The Girl They Sold to the Moon (19 page)

Dear Tilly,

I've missed you, and I'm sorry I didn't get to say goodbye. But as you know by now, Mom picked up my contract and we went home. I heard about the Tranquility Harbor disaster right after it happened. The networks really censored it. Everyone I knew had the feeling that it was worse than they said. I got sick inside, thinking that you might have been hurt, or even killed. I told Mom all about my time there and how I met you. She did get her casino back, by the way, and everything's back to normal. It took right up until the end of my term to get a verdict. Dad got prosecuted for fraud—that shit bag…

It wasn't an accident that I found you. Since I live in Henderson, I told Mom I was going to check out the new casino. All of us locals do that. I didn't want to tell her that I was looking for another job—didn't want to hurt her
feelings. But the Seven Seas had all the shiny bells and whistles, and I just had to check it out. I ran into a little marquis sign by accident that was sitting outside the Davy Jones Lounge. And what do you I see? Yep, ‘Sunshine' was performing. I thought I was seeing things and thought, hey man, could it be Tilly using her old stage name? Could she have made it off the Moon and transferred here? Man, I was up for a miracle at about that time, so I asked around about you. Sure enough, a slinger at the lounge described you—actually, she remembered what your dance costumes looked like. So I knew I'd hit pay dirt. I've been haunting the aisles, trying to spot you for the last two days. I wrote this letter just in case that happened.

I had to figure out a way to get a message to you without getting you in trouble. We both know how FTALC comes down on wards for that. I figured if I could pass you in an aisle, I could slip a fast note to you. So if you're reading this now, yahoo! I found you. Now, you're working the swing shift, and I know when you head for the rehearsal hall, and I know when you get off. The safest time to pass anything is on your way to work, since the slobs and drunks wait around for the entertainers at the end of the show. There's a big-ass roulette wheel surrounded by palm trees on the left side of the employee entrance to Davy Jones Lounge. It's got a camera blind spot under the branches. That's where you got this message. Look for me there. I'm not saying I'll be there every day, but I'll try to make it.

Tilly, if you need anything at all, write it down on a note slip. I know you haven't got long to go, but sometimes it's nice to have a friend on the outside. Especially from a guy who knows how much crap they can throw at a ward. I'm really looking forward to your release. Maybe I can show you around for a day or so before you have to go back to the East coast. Would that be okay?”

Missing you,

Buddy

Tilly's eyes misted up.
I'm missing you
,
too
, she thought. Since the back of the letter had free white space, she used it to draft a letter in response to Buddy's.

Dear Buddy,

It's so nice to hear from you, and I'm so glad your Mom picked you up. I knew she would. She just seemed to be that kind of a person. Of course, she had reason to; she has a loving son who put her interests first. How proud she must be of you. Yes, I remember you saying that you lived in Henderson. Silly me, I didn't realize that it might be this Henderson in Nevada.

I don't want you to get in trouble. So be careful when you're near me. I'll be looking for you when I arrive for each shift. I'll remember—under the palms. Okay?

Bad news: I picked up an extra 30 days for doing something stupid. So you'll have to wait a little bit more before they let me loose. I'll explain later.

Sure, I would like a tour of the city. That sounds like fun. Crazy thing is, this is the first time I've ever been here. I'll bet you'll know where we Sunflowers can go and have some fun.

See you when I see you.

Yours,

Tilly

She tucked the note in her hygiene bag and turned on the shower water. She undressed and gave herself a good scrub down, her thoughts consumed with Buddy. She stepped into a fresh one-piece suit, and finished up by brushing her teeth and then toweling her hair. She still had a few hours before her shift started but she wanted to get a head start on a new act. She retrieved her note from the hygiene bag just in case Buddy was cruising the aisles early. She headed out the door, saying, “Hang in there, Dorothy. I'm going in early for some practice.”

“Yeah, sure.”

