The Silent Rhymes of a Snowflake

by Jaclyn Lewis

  I’m catching onto the cafeteria routine quickly and am going through the line when Silas catches my eye behind the counter where he’s restocking the fruit bowls and lets out a whistle.

  “Sheesh…your face looks like a tomato! I thought everyone told you to wear sunscreen, lady.”

  Blood rushes to my cheeks, but because of the sunburn I’m sure he won’t notice. I’m not sure why, but I’m extremely embarrassed.

  I “shush” him for the whistle and then explain to him “I did wear sunscreen. You have no idea how brutal that sun is.”

  My remark escapes more abrasively than I had intended. He looks taken back and I know he heard the tone of jealousy toward his being indoors all day.

  I don’t know how to recover so I just ask him “how was your first day in the kitchen?”

  “It’s been ok. I mostly brought up crates from the loading dock all day. Meal times have been the only time I’ve been in here. Right now they just have me organizing foods while they teach me how to cook them and where everything is in the kitchen. You wouldn’t believe how unorganized everything is, though. I think I may spend some extra time just making the kitchen run more efficiently.”

  I have to laugh at his confidence. “So you’ve been here one day and you’re already making changes? You don’t waste time do you?”

  “No I don’t. Tomorrow they’re supposed to start letting me cook a few things. That’s kind of a scary thought, huh?”

  “Yeah I guess.” As scary as almost dying in the sun or being beat up by trained militia? I think not. I smirk at him and realize I am still standing at the fruit counter, but haven’t filled my plate yet.

  As I fill my plate with apple beans I ask him, “Hey, could you do that whistle thing again?”

  He can hardly do it right because now he’s laughing and I am too. I shake my head at him playfully and and walk toward my table where Ember, Zila, and Aubrey are already sitting.

  Aubrey and Kylee are two of the three black girls in our room. They both have the most beautiful hair and exotically gorgeous faces. I hear from Zila about how the asprosium mine is stuffy and hot. It sounds like the mining process is somewhat similar to what I’m doing except she’s underground. She looks as if she sweated off several pounds today and she has already had three glasses of juice to drink before even starting dinner. She lacks the sunburn that graces my face, but appears equally exhausted.

  When it’s my turn to talk about my job, I tell them about the gargantuan diamonds and tell them that it’s hard work and really hot. I leave out the rest about Lotus and how she didn’t even make me work as hard as I was supposed to. I’m not prepared to expose every facet of my weaknesses to these girls. I can’t bring myself to talk about the girl who died in the heat. It’s so strange—sometimes I want to cry over what happened out there, but then it’s like the memory of it isn’t even there. It seems like something I shouldn’t forget so quickly.

  When we ask her, Ember starts to open up a bit about the militia training. “I spent the day in boot camp. The first part was hard enough—running laps, doing pushups, jumping jacks, and jumping rope until my legs wanted to give out. Then they put us in a ring and made us fight each other. I had to go up against this big veteran guy named Gavin. He gave me the shiner. The whole time I kept trying to think of anything from my memories that would help. Nothing did. My reflexes were weak and I couldn’t think of anything that made it better.” She points at her swollen and bruised eye.

  Gavin is Nikki’s husband. I hope my expression does not betray that I know him.

  She thinks for a moment and then says “I guess I feel defeated—and angry that they sent me into combat when I have no memories of how to fight.”

  “Ember, maybe they’re just doing that ‘break you down to build you up’ thing.” I’m not sure how we’re all aware of that concept, but everyone knows what I’m talking about and another girl jumps in.

  “You won’t die in the combat training. You’ll just become stronger.” This remark comes from Kylee who has the posh job of pilot.

  “That’s not what my sergeant said. He told us that we are all replaceable and that he didn’t care if we lived or died. If we want to live, it is up to us not to fail. I won’t fail, though. Not because I have so much to live for, but because I’m too curious to die. I have a lot of questions I want answered before I kick it.”

  She goes back to eating and we leave her alone. Even while chewing she wears a determined scowl.

