by D. Brumbley
“The Initiative has not and will not set in place any rules that prescribe who you may or may not be with, romantically, sexually, socially, anything. That’s anathema to any ideas of freedom. What will happen, however, is that when you all arrive on Station Nine, your profiles will be entered into the matching system, with slightly different parameters than it would use under more normal circumstances.” He paused to take a drink of water from a bottle he had nearby, and stepped forward to the edge of the stage to explain more fully.
“For Jannah, the system has been programmed primarily to examine genetic compatibility, with a focus on diversification of profiles among potential offspring. As a part of a colony, you will all be encouraged, though hopefully little encouragement will be required,” he smiled, as if it were an inside joke he was sharing with all of them, “to be fruitful and multiply, as it were. The match program defines the partners with whom that fruitfulness will be best achieved, while also factoring in elements like personality compatibility, social outlooks, personality strengths, weaknesses, etc. That will be a part of our lives once we arrive on Jannah, and in preparation for that, it will be a part of life in the Initiative once training begins.”
Anna didn’t care what the matching system said about genetic diversity, she didn’t want to multiply with anyone else other than Logan and that was that. It could spit out whatever information it wanted, she didn’t care. She leaned in and kissed Logan’s cheek as soon as she heard other people talking about the explanation they’d been given. She whispered into his ear afterward. “They’re not going to have much use for me, since if I’m not already knocked up, I soon will be.”
“You sound pretty sure of that.” He said back to her with a grin. “Little determined, are you?”
“He said they won’t set any rules or prescribe who we will be with. I’ve already picked you. And I’m going to fuck you silly, if that’s what it takes.” She continued to whisper into his ear, then nipped at his earlobe afterward with a smirk. “So yes, you can say I’m determined.”
“I like you determined.” He chuckled and turned to kiss her, ignoring most of a question that someone toward the back of the room had asked until Emmanuel began to answer it.
“Yes, all of you will go through a rigorous health screening between here and liftoff. Not only will you be treated for any mundane diseases you may be carrying with you, but you’ll also be put through treatments to eradicate any traces of the Crisis Virus from your systems. Those treatments will have to continue through the first month of your time on the station by way of daily treatments, but it can be cured, and you will not suffer the effects. We will not be taking the Crisis to Jannah.” He said definitively, getting approving expressions from most of the other officers behind him. “We are going to create a world free from the Crisis. Free from the past that we’ve burned into this planet. It will be as good as we are capable of making it. And you are all very, very capable. That’s why you’re here.”
Growing up on Earth, knowing that the Crisis Virus was in every molecule of the planet, in the air, in the water, in every plant and animal, in every human being, was a dread that everyone had to learn to live with sooner or later. In Orbit, with systems of control, quarantine, intensive medications, it was possible to eliminate it from an individual, from a controlled population. It was that possibility that had driven humanity into orbit in the first place, in the early years following the Crisis itself. But with Earth itself as the problem, the virus was too widespread to ever have any hope of eliminating it. “I wish they would fix Earth too.” She said softly to Logan. “Or at least try. Though I know it’s already too late for some people.” Too late for her father, certainly.
“Maybe someday.” Logan said quietly, the same thoughts running through his own mind. “When they’ve evacuated everyone off Earth and moved them to Jannah, then maybe they can be sure this whole place has been wiped clean of the virus, and start bringing people back here. That’s the only way I can think it’ll be destroyed completely.”
“They don’t care about Earth. They just picked another planet.” She shook her head but held tightly to his arm as a few more questions were asked, then they were allowed to break for drinks and snacks. “Let’s get something to eat. I’m starving.”
Most of the prospective Initiates went off in small groups to talk amongst themselves, which meant no one was talking to the woman who’d come by herself. She was left alone through most of her plate of food, but when she was nearly finished, a voice interrupted her halfway through a bite of one of the rolls they had offered, turning stale due to the length of the presentation.
“So.” The voice was a pleasant baritone, slightly on the high side, but not so high as to take away the masculine thrum of it in the row behind her. “What percentage of this crowd do you think actually bought the bullshit answer he tried to sell for your question about the explosion?”
The woman didn’t even turn around when the voice spoke, since it didn’t matter who it was, she’d give them the same answer. “At least half of them wanted to hear someone tell them it was just an accident. People always buy the bullshit they want to hear.” She put the roll down on the paper plate and tossed it all in the trash bin. She didn’t like to eat around other people, since she figured she got enough judgment about her appearance without people telling her the carbohydrates in bread wouldn’t help her any. She finally looked over at whoever had decided to speak to her, and she raised an eyebrow in her assessment before she said anything else. “Why, what do you think?”
“I think you have one of the better noses for bullshit in the room. I always appreciate that in a person.” He stayed where he was so that she could get a good look at him, hair falling partly in his face, wiry build and sharp, focused brown eyes that seemed to take in nothing but her. He leaned forward and put a hand out to take hers, trying to hold eye contact as always so that she wouldn’t get distracted and start asking questions about the scars on his hand. “Gordon White, pleased to meet you.”
