by Rinelle Grey
© 2013 by Rinelle Grey
www.rinellegrey.com
All rights reserved.
Cover design by
THE PHONE BUZZED ON THE bedside table. Rubbing his eyes, Tyris rolled over to pick it up. The bed was empty beside him, the covers thrown back. Trying to focus, he stared at the message on the screen, ignoring the little niggling feeling in the back of his head telling him that something wasn’t quite right.
“Appreciate the help, Tyris. Hope you enjoy these tickets to the show next weekend as thanks.” It wasn’t signed, but he knew who it was from. A tingle of anticipation ran down his spine.
He’d got them.
Tyris smiled and lay back on the pillows, resting the phone on his knees. An image of the screen projected above it, and he swiped his fingers across it several times, checking for the best space fares. Finding a good deal from Urslat to anywhere else in the galaxy wasn’t easy these days, what with the scarcity of anysogen, but price was no object.
He’d thought long and hard about how to top the anniversary gift Milandra had given him last year. A slow smile curved his lips. He’d been so disappointed that he couldn’t make the shuttle races on Milat, but his leave application had been denied. He didn’t know Milandra had already arranged with General Harrington for him to have the time off, and had already bought the tickets in advance. Sometimes, being married to a general’s daughter had its advantages.
He hadn’t even minded that they’d spent five of the seven days shopping. The race had been amazing. Hard to top. But he’d done it. Exclusive, invitation only tickets to a show by her favourite designer on the faraway moon of Pilar. He didn’t understand what was so wonderful about making new clothes out of old ones from three decades ago, but that didn’t matter. Milandra loved the stuff. Luckily, the designer’s assistant owed him a favour.
Tickets booked, he set the phone on the nightstand, jumped out of bed, and went looking for his wife.
He found Milandra in the kitchen staring into the freezer. The picture she presented, bending over, white silk dressing gown lifting to show most of her thighs, made him smile. He crossed the room and kissed the back of her neck as she stood up, sliding his arms around her waist. “Good morning,” he said huskily.
Milandra laughed, and twisted in his arms to return his kiss. “Good morning to you, too.” She wriggled out of his arms and poured herself a glass of orange juice. “There’s a letter for you.”
Her words sent a sudden chill down Tyris’s spine. “There is?” His voice sounded faint, even to his own ears.
Milandra nodded towards the kitchen bench where she’d thrown the mail. Tyris stared at it from across the room. The pile contained mostly junk mail, but hidden under the stack was an official-looking letter with a government seal.
Why did bad news still come by mail when for years everything else had arrived by e-mail?
He’d been dreading this moment for three days, since the announcement of the government’s radical new plan to combat the chronic overpopulation.
It wasn’t the first time the Colonies had faced this problem. Thirty years ago, before the discovery of anysogen, when they were limited to the half a dozen planets they could reach via slow shuttles, they’d tried to limit population growth by suggesting that people stop having so many children. They paid scientists to draw up frightening graphs of how quickly food would run out.
It hadn’t worked.
Just as they’d begun tossing around ideas for more serious controls, anysogen and faster than light travel had been discovered. This opened up an enormous number of new planets, and in the rush to populate them, the government had encouraged people to have more children. Their population boom had rivalled their expansion.
Until they realised the anysogen was running out. Then they were back to square one.
Worse off really, because almost all of the farming had been moved off Urslat onto distant farming planets. No one knew how they would feed the billions of people who called the central planet home when they ran out of anysogen.
Already, the food shortages and overcrowding caused more and more crime problems every day. Milandra had laughed when the government announced that anyone with a criminal record would be denied the choice to have children. It solved all the issues so neatly—reducing the population by targeting the most troublesome areas.
Tyris had been unable to join in her mirth. Even though he recognised the neatness of the solution, a sudden fear had clutched at his heart. After nearly four years of marriage, he’d never told Milandra about the incident in college.
He’d never discussed it with anyone.
Milandra took a mouthful of orange juice and slid a meal into the microwave. The click of the door closing made him jump.
“Are you going to open it?” She nodded to the letter. Then she stopped and looked more closely at his face. “Is everything okay? You look pale.”
He didn’t trust his voice, just nodded. And since nothing would be gained from putting it off, he took a deep breath, and crossed the room.
Milandra leaned back on the bench, tossing her blonde curls over her shoulder. The belt on her silk dressing gown slid open, revealing the lacy negligee that showed off her slim figure to perfection. Moments ago, that sight would’ve stirred his desire, but now it barely registered.
He slid his finger under the flap of the envelope, pulled out the folded paper and scanned its contents.
“What is it?” Milandra asked. “Are you being deployed again? Hopefully not to one of the outer planets. Last time you came back from there I swear it took a week of showers before all the dirt washed away.” She wrinkled her nose.
If only this letter contained something as mundane as deployment orders. The words blurred in front of his eyes. He skimmed through them, even though he already knew what they would say—
“Report to your doctor at 3:15 this afternoon for insertion of a contraceptive chip. Damage or removal of this chip will constitute a federal offence, and may be subject to penalties up to and including incarceration.”
