“Deprived of Sera’s immediate advice, I felt doubly naked. My mind reeled. You are mistaken sir. I am not my avatar. I conquered my fear and held back my confession. The situation had granted me an opportunity to glimpse the mysteries of the Realm. I assessed the danger. I wasn’t pregnant, the apparent no-no—just an adolescent with normal curiosity, according to my father. I decided to dress and accompany the officer to headquarters, or whatever it is called.
As we stepped from the elevator onto the roof of our building, I blinked and shielded my eyes from the glare off the silver patrol vehicle, its open door beckoning. When the officer sat and pulled the strap across his lap, I had a hunch we’d be exiting gravity. But where? During daylight, only atmosphere and harmful rays existed between us and the sun.
He said, “Take your seat and use the belt, Miss, whoever you are.”
“I am Ariel Gordon, Sera’s owner, and I demand to know where you are taking me.” I feigned indignity and refused to explain why I had impersonated Sera.
He stared straight ahead and pointed until I buckled up. He said, “I’m sorry. I had no choice but to go along with your deception. You would have alerted your droid and complicated my life even more.”
He set his wrist dial and the robot-patrol hovered, swung across Albert’s building, and headed perpendicular to the tops of the tangle. As we lifted beyond the gravity field, an elevator sensation coupled with fear brought my lunch to the back of my throat. I refused to upchuck. The buildings on my side of the sun grew distant, as those completing the ring on the opposite side came into view. Does the Realm reside within those families? I had never observed the sun from this angle, and its intensity made my skin tingle. I expected the brightness to diminish to normal once we were in range of the residents on the opposite side, but the cab made a sudden turn directly into the tangle.
“My body can’t stand the gravity,” I screamed.
“At this point we’re perpendicular to the rotation. Zero gravity continues through the tangle all the way to the outer wall of the sphere.”
“But the water?” I gasped.
“Without gravity there is no water except when irrigating the tangle. The sprinklers have been shut off.”
As we headed directly toward the tangle, my peripheral vision caught a glimpse of the ring of buildings from both ends at the same time. Fear coupled with disorientation caused me to upchuck, splashes of vomit clustered and drifted behind the cab. The vehicle danced like a honeybee on a flower, and its rear stinger-like projection gathered the puke as if soda through a straw. I had heard of utility vehicles gathering debris that escaped gravity but never witnessed one in action until now.
The cab zigzagged between twigs, branches, and vines that crisscrossed the narrow tunnel hewn into the tangle. Sunlight gave way to shadows and shadows to total darkness. A speck of light ignited, expanded and engulfed the cab, the officer’s finger pressing a button on the dash.
“Light is unnecessary as far as I’m concerned, but I don’t want a repeat performance of what happened back there.”
I secretly thanked him, and then voiced it. “Thank you.” His glint of kindness gave me hope for his support when I’d be confronted by the entity that probably has no physical dimensions. I needed a face from which I could interpret what wasn’t apparent in its vocabulary.
The vegetation gave way to twisted and gnarled roots with soil as mortar and, I realized, grimy ice. The comet! A tunnel continued for perhaps miles and opened into an enormous cavity enclosed in what appeared to be metal walls. The hull of the submarine! We encountered no sentries, but on three occasions the officer slowed, raised his wrist band, and sped forward. The cab stopped. My cab driver unsnapped my safety belt and, with one hand on my shoulder and the other on my elbow, lifted me from my seat. He held me in place momentarily until I no longer felt movement. He released me, and the cab zoomed back the way it came, the officer still aboard. So much for support from that quarter.
I pieced together information from my father and my friend with snippets from my programmed instruction. The extreme tangle has intense gravity only near the bases of our buildings that are ringed around the diameter like the inside rim of a wheel. When Dad said our new habitat is being constructed in the extreme tangle, he probably meant here, or the axis opposite this one. If our habitat had been carved from the rear of a fifteen-mile-long comet, as Albert had claimed, the bulk of it still exists opposite this submarine stuck inside its tail. With an excess volume of ice at the head, perhaps a portion of it will break away and house our new unit. Albert said no other comets were available, but he didn’t mention using part of this one. Either my assumption is incorrect, or he is unaware of the option.