She didn’t even look down at his hand as she put her hand in his, but her scowl didn’t dissipate. “Jessica Rogers. Jess. Though I have a feeling that you already knew that.” Jess shook his hand firmly before she pulled her hand back. “That look in your eyes tells me that you know more than you’re willing to say.”
“Like I said, one of the better bullshit detectors in the room.” He sat back in his seat and looked her over without trying in any way to make it look as though he wasn’t. “I know your name and I’ve seen bits and pieces of your profile, but I know better than to think something like that tells the full story about a person. I wouldn’t have expected somebody from the Great Lakes district to have your kind of attitude, either. It’s refreshing. Did you pick it up somewhere or does it come naturally?”
“This is all natural, baby.” She said with the same biting sarcasm that he would expect from the kind of comment that he gave her. “It gets worse as I get older, according to my dying mother. Last month she told me I’ll die alone and I am the reason all of my siblings moved away. Cancer makes her so pleasant.” There was a flicker of pain in her eyes that she tried to hide by looking down into her drink. “So, were you looking for a bullshit detector, or is there another reason why you decided to come say hello? Don’t tell me that you’re some bleeding heart that felt bad for the woman sitting alone.”
“I don’t befriend people out of pity. Which is convenient, since I don’t actually feel pity for people often. The only time my heart bleeds is when someone is cutting into it. I always get cranky when that happens.” He shook his head and moved forward again to lean on the back of the seat beside her. “And you’re not going to die alone. Didn’t you hear the officer? Your perfect match awaits you in orbit.”
“Uh huh.” She clearly didn’t seem convinced about that either. “Considering the small pool of people that have been collected for this project, I highly doubt it will be a perfect match. Maybe genetically, considering that’s
what they care about. They don’t care if I like someone as long as they get me up there.” She looked up at the ceiling as though she could see through it. “I’m still deciding whether I care or not if I turn into one of their pets. I mean, the end result is a one-way ticket to Jannah, after all.”
“Well, the ticket won’t quite be one-way. At least, not if certain individuals have anything to say about it.” Gordon shrugged as he looked her over, smiling at her crisis of decision. “And being aware that all someone wants is a pet is the first step in avoiding a leash. Obedience doesn’t strike me as your primary virtue.”
“Never did get that obedience thing down.” Jess finally turned her attention back to Gordon and took her time examining him before she said anything else. “So if you don’t befriend people out of pity, then why do you? I don’t have anything to offer you.”
“I’ve always believed that friends are their own reward. I don’t make many, but that’s mostly because I think the majority of people are complete morons with no sense of what’s actually going on more than ten feet from their faces. And what is that supposed to mean, exactly, that you have nothing to offer?”
“Exactly what it means.” She said plainly, since she wasn’t looking for pity or anything. “I live on a farm with a large vineyard and my mother. Other than lots of Earth money that will mean nothing up in the sky, I don’t have anything to offer you. I don’t have information or connections.”
“That’s a virtue in itself. It’s a precious thing sometimes in this world to come without any strings attached. So few of us do.” He chuckled and held her eyes, clearly unafraid of being thought to stare too long when he thought someone was worth staring at. “Plus, if you’re rich and you own vineyards, maybe what you have to offer is some really good wine to bring along to orbit. The liquor they produce up there isn’t bad, but they’re shit with wine.”
Jess looked confused at that comment, since she didn’t realize she was talking to someone who had already been up in space. Usually people didn’t come back once they went up. “I’m not sure the trip wouldn’t affect the flavor, and I’ve always been careful with the flavor.” She didn’t know why he was looking her over so intensely, but she tried to ignore it. “You’ve been up there already? Why are you here then?”
“Easy.” He glanced around as a precaution to make sure no one was close by listening, but they were being ignored, for the time being. “I didn’t make the trip up there in the first place by choice, for one thing, and I’m here because Jannah is the best opportunity humanity has ever had. I don’t intend to let it get fucked up by people who think they know what they’re doing and clearly don’t.”
“You don’t intend to let it?” She leaned in closer to him, since he seemed to be intent on being secretive. “Who are you that you can control something like that?”
He leaned in the same as she did, until he was just a few inches away from her. “Who am I? Wonderful question. If you figure it out, please let me know. I’ve been wondering for years.” He grinned with a tiny spark of malevolence, and moved one hand in closer between them to rest on her shoulder. “For right now, I’m the guy who likes you, Jess Rogers. Who wants to be friends. Who wants to make sure Jannah is a place for everyone on the planet, not the chosen few the Consortium deems worthy to enjoy it. I’m also the guy who happens to share your general distaste for bullshit, as well as your hope for better things to come.”
