The Touch of Heaven

Chapter 5

IV

Registration had gone smoothly, to my pleasure. There was indeed an open spot as a courier in my area, as Tiffany had said, and I'd been painlessly applied to the training course that went with it and given an outline. The most pressing thing was just getting the names and numbers of everyone in order; we'd ride from center to center and from house to house and deliver what needed to be delivered to each individual resident. Of course, we couldn't hope to cover all of Haven – even with its fairly small population number – so we'd essentially been given a course for our community, mostly our neighborhood and the area encompassing it. It would be painless and I'd get some good usage out of my bike. The bike itself was light blue, right to my liking – "minty fresh," as Jilton had joked, and perfectly fit to my personality – with a small little headlight at the head and slick black wheels. It steered well and I could push it to go fairly fast. I'd fallen in love with it immediately. I was sort of bitter I couldn't go riding with Tango; one arm and all. They didn't seem particularly interested either way. Tiffany had promised to meet me out in the local park to celebrate getting the job. I'd departed as soon as I'd left the community bureau office (giving them the sticky Miles had trusted me with) after a triumphant, very loud "yes!" to the sky, and gotten onto my bike. The wind was nice on my face as I cruised along, the sky a pleasing shade of blue through the docile winter clouds and the sun up and shining. I was feeling good. Eager. A tad nervous. Still craving that juicy, delicious employment insurance. Inwardly, I wondered when I'd officially be able to apply for school.

The park, still covered in warm snow which was quickly melting under the heat of the sun above, was already bustling with a few people socializing, one smoking under the shade of a tree. The park, complete with a fountain and some pretty impressive trees planted years back, was the sort of place you'd walk your dog around. Nobody had taken theirs out, yet. There weren't a surplus of dogs out in Haven, anyways, as more than a quarter of the populace lived in the community centers and dogs specifically were banned from the centers. Cats, for whatever reason, were allowed, which very much pleased me. I'd frequent the pet store for the sole purpose of playing with the cute Persian one the store kept in. The store itself didn't sell pets but more things to keep them alive and well; didn't stop the owner from complimenting the store with her own cat, which I'd grown extremely fond of. The Persian, named Pearl, was a fat little thing that was incredibly aloof until presented with something it could play with. I kept strings handy as using actual store merchandise to entertain Pearl was frowned upon.

I took a side look at my watch. 11:27 AM. The day was young yet. I parked my bicycle at the park's bike rack, stretched, and walked off into the park, ambling about and looking around for Tiffany. I saw her not five minutes after I got off, sitting by a gray bench by the fountain. We exchanged a mutual wave and I sped up to meet her. Tiffany was four years older than me – eighteen – but we'd hit off remarkably well even in spite of that. She'd shown me the workings of Haven not long after me and the others had registered and we'd become friends afterwards. She was fairly short, about 5'4, with smooth, chestnut-brown hair tied into a ponytail which fell across her right shoulder and over her chest. Her eyes were milky gray-brown, her skin fair and her face friendly. She was currently dressed in a brown-and-white dress, poofy, silky sleeves and a little bow on the back of it, with knee-high socks and some black loafers to compliment it. She had a purse slung around her, a container of ChapStick poking slightly out of it and a package of gum in her hand. Tiffany sat over and pat the spot on the bench to invite me over to sit.

"Saved you a spot," she remarked with a smirk. "Still warm."

I laughed and seated myself next to her. "Thanks."

Tiffany popped out two pieces of gum, passing one over to me and flicking the other into her mouth. "So," she said, in-between savoring the first flavorful burst of the gum – mint-flavored (and ripe with potential for jokes concerning my name) – "you get the job?"

I beamed. "Yup! Went over painlessly!"

Tiffany gave me a pat on the back. "Wonderful! Glad to have you on board, Mint. I'll help you with the basics." She paused for a second. "And Tango?"

I shrugged, kicking out my leg and lounging back. "Went with Miles somewhere to discuss it. You know how weird Tango can get about this."

