by C. A. Gray
“No…” I gave him a secretive smile. “Elizabeth is the name of the heroine in the novel I’ve been writing. She’s basically me, so if I had to pick a fictionalized name for myself, it’d be that.”
Jake looked up. “I didn’t know you were writing a novel.”
I shrugged. “Well, I haven’t touched it in ages.” Basically since before all of this happened, I thought. It seemed a lifetime ago that I wrote about the maid Elizabeth and the dashing Prince Nikolai. Nikolai… under the section of ‘call to adventure,’ I wrote, “Three friends join her in her quest: Nikolai, Arabella, and Ekaterina.” Arabella and Ekaterina were the names of the two princesses in my original novel.
“What, are they Russian?” Andy frowned. “Why not Desdemona and Trayu?”
“Because, I’m a fairy tale princess kind of girl, not a video game kind of girl.”
“I’m gonna record that,” Jake teased. “Becca the badass admits that she’s a ‘fairy tale princess kind of girl.’”
I laughed, pleased, but a little taken aback. “When has anyone ever confused me with a badass?”
“Aw, Julie calls you that all the time, especially since all this crazy crap went down,” Jake said, distracted, as he sketched on the netscreen.
“What do I call Becca?” Julie’s voice trilled up the stairs as she approached, a little breathless. I heard a yip yip yip behind her, but before Jake could reply, she burst in upon us. “Look what I found wandering outside one of the caves, looking all lost and hungry!” She scooped up a little brown and white terrier into her arms and snuggled her, producing a series of yip-yaps. “I’m gonna name her Queenie! We need a mascot around here!”
Andy wandered over to greet Queenie, leaving me to my work.
Main dictator, I wrote, and stared at the blank space for a minute. “Hey Jake, I need a really evil-sounding name.”
“Satan,” he said immediately.
I snorted. “Slightly less overt.”
“How about Abaddon?”
I turned around at this, and was surprised to see Alex coming up the stairs. “It’s also a biblical reference, but less well known,” she went on. “Abaddon is the angel of death in the Book of Revelation.”
I blinked at her, not sure what to say. “Okay. Er, thanks.”
She tossed her long dark hair, sashaying her hips as she made her way over to Jake. “Whatcha doin’ there?” she almost purred. I noticed that Julie stopped playing with Queenie long enough to glare at Alex.
“Um,” Jake faltered, and licked his lips as she leaned on the desk beside him. “We’re, ah. Just—”
“—messing around,” I cut in for him. Suddenly I remembered Mom’s injunction not to tell Alex anything if we could help it. The less she knew, the better. “I’m writing a play, just, you know. To keep us entertained. Jake’s an artist so he asked Nilesh to download AnimatR so he’d have something to do.”
Alex blinked very slowly, and leveled her gaze at me. “Really.” She wasn’t buying it.
“Really.” I smiled back evenly. I caught Jake’s confused expression, but he didn’t contradict me.
Alex turned back to Jake, and she leaned over to place her forearms on the table beside him, exposing her cleavage beneath her V-neck tee. “Is that true?” she purred. Jake went red.
I shot an incredulous look at Julie, who was also red, but for a different reason. She cleared her throat and marched over to the table.
“Yes, that’s true,” she snapped, placing a hand on the back of the chair where Jake sat.
Alex smirked at Julie, lowered her lashes one more time at Jake, and I wasn’t sure if she winked or not. “I’d love to see more of your work later,” she said, as she sashayed back to the stairs.
Once she was gone, Andy let out a low whistle, and Julie spluttered incoherently. Jake glanced at me.
“Why did you tell her that?”
“My mom said not to trust her,” I told him in a low voice.
“And I would agree!” Julie exclaimed, but Jake rolled his eyes.
“Come on, Becca. She’s a flirt, okay!” he held up his hands to Julie, “but I think she’s otherwise harmless. You and your mom are just…” he grimaced a little.
I narrowed my eyes, though I wasn’t actually mad. “Just what?”
