Verita

by Tracy Rozzlynn

  As soon as the shock fades away, I’m ready to leave. Mary directs me to the exit of the ship.

  Chapter 3

  As soon as I am outside, I see that a folding table has been set up. The girl behind it gives me a great big nauseating smile. “Please take a map and handbook and have a seat while waiting for the next shuttle.” She gestures to the stacks in front of her.

  “Thanks.”

  I grab both and begin studying the map. It’s pretty easy to read. There’s color coding, and everything is laid out on a grid. I safely presume that we are on the part labeled ‘Airfield’. It’s to the north of everything else on the map. Underneath are warehouses and manufacturing plants. I wonder if they’re being used, or if they’re just for future need. After the plants come various labs, offices and a hospital. I have to laugh; there is even a beauty parlor, right next to the barbershop. They figured – correctly – that the majority of the girls would be unhappy and unwilling to go back to their natural, highlight-free hair colors.

  Then I groan. Next are the dining halls, recreation halls and the dorms. Men are in one building, and women are in the other. I guess I’ll have a roommate again. I just worry that my luck has run out; I’ve already had one bearable roommate. Hoping for another good one is probably pressing my luck.

  I notice the bottom of the map is labeled ‘Married Housing’. So much for being told there’s no pressure to procreate. I guess if you want your own space you have to get hitched.

  I look around me. The airfield is huge. I can just make out its edges and can see that there are trees, but I can’t tell much else. I lament the acres of undiscovered land that had simply been turned into blacktop and prevents me from getting a peek at what I am to explore. Funny; watching trees get chopped down on Earth never caused me much grief. I guess there’s more of an explorer in me than I ever knew. There are several other large ships parked on the blacktop. I wonder when they had all arrived.

  I listen to see if I can hear any of the local wildlife. I can’t, but I do hear a shuttle approaching. I turn and see what looks like a golf cart built for six moving in my direction. There is even a canopy on it to shade its occupants from the sun. As it gets closer, I realize it’s not just a canopy, but a solar panel. Maybe we’ll actually be successful this time in our attempts to live green.

  “Hi; I’m Olive. I’ll be one of the administrators here, but today I’m your tour guide,” the shuttle girl pleasantly announces in a single breath. “Jane, is there anyone else on their way down, or is it just these three?”

  The girl at the folding table shakes her head.

  “Okay, if the three of you can climb in, I’ll give you a tour of the base and then help you get settled.”

  We climb on board, and Olive restarts the cart. At first there isn’t much to see; just large buildings with more pavement – the warehouses. They go on for what seems like miles. I notice the roofs are lined with combinations of solar panels and wind turbines. Again I find myself encouraged by the attempts at green energy.

  As we approach the labs and offices, the pavement disappears and is replaced by dusty brown dirt surrounding sidewalks. As if responding to my thoughts, Olive explains. “As of right now there is no landscaping. We don’t want to introduce any of Earth’s landscaping and unwittingly cause harm to our environment, and we don’t know enough about the native plants to use any of them yet. We do grow our own plants and vegetables, but they are all contained in bio-domes to prevent contamination. You won’t see the bio-domes on your map – they border the base on the east.”

  We pass close to one of the red brick offices. At a closer look, I see that the buildings are actually made of cement; the bricks are merely a stamped illusion, painted to resemble exposed and weathered red bricks. I remember my neighborhood protesting when a remodeled house tried to use the same method. The owners were forced to tear it down and replace it with real bricks. I never did get what the big deal was.

  “The airfield is to the north and the married housing is to the south.” Olive’s tour had continued on while my mind was wandering. I hope I didn’t miss hearing anything important. “And yes, the housing really is for married couples only. Don’t even think about getting married just for the house; getting divorced is almost impossible, and if you do manage to get divorced, you go straight back to the dorms.” I’m getting an eerie feeling that Olive is a mind reader, but then I remind myself that she’s probably given this tour enough times that she already knows what will be asked of her.

  We pass the dining hall and the dorms. They aren’t much; just large rectangular buildings with barely any windows. Then we get a quick tour of the married housing. What I can see is only the beginning: the housing stretches further back, and construction appears to be taking place somewhere in the distance, erecting more buildings. I lean forward and raise my voice over the hum of the cart. “How will everybody get where they need to go?” I smile sheepishly, hoping she didn’t cover this information already.

  “Naturally everyone will be encouraged to walk whenever possible. However, there will be shuttles, like this one, which will circle the base at regular intervals; so if anyone needs to travel – say, to one of the far warehouses – they just need to wait for the next passing shuttle.”

  “What are the warehouses being used for?” the girl beside me asks.

  “Right now a few are used for storage. Eventually, many of the buildings will be turned into manufacturing plants. That way we can utilize the planet’s natural resources to produce everything we need.”

  My curiosity gets the better of me, and I have to ask, “Will the warehouses run entirely on green energy?”

  “Right now we are running on a combination of nuclear and green energy. We hope to maintain a ninety percent level of renewable energy. Solar panels and wind turbines are being placed everywhere feasible.” Olive flashes a satisfied smile over her shoulder.