Tiffany scoffed, good-naturedly. "So they're talking to Miles for emotional support? That's like getting someone with stage fright to deliver a motivational speech."

"They're close," I remarked. "I'm sure he can help."

"Oh, I'm not doubting that he can," Tiffany said, her smirk growing. "It's just that with his guidance, his paranoia's gonna rub off on Tango. Then we'll have two neurotic nuts."

We shared another laugh. "Oh, knock it off! They'll be fine!"

"Sure," Tiffany said. She yawned, then looked me in the eye. "So, whatcha got planned for today? Chances are Miles and Tango are gonna renovate the cafe again for their little talks."

"I was figuring I'd celebrate with the others tonight," I said. "Lavender, Darby, Jilton. They should've all been registered by now. I think Lavender and Darby already have... Anyways, uh, Jilton's popped out a few movies and she's planning on spending the night with us on a marathon. I'm excited!"

Tiffany's look resumed dry. "Are you sure she's not just gonna trick you into seeing The Exorcist again?"

I nervously chuckled. "I'm sure she wouldn't put me through that again. Honest."

We exchanged a look and I yawned. The Exorcist had been an experience uncomfortable enough to literally drive me to tears. Jilton had remarked I hadn't even seen the scariest parts. I didn't want to see the scariest parts. And yet Jilton was insistent I see the scariest parts. Maybe she just derived joy from my misery.

Tiffany seemed to remember at the prompt of the current subject, smiled to herself, and pulled out her phone, an old model from a company that had been developmentally stagnant since the technology crash eight years ago and about the only thing Haven was able to afford.

"Hey. Mint," Tiffany said, drawing my attention. "This reminds me. I saved a cute video I thought you might like on my phone."

I leaned in a little closer. "Oh? Let's see."

Tiffany held up her hand to indicate "one second," flipping through her phone's selection of saved videos before stopping at one. She maxed out the volume and handed me her earbuds, I placed them in, and took the phone. To my immediate pleasure, the video showed a fluffy cat – not unlike Pearl, although its fur was more a creamy brown than white – playing with a ball of yarn. A giant smile lit up my face and I remained transfixed on the video for the next eleven seconds, the vague sound of Tiffany stifling laughs beside me for reasons unknown apparent under the earbuds.

On the twelfth second, the video suddenly distorted, the cat's face went purple and eyeless, and out of absolute nowhere a blaring, loud scream - further amplified by the fact Tiffany had jacked the phone's audio way up – suddenly blasted through my ears. The next two seconds were composed of me screaming, dropping the phone, and toppling off the bench onto my back. Tiffany fell over, laughing hard, as I stared up, my heart throbbing and my mind frantically trying to piece what was wrong with the equation.

Fluffy cat? Cute. Ball of yarn? Cute. Screaming banshee? Not quite.

Tiffany picked up her phone as the screamer ended and looked over at me, wiping a stray tear from her eye and still cackling. "Oh my God, Mint, that was priceless!"

I was just confused now. I looked at Tiffany, my face abjectly horrified and paler than it already was. "N-Not funny, T-Tiffany!" I whined, my voice squeaking as it tended to do.

"Hilarious, actually," Tiffany said, pocketing her phone. I got up, shivered a bit and dusted the snow off my snow-covered shirt and skirt, looking at Tiffany with a frown on my face. She sat back down on the bench and observed my distraught figure with a measure of amusement, perhaps satisfaction. "You know, Mint, you'd actually look threatening right about now if you weren't so bloody adorable."

My frown grew larger, out of concern. "What do you mean 'threatening?'"

"Paper-white skin, opaque black shades that make you look like you got no eyes – you're a ghost out of a spooky movie," Tiffany remarked.

"I think Jilton said something like that before," I said, reflecting on those words. I flipped up one of the shaded lenses on my specs – attached by hinges on the top of the frames so I could flip them over the lenses of the glasses themselves with ease – and looked at Tiffany with a squinted eye. "Just need those for the light, anyways. Really irritates them."

"I know," Tiffany said, taking a deep breath. "You wanna see another cute video, by the way?"

