by M E Wise
I begrudgingly put my lab coat back on. “It’s been a long day. Why doesn’t everyone go home and breath?” Laine again played the diplomat. I nodded and again removed the lab coat and hung it in my cubby. I grabbed my set of tablets and made sure my bag had all of my thumb drives in it. The weather outside was rainy and contributing greatly to our enclosed moods. Some sunshine would do the world some good right now.
“We’ll see you Monday. Take a full weekend!” Laine was bubbly and too sugary for my tastes.
We exchanged an awkward shoulder hug and I made my way out of the building. I turned around to see the two ladies arguing hotly in the windows above the walk. Why do people do that to themselves? They get together, fall in love and later find every reason to test the foundation of their relationship over and over again. It’s like people don’t understand what they do it all for. Life was lonely being a teenager in college, much less an ivy league school. “Hi! I’m Dae and probably significantly smarter than you!” Isn’t the icebreaker most guys are looking for. Especially coming from someone as young as me.
So my usual weekend is binging on soda and adventure flicks. Mom would call on the video chat system and I would scurry over and act like I’m bored. It made her feel good to think I wasn’t having a great time without her. The moment for me was turning into a frenzied battle with the clock. I missed home. I missed Mom and I really missed my Dad. Harvard stinks.
The tram ride to the dorms was the usual sweaty smelling commute. I walked timidly into the hallowed halls and praised God that I had my own room, one lovely factor attached to being too young to be assigned older dorm-mates. I stopped by the vending machine and got some popcorn and multiple cans of assorted drinks. My room was clean, I never had much else to do aside from research and the like; the lab paid me decently and cleaning was therapy. I sat down on my modest bunk and noticed the blinking red light on my message recorder. I clicked it.
“Ms. O’Shea…” Dr. Drakos’ voice hung in the air, “I regret to inform you that the lab will be closing, effective immediately. You have been a consummate professional under the circumstances and I wish you luck in your future endeavors.”
Just like that the message ended. I felt betrayed but I wasn’t shocked. Studying people with a stigmatizing condition was only good if the headlines read or shown something people could relate too. Guilty advertising resulted in turned channels. The college didn’t allow us to recruit openly for fear the outed people may suffer some uncomfortable attention. The condition fought us every step of the way, the populace either hid it or chased it into the shadows and the most qualified settled for it to be an anomalous hiccup as elusive as Bigfoot. Victims were isolated and such a small unseen portion of the populace at large that nothing would be done. There was no money in it.
Mom’s call buzzed in the background. I picked up the line and sobbed immediately. “I want to come home! Please tell me that is ok! Please let me go home.”
“Of course baby-girl! Of course.” Mom began crying too without even knowing what had driven me this far. It could have been anything! A boy, a bad grade, or something trivial but even I know that is silly knowing me. I carried so much into this school and never put any of it down. I added more and more until eventually I wasn’t going to be able to stand it anymore. I was burnt out and right now, my childhood room in that boring Maine seaside home was exactly what I needed. I could finish my bachelor’s with honors in some small college there and be content with what I accomplished here. At least that is what I will keep telling myself until it changes.
Lost Tales of Reign
A Day in the Life chapter 2
Rain
“How long has it been?” My ex-boyfriend asked over the video phone.
“A year.” I said annoyed.
“Do you think about what would have happened if you’d stayed?” John was boring then and even more boring now. Mom introduced us shortly after I left Harvard. I’m guessing he was supposed to be made of glue and the sticking point on never leaving again. “Nope.” I was being short and I didn’t care. My next call was going to be to my mother and the obvious question would be, “why the hell would you give that lame guy my number? I’m on Mars for crying out loud!”
“I thought you hated Princess Diana?” John was asking pointed questions and should be careful he didn’t fall on them.
“I do. Just not as much as I don’t like other things.” His face twisted. “You should move on.”
He intelligently fought the urge to dig a further hole and left the conversation with a wave. Video phones were great for not dragging out exits. Many times I end calls to Dr. Drakos with a single fingered salute. A lot has changed in the last four years; my attitude is just one of many. After receiving my second bachelors I got the belated phone call from the good doctor about working for her on a clinic on Mars within a new colony called Artemis II. Not only do I get to work on the Halfer Condition supported by her practice but I get to work towards my masters as an intern. Working for a devil is common in the science and medical fields. When they cross fields, that devil pleads its case to become a god.
I dialed the line to my mother. She answered while trying to cover the camera feed awkwardly with her hands. I could see John in the background sipping coffee! “Seriously! Mom! I’m 22 and make my own choices. That jackass needs to sever the ties and move on!” John Thomas James, the boy with three first names switched crossed legs and ignored me. “Dae, I didn’t raise you to talk that way!” Mom sheepishly bit back. “Again I’m 22 and I talk how I want!” This was a waste of time; she obviously hadn’t broken up with him yet. “Goodbye Mother!”
“Don’t go!” Marta O’Shea begged with the best of them. “I’m sorry, it was a cheap ploy. The boys an idiot who isn’t bright enough to see the light he lost.” John was dubious to the insult. “I’ll send him on his way. I hope you are well out there in the cold of space.”
