by Dave Gordon
Death became less of a worry to her after that. Her will to live was slipping from her. That was the most common cause of death down below. The sink. That was what they called it. People just sank until they were finally drowned in the cold, dark sewer of the Dives.
Siln returned to the dark alley deep in the Dives where her mother had lived out her final days. Her hunger and the numbing cold eventually pushed her into the open. She found herself topside in a dirty warehouse. Staying there would mean certain capture but she didn't care any longer. Near starvation led her to a desperate act.
Soliciting top side was the most hazardous activity a diver could engage in short of robbery. The act was tolerated to a degree when conducted by someone with credentials. It was a time-honored profession, after all. The punishment was death if an inhabitant of the Dives was caught at it. There were a hundred ways to get caught. Payment was purely optional; divers had no leverage whatsoever. It was the last refuge of the desperate.
Siln selected her best clothing. She pulled on a brightly-colored flexisuit that hugged her body. She donned a baggy button-up sweater to hide the suit until the time was right. The pants she chose were slim and tight in the waist but not provocative. Subtlety was of the utmost importance. Those interested in a person of her skills would make their desires known in a discreet way. Siln would unbutton her sweater to reveal the flexisuit that exposed every detail of her shape. A quiet conversation in a darkened café might follow. Siln might tell the person that she had fallen on hard times explaining she needed a sum of money for rent. She might get it, she might not. It largely depended on if the customer found out she was a diver. They might do that by asking to meet her at her apartment or asking her if they could use her glider. Admitting to not having those things exposed the truth. It wasn't really very hard to find out the truth. Mortal danger lingered at every turn after that.
The next few weeks were a trial. It was hard to maintain her clothes in the filthy warehouse she inhabited. The outfit was absolutely essential to her trade. Having decent clothes was an important part of masquerading as a topsider. Just obtaining a meal was hazardous. Her warehouse lair was hardly secure. She had to use the emergency escape she had crafted more than once.
She had to raise some cash if she ever wanted to move back to the relative safety of Abbair's compound. She had been largely unsuccessful. She had entertained several men and one woman, but only a few were willing to give her more than a decibar.
She drove herself on day after day. She wasn't sure why. Life held no pleasure. She tolerated it more than she enjoyed it. One day she almost ran into a man as he exited a tall sky scraper. The man apologized, but then took a second look at her. She walked to the reflective window of the building and pretended to fix her hair. She reached up to run her hands over her head and flexed her elbows back to reveal her figure. That was about as much as she could get away with in the open. She straightened her clothes and turned to the man.
“Hello,” she said innocently.
“I was on my way to lunch,” the man said.
“I haven't eaten yet, would you mind if I joined you?” That exchange would have been terribly forward under normal circumstances. Men and women usually met only by arranged introductions. The family would often be consulted prior to a face-to-face meeting.
“Please do,” the man said. Siln walked slightly in front as she led him on. They left the business district behind them. The buildings took on a well-used aspect. They entered a nondescript doorway under a sign saying, The Dineaway. Siln hesitated briefly to scan the room for potential danger. She headed for the rear of the restaurant in search of a secluded booth.
Siln unbuttoned her sweater as she sat saying, “It's quite warm in here.”
“I thought it was because of the company,” the man said smiling.
“Perhaps we should go someplace where we can talk about our mutual interests,” Siln said coyly.
“Might I suggest your apartment?” the smiling man said.
Crap, Siln thought. “I'm afraid that would not be possible,” she said. She tried to keep a straight face but this part always put her on edge. She could be exposed as a diver at any point.
“No matter,” he said. “There are other places.”
They ate a small lunch. Siln could have eaten much more, she hadn't eaten for two days. The man paid for their lunch. They exited and fled even further from the business district. Siln turned into an older, run-down hotel. She nodded to the desk clerk. He tossed a room key at her hiding his face as they passed.
She was very lucky. The encounter proved profitable. The gentleman offered to pay her back rent and a bit more for meals until the fire damage was repaired. She thanked him sincerely as they parted.
A few days later the same man ran across the street. He jogged over to say that he had been looking for her. He asked if the fire damage had been taken care of. She replied that it unfortunately had not. He offered his sympathies and suggested they have lunch. Instead of going directly to the hotel, as Siln expected, he actually took her to lunch. They went to a nice place in the business district. Siln looked out of place. It made her uncomfortable being so conspicuous, but she enjoyed the lunch very much.
“I don't have time for more conversation today but I would be pleased if you met me tomorrow at the restaurant where we first ate,” he said.
Siln was confused. She never had a lunch that did not conclude with an offer of more conversation. “I guess. Sure, yeah,” she said.
The man offered his thanks for the company as he rose. Siln became aware that she looked even more out of place without an escort. She rushed out of the restaurant to the relative safety of the warehouse. She didn't feel like working anymore that day. She tried to reconcile the events of the day. Could his request be more than what it appeared to be? Would he bring the Forces down on her? Why would he want to meet at the The Dineaway, he could sabotage her anywhere. It didn't add up. He was a good client, though. A free lunch! That had never happened to her. She resolved to meet him again. It was a long night. The persistent question of the meeting would not go away.