After making it down to the casino floor, Tilly followed the ward path on the carpet, keeping her eye open for any sign of Buddy, even though she knew her timing was off. More importantly, she passed by the exact spot where he had made the hand-off. The blind spot was there, just as he had told her, next to the giant roulette wheel under the large palm branches. Sue Lin spotted her when she entered the rehearsal room and broke away from a student to join her.

“Glad you popped in early,” said Sue Lin. “I have some new moves for you, costume changes, and a new music score. What do you say we get started?”

“No whimpers. Only bangs from here on out.”

“That's the spirit.”

Tilly never worked so hard in her life, learning all new moves, wearing next to nothing and merging all of it with a new synthesized “hammer-tech” rock. Sue Lin incorporated cartwheels, back flips, running handsprings and other acrobatic moves into her program. Her costume consisted of several multicolored feathers, strategically placed over the groin and breast areas. Larger, single feathers were glued to the outside of each forearm and onto the backs of each calf, giving the illusion of a winged creature in flight, tumbling and spiraling through the air.

Tilly's energetic rehearsals did not go without notice. Candy Evans had been prepping for her act the entire time, but could not keep her eyes off the winged prancer in the corner of the rehearsal room. Several others turned from their makeup tables to stare openly at Tilly's jumps, flips and gyrations. A few coaches took notes. But Candy's undivided attention gave Tilly the greatest satisfaction. She knew the best way to insult the girl was to upstage her—rip her confidence right out of her body—implant the seeds of doubt—create envy.

When Tilly went on stage for her first act, she felt like a new dancer. Everything she did felt foreign to her, but she made it her own as though she'd been born to it. It came through with a new-found confidence and energy. She had complete control of her body, feeling the music seething through her. The audience felt it, knew it right along with her. Most importantly, Tilly felt like she could regain her status as the sugar shack queen.

Her last show went even better. There were no stumbles, falls or hesitations. Her last handspring nearly landed her in the front row seats, but she stopped her momentum at just the right moment and pulled back to take a deep bow. Several audience members rose from their seats to applaud. She skipped off stage, meeting up with Sue Lin in the wings.

“That's the way it's done!” Sue Lin exclaimed. “Nobody walked out on that one and you got the lazy shits out of their seats.”

“It felt like magic.”

“They got lost in the fantasy.”

They strolled back to the makeup tables, where Sue Lin helped Tilly remove the feather appliances. Candy and a few of her minions glared at her from a distance. Tilly flipped them the three-finger and gave Candy a precocious, open-mouthed smile. Sue Lin laughed while she patted Tilly down with a damp towel.

“That's the best way to get even with that no-talent hack,” said Sue Lin for all the room to hear. “Hell, with any amount of luck, you'll probably run her off the stage before you have to leave. I can't wait to tell you the next idea I have up for an act. It involves balloons and a sharp pin.” They both laughed.

Tilly's head filled with thoughts about climbing ahead of Candy in the ranks and taking over the number one draw position. To nudge Candy out of contention would take give her the ultimate ego boost, and right now, she needed one.

Tilly changed mental gears and thought about Fia's situation of having to spend another year at FTALC. If there were some way, anyway that Tilly could pulls strings or work a miracle, she would have Fia gone from the clutches of FTALC and on her way home to a happier and more prosperous life. Right now Tilly needed a miracle—her mind raced to find the answer.

Tilly had just got out of shower and dressed when a voice message came over the room intercom speaker.

“Ms. Breedlove, your presence is requested at the Seven Seas main employment office. You will contact Mr. Jasper Newman in regard to an important matter.”

She left immediately, knowing that the order to appear had to do something with the end of her term, which was two days ago. She'd chalked up the delay to red tape or a scheduling foul up. She prayed and hoped that it was an official declaration that she'd been picked up. Then she would sign the papers and be officially released from the custody of FTALC.

She knew something was wrong when she entered the office of Jasper Newman, president of Seven Seas entertainment, and saw him and Abigail Rogers sitting behind a small conference table, wearing somber expressions. A guard stood at attention directly behind them.

Tilly took a seat, feeling very small. A tablecomp, with viewing screen and a folder of papers, occupied the tabletop.