  We talk to Kylee some more about the specters that fascinate us all. It’s clear she has just been waiting for someone to ask her and we spend the rest of the evening focusing on her stories and forgetting the other parts of our day.

  * * *

  I want to head back to my room, but I remember that I promised Nikki I would play cards with her tonight in one of the lounges in this den. I wish I hadn’t made that promise before I knew how tired I would be.

  I find her, Gavin, and their friend Alisa sitting on a couch. They all get their “tomato face” comments out of their systems as they point at my sunburn.

  I’m informed that between my face and my hair I’m just a walking clump of red. Nikki puts the joking aside and sincerely asks about my day. I tell her it was hard, but that I’d rather not relive it in my downtime. Then Gavin shuffles and deals for spades.

  When he mentions cards, images jump into my mind. I see a dealer in a casino. He wears a shiny hat and just then the rules of several different games flash before me. I don’t know why or how, but I know how to play spades. I also know how to play poker, blackjack, and go fish. I can’t remember ever having played any of those games, but I know the rules.

  Alisa and I are paired up. When it’s my turn, I comfortably bid a four making our team bid seven. We chat as we play and Alisa and I win the first round. I’m so tired I can barely focus on the cards and I seem to be operating on autopilot.

  “Gavin, I heard you beat up a new girl today.” I say while arranging my cards in order of suit for round two.

  His eyes flash up at me. “I helped train the recruits if that’s you mean.”

  “Ember’s my roommate and friend. You sent her back with a bruise on her face.” I sound angry and I guess I am, but I also sound hesitant. No one here is a good enough friend to risk an argument with.

  “Well, I’m the least of that girl’s worries. If we ever get into a real war she’ll need to rely on her training. She can handle a few bruises. She’ll be fine. She was actually one of the strongest ones we had today, but I didn’t want to tell her that.”

  Alisa and I win round two.

  Gavin continues the conversation. “Our militia is only a defensive force. We have war games that teach us about strategy and being an aggressive military in case it is ever needed. We are here to protect Erimos and Pavana.”

  “Against who exactly?” I scoff.

  “Anything that brings danger. We are still exploring this galaxy. Who knows what’s out there.”

  What he says may be true, but I still wish he weren’t the source of Ember’s pain.

  The night goes on and before I know it I look at the patch on my arm and realize it is nine o’clock. Our teams have been playing pretty equally and Alisa and I are in our last push to get to five hundred points. Every muscle in my body desperately groans for sleep. I’m not even really paying attention to the game anymore…just mindlessly playing which is why I’m so surprised when Alisa and I pull off a win with 520 points.

  Nikki is yelling at Gavin that he overbid and that they should have won because they are more experienced. He kisses her and tries to console her competitive spirit. She doesn’t stay mad at him long and when they walk out they are holding hands. Mustering the most convincing smile I can, I tell everyone good night.

  When I get back to my dorm I’m not surprised to find twelve other girls passed out on their beds. It was a long day for everyone. I go to brush my teeth and stare at my face in the mirror.

  I wonder
what the selection process is for volunteers. I’m physically built stronger than some of the other girls. I’m taller and not exactly weak looking, but my muscles seem to have no memory of how to work hard on their own and I’m paralyzed by my insecurity. I wonder what I did on Earth. I wonder what my family was like. In a daydream I picture asking myself these questions and the sunburned ginger in the mirror giving me the answers I would die to have.

  Chapter 8

  *

  Genesis

  The tone wakes me from a dead sleep, but at least I didn’t dream last night. When I sit up I let out a loud groan as my entire body resists movement. I am so painfully stiff. I do not want to face whatever waits for me today.

  My body is forced off the bunk and into the shower only by sheer willpower. The hot water relieves some of the tension in my arms, but I know it will not be enough. Today is going to hurt.

  After dressing, I tell all the girls “good morning”. Ember’s bruises are a different color today and she tries to cover them with make-up, but it doesn’t work. I wait for her before I head off to breakfast.

