The Girl They Sold to the Moon (6 page)

Fia cleared her throat. “It's either that or take her off the Amazon stage and schedule her at one of the smaller lounge acts.”

Sue Lin gave Fia a harsh look. “Don't be ridiculous. She'd go over capacity and jam the aisles. Her fan base
will
follow her.”

Abigail hunched her shoulders in submission. “I'll take the suggestions under advisement.” She favored Tilly with softer eyes. “And you, Miss…I will say, a job well done in spite of the ruckus. I hope we won't need to assign you a personal bodyguard or a press secretary.” She stifled a laugh. “For now, let's forge on into the great unknown and see what happens.” She stood up.

The women rose. Tilly felt a great burden lifted, although she still felt blameless.

“One more thing,” said Abigail. “Tilly, have you given any thought to a part-time assistant coaching position? I know it's a bit early, but you seem to have some very positive endorsements here, and your bio-history record is exemplary.”

The offer caught Tilly off guard. Sure, she could instruct, advise and choreograph routines. She could teach other girls how to dance. But her true love and calling
was
dance. She wouldn't let them take that away from her. “That's a generous offer.” She looked at Sue Lin. “But I wouldn't feel right with a position like that. If you don't mind—”

“Perfectly understandable. We didn't call them prancers when I first began the art at a very young age. As a hoofer, I could cut a pretty mean rug, too. I understand the craft and the lure. For however long, I hope you will remain a loyal fixture with us here at United Western. I would like to personally meet with you before you are picked up.”

By that, she meant when Tilly's term ended. “That would be fine. I'll be available.”

The three women left the office and hopped on a foot tram, headed back to Block 41. Sue Lin couldn't contain herself. “Son-of-a bitch, we aced it! I just knew she wouldn't bitch us out. That's the first time I've seen the ole bitty tongue tied.”

“Then why did she call us in?” asked Tilly

“She wanted to see the phenomenon in person. It's not easy to dazzle the president of Entertainment and Leisure. What's most important is that she took a shine to you. Those are huge points.”

“Hah,” said Tilly. “I wonder why somebody hasn't thought that my routine was just one big fluke. Who's to say I could do it again without spilling my ass on the floor?”

Both women laughed. “It's in your marrow,” said Sue Lin. “You've got talent and it's no accident.”

“She's right, you know,” said Fia. “I've seen them come and go. You're a keeper.”

Satisfied with that, Tilly felt a surge of accomplishment. Not for having attracted so much attention, but for hitting a pinnacle in her craft. They were still a bunch of slobaholics and thugs, hardly a group who knew the difference between a high kick and an Arabesque.

Tilly and her friends decided to visit the cafeteria and have lunch. After a short tram ride, they stepped down a ramp to the pedestrian level. Foot traffic was thick in this part of the spoke that held the huge dining hall. She liked the interior of the buffet dining hall, only having been inside it once before for a quick dinner. Beautiful murals adorned the walls, paintings depicting dancers, singers, acrobats, magicians, musicians, and other entertainment related scenes. Framed and autographed pictures were set in wall niches, all of them famous actors, actresses, and singers, who at one time had been employee-wards at Tranquility Harbor. Endless island counters displayed smorgasbord style offerings.

Tilly picked from the fruit and vegetable counter, which had fresh produce grown on site in the hydroponics spheres. Everything else contained protein slurry supplements, including the meat products. The culinary department made sure that even the proteins and carbohydrates didn't contain excess calories, so one could pig-out and still remain slim and fit. Her two friends loaded up on everything, piling high portions.

At the table, Sue Lin pointed a fork at Tilly. “So where in the hell did you learn to dance like that? We like to say it comes natural. But it's a long road of practice and discipline that drives one to master the craft.”

“Mind if I join you?” asked a voice behind Tilly's shoulder.

Tilly turned in her seat to see Buddy Bell holding a tray and grinning at her. “Go ahead, unless somebody minds.”

No one objected. Buddy took a seat next to her and said, “Not to worry. I'll keep my mouth shut. Go on with whatever.”

“What happened to your tooth?” asked Tilly. She saw a gap in Buddy's smile that hadn't been there before.