This couldn’t be happening. Not to him. He hadn’t killed or hurt anyone. He’d been trying to do what was right. And where had it gotten him? He wiped one hand on his pants, but it still felt damp. The letter slipped from his fingers and fluttered to the floor.
Milandra put down her orange juice and picked up the letter. “There must be a mistake,” she said, skimming the document. “You don’t have a criminal record. I’ll talk to Daddy and get this fixed.”
“It’s not a mistake.” His voice echoed hollowly.
“What?” Milandra’s eyes widened and her hand fluttered to her chest.
“I participated in a protest in college.” Tyris closed his eyes briefly. He didn’t expect Milandra to understand.
“You went to a protest? Are you insane?” Milandra stared at him. “Why would you do something like that? What could possibly be important enough for you to risk everything?”
What indeed? “They withdrew the pensions for those who fought in the Off World Wars.” A flicker of anger stirred in his belly at the thought, but he squashed it. He couldn’t afford those feelings—they’d already cost him too much.
“You took part in a protest for that?” Milandra’s voice rose a notch, and Tyris winced. “Do you have any idea what this could mean for us? For me?” She covered her face with her hand. “What will Daddy say? What will the papers say? How could you be so thoughtless, Tyris? Why would you do something so pointless? That’s what we have a Justice Department for! They appealed the decision and reinstated the pensions.”
Because we protested. But he didn’t dare say the words aloud. �
�They shouldn’t have done it in the first place,” he mumbled. “Those people fought under government orders. They earned those pensions.”
“What do you care? Because of your Uncle Max? He didn’t even need a pension. He had more than enough money of his own.” Milandra shook her head in disbelief, her mouth a thin, angry line.
How could he explain to her? Explain that while his Uncle Max had never wanted for money, the war had broken him. The guilt, the nightmares, the constant drinking to dull the pain. So many people had come back from that war broken. They would never be able to work again. And without those pensions, children would go hungry, families would be homeless.
He’d already paid dearly for his part in the protests. Ten years ago it had nearly cost him his position in the Space Force. Now it was going to cost him again. But he wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if he hadn’t spoken up.
Had he made any real difference? He hadn’t been the only protestor. The outcome probably would have been the same without his presence.
He let out a deep sigh. “I don’t know.”
Milandra stared at him. “You don’t know? What kind of answer is that?”
“Look, does it really matter? You didn’t want kids anyway. Last time we talked about it, you said that you liked our life the way it was. Just us.”
Milandra had always been the one to say that they weren’t having children. Building up her career took all her time. What was left, she wanted to enjoy. He’d accepted her answer, even though he’d always thought she would change her mind.
Milandra’s eyes were cold. “Does it matter? How can you even ask that? Everyone is going to know. I won’t be able to look my friends in the eyes anymore.”
“Don’t tell them.” Even as the words left his mouth, he knew Milandra wouldn’t see it so simply.
“You want me to lie? Really? I’m a public figure, Tyris. People dig into my past. It will come out.” Milandra’s nose tilted up, the way it always did when she talked about her TV show. As though it made her a star.
Tyris shrugged, the movement stiff. “So what? So people will know we’re never going to have kids. It’s not like they couldn’t guess that anyway.”
“They’ll know you have a criminal record,” Milandra finished. “This will destroy everything I’ve dreamed of since I was a little girl. I’ve worked so hard to get where I am, and this could bring it all tumbling down in an instant. Can’t you see that?”
“Come on, Landy, it was just a little protest, for a good cause even. It’s not like I murdered someone.”
Milandra didn’t even seem to hear him. “We’ve been married for three years, God, four years next week. How could you keep this from me?”
Tyris folded his arms. “I didn’t tell you about it because I knew you’d react like this. You’re blowing it out of proportion. The truth is that this will change nothing in our lives.”
“Maybe not in your life. But when this comes out, it could ruin mine.”
“Celebrities have scandals all the time,” Tyris said. “It’ll blow over. Besides, you always said that any publicity, even bad publicity, would still bring in new viewers. You can use this, can’t you? Make a point of it. There are a lot of people out there who will be angry at this decision. Work with it.”
Milandra’s brow wrinkled in thought. Then she shook her head. “No, it’s too late. If you’d told me, even just a week ago, I could have worked with it, but not now. The show with my initial reaction to the situation aired last night. Besides, my viewers aren’t the sort to be dealing with this issue themselves. They don’t want to be sympathetic to criminals.”
Her words cut. “So I’m a criminal now?”
“What do you think Tyris? You’re forbidden to have kids. You’re going to have a contraceptive chip implanted, whether you like it or not. This sort of thing just doesn’t happen to people like me!”
“It’s not happening to you. It’s happening to me.” Anger bubbled in Tyris until he lost his usual sense of self control and said the words he’d been avoiding for years. “Can’t you stop thinking about yourself for one second and realise that I’m hurting here too?”
Milandra stared at him. “You’re hurting? You should have thought about that before you went to a protest.”
