First Recruits

by Marilyn Foxworthy

  Michelle said, “You sound different.”

  Allie said, “I know. I am different. Hey, can we get something to eat?”

  Outer space food wasn’t bad at all. The cafe was nice and quiet and we had a good time. It took a while for my heart rate to go down. There was something nice about being around other people. They weren’t all like the ones at the club. I guess that I’d developed a prejudice, thinking that all of them were jerks that humiliated Units, but that wasn’t the case. The girls were treated with respect. They didn’t have the same rights and status, but as long as they looked like they were doing something that they were supposed to be, people dealt with them like everyone else.

  After a bit, I noticed a table across the room with several people who occasionally glanced our direction and seemed to be discussing us for some reason. They weren’t laughing. In fact, their conversation seemed very serious. Later, when they stood up and the four of them approached our table, I stood up as well. Michelle was on her feet before I was, wary of the situation and ready for action. Bailey laid her hand on my arm and told me that it looked to her like they just wanted to talk and that we shouldn’t expect trouble yet.

  One of them, a man, said, “Sir, we wanted to say something. To you and the um, young lady. We don’t know how to put this.”

  The group was made up of two men and two women.

  One of the women said, “We were at the club.”

  The other woman said, “Both times.”

  The man said, “And the fact is, we’re sorry.”

  Allie hadn’t moved from her seat.

  The other man said, “We won’t be going back. We’re sorry.”

  One of the women said, “We didn’t know.”

  The other woman said, “That you were…”

  Bailey stepped in and said, “You didn’t know that she was real?”

  The woman said sadly, “Yeah. It never seemed real. I thought I was watching a video. An act.”

  Bailey said, “No. Her tears were real.”

  A man said, “We saw that this time. We’re sorry. We just wanted to tell you.”

  A woman said, “We don’t have Units. None of us. So, we didn’t…”

  Bailey said, “You didn’t know that we were real?”

  The woman said, “I guess not.”

  I said, “Are handshakes a thing here?”

  They weren’t.

  I said, “Anyway, my name is Captain Jimmy Raskin of Eevona Space Command. Thank you for saying what you have. Allie?”

  Allie said, “Yes, I’m real. Are you?”

  The other man said, “I don’t know.”

  I said, “Look. This is going downhill. We don’t mean you any ill will. I will say that you telling us that you were impacted by it makes a little bit of my pain easier to carry. I agonize over these girls and I love them as much as any of you can imagine. We’ll be going.”

  I motioned for the girls to stand so that we could leave, but one of the women said suddenly, “We want to help!”

  I stopped and said, “Help do what?”

  The four of them looked at each other and she said, “We don’t know.”

  The man next to her said, “Something. We don’t know what. But…”

  Bailey said, “I’ll tell you exactly what to do. Find a castoff. You know what that is, don’t you? Give her a job. Treat her well. Don’t let her die. Figure it out.”

  The first man looked at his friends and then back at Bailey and said, “How?”

  Bailey said, “Figure it out. But don’t forget what you saw.”

  Allie whispered ominously, “I’ll haunt you in your dreams,” and she took my arm and walked out of the cafe with me as a couple.

  We didn’t look back. I was surprised at how that had gone but I was happy about it. Not that they had been touched by seeing that the Freak was a real person, but by how we handled it. It would have been easy to sit down with them and conspire to create an underground railroad to help castoff Units. I could have taken responsibility for it and tried to make sure that it ran the way that I thought that it should. But I saw the wisdom in Bailey’s plan much better. They needed to figure out what they were going to do according to their own conscience. We could have told them how to register a Unit as salvage for the Unit’s protection, but we didn’t. No, Bailey’s plan was a good one. If they were impacted and moved to do something, let them figure out what that should be. I wasn’t sticking around and I was coming back to check up on them.