I immediately threw up my arms and squeaked again. "N-No!"

Tiffany snorted and broke into some more lighthearted laughter. Eventually, I joined in, a little shakily at first. It was just a prank. No use getting bitter over it. Me and Tiffany talked for a half-hour more. We briefly discussed the subject of school; I was looking forwards to going. I just didn't know when would be a good time. Tiffany simply remarked "sooner the better." It was a sentiment could agree with. Tango, on the other hand? As per usual, not so much. I'd tried my best to reason that they'd be accepted there and maybe they'd even be able to learn a sort of improvised sign language to help communicate with the teachers. They'd still turned up their nose. If one thing hadn't left them from our journey through Paradise, it was Tango's stubbornness. Didn't serve much use clutching to how things were in terms of trying to adapt to our new lives; of course things would always be changing. Did Tango want to admit that? Of course not.

The conversation between me and Tiffany had unfortunately been cut short by a call Tiffany had received. 12:00 AM. The shift was beginning. She bid me farewell, promised she'd start helping me with the basics when she got off tomorrow, and things would proceed from there. Inwardly, I wondered if Tango and Miles had gotten back yet. It had been around two whole hours since they'd departed. I got my things together, the screaming cat still stuck in my head (however much I tried to repress it) and started on my bike back to the apartment. I'd gotten back to the community center with no hassle, parked and locked up my bike on the bike rack, gotten up to the apartment outside the center, and unlocked the door with a single swipe of the key card everyone with their own apartment room had.

Lo and behold, nobody was there. I quietly sighed, kicked off my boots, and went back to the couch, looking out the window to see if perhaps Miles' car was parked out by the cafe. No luck. I was just about to start organizing the apartment a little more when something caught my eye. Our apartment's phone – a corded one and horribly dated for the time – had a new message left on voicemail. That was, for lack of a better word, surprising. Nobody bothered with voicemail nowadays. Then again, I still needed a cellphone myself; the one I'd taken from Paradise was essentially non-functional after a few days and I'd been silly to stall on getting a new one. I walked over, picked up the phone, and let the voice message play. It was Miles – and it was dated only five minutes back.

"Hey, Mint. Uh, sorry to hear you're not home, but could you come over to the civilization bureau at your earliest convenience? You need to see this. It sort of concerns Tango. Thanks."

The mere words "it sort of concerns Tango" immediately made my heart throb with panic. Had they gotten hurt? Had Miles finally been reckless enough to slip up and let my friend be injured? I sucked a deep breath in, trying to calm the sudden flurry of thoughts swirling in a gale in my head, and reasoned they were alright. Miles was the panicky sort; if Tango was hurt, the message would have been significantly more hasty. There wasn't much else to do but find out.

My path to the civilization bureau was fleet. Predictably, Miles' Civic was parked in the lot by the bureau, giving me an inkling of comfort. I took a breath in and walked through the doors. A secretary with curling blonde hair and jeweled earrings attended the front desk, typing something on a bulky box computer. She'd been here when I'd first come in as well and helped me off to get registered in an office further down in the bureau. She was reasonably polite and I think I caught her name as Rita. I approached the front desk and Rita looked up from the rim of her gold-framed spectacles which seemed almost tailor-fit to her occupation.

"Hello again, Ms. Witzenberg," Rita said, in a courteous but nevertheless professional tone. "You're back early. Problem with the registration?"

I chuckled. "Uh, no, actually. Uh, I received a voicemail from Miles ten minutes back telling me to meet up with him here. Is he here, or...?"

Rita thought for a few seconds. "Mr. Everence? Yes, I saw him come in recently. Half-an-hour back, about. He was accompanied by your friend and another face I hadn't seen before. Said they were going to get her shots."

I was confused. They'd brought in an unregistered? How did Miles let that slip? And how did that concern me and Tango?

I leaned in a little closer. "Where is he?"

"In a room down the left hall," Rita replied. "If he wants to see you, I'll give him a call to notify him of your presence."

