One Billion Drops of Happiness (12 page)

She spent the morning tracing the origins of the amendments. Ever-efficient, her list had one more name by only half past eleven. Reinhardt, Amethyst, the mirage said. The name responsible for the amendment was Mr. Henry Excelsior. She tapped her arm and waited for the phone to dial.

* * *

‘Xandria, you said you wouldn’t come by tonight. I’m afraid I’m busy…’ Henry rapped, firm lipped without looking away from his mirage schematic. A large glowing grid of the New America filled the office from floor to ceiling. As Xandria tentatively approached Henry, she suspected he had subtly increased the size of the map so that it deliberately blocked her vision of him.

‘I just wondered whether you really know what you’re doing,’ Xandria said quietly, waiting for Henry to bristle.

Henry stared back at her emptily.

‘What on Earth do you mean?’ He pronounced the words slowly, as if each word was weighed down with a cautionary scimitar.

‘ I feel that…’

‘But do you really feel?’ Henry retorted aggressively. ‘Nobody feels these days. Cut out the clichés.’

‘Well have you thought about the breathing tax? How much to charge and so on? Will it be proportional to income?’ Xandria said, waiting for her Suppressitor to console her but to no avail. ‘And as for world domination, isn’t it a bit far, I mean, shouldn’t you live and let live?’

There was an agonising pause in which Henry’s steely eyes did not move a micron from her face.

‘This is all dull banality.’ Henry said finally. ‘Why do I need to discuss this with you? Your intellect leaves much to be desired.’

‘What an unreasonable statement, what could you mean?’ Xandria’s voice rose in shock. Maybe this was a side-effect of the injection. She had never heard of the opposite reaction occurring.

‘Your intellect is so low that you think amending the government database on my computer will not be found out.’

Her mouth hung. Quick, her brain urged, find an excuse. Now, now, now. But her brain could find none; she had not anticipated ever being found out. Distract him; stall him, her brain supplied. But the weight of his stare rendered her unable to form any thoughts.

‘Exactly.’ Henry said. ‘All I know beyond a shadow of a doubt is that you are the only person who had access to my office to make an amendment. I don’t know what it is you amended, and frankly I don’t want to know. What I realise now is that you could not care less if you brought my name through the mud. You’re very lucky that the nice lady at the government accepted my convoluted excuse. You could go to jail for that, you know.’

His face looked harder than she had ever seen. She had the urge to get out of his office as soon as she could. Her Suppressitor was not working, she was beginning to perspire.

‘It’s good you came by,’ he continued evenly. ‘I wanted to tell you that I never want to see you again. You may as well be Signed Off to me. Now go.’

She turned and whisked out of his office, squeezing her Suppressitor with all her strength until a few sprinkles of calm half-heartedly arrived as if to pat her on the back.

* * *

Some weeks later, Henry, Reginald and Okadigbo were summoned to an emergency meeting in the government headquarters. Okadigbo and a handful of rising government officials were already waiting in the boardroom when the Excelsiors arrived. Okadigbo rose gratefully; he had long since run out of awkward conversation with his subordinates.

‘Welcome, sirs,’ he said.

Henry nodded in his usual fashion and took a seat with his father.

‘We have been called today to catch up on the latest situation threatening our nation,’ Okadigbo said. The subordinates made noises of agreement, each competing to make the most knowledgeable sounding grunt in case there were appraising eyes watching them in the wall. ‘As we all know, Suppressitors have been breaking down to a greater extent than initially thought. The scientists thought that the brief glitches would be our biggest problem for a year at least. We thought we’d bought enough time. Alas, friends, we were wrong…’

Reginald interrupted.

‘We know all this. Did you hear only yesterday that old Edgar Ptolemy was rushed to hospital with suspected major Suppressitor failure? That’s irreversible!’

‘I knew this,’ Okadigbo confirmed quickly, secretly feeling spores of anger multiplying deep within his core. He had not known this. There was no longer any form of news shared within the country. All the important information was circulated by the government. Anything else was surplus; an unnecessary diversion. Damn the Excelsiors. Everybody ran to them with the news, never to Okadigbo.

‘Poor guy,’ Reginald mused. ‘They say the only time it will work is when he begins to giggle uncontrollably. His Suppressitor kicks in after about a minute. Other than that he’s stuffed. Weeping like an old world crazy, they say.’