“This is merely a hearing in regard to your status with Family Trade and Loan,” Abigail began. “I don't take great pleasure in making these announcements, but it is part of my job description. We have lost contact with your father, Reginald Breedlove. He had already been advised by cyber mail and hard-copy post of your 30-day extension. There has been no acknowledgment or effort on his part to settle this account in whole, which is now past due. Do you understand what I'm saying?”

Tilly looked at Abigail's eyes and thought she detected real sympathy. “Yes, I understand what you've just told me. Is there any possibility that he might have become ill or involved in an accident?”

“Those possibilities were checked yesterday through the KED system. There has been no admittance to hospitals, clinics, or contact with law enforcement. Couriers have been sent to his last known address, the Long Island location, which is your home. The property has been abandoned. At this moment we have no trace of his location or residence.”

“In a situation like this,” said Newman, “we leave no stone unturned to locate the client. It's a continuing process, whereby we put forth an earnest effort on behalf of the ward. However, according to our investigation, no restitution of any sort has been received by the IRS. I would suppose that the federal authorities will now launch their own investigation.”

Abigail clasped her hands. “There is no other way to put this, Tilly, other than to say that you have been impounded by Family Trade and Loan for default on advance monies owed. You are eligible for the labor auction, which will be held here next year. I'm afraid that you do not have enough banked savings to make a minimum payment to the creditor. If you would like me to read the impound conditions in the contract, I can do so.”

Tilly felt queasy, short of breath. “That won't be necessary. I understand how it works. My father can still pick me up in the meantime. Is that correct?”

“Yes, with a small penalty on top of the original advance. This has happened before. Clients
have
appeared later with the full amount. Rest assured there is a very high chance of you being picked up within the next few days.”

Tilly didn't want to tell her what she thought of her real chances of being picked up were, but simply nodded.

“If you'll surrender your ID tag, we will replace it with a revised one. It's just a formality.”

Tilly removed her tag and handed it over. Abigail gave her a replacement, which Tilly looped over her neck and said, “Does this mean I have to go through the whole process again?”

Abigail smiled. “No, we'd like to keep you right where you are, if that's agreeable. Your coach and steward spoke very highly of you, so we see no reasons for a transfer or reassignment. However many days you have left with us, we hope you find your relationship with us pleasurable, as well as educational. All of your achievements here will be added to your permanent civilian work record and become part of your bio-history index.”

Newman stood up to shake her hand. She took it meekly, offered him a weak smile. He said, “It's a rare occasion when a ward demonstrates traits and qualities that are not often seen in the regular employee pool. I would not regret seeing you on our civilian roster in the near future should you decide that the Seven Seas is a career that would appeal to you.”

“I'll consider the offer. Thank you.”

Tilly left the office and walked down the hall in a daze-like delirium. She knew exactly what her chances of being picked up were. Zip. Never. Her father had skipped on her, most likely gambling away the entire advance amount. Now on the run, they would never find him. Unless he became reckless. Or unless she knew where he was hiding out. Given the possible sightings she'd had of him, and if she was correct, it didn't take a detective to realize that Reginald Breedlove might be taking up residence in the Vegas-Henderson gambling complex. Broke and destitute, it wasn't a stretch to imagine that he might be wandering the streets at this very moment.

Tilly waited for her elevator to arrive, hopelessly dejected with what Abigail and Newman had told her. Now her term would last at least as long as Fia's if she wasn't picked up. At the worst, until the next labor auction. She couldn't believe that with all the proceeds the company had made from her in the past seven months, nearly all of it ripped from her grasp, they still believed a debt was owed. She'd never trained and worked so hard in her life for so little payment. She'd been restricted in her movements, ordered about, penalized, ostracized, punished and subjected to a hostile ward who had inflicted injuries upon her. Not to mention, she'd been involved in an off-planet catastrophe that could have taken her life. Any future employer who saw references in her bio/history work record from Family Trade and Loan would laugh her out of the office. The devil was in the details, and the details were in the weasel wording clauses in a contract that made slaves out of destitute people. Her father's lying and deceitful ways had brought her world crashing down on her.