by Alex Scarrow
‘Where are you going, Ellie? We haven’t finished dom-tech yet.’
‘I’m…I need to change the filter in Betsy.’
Ellie slid open the door and left her habi-cube.
He sat in silence for a while, half expecting her to return a moment later with a playful ‘gotcha’ grin. But no.
He looked around Ellie’s habi-cube as he awaited her return. For the first time it occurred to him how little she had. The room belonging to a girl of nineteen, nearly twenty should have more in it. It ought to look like a cross between a stuffed-toy factory and a cosmetics store. Ellie’s cabin was stark. A bed, a storage cabinet, a desk, and one stuffed toy, a tartan patterned dog she called ‘Johnny’. He knew her Dad paid her pocket money for the chores she did on the farm, but he was damned if he knew what she spent it on. He saved the files they had been working on and turned off the writing tablet.
CHAPTER 3
Ellie sat in a quiet nook of Betsy, well away from the stirring tubweeds. This was her corner of the world, her domain - a wobbly wicker chair and a small glow lamp. She could hear the irritating twittering voices of yet another cartoon on the holo-toob echoing through from the domestic dome, and the guffaw of Ted and Shona as, presumably, another unfortunate character was squashed, diced or blasted into space.
And Sean? Probably he’d just say goodbye to her parents and let himself out.
She looked up at the plexitex ceiling of Betsy. It was dark outside. The sky a rich and deep purple, divided by a golden misty slash; the gas clouds of the nearby Seventh Veil. To the south the faintest tinge of blue-green on the horizon. The glow of New Haven.
There was a thumping sound coming from the tubweed beds. It was, no doubt, the frisky one from earlier on that afternoon taking out hunger-induced frustration on its neighbors. She reached down and grabbed a handful of fertilizer pellets from the bucket and threw it out into the darkness in the rough direction of the misbehaving plant. There was a gentle rustling of leaves and tentacles. She didn’t care too much if the damn plant got its meal or not, or whether another had managed to scoop an extra helping, the thumping had stopped.
Ellie was angry with herself; angry with so many dregging-bloody-things at the same time, she didn’t know which way to spit venom first. That Sean now knew for certain she had - yes, a girly-wirly crush on him…well, maybe that was just more embarrassing than annoying. Sean was a good guy. He wouldn’t brag about it to anyone. Mind you, what was there to brag about? She was hardly catch of the century; a scrawny yard stick with long and lank hair, a plain face and welt marks on her hands and wrists.
She was angry that he was getting away. Yes, that hurt. Envy then; he was getting a chance to go off-world, to see that large universe and the closest she was ever going to get was looking at the stars, watching inbound freighters stitch lines across the sky.
Colonial plot 452; this tatty cluster of dusty agri-domes bang in the middle of this flat, dry, baked-mud world, Harpers Reach. And what was that but a mud-ball planet on the edge of Nebula Cirrus 5, otherwise known as the Seventh Veil. A sparsely populated and generally uninteresting region of space; a little piece of nowhere.
‘This damn farm, this is my universe,’ she muttered to herself. ‘This is all it’ll ever be.’
‘Not necessarily.’
She spun around in her chair. The canes creaked with the sudden movement. Sean stood in the dark beyond the light thrown out by the glow lamp.
‘Sorry Ellie, I wasn’t spying, I just wondered whether you were coming back to finish up on your study session.’
‘Don’t worry, Dad will still pay you,’ she replied testily.
‘Hey, I’m not worried about that. Can I sit with you?’
She thumbed her lip in the dark. ‘Sure…yes, why not?
Sean walked over to her and found an old crate nearby. He pulled it up beside her, sat down and leaned back to look at the sky. Ellie settled back in her chair and followed his gaze.
‘If you follow the line of the Veil to the end, the thin end?…the second bright star in is GL-5. The colonial marine planet, GL5-D orbits that,’ he said.
‘Catchy name.’
He laughed.
They sat in silence with only the distant sound of Ted’s quacking laughter and the rustling weeds.
