The Impossible Future: Complete set

by Frank Kennedy

  Only years later did Kara resent their condescension. She also knew much more history and held a firmer grasp of the economics and delicate politics involved. More important, perhaps, she began to appreciate the Freelanders’ ideology as her own interest in the land and environment expanded. She set her sights on a firm role inside Nantou, but not in the business sector.

  Three weeks before she turned sixteen in Standard Year 5357, Kara announced over breakfast her life objective: To join Nantou’s Bioresearch and Engineering Division. Perr and Li-Ann shaded suspicious glances, while Lang and Dae rolled their eyes.

  “Is this what you think of me?” Kara said to a silent table. She focused her glare on her brothers. “Nantou is our family legacy. Why is my ambition any less acceptable than yours?”

  Lang pretended to stab himself in the heart then laughed.

  “No one said you couldn’t work for Nantou, but everybody knows you’re best suited for the marketing division.”

  “We do?” Dae asked with a touch of snark.

  “Enough,” their father said. He took a slow drink from a tall glass of infused mango juice. “Kara, you have never expressed these interests before today. In addition, you placed midway through the first tier on the Science Regimens. Do you realize the alchemy required by all those employed within BRED?”

  Here we go, she thought. Time for the family bubblehead to lower her expectations.

  “What I know, Honorable Father, is the importance of working to ensure a better tomorrow for our world. This is the stated mission of BRED. As for my test results, are you as well-versed in Lang’s Linguistic Appropriations scores? Or Dae’s Integrated Mathematics Regimen? If not, I’m sure they’d be willing to shine some light on their mediocrity.”

  She spotted her mother’s silent applause when Li-Ann raised her napkin to her lips to conceal an obvious smile of satisfaction.

  “Enough, Daughter,” Perr said. “I used the Regimens as an example of a larger trendline. You lack the overall discipline for such work. And for the record, I have already voiced my considerable displeasure to your brothers for their disgraceful outcomes. However, those skillsets will not be essential to their success at Nantou. They will not become accountants or analysts. They will be training for corporate leadership. You, on the other hand, have time to reconsider your options. I suggest you put aside these notions.”

  After breakfast, her father and brothers left the estate in the corporate Scram, joining the UpWay en route from the exclusive Haansu District to the city center. Li-Ann visited Kara in her daughter’s bedroom an hour later, sending away staff. She joined Kara on the balcony and grabbed her daughter’s hand.

  “Do not listen to them,” her mother said. “They are testing you, Kara. Of course, they want you to succeed at Nantou.”

  “So long as no one confuses me with the true heirs to the Syung-Low dynasty. Right, Mother?”

  The grip tightened. “Why must you always be so sarcastic? Our family is old and revered. Are we to apologize for our extended good fortune? Kara, the men in your family simply want to make sure you have the necessary fortitude. Nantou’s competitors are fierce, and they extend beyond Hotai. The pressure to remain at the forefront of Hokki society can be withering. For now, rest your ambitions. They’ll have time enough to stir. Your Festival of Years is only three weeks away. You’ve done little planning beyond reserving the beach. Call Chi-Qua and bring in the staff. You will only turn sixteen this one time. Enjoy it, Daughter.”

  Of course, Mother. I’ll plan my birthday party. Something to keep me busy.

  Birthdays meant little to Kara. It came down to simple math. One day, she is fifteen years and four hundred nineteen days old. The next day, she is fifteen years and four hundred twenty days old. Except the second day is treated with great reverence, as if her ability to continue breathing into a “new year” should be regaled. Birth was little more than biological hodgepodge – sometimes based on meaningful planning but most often an accidental tweak drawn from reckless carnal needs. And there was, in Kara’s judgment, far too much recklessness on Hokkaido.

  Food shortages were growing, immigration policies tightening, and the wealth divide expanding. Few talked about these matters in The Lagos, perhaps because the continent was two thousand kilometers and many nightmares away. Rumors of environmental concerns extended beyond the decreasing arable land on the continent. Regardless, the birth rate worldwide continued apace.