I stood back as Rita yawned, tapped a few numbers on the phone, and did just that. I jumped a bit when the ensuing ring faintly sounded from a room down the hall. Rita laughed and talked into the phone.

"Mr. Everence, you have a guest," she said, waiting a bit before continuing. "Of course. I'll send them your way."

I gave Rita eye contact. "Where is he?"

"As I said, hall to the left. Room 204."

I nodded appreciatively. "Thank you."

I turned, walked down the hall, and opened the door marked 204 – part of a series of doors lining down deeper into the bureau – and opened it. Miles was anxiously sitting by himself in the room and his eyes lit up a little when he saw me. To my surprise, neither Tango nor the other girl Rita had said accompanied them were with him. I closed the door behind me and nervously approached Miles.

"Miles..." I said, worried, "where's Tango? And why did you want me here?"

Miles sighed. "It's, uh... Look, I d-don't know how to explain it, but... uh, there was this girl-"

"-I know. Rita told me outside."

"...Right. We were attacked by raiders. Her settlement was decimated and we had to bring her in," Miles said, evidently on the edge of losing his nerves.

I covered my mouth. "R-Raiders? But... you said-"

"-that they stopped attacking almost a year back? No. They're back. The exact same group, too. I recognized their leader. His name's Jango. That's not why I called you here, though, and this is the part that concerns Tango..." I anxiously waited as Miles breathed in and continued. "The girl's named Celia. When we took her in to get tested, they discovered something in her blood, and, uh..."

I leaned a little closer. "What!? What did you discover!?"

"Celia's immune. Just like Tango."

I shrunk back a bit and my heart skipped a beat.

Immune? How?

"I couldn't believe it," Miles said, "but I needed to call you over so I could let you know earliest opportunity. Tango and Celia are with Lt. Jones right now, but they should be letting Tango go pretty soon, actually. They just need a sample of their blood so they can run a few more tests on that. Celia's gonna be having an audience with Mayor Pleasance. Aside from that... I think the results of this are going to be a massive boon to the research of the cure, Mint."

I took a while to consider things. Another immune. Tango wasn't the only one. Did this mean research was going to advance faster?

I smiled, as best I could. "Miles... Miles, that's wonderful."

"Yeah, it's..." He paused for a second and sighed. "...it's extraordinary."

My smile went away. "What's the matter? You don't seem like you believe it."

"It's just... Well, once testing here is done and with this in mind, and when Tara finally gets a new program up, they're going to fly Tango out to New York, aren't they?"

I nodded. That had been inevitable for a while. "Yeah. But think about it, Miles... if there's more than one immune, just think of who else could be out there! We might see a cure to the Phantom after all! Doesn't that excite you?"

Miles looked at his shoes for a bit, dawdling on his response and sinking into private thought. Then he looked back up at me and forced himself to smile, his tone a little bit more relaxed. "I guess," he finally said. "It'll be awkward to see things change, though. Real awkward. What if something goes wrong? What if-'

I leaned up and put a finger on Miles' mouth. "Ssh. No more 'what ifs?' Just think about the good stuff, Miles. Can you do that for me?"

Miles shuddered a bit when I put my finger on his lip. "I... g-guess?"

"Alright. Now, you said Tango was going to be let go soon, right?"

"They should have a sample of their blood now, yes."

I nodded. "We're gonna be having a party at Jilton's tonight. Both to celebrate me getting registered and this. You wanna come over? You're welcome to."

Miles shrugged. "Sure. If it's, like, not too much of a hassle for you guys."

I beamed, widely. "Oh, don't stress it! We're always happy to have you over, Miles. You're a friend. I'll stay here until Tango gets back, okay?"

Miles nodded and sat back down, still pondering something. "Alright."

I sat back down with him. The room was quiet for a minute or two, then I looked back at Miles.

"By the way," I said, "how did your little talk go? Is Tango ready to be registered?"

Miles gazed at me for a few seconds, as if he didn't have an answer. Then a playful, almost coy smirk grew on his face. "I think we're going to need just a bit more time together."