Serving salvation, p.19
Serving Salvation, page 19
“I haven’t had coffee… never mind.”
Joro tilted her head. “What?”
“I haven’t had coffee since my father died.”
“Oh.” She looked sad. “I send a pound forward every Flyaway Day. Engineer’s Special Blend, they call it.”
“Yeah, my father stacked it on a shelf in his cabin. My cabin now.” I put that coffee in the back of the office closet. I’ll get it out when I get back. He wiped a hand over his face. “Engineer, it would be my honor if you joined me in a cup.”
“My pleasure.”
They turned and rose from their chairs too quickly and, not seeing each other, managed to bonk foreheads when they met in the middle. Hard. They fell back into their chairs, groaning at the same time.
“Sorry, Joro!”
“Owww. Jerk.”
He rubbed his head. “What do you eat for breakfast? Granite?”
“You should talk!”
Their mutual laughter came from their guts as they took turns shoving each other’s shoulders.
“Joro?”
“Yes, Charles?”
“You go first.”
She stood slowly, comically eyeing him as she walked away. He stood and followed, thinking again that the Burners’ brown uniforms did nothing to accentuate her figure.
Careful! You’re assuming things and feelings that aren’t real.
A few minutes later, they sipped their coffee as they waited for the rations to warm up.
“Any idea what we’re eating tonight?” he asked.
“It’s best not to know. The food will be hot, and it will fill your stomach, but taste is a whole different thing.”
“Roger that.” He mulled over how best to say what was on his mind then decided to cut the crap. “You’re a different person from the one I met weeks ago, Joro.”
“Really?”
“More solemn.”
“Sadder, you mean.”
“Yes.”
She sipped her coffee. “The death of my Badge had a lot of ramifications. Negative ones. We’re no closer to finding his killer, either.”
“What about the missing child?”
“Even more complex, but not for the reasons you think. People go missing from the Back all the time. Dozens of people a year, which is not many in the big picture, considering there are thousands of Burners. When anyone goes missing, the automatic assumption is they went to the Ring. Most of the time, we’re right. Life is hard in the Back, and the Ring sounds like Heaven.”
“It’s not all rainbows and unicorns,” Charles said.
“You and I know that.” Joro set down her cup. “The funny thing is most runaways return to the Back. They get bored. Anyway, when we get a missing child report, we do what we can, but depending on their age, we usually write them off as a runaway and move on.”
She sighed. “But this time, things are different. I feel it, the Chief Badge feels it, and all the Badges feel it. Too late, though. It cost us one of our own, and we are all pissed. The Badges are working around the clock and finding nothing. They’re hurting in more ways than one.”
You’re hurting, too. You’re mad, but there’s pain, too. “Is there anything we can do?”
“Give us time. Murderers always make mistakes. Maybe not yet, but they will. And when we get them, we’ll make sure we have an airtight case for the Triumvirate.”
“Let me know.”
“Will do.”
The heater on the counter beeped. Joro pulled out the silver packets and dropped one in front of him. “Don’t think about it. Just eat.”
“Thanks.” He tore open a corner and began sucking on the contents, forcing himself not to taste whatever was passing through his mouth. Like Joro said, it was warm and filling. “The package says this is meatloaf. What did you get?”
“Chicken stew.” Her face showed her low opinion of it.
“Have you ever seen a live chicken?”
“Nope. You?”
“Never.”
She took his empty packet and dropped it in a recycler with hers. “Want to know what I’m thinking?”
“Always.”
“I’m not in a rush to go back. I might crash in the bunk room.”
Here goes. Charles steeled himself and took her hand. “You said the Captain’s cabin has one bed.”
“Oh.” She looked at their hands. “Charles.”
“Joro.”
“I like you. I think… I’m attracted to you. At the very least, I am glad someone here understands what I do and why I do it. I feel less alone.”
He nodded. “But you’re seeing someone.”
“No, that’s the problem.” She rubbed his hand, and he mentally willed it not to tremble. “I was at the end of a relationship when you and I talked in the café after the Triumvirate. A happy relationship, I thought, but it was coming to an end. I was about to tell my partners that I was not renewing our contract, but things fell apart anyway. Suddenly.”
She looked sad. “One day I’m throwing dirty socks in the recycler and listening to breakfast being made in the kitchen. Today, there’s no sign that anyone but me ever lived in my cabin. No one makes the bed anymore. No dirty laundry but mine. Our contract formally ended last month. I called them and told them that I was not renewing it.”
“Ouch.” Charles took a sip. “How did they take it?”
“Guess.”
“They were expecting it?”
“Yes and no. My older partner was, but we’ve been together forever. He knows me pretty well. The younger one…well, that was complicated. I think he thought I changed my mind about breaking up. When I said I didn’t, he took it hard and ended the call. I feel like I should apologize to him, to both of them, but I also feel I can’t talk to them out of the blue. One or both of them might get the wrong idea again and think we’ll get back together.”
“No?” Charles asked.