  “We’ll pay for this one day,” she told incredulous classmates during a heated debate at the exclusive Vox School for Girls.

  For now, what was left but to obey Mother and ignore Father’s condescension? Kara gathered Chi-Qua and her personal staff and planned the best Festival of Years ever seen in the Haansu District.

  Three weeks later, giant tents lined the beach, their silk canvases billowing in a gentle ocean breeze. Lanterns designed in the ancient construct dotted the sand. The sun was setting to the east and the Kye-Do rings were rising from the west. High above, the moon Huryo shined in crescent mode.

  Every family worth its salt made certain to pay homage, sending at least one representative – regardless of whether they were invited. Most of her classmates attended (primarily the ones she could stomach for five minutes). Her parents were allowed to invite whomever they desired from the community of seamasters, which is why an inordinate number of Nantou executives and mid-level managers unknown to Kara spent the greatest time trolling the food lines.

  As the sky darkened and the stars took over, the requisite series of speeches, toasts, and formal greetings ensued. Fireworks launched from a station a hundred meters offshore. They twisted into shapes of dozens of wild animals indigenous and imported to Hokkaido. But especially, the great Kohlna fish – a monster of the oceans and feeder of billions – received the dominant tribute.

  Kara smiled and, when requested, bowed. Yet after two hours of these festivities, she deduced the obvious: This party seemed as over the top and self-indulgent as every other Festival of Years she attended. Moreover, no one seemed to notice or care she was the birthday girl. Wine, an assortment of tropical liquors, and plumes of poltash weed became the source of indulgence.

  She wanted to call it to a close, even though it was scheduled to continue well past midnight.

  “You’re very beautiful tonight,” her mother said, having broken away from a clique of society friends. “You chose the perfect hair and eyes for the occasion.”

  Kara streaked her hair with shades of violet and teal, and she wore jade prosthetic lenses. Her mother’s compliment wasn’t the first, although it would be the last.

  “You understand they must be gone by sunrise,” Li-Ann added.

  “Of course, Mother. I would never want to shock the school by wearing party warmers to …”

  Her voice caught; her thoughts froze.

  Li-Ann pivoted to introduce a tall man in a beige, form-fitting bodysuit. He towered half a foot above anyone else here, and he was a monstrous creation, his shoulders broad as a mountain and his chest heaving. He was not Hokki.

  Why hadn’t she seen him earlier?

  “Daughter, I introduce Admiral Benjamin Sussex, commander of the Ark Carrier fleet. He came all this way to pay homage.”

  What was she supposed to do? She’d never been this close to a Chancellor, let alone the most powerful in the Hokkaido system. Should she bow? Lower her eyes? Shake his hand? At the very least, Mother could have prepared her.

  She made no outward motion. “I am honored, Admiral. I am at a loss for words. I’ve never heard of a Chancellor attending a Festival of Years.”

  The Admiral sipped wine. “Indeed. It is a rarity. We have little time for these secondary matters. However, your parents have ingratiated themselves through their tireless efforts to offer exceptional product to our people. Until a year ago, the Raphael Cartigian held an exclusive contract with Hotai. We’ve been most impressed by Nantou’s service arrangements.”

  Kara did not want to
know the details. Did they invite the admiral here to impress everyone – or to gloat? If they dared to suggest his presence was her birthday present, Kara intended to walk straight into the ocean and never return. Nonetheless, she played sweet.

  “Ah. I see. The Raphael Cartigian. That’s your flagship?”

  “Indeed. Almost forty thousand Chancellors. You may not be aware, but the RC – as we call her – was the last Carrier to transport Korean colonists eight hundred years ago. We cleaned the peninsula of your kind and gave you an entire world in exchange. Yes?”

  She smiled like a good little Hokki. “I’m sure I read about that somewhere in my history studies.”

  His eyes glazed over. He didn’t want to be here anymore than she.

  “Oh,” he said. “Appears my wine has all but extinguished. Where might I find …?”

  Li-Ann grabbed him by the arm. “Come with me, Admiral. I know precisely what you need.”

