daynight (11 page)

Blake and I flit through the houses, being complete goofballs as we pretend to be an old Cleaved couple, ordering kids around and doing chores. We invite trouble as we do a little ‘gardening’ at one of the homes. Blake ‘accidentally’ throws a tomato to me without warning—claiming poor visibility—and it splatters across my white shirt. I return the favor and then it’s all out fruit and veggie war, and I smell like ‘citrus surprise’ by the end. Our escort informs us that lunch is served and that if we are hungry we can suck the pulp off our clothing. I about pass out working out on an empty stomach after that, but seeing Blake so covered with fruit that he had to take off his shirt made it worthwhile.

After our behavior during our first field trip, they nearly cancel the next, but I sweet-talk our escort, promising that we’ll be on our very best behavior. Our escort takes us by private train, only accessible by key card, to an unlabeled destination. We exit our train cars, and the man uses his access card again to enter an extremely long, but well lit tunnel with doors on either side, each located at least fifty to a hundred feet apart. We travel the great length by moving sidewalk, and after having counted five doors on each side we dismount the sidewalk, and our escort punches a long code into a keypad to grant us access. As the door opens, both Blake and I say, “Wow” simultaneously.

A perfect scale model of Garden City lays before us—residences, canyons, plants, headquarters and all. Despite being completely indoors, even the nighttime lighting has been recreated. Very cool, but again, why not let us explore the real thing? A bridge takes us over the simulated ‘Eco barrier’ and into the city. Dozens of representatives from the city’s industries are on hand to discuss career options in Garden City. I find it crazy they went to the expense of modeling the entire city just to host a career fair. But, it is better than watching training videos, so I keep my mouth shut. Even if it is a little disconcerting to try to find our way around in the dim lighting, relying on path lights and the hundreds of workers on site to point us in the right direction. Thankfully our ‘target destinations’ are well lit with spotlights illuminating outdoor classroom seating areas.

Solar technicians show us the vast fields of panels and how they convert the sun’s energy to raw power for the city. The small-scale desalination plant magically transforms salt water to drinkable water, and we taste the before and after to confirm it, the salt water reminding me of swimming and snorkeling at the beautiful San Diego beaches with my brother, Jared. We view hundreds of minerals and other natural resources excavated from Garden City canyons and learn they are used to improve life on Thera. Artists share mural technique and styles, and let us try our hand at sponge painting a tulip patch using stencils. One of the artists reminds me of a guy who used to live in our neighborhood, the resemblance striking, but I dismiss it as coincidence and faulty memory, not having seen him for years after his family moved.

Teachers show off the latest technology for interactive online classes. Doctors expound upon their advanced screening techniques that allow them to catch problems, including cancer and other diseases, in early stages. Members of the Grand Council, Garden City’s politicians, vaguely discuss how rules and regulations are proposed and passed using a simple majority. Business Importers handle trade with other Theran cities to insure Garden City residents are provided with everything needed.

I tarry with the DNT scientists, who let me see ‘native’ DNT under a microscope—fish-like organisms—and then their attempts at ‘artificial’ DNT, which looked like finless fish. Despite the fact I despise having my blood taken, I allow them to prick my finger so that I can see my own blood under the microscope and confirm that my DNT is indeed ‘native.’ The scientists hem and haw about the reason for their focus on DNT, but do confirm that the higher the levels, the easier travel between Thera and Earth becomes.

 
I search for Blake, who lost interest in the scientists’ spiel quickly. Given the poor lighting I scan for a white and silver Recruit uniform amongst the sea of blue and tan city employee uniforms. While being unsuccessful on my hunt, I happen upon the dockworkers. They’re unloading food and supplies off boats at the fake ocean mouth of the center canyon, and onto distribution trains, which run through tunnels to warehouse delivery locations. From there, distributors manually deliver to residences and workplaces with the help of pack mules. It’s weird to imagine a world without FedEx or UPS, semi-trucks, and cross-country trains, but Thera has no equivalents to any of these. I’m glad it all gets delivered in a timely fashion and they do give out samples, which quell my appetite, but given I have zero interest in the supply chain, I move on.

