The Girl They Sold to the Moon (8 page)

“That blows major time. Look at it this way, you can always save up enough through the tip pool and have something to look forward to when they cut you loose. You don't have to be picked up. They can't impound you for a default on the loan if you have the savings to pay it. Your freedom is guaranteed after serving your sentence.”

“I didn't think of it that way. Yeah…I am out of here in four years, no matter what. I hope it goes fast. I've never worked so hard in my life. I have to pick out plates on a running conveyor, and then rack them for a wash. One load takes 16 seconds. Goof once, you stop the line. It never ends. At least you get long breaks during
your
shift.”

“Yeah, but I have to be ready to fill in if there's a no-show or an illness. I spend most of that time prepping and rehearsing the next act.”

Tilly checked the rest of her messages on her Omnicomp. She read most of them. Nearly all were date invites. Several men wanted to meet with her. She counted ten that wanted her autograph. She found one from a sender named BGB. Curious, she clicked on it and found a message from Buddy.

Sunshine,

By the time you read this, I'll be outside the entrance to Block 41. I'm parked in the silver cart. I have a surprise for you.

Buddy.

Tilly shook her head, wondering what he had up his sleeve this time. She drafted some letters—one to Sue Lin, one to Fia, who was two bunks above her. She could have easily recited the messages in person, but she like the personal touch of sending and receiving mail. She wrote Dorothy a special letter and marked it “A Secret Admirer.” She figured a little humor would take some of the edge off. She wrote a long letter to her father, describing what she did and who her new friends were. But she left out personal names and her location, certain the sensors would X those things out. When she finished, she pinched Dorothy's leg.

“Dorothy, just how far can we bend the frat rule? I know it says no direct coupling, in the orientation manual. But they don't really spell it out. Have you heard of any punishments for it if you're caught?”

“Well, it's secondhand information, but I think they start to come down on you if you're snuggling. Shaking hands and greeting hugs seem to be okay. No fondling or rubbing. That's what I was told anyway. You'll really blow it if you're caught kissing. They don't like anything complicated here, especially love-dovey stuff. They say it interferes with the work ethic.”

Dorothy grinned mischievously. “Why do you ask? Little hunky cake snooping around?”

“Yeah, he's parked just outside the Block entrance.”

“What are you waiting for?”

Tilly pushed off the bunk and walked to the restroom. She used the facility, then checked herself in the mirror. She'd showered this morning, and it wasn't like she had anything to wash, iron and put on. Her white, one-piece suits were getting monotonous. She walked out of the dormitory and spotted the silver cart, its wing door open on the passenger side. She hopped in. Buddy gave her a quick grin and stepped on the pedal. He'd taken her advice and had his tooth fixed.

“I thought you could use a change of scenery,” said Buddy. “We won't be long.”

“How long have you been waiting out here?”

“About 70 minutes. I knew it was mail day on the girls' side, so I asked somebody to send a message to you.”

“That's dedication.”
Or a penchant for stalking
. She hadn't decided yet.

Buddy had to be a sneak. The men's entertainment Blocks didn't share the same mail day as the women's. Gender was hidden in the code that activated the omincomps. It was another way the company kept down on the male-female coupling between the wards—breaking the communication lines. Apparently, it didn't stop this guy. He might have been good at manipulating stage props but was just as good as manipulating the system. She did like the
fuck the establishment
rogue in him.

Buddy drove straight to the rotunda, then made several turns through a maze of streets and smaller lanes. Tilly hadn't seen all the places of interest in the main structure. She knew they had a library, some craft studios, a small aquarium and an archeological museum. Buddy found a parking area for carts and scooters and slipped into a spot. When Tilly got out of the vehicle she understood the surprise that Buddy had mentioned. United Western Mining had certainly built the carnival she was now looking at. Attractively lit, the rides included a Ferris wheel, carrousel, small roller coaster, spin-whirl, and other assorted rides. Tents flanked a small midway, where games of chance and skill were displayed, all of them calling out to potential customers with large banner ads.

The most amazing sight was the occupants of the rides. The burly miners, most of them wearing civilian clothes, appeared to be having the time of their lives, spinning around, going up and down, their beards flying in the breeze. Many of the men were obese, crammed into the small seats, while others who were very tall had to hold their heads sideways under the protective cage roofs of the smaller rides.

Buddy scooped a handful of tickets out of his pocket. Another surprise. He'd come prepared. He wasted no time dragging her to the Ferris wheel. A ride operator accepted their tickets. They took the slow ride up, stalling at the top. The view offered the highest vantage point in the rotunda. Tilly could see from one end of the dome to the other. All interior space had been utilized for the construction. The landscaping and cultivation of a central park that had dozens of medium-growth trees and shrubbery took up some prized real estate near the middle of the hub.

Buddy shoved back and forth, rocking their ride car. “The carnival's brand new—opened up two days ago. I've been following news of it on the company news web. They took out five acres of botanical gardens to shoe-horn it in. The Dogs love it—don't have to pay for any of it.”