  Just like that, Kara’s close encounter with a master of the universe ended, and no one else appeared to notice she was all alone, her bare feet digging into the warm sand. She was wrong, however.

  Chi-Qua emerged from the shadows. Kara’s best friend, sporting a yellow top and pink prosthetic lenses, arrived with a bag slung over her shoulder. She sported a devious smile.

  “Oh, no,” Kara said. “I know that look. You have a plan.”

  “I do. I think you’ll like it.”

  She shook the bag, and objects clanked inside.

  “Nice. Where do you propose?”

  Chi-Qua pointed inland, where the land rose sharply and a phalanx of bullabast trees acted as sentries, hiding the closest estate houses from view. When they reached the nearest tree, a hundred meters from the party site, darkness descended. The twisting geometry silhouetted against the starry sky.

  “I’ve been up this one,” Chi-Qua said. “There’s a great cubby halfway along the main trunk.”

  “Two problems. First, I’ve haven’t climbed one of these in five years. Second, these things are challenging enough in full sun. I’d rather not risk injury and have to explain myself to my parents. Can’t we just hide out at the base?”

  Chi-Qua laughed. “No, silly. It’s your sixteenth. Time to be adventurous. If you fall and crack your skull, I’ll say it was your idea.”

  Kara shrugged. “Brilliant. What’s in the bag?”

  “Nead.”

  “No! You didn’t. How? A bottle goes for almost a thousand Dims.”

  Chi-Qua reached for the lowest branch and swung upward.

  “Call me a magician,” she said. “I have this trick where I attack when everyone’s back is turned. Actually, Honorable Father keeps close track of volume, so I’ve been skimming ten milliliters twice a week for the past three months. Happy birthday, Kara.”

  And with that confession, refusal was no longer an option.

  As she climbed, Kara slipped and almost lost her hold twice, but she followed at her friend’s heels and reached the cubby ten minutes later. They laid back, side by side, and peered through a large opening in the tree. Kara had almost forgot this feeling of intimacy. She couldn’t remember why she ever gave up climbing bullabasts.

  Chi-Qua worked with dexterity to open the tiny bottle of Nead and pour equal shots into the glasses.

  “To the years,” she said.

  “To the years,” Kara replied.

  The liquor, highly prized and extremely rare, went down warm and pungent at first. Then, the famed miracle of this creation reared itself from the bowels of her stomach, shooting forth a gas that infused her lungs and stampeded her taste buds. It carried the tang of wild berries and the punch of sweet vinegar drawn from fermented Nead pears. The taste was fleeting, but the lightness of being stayed behind much longer.

  She knew the cautionary legends: One shot of Nead gave an hour’s pleasure; two shots turned grown men into giggling children; three shots were a love letter to suicide.

  The next thirty minutes offered Kara everything she wanted for her birthday. Amid the distortion, hyper-realized imagination, and unexpected desire for the girl beside her, Kara let go of the excess baggage. Lang and Dae disappeared into another timeline, leaving Kara as the sole heir to Syung-Low, determined to become Hokkaido’s hero in waiting. Her Honorable Mother and Father told her not to pursue a life in BRED. Instead, they willed Nantou to her, with full blessing to change its mission and unwind all its profits in order to feed the Hokki people for free. And then, of course, she was free to change social norms – starting with a mandate for daily hair color variants and lens prosthetics for everyone.

  It all made sense. She saw it happen, step by step. Even imagined herself grooming her own children with greater flexibility. They thought less of family legacy and more of philanthropy and saving Hokkaido’s most delicate ecosystems.

  Dreams. Nonsense. But a pleasant diversion, nonetheless. When Nead’s impact lessened, she settled in to watch the stars in silence.

  “Thank you,” she told Chi-Qua. “The best gift of all.”

  Her friend wiped away tears.

  “It might be,” she said. “I’ll hope.”

  Kara did not pursue the obtuse response. She sensed when Chi-Qua was lost in a world of fantasies. She was the third of six in the Baek household, crammed somewhere between the wildly popular first heir and the angelic baby of the lot.

  A star brighter than all the others appeared in the opening.