‘We need to bring the country under control. We have not seen such pandemonium since the Inauguration.’ Henry said. ‘Perhaps Ptolemy’s is a rare case, he was getting old. If we advise everybody to go about their business as usual and avoid inflammatory situations, then hopefully that will see us through until at least August the fourteenth.’

‘And if the county vote no?’ Reginald prompted.

‘Impossible.’ Henry said. ‘Our country knows what is best for them; the vote is purely a show of democracy.’

‘But we have been using this interim period wisely, yes?’ Okadigbo asked greasily. ‘We have been carrying out all the right tests and suchlike, so that when the country votes ‘yes’ we can proceed immediately?’

‘It’s not as simple as that.’ Henry said, exchanging a glance with Reginald. The subordinates sat unmoving. ‘We have tested Ophelium in a small-scale manner. But we cannot be certain of its large-scale effects until we actually roll it out nationwide.’

‘Good, then let’s try it for a day on August the fifteenth.’ Okadigbo suggested. ‘Iron out any creases while we still can.’

‘Not so easy.’ Henry said. ‘Zachary DuPont is certain that the gas will blow over to the Old World. Actually, there’s no reason why it won’t. He’s threatened war if we go ahead, even for a small-scale trial.’

‘What!’ Okadigbo shrieked, wildly looking around the room for anyone with a similar reaction. There was no-one. ‘I can’t tell people this! We’ve not had a war since forever!’

‘Compose yourself,’ Henry said impatiently. ‘We’ll face that hurdle if we come to it.’

‘We will come to it I’m sure,’ said Reginald grimly. ‘There’s no way we will find an alternative to Ophelium in time. We need this stuff like the air we breathe.’

‘Then we’ll need to start planning,’ Henry said briskly. ‘We can persuade some countries to join us, that won’t be difficult. Wheel out some robots to do our bidding, see if we can revoke the anti-robot law…’

‘Stop, stop!’ Okadigbo shrilled. ‘You cannot talk about war so flippantly…and no, I won’t calm, put those faces away! I am not stupid, this is serious. What were you doing all this time, twiddling your thumbs? I trusted you implicitly; I have now lost face to the entire country. Nobody wants to waste time going to war, what will become of our nation? All these years down the drain thanks to a bunch of eejits who have great big ideas but can’t get off their lazy bums...’

Okadigbo stood up violently and in a rare show of defiance stalked out of the room as dramatically as he could with his heavy feet.

‘You people make me sick. ‘Calm it, calm it’….I’ll show you calm…’ He continued growling until his voice disappeared out of earshot, but it took a considerable amount of time before the same could be said about his feet.

Henry regarded the subordinates with no change in his expression.

‘Now, the second thing we wanted to discuss…they still haven’t found Voss…’

Today was the big day. August the fourteenth. The day that the country would decide whether to press forward with Ophelium. The weather was one of those completely fair days, when the sky was sufficiently bright with a constant promise that at any minute the sun could break through, except it never did. Outside on the streets one could hardly guess that such a monumental event was dangling ahead in time. The cars whizzed by as usual in perfect silence, people bustled in and out of skyscrapers quite as normal, some accompanied by disgruntled looking mirages that only they could see.

‘Watkins, make sure you get that report to me by tomorrow or I swear I’ll skin you…’

‘What time do you call this, Jacobssen?’

‘Good morning sir, do you have the prototype?’

‘Space trip? I’d love to…’

It seemed that the city had forgotten what the date was; either that or they were too efficient to notice. Such a well oiled society, it kept moving with no time for idle postulation.

* * *

Henry stood alone in his office, completely enshrouded in darkness. The anticipation was electrifying. He could barely breathe. The mirage in front of him remained engaged in binary thought. Soon it would present the answer in one simple word. Yes or no. Thirty seconds to go.

Outside the city lights glowered with the naive hope of fifty million people. In the dusky corner of his office, his astral sphere suddenly flickered and caught his eye.

Twenty seconds. From a far flung corner of the dome, something swirled and emitted an almighty flare of light. The radiance was blinding.