‘You’re going to see and experience a lot of wonderful things,’ Ellie said, trying to keep her voice steady. Going for something that sounded less like tearsome-wallflower-rebuffed.
‘I know. I’m really lucky that I got a draft ticket.’
‘Is there anything you’ll miss here on Harpers Reach?’
‘What? You mean apart from coming over here and trying to get basic math to stick in that goopy head of yours?’
Ellie chuckled. Sean wasn’t going to miss her, but it was nice of him to crack that funny anyway.
‘Not much else that I’ll miss I guess. Maybe my folks. But I’ll tell you what. I’ve got to admit I’m not looking forward to being frozen. They say in cryo-suspension that you’re not really asleep, just kind of slowed down, so that everything outside your pod seems to happen incredibly quickly like a speeded up holo-film. I don’t like the idea that you’re aware of everything going on but can’t do anything. Like some insect trapped in amber. Know what I mean? You’re, like, stuck in this see-through shell and there’s these things going on outside.’
Ellie’s gaze drifted to the pale glow in the far away sky above New Haven.
Yeah, I know what you mean.
‘There was this guy in cryo who survived when his freighter blew up…asteroid impact or something. But he saw it all happen. Okay, he saw it happen in funky speed-o-vision, but he was aware of it all happening. The ship breaking up, explosions in the cargo hold, the hull ripping open…and then all of a sudden spinning in space. And he knew he was screwed, but just couldn’t do anything about it. Knowing that he would just carry on spinning until the power supply eventually ran dry. I think that was on the toob news a while back.’
‘And they found him?’
‘Yup, he was out floating around for several weeks. They thawed him out and the guy was okay but hysterical. Understandably.’
‘Scary.’
‘Uhuh…I think he sold the rights or something and they’re making a holo-film of it. I guess it turned out alright for him in the end.’
‘Do you think you’ll do any fighting?’
‘I don’t think so, Ellie. It’s mostly a peaceful universe out there. Nothing much to do. Most of the alien cultures in our universe seem to be happy to simply muddle along with ours and trade. If you’re not into fighting, it’s a great time to be a soldier.’
‘What about that new encounter? The one that happened last year?’
‘I dunno, it’s not been in the news much has it? Last I heard, they seemed to be very aloof, but not threatening. Just a very quiet and spiritual race, I guess. The army seems to be more like a police force these days…the occasional terrorist group, but mostly minding that everyone’s being good and not breaking any laws.’
‘Sean…it’s not fair. You’re so lucky to get away from this godforsaken place.’
He couldn’t find a reply that felt right. They sat in awkward silence for a while. Sean had something on his mind, the reason he’d decided to come out and speak to her in the first place.
‘Ellie?…When exactly were you planning on running away from home?’
Her chair creaked in the darkness. She said nothing.
‘Well?’
He could hear Ellie fidgeting uncomfortably.
‘How do you know?’ she asked eventually.
‘Just a lucky guess. And the fact you’ve been hoarding your chore-money haven’t you?’
By the faint light he saw her pull a face. Heard the soft thwack of a fist against a thigh.
‘Ellie? When were you planning to go?’
‘Soon. After my birthday.’
‘New Haven?’
‘Yes.’
She turned to face him. In the green glow of the lamp he could see she looked nervous. ‘Please don’t tell anyone.’
‘You can’t just run off like that…without telling your Mum and Dad where you’re going.’
‘I will tell them…when I get settled and sorted out.’
‘It’s not going to be that easy. New Haven’s a rough place. A really rough place.’
‘I can get a job.’
‘That’s what I’m worried about. There are jobs and there are jobs. If you know what I mean?
‘I’ll work something out.’
Silent. The stirring of tubweeds, the burbling of the toob in the family dome.
‘Listen Ellie, I won’t tell anyone if you promise to wait a little longer. Why don’t you hang on here for a couple more years? Grow up a bit more and then try out city life, uh?’
