“I have to go and relay this new information to the drone fleet commander. I think we need a series of warning shots to reinforce our message. We are bombing the northwest seabed tomorrow night. The Red's easy access to us will be rubble soon.” Jason rose from the chair like a battered old man. His arm was bandaged from fingers to shoulder, and his back was still in obvious pain.
Jason had been beaten, shot, and dragged to the edge of the outdoor pavilion. He watched armed men take my sister from him and disappear into the night. I don't know how I expected him to act, but the man that stood before us was cold and singularly motivated towards vengeance.
My father and I walked behind Jason as he sprinted toward the front door. To my surprise, he brought only a dark brown leather day suit with him. This type of covering is worn merely to keep your skin from sizzling off. It does nothing to stop the solar radiation problem.
“Jason, you have to take care of yourself. This leather suit isn't enough to protect you.” I grabbed at the arm of the jacket and shook it violently.
“She doesn't have her day gear, Beryl. She was in jeans and a white shirt when they took her. I won't wear my gear until she returns home.” Jason's voice cracked, showing his guilt, and giving away his self-imposed punishment.
“None of what happened is your fault. I don't care what Kar was wearing. You need to take care of yourself.” Jason peeled away from me and darted out the door. His car and driver were waiting outside. The solar exposure from the house to the transport was negligible, but somebody had to get that boy thinking clearly.
Jason's transport drove away from the house. “Mom, the lady that runs the Fuller Estate, do you have a number for her?” My sister would want me to do something about this. She wouldn't let Jason self-destruct regardless of what happened to her.
My mother spent a good long time on the phone with someone at the Fuller estate. I never paid much attention to gossip, but I heard one of Dredge's friends who died some years back left his widow penniless. It's rumored this widow lives in the Fuller estate and runs the large house for Dredge in exchange for room and board. I wonder what the gossip will be about me after I move to the Eaton estate.
SURVEILLANCE
Ezekiel and I walked the camp boundary line. He wanted to show me their water source to dispel the rumor that Reds are water wasters. We left through the main camp gates after grabbing a few supplies from a supply tent.
Along the way, our conversation turned into a pros and cons list for Topsider life versus the Red camp.
“That is not an item for the pro column,” he argued.
“Yes, it is,” I insisted. “Let me see if I have this right. You think unassisted births are better because they can result in the baby and mother dying in childbirth.”
“Not better because of the deaths, just more in line with the natural order of things. Sometimes bad things happen. Besides, don't you occasionally lose the child when transferring the baby to the birthing machine?” He countered.
“Incubator, and yes, it happens, but rarely. Like one in ten-thousand rare. This is one area where you are not going to sway my opinion. Modern techniques have much better mortality rates.
“We carry the child for three months, then transfer the infant safely to the incubator for the remaining six. The child gets optimal nutrition, immunity enhancements, muscle stimulation, and the mother's body doesn't have to be mutilated.” I explained, thinking of the gory footage shown during my natural birthing techniques lecture.
“Mutilated? My mother had four children, and her body hasn't been mutilated.” Ezekiel shook his head in defiance of my explanation.
“You are so ignorant. There's the loss of bone density, muscle volume, scarring, general malnutrition from the child literally sucking the life out of you, and then labia damage. Have you asked your mother about the labia damage she's suffered from birthing four children?” I demanded.
“No, of course not,” he bellowed.
“I'm telling you. If men suffered any genital disfigurement from bringing a child into the world, the planet would be devoid of all human life.”
Ezekiel laughed. “I will agree with you on that one point. So, what about your suicide parties?” He asked.
“We have life celebrations, and they can be... quite lovely.” The thought of my grandparent's ceremony overwhelmed me. My eyes started to burn and tear as I tried to shake their final room's image from my mind.
“Oh shit, I didn't mean to upset you. I find the whole concept spiritually disturbing. None of our religious groups accept suicide in any form. Doesn't matter how many trips we take to the reeducation centers. Your people’s casual use of suicide doesn't appeal to the righteous.”
“Your Gods don't mind if you kill each other with knives and bombs for religious disagreements. But they frown on you choosing the date and time of your own peaceful deaths.” I chuckled. “So hypocritical.”
“We are supposed to value all life. Fanatics give many religions a bad name. Most people of faith are normal, sane people trying to live and enjoy their lives.”
“My grandparent's ceremony was last weekend. It was nice, tastefully decorated. They chose to have it exactly six-months before their wedding anniversary. All their friends got to visit with them. My brother even came down from the Tree—he's an engineer.”
“I'm sorry you lost family—hard to lose people for any reason,” Ezekiel explained with a subtle hint of sadness to his voice. I gathered someone important to him died unexpectedly.
“My grandparents did the ceremony thing out of