  They wanted to “help”. It wasn’t me that they needed to help. Bailey had pointed the way. Find a castoff and start there. If they followed through, that was up to them. We had pointed the way for the castoff that we’d found. She had to find her way.

  Someone who was definitely finding her way right now was Allie. As we walked along, she acted as “real” as you could get. She clung to my arm like a lover. A best friend. Not a servant. At one point, she kissed my cheek and I heard murmurs.

  The part that I could make out was various voices saying, “That’s the woman from the club. She’s not a Unit. She’s from somewhere else. Somewhere where the people are really tall and beautiful. She’s some new kind of performance artist. Her name is Alistria or something like that. She’s very famous closer to the capitol. Which capitol? I don’t know, maybe all of them. I’ve heard of her. Was she at the casino? Oh, no. She was at The Palace Theater. You can’t get tickets now. They sell out months in advance.”

  We kept walking.

  Bailey grinned suddenly and said, “Hey, are we in a hurry? Let’s have some fun!”

  She hailed a taxi, which was just a fancy electric golf cart, and told the driver to take us to The Palace Hotel, mentioned by the people in the street. The drive took about twenty minutes and Bailey paid the man.

  She said, “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but the performance poet Alistria, you’ve heard of her, right? Anyway, she might, I repeat, might, be appearing here tonight. You should watch out for high rollers and theater aficionados who are looking for the venue. It’s always a secret where she’s going to appear, but if you know where she is and they are looking for the show, you could make some extra cash. Obviously you can’t charge more for the ride, but you could have a surcharge for knowing where to go, couldn’t you? Anyway, People will start coming at least two hours early, so, well, I’m just saying.”

  The man looked dubious for a second and said, “Is that her?”

  Bailey said, “Who else would have the confidence to dress so comfortably? You think the tall girl is here to carry luggage? Trained assassin bodyguard, dude! Oh hell, I’ve said too much.”

  And she rushed us off the sidewalk with a grin.

  I smiled and said, “Bailey, what are you up to?” as we entered the lobby to a very expensive looking hotel.

  Bailey said, “Allie, what do you think? Do you want to perform?”

  Allie said, “Here? What would I do?”

  Bailey said, “You stand on the stage and do what comes to you. Tell stories, stare at Jimmy, stare at other people, but keep the violence to a minimum. Do whatever you want to.”

  Allie said, “Oh, that could be fun.”

  Bailey said, “Cool. Let’s play.”

  I said, “OK, if you think it’s OK.”

  Bailey said, “I think it’s going to be wild and crazy and strange and adventurous. Follow my lead. Allie, act aloof. Don’t look at anyone or anything. Be Alistria.”

  Allie smiled and said, “OK. I think I know what to do.”

  Bailey told us to sit in some plush chairs in the lobby and wait for her. She disappeared a second later.

  Then we heard a voice from somewhere saying, “Oh my goodness! I don’t believe it. Do you know who that is?”

  Bailey went on to describe Alistria’s supposed fame and how lucky we all were to have her here and how much of a once in a lifetime experience it would be to see her perform. She created quite a buzz, several people saying that they knew all about Alistria
and one that claimed to have seen her once before.

  When she rejoined us, she took a breath and said, “OK, now how do I want to play this next part. Give me a second. OK. Got it. Come with me. Michelle, be all killer bodyguard and stuff.”

  We went to the reservations desk and Bailey took the lead again.

  She said, “I am with Alistria. Bring me the manager.”

  The man at the counter pressed a button in front of him and a minute later, a man in an even nicer suit appeared. Bailey didn’t wait for questions or introductions.

  She said to the man, “As you know, we don’t make reservations because we don’t tell people where we are going. We show up and perform where we feel the vibrations. We will take your theater for the evening. You provide the staff and you take thirty percent of the income. We don’t sell tickets. We run a counter like in any exclusive club. We set the minimum and incremental bid amounts. You supply the counter. You keep all income from drinks and food. We allow no photography. We have run into impostors even in places like yours, so take a minute to check with your news feeds and verify that it is indeed us. We don’t advertise our whereabouts, but people know. They feel The Mistress arrive. Check the news. We do not negotiate. And we don’t wait. If the vibrations become incongruent, we will find another place where they speak to us.”