Buddy hunched his shoulders. “Got it chipped. Somebody threw something at me last night—a coin. Hit me square in the face.”

Tilly cringed. “Damn hard luck.” She looked at Sue Lin. “Okay, ever since I was tiny. Mom used to play music for me and swing me around. I never really knew my birth mother. Anyway, I was never without music playing some tune in the house. My mother used to dance for me and I always tried to follow the steps. She had all kinds of moves, loved just about every style and form. That's where the natural rhythm comes from. Mom said I was a dancer before I was born.”

“Hmmm…she used to hold speakers to her tummy, then,” said Sue Lin. “You were being served in the womb.”

“That's funny,” said Fia. “I used to do that too. Lots of pregnant moms did.”

“That's about it,” said Tilly. “But she confessed later that I was adopted, and that it was just a story so I would feel better about myself. Anyway, Mom started taking me to contests when I turned about six. Talent shows. I didn't like the competition too much because there were always a lot of hurt feelings or screaming parents. I was shy, too. Still am, a little bit.”

“You started winning contests, then,” said Sue Lin.

“Yeah, that happened a lot. Especially when I got older. At fourteen I won the Let's Find a Superstar contest in Los Angeles. That was just about the time I found my mother's old tape collection, which had some of the old superstars. I became obsessed with M-J and started practicing all of his dance moves. High School got in the way, but I kept practicing and auditioning when I could.”

“How did you end up at FTALC?” asked Fia.

“My dad applied when I turned seventeen. He knew from a brochure that wards who had special talents could work the high-paying acts that would give him a higher loan-out. He got in trouble with back taxes, wrote some bad checks. They threatened him with a jail sentence if he didn't make an effort to pay.” Tilly speared some salad and went on. “Mom passed away from ovarian cancer. We didn't have the medical insurance or money to pay for the treatments. We…couldn't save her.”

Fia dabbed her mouth. “Well, the big stock market crash got us. It just took longer to bring me and my husband down to poverty level. Our internet movie rental business went bust after two years. We lost our home after a fourth mortgage and ended up on Public Assistance. Tom had to file bankruptcy. Since I was the only household dependent, we decided to loan me out for two years, so we could make a new start. The only skill I had was waitress jobs at the local restaurants. That's how I got my assignment here. Tom wrote lots of letters to me over the network at first. I heard it through channels that he'd filed divorce proceedings against me and picked up with another gal. He paid his bills but skipped on the FTALC loan. I guess he has that new life, hiding out somewhere. I've been here just under three and half years.”

“That fucking pig,” said Sue Lin, under her breath. “You must have missed a labor auction. Even after two years you would have been cut loose and back to civilian life.”

“I did miss out. My name wasn't called. Who the hell wants a waitress? You can't pad a bio-history with a job description like that. I still haven't made enough in tips to pay the loan off.”

Everyone looked at Sue Lin.

“What's your story?” asked Tilly. “You've been here a long time.”

Sue Lin hunched her shoulders. “Simple, I volunteered. I had to go through the application process and wait nine months. But they snapped me up.”

Fia looked incredulous. “Can't you leave any time you want? You're not a ward.”

“Don't want to leave,” said Sue Lin around a mouthful. “I applied for volunteer status at FTALC seven years ago. I had a successful martial arts studio at the time. I also danced in some Broadway productions. I wanted something different, a new location. FTALC sent me to Las Vegas, where I pranced back-up for the lounge acts. I applied for a transfer to Tranquility Harbor, which had just been completed. I moved up in the ranks in the first year, became a headliner, and then they offered me a coach-instructor position. I took it. I've been coach for Block 41 for four years. It's grueling, hard and fast-paced. That's the way I like it.”

“Any family?” asked Fia.

“I hopped an old steamer out of Okinawa when I was thirteen. Runaway. Father wanted me to be a Geisha. No fucking way, said this girl. I landed on the American shore before it became the United Western Enterprise. My family's right here, all around you.”

“You're a success story two times over,” said Buddy.

Tilly looked at him. “I thought you were going to keep your mouth shut.”