Ten, nine, eight. Henry watched in wonder, barely breathing. A star had just died. In a split second it had gone, leaving the sheerest gossamer trail diffusing in its wake. The planets bobbed and swelled in slow motion.

Three, two, one…

The room burst into light. The country had chosen a new life.

Yes.

* * *

In the dimly lit bedroom on the one hundred and eightieth floor, Xandria perched, counting the seconds until midnight, her face illuminated by the flickering flames of pseudo-fire she had ignited in despair. Suddenly the telephone rang. She could not understand why, but her heart began to pound in her chest like a bruise.

The mirage of the Space Exploration Committee logo blew up in her room as she answered. It seemed larger than ever tonight. Silver. Outside the moon glowed like never before. A great ball in the night sky, maternal spectator to Earth since the day it all began.

‘Hello?’ she whispered timidly. She automatically reached for her Suppressitor. Something didn’t seem right.

‘Xandria…’ came the response of her mother. She had never, ever heard her use this tone before. Her voice was full of emotion; strangled, hoarse.

‘Xandria, my darling soul. We need you to be strong…’

‘Why…why…what’s wrong?’ Xandria stuttered, the blood suddenly rushing to her feet.

‘We don’t have long. Thirty seconds tops…’

‘Wha – but…’

‘Shhh. It’s okay. Only listen now…’

The candles flickered softly. Her head was aflame.

‘Listen…The spacebus has lost its route and it can’t turn back. There’s nothing they can do. We’re lost, sweetheart. We’re lost. We’re past Neptune, we’re on the very edge of the solar system. But it’s broken. Broken and we can’t come back…Do you understand me?’

Twenty, nineteen, eighteen.

The stars could melt, but the moon knew secrets it would never tell.

‘No, no….’ The room seemed to tip to the side.

Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen.

‘Shhh, be brave for us. We can’t come back…we can’t. We don’t know what’s out there, or how long we’ll last. But we have to continue…’ The line fizzed. ‘No fear, darling. They’re losing communication with us. In a few seconds we’ll be gone…life is precious, always remember….we’re free, free…’

Nine, eight, seven.

Somewhere out there, moon-rivers stumbled into lakes. Hadn’t she read somewhere that the universe had no beginning or end?

‘Goodbye…Xandria…’

Her voice suddenly ripped from her lungs against the gradient of her declining Suppressitor, king of all distracters.

‘Don’t! Don’t go!’

Because forever is eternity and hopes cannot be built on fragility.

‘We love you. So, so much…’ The line crackled. Her mother was heaving with sobs.

Three, two, one.

Xandria had lost the will to breathe. It felt like her insides were being embalmed.

‘Wait! Wait….!’

Zero.

‘I…I love you…’ She choked finally.

But they had not heard her. They were already gone.

Lost in the nebula.

And then there was only nothing.

Scalding hollowness. A screeching abyss of emptiness. And silence.

They were never coming back. The realisation hit her like a bellowing freight train. It was too unbearable for words.

With a strangled cry she buckled to the floor, the cold anonymous floor, as her heart gouged and shattered for the very first time. The pain singed every cell of her being. It minced her, mangled her, drowned her in all its callousness. And the moon, the moon!

Take me now! Her mind screamed blindly, please! Take this searing hurt away from me. If this is hurt then I don’t want to feel anymore! Release me from this wretched misery, I will not partake! Oh, how they were right all along, I’d rather die! Let me die! Please somebody help me!

But there was nothing and no one to fix her; her skies had come crashing down, and all that was left was a vision of ceaseless grief, crumpled beneath the shredded starlight.

The airplane she was travelling in was entirely transparent from floor to ceiling. Clouds wafted vacantly beneath the soles of her feet; great blots of disinterest. Every now and then the sea peeked up at her as the plane dipped in altitude.

It was lucky that she wasn’t afraid of heights. Perhaps that would pose a problem to aeronautical design now that Suppressitors were on the wane.

And the water beneath! Eons after this great planet had come about, the story remained the same – that humans could still be snuffed out by the sea in an instant. She had heard that there was a lot of water in Norway. How a country could survive in this century alongside the stuff, she did not know. New America had drained most of the large, natural expanses long ago. Rivers, lakes, waterfalls – they were now prosperous urban cities. It was too unnerving for the people to live alongside something that they could not control nor know its secrets.