32: Chloe – First Day of Term

My photo of the doc holding a weeping man, no less than James Kinsley himself, went viral. In my attempts to expose his underlying agenda, I’d humanized humankind’s enigmatic benefactor and turned him into a saint. Yet when I tried to speak to him again, he ran away, screened my calls and refused to be seen in public. According to his secretary, he wouldn’t make any public appearance until he learned to stop blushing.

With James gone as my guide, Chris, the Single Handed Wonder Guard escorted me back to my office. Before I could thank him, though, he slunk out with an exaggerated yawn, setting off a genuine one of my own. I’d lost track of time since we formed the ArkRing. There were no day or night signals, and all the hours of work I’d put in had caught up. I clipped the tablet to my computer and slid into bed, arguing with the two straps designed to hold me into it. Should’ve stayed in the hospital’s.

I didn’t remember winning that argument, but I woke refreshed about nine hours later, still cushioned in place. With a rested mind, I had less of a problem working the toilet, and after a wash with the luxury of baby wipes, found a succulent meal of Human Food and recycled water waiting in a chiller. An hour later, when I was back at work, sifting through all I’d recorded the previous day and organizing each segment for the blog, Reece stuck his head through the door and knocked me out of my flow.

“I’m sorry for storming off.” He said. “Thought I’d say that in person instead of through a screen.”

I grunted an acknowledgement.

When I said nothing else, he slid into the office, floating upside-down to face me. “I got a peace offering. Something newsworthy I’m part of if you want in.”

“And what’s that?” I said.

“It’s the junior recruits’ first day of training. I’m off to teach a bunch of tweenagers how to fly.”

I stopped pretending to type and fixed him my worst glare. He smiled in response and it hit me. This man had no social skills at all.

“Fine.” I said. “Show me.”

He dragged me down to the TurboLift, and for the first time since we left Earth, I got to re-experience the joys of waiting for an elevator.

“They usually arrive in seconds.” I said. “Don’t tell me they’re already out of order?”

“Nah, they’re just being used a lot.” Reece said. “Probably full of trainees looking for the right floor. It’s their first day of term.”

When it did arrive, it was packed with between ten and fifteen kids, all who looked to be between ten to fifteen years old. When they departed between ten and fifteen levels up, half entered what looked like a lecture hall while the rest alighted at a Zero-G gym.

“They’re taking turns getting a crash course in exploration and geology,” Reece said. “And archeology and the other skills they’ll need.”

“Who needs archeology?” I said. “They aren’t gonna find dinosaur bones after the sky crashes down on the modern world. You’d think they’d specialize in something useful.”

Reece shook his head. “They will eventually, but they’ll need a basic understanding of what those specialized teams are doing first.”

When the doors closed again, we were on our own. Without a crowd to curb our inhibitions, I decided to keep it professional. “So you’re giving them flying lessons.”

“David shanghaied me into it.”

When we got to the hanger levels, David was shouting through a megaphone at a small platoon of teens. They hung around a reassembled helicopter while he deafened them with congratulations through the loudspeaker, and when he finished blasting praise at their work, he then ordered them to disassemble it again. Reece ran commentary on their coordinated disassembly. The entire chopper was chop shopped and stored in boxes within the half hour, and I had to admit, I was impressed.

“These helicopters were designed to be taken apart easily.” Reece said. “That way they could be stored in pieces before we Flipped, or if any parts get irreparably damaged, the rest of the craft becomes easily installed spare parts for others in the fleet.”

“Guessing that’s why you call ’em choppers.” I said. “What do you mean by Flipped?”

“That’s what they’re calling the reversal of gravity that sent us up here.”

“Oh. But why store separate parts? Even if they come apart easily, why not just park them in rows and tie them down?”

He scratched his chin with a nod. “Say a strap breaks. We’d have one chopper less in the fleet. The way it now, all the bits are cushioned.”

“Ah, gotcha.”

Reece peeked over my head and waved at someone behind me. “I think it’s my turn to take the classroom. I hope you’ll like it.”

He showed me to another part of the room where half a bladeless chopper lounged in a web of pneumatic cables in front of a big screen. Kids lined up for their turn to take the joystick and Reece took over from the previous instructor. He introduced me to the class.

“We have a guest today, guys.” He said, signaling me to join him. “This is Chloe, she’s a journalist, so be on your best behavior, because if you screw up, everyone on the ArkRing will get to read about it.”

I waved to the class, pretending to miss the panic on their faces, then joined Reece inside as he strapped his first trainee to the pilot’s seat. The interior was identical to the helicopter we’d met on, minus the luxury, and from behind the trainee, we watched the concave, wraparound screen simulate a virtual hanger. Reece gave the pilot her instructions and as soon as a digital man with orange lights in his hands gave her the go ahead, she took off.

“Hey, you’ve been practicing!” he told her. “You didn’t hit the walls or kill anyone.”

The girl nodded without replying focused completely on the flight. Reece tapped her file in his tablet and jotted notes on her performance and progression.

“For now, we simulate flying as part of their training.” He told me. “It’s basically a game. But once we’re lowered back down to the planet, I’ll take a couple of them every day to get in some real flight time.”