“I’m not cold Mom. And yes send him off with a to-go cup!” The two would most likely regroup another time. “I love you Mom.” She smiled brightly. “I love you too Dae! Be safe.”
I slid the tablet screen closed. Laine held in some laughter. These close quarters conditions were limited on privacy. We had submitted for more Home² domiciles to be added to the clinic but have yet to pass all the corporate red tape to get the approval. Dr. Drakos was right about the opportunity here in space. Everything was developing and so long as the corporations found a valuable angle on the product they funded us well. The Mineral War left several of the founding corporations bankrupt. MCD Ltd was the prime corporation to fail, taking the little known fall for Red Planet Industries, who maintained Mars like its own piggy bank. They controlled the flow of trade but given the results of the Mineral War, stiffer regulations allowed for Practical Powers and Imperial Dynamics to build their own facilities.
“The second level of the domicile should arrive on location in a week or so.” I overheard Laine tell her wife Di. “That’s a relief! Finally, some progress.” Diana Drakos would be nothing without dramatic hyperbole. The Red Planet Discoveries sign was being wired into the walkway outside. I found it completely silly considering that people weren’t roaming the streets on a planet they can’t survive outside of environment suits on. Again classic Diana Drakos. A large freighter trailer was converted into a lengthy lab. Another was made into patient housing. So far we had one regular patient, young Faith; Di and Laine’s adopted daughter.
The clinic supported many of our efforts. Mars was still hurting for committed professionals to make Mars their mainstay. So a doctor, even a conceited and brash one was handsomely sought out. The Mineral War left a lingering uncertainty on most people who would consider the life out here acceptable. Even in 2096, about twenty years after the Martian Conflict, people could be heard whispering in corners of the Big Dirty; or Diggtown officially, about shady secrets and Martian sovereignty. The Big Dirty was the original mining colony on Mars and ever bit what the name
suggested. A dirty sprawl of sites with rundown freighters converted into spaces for debauchery and local escapism. Our group wouldn’t be caught dead there!
I spent most of my time calibrating and re-calibrating equipment while running supply errands between our location and the Crimson Cross Headquarters; a loosely connected sister of the Red Cross. I’ve heard there are great opportunities with the new Red Cross Galactic that served with the Orbital Guard Corps. If my credentials held up who knows maybe that’s a future for me.
“Dae!” Cried Dr. Drakos. “Dae where are we on that list of patients?” The Doctor was pressing me on patients again. I’ve told her a hundred times that Halfer families were hard to contact and even with the registered families, getting them off world was a new challenge. A campus magazine fell out of a drawer as I reached for my contacts file. Is HOT the Halfer Solution? was splashed on the cover of Popular Science. All three members of the Think Tank were on the cover and gave their views of my paper in the article inside. I wasn’t even approached until a year after I left Harvard for comment in a follow up article.
I pushed the rage back and proceeded to look up what Dr. Drakos had requested. “Currently, North America has ten thousand registered Halfer families. I have tried to contact about one hundred. Still waiting on confirmation from one hundred.” I was being facetious. “Well then, it seems you have some calls to make!” Di was a tortuous boss. I had posted on known Halfer forums the basis of our study and the potential of finding out more on the condition. We hadn’t worked out completely what was their benefit other than a trip off world and some spending cash. The level of harassment they would endure just to get through Luna customs and beyond the OG checkpoints was immeasurably unrewarding.
“I’ll get right on that.” I balked at her. “And can you cross campus for some more rebreather filters? You’re a dear, thanks!” She added to the mountain.
“Why not?” I stormed away from my desk and went right for the pressurized doors of the airlock. I cussed under my breath as I worked on the bulky gear just to travel less than a mile across campus to the main building for supplies we already had. Troy and Faith, the Drakos’ adopted children were watching old nature shows on the monitor in the back room. They waved as I sealed the inner doors and waited for a green light on the second set of doors. “Ding!” I called out loudly as it changed.
The Campus as we called it was little more than a Home² showroom back dropped by Martian scenery. Artemis II was twenty years old and littered a five-mile radius of the red planets surface. By littered I mean nothing was connected in any significant way. We hadn’t established much of roads or transit. Everyone had their own little ways to get around. Some had probe ships and other’s like us had Pressure Buses that look like rolling hotdogs! Or elongated eggs if you were so inclined to hate the hotdog description. I climbed into our overly dusty vehicle and clinched my eyes as the airlock purged most of the dirt I brought in with me. The noise was loud.
The battery and system checks took a few minutes and in my typical routine I found some prerecorded music and set it to the highest possible volume. The clean air symbol turned green and I removed my squared helmet. Seals’ Crazy played over the speakers inside. Such a timeless song. I primed the motors and sped off at a whopping 12 miles an hour.