Jess looked at his hand as soon as he put it on her shoulder, but she left it there until he was done talking, then plucked it off. “Maybe we can be friends. I’m not sure I trust you any more than I trust them, but you make a good speech. A little idealistic, maybe.” She let go of his hand and leaned back. “Besides, you barely know me. You can’t possibly like me. Even the people that know me don’t like me very much.”
“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do.” He said sharply, but still with a grin, as he pushed himself to his feet. “I’ll like you if I want to like you, and there’s not much you can do about it.” He moved down the row behind her to leave, the conversation clearly over. On his way by though, he left a brief caress on the back of her neck that could have been an accident, but from the rest of his nature, probably wasn’t. Especially with the grin he gave her afterward. “I’ll see you on launch day. If not before.”
Jess didn’t know why he would continue to touch her or how he would possibly see her again before launch, if she even chose to go in the first place. He didn’t know where she lived. Did he? She watched him go and shook her head as she looked away. He was trouble, she could already tell. Whatever he was planning would be trouble too, but like everything else, she would have to decide if it was worth it.
12
The second time Orion and Mercury shared a pod was significantly less terrifying than the first. Leaving Station Three had gone without a hitch, and they had again been permitted to leave and the use of a small service pod to get from Three back to Nine, where their Jannah briefing was scheduled. They had seldom left his unit in the time since the unfortunate incident at the club, which was fine by Orion.
They were still over an hour out from Station Nine, on course with no warnings on their instruments, and they had abandoned their flight jumpsuits more than an hour before. There appeared to be nothing in front of Mercury but empty space and stars through the clear glass of the pod. There was nothing behind her but a control panel and Orion, his knees tucked up against the back of hers, his arms wrapped around her shoulders and her waist to hold her back against him. It felt like he was keeping her from falling into the abyss that filled most of the universe. On the night-side of Earth beneath them, small veins of gold could be seen where humanity persisted on the ground, but otherwise their bodies were lit only by the instrument display, the moon, and the stars.
“This is the best view the moon’s had in a while, I’m betting.” He said with a kiss to the back of her shoulder as the pod rotated to face the distant crescent, lifting his arm off her for good measure to leave the entirety of her exposed to the moon before he took hold of her again. “Hopefully no kids up there on the lunar stations with a telescope trying to check out dots flying orbital patterns. This is not a kid-friendly show.”
Mercury laughed and kissed his arm so that he would keep it in place against her, since she liked the way he held onto her, the way it seemed like he wanted the world to know that she belonged to him. She left her lips pressed against his skin for a long time before she said anything. “Do you think it is premature to want to get married?” They hadn’t spoken in depth about marriage, only that they would see how they felt after a month of being together. Even so, Mercury didn’t want to wait.
“I hope not, since I’d really like to talk about it.” He chuckled against her back and continued his kisses along her neck and shoulder. “I feel like there’s still a lot that we don’t know about each other, but every time I try to tell myself that, I realize I’m more excited to learn more about you than I’m afraid of anything I wouldn’t like hearing.”
“Is there anything I wouldn’t want to know that you’re keeping from me? You seem like an honest and forthright man.” She reached to run her hand along his side. “I know being matched isn’t a perfect science, and there are a lot of things that go into a marriage. But I also know this is better than I could have hoped, and I don’t want to go looking for anyone else. I’d rather plunge into the unknown variables of marriage with you. I don’t see a reason not to. Even if it were to fail, I don’t think I would regret trying in the first place.”
“I don’t think I would either. As a connoisseur of failed relationships, believe me, I’ve thought about it.” Their bodies were connected along their entire length, braced in place only by Orion’s feet tucked into restraints along the foot of the pod’s backboards. It left the opportunity in zero gravity for him to move against her however he saw fit, to keep the fact of their connection alive in their bodies’ awareness of each other. It had been a truly delic
ious flight, and one that he looked forward to repeating as often as possible. “All I know is that we’re gonna be asked to make a lot of sacrifices for Jannah. That idea doesn’t bother me right now, but I realize that’s because for most of my life, I’ve been in it for me and nobody else. Sacrificing time with you is gonna be hard. It’s still something I’m willing to do, since I still believe the new world is gonna be worth it, but it’s still gonna be hard.”
“But we’ll do it together.” She said after she groaned from his movement, since she couldn’t stop enjoying herself whenever he gave her the chance. “We’ll explore and enjoy the new world together. And make beautiful babies. You know, eventually.”
“Eventually.” Babies were one thing that they had only spoken about briefly, since it had been obvious they both wanted children, but they weren’t in any hurry about it. “The Initiative might want faster movement on that than we were really thinking about. But If we’ve still got at least a year of flight time, I don’t know if they’ll want the variable of having babies aboard or not. I wouldn’t, but I’m not gonna be the one at the helm.”
Mercury wasn’t thrilled about having a baby so soon, since even a year sounded like it was too soon for her. “I want more time with you before adding a variable like children to the equation.” She leaned her head back against his chest and took a deep breath. “What do you think this meeting will be about? I’m so curious I can’t stand it.”