  She appears composed although she doesn’t say much. When I walk into the cafeteria I grab my tray and instinctively look for Silas. He’s behind the juice counter today.

  I say “hi” to him and ask how his second day is going.

  “Fine…you know, restoring the Earth through juice.” We laugh and he makes another joke about my sunburn before I head to my table.

  I have just sat down with Nikki and Gavin when Ember starts to join us. She recognizes Gavin from yesterday and I watch as she stiffens. She finds another table and sits alone.

  I ask Nikki “Do you know why everyone here is so close to the same age? I mean there are no old people, or babies or anything. Everyone here looks so young.”

  “Well, actually, um—there will be a baby.”

  She pauses with a smile that glows brighter than the sun. It takes Gavin a couple of seconds to register the meaning of her words. When he does, he’s elated—kissing and hugging his wife—soon to be a mother.

  I haven’t known them for long, but Gavin is a bit of a mystery to me. A man so sweet and gentle—also inflicting pain on my friend Ember. I look over at her as she is staring at the excited couple. She doesn’t act like she cares at all, but she seems to carry intense pain with her everywhere she goes. I wonder how that’s possible—if somehow it is a shadow of painful memories unremembered.

  My real question to Nikki never got answered, but that’s ok. I wonder if I’ll ever get to enjoy a normal moment like that. Maybe one day, this rushing curiosity will fade. Maybe I’ll run out of questions and move on with my life. Maybe I’ll learn to live with who I am.

  It’s time to head out to the Sugar Pit so I grab my lunch and stick it in my backpack. This time I look inside and see that lunch will be made up of beef jerky, croissants, corn, and a brownie. Well, the brownie is something to look forward to at least.

  Before I leave, I wish Ember good luck and tell her to dodge all the punches. She has pinned her very long hair up today and she looks like she’s ready for battle. I picture her fighting off a thousand demons with her bare hands and winning—all because of that look in her eyes. She sighs and I know inside she must dread going back to combat training, but there’s also a fierceness that tells me she has decided to beat this thing and survive--no matter how much it hurts. Good for her. I hope I can convince myself to do the same.

  I head down to Bay Twelve. This time I’m prepared for the snowflake scan and the heat when I open the bay door. When I saunter inside the specter, Lotus is already seated with her sunglasses on and I sit next to her.

  “Are you sore today?” She asks.

  “Yes…very, but you know what? I have to learn to do this and do it right so no letting me slack off, trainer.” I hope she can hear the determination in my voice.

  “Ok. It’s on. No mercy today.” She’s teasing I can tell, but still I feel like she doesn’t really believe that I can mine diamonds for four and half hours straight without collapsing. And I can’t shake the image of that girl from yesterday who was left to die in the sand like a wounded animal.

  Maybe Lotus believes she’ll end up having to rescue me again and work for both of us. I really don’t want to embarrass myself like that again. I’m not so sure that I believe I can do it either.

  The flash. The second of pause. The flash again.

  We are at the Sugar Pit again. I love the feeling of flashing through dimensions of space and knowing that I have traveled over four thousand miles in a matter of seconds. It’s also a little unsettling. What if the specter doesn’t come back? Is there a backup plan for survival in this wasteland?

  This time I know the routine: down the elevator, backpack in locker; grab some water, a pickaxe, laser cutter, and a bucket. I’m glad I decided to apply my sunscreen before breakfast. I’m sure it is good and soaked into my crimson skin by now.

  The bell rings and we begin slamming away at the rocks. At the first thrust my arms scream in pain, but I don’t let it show. Instead, I grit my teeth and don’t say a word.

  The pick-axe handles a little better today--hitting much closer to my mark every time. My mind wanders as I try to think back to what it was like to work on Earth. I’m pretty pale so I determine that I must have worked inside or in a colder climate.

  I wonder if I worked in the snow. The snowflake on my cheek comes to mind and suddenly I’m struck by the irony that I work for a company that has a strange obsession with snowflakes on a 110-degree planet.