The view was always the same. Nothing changed on Mars quickly. The beautiful canopy of unpolluted sky though was a major bonus. Huge shipping vessels streaked the sky like slow-moving shooting stars. It wasn’t so bad being out here. Mom freaked out when she heard I traveled alone. I did to at first, until I realized that The Big Dirty featured the largest Sweet³ facility in existence. They pedaled in all things indulging. Sex-bots and any kind of entertainment credit could buy was only a site away. There was a procession of rovers rolling in dirt slinging lines after each shift change. And the Orbital Guard had a post at the central complex to boot. I was a boring, argumentative woman, with a mind on the future.
I arrived at the irregular shaped facility. The landing pads were nearly clear. I parked the Pressure Bus with the registration Doc-Di in the usual spot. The Mall held the offices of Practical Powers, Home², and Red Planet Industries; as well as many small vendors off-setting the major vendors like Martian Parcel Shipping and the Crimson Cross. I cleared the airlock and was waiting for reception.
“Identification and state your business.” The voice commanded.
“You can see me Stephen.” I wasn’t one for these formalities. I knocked on my helmet and looked at the camera.
“Dae, you know I have to follow protocol.” Stephen was an anal, goggle-wearing control freak.
“O’Shea, SD MD; requesting Mall privileges.” I stared at the red light of the airlock as if I could change it with my mind. And it went green and I chuckled. “Thanks, Stephen.”
I stepped into the private clean-air vacuum and let it filter me of outside contaminants. This five minutes always felt like an eternity. I really needed to work on my patience. Years of influence from Dr. Drakos had steeled my spine but lowered my tolerance. I needed the development after Dad died. I guess I over compensated. And five minutes contained, lead to moments of self-reflection like this! “Get me out of this airlock please!” I called out.
“Is there a problem ma’am?” Came an OG technician monitoring the intake chambers.
“No! Sorry.” I said under my breath. “Just in a hurry.”
The filter screen read clean and I left my environment gear to be further cycled. I strolled into a second lock and slid into a jumpsuit that read visitor hugely across the back. I hung my credentials around my neck and looked to the credit ID surgically glowing under my skin. “Get the filters and get out.” I said to myself. The door slid open from the reception area and the Mall was slightly busy. And entirely too bright!
Signs redundantly hung everywhere. The central complex felt like one big advertisement. Different elevator music played from each enclosure and competed in your head for space in your ears. It was all some sensory overload compared to the confined clinic. I didn’t bother making many connections other than the formal ones needed to stay breathing on an alien planet. So I much preferred not getting caught in some gossiping tirade of a lonely stationed Guard, clerk or like-titled personnel. Some eyes followed me though but they knew better. One ounce of harassment could suspend their contracts and send them packing for Earth. This balanced sexual atmosphere may have been the fulcrum for Dr. Drakos decision to base her operations on Mars.
“What can CRC do for you today…” the Crimson Red Cross attendant searched my credentials for a name, “Ms. O’Shea?”
“The usual, clean filters.” I waved my wrist over the credit reader linked with Dr. Drakos account with the facility. The monitor fed a series of commodities available across the screen. I tapped on the filter file and made my selections. I didn’t make any more efforts to talk to the attendant. “Your acquisitions will be waiting on dock C.” He looked at me with a polite but goofy smile. I turned and walked away.
“Strictly business.” A confident voice addressed me. I turned to find the source. “Have you ever considered signing up for a tour with the Orbital Guard? They need capable members of all fields of study.” A lieutenant in a pressed uniform was pitching his service. “I think I’m over qualified.” I dismissed his unwanted inquiry. He paced beside me while I made my way back toward the reception area. “I’m very aware of your credentials, future Doctor SD O’Shea.” I was stumped now. How did he have my information? I stopped to listen. “The Orbital Guard are very interested in the study of off world conditions and I am vested with finding many who would join the creed and help with those pursuits.”
“Listen; Lieutenant Reed,” his badge read, “I’m not military bred nor am I interested in joining the Guard who relentlessly pursue and punish people with off-world conditions no matter how invested they are!” My attitude surprised him.
“That isn’t our sole purpose and for many it is an unfortunate business. I am o
nly suggesting that minds such as yours could help understand and re-evaluate the Guard’s positions on scenarios just like this.” His vagueness and the tempered ability to avoid using the term Halfer for fear of its stigmatizing connotation was irritating.
“Good day officer.” I ended the conversation and abruptly left him standing there. I thought about his offer in the out processing. I thought about how the officer had my information on the trip to dock C. I thought even more about what the implications of that meant as the loaders secured my pallet of rebreathers. The unceremonious trip back to Red Planet Discoveries was filled with even more pondering on the sickening feeling I had in my stomach that an agency in so much control, with so much authority had me in their headlights.
I offloaded the filters one by one into an air-locked locker to the storage domicile. The lights of the clinic cast a yellowish glow outside of the air-lock inside. I watched outside as the shift change was occurring all around. I finished changing my uniform and left the cramped entry room. Dr. Drakos and her family were all comfortably watching more of the same nature shows from earlier. A Venus fly-trap nabbed an unknowingly baited fly in its catch. I watched on the large screen as the fly wriggled but couldn’t escape. What would a fly think at that moment?