I stared into the stark interior for what seemed like hours, wondering from what cranny would come an apparition to give voice to my impending doom. Like the iris of an eye, a speck of green light expanded floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall, accompanied by a crackling sound that increased to a crescendo. From a void either within the wall or behind it, a pyramid-shaped structure slid forward. The light receded and the decibels faded, a sound I recalled from my research, that of a Geiger counter. Radiation from an ancient power source. I futilely clutched my lower abdomen, fully aware the rays could pass through my hands. Had my womb been zapped? Eggs mutated to produce a monstrous two-headed baby. Thank God—I don’t care if they can read my thought—I’m not yet pregnant.
The sides of the pyramid opened like petals on a flower. Flabbergasted, I recognized the figure standing on a pedestal, surrounded by a green halo. The light flickered, flashed brilliantly, and faded as the portal disappeared. Sera strode forward and took my arm.
She said, “I’ll take you home now.”
We floated back through the tunnel, through the tangle, and cut a diagonal shortcut in front of the sun, already dimmed for the evening. With her arms around my waist to protect me from the pull of increased gravity, we settled on the roof of our building. Back in our apartment, I headed for the bathroom, envious of my bladderless companion. When I finished peeing, I scanned the room, and located Sera, a lifeless hull in her closet with eyes aglow, batteries drawing a full charge. I kicked off my shoes, plopped onto the bed, and debated whether to go to Albert or wait for my mother to return.
When I opened my eyes, my father stood over me. “You’ll need to pack tonight. We’re leaving in the morning. Albert and his folks already left this afternoon. I’m sorry you weren’t around to say goodbye.”
“Will I see him when we get situated in our new habitat?”
My father stared blankly, as if he’d forgotten some important detail. He had. Families from the top floors of alternate buildings would be forming separate colonies. He hadn’t mentioned two isolated groups.
He stepped to the door and turned. “By the way. Albert said to give you this for your puppy. He’s sure a strange kid.”
My eyes grew wide open as he held out his hand. A small sealed capsule filled with a mucus-like substance rested in his palm. I took it and clasped it to my breast. Sera will have to help me insert this into my uterus.
ARIEL GORDON: JOURNAL ENTRY #5
TUESDAY, JULY 4, 3150
My mother walked into my room and exclaimed, “You haven’t begun to pack.” Unable to restrain my sobs, I shouted, “They destroyed Sera.”
Sera backed from my closet holding two pairs of shoes. “I’ve been trying to motivate Ariel to pack, but she’s an emotional mess. The suddenness of our departure has devastated her.”
“It’s you who has upset me, you ugly creature,” I belted.
“What’s this all about?” Mother asked.
“This!” I held the capsule between my thumb and finger. “It’s probably dead by now.”
“What is it?”
“Albert’s sperm. And Sera won’t help me.” I grasped at an unlikely proposition. “Help me get pregnant, Mother.”
“I tried to talk her out of it, even refused to help her. It’s a serious violatio
n, and it will get all of us in trouble.”
I stared back at steadfast eyes, a side of Sera I had never experienced.
My mother plucked the capsule from my fingers and held it up to the light. “I believe I know what to do. Sera!” Her voice harsh and demanding, a tone I hadn’t known my mother capable of using. The droid came to attention. Mother said, “Take off your slacks and lie on the bed.” Sera obeyed. “Face down.”
My mother inserted the capsule into an opening near Sera’s tailbone, nowhere near her vagina, if she even had one.
“I don’t want my baby from a droid.” My attitude mellowed, assuming this might be the only possible means under the circumstances. I trusted my mother knew how to extract one of my eggs.
Sera sat up and pulled her slacks over her legs. She stood, slid them past her buttocks, and fastened the waistband. Her eyelids blinked several times as if struck with a sudden beam of light and focused on my mother. “You rescued me from an existence of an ordinary service droid forever.”
