Каарон Уоррен - The Lowest Heaven

Ted quietly got out of bed, grabbed a robe and slipped out of the room. The corridor outside was chilly and silent. The tiled floor was cold beneath his bare feet, so he headed down to the lounge, where he could grab a coffee and enjoy the deep pile of the only carpets aboard the Trident.

He turned the corner into the lobby, and he heard the drone of a vacuum cleaner coming from the next room. There was someone in the lounge, cleaning those precious carpets, by the sounds of it. But the hotel was automated. There was no one else here. Just Ted, Marco, and their…

Ted’s clone passed the open door of the lounge, pushing the vacuum ahead of him. Ted froze. He stood by the corner of the corridor, hovering half out of sight. Just about the last thing he needed was a conversation with his clone. He needed to clear his head, not muddy it further.

He watched his clone for a moment, crossing this way and that past the open door. The clone was almost smiling. He seemed… Ted thought the best word for it was ‘content’ and, for a moment, he was reassured. Maybe this was the right thing after all, for his copy as well as himself.

In a few days, once Ted had left the solar system for good, that clone would head inwards, back towards the Sun, back to where he was needed. The property of FentiCorp, sure, but he had a guaranteed job for life. And, thanks to the behavioural conditioning that was part of the force-grow process, his clone would be happy. He’d have a fraction of a life, but it would be enough. For him.

Ted slipped back round the corner, out of sight. He leant against the metal wall and sighed. Maybe Marco had been right all along. Maybe they didn’t need their liferights, because maybe their life was just a piece of shit. FentiCorp was welcome to it. About the only good thing they had was each other◦– and they got to keep that, along with a ticket to a new life out there, beyond the edge of the solar system. So what if they leave behind a couple of familiar-looking shells. Who gives a shit?

That’s the past.

What they get in return is the future. All their screw-ups put behind them. A fresh start. A blank slate.

In the end, Ted stayed up all night, watching old movies in the entertainment suite. His eyes were dry and sore when he finally realised what time it was. He rushed to the restaurant to find Marco, breakfast done, finishing off his coffee.

Ted sat down next to him.

“I’m sorry about last night,” he said. “I was just feeling a bit shitty. I shouldn’t have been so weird with you.”

Marco arched a sniffy eyebrow as he drained his cup. “Good morning to you, too.”

Ted grabbed Marco’s free hand and squeezed it. He lifted it to his lips and kissed it. Marco smiled, despite himself.

“So how do you want to spend the day?”

“One thing,” Marco said, “before all that.”

“Anything.”

“Just answer me honestly. You want to go back, don’t you?”

Ted glanced out of the gallery window and instantly regretted it. He knew how it would look to Marco, how it would seem like he was casting one last, longing gaze at home, and so he knew he wouldn’t believe his answer when it came. But it was the truth: “No. I don’t. I promise you.” He squeezed Marco’s hand again. “I was just feeling a bit funny about… about what we’re leaving behind.”

“What we’re leaving behind? What are we leaving? Your dad, who hates me? My fucking family, in and out of fucking court every five minutes? Or maybe your glittering career in civil engineering. You make sewers, Ted. People literally shit on your job.”

“Marco, seriously…” Ted kept his voice level and smooth. He’d dealt with a thousand of Marco’s bad moods and snapping back was going to get them precisely nowhere. “I don’t want to go back. I am happy to put all that behind us. But…”

No! Idiot! Not “but”. Anything but “but”.

Marco’s jaw clenched. Ted saw it all in his eyes, what he thought Ted was thinking: But I have doubts. But I have regrets. But I’m lying. That’s not what he was about to say. He had to finish his sentence now, he couldn’t leave it hanging, though he knew how weak it would sound to Marco, how hollowly it would ring against the assumptions he had already made. “ But I was letting it all get on top of me. I was just feeling down about it. Come on, be reasonable◦– I’m allowed to be a bit sad, aren’t I?”

Big mistake. Don’t flip it back.

Marco tutted and turned away from him.

Ted was about to say something when he heard footsteps. Last night’s arrival, joining them for breakfast. He glanced towards the door to see a woman, middle aged, in a sharp grey skirt suit. Needlessly formal, Ted thought. He tightened the belt on his robe, suddenly self-conscious.

“That could be the last other human face we see,” he whispered, nodding towards the woman.

“See?” Marco hissed. “You don’t want to go.”

“What? How do you get that?”

As the woman picked some bacon out of one of the heated trays, she glanced in their direction. She smiled thinly, and Ted tried to smile back, but everyone in the room knew there was an argument going on and nobody wanted to get any more involved than they already were.

“I don’t care if I never see another living soul,” said Marco. “But you’re obviously going to miss it. You don’t want to go.”

“I do. Jesus, Marco. I want to go. ”

“I thought this is what you wanted.” (It is! Didn’t I just say that?) “A new start, away from all that bullshit behind us.”

“Yes, I do. Bu… However , it’s not been that easy to just throw it all away. I mean, I’m ready now, but–”

“But what?”

Bollocks.

“But what , Ted? You didn’t want to throw it all away? Fine. I believe you. But you were fucking happy enough to sell it when it came down to it.”

“You make it sound like it was easy. You think this whole fucking thing is easy. This is my life you’re talking about.”

“Wrong. It was your life.” Marco stood. “Kiss it goodbye, Ted. It’s gone.”

He marched towards the door without looking back. His retreating footsteps were swallowed by the silence.

He heard the woman clear her throat.

Now. Right about now, Neptune, would be a good time to start roaring.

He glanced over at the woman. She had taken a seat nearer the gallery window, and he thought to himself: I have never seen someone more fascinated by the view from a window.

Ted spent a few more hours in the entertainment suite. Most of that time he passed by lying on one of the ridiculously squishy sofas◦– the last time you’ll see upholstery like this ◦– trying to nap. But he couldn’t ever quite get to sleep, Marco’s angry words still ringing around his head.

Ted had not, it would probably be fair to say, handled the situation well.

They had to leave the next morning. Their permit window was narrow, and if they missed it, that was it, the deal with FentiCorp was over and they would have to limp home◦– at their own expense. And then, they’d have to live with limited access to the inner planets only. Marco would hate that even more.

He swung his legs round and sat up. If he knew Marco◦– although this morning might suggest that he didn’t◦– he’d be in the spa. On the running machine, probably. Or maybe in the sauna. One way or another, he’d be sweating out his bad mood.

How long will we spend aboard our ship? We might die in there. Just me and him, living out the rest of our lives, winding each other up. How’s he going to sweat out his moods in there? We’ll have to build a sauna. It can’t be that difficult. There must be a way. We won’t last five minutes without one. I’ll figure out how to make one. I have to.