‘Because I’ll go mad, that’s why. Because I can’t face the drudge of being a farm girl any longer. Every day the same old routine, and every night sitting out there and seeing the freighters pass in the sky, the glow of New Haven. Even seeing the faint twinkle of ships entering and leaving orbit and the flicker of light as they go into hyper. That’s the worst part, being teased with a glimpse of those ships, reminded of all the things out there I’ll never, ever, see. All the things I’m missing.’
Sean knew what she meant. Most of the farm kids living on isolated farm plots like theirs seemed to be content with their lot, but he, like Ellie, wanted to see more.
‘Listen Ellie, I’m not telling anyone, okay? I promise.’
She nodded gratefully.
‘But I’ve got to say something. Running away over there,’ he gestured in the direction of New Haven, ‘is going to be a hard deal. Life is harsh and expensive. I’ve been there a few times with my Dad. If you’ve got money, yeah, it’s a playground. But if you don’t…well, it can be rough. There’s all sorts living there, non-humans, off-worlders. There’re a lot of bad areas, a lot of people who will happily take advantage of you, rip you off.’
‘I know it’ll be hard at first. But I can’t not do it.’ She looked at him. ‘Does that make sense?’
He nodded gently. Of course it made sense. But he was worried that Ellie would walk into New Haven looking like the perfect target for every lowlife there. She was young for nineteen; looked young, behaved young. Add to that the instantly recognizable hick-naivety of some poor soil-scratcher from out of town looking to find her fortune. She’d be a walking target.
‘I know you’ve probably thought a lot about this, and think you’ve thought this all through and have some kind of perfect plan to get yourself sorted out quickly and-’
‘At least I’ve got to try.’
‘Sure, but maybe if you were to talk this through with your Mum and Dad, they’ll be able to help you.’
‘They’ll just try to talk me out of it Sean. You know that.’
‘Uh-huh. Of course they will. They at least deserve the chance to do that. Your Mum and Dad, they’re good people Ellie…they love you.’
‘I know, but don’t you think I’ve considered everything you’ve said just now? Crudge, I can see how my cruddy life goes…staying on here farming indefinitely and watching everyone else my age disappear off to the city or even leaving this world. And me, slowly growing old, alone in my own three-square-acre universe. If I don’t go soon I’ll find myself getting sucked into running Dad’s farm, and then I’ll never get the chance!’
He knew there was nothing he could say in response to that. Because she was quite right.
‘Please don’t tell them,’ she asked.
An awkward silence.
‘I’d better head back home, it’s getting late.’
‘Promise me you won’t tell anyone,’ Ellie pleaded.
‘I told you. I promise,’ Sean replied solemnly. ‘I’ll let myself out.’
He headed towards the entrance to the domestic area then found himself turning back to look at her. Ellie was gazing up again at the stars.
‘How much chore money have you managed to save?’ he whispered.
‘Three hundred and fifty-six creds.’
He winced. He guessed that was enough money to rent a room in the city for a couple of weeks, a seedy one at that. He could see a disturbing range of future scenarios ahead for her, the best-case one being her returning to this farm, her dreams of escape in tatters, broken-hearted and penniless.
‘I’ll see you same time next week; remember to bone up on that dom-tech module.’
Ellie didn’t reply. He thought that maybe she was crying.
OMNIPEDIA:
[Human Universe open source digital encyclopedia]
Article: Harpers Reach - The birth planet of Ellie Quin’
Harpers Reach was a planet in the Seventh Veil that was first charted and surveyed in 3041, seventy years after the Colonial Wars had come to an end. As a consequence, this new frontier planet had never, mercifully, experienced first-hand - unlike established worlds caught up in that conflict - the horrors of post-fusion warfare. It was, however, a planet on the very edge of Human Space, away from the densest trade routes and the prosperity that that brings. It was also woefully short of valuable, tradable natural resources that might have attracted commerce towards it. It’s only merit was that it offered a sizeable surface of seismically stable real estate.
