Force

by A.R. Rivera

  Strange Day

  Every inch of my skin feels like it’s burning as my body reaches normal core temperature. But I’m still shivering.

  I’ve also got this feeling... it reminds me of the night in World Two, as I stood on my alternate father’s driveway peering into the dark. I feel like I’m being watched.

  Cracking open one eye, I learn that I’m right. Enanda is sitting at the foot of the bed holding a large flask and a small cup. The tattered off-white robes she wore before are now gone. She’s in a simple woolen frock that covers her from neck to ankle. She’s young with small almond-shaped eyes. And too thin—I can see every tendon in her cupped hand.

  Instincts tell me to shoot upright, take a defensive position, but thinking and doing are two different things.

  “You’re still cold” She looks down in a way that makes me think her cheeks are going to flush pink but they don’t.

  “You are more handsome than I expected.”

  The air in the room feels a lot warmer. I take off my second glove and slowly sit up. Enanda hands me a metallic mug. I thank her and inhale the steam rising from the top. It fills my nose and lungs with its’ warm, earth-like scent.

  “If you wish to wait, my father and brother will be back soon.” Her small voice trails off before she clears her throat. “Do you like Virilustea? It is my mother’s recipe.”

  “I’m sure it’s good,” I lie. The tea looks... thick and—is that a hair floating on top of the chunky green and brown foam? “Thank you.”

  She’s just sitting there, staring at me, engrossed in something behind me, maybe. I turn back to see, but there’s only the plain wall.

  Her studious gaze was awkward after two heartbeats. Now it’s downright rude. Not that I’m in a position to say anything. So I palm the warm mug, wanting to absorb the heat and toss the contents but I have no idea what to say to this attentive girl. I force myself to take a sip. Impossibly, it tastes worse than it looks.

  My body tries to reject it and anything else that may come up after. I lock my lips together—Dear God—I need water. Better yet: liquor. Anything to get rid of the bitter, stringy, disgusting “tea” that tastes like it was brewed from fertilized lawn clippings. The bottom of my boot probably tastes better.

  Against all odds, I gulp what’s in my mouth and set the cup on the chair near the bedside. Her brows knit together.

  “I’m gonna let that cool.”

  She lets out a long breath as if she’s been holding it. “I’m nervous.” She shakes her head and looks to the floor.

  “You don’t need to entertain me.”

  “If it’s allowed, I want to... I mean I’d rather try before my father and brother return.” She says, and her face flushes beet-red.

  “Try what?”

  Still staring at the floor, she mumbles. “The Council’s permit allows one attempt at fertilization. The decree expires soon, but if you’d rather wait for the tea to take full effect I understand.” She blushes again. “My window for ovulation is—”

  “You're what?”

  She covers her face with both hands. “The Multiplier says I’m peaking.” Every inch of her exposed skin washes bright red.

  Ovulation? Fertilization? “Wait— Multiplier? How old are you?” And what the hell does she think is happening here?

  My bowels want to empty onto the floor when I think of all she’s said to me. Her dad and brother aren’t here and I am a stranger, a man in a locked room with his little girl.

  Enanda squares her shoulders. “I am perfect breeding age.”

  Oh hell no. “Open the door.”

  She said only she or I could open it and it and that cannot be good, considering I am not whoever the hell she was expecting.

  Enanda looks confused.

  “Open the door.”

  Her face falls.

  “It’s too warm in here.” It’s not; I’m still shivering but grab my collar and tug.

  She looks back to the floor and stands, opening to the door by placing the palm of her hand over a small panel where the knob should be.

  “I offended you.”

  “No, no, but I don’t need your dad to get the wrong idea and boot me back out into the cold.”

  Her face relaxes. Almost smiling she says, “You should finish your tea. It’s best when it’s hot.” With that, the girl steps out into the white hall and heads left.

  Obviously, because Enanda thinks I’m someone I’m not, she took me in, but that doesn’t render the act any less of a kindness. She saved my life. So I grab the cup and fight down three large gulps before setting it back on the chair. The bottom is lined with loose brown things that look like tobacco and twig fragments.

  All this weirdness has chased away the need for sleep, so I unzip my backpack and start taking inventory, something it was too cold to do outside.

  The first thing I notice is the dark plastic bag filled with a handful of oranges I picked before I left World Two. They were going to be a sample from another dimension for Eli, but I didn’t pull them out with the notes I took. When I was out trudging through the snow, I searched for them, but the cold made my eyes water, and it was so dark, I couldn’t find them. Now they’re frozen solid. Now is not the time for eating, but I’d try if I thought I could the globes down without choking. That damned tea has upset my stomach, anyways.

  I toss the bag aside and dig out my extra pairs of socks. I’ve got this feeling like I should clear out of here as soon as possible and that means I need to bundle up.