“I should have known you wouldn’t understand. It doesn’t matter. Let’s just forget about it, okay?”
Milandra stared at him. “I can’t forget about this. This changes everything.”
The complete lack of emotion in her voice scared him. Spurred him to action. “Look, I’m sorry Landy. I should have told you. But we can work this out. Can’t we?” He reached for her hands, but she backed away, shaking her head. The fear growing in the pit of his stomach intensified.
“I... I can’t right now, Tyris.” She shook her head again.
This couldn’t be happening. He searched for the right words, the ones that would fix this.
“Daddy will have a fit,” Milandra said quietly to herself. “But he’ll get over it. I can stay there for a while until I decide…”
This sounded serious. Milandra didn’t make plans. She blew up, let off steam, stormed out. Then when she calmed down, they worked things out.
“Landy, are you leaving me?” He hated the way his voice sounded.
She didn’t even flinch. “I don’t have any other option, Tyris. I’m not giving up everything I ever worked for.”
Tyris licked his lips. His mouth felt like sawdust.
Milandra tied the belt around her dressing gown and grabbed her purse. “I’m never going to forget you, Tyris.” Her voice wavered, and he wondered if she was about to cry. Before he could reach for her, she whirled around and ran out of their apartment.
Tyris stared after her, flinching when the door slammed.
He took a step towards the door. He wanted to go after her, to try to make her see reason, but he stopped himself. She wasn’t even dressed. She’d be back. Hopefully she’d be a bit calmer. Maybe they could discuss this then. They could sort it out—they had been married for four years.
It couldn’t be over that quickly.
He paced the room, anxiety crawling along his veins, making every part of his body restless. He couldn’t imagine life without Milandra. He wouldn’t imagine life without Milandra. He didn’t want the drama of meeting people, dating, and trying to find someone whose life fitted with his. There had to be a loophole, some way to win her back…
Life had always just fallen into place for him. His parents paid for a good school, and he’d achieved high marks with little effort. Since childhood, he’d dreamed of being a pilot, of flying a spaceship. The only thing that had ever gotten in his way had been that stupid protest. Fortunately, General Kendal, a friend of his Uncle Max, pushed for the board to accept his application.
He’d met Milandra in his first year in the Space Force, when she’d been visiting her father. Their romance had been one of those whirlwinds everyone talked about, sweeping him up in its inescapable vortex. She’d been everything he hoped for in a wife. So free and vibrant, so focused on what she wanted to achieve in life. They’d had so much in common.
They still did. This was just a glitch. Temporary. He’d find a way around it.
She had every right to be angry. He should’ve told her years ago, but he knew she’d react like this. He’d just hoped she’d never find out—and without this damn law change she wouldn’t have.
He sat down, flicked on the TV, and stared at the news of protesters in the Urslat streets. He shook his head. They didn’t even care about it going on their records anymore. They had nothing left to lose.
The video feeds switched from country to country, the images all the same. The numbers were too great. When Space Force officers tried to disperse the protestors, the situation escalated into riots.
The intercom buzzed, and he jumped up. Milandra must have left her key card behind when she flounced out. He tried to keep the smile off his face, so she wouldn’t he
ar it in his voice. If she thought he was laughing at her, she’d be furious.
He pressed the button. “Landy?”
“Why would I be Landy? Doesn’t she have a key card?” Kerit’s voice responded.
Tyris sighed and buzzed his brother in.
When he opened the door, Kerit thrust two bottles of soda into his hands. “Hey, bro. Put those in the fridge.” He walked through to the living room and threw himself onto the couch, plopping his feet up on the coffee table. He picked up a half-eaten bag of chips Tyris had left out last night and tasted one experimentally. He shrugged then munched noisily.
Finally, he looked over at Tyris, still standing in the doorway. His eyes narrowed, and he stopped, handful of chips half way to his mouth. “What’s up, Ty? Something wrong?”
“Milandra walked out on me.” He needed to tell someone, and there wasn’t anyone he felt closer to than his brother, despite their differences. He lightly touched the jade dolphin hanging at his neck. “Guess the luck doesn’t work for me.”
“Give it time, bro. The dolphin works in mysterious ways.”
Tyris gave a laugh. His brother was firmly convinced the dolphin had brought him luck. He didn’t believe in that kind of thing. He believed in things he could see. But he liked the charm because it reminded him of the bond he had with his brother.
“Maybe this will work out for the best somehow,” Kerit suggested. “What happened anyway?”
Tyris put the drinks on the coffee table and sat down opposite Kerit, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “I’ve been banned from having kids.”
Kerit winced. He reached for one of the soda bottles and took a swig. “That protest thing? I can’t believe that’s still following you around. Can’t you get them to take it off your record?”
Even though he was stressed, Tyris smiled at his little brother. He reached for the other soda and took a mouthful. “I don’t have that much clout. I’d have to do something pretty impressive to have that one wiped.”
“Well, do something impressive then. You’re always going around doing impressive stuff.” Kerit waved a hand. As though it were that simple.