“Ehh, maybe a little on the paranoid side!” he finished, holding up his hands to me in a don’t-shoot gesture. “Besides, isn’t she supposed to be some kind of a genius? Maybe she could be helpful, who knows?”
Julie snorted. “‘Otherwise harmless?’” she echoed, glaring at Jake, and pointing at the stairs where Alex had been. “That woman? ‘Ooh, I’d love to see more of your work later!’” she mimicked.
“Babe—” Jake protested, and from there the conversation devolved into a bickering match. Andy raised his eyebrows uncomfortably and excused himself, while I tried to tune them out, sketching my plot on the notebook.
The three friends would find out that Prime Minister Abaddon (I’d use that name until I could come up with something else) had anyone in his regime who made a mistake of any kind killed, because he did not tolerate imperfection. Elizabeth’s father became a threat to his power, and therefore to the stability of their society. Now, she and her friends posed a threat as well, and so he would eliminate them. They manage to escape, and that’s the turning point for her, where she decides that she will take over her father’s mantle and tell the world who and what Prime Minister Abaddon really is: that his ‘perfect’ society considers humanity to be expendable. He wanted to eliminate the shortcomings of being human, but in so doing, he also eliminated all the beauty and goodness as well. “You can’t have good without bad,” I wrote—and these lines would end up in Elizabeth’s mouth at some point. “You can’t have joy without the possibility of sorrow, or pleasure without the risk of pain, or love without the risk of heartbreak. But it’s worth that risk!”
Or maybe Nikolai should say that. After all, he was the only male friend, so he was basically Liam—and Liam was way more likely to say that sort of thing than I was. Maybe Nikolai would say this to Elizabeth, in a tender moment where he’s trying to convince her to give love a chance…
No. There absolutely could not be a love story in here, not unless I could somehow obscure who the characters represented… that was way too obvious. I tapped my pencil on the paper. Still, about a thousand love songs went through my head that Liam and I could sing together, as Elizabeth and Nikolai…
No, I stopped myself. In fact, I shouldn’t even have Liam play Nikolai. That should be Jake, anyway. But those songs did give me an idea.
“Hey Jake,” I interrupted their fight, “do you think we should just repurpose songs that are already out there for this, so we don’t have to write them all from scratch?—And by we, I mean you, since I don’t write songs.”
Jake and Julie looked up. Confusion flickered across both of their faces as they attempted to shift from their argument to a new topic. Finally Jake murmured, “Er, yeah. Sure. That’d be faster, I guess.”
“Hm,” I grunted, furrowing my brow in thought as they haltingly resumed their fight, if perhaps with slightly less venom. That also might give us the instant recognition bias—people would immediately like the songs more and sing along, because they’d know them. And there were no copyright laws—art and music belonged to the commonwealth in theory, but to the government in actual fact, just as surely as any other form of labor did.
The problem was, I’d never listened to popular music all that much. I didn’t like most of it. But it wasn’t about what I liked: popular songs would sell the story.
But who in this compound might know popular music well enough to suggest the songs that might fit?
Madeline! I suddenly realized. Of course; her every upgrade came equipped with a complete encyclopedia of all new media since the previous upgrade. Some people liked to use their companion bots as listening devices. I went downstairs to my room, giving
Jake and Julie their privacy—especially since the fight had now blown over and Julie sat in Jake’s lap, her arms draped around his neck.
After I explained my project to Madeline, I added, “And I’ll need your help. Will you film me telling my story, for the very end? That way people will know they just watched an adaptation of a true story.”
“Ooh, of course I will!” she squealed, like an excited teenager.
I grinned, even though I’d never have expected her to say anything else. “Awesome. Also, we’re looking for top 20 songs across all charts within the last five years probably, the sorts of songs nearly everyone would recognize. Singing characters are Elizabeth—that’s me, her three friends Nikolai, Ekaterina, and Arabella, and the villain, Prime Minister Abaddon.”
Madeline blinked at me, confused. “The villain sings?”
“Yes, it’s a kid’s show. He’ll have a really sinister song, super orchestral and in a minor key…”
“Do… you… have an orchestra?” she asked, glancing around the room as if they might be hiding in my closet.