“No. The real problem is… someone made me realize our throuple was a physical relationship, that I hadn’t shared myself or devoted myself emotionally to them. I took them for granted. If we get back together, I don’t know if I would do anything different. If that’s true, and I think it is, that’s not fair to them. They deserve to love and to be loved.”
“You’re not wrong.”
Joro took a drink. “Things are unbelievably complicated.”
“Is it worse because you’re the Engineer?” Charles asked.
“That’s a big part of it. It would take all day to explain.” Joro seemed to be holding something back, but she kept talking. “So here I am. Alone and lonely, and this handsome, powerful young man in a blue uniform comes into my life, and I’m a little smitten. Then you offer something more physical and real, and every part of me wants to follow you into your cabin.”
Charles sighed. “When you put it that way, this would be a monumental mistake when you’re this vulnerable.”
“Yes.”
“It’s possible you’re overthinking things. I’m offering a night of being close. How close is up to you.”
“I appreciate that. I just don’t want to make another mistake.”
But we’re still holding hands. “Tell me what you need, Joro. I’m a big boy. I can take it.”
“I need… I need… I have no idea what I need, Charles. Maybe sleep.”
“Fair enough. And Joro?”
“Yes?”
“Should I wait?”
Her eyes grew big, and she stood suddenly then bent to kiss his cheek. “Thank you. You’ll know your cabin when you see it. Good night.” She was gone in a puff of air.
“Good night,” he said to the empty room. Blowing out a breath, he dropped their cups in the recycler and walked to the back of the shuttle. The first door on the other side of the bulkhead was labeled Captain in large letters. He slid the door to the side.
As promised, the room was quite small. The bathroom in his cabin in the Front was twice as large. The narrow bed was covered in a fresh sheet and blanket, he was glad to see, and he sat and pulled off his boots. “Ahh.” He stripped down to his underwear and carefully hung his uniform in the narrow closet next to the tiny bathroom. He refreshed himself and turned off the lights then crawled into the bed, taking a second to untuck the sheets and blanket so his feet could hang off the edge.
“All the comforts of home,” he whispered as he thumped the pillow a couple of times. Lying back, he expected to fall asleep right away, given his exhaustion, but he seemed to be too excited.
Is it Joro, the coffee, or this shuttle? Or maybe it’s because I’m here, and Landfall is starting to feel real?
The bed warmed to his body, and he was finally drifting away when the door slid open.
“Are you awake, Charles?” Joro whispered.
“Yes.”
“If you promise me that this will mean nothing tomorrow, can I come in?” She was a silhouette in the dark, wearing a long shirt. Her legs were bare.
“Big promise. Can you keep it?”
“Ask me tomorrow. You?”
“Ask me tomorrow.” He threw back the covers.
Tomika
Keven’s house in the Ring looked exactly like Tomika expected: nothing like anything around it. His neighbors lived in their small English manors with various Elizabethan curves and flourishes, but Keven’s place was a square gray box with one floor and one window. Tomika seen others like it on her tour around the Ring—they were former warehouses used to hold the neighborhood landscaping supplies.
She understood why Keven lived here. He lived his life in an Engineer’s cabin with precise corners and no view of the outside world. Even so, the sight made her a little sad, knowing that he never truly fit in among the Burners, and here he was again, the obvious outlier. The literal square peg in a round world.
She hefted her backpack as she steeled herself and knocked on the door.
Keven’s voice rang out. “Go away!”
The voice didn’t come from inside. Tomika walked to the rear of the house. Keven sat with his back to her, and when she looked over his shoulder, he appeared to be reading a real book, not a pad or tablet. He was ignoring the soccer game in the field in the distance.
“I’ve never seen one of those,” Tomika said.
“And you will likely never see another again. Did you hear me? Go away!”
“Keven.”
“Joro, you retired me. I’m staying retired!”
Joro? “I’m not my mother, Keven.”
“Eh? Come around. Come around. Oh, my stars and garters. Tomika! You’ve grown! Give an old man a kiss on the cheek then get yourself a chair.”
Tomika did as she was bid, thinking that Keven always appeared old to her but never as old as he was now. What used to be gray in his full beard was now white, and no hair remained on his large head. His belly was larger, and it shook before as he talked, and she was sure his cheeks would still turn red whenever he “got his Edinburgh temper rolling,” like he used to say. He was wearing a one-piece coverall like many wore in the Ring, and his feet were bare and pale.
“Tomika, you’re not wearing ponytails anymore.”
“Keven, that was fifteen years ago.”
“My God, you talk exactly like her. That’s not an insult, you know. I have the greatest affection for your mother.” He pointed at a small pitcher on a table near him. “Glass of water?”
“Please.”
“Could you pour, dear? A second glass is under there. I will never get used to having this much water after sending every spare drop in the Back to our farms. The Ring doesn’t know how blessed they are.” He chuckled.
She liked his laughter—it seemed to come from his entire body, like his anger. Like her mother, he didn’t suffer fools, and he gladly roasted them with his fury back in the day. It was a remarkable sight when you weren’t the target.
She filled their glasses and took a sip. “Thank you. What are you reading?”
He held up the book. “Our history. Specifically, what led our people to build and board this ship many years ago.”
“They taught us all that in school.”