  As the shuttle loops and starts to head back, we get close enough to the fence to get a good look at the wilderness. It’s strange, but wonderfully breathtaking. At first glance, it looks similar to the trees I grew up with, but the colors are somehow different; there is a blue tint to the leaves. Intertwined among the underbrush are tropical-looking flowers of every possible color. My body tingles with anticipation – I simply can’t wait to get outside to explore all of this. Much too quickly, the cart pulls away, and we head back to the dorms, surrounded by the dusty, bare ground again. I follow the group into the building, sigh, and wonder if my roommate is already there and waiting to meet me.

  “Women are not allowed in the men’s dormitories and vice versa—”

  Olive continues, highlighting some of the key rules and information we need to know, but I’m barely paying attention. I’m too focused on the gray cement of the interior walls that surround me on every side. There’s no carpet, no drywall, nothing that indicates this place should be more than warehouse storage – just bare-bones cement, metal, and wood. Before I have a chance to ask Olive about the state of the building, she stops in front of plain door with the number 103 etched on it.

  “Karen, this is your unit. Follow me and I’ll show you to your pod.” Olive opens the door and we all gasp. The room is a long rectangle with rows of sleeping pods on each side. Each pod has a plain metal locker next to it. There is nothing else in the room whatsoever. Olive is prepared for our reaction, and she responds before we can begin to protest. “This may not be what you had in mind, but it’s an effective way to initially contain everyone in one place. Once you’re married and ready to start a family of your own, you will receive a house to live in. Besides, the pods are extremely comfortable, they ensure a sound sleep, and they can be used to supplement your education as you’re sleeping. If you suddenly find yourself needing information from a field different than your own, the pods will be very useful. It’s not ideal, but it’s what we have. Just think of this as the place you sleep; you’ll do your living everywhere else.

  “Now,
the door at the end on the left is for the showers – on the right are the toilets and sinks. It’s the same in every unit.” Olive finally pauses to see if anyone still wants to protest the sleeping arrangement. We all just stare back at her blankly.

  I sigh, knowing how much I will miss my privacy.

  Olive informs us when and where we report tomorrow to start our jobs, and then she leads us to the next unit, and finally, to mine. I’m on the top floor, and the only elevator in the building is a locked service elevator – yuck.

  I look around my unit. It’s an exact duplicate of the other two. The first real pangs of regret hit me. Did I make a mistake deciding to do this? Just what did I get myself into? I look at Olive. “Now what?” I ask solemnly.

  Olive giggles, “Don’t worry; the dorms are the only bleak thing about this place. You’re going to love it here.” She gives me an ear-to-ear grin. I give her a doubtful look. “Just about everyone that hasn’t started their jobs are in the recreation centers or dining halls. You can go to the supply store to get your toiletries and such. And now’s a good time to review the handbook’s rules.” Her expression shows empathy, and I wonder just how pathetic my expression must look to her.

  “Wait. Supply store? Will I need money?” I blurt out as what she said registers.

  “No; all the basics are available for everyone.” She attempts another reassuring smile, but now I’m just finding it annoying. I’m over my moment of dismay.

  “Okay, thanks,” I mumble, then turn to continue to review my bleak living conditions.

  “Well, enjoy getting settled in.” Olive stops and turns before leaving the room. “By the way, welcome to Verita.”

  Her brief welcome makes me pause. I am really here. I look around the empty room and contemplate what I want to do. I stick my head in the showers. They resemble the showers at the YMCA back home. The whole floor is tile, drains dotting the center. A thin curtain provides privacy for each shower, but there is no privacy area for getting dressed; just a long bench and hooks on the walls. So much for modesty. I look into the bathroom section. At least there is plenty of counter space opposite the stalls. The sinks are evenly spaced along a continuous counter that spans the length of the room. A mirror spans the entire wall above the counter, and next to each sink is a curling iron and blow-dryer. At least the girls that still care won’t have to skip their morning beauty rituals.

  I’m about to head out, when I finally notice a white box in the center of most of the pods. I search and quickly find the one with my name. I open it and try my MP3. Of course it has no charge, but still I had to try. Refusing to entirely give up, I slip it in my pocket in case I find a power source somewhere. Then I look at the pictures. Most are of me and my parents. I didn’t want to be reminded of Jenna or Brad. The picture on top was taken this past summer. I’m standing in between my mom and dad at the pool.

  My dad used to muse that I had taken the best from them both and would soon be a knockout. He said he’d eventually be forced to sit on the porch with a shotgun just to keep the hounds at bay. Then he’d over explain it and tell me that’s because boys and men are dogs. Of course, being my dad, it was his job to think I was pretty and to feel protective.

  I look at the picture and try to see what he saw in me. I’m slender, and have a pretty good shape from swimming, but I’m far from a knockout. He was right about one thing, though: I am a mix of them both. I have my mom’s pale blue eyes and warm, but slightly crooked smile. My ghostly complexion comes from my dad. My mom called it peaches and cream; her polite way of saying that I would never tan, so don’t even try. But, despite having my dad’s dark auburn hair, I don’t have any of his abundant freckles – and that’s certainly a plus. My favorite feature is my hair. It’s a deep shade of auburn that only really flares red when in direct sunlight. It’s long, well past my shoulders, and it naturally falls into abundant loose curls without getting frizzy. But, looking at the picture, I know my dad was just trying to make me feel special. He was always doing things like that.