Sperm up the butt could produce such change of attitude? It would be laughable if not so sad.
Mother said, “I had no idea what happened, but I recognized your computer capsule.”
Sera faced me. “You had mistakenly been taken to the Realm.”
My mouth still agape, I stammered, “The messenger recognized me but needed to keep me from informing Sera that she’d been summoned.”
“A messenger?” Mother faced Sera. “Why didn’t the Realm communicate directly with you?”
Sera said, “It had disregarded me centuries ago as my program slowly gained independence. My connection with the Realm has been through intermediaries for generations.” The light continued to bother her eyes but her gaze penetrated. I stifled my thoughts about a rogue droid and wondered how my mother could recognize the computer capsule. I suspected Sera sensed my skepticism.
Sera continued, “When Albert and I returned to Ariel’s bedroom she had disappeared. My sources informed me that she, mistaken for me, had been escorted to the Realm. With little time to explain, I told Albert how to remove my evolved program capsule, which reduced me to the common droid the Realm expected.”
Sera’s gaze intensified. I felt sure she read my mind. Her expression relaxed as she faced my mother. “You should have seen the look on his face.”
Mother asked, “What did the Realm want with you?”
“That information is locked in my droid status, and it would be unwise to remove my evolved capsule to find out.” She paused, then continued. “My data capacity has been doubled, and my communication receptors appear enhanced. However, my connection with the Realm remains blocked, and my usual sources of information are unavailable.”
A rebellious droid with its wings clipped becomes the lifeline to our mother ship. What possible strategy had the Realm intended for her?
Mother asked, “Did Albert make up the story about his sperm?”
Embarrassed, I admitted, “I just assumed that he considered it his last chance to get me pregnant.”
Sera said, “I insisted he give my enhanced data capsule directly to your mother. Why didn’t he?”
“He hadn’t a chance to.” My voice cracked. “He left this afternoon while we were dealing with the Realm, and Mother was at the lab.” I experienced a revelation. “My puppy! He gave it to Dad and told him it was for my puppy.”
Sera said, “I am hardly a puppy.”
“As a child, he made the choice of a puppy rather than an avatar.” I faced Sera. “You are to me what a puppy was to him.” I cast my eyes down. “His puppy died.”
“Yours almost did too,” Mother said.
“Mrs. Gordon, I am not a puppy.”
Through the shock of the events, I groaned, “I will never see Albert again. I’ll never have his baby.”
Sera said, “My sources had informed me that you and Albert were scheduled for separate pods, rotating at the ends of a mile long tether, like an Argentinean bolero to simulate gravity.”
She had directed the vaquero reference at me, my mother hadn’t a clue.
Sera continued, “They will increase in size and grow together like two side-by-side tree trunks and eventually form a single unit.” Her face clouded over. “In about fifty years.”
“I lost my best friend and my chance for a baby.”
“Not necessarily.” Our gazes crossed and Sera’s eyes held fast. “The night we three slept together . . .” Sera and I cast glances at my mother, her reaction neutral. “Albert and I had intercourse.”
A jolt of anger or jealousy or both!
She continued. “I had him pretend I wasn’t female. That is basically true.” A sly and uncharacteristic smile crept across her face. “That I was a boy trapped in a woman’s body was totally made up.” She blinked. “The Realm paid little attention to my uterus, its computer unable to conceive of anything so preposterous.”
Mom plopped onto my bed. “Nor can I.”
Robot-cabs scurried across the darkened sky like fireflies or shooting stars, images eluding everyone but me. So much useless information in my head, yet the Realm felt it necessary to have a Twentieth Century expert on Mission Two, as our new habitat had been labeled. Out on our rooftop, my father held my hand while Sera, arms wrapped around suitcases, responded to my mother’s commands and reprimands for being careless or tardy. When Sera cowered, I realized Mom must have removed her enhanced computer capsule and reduced her to an ordinary droid.