“Not this,” Keven said. “Read the cover.”
It took Tomika a moment to translate the words. “‘The Cyborg Pacts.’ The letters are weird.”
“Yes, well, we’ve tried to keep our written language consistent with that of the Original Builders, but some changes are bound to creep in. Once you get used to the differences, it’s no matter at all.”
Tomika wasn’t ready to spring the reason for her visit on him. “Tell me about them. The Pacts.”
“That’s not why you are here.”
“I’m still curious.”
Keven eyed her suspiciously. “You have something on your mind, but I suppose you’ll tell me in your good time.” He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “A sad tale from beginning to end, starting with the raping of Mother Earth and the use of pilotless drones. They’re connected. All of it is our truest history, the reason we’re on this old boat. It’s a long story.”
“I have the time.”
“Fine.” He settled into his chair. “Humankind long treated their planet like a garbage dump, and its deep oceans were turned into chemical- and nuclear-waste disposal sites. You know all this. Man never got over his belief that natural resources were infinite, and sadly, we are here because of that mistake. God forgive us if we make the same mistake again. This was before the Builders created this first and only Apocalypse Ship—”
“Excuse me?”
Keven opened his eyes and smiled as he patted the arm of his chair. “Salvation was called many things, but she was called the Apocalypse Ship by most humanity at the time. Seats and passage were sought after fiercely. Some of those destined to be left behind became combative and tried to interfere with its departure. They were nearly successful. That’s a story for another day.”
“Fine.” Tomika wanted to hear more, but Keven told his tall tales at his pace.
“Where was I? Ah, yes. Decades before the Apocalypse Ship program was set in motion, nations built offensive armies for the purpose of gathering and protecting natural resources, notably water.” He pointed at the pitcher for emphasis. “Smaller countries could not hope to compete with larger countries, so they entered mutual alliances and began building armies. The situation became tenuous and volatile quickly, with incursions here and there, until someone fired a destructive weapon where it did not belong, killing untold thousands. A world war began. The last world war of many.
“The largest country predicted this outcome and had already taken a dramatic leap in military technology. They decided that if pilotless drones could dominate the skies, why not try something similar on the ground? Using the most advanced science on the planet, they built a robotic army with a most horrid twist. Perhaps the greatest war crime in the history of human history, and that’s saying something.”
“I don’t want to know, do I?” Tomika asked.
“I’ve seen the film and still have nightmares, my dear. Not exaggerating.”
“Tell me.”
Keven shuddered. “Cloned human brains. Able to think and aim their weapons as each situation required with maximum damage and death. Programmed to kill without remorse, without ethics, and without feelings. Mankind’s most perfect killing machines, guided on their missions from distant locations around the world. Combined with the technology of the times, fifty of them could wipe out a small town and often did. No one was spared.
“As a positive result to this story, the Cyborgs brought the rest of the world together. After all, ‘The enemy of my enemy is my friend.’ It took years, but united as they never were before, mankind finally destroyed the Cyborgs and the country that gave birth to them. But billions died in the effort, and the planet was left more devastated than before. Much more devastated.
“Those who were left realized they were living on borrowed time, and they became the Original Builders who set the Apocalypse Ship program in motion. Sadly, or ironically, or fortuitously, depending on your level of cynicism, the billions who died meant resources were consumed at a slower pace, but everyone could see the end was nigh. Through this sad paradox, the Builders were given the time needed to engage in the most ambitious and positive space-going project in our existence—the Apocalypse Ship program.”
Keven paused, nodding. “Built under the banner of unification and survival, the construction of Salvation proceeded as rapidly as you would think when people realized the race would die as one without it. Even so, the program was not universally applauded. Many believed too much was being directed at construction and not enough to the survivability of those left behind. Despite what happened in their lifetimes, another war almost broke out. As it goes, however, when the rich and powerful really want something to happen, it happens. Our ship was built, it was launched to the stars, and the tens of thousands aboard were saved.”
Keven wiped his eyes. “As far as we know, ours was the only one built, though others were promised. My old, tired heart can’t help but believe Earth is no more. Even if I am wrong, the fate of the millions left behind is unknown.”
Tomika’s mind reeled, and she tried to find some sense in his words. “But there must have been attempts to change things.”
“Several.” He smiled gently. “I understand your conflict. You’ve been raised in a culture with a centralized government, one that’s existed for thousands of years since we left Earth. There was no single global government until the Original Builders were formed to save humanity. Even then, their grasp was tenuous. Care to guess the identity of their greatest adversary?”
“I have no idea.”
Keven filled their glasses from the pitcher, a move Tomika was sure he was making for dramatic effect. “The Catholic Church.”
She almost dropped her glass. “No.”
“Yes. They were passionate in their beliefs that mankind remain on the planet where our Savior walked. It didn’t matter that the part of the world He inhabited had long been irradiated by warfare and made uninhabitable. Probably still is, in fact. Nevertheless, the Church was adamant. They were prepared to excommunicate any and all who boarded Salvation. Their stance was powerful and not to be underestimated. They were one of the last historical worldwide political bodies on the planets.”