“No, but we have RecordingStudio, so we can fake one. I mean… we’ll need a MIDI, or a keyboard or something. Which I guess I’ll have to print, if I can convince Mom to let me use some of the supplies for that. And we have Jake’s guitar. I can play the keyboard a little. RecordingStudio can add in the rhythm. So we’re good as far as required instruments, as long as we don’t pick something crazy complex.”
“I understand. So you are singing Elizabeth; I know your voice. Who is singing for the other characters? I need their voice types and vocal range data.”
I clapped my hands and let out a little giggle of excitement. Madeline was so great. “Okay, Jake will be Nikolai. He and I will do most of the singing—he’s a rock tenor. I guess Ekaterina and Arabella can be Julie and… Val, if she’ll do it,” I added dubiously. “Julie doesn’t sing, but Val’s the only other girl who really does. She’s a breathy and sort of acoustic-sounding second soprano, probably?”
Madeline nodded, her eyes flashing back and forth rapidly as she searched her database, narrowing down possible song options.
“But if she won’t do it, I can convert Arabella into a male character and have Nilesh do it,” I added. “He’s baritone, gravelly, folksy-sounding. Not always quite on pitch, but we can autocorrect that.” Maybe I should just go ahead and convert the character… after all, spending too much recording time with Val didn’t thrill me much.
“So who will be your villain?”
“Um… Liam?” I winced, but had to laugh as I tried to picture his face when I asked him. Remembering my impression of him back when we were in Dublin, I added, “He can be super melodramatic, so he’ll hardly have to act at all. Plus he’s the only one who’s got the voice to pull off what I’m imagining. He’s a baritone, and he’s got the lung power to belt if he wants to—or at least I think he does. I haven’t actually heard him try.”
It took us hours of debate, and listening to snippets of hundreds of songs, before we finally had them all. And by debate, of course, I mean mostly me debating with myself, with Madeline echoing back whatever I’d just said in slightly different words.
Presently, a knock came to my door, accompanied by the unmistakable yipping of Queenie.
“Just came to see how it’s coming!” Julie announced when I opened the door, letting herself in and folding her legs under her as she sat on the edge of my bed. Then she changed her mind and stretched out full length, arms propped under her chin.
In response, I handed her my list of songs for the show, stretching out next to her. She spontaneously started rapping the lyrics to “Can’t Keep Us Down,” one of the songs I’d chosen for Jake and me. I laughed. “What, I don’t get to sing?” she protested, scanning the list for her own name.
“Ah, well… I just thought…” I racked my brain for how to answer this, but she rolled over to face me and winked.
“Just kidding, Becca. I know my strengths and weaknesses. It’s cool.”
I laughed a little awkwardly, still not sure if I was supposed to agree with that or not. “So, you guys okay?” I said instead, gesturing to the ceiling to indicate the room where we’d all been earlier.
“Oh yeah, Jake and I never fight for long. We’re lovers, not fighters.” She grinned. “I never really got the chance to thank you for introducing us. He’s, like, the perfect guy: sensitive but opinionated, really creative and artistic, and omigosh, when he sings? Wow.” She pretended to melt onto my comforter.
I giggled. “I’m so glad. You guys seem really happy.”
“No matter what Francis says,” Julie made a face. “I swear, between him and Alex. We’ll show them, anyway. We’ll get married and have ten kids, and they can eat it, both of ’em!”
“Ten?!” I gagged a little. “You, a mother of ten?”
“What, you don’t think I’d be a good mom?” she feigned offense. “I mean, we’d only be able to survive on the Common Wage, which would mean they’d all be super sickly, but let’s not think about that right now.”
“So you’re on our side at long last, huh?” I teased. “Anti-Halpert?”
She shrugged. “Well, I mean, I’m here, aren’t I? Not like I have much of a choice at this point!” She faced me, propping her head on her elbow. “Okay, so, you and Liam. Talk.”
I shook my head, and looked away evasively. “Nothing to say, really.”
