J Mauldin - Final Solution

After the show was over, Dour Face found Rosaleigh out in the hall, harassing her over something I could not hear. She laughed at him, not with him, and he got mad, real mad. He put a hand on her arm trying to calm her, but she slapped it away. I thought for a second I might need to butt in and say something, but he threw his hands up and stormed off, smelling of wounded pride. Rosaleigh rolled her eyes at me and vanished inside her quarters.

My shift ended and I snuck back to my digs. Several crewmembers were sound asleep and the lights were already low. Perfect.

I took a drink of water, slipped on some VR goggles and laid back in my bunk, sheets piled on top of me in a mountain of linens.

While inside the simulation, I would be vulnerable. I prayed that no one would murder me as I closed my eyes. César wasn’t here to watch my back.

Random colors flickered past my vision for an instant, resolving into a series of green shapes. I was now inside the virtual interface of our information network, a series of screens with nothing but hierarchical icons and text. Using direct brain impulse, instead of fingers, I keyed up the channel Liberty had given me. A password dialog appeared. Was there a new security protocol? Or was this…

“Another one of Lib’s games,” I mumbled, the sub-vocalization not leaving my consciousness. “Hmm. What could it be? What could it be?”

I began to try various passwords, hoping there was no lockout on attempts. “ Lib ? Nope, not that. Shocker. Too short anyways. Umm, Crystal Caves ? Nope. Skimmer ? Skimm—eh—er crash ? Damn, I could have sworn that was the one. Jangle jangle wigwam ? Ehh. That girl from math class maybe? Kelly Fry Sack Attack ? Marlo Barlo ? Wait.”

This wasn’t working. I needed to change my approach.

“Let’s try some late 20th Century pop culture. If she was paying attention in film class, then I know she was listening during our music discussions. Rock—you—like—a hurricane ? Nope. We’re halfway there ? Okay, maybe try it without the apostrophe. Damn, should have known that was crap. Movies then. 42 ? Life, the universe . No… Klaatu —this is bullshit! What the hell was she on about? I swear, that girl can never keep things simple. Can’t just invite a guy over to hang out with you, gotta run him through a bunch of games and call him—”

I cut myself off as a thought bobbed on the surface of my liquefied grey matter. There it was. I keyed a five-letter word into the dialog and was rewarded with sweet victory. The channel unlocked, transporting me into a white room where Liberty sat waiting, legs crossed in a leather arm chair, looking both smug and prim, fingers steepled before her nose. It was her best skill, appearing tough but coldly confident—composed like an evil genius. I half expected her to state in a voice much like her father’s, “This is the construct”, while extending an arm in invitation.

“Ah ha!” She fumbled with her knees while trying to smooth out her virtual clothes, a distressed green t-shirt and pair of fitted jeans strategically ripped down the front. “I see you figured it out.”

I scowled at her. “The password? Mmhm. Come on, Davie ? Seriously? You made the password Davie? You know damn well I hate that nickname. Makes me sound like a girl.”

“Well you know what?” She raised a finger and pointed at me. “I hate Lib, so take that, butt face.”

“Butt face?” I crossed my arms. “Whoa. What are we, teenagers again?”

She buried her face in the side of the chair, but I could see her suppressed chuckles by the jerking of her shoulders. “Feels like it sometimes.”

I used a simple thought to summon a chair I once saw in a magazine. It was made of bright green microfiber, not stiff brown leather like hers. I collapsed into it, feeling every thread as if it were real. I would have to get me one of these when we made it back home, or something equally as comfy.

“So, if we’re teenagers again, then your memory has us getting shot at all the time? I don’t ever recall that.”

“It was every other Tuesday.”

“Uhuh. And were we crammed in tubes, forced to suck on recycled air?”

“I believe that was Saturdays.”

“Well, then were we constantly under threat of decompression and a quick, painful death?”

“Every second of every day. And don’t forget dust storms.”

I rubbed my chin and peered at the endless white washed vista filling every nanometer of false reality around us. “Well then, maybe it is about the same. I certainly get in trouble near as much as when we were teenagers, however, there’s less drinking now. Far less.”

She rolled her eyes. “Man, don’t I know it. Sucks to be in a dry county without a ride.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“Want some more interesting surroundings than this white washed decor?”

I tipped my head back over the arm of the chair, blood rushing into my forehead. “What did you have in mind?”

“Presto changeo!” She clapped twice, hurling us into a rolling meadow of brilliant wildflowers nestled beside a blue lake at the foot of mammoth snowcapped mountains. I sucked in a breath and tumbled out of the chair, cool grass cushioning my fall.

“You okay?” she asked, half laughing.

My forehead tingled. The sky above reached out for ages, clear as azure crystal and sobering in its awesome scale. After being in such a confined space for so long, the expanse was dizzying. “Hey, where are we? I know Earth, but—”

“Some place in the Swiss Alps, like a scene from that movie, what was it called? The Sound of Music? Bunch of whitewashed Eastern European nonsense. Glad it’s not like that out here.” She shivered as if a swift breeze had given her a chill. “Hot damn, it feels nice to change the world—using your words.”

“Hot damn indeed. But, by the way, you’re thinking of Austria. The Sound of Music took place in Austria. Maybe you didn’t pay as much attention in class as I thought.”

“Whatever.” She shook her head.

“You know, I have to say,” I raised a finger, “Mars is beautiful and all, breathtaking even, but this, I mean… Why aren’t we back in the cradle with the rest of mankind? We’re hurtling towards a near dead, red rock in a silver bullet. Terraforming is a long way off, a hundred years at least if they can solve the dynamo issue, and this place, well, it looks far more agreeable.”

She came over, extending a hand to help me on my feet. When I was standing once again she didn’t let go. “ We spent our time looking up and out, dreaming of what infinity holds, but once we found ourselves there, among the stars, so many of us looked wistfully back, wishing to set our feet upon a tiny globe of blue and green suspended among the oceans of black. ” Her fingers tightened around mine.

“That was beautiful.”

She smiled. “Look, Mars is our home, it always will be. Let’s go to Elysium Planitia, wouldn’t that be more fitting?”

“No, that’s okay. Let’s stay here. I like it. Besides, it’s nice to get a respite from red dirt and dust. And you know what else? These things, these VR simulations, they usually make me nauseous. I think I’m alright for once. I’m not sure why, but let’s not rock the boat.”

“Suit yourself.” She let go of my hand and sighed, turning to face the distant silver spires of a mega city shooting out of untouched mountains. That was where Mars’s exports went, and for what purpose; to build bigger, better cities without destroying the natural resources of Earth in the process. They could go on like this for a while yet, but one day they would have to stop. The foreign mass of extra-planetary materials would slow the rotation of Earth and change too much.