After wandering past the waste and recycling and cistern management centers without stopping—careers equally as dull as food distribution—I finally find Blake, who is embroiled in conversation with a ‘Foreign Relations’ specialist, dubbed a ‘Daynighter.’ The man handles relations between the Second Chance Institute offices on Earth and Garden City. Blake asks seemingly innocent questions like, “So how far do you have to travel to get to the exit portal?”, “Do you get to work directly with the Grand Council?”, and “How much time do you spend on either side?” He feigns great interest in the man’s work and likely learns more than he was supposed to, such as the fact the man works within the Council headquarters building, presents to them once a month, and splits his time equally between the two sides. The guy grandstands his job like it’s the second coming for both worlds’ political landscape. I listen to the exchange while enjoying the view out past the Eco barrier and towards the ‘ocean.’

Once burned out on foreign affairs, Blake drags me past the City Center Medical Clinic and directly to the Grand Council Headquarters’ building at the far end of a huge plaza. Unlike any other building in town, it stands apart with its stone edifice and multistory height. Tiny lights, embedded into the mortar, wash the building with stunning color and brightness that would win any Christmas light competition. If its scaled-down counterpart is any indication, the real Headquarters building must be spectacular. Given that it was built on the highest point of the highest canyon top, I’d have to imagine it can be seen for miles in every direction.

The same man who greeted us upon entry to Thera does so again. This time, he introduces himself as Brad Darcton, a member of the presiding Ten of the Grand Council. Or, in other terms, Theran bigwig.

Whereas we’d been allowed to question the other representatives, Brad grills
us
for twenty minutes about our experiences to date and areas of career interest based on what we’ve seen so far. He then explains in broad generalities about the work done within the headquarters building, including Cleave contracts, Council sessions, additions of new Canon to the Circle of Compliance, and rulings on adjustment to resident status on the Circle. When I dare ask how the government structure differs between Garden City and the other Theran cities he suddenly has an urgent meeting to attend and directs us towards the Weather Center for final instruction. Blake takes me by my hand, ready to move on.

I hesitate, dragging as I watch Brad Darcton enter the model Headquarter’s building and see a young man with dark hair and a five o’clock shadow greet Brad. I freeze in my tracks and yank my hand away from Blake. The guy looks a whole lot like Ethan, but I can’t get a good enough look. So, I briskly walk towards the building. Brad sees me and motions the man away.

Blake follows me and asks, “What are you doing, Kira?”
 

“That guy that Brad Darcton was talking to in there. I swear I know him,” I say. Perhaps I need psychiatric help. Every single time I see a dark haired guy I think it’s Ethan and my stomach goes haywire, I want it to be the case so much.

“Doubtful,” Blake says. “Come on, we’re due at the Weather Center.”

“Yeah,” I say. “I’m coming.” I stare back at the Headquarters building. It’s the not knowing that gets to me, I think. Ethan was never confirmed dead. The continual ‘what ifs’ are a killer. Brad steps back out of the building.

“Ms. Donovan, can I help you with something?” he asks. “Mr. Sundry, go ahead to the Weather Center. I’ll send her along shortly.” Blake looks concerned, but slowly walks away.

I ignore Blake and turn to Brad Darcton. “That guy you were talking to. Is his name Ethan? He looks so much like a guy I met on Earth.”

“Under what circumstances did you meet this… Ethan?” he asks.

“Oh, I met him at a party and we talked for a long time. But then he disappeared and I’ve been wondering what happened to him,” I say. I don’t bring up the explosion or the fact that Ethan may very well be dead, not wanting to sound crazy and all.

“I believe that you were warned in your training that you’d likely run into people on Thera that you’d known previously,” he says. “Need I remind you about our Rules concerning discussing past relationships or acknowledging you know them with Second Chancers? It’s important not to run up to every person you think you might know and try to figure out if you have some sort of shared past.”
 

“Was that man a Second Chancer?” I ask. Ethan didn’t seem to be the kind of guy who would do something where he’d need a second chance.