“Uh, excuse me?” she gagged a little. “That song last night?”
“We didn’t pick the song, you guys did,” I reminded her.
“And the way he sang it was like, pouring out his heart to you! Did you miss that? No, obviously you didn’t, because you’re grinning right now.”
“Stop it,” I said, burying my face in my forearm, my voice muffled in my own flesh. “He and Val were deep in conversation for who knows how long last night, and he barely even noticed when I left. I can’t let myself think like that.”
Julie rolled her eyes. “Okay, forget the song, then—what about the way his entire face melts like a sigh when he looks at you? He’s not even trying to hide it, Becca. And you are bright red, and you can’t stop grinning, which tells me what I wanted to know: you do feel the same way! So Andy’s out of the picture, then, right?”
I still hid my face in my hands, but let her see my smile between them. I nodded, and admitted reluctantly, “Yeah. Honestly, I’m not even sure what I ever saw in him…”
“Good, because none of us are either!” Julie declared, folding her legs under her again and leaning forward, propping her chin on both hands. “But you did still like him, last Liam knew of it, right?” I nodded, and she went on, “So… that means the ball’s in your court. That’s why he hasn’t said anything to you yet. What’s the matter?”
I could feel myself grimacing even as my heart thundered in my chest, but wasn’t sure I could explain why. “I don’t know. I—” I stopped, and squeezed my eyes shut.
“Becca?” Julie took both my hands in hers, forcing me to look at her. At first her expression was fierce, and I braced myself for a lecture. But then she seemed to change her mind, and softened. “I know you’re scared right now. But—I’ve dated a lot, okay? And most of the time it’s just been, eh, fine, not that exciting. It’s exciting at first, but then it gets boring because the guy just isn’t that interesting once you get past all the infatuation butterflies. But Jake…” she shook her head. “He’s different. He’s still exciting, because I just love being with him. He makes everything fun, and we have an endless supply of things to talk about, and he’s suuuuch a good kisser…” she mimed melting again, and I giggled. She laughed with me, and met my eyes. “It’s so good on the other side. I just… want that for you! For both of you, because Liam’s really awesome too.”
I nodded, though I could still feel my face grimacing. “I know.”
“Why do you still look like you swallowed a lemon right now?”
I w
ished I could explain. I tried to envision myself with Liam the way she was with Jake, tried to imagine how that would feel. But the overwhelming emotion was still… terror.
“I don’t know. I think there’s something wrong with me,” I confessed at last.
“No, there’s not,” Julie soothed. “You’re normal. It’s scary. But look, you’re not going to get rejected. I can promise you that.”
How could I explain to her? I wasn’t afraid of rejection… I was afraid of the exact opposite, actually. But why? Especially when I simultaneously wanted it?
Julie squeezed my hands, and let them go. “Okay. Pep talk over. I’m going to go see if I can help with dinner.”
Once she’d gone, I stayed sprawled out on the bed thinking, my heart still thundering in my chest.
“Are you going to say something to Liam?” Madeline asked me at last.
I shook my head slowly, but said, “You know that saying that people change the moment the pain of change becomes less than the pain of staying the same?” I rolled over to look at her. “I don’t know if this is typical fear or not, because I am me. The only thing I have to compare myself to is my own experience. But based on what I see of other people around me, I just don’t think it’s normal to be this much more afraid of change, even if it’s a change for the better.” I flipped onto my back, looking at the ceiling. “And until I can figure out why that’s the case, I won’t say anything to Liam. I know I won’t, even though I should, she’s absolutely right. What am I so afraid of?”
“What if you were to talk to Liam about the fact that you are afraid?” Madeline suggested.
“That’s no good, it will result in the same thing,” I said, rolling over and swinging my legs to the edge of the bed. “Besides, I think he knows already.”
“I am happy to listen to you talk it out until you can understand your own emotions, if that will help,” Madeline offered. “For as long as you need me to.”
I felt my heart brim with affection for my ideal, selfless, robotic friend. I spontaneously dropped to the floor and pulled her into a cold metallic hug.
