Chapter 2-2
2010 Words
The whole thing was like an axe hovering behind Jack’s neck, ready to strike. Every noise, every flicker of motion: it all became a jarring cacophony that made him tense up whenever Steve or Lauren glanced in his direction. He just knew they were going to bring it up. His heart started racing. God damn it. How was it possible that he could stay calm when people were trying to shoot him but his own family made him feel like a little boy hiding in the closet?
knewshoot himSteve came down the small ramp from the dining room, carrying a beer in one hand and a bottle of sparkling water in the other. He offered the latter to Jack.
Jack took it, raising the bottle as if in a toast. He brought it to his lips and downed half of it in a single gulp. “Thanks.” What to say, what to say? Something that wouldn’t easily transition to uncomfortable topics. “I like what you’ve done with the place.”
Claiming a seat at the other end of the couch, Steve replied with a smile. “You can thank your sister for that,” he said. “Speaking of decorations, don’t you want to get in on the wedding planning?”
Jack shot a nervous glance toward the dining room, then scowled and shook his head. “Na-uh,” he grumbled. “I’m happy to leave it to them.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t care what they choose.”
Steve paused to consider that, taking a sip of his beer. Then he bent forward and set the bottle down on the coffee table. “Jack, it’s your wedding! How can you not care about the details?”
“Because no matter what they choose, it will be a big, stuffy event where I have to wear a bunch of uncomfortable clothes. Since my particular brand of sensory perception makes me hyper-aware of anything touching my body, it will quickly start to get on my nerves.
“And then I’ll have to rein in my eccentricities so that my various aunts and uncles don’t whisper about how I ruined the big day. To say nothing about what Anna’s family might think!
“I will go through the entire event in a state of heightened anxiety, terrified that someone will make a comment I disagree with. Something like ‘Bleakness take me, I really hate those Raggies. I hope we blow their ships out of the sky.’ Except more subtle because neurotypical people always hide their bigotry behind polite euphemisms.
“If someone says something like that, I will feel an immediate flash of anger. And I usually respond in one of two ways: either I confront them directly, or I turn it into a big joke. But neither of those is appropriate at my wedding. So, I’ll just sit there and stew.
“By the end of the day, I will want to put my head through a f*****g wall, but I will put up with it – all of it – because I love Anna more than anything else in this universe. I will put on the big, fake smile and get through it for her. But there is no scenario – no scenario – where I have a good time on my wedding day. So, you’ll forgive me if I don’t feel all that enthused about the planning.”
noSilence.
Utter silence filled the house from corner to corner. Even the women in the dining room had stopped talking. It was pretty clear they had heard him ranting.
Jack bent over with an elbow on his thigh, his face buried in his hand. “Sorry.” He looked up, blinking. “You didn’t deserve that.”
“I probably did.”
“No, you really didn’t.”
really“It’s okay. Don’t stress about-”
Jack stood up, sighing as he glanced out the living-room window. “It was a natural question,” he said. “You can’t be expected to know what my life is like because I never talk about it.”
Steve paused with the beer bottle raised halfway to his mouth, creases lining his forehead. “Do you want to talk about it now?”
Slipping his hands into his pockets, Jack let his head hang. “I’m not sure where to begin,” he admitted. “I only got the diagnosis a couple months ago. I always thought that everyone else experiences the same things I do. They just handle it better.”
“Mmm.”
“Why don’t we restart this conversation?” Jack suggested. “Do you like it here on Alios?”
“Your sister needed some time to settle in,” Steve said softly. “But I love it here. This is paradise for anyone who wants to design software.”
“Really?”
“Oh yeah! At first, I didn’t think I would be able to pick it up. It’s not just a matter of learning a new coding language. The Leyrians use an entirely different approach. They call it ‘element-based.’ I’m still very much a novice, but there’s a subtle beauty to the apps they design. It’ll be a while before I get to do more than observe, but…”
A round light in the ceiling illuminated the green walls that surrounded Lauren’s dining-room table. Silence hung in the air like a thick fog that would not dissipate. No one wanted to speak after Jack’s outburst. Crystal and Lauren sat on opposites sides of the table, waiting for her to say something.
Standing by the window with her back to the other women, Anna peered through the glass. “I really appreciate what you’re trying to do for me,” she began. “It means a lot.”
A light rain had started up, thin droplets streaking over the windowpane, obscuring her view of the backyard. Sombre weather for a sombre occasion. Lauren might think that her brother was upset about the wedding plans, but Anna knew him better than that. The wedding was just a nuisance. Jack just wasn’t ready to deal with a nuisance after what he had been through.