I took notes of my own as Reece offered his expertise to the students. If there weey any doubts about their eugenic origins, seeing them master flying in just six short, shared hours, completely shattered them. For all their lewd jokes and immaturity, for all the testosterone fueled fights and inability to grasp basic human decency, they grasped engineering and math and new skills faster than any child I’d ever been at school with. They learned as fast as I did, some faster. And yet they still retained the flaws of people. A spectrum of pride, from arrogance to a lack of self esteem, the inability to see other people as people while knowing academically that, of course, they were, and playing hooky when they got bored with the ‘baby’ lessons.

Throughout it all, Reece kept a patient pace, encouraging those who could be, correcting them if needed. He didn’t bother reinforcing their need to learn skills. If they disappeared, his job was easier and as he saw it, they’d forfeited any future in the program of their own choice. He let the kids who stayed explore their tasks with minimal supervision.

“I always agreed with experimentation first.” He told them. “Those who want to get better at this study it and I’ll train you to be better. Those of you who don’t, find something you’ll want to.”

Maybe it was ironic, but his trainee helicopter pilots didn’t need a helicopter teaching style. They took to the air naturally, and micromanaging their every move would have resulted in less being learned. When Reece was relieved at the end of his shift, he gave them all an outstanding rating, citing how easy it was to teach those who wanted to be there. Those who’d disappeared were automatically given a fail, and when he was done, he tailed me back to the office.

“Hey, look,” he said. “Thanks for finding out about my past. It kind of softens the blow, knowing everyone else is just as much of a freak.”

“We’re not freaks.” I said. “Although we’re not paragons, either. We’re just specially bred to survive.”

“You’re telling me! I got my friends to look at their files. You know, not one of us has ever been more than a few days sick in our entire lives?”

I stopped my data entry and opened my file. “Huh. I’ve had a whopping twelve sick days since kindergarten, and a third of that was because of Tel Megiddo. My doctor even noted I never got menstrual cramps. How …thorough of him.”

“If you want, I’ll ask some of my girl friends if they’re the same.”

“And I’m sure you’ll be very popular with the ladies after that line of enquiry.”

I browsed through the rest of my file, seeking any answers to questions too obvious to ask. Reece raided my chiller for something to drink.

“I’ll just work it into a conversation,” he said. “Y’know, all casual like. Like asking what were you up to yesterday?”

“I filmed out fearless leader bawling like a baby.” I said, flashing him the picture from my tablet.

“Kinda hard to hate him when you see he’s got a heart. By the by, are you one of those women who get cramps during your period?”

“No, I…” …twisted around to show him the disgust on my face. “That’s a casual slip into conversation?”

Reece handed me a headset. “Here, have a distraction. It’s got a camera on the side above the ear. Streams whatever you record to it’s own dedicated harddrive. Just keep your hair from falling in front of it.”

“Thanks, that’d be pretty handy. What’s the occasion?”

“Kinsley charged you with documenting everything, didn’t he? At least you got that career in journalism you wanted. Also, like I said, it was a distraction.”

“From what? I already let slip the information.”

Reece rested his head on my lap. “I was thinking we could move in together.”

“What?”

I dropped the headset. Or as close to dropping something in space was possible. It spun between us, like the loading screen in my head. I tried to register what he said. “Well… wow. Reece. That’s fast. That’s really fast. And stupid.”

He drew up to full height. “Look, our lives got twisted upside-down. It happened in a moment, so I figure fuck it. If we’re gonna be forced into this rollercoaster, might as well request the front seat and enjoy the ride.”

I thought about what he said. “And if you’d said literally anything else, I might think about it. But that was one of the worst metaphors I’ve ever heard.”

“I spent all night practicing that.”

“That makes it worse. It’s definitely in the top five.”

He undid my seatbelt and pulled me into an aerial waltz. “What about dinner? It’s just gel in a squeezey tube, but I got one that absolutely guarantees it tastes like KFC.”

“Just the chicken or the whole meal?”

“Dunno. I’ve been apprehensive to try it.”

I pushed him away. “Reece, look. I like you. But Holden used to use metaphors like that. You just reminded me of him and I watched you boot him out into the world’s end. So asking me that? That’s messed up.”

His face fell and he steadied himself against the desk. He nodded slowly. “Okay, but I didn’t know the world was gonna burst into flames. Or that your boyfriend used the same lingo I do.”

“I know.” I said. “I know, but you do move too fast. I need time to process this. And he’s not my boyfriend.”

He huffed and possibly stomped. It was hard to tell when he floated.

“Fine, whatever.” He said. “Go take your pictures. Enjoy your chicken meal. It’s in the fridge. I’ll see you later.”

He pushed off the wall and out to the TurboLift. I called after him, then followed just in time to see him nestle into a crowd of kids as the door closed.

“Damn you, Reece.”

Back in my office, I stared out the window, up at a snowball earth frozen in the sky. Sparks of red illuminated it from within, a global storm brewing, building to some slow breaking point. Somewhere in that sphere lay Holden’s body and I knew, until I saw it, he would never let me go.