Exile

PROLOGUE-4

I have never seen him this happy. His eyes were glowing, his face was flushing, and I could almost hear the blood boiling through his veins. On one hand, I was happy for him, but on the other, I felt sudden sadness. If Chris was going to go to university, he had to move to Houston, because it was the Polytechnic there that organized this year’s test. It meant that I would be alone. I did my best to not show my worries, trying to not spoil his extraordinary occasion. Chris deserved the best and there were many indications that he would be able to fight for it.

Maybe he was right, maybe I was not ambitious enough? I thought about it that day and the next, while helping him to pack, and later still, when I walked him to the station and returned to our apartment by myself. I had to look for a new, smaller one because the thought of living with a stranger was very unpleasant to me. I wrote to the central section of living quarters and the next day I received a dozen or so proposals, from which I chose a nice apartment in the Sunset Estate, located closer to the Silvergate district, where I worked. I called the facility’s dispatcher and we decided that after work I could come and see the apartment, without any obligations for now.

“The Sunset Estate!” Sandra exclaimed when I told her about everything at lunch. “That’s where I live! And in the building H, too! What a coincidence...”

“Is it some very exclusive place?” I asked, worried slightly.

“No way? Be reasonable, exclusive apartments don’t get suggested on the main distribution board. I took what was cheaper, I told you that I have to save money.”

I already knew why this was happening. She told me one evening that her parents once ran into some misfortunes concerning an important investment and were currently paying off a huge debt. Sandra, like the good daughter she was, helped them financially as much as she could, but since she earned only two thousand five hundred with an added bonus for a representative position, she didn’t have much to spend on her own expenses.

“Well then, we’ll be neighbors.”

“I’m really happy about that. Building H is just beginning to be inhabited and I don’t know anyone there.”

Sandra’s voice revealed genuine joy. She liked me, although I couldn’t understand why. I could never match her social status, beauty or IQ index – honestly, I had no idea how it was possible that a person with her intelligence was working as a simple secretary. I didn’t ask her, trying not to pry, but it seemed inappropriate to me.

I visited the apartment in the afternoon. It was small, but very functional, equipped with everything necessary. Bedroom, living room, bathroom, a small kitchen. The walls of the living room were decorated with holo-frames, the wallpaper opposite the bed, a remote control mounted in the bedside table.

“You can change the images on the holo-frames as you wish,” said the dispatcher who was showing me around. “Each of them has in the memory a hundred and fifteen different motifs, from old masters of the brush to modern abstraction. If you prefer photos of nature, just insert the appropriate memory card into the reader. You can also change the color of the walls, although not at the level of a luxurious apartment and without decorations. On the panel you can select different shades, simply press the button. As for the television set, we have a local network, a flat fee, and five hundred programs to choose from. There is also a library and a video game and movie rental. A social center will also soon be opened in the estate. There’s something for everyone.

“How much does it cost per month?” I asked, almost certain that I wouldn’t be able to afford it.

“Six hundred allocation points together with all fees. What’s your decision?”

Six hundred points? That’s something I could afford. The former apartment which I rented together with Chris cost us almost a thousand, and we each paid half of it. Now I will be paying on my own, but it meant that I would spend only two hundred PP more than before.

“I’ll take it,” I answered firmly. “Can we finalize the contract now?”

“Of course, as long as you have all the necessary documents on your person. Let’s go to the office.”

I had all my documents. Another fifteen minutes and I was entered into the memory of the central controller as tenant number 227. The dispatcher took a print of my thumb, pattern of my retina and a sample of my DNA along with a voice recording, and then handed me the local identification card.

“Welcome to the Sunset Estate,” he said with a smile.

I felt like someone from the upper classes.

That same afternoon I rented an autocar and a manbot from the transporting company to help me move. I had some communication problems – the orders given to manbots had to be short, clear and precise, and only words registered in their linguistic database should be used. I’ve never done this before, but after a few mistakes I managed to somehow get the hang of it and the manbot started listening to me. It moved my things to the autocar, and then, once we were there, brought them upstairs and arranged them as I wanted. There wasn’t a lot of it, so it finished quickly and I could take it back to the company along with vehicle. I took the bail, signed where it was needed and came back unconscious from fatigue, about to spend my first night at the new place.

Before entering the building, I unexpectedly noticed Sean Lara, my social father. He was sitting on a bench, and next to him was placed a large box of colorful, openwork plastic. At the sight of me, Sean stood up and gave me a friendly smile.

“What are you doing here, Dad?” I asked, returning his kiss. “How did you know where to look for me?”