She dressed in the same outfit she had been wearing everyday for the last four months and steeled herself for the dangerous date she had made. It was a bit of a hike from the warehouse to the restaurant. She arrived a bit early not sure what to do. She couldn't go in without ordering anything. She couldn't just stand around waiting in front of the place, that would be too conspicuous. Finally she decided to walk in the direction of the business district in hopes of meeting her client. She met him just two blocks from the restaurant.
“Hello,” he said with a big smile.
“Hi,” Siln replied with a smile. The smile was not entirely faked. She was surprised at her pleasure in seeing him.
They chatted as they walked to the restaurant. Siln did not have much to offer since her life consisted of a dirty warehouse and plying her trade.
They entered the restaurant again and sat in a booth in the rear. The man said to order what she wished, so she ordered an actual beef hamburger. That was a terrible extravagance. The man just grinned all the more at the order. He ordered a modest lunch. He sat patiently as Siln devoured the sinfully huge, dripping sandwich.
The man finally sat up and reached for his purse. He pulled out an amount roughly equal to what he had given her at their last meeting.
He offered his hand and said, “My name is Christor.”
Siln was unsure what to do. No one ever exchanged their real names. “Really?” Siln said in surprise rather than doubt.
The man pulled out his credential card. The name listed was “Christor Fullman".
“Wow,” Siln said under her breath. She was taken completely by surprise. All she could think to do was stick out her hand and say, “I'm Siln During.”
“Really?” the man asked in jest as he shook Siln's hand.
Siln could not help herself. She said, “I don't have any credentials.”
“I
know,” Christor said. “You can take that money and leave or we can do what you want. We could go to the zoo. We could go to a holopark. Or, we could go have another conversation.” He tried to keep his preference hidden, but was not wholly successful.
Siln desperately longed for normal things. The zoo, a holopark, those things were out of her reach. Christor offered to grant her wishes. She was overcome with gratitude. It was a time of firsts. She said, “Let's go have a conversation,” just because she really wanted to.
The following weeks were surreal. Christor saw her very often and finally asked her to come stay with him. Siln rejected the offer at first out of fear that she would place him in danger. Christor persisted until Siln relented.
Siln experienced things she had only heard of after that. Simple things that every topsider took for granted. A bath, carefree days in the sun, a real bed. She almost forgot who she was, what she was. Then one morning she threw up. She thought it odd, but tossed it off. Two days later it happened again. A nagging fear grew to gripping anxiety, and finally to terror as days passed. The choices were all very bad for a pregnant diver. Getting an abortion was terribly dangerous due to the state of medical care down below. Having the baby wasn't much better. Trying to make a living with an infant was almost impossible. Her mom had become famous for doing it in style. Siln did not have her mom's flare for working topsiders, nor did she have her mom's looks. Christor became more and more concerned as she sank into despair. His constant pleading could not bring the truth out. Finally one day he made her sit in front of him as he knelt on the floor.
“Do you want to leave me, is that why you are so upset?” he asked.
“No,” Siln said with downcast eyes. She was afraid to look at him. She knew her life with him was drawing to a close. The only real happiness she had ever enjoyed was slipping away. She was beginning to show. Soon she would not be able to hide the truth.
“Look at me. Don't you know I love you?” he said holding her folded hands in his.
Siln's head snapped up, her eyes wide. “You do?” she said in stunned amazement. The only person who had ever said those words to her was her mother.
“Yes,” Christor said with a steady gaze. “I can't stand to see you like this. Please tell me what's wrong.”
Siln could no longer contain herself. All her years of hiding her emotions had not prepared her for this. A ragged cry escaped her lips as she threw herself at Christor. He caught her as they fell over backwards. “It's over. It's all over,” she cried out as she wept uncontrollably. She held him in an iron grasp until he forced his way out of her arms.
“Oh my God,” he yelled. “What's wrong?”
She screamed, “I'm pregnant.”
He sat up with surprise. “You are? That's great.”
“No it's not. It's the end,” she said as she fell into hard sobbing.
“The end of what?” he asked.
Siln knew Christor could not understand. He had no idea of what it meant to have no credentials. He had never been to the Dives. He probably didn't even know they existed. Siln said, “I can't have this baby with you. You would lose your credentials if we got caught. I can't do that to you. I have to go back.” She paused. “Because I love you too.” The confession sent her into heaving sobs. She had never allowed herself the freedom to cry freely. She hadn't cried out loud even at her own mother's death, but now the pain and sorrow poured out of her.
“We'll figure something out, it's okay. We'll make it work. Come on, it will be okay,” Christor repeated over and over. It took a long time for Siln to calm down to gentle crying. He held her for a long time. She didn't want to let go. It was all coming apart, she didn't want it to go.
The next few months were a somber time. A time of frank discussions, strengthening love, and determination. Siln knew how it would turn out in the end. There was only one path that led to happiness for her baby and Christor. It didn't include her.