  After making sure the hallway is still clear, I press the door closed and remove the rest of my suit. The air in the room is actually a little more chilled than I expect, but I can’t take off the attached boots without removing the whole suit.

  I wonder how close I am to the buildings I saw and what type of people might live there if any. If it’s big or small, busy or sleeping, and most importantly how I’ll get there.

  I’m closer to feeling warm than I have been since arriving; bundled up in three layers of clothes underneath my radiation suit.

  Just as I slip my zipper all the way up and press the sticky material together to seal it, the door opens.

  It’s Enanda.

  I’m thanking her for the kindness and leading up to inquiring on transportation when a man steps in the way. He sets himself between us, blocking her from my view. His hair is long and messy, dull and stringy, just like hers, only he looks much older. His mouth is turned down in a grimace. He’s holding something long and metallic, and it’s pointed right at me.

  My mouth goes dry.

  Enanda covers her gaping gob, sucking in a shocked breath. She whispers, “Father, he drunk the tea.”

  The man’s eyes shift to the empty cup as I reluctantly raise my hands, trying to think this through. “She told me to.”

  “Who are you?”

  “G—I’m G. I met your daughter up there.” I point towards the blanketing snow that covers the frozen world above.

  The man’s eyes darken, slightly shifting towards Enanda. His index finger twitches over a lever on the handle of his bulky, odd weapon and his voice is deadly. “You. Went. Outside. After I told you not to?”

  Her eyes drop. Then, she’s gone from my view and replaced by a boy whose face looks just as young and frail. He has to be a relative—her brother, I guess.

  He eyes me, mumbling something too low to understand. But his dad gets it, and judging by the shock and anger on his face, I’m guessing it’s not good news. For either of us.

  His eyes dart back to me. “Who sent you?”

  This is bad. “Why does someone have to be ‘sent’? Can’t a guy get lost in the snow without everyone assuming he—”

  “Who are your people?”

  I shake my head, not knowing what to answer. Odds of me making it out alive are dwindling.

  The small voice of Enanda rips into the small room stuffed with tension. “He’s the Seed Bearer, father. He told me so.”


  The father cocks his head. “The Seed Bearer. Is that who you are?”

  “Um,” I search the room for a possible weapon, but it’s the lucky plastic bag resting on top of my pack that I find. “Sort of.”

  “You are lying. I can always tell.”

  I shake my head. “Yes, I brought you seeds.”

  “Then why did the High Council send word that the Seed Bearer has fallen ill and won’t be coming until next month?” He raises the wide metallic gun.

  My hands stretch out as if trying to block up the barrel, wanting to protect my chest from his cannon. The stones are in the breast pocket of my suit, concealed within their rubber bag. I don’t know if they can save me from there.

  “You’ve got ten seconds to explain.” He says and starts counting. “Ten, nine—”

  “Inside the dark bag, right over there,” I point. “The small one on top.”

  He gives a commanding nod and the boy behind him steps over, cautiously making his way to my backpack on the chair in the opposite corner. He carefully pokes the bag of oranges as if he’s afraid it’ll bite.

  “Open it and you’ll see. I’ve brought seeds.” I’ve never been so thankful for frozen oranges.

  The boy pokes at the bag a few more times before finally deciding it’s safe to handle. As he’s thoughtfully checking the contents, I decide now might be a good time to mention it was not my intention to stay.

  “I was headed west when my equipment failed. I got lost and would’ve frozen if she hadn’t found me.”

  The father looks to his puzzled son, silently holding my bag. “Well? What’s in there?” He asks, removing a hand to gesture for the boy to toss him the bag.

  “Frozen, colored balls.”

  “They’re oranges.” I clarify.

  Two sets of eyes dart back and forth from father to son, stranger to captor.

  “You know, fruit? Oranges. From orange trees? They froze up there, but they’ve got seeds inside, and the fruit is edible.” Looking at the two faces, I see nothing but confusion. “The seeds sprout and grow into bushy trees that produce more fruit with more seeds inside... which means more trees and more food.”

  Enanda steps inside as her father snatches the bag from Junior. She keeps her eyes fixed on me looking just as confused as the others. “But you said—”

  “I bear seeds for growing food.” I clear my throat, trying to sound authoritative. “All they need is dirt, sunlight, and water.”

  “Arlen, run a perimeter check.” The father says with one hand on his gun, the other on the plastic bag and both eyes watching me. His expression is blank. “If he’s telling the truth, we’ll have no trouble locating his transport.”

  He looks down at the chair, staring into the empty mug. “That tea’s going to start working soon, Seed Bearer.”

  I don’t feel the butt of the rifle whip against my head. The room just disappears.