Through a Dark Blue Lens: Chapter Three
This story has existed in some form or another for 9 or so years. It was “completed” in 3.5k words at one point. But someone told me that the real story was still in there somewhere, between the lines. So here is the second version of Through a Dark Blue Lens, presented one rough chapter at a time.
Through a Dark Blue Lens
Chapter Three: I've Got the Fix for YouBy: Peter R. HeatonThere was little airflow in the metal and plasma shelled kiosk at the government rep center. A bead of sweat trickled into an eye. Anya wiped it clean, the woman on the other end of the vidlink made some comment about how hot it must be outside her ice-box. The words spoken to her danced haphazard and clumsy from her ears to her mind finding the waves of the simultune piped into the center. Her eyes pulled away through the privacy plasma to the thick lines of people waiting. Her body was moist with sweat and a moment leaked out from her memory of the last time she felt this way
Disoriented and sticky, and coughingcoughingCOUGHING up burning fluid--BURNING fluid. A deep breath. Air. Nothing tastes better until she really tastes it and it tastes smoky and wrong and she won’t remember the mindfield without that scent. A man waits while the fluid drains from her stasis chamber. The slap of wet cloth against a wall.
“Miss?”
“I’m...yes, well it’s just so hot.”
The simultune droned on in the background
“You’re sweating, are you alright?”
Air, Any thought. I need air. She gritted her teeth, pushing all of it away. “I’m fine. You said, already processed?”
The kind-looking woman thinking she was delivering good news. “I think you’ll find that things are much more efficient than wherever you’re...oh, Old Earth. Well, you see, that explains it. Not much infrastructure left there. That’s why there are so many criminals going the other way.”
“How long?”
“I can pull up the file for you. Don’t worry, on Gliese, there are strict laws against crimes committed in the mindfield.”
The screen flashed:
Inmate: David Aldred
Crime: First Charge of Sexual Assault in a Mental Containment Field, Code 4x.211.17
Sentence: Five, two-year labor rotations
Holding Location: Gliese
Transporting Vessel: Redacted
Labor Assignment: Redacted
“Five rotations?” she asked, not certain how to feel only that she was starting to feel weak in her legs. Weak, just like when she’d climbed out of the stasis pod. “Where? How come...how come it doesn’t say?”
“Labor World locations are redacted from the public access files.”
“Five rotations, what does that mean?”
“He’ll be moved to a new facility every two years. Silly policy. Supposed to lower the survival rates but they’ve only gone up since it was implemented. Well there’s some more here: says there was an appeal. His lawyer argued that IL should apply--that’s interstellar law, darling--but Gliese, like most things, is very clear on that. The appeal was has been rejected.”
“So?”
“So? Most don’t last two rotations. Five, well, what I’m trying to say is you need to forget that bastard. What about you? Gliese has a number of support services for...those who’ve been attacked. Would you like to talk to somebody?”
Talk to somebody? No. I do not want to talk to anybody. The simultune had changed.
I’ll make you happy, maybe,
‘cuz I’ve got the fix for you,
So don’t be blue, baby-baby,
More moments went by. The future becomes the present becomes the past. Cycle. Recycle. Stop.
I’ve got the fix for you,
‘cuz it’s one for me,
and it’s one for you.
“Miss?”
“Yes?”
“I asked you if you know where you are staying.”
“Oh, no.”
“They set you up at a nearby hotel with a portion of the refund for your destination change. Five intersections if you head left out the main door. There’s a big holo--Cozy Comfort--you won’t miss it.”
“Thank you.”
“Yes. The local station might send someone for a follow-up, but it always depends on how busy they are.”
Follow-up? This certainly wasn’t Old Earth. “Sure.”
“Miss?”
“Yes?”
“You remember where to go?”
“Yes. I told you. I’m fine.”
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The events of the mindfield infected her dreams--it wasn’t so much the experience but being separated from it. The next three days were spent in a haze of cravings for the drugs to which she’d grown accustomed. It was so easy to get back on Old Earth, even with all the oldies being too “in-touch” to want the stuff; high supply and not as much demand as there should be, she guessed. She never really figured anywhere could be much different. if she’d only taken a moment to talk to that stupid computer she’d have known that the kind of stuff she wanted would be real hard to come by on Gliese. She thought she woke to a knock once, but by the time she managed to bring up the visual there was no one there.
It was back in customs, when she first landed that she found out. The knowledge had come in the form of an incessant alert blasting her link.
Gliese is a drug-free world. All violators are prosecuted. Forced extraction has been approved by the IL for all drug-related offenses occurring on Gliese. Know your destination with TravelSmart, sponsored by the GGG. Query any online kiosk for more information.
Anya felt her stomach drop. Instantly she was on her knees, her bag ripped open--damn whoever the hell might think she was crazy--and there was the hidden pocket.
Empty.
Someone from the Enimus crew had found her stash and taken everything. Jolly Locks had warned her--sort of. His stash had been scapped on his last leg back and he let everyone know about it--all while he was riding a high of whatever the hell he’d lost. It was that easy back on Old Earth. Jolly Locks, the lonely starkisser, one who had decided to travel the other way, back to Old Earth, because he was just as lost as she. They’d taken what they wanted from each other and that was it and neither of them could have been happier about it all.
Maybe it was better that they’d taken it. She’d have ended up locked away in her own cell. But it was hard to find pleasure in that thought when all she wanted was what she didn’t have.
Vibrant green roared at her from her periphery. A man had stopped next to her, his bright shirt calling for attention. “Excuse me?”
“Yes?” she said,
“Are you alright?”
“Me? I’m fine.”
“Okay. Do you need any help?”
Yes, she thought.
“No.” She said.
“Okay.” He smiled. “Have a nice day.”
Cycle. Recycle. Stop…
At the hotel. Fourth day of cravings. They were slowly bleeding away. Anya knew she needed to get out. Needed to see the light of Gliese’s twin suns. Talk to somebody. Get high, something deep inside said, grinning, which then reminded her of a kaleidoscoped face and
FLASHBACK: Do I report crimes to--
NO! Anya screamed. She’d ripped herself apart over and over again while her body had suffered. It’d hurt too much. She was too tired to think those thoughts anymore. I took a risk when I bought those tickets. Why the hell did you follow me? I didn’t tell you to. IT’S NOT MY FAULT.
Cycle. Recycle. Stop…
Back to the night she left Old Earth. The lights of the shuttle in the atmosphere. Rats, she’d thought. But she’d been wrong. Why couldn’t he just let me disappear. I could have been anybody. Nobody. A little person. Maybe even a nothing. Maybe they are happier. And in the end, what does it all really matter? They were all running toward the plague. They all were the plague.
WHY DAVID, WHY COULDN’T YOU LET ME FIND MY HELL ALONE?
“Uhhh,” Anya groaned, testing her legs. There was only one way to make it stop. What else was there for her to do? Find some pheramol, dopa9, anything that would stop her mind from thinking thinking thinking...What would she do on Old Earth? Find some sketch and be nice-nice to him. Could it work here?
She knew it was a bad idea. But she realized coming here had been a bad idea from the beginning. Damn her for not listening to that computer. And damn whoever the hell designed that icy ass piece of software. Maybe if he'd been more charming I wouldn't have kept saying no. That would have kept her from stopping there, no matter what other shit she’d done. Maybe then, she would have just forgotten David.
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