  Focus your thoughts on ice and snow, I tell myself. I can picture it and almost feel the sensation of something that cold against my body. For a while the thought takes my mind off the heat.

  I imagine a skier being burned by the wind and proximity to the sun, but without the fire I feel on my body right now. Instead, she revels in the cold and slush, shivering as she is battered by the wind while riding a ski lift to the top of the slope. Trees dusted in glistening snow look like tiny dots of cotton from the height of the lift.

  The rhythm of picks striking rocks dulls my senses as I focus on breaking the rock one hit at a time.

  We stop for water and I realize I have been picking for an hour. Maybe by daydreaming about snow, I have been able to psych myself into doing this. Lotus seems genuinely impressed. It’s either because I haven’t asked any questions in the last hour or because I’m working harder than she expected. I decide not to ask which one impresses her more and throw back a liter of water while barely even stopping to breathe.

  My face is drenched in sweat so I wipe the drops away with a towel and feel that my hair is already soaked and sticking to my face. I wish it were long enough to pull back.

  If I had known what my working conditions would be like I would have thought through the hairstyle choice a little more. It is constantly falling in my eyes and sticking to me while I work.

  It is 9:45 when I go back to my place on the rock face and continue picking. It feels like I’ve been out here longer. The diamond infused rocks sparkle in the sun.

  I don’t own a diamond, but maybe I will one day. I haven’t been into the market yet, but I hear they sell Erimos-diamonds very cheaply there…like the one I saw on Nikki’s finger this morning. Maybe one day someone will love me enough to save up his credits for one. I guess it’s a sign of adjustment that I’m setting hopes and dreams for myself now. For a while I let the twinkling rocks lull me into other thoughts.

  I wonder what it is like on Earth to have a currency of diamonds. It seems like such a waste in a time of desperation, but then money has to be backed with something I suppose.

  CGC must be the only supplier now. That would give them an unusual amount of power. What does government on Earth look like, I wonder?

  When I think of the word “government” a few things run through my mind. Somehow I’m able to instantly understand how several governments used to operate and what their various laws were. I can picture sta
te buildings and flags—they flash through my brain like fast-rolling film. They don’t pertain to me now or to anyone else anymore, but it fascinates me that I can remember them.

  Then, as if something from outside of me has impressed an image on me, I see the man with the lavender eyes from my dream again. He’s sitting at a table with me in a fancy restaurant, wine glass in his hand. We are laughing and talking together in the light of candle on our table.

  The short picture of it is gone so quickly. I tried to hold onto it. I wanted to know more, but I don’t know how to make them come back.

  The heat begins to overcome me around ten fifteen. My thoughts go back to snow. A picture of an Eskimo family huddled inside an igloo is what I set my attention on. I wonder what it’s like to hunt and track animals in the snow. What did they do in their spare time? Tell ghost stories around a fire? Make blankets?

  Don’t think about blankets--think about the ice. Ice, Genna!

  Ok. Visualization exercises aren’t working anymore. I can no longer shut out the blistering heat and the excruciating pain filling my lungs and muscles at the same time.

  I’m about to lose the battle with my mind when Lotus startles me from the war in my head.

  “Wow…you’re stronger than I gave you credit for, Genna.” Her face is toying with a smile even as drops of sweat slither down her jaw and water the dust. “I’m really proud of my protégé.”

  “Thanks” is all I can muster. She will never know that her words are what gave me just enough willpower to keep on going.

  By ten forty five I feel like I’m going to die. I break longer than I should to get water and catch my breath, but Noah doesn’t notice. My tears are mixed with so much sweat that I’m sure Lotus won’t know the difference and I stop trying to hold them back.

  By eleven I’m actually wishing for death and I resolve to get right on that after I finish. Every dry breath burns my lungs with a fire that is so intense I want nothing more than to just put it out. My arms, legs, neck, back, head—every single part of me begs for relief. I’m determined not to be a quitter even if it does kill me, and I’m pretty sure now that it will.