Spatial awareness painted the misty image of two women who watched her with skeptical expressions. “We were just…” Lauren stammered. “I mean we just…You have so much on your plate; we thought we would help.”
Turning to face them, Anna nodded once. “I appreciate that,” she said, stepping up to the table. “But honestly, I just don’t care that much. I’d like to wait until my family can be here. We can do it outside in the sunshine. Melissa will stand lenshar for me, and I guess Novol can do it for Jack. Other than that, I really don’t have any firm plans.”
lensharLauren was staring at her in disbelief. “Yes, but all the little details,” she protested. “The food for the reception!”
“That’s not so hard,” Anna said. “You just reserve a venue, tell them if you have any special dietary requirements, and the robots do the rest.”
“What about your dress?” Crystal inquired.
“I was planning to fabricate something the week before the wedding.”
Crystal gave a start, her eyes latching onto Anna with the force of a super magnet. “The week before the wedding?” she spluttered. “Darling, forgive my ignorance, but it cannot be that easy!”
Pulling her chair back, Anna sat down at the head of the table. Try as she might, she couldn’t resist the urge to chuckle. “It’s that easy,” she insisted. “These things just aren’t as big a deal for my people.”
She knew she had said the wrong thing when both women looked crestfallen. This was something that Lauren and Crystal had been looking forward to. They were trying to welcome her into the family, and here she was, spitting on their kindness.
“I’m sensing this is a bonding ritual for Earth women.”
“Little bit,” Lauren replied.
“In that case,” Anna said. “I would love for you to help me choose a dress and pick a venue and all the other stuff.”
Crystal’s smile eased some of the tension. “It’s our pleasure, dear,” she said, patting the back of Anna’s hand. “So, what exactly were you thinking?”
were
Claire held the door for her mother, ignoring Della’s mutters as they stepped into the student centre at Calisaro University. One glance, and she realized it might not be so easy to find her father. The place was huge!
Polished, white floor tiles stretched across the room to an enormous window that looked out on a forest. Raindrops streaked over the grass, leaving everything on the other side as a blurry mess. Not that there was much to see with evening coming on so quickly.
Balconies on the second and third floors formed a three-sided box around a central atrium with a bronze statue of some Alosian guy Claire had never heard of. A bunch of college kids lingered there, talking quietly.
Della scanned the room with that disapproving glare of hers. “This is where he’s doing his meetings?”
Claire shrugged.
Her mom was one of those women who started exercising like crazy when she hit forty. Della often looked like she had come straight from the gym, and today was no exception. Track pants, a sweater and a blonde ponytail poking out from underneath her baseball cap: she was rocking the whole ensemble.
Claire stepped forward, tilting her head back as she took in the sight of the upper floors. “The website said room 324,” she muttered. “Or…linksite. Whatever they call it here. What is the Leyrian word for that?”
is“Third floor,” Della said. “Let’s go.”
They found a stairwell next to the library and climbed. Claire’s legs were burning by the time they reached the third floor. And though she wasn’t exactly winded, she was breathing a little harder. Telepaths were way cooler than Keepers – that was just a fact – but there were times when it would be nice to have that extra stamina.
On the third floor, they found a series of quiet study rooms with SmartGlass tablets on every table. The lights were a little too bright. That always seemed to be the case in places like these.
A small lounge in the corner offered comfy chairs and couches with a nice view of the atrium below. A few potted plants accented the décor. “Accented.” Was that the right word? Never mind. She didn’t recognize the skinny trees that stood three-feet tall. They had broad, green leaves that came to a sharp point. They might have grown all over the galaxy – maybe even on Earth – or they might be specific to Alios.
Room 324 had a bunch of plastic chairs and a small table that had been pushed up against the far wall. Harry sat on top of that with his knees apart, speaking quietly to an audience of about a dozen twenty-somethings. He looked up when he saw Claire and Della coming in.
Claire greeted him with a wave.
Her father was a tall man, broad-shouldered and pretty fit for a guy just shy of his mid-forties. He had a strong face with dark, chocolate-brown skin and wings of gray in his short, black hair. “Were you coming to join us?” he asked.
Della claimed a chair near the door, crossing one leg over the other and hitting him with that icy stare. “We thought we should show our support.”
“Mr. Carlson,” a young man with glasses chimed in. “Could you tell us more about why they’re pushing this war?”
- Writer