  “There,” Kara said, pointing. “Right on time.”

  “Which one is it?”

  “The Henrik Nilsson.”

  Kara was a fast study of the Carriers’ varied orbits, and she knew each one’s predictable routes. Every night, nine passed overhead on similar trajectories. The Henrik Nilsson crossed just ahead of the leading Kye-Do ring.

  “I almost went onboard a Carrier years ago,” Kara said. “I think I was eight. We were touring the rings – remember, when I won the contest? The navigator said they were experiencing mechanical issues and were going to dock for repairs. I forget which Carrier, but we were in sight. Almost there. Then the problem fixed itself.”

  Chi-Qua tossed the glasses into the bag and sealed it.

  “I’ve seen bytes. That’s good enough for me. I think my head would burst. It’s all so much. We weren’t meant to live that way. I need a firm planet beneath me. I …”

  Kara gasped before she might respond.

  The manmade star burst into a searing white blister, first elongating across the sky, but contracting as suddenly.

  Then nothing.

  “Wait. What?” Kara completed a doubletake. “Where did it go?”

  Chi-Qua sat up. “Must be the Nead. I thought it wore off, but …”

  “It did wear off. I feel fine. I know what I saw. You, too.”

  “OK. So, what did we see? If I didn’t know better, I’d think …”

  Chi-Qua didn’t want to say it. Neither did Kara.

  “Here’s the plan. Leave the bag here. We go back to the beach. Act like nothing happened. We’ve been there all along. Someone else had to have seen it.”

  By the time they returned to the tents, the girls didn’t need to ask for confirmation. Silence and tension lay everywhere.

  Many guests were leaving, some in a rush. Staff were making moves to close down the food lines and dissemble the tents. Kara found her parents in a narrow huddle with Lang and Dae.

  “There you are!” Her mother shouted as Kara approached. “We were almost in a frenzy.”

  “What’s happening?”

  “Did you see it?” Lang asked.

  “Yes. Maybe. I … I saw a flash.”

  Li-Ann called her daughter in close and lowered her voice.

  “Your Honorable Father and I were speaking to Admiral Sussex when it happened. Sussex received a transmission on his stream amp. They lost all contact with three Ark Carriers. We don’t know any more. The Admiral hurried to his Scramjet.”

  Kara saw fear in her mother’s eyes and heard p
anic in her voice.

  “Naturally,” her father said, “we will take a cautious approach until this confusion becomes clear. We are to return to the estate.” He zeroed in on the children. “I want no communication with friends. Are my orders understood?”

  Not even a nod was required. The command was inviolate.

  When they returned home, Perr ordered the children to retire to their respective bed suites. Lang and Dae, long included in classified discussions about Nantou business, appeared pale as they retreated. They knew better than to contest Honorable Father.

  All night, Kara resisted the urge to speak with Chi-Qua. The Baeks escorted her from the beach with the same sense of urgency but no explanation as to why.

  In lieu of no other information, Kara fell into her nightly routine and then awoke with the sunrise. She arrived at the breakfast room to encounter the usual spread of cheeses, fruits, and seafood bisque. A tall glass of infused mango welcomed Kara to her seat. The family entered within a minute of her. Each stood as Perr reached the head of the table and tapped his hands upon the edge before closing his eyes for five seconds of peaceful reverence. The meal began as if nothing happened. Protocol remained intact.

  Not until they finished their bisque did Perr send the staff away. He wiped his lips and stared straight ahead, eyes meeting no one.

  “This will be a challenging day,” he said, “but one we must meet with discipline and circumspection. This is what I know, though I cannot tell you how.

  “The Ark Carriers Adelphi, Henrik Nilsson, and Linnaeus are gone. They were destroyed in a simultaneous attack. At first, reports were unclear, but a mining operation ten thousand kilometers from the Adelphi captured the Carrier’s destruction. I have been told ninety-eight thousand people inhabited those ships. I know your first questions will begin with how and who. At this stage, we have only conjecture. Therefore, I believe the prudent course is to remain calm and muted until we receive clarity.”