  I wedge all the pictures up inside the door of my locker, and then fish out the rest of the box’s contents. My parents gave me the cross, but I’m just too conflicted with everything that’s happened to feel comfortable wearing it. Right now, I’d feel like a hypocrite with it around my neck. So I slide the cross off, place it in the locker, and replace it with my dad’s ring, before putting the necklace on. I tuck the necklace into my shirt, and notice how the white gold of the ring feels cool against my skin, while at the same time its presence warms me.

  As I head out of the dorm, I don’t have any idea where I’m walking to. I just know I’m not up to dealing with other people yet. I try blaming it on my recent waking episode, but honestly, I realize my recent antisocial tendencies are more deeply rooted than that. But where should I go? Next to my bed, lying on a warm patch of grass was my favorite place to read, but there is none of that around here. I don’t need to open the handbook to know that going beyond the fence by myself won’t be allowed.

  Yet despite realizing this, I find myself walking the perimeter of the fence.

  The forest is even more striking and beautiful up close. It looks like someone has combined a tropical rainforest with the familiar New England forests that I know and love. There are large, tall trees that resemble pine trees – but instead of needles, they have things coating the branches that are shaped like ferns. There are various oak and maple trees mixed in with bark ranging from snowy white to a bluish charcoal gray. Intertwined with the trees are more plants than I can count. Some wind up the trunks of the trees, flowers bursting out across them, reaching for sunlight. Others are content to hug the ground and soak up whatever filtered light that comes through.

  I’m amazed at the range of colors before me. The trumpet flowers on the vines that climb the trees are sapphire blue. Another bush resembles hydrangea, but the flowers are shiny silver, sparkling like well-polished metal. It’s unnerving just how much I yearn to get out beyond the fence to study and explore everything. I had never considered becoming a biologist, but now that I’m here, on this planet, I can’t imagine ever wanting to do anything else with my life.

  I come across a boulder close to the fence. I chuckle at how much it resembles a kidney bean. I test it out, and I decide it makes a pretty decent chair. I can enjoy the view, get some sun, and read at the same time. I settle myself in and start flipping through the content pages of the handbook. In the end, I decide to just start reading from the beginning.

  I have just finished reading the tedious introduction, when I feel the need to look up. I have the strange feeling of someone watching me. My gaze meets the stare of a beautiful set of violet eyes. I stand up and start walking towards them. They are mesmerizing, these strange eyes. I need to discover who, what kind of creature, they belong to. I am almost at the fence, I reach my hand forward—

  “Stop!”

  I jump and pull my hand back. The eyes quickly vanish back into the greenery. I turn in the direction of the deep, booming voice that startled me.

  “What do you think you’re doing? You don’t know if any of those plants out there are poisonous or even carnivorous.” The sharp edge in his voice instantaneously angers me.

  Is he seriously lecturing me? Momentarily, I worry he’s security, and that I’ve broken some unknown rule – but as he marches closer I notice he’s wearing black with purple, like me. He’s a scientist, just like I am, and I’m pissed. Who the hell is he to lecture me? I wasn’t actually touching anything, yet. I would have stopped before reaching the fence – at least that’s what I’m telling myself.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” I snap back at him defensively.

  “I’m trying to keep you from hurting yourself. You could be a little nicer and say thank you,” he snarls, but I can see by his expression that he’s startled by my tone.

  With my voice dripping in sarcasm, I say, “Sure, thank you. Thank you for butting in where you don’t belong, and th
ank you so much for startling my creature away. Did you ever stop to think that I was looking at something beside the plants? And, just maybe, that I was reaching out to see if I’d get a similar response from the animal that was looking at me? And that, just maybe, you’re not the only one with a shred of common sense who knows not to touch something when you don’t know what it is?”

  I cross my arms and simply glare at him. A part of me realizes that he only meant well, but I’m not in the mood to be understanding. The shock of waking up, the disappointment of the dorms, all my doubts and my losses are being taken out on this poor sap who happened along at the wrong moment. I know it’s not fair of me, but it’s not enough to quell my fury.

  “I’m sorry,” he retorts condescendingly. “The next time I think you’re about to do something foolish, I’ll wait until after you’re hurt to tell you that it’s a bad idea.” I notice he’s smirking at me now, apparently amused by my reaction.

  “And you can save the lecturing until after the fact next time, too.” I huff, turn around, and sit back down to read my handbook.

  “It’s a deal then.” He holds out his hand to shake. I look up and see a Cheshire cat smile plastered on his face. I can’t stop myself from smiling too.

  “Deal.” I shake his hand as I feel my anger subsiding.

  “I’m Ryan; Ryan Traven. And you are—” he asks, raising his eyebrow.

  “Brett Bradbury,” I answer. Realizing we’re still shaking, I quickly tug my hand away. He chuckles warmly at me.

  “So you’re a biologist?” I notice his voice has a soft, gentle quality to it when he isn’t scolding me.