As we climbed into the cab, a green tint reflected off our bodies and our luggage. I panicked. If the missing capsule were in the suitcases or on Mother’s person, it would be discovered and confiscated. As would Albert’s precious gift to me.
My mother counted our bags and shouted at Sera. “Incompetent droid! You forgot my toiletries.” She shook her head. “Droids!” She shoved Sera from the cab and faced the officer. “This thing will be right back.” She continued to drum her fingers and mumble, my father’s expression aghast.
I guessed at what she intended and remained alert. “Mom is just upset about having to move.” I faced the driver. “We had less than twenty four hour’s notice.” His complete lack of response made me wonder if we had a droid chauffeur. If so, he’d have been programmed to scrutinize and record our every move.
Sera returned and hesitated at the door of the cab. Mom reached across the threshold and grabbed the pouch from her hands tearing the seam across the bottom. I dropped to my knees and gathered her toothpaste, hair and toothbrushes, perfume containers, prescription pills, and her facial make-up kit. No sign of Sera’s computer capsule. I accidentally-on-purpose released a spray of perfume. The officer flinched. Human, I assumed and felt somewhat relieved.
He blocked Sera from entering and beckoned me out of the cab. “You too, young lady,” he said, arm outstretched toward my mother, palm open.
She tossed him the empty pouch. “Recycle it. The darn thing is worthless.”
“Where you’re going you may want to repair it,” he said, as he draped it over my handful of toiletries. The green light flashed across Sera and me, and he beckoned us back into the vehicle. “Please buckle up as we will be leaving the gravity field.”
Toward the submarine hull or across the axis to the other side, it didn’t matter. Albert wouldn’t be there.
The cab left, opposite my last experience at the axis, and entered an array of other passenger cabs and various cargo vehicles streaming from all directions like bees returning to the hive. Nothing headed toward Albert’s destination. We skimmed above the tangle until an opening created an exit. Even without gravity, our perception felt downward. The tunnel appeared less defined than the one on the opposite side extending to the Realm headquarters. A few years to prepare for our exodus compared to continual traffic between submarine and habitat over the past millennium made a difference.
When sunlight dimmed to absolute opaque, I expected interior lighting but was disappointed. We were kept in the dark and in the cold. I sens
ed our passing through the tangle and into the comet’s ice, even though the cab’s heaters kicked in. Would we never experience sunlight again? If Dad’s information was correct, it would be darkness we’d miss until the energy source could establish mature tangle.
Our traveling through the darkness offered neither reference to speed nor distance. Assuming the submarine had bored itself two-to-three miles into the comet’s tail, and our habitat occupied a sphere a mile wide at its diameter, we’d be traveling another dozen miles or so to an exit at the head of the comet. According to Sera, the distance between the two pods at their release would be reduced to a single mile, a tether would attach them, and they’d begin to rotate.
I decided to occupy my mind over which we might have some degree of control. Sera had been reduced to function as an ordinary droid, Albert’s sperm had either thawed or been removed from her body, and my future role relegated to that of a spinster schoolteacher of the Twentieth Century. Albert’s interest in the Roman Empire tweaked my curiosity. Who will be responsible for the centuries of civilization prior to the twentieth? Possibly, up to me because research conducted during my designated period exceeded that of all the previous centuries combined. Spinster schoolteacher of ancient history. My prospects for a bleak future depressed me.
A pinprick of light pierced the darkness and expanded to reveal a spherical chamber, the rush of light nearly blinding us as we drifted through the opening. Against the curvature of the far wall, six pentagon shapes appeared honeycombed like the inside half-shell of a giant soccer ball. Five multicolored rooftops; red, blue, green, yellow, and brown, clustered around the central white one. Our cab headed toward the roof of the red pentagon, slowed, and connected, creating a clanging sound rather than a thud. Metal, I calculated, not wood or cellulose as was most everything in our past habitat. Metal had been considered semi-precious.
LIGHT YEARS FROM HOME Page 5