“Sorry.”

“I've trained over 700 entertainers since I've been here,” said Sue Lin. “That's the real success story.”

“But why
here
?” asked Tilly. “You could have worked any Earth-side job.”

“United Western Mining was one of last corporations that offered a pension plan. I figure to stick with it until my retirement. That, plus my savings, I'll be sitting pretty at the end of it all. No regrets from this gal.” Sue Lin let out a raucous burp.

From the corner of her eye, Tilly saw the hand that flung the muffin that bounced off her forehead. A small knot of girls cackled manically then rushed to different tables. The girl who threw it had red hair fashioned in a multi-layered shag with temple ringlets. She also had the biggest bosom in the dining hall.

Sue Lin shoved up from the table, squinting at the suspects. “All right, who threw that food item?”

All eyes turned toward Tilly's table. A moment of silence ensued. Then the rabble started up again. Tilly looked at her salad plate and whispered, “Redhead with ringlets. Big tits, four tables behind you, Sue Lin. I think I've seen her before coming off the stage.”

Sue Lin turned around, spotting the girl. “You dumb bitch, Candy. If I was your coach I'd pull your act. You feel like a trip to Roger's office? Try that stunt again.”

“You're going to see a lot of that,” said Buddy.

“Yeah, but who is she?” asked Tilly.

“Candy Cane Evans--she headlines at the Amazon,” said Sue Lin, making a face. “One of the erotic prancers. She got her start working the pole, a pole that looked like a candy cane. Now she has her own show and a huge draw. Nothing artistic about the erotics—they're a bunch of slithering tramps with no shame. But the Dogs love ‘em and the Corp allows it, so what are you going to do?”

“How does headlining work?” asked Tilly.

Sue Lin took that one. “Headliners get a full two hours on stage doing whatever they want. It's usually a combo act, prancing, tweeting, telling jokes, modeling, and fielding questions. Whatever they feel like doing. They get a larger tip percentage and private suites. They're the money makers for us.” Sue Lin looked at Candy's table again and raised her voice. “But some of those bitches got their heads stuck up their twattles because that's where their minds are at.”

Tilly now understood the reason for the muffin in the face. Candy was inhumanly attractive, with a typical European face, light green eyes and stylized red hair. She had heavy, thick brows and cheek bones to die for. Her bust could have been synthetic, but that was doubtful since points were deducted for artificiality. She
had
to be a ten. She looked young enough for the Sunflower class but she might have been a very young Carnation—twenty or twenty-one.

Tilly looked at Candy, making eye contact and offered her a neutral expression. In response, the girl flipped her the three-finger—a brash insult. Tilly's group couldn't avoid the other curious stares. Yet, all Sue Lin had to do was stare back at them to turn their heads away. The girls plainly feared the wrath of the coach.

Buddy leaned close to the side of Tilly's face and whispered, “You wanna go smoke a real cigarette with me later?”

Tilly glanced at him. “What do you want with me? You know about the frat rules. What's the story with you?”

Buddy fell back into this seat, threw his legs out and crossed his arms over his chest. “I'm glad you asked that. I've been here for five months, with four more left to serve. They call me Buddy ‘Gunner' Bell because I'm a crack shot with a rifle or pistol. I won four cyber-shooting championships when I—”

“Hey, we've got time to browse the rotunda before our shifts start,” said Fia. “Let's wear out some shoe plastic.”

“That's a great idea,” said Tilly, and stood up with the others.

“…when I was 15, 16, 17, and 18,” Buddy went on. “But I always had a thing for Houdini and started collecting props and magic tricks during that time…”

Tilly and the others walked to the exit and headed up to the foot tram. Buddy followed.

“…Mom was head of the household and the major breadwinner,” Buddy went on. “She owned her own casino in Henderson, Nevada, and used to let me star in my own stage act. I got pretty good at card tricks and sleight of hand, making a pretty decent wage until a bunch of business guys showed up, claiming to the be the rightful owners of my mom's casino. Come to find out…”

The foot tram sped them toward the main rotunda. Tilly tried reading all of the advertisement placards on the walls, catching names and products while Buddy droned on.