“We really try to make every citizen of Garden City feel important and not thrust labels on them,” he says. “Now run along and I’ll expect you to be more careful in the future.” I shiver, as his stern warning sounds more like a threat. Discussing the past with a Second Chancer is cause for immediate Exile, I remind myself. It’s a five minute walk to the Weather Center and I chastise myself the entire way for irking a member of the Ten.

“What was that about?” Blake asks.

“Brad was just refreshing me on the rules concerning Second Chancers. I really don’t get what it would hurt to acknowledge you knew someone before, but I’d definitely prefer to avoid making a member of the Ten angry again,” I say.

“No kidding. Don’t beat yourself up about it, though. I’m sure he was just trying to protect you from getting into trouble,” Blake says. “Let’s go learn about weather and get your mind off of it.”

“Let’s,” I say, although my attention is still back at what I saw transpire at Headquarters.

The Weather Center sits atop an ocean cliff and monitors incoming storms, as hurricane-level rains and flash floods threaten the community every few months. Ah, so there is rain here. They tell us they’re going to run us through a training drill that simulates the experience of being in the canyons during a storm, the description of which terrifies me and will likely give me nightmares for years. I’m so busy trying to decide whether it was Ethan I saw or not and what reason he could have to be on Thera that I completely miss the whole part about ‘how to survive a flash flood in the canyons.’ Mental note to avoid it so that my non-existent skills will be never be put to the test.

We hike down the mini canyon towards the cement floor, as directed, with some difficulty. Although the canyon lights create a spectacular show from afar, they don’t provide the best lighting to keep steady footing, alternating between blinding when close to the lights and barely visible away from them. Once close to the bottom of the canyon we hear a warning siren. Torrents of water and mud attack us from every angle. I immediately regret being inattentive during the survival lecture. Blake grabs a rope ladder, and then me, pulling us up toward safety as if he is some sort of pro. I can’t see or hear, much less climb. Blake works for both of us, saving my life. They wouldn’t have let us die in a training exercise, would they? Thankfully, Blake only had to pull me up a fraction of the way he’d have had to if we’d been out in a real canyon. A guy hanging from a zip line gives us a hand at the end and explains that he uses the lines during real emergencies to do rescues.

Mud covering every inch of our bodies, our escort arrives to shuttle us to the gym to shower and exercise. As we mount the moving sidewalk to return to the train, both Blake and I notice another door open and get a glimpse inward before our escort shields our view. From the slice I saw, it had to be a scaled down version of Farm City and although neither of us comments, we both know that behind each door lays each of the settled Theran cities and a wealth of knowledge only obtainable by reaching the Grand Council inner circles. Our escort attempts a cover up by saying, “That’s a test farm to see if Garden City soil will work for growing food.”

Even he knows his explanation falls short.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Ethan

“So I talked to her that night. What’s the big deal? She couldn’t find her slimeball boyfriend or best friend and I helped her out,” I say as I pace the floor of the scaled down administration building.
She’d been less than fifty feet away and
recognized
me and my father refused to let me talk to her. He ushered me away and then went out to scare her off. For two months I’ve felt like a freaking peeping Tom, watching her from afar, banned from getting anywhere near her. The only time I’d been allowed in spitting distance was upon her arrival when they’d drugged her and I’d been used to transport her to her room.
 

“Your orders were clear. Observe only,” my father says. “She says the two of you talked ‘for a long time.’ That’s a far cry from observation.”

“For years you searched for the perfect female specimen to Cleave to me. You find a pure Light, send me to watch her and expect me not to see for myself whether she’s cleavable material?” I say incredulously. “What better way to observe than to have a conversation? I don’t specifically remember you specifying that I
couldn’t
talk to her.” What does he expect from a law student? I’m hard-wired to find loopholes.

“I told you there was competition,” he says. “The Grand Council voted to partner the two of them and see how things progressed, given the boy Blake’s clean health record.”

I run my hands through my hair. All my life, I’ve listened to my parents complain ad nauseum about my heart defect. Even though I have a completely clean bill of health now, it still haunts me, and if Kira ends up with Blake, it always will. “I’m not okay with this. I plan to talk to Dr. Christo and see what the real odds are for my heart defect being passed along. All I want is a shot… to date her and see where things go.”