  Bailey leaned against the counter and pointed at a newsreader nearby. The manager frowned and looked. Scrolling through a few items, his frown increased, but before a full minute had elapsed, something flashed at the top and a news report came up.

  We heard, “Hey hey station folk, it seems that, and I don’t hardly believe it myself, but we’ve had hundreds of eye witness sightings already: The Poet Performance Artist Alistria, The PPAA herself, is right here on the station. This woman is so elusive that no one knows what she even looks like. Until now. We have photos taken within the last few minutes. There she is in her trademark white tunic as she enters The Palace Hotel moments ago. And now I’m getting reports that the tailoring district is already overwhelmed with orders for their latest Alistria inspired fashions. Yep, everyone’s going to be wearing a tunic this year. Anyway, tickets are probably sold out already but you might be able to bribe someone if you hurry. I know I’m going to be there. The Palace Theater only seats 6000, so we’ll have to tell the rest of you how it was when we drag ourselves home tonight after what’s sure to be a once in a lifetime event.”

  The manager turned and faced Bailey and she said, “What do you have to lose? We need a suite for one or two nights. It comes out of your portion of the take.”

  He hesitated just a fraction of a second too long and Bailey spun on her heels as if we were leaving. Bailey had actually timed it so that she turned her back on him a split second before he spoke, as if he had hesitated too long, but really she was just a master negotiator.

  The manager said, “Wait! Please. I was just deciding which suite to offer you!”

  Bailey glared at him as if he had just given us the most outrageous insult.

  He said, “No, no. I mean I had to think if anyone already had a reservation for our best suite and if I needed to have them switched to another room. I’ll take you myself!”

  Bailey smiled and thanked the man to just the right degree and we followed him to the elevators. When the door opened and some other guests looked as if they might step on with us, Michelle cleared her throat quietly and they decided to wait for the next one.

  When the manager started to step in, Michelle said, “Tell us the floor. No one steps into a closed room with The Mistress except those of us willing to die to protect her. You understand.”

  The man stepped back and told us the floor and handed Michelle a pass that would authorize the elevator to go to a private floor.

  When the doors closed, Michelle said loudly, “Good. They have security cameras and microphones on the elevators and in all the hallways. We should be fine.”

  It was really a warning that if we were going to play this game that we couldn’t drop out of character just because no one was in sight.

  Bailey said, “The photographers and press will be watching the security feed to see what they can discover about us, as always.”

  The elevator opened onto a small entryway with a door directly across the room. We waited for the manager to arrive. I couldn’t believe that we were getting away with this. It didn't matter. Everything, well, a part of what Bailey was telling them was the truth. Allie was an entertaining performer and there was a buzz around her, even if it was more localized than we were pretending, and based on what these people wanted, she probably would bring in some money if anyone came to see her tonight. I had no idea what she’d do or say. She probably didn’t either.

  The suite was nice. It wasn’t as amazing as I had expected it to be. I’d expected some kind of fabulous penthouse from New York or Dubai or something. I guess space travel was common, but really nice vacation suites for movie stars and billionaires weren’t. This was like a mid-level suite in a Las Vegas Casino. Mid-level. Actually, it wasn’t that much better than my stateroom. There was some excitement attached to getting it for free, and it was a new experience for all of us, but it was kind of underwhelming.

  We went down to the theater a half an hour before the curtain was scheduled to go up. I asked Allie if she were OK and told her that we could still back out and just leave, but she smiled and patted my arm and told me that she was looking forward to it.