The discussions around the birth centered on how to provide the best care possible while still maintaining their secret. A search requiring the most delicate and discreet inquiries revealed a hope. A friend of a friend. A woman who was known as a midwife ... a compassionate healer. The midwife was willing to serve even though it involved no small amount of personal danger. There would be no denying foreknowledge of the circumstances if things went wrong. Everyone involved shared the danger. There would be no simple expulsion for Siln were she caught. Yet for all the danger and pitfalls, it was still infinitely safer than giving birth in the Dives.
The midwife moved in with them as the day grew closer. Christor's aunt, by way of explanation. Siln had been in seclusion for months. A pregnant woman would invite too many questions. Siln endured the discomforts and tried to conceive of some other way out. Some way different than the way she knew it had to be. The solution never changed, it was the only way.
The birth had been more difficult than Siln thought it would be. She was afraid things might go terribly wrong, but then the most beautiful creature ever imagined by God was laid on her chest. The wondrous baby girl lay squalling as the umbilical cord was tied and the afterbirth completed. The baby was wrapped and presented to Siln. Siln experienced a joy she had never imagined. It was a gift beyond grace. The world stood still in that perfect moment.
Siln reveled in her role of mother to the most beautiful baby in the universe. The baby grew quickly. She took to breast feeding easily. But, in the back of Siln's mind was The Fact. It was only a matter of time. How much time? That was the question. The days turned to weeks and then to months. Siln began weaning the baby. Christor asked why so soon? Siln would only say she thought it was time and he didn't press her to explain in more detail. Time began to pull Siln down. It was no longer her friend. She couldn't stop the days from falling behind her.
At six months the baby was being fed entirely from the bottle. Siln had secretly been to the Dives several times to make the terrible arrangements. She began to barricade her heart with the walls that had existed before she found her love and savior. The thought of his anguish hurt her, but she would not be deterred. One day after Christor went to work as usual, she gathered her things and stuffed them into a dirty knapsack. It couldn't be clean and perfect or it would arouse suspicion. She might be held for ransom if she appeared to have any money. The nanny came at ten o'clock. Siln gave an envelope to the nanny and asked it be given to Christor when he got home. The envelope held a letter which had taken weeks to compose. It spelled out everything. All the reasons. The plain, horrible facts. She died a little as she turned to leave the glistening apartment. Neither Christor nor the baby would be safe as long as Siln could be found. Christor could explain how the child had been abandoned, how he had rescued it. The genetics tests could be trouble but there were ways around that. The baby would inherit his impeccable credentials. They would live a good life, but only if Siln was never found. They could link her to the baby in an instant with a simple test. No, she had to leave. Not just the city, not just the country, but the world. Siln left behind her loves, her life, everything she had ever known. She left for a life that made the Dives look like a life of luxury. She vowed to someday return, if only for a glimpse of her loves. Now she returned triumphant, able to be all that she could not have been for the last ten years. What would she arrive to find? Christor married, her little girl a complete stranger? The Caveat soared over the great lakes and began a slow descent. The city came into view. Siln had a panicky feeling. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe they should just get some coffee and leave ... but she knew she would not leave. She would see this through. This was her chance, her only chance. Peace and happiness did not exist for her anywhere if not here. Waiting is where the demons abide. Doubt, fear, self loathing, they all found their way to the surface from between the seconds that crawled by. Siln had done many things, been many things, none of them worthy of pride. The question she asked herself was, could she still be saved?
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Chapter 11
Normal
She didn't feel right. She didn't know herself, as if she had on someone else's skin. She had been playing rich on Gamma One. Now she was playing normal. It was a much harder game. All you needed to play rich was money. You had to be normal to act normal. She was not normal in the least. She looked down upon a street that she had once walked in desperation. She watched the gliders come and go through a clear blue sky. She had once fled her home through these skies fearing destruction at any second. The full-length window that occupied one end of their two-bedroom apartment looked out upon overwhelming normalcy. Not much had changed. The sky was still filled with immense buildings. The holovision still pumped out inanities. There was still a war somewhere. There were still famous people she didn't care about. There was one big thing that wasn't the same. She was up here instead of down there, down below. A warm bed instead of cold rock. Thousands of people were rotting in the frigid underground sewers while she kneaded the plush carpeting with her toes. Alpha One, the model of technical achievement, but it had a dark underside. There was almost no crime topside. It was a beautiful, perfect world where peace and prosperity ruled the day. The ugly things, the evil things, those were banished to the deep caverns that riddled the planet like the rotting roots of an ancient tree. The tree stood in the sun, majestic and proud, but corruption and decay were at its foundation. Some day the tree would suddenly topple. People would mourn the loss of such beauty while rot and corruption lay all around them ... under their feet. She didn't feel right.
“Man, this sure beats space travel!” Van said as he exited the shower. They had become accustom to seeing each other in various stages of undress a long time ago. The Caveat was too small for privacy.
“Well, live it up, space boy. We'll be out of here after I take care of some business.” She had given up any hope of a happy reunion. She was now shooting for a brief encounter to explain her long absence followed by some awkward conversation, winding up with a brief farewell.
