little meaning. “Jules. Jules.” She tried to break the daisy chain of thoughts coming over the phone line.

  The voice finally stopped.

  “Thank you again for your help. I need to find Dr. Howard. So, if you have any information, contact me.” Margi masked her weariness with gratitude.

  “You’re welcome, dear. They’ll have the funeral later this week. I’ll let you know the details, and we can have a social afterward.”

  “That is a grand idea,” Margi added, on the verge of tears. “Call me. Good day, Jules.” She didn’t wait for her to respond. She picked up her shopping bags with shaky hands and walked home.

  She didn’t mind that her muscles started to ache with the strain of weight. The preoccupation only made her concentrate harder, a slight suffering that had become familiar fare of late.

  The doorman opened the way for her inside the building. She entered her apartment and let the bags drop to the floor with a thud, and continued walking without breaking her stride.

  The cool evening was just beginning to relinquish its hold on the day. She longed for the cobalt sky. She was too close to the city lights for such beauty and wondered how high she would need to go to escape the cacophony of civilization. To the stars themselves, she wondered and maybe would this very night if all went sour, if her body died on Earth.

  What would happen to her if it did? She had obviously left her body on Earth when she went to Danu. If she died, would she go where Rivner had gone when she had taken over the woman’s body? Somewhere in space or nowhere? Is that what happened to Dr. Howard’s other client? She couldn’t even reach out to Stavon for help. He would know what to do, but she would be risking her life in another way by telling him of her real identity. Was there ever a time he wasn’t in control, she wondered, and relished the idea that such confidence could be manifested in life. She didn’t have her own. The man that put the nanobots under her skin was nowhere.

  She had to accept her destiny and the circumstances she had been given. At no time in her life had she felt that the stakes were so high. No way to rid herself of the nanobots. She was on her own to accept or deny the inevitable.

  Margi entered her study and pulled out blank sheets of paper from the printer. She began writing, as lending her voice was the only resource she had known. Another woman had died without a voice, but that was not Margi. No. She began to write.

  I, Margi Hall, write to you for I feel my days may come to an end. As life ultimately offers us this passage to the unknown, I leave you my final thoughts before I rise to my next adventure.

  She reflected for a moment. The touch of ink to paper poured out more thoughts. The rhythmic motions of her pen waltzed across the page.

  Final thoughts to those who knew me over the years are that I have learned much from you as I told your stories to the camera. News gives us a narrative of life that is out of the ordinary. It is extraordinary. An audience lies beyond what we may see. Someone, somewhere, has heard, has seen what you have to say. I hope that I may have given you the voice you so richly deserve. Your life is extraordinary.

  Margi studied the pages of handwritten text like an artisan’s painting. She had long forgotten the looks of words on a page, accustomed as she was to fonts on a monitor or teleprompter. The words would live beyond her, bearing a legacy of her works.

  She warmed a dinner and placed it on a plate, then stood at the counter, too restless to sit. Nightfall had come. Light cast upward from street level and faded into the blackness of sky above, shielding the stars. She stood in silence, ate her meal, and reflected.

  She cleaned the apartment and put away her new clothes. She hoped her wardrobe would be donated if her death were to come that very night. She organized her closet with pairings of clothes that would make the task of sorting easier for strangers who would inherit the task.

  She sat on the side of her bed with her benediction in hand, reading it one last time. Then, she set it upon her nightstand and took hold of the emanator.

&
nbsp; Desperation came over her. What was the code he had entered and sealed shut so permanently? What would happen if she were to change it? What if she didn’t turn on the emanator at all that night? Had the other woman done that? Had she encountered that woman on Danu without even knowing it? The woman had paid good money for a cosmetic procedure and may have had her life snuffed out the moment she commanded her situation.

  Would she be tempted to do the same? Or did she have a prescribed number of days until she died because of the nanobots or during her unconscious transfer to Rivner’s body? She needed Stavon more than ever. No questions from him—only answers. She felt the loss of desire for her exposé, now replaced with the sheer will to survive the next night’s sleep.

  Margi set the emanator down and gently pressed the button. She could do nothing but stay the course and get her exposé if possible. She lay on the mattress and waited. The soft blue light grew and with it the terror she felt. She couldn’t sleep. The blue light stood vigil over her as if it owned her fate. She stared at it until her awareness faded away.

  * * *

  “Sleeping?”

  Margi heard a voice, then the familiar giggle. She opened her eyes to see Ferli at the foot of her bed, which apparently was the norm. She would need to put a stop to it but on another day.

  “Agenda. You’re giving a tour. The Galan Group. Remember?” Ferli asked.

  “Yes, of course.” She was alive, albeit on Danu.

  “Then, Loz wants to see you.”

  “Why?” Margi was instantly alarmed. “He already saw me.”

  “I do as I’m told,” she replied while staring into her tablet.

  Margi rose to ready herself.

  “I’ve prepared a script for the tour.” Ferli held out a scroll.

  A scroll, of all things, Margi thought. She unfurled it to read its contents.

  Ferli had already bowed her head and turned for the door. “I’ll be outside,” she said without looking back.