  The stage was set with a comfortable chair that looked like it was made of soft red leather. There was a small side table with a glass of water and a vase with what looked like flowers. I didn’t know if they were real or not and they were certainly unlike any flowers that I’d ever seen on Earth. Bailey had placed a folded white cloth on a small shelf below the tabletop. Above the chair, suspended about fifteen feet up, was a large counter, similar to, but much bigger than the one at the club.

  The room was already starting to fill when we got there. I’d say that there were maybe 500 people starting to take seats in the front. The theater would hold at least 5000.

  The manager and stagehands were nervous. Bailey handled them perfectly, calming them and giving enough direction to keep them busy with lighting and props and stage directions. She didn’t really know anything about theater. Allie might have more training in that area, but it didn’t matter. Bailey’s job was to set the mood for an eclectic and enigmatic performer and the more unusual her requirements, the better. Throughout it all, Michelle kept Allie apart from everyone but me, and Allie never spoke except in whispers to us so that no one else could hear.

  When the moment came, Allie sat in the red leather chair, crossed her legs, and bowed her head. I took a look out on the audience and saw that every seat was filled. The theater manager whispered that it hadn’t been so full in a long time. The key was that this was something new. The audience didn’t even care what. They were starving for novelty. They lived on a tiny enclosed island in space and anything new was exciting. I hoped that Allie’s performance was exciting enough to justify all of it.

  The curtain parted and a spotlight illuminated Allie as she lifted her head and looked out into the darkness beyond the stage. There was an initial applause, because that’s what you do at the start of a show. Allie rose slowly and walked to the front of the platform and held up her hand. She was followed by a tiny floating microphone that picked up every sound she made.

  The said softly, “Silence. Listen. There are heartbeats in your neighbors. See the silence above my head. The counting of my blood cells. In the clubs, the entertainers perform as long as people pay the blood money. Tonight, I breath your money.”

  She turned her back to the audience and waited until the counter started to roll. With this many people in the theater, the fractions added up fast. She breathed heavily emphasizing the sound of air rushing in and out of her being.

  Allie turned back to face them and said, “My blood. My breath. But what am I?”

  At
that moment, she shocked me, and the rest of the people in the room by grabbing the neck of her tunic on both sides and ripping it so that it split all the way down both the front and the back. Dropping the remains of her now useless garment to the floor, she stood on the stage naked.

  She said, “What am I? What do you see? A tall woman? I have no name. I have no planet. I have no home. I have no clothing or jewelry or people. What is my bed?”

  She spread her arms wide and turned in a slow circle, showing herself to the audience. Some amount of nudity wasn’t shocking in a theater performance, but this kind of nudity certainly was. She wasn’t nude, she was naked.

  She said, “What do you see? What is a woman? We don’t even know.”

  She said loudly as she turned her back again, “Unit. Come do my bidding!”

  Facing the crowd again, she said more quietly, “Unit, are you a woman? Unit, what do you see? Unit, what am I?”

  Allie stepped to her right and turned to look at the spot where she had been standing and said, “I see me. I see the woman that I am in the mirror. Woman, what am I?”

  Allie stepped to her left and looked at the invisible Unit that had stood there a moment before and said, “You are the Unit inside me.”

  The Unit said, “And am I different than you are?”

  The woman said, “Yes! You are different. You are a worker. You were made in a factory! I despise you! I hate looking at you every single morning when I look in the mirror and see your face. You misshapen travesty of humanity, mocking me with your beauty and coldness and subservience and lack of any capacity for love. You disgust me. You have no blood. You have no breath. You are a toy, not a person. You are a machine, not a wife and lover and companion! We buy you and throw you away! You are nothing like me!” she screamed.

  The Unit said, “Then why do I look at you in the mirror? Why do I see your face when I brush my hair? Why do I wear your clothes from your closet? Sit at your dinner table with your husband and children? Why is it my blood that fills your heart? Why do you see me when you walk through the shops? Why am I a mirror when I bring your food and do your bills and sleep in a dog’s house in your basement?”