Harpers Reach was always destined to be a poor, under-achieving, uninteresting frontier world. Doomed, like most of its inhabitants, to irrelevance from birth.
At the time of Ellie Quin’s childhood, Harpers Reach was in the middle of an extended economic recession. It was a planet that was still too young to have matured out of its two domed cities to establish extensive industry across the planet’s surface. In addition, the principal city, New Haven, a sprawling and squalid metropolis, was becoming swollen with ecological migrants from the nearby failed colony world of Celestion.
User Comment > SpingleBrick
I herd Harpers Reach wuz never real. Itz all mad up conspirisy by the govvyment cuz they like to make liez an stuff.
User Comment > BiiiiiG-Boy
Helloooo gentlemens! Is your sex drive failing you? Do you wish you could make love all night long like a true God!? Then try CosmoRod Stim-Shakers. Three strokes and your partner will be in seventh heaven!
User Comment > Anonymous
To the complete ditto-head above - Harpers Reach is real. And it’s still there you idiot. They do archaeological tours there. Look it up. (Why do all the stupidest people in the universe have to post here on Omnipedia? There’s plenty of other places uniweb for you vegetables to gather.)
User Comment > XXX-come-buy-XXX
want to buy black market alien sex tapes?
CHAPTER 4
Dr Edward Mason stared out of the window of his dark study, down at the azure panorama below. He loved this view. It would be the one thing he truly missed.
He turned his back on the blue vista of Pacifica, the ocean world, above which the labs hung in static orbit. There were things to be done. He was due on the mid-morning shuttle down to Pacifica, to all intents and purposes to embark on a long overdue two week sailing vacation, away from his work. But in actual fact Mason was quietly preparing to disappear for good; to leave behind his tiresome, largely managerial, role here at the Department of Genetic Analysis.
For thirty years Mason had been in charge of the enormous cluster of laboratories floating above Pacifica; three decades running the department for the Administration. And in that time, dutifully doing his job, overseeing his staff as they collated genetic data from the millions of paternity requests that flooded in from all corners of Human Space. Playing God; deciding which hopeful citizens would be granted permission to have children, and which would be denied.
Mason recalled the line from a popular song from a few years ago: it’s was all down to them genes, groovy-oovy genes, bay-beee!!
Playing with our genes – vetting, approving, editing, rewriting precious passages
of genetic data for convenience, to suit central government’s - the Administration’s - needs.
Oh yes, the department did a hell of a lot more than just collating the DNA of eager parents to-be. The ready-to-grow embryos that Mason’s department returned to those hopeful parents around the universe were mostly the product of their blood – with a few tweaks added for good measure.
Meddling, enhancing, along guidelines provided to Mason from the Administration. Small things of course; enhanced bone structure for embryos due to be returned to hi-gravity worlds, UV-resistant skin pigments for those returning to weak-atmosphere worlds. But also subtle behavioral adjustments to ensure these precious little embryos grew up to be reliable, compliant little citizens.
It had been like this since natural fertility had been bred out for practical reasons, many hundreds of years ago, each new generation was grown to order now. Each new generation tinkered with.
Mason sat down at his mock-mahogany desk and continued the task he had been working on all morning. He waved his hand over the desk sensor and his holo-screen display flickered on before him. His personal data space was full of essays and notes he had written during his long tenure here, essays that had grown more hectoring and worrisome in tone as the years had passed. Essays high-lighting the growing occurrence of serious congenital disorders, mutations. Little by little, the inevitable genetic errors, an unavoidable result of so much editing, were mounting up. And Mason was seeing the laboratories producing more and more freaks in-vitro with each passing week.
They were destroying the human genome.
Mason had long ago given up sending these essays of concern back to the Administration. He knew there was little they would do even if they wanted to. Population distribution within Human Space needed to be tightly managed. There were too many fragile young worlds in early phases of terraforming that could barely sustain their small populations. The paternity requests approved to those places had to be only for children of healthy, hardy parents who contributed in some way to that process. And even then, they needed tweaking to be that bit more healthy and productive than their parents.