“Mira, your ex-neighbor, told me where you moved to,” he replied. “I decided to bring you something special for your new apartment.”

“What is that?”

“I figured you might feel lonely with Chris gone,” Sean picked up the box and followed me to the elevator. “That boy really managed something great, don’t you think?"”

“He was always intelligent and stubborn. And above all, more hardworking than any of us. Do you remember how mother always chased after us to study?”

He laughed.

“Cynthia was a strict babysitter, but you have to admit that she was right. It’s thanks to her that you all became something, because I was too soft.”

“She wasn’t that bad, dad. We loved her as our biological mother. In Milla’s case even more.”

Milla came from a truly pathological environment. She was used to domestic violence and hunger, and as a result of some legal turmoil, she wasn’t placed in a social family until she was five years old. She remembered the terrible conditions and the biological parents who mistreated her very well, so it’s not surprising that she became so attached to Sean and Cynthia.

“Yes, Milla... she’s now a model at the professional Fashion House in Toronto. She writes and calls us often. Such a good girl.”

We entered the apartment, and once inside Sean put the box on the floor.

“So, what’s in there?” I asked. As if in response, the plastic container made a prolonged, pathetic sound. My father laughed at my surprised expression. He opened the lid and took out a fluffy, red-furred creature with very green eyes.

“It’s a cat,” he said. “Myrkheim started a breeding farm some time ago. He’s been applying for permission for years. This little one doesn’t have ancestry, because it was an extra, but you probably don’t mind, right?”

I grabbed the kitten into my arms and it protested squeakily, slapping me with a clawed paw straight in the mouth.

“Dad, he must have cost a fortune...!”

“He didn’t cost anything. Myrkheim became convinced that he owed me a debt of gratitude, because when we were still both single men, I lent him some money to start his first business. So he just gave him to me. His name is Sid and he belongs to you now.”

A cat, a real cat! Only very rich people could afford such pets. Until now, I’ve seen such an animal merely twice, from a distance, and now I had one in my hands... he was warm, silky and after a while began to purr slightly.

“Oh, dad, I love you!”

He smiled in content. He was always like this, he loved to give us presents and see how happy we were. I kissed him warmly.

“All right, all right,” he patted my back. “Will you make me something to eat? I’m starving. Cynthia has been on a business trip for two days and I’m a very poor cook.”

“I remember that.”

I quickly prepared a meal from a canned meat substitute and freeze-dried pasta. This simple dish had the advantage that it could be season in many different ways and was still always tasty. Besides, it cost mere pennies, and I was used to saving money. I’ve never had much. As a student I lived on a state scholarship and when I started earning my first money, out of habit I continued to buy the cheapest food and second-hand clothes. Apparently, poverty was primarily a state of mind, not of the wallet...

***

I felt some reluctance before entering Miraton. Contrary to all logic, I feared that somehow they would simply tell me to leave the moment they see my suit and the B3 sign on my forehead, but showing a reservation card with a hologram immediately opened the door for me. A young boy in a livery began parking my car, while another one leads me to an elevator and shows me the way to the apartment. He was so nice, and it was clear that someone paid him well. Someone – who? - invested so much in me that I felt my throat tighten at the thought of it. I will never be able to pay them back.

I’m only a florist technician and a guardian of the library collections at the Medical Academy, and sure, I may be earning well now, but I’ve never had any huge riches. And... I’ve never even seen an apartment like this. The whole wall was covered by a window through which you could see the panorama of the city. The second one had a three-dimensional screen with a full package of programs. A fluffy rug was spread on the floor. In the corner there was a huge distributor with free snacks, a great bed with an automatic vibrating massage, and a bathroom with all the possible conveniences…

A letter lied on the table. I pick it up with hesitation and unseal the envelope. Only a handful of words inside:

“I will speak to you soon. Please use anything you like without restrictions, but do not leave the hotel.”

Well, that’s something I didn’t have to do. All Miratons have gyms, courts, a swimming pool, conservatories, and even a video plastic mini-zoo. You can live here all year and party like a king without getting bored for a minute. However, right now I don’t feel like taking advantage of all these miracles.

First of all, I go to the bathroom. I take off the suit and stand in front of the mirror. I want to examine my body thoroughly in order to have some idea of what exactly they did to me. At first glance, there’s nothing unusual to be seen, but a thorough inspection reveals a whole network of scars on my stomach and hips. It will take some time before they fully disappear. The left hand was cut and stitched back up as well. You couldn’t see the implants of course, although… this bathroom is equipped with a simple scanner that can be used to determine the condition of the teeth or the type of minor injury. Top-class hotels offer such facilities in the luxury package.