They rotated for a dozen revolutions, marveling at the sites. Buddy wasted no time in hopping aboard every ride within sight, rushing from one to the next. She began to enjoy herself and let her guard down. Several people recognized her, asking her for her autograph. Some of the Dogs gave her salutes of respect; a few whistled and made lewd gestures.

Some of the lines were long, like the spin-whirl which moved with an agonizing slowness. Buddy talked over the calliope music while they waited their turn. “You looking forward to going home when it's over?”

“In a lot of ways, yeah. I miss the open-air freedom, to go anywhere and do anything. But I have to admit that I didn't expect to be noticed in the entertainment industry, like I have been here. Who knows how many auditions and interviews it would have taken me on Earth to get a stage spot like this one.”

“They do really like you here.”

“It could be a fluke, when you consider the audience. The general public might feel different. So, in a way, I'm okay with the way things turned out at Tranquility, even if I'm adored by a bunch of love-struck Prairie Dogs. Gads, I wonder what my mom would have said about it.”

“She'd probably be damned proud of you since she encouraged your talent every step of the way. I'll bet your dad admires you and is counting the days until he can pick you up.”

Tilly's train of thought skipped a few beats. “I don't know if he admires me or not. He never showed much interest in what I was doing. He fought a lot with Mom. It was mostly over his gambling and running us into debt. Mom was head of household, bringing in nearly all of the money. Dad slacked. In the end it got worse.”

“So you're thinking he might default on the loan? That's just sad.”

“I'm just saying that he doesn't have a very good track record in the responsibility department. Whether he pays his loan or not is something I'll have to find out for myself at the end of my term. I wish I had better news, but he hasn't given me much reason to believe in him.”

“And you knew all of this going into the program?”

“Sure. I was agreeable because if I put up a fuss, it wouldn't have done any good. He would have forced it on me. I actually wanted to go, and take a break from him, if that makes any sense. I mean there were times when I could cut the air with a knife because it was filled with negative turmoil. I swear, he started to get psychotic at the end, ranting and talking to the walls.”

“Sorry, but it sounds like there's a possibility he won't keep up his end of the bargain. I wouldn't know how to deal with that. I can depend on Mom. She's smart and frugal. Most important, she's loyal and shows a lot of compassion. She's my best friend. You don't leave best friends hanging in the lurch. I
know
I'm going home.”

“It must be nice to be that close. Mom was close. Dad was always distant.”

He looked at her with more intensity in his eyes than before. “If you had a dream, what would you be doing and where would you be?”

Tough answer, she thought. “I would be doing what I'm doing now. No question. Where? I'm not sure if this is the place to stake my dreams on. By some miracle, I've made it happen for me. But it seems so out of place, like some strange fantasy. This isn't home—the real world. It's just too confusing to think that this place is a real measuring stick for my talent. The audience is captive and soaked with liquor. Where are the real bona fide reviews from the professional critics?”

“I have a feeling you'd do fine anywhere.”

“Thanks, but the real test might be a quarter of a million miles away.”

They went on the spin-whirl. There were times when Tilly thought she would be thrown from the car as it rotated, dove and flipped in crazy figure eights. She held on to Buddy's hand at one point, then the embrace ended in a frantic body hug near the end of the ride sequence.

When the ride ended, they were still clamped firmly in each other's arms. Their eyes met; the gaze lingered. She felt something stir inside the lower part of her stomach. Then came a light-headed feeling. She had to break the embrace, conscious that they were a sight for curious eyes. Sure enough, she looked down to see a half dozen girls had stalled in the midway to look their way. Tilly had no problem picking out Candy Cane Evans and her little entourage. When they stepped off the ride, Buddy came up behind Tilly and draped his hand over her shoulder. She pushed the hand off. But it was too late. Candy grinned and gave her the thumbs down gesture.

“Let's get out of here,” said Tilly. “It's too stuffy.”

Back in the cart and driving through the rotunda streets, Buddy gave Tilly a perplexed look. “Man, is it me or something? I thought everything was okay. Sorry about touching you.”

“It's not you,” said Tilly, gazing out the window. “I mean, it was you, or us. I have a very bad feeling about something. I've got an enemy that isn't going to leave me alone.” She then explained about Candy and her minions spotting them, and Candy's foul gesture.

“That bitch. She's got it in for you. Maybe I should talk to a counselor about it. It's hard enough to keep a clean record working here without some stripper going after your throat. Maybe she was just bluffing.”

“Getting run over wasn't a bluff. I'm not saying she did it, because they haven't found the driver yet. She could have put somebody up to it. She has the power.”

“Then maybe we'll have to fight a little fire with fire,” he said, “without being caught.”

“Don't involve yourself in this. It's a cat fight, plain and simple.”

They drove around for another hour until Buddy's rental time expired on the cart. After returning the cart, Tilly conjured up her most sincere smile and gave Buddy's hand a quick shake. “Thanks for thinking of me today,” she said. “It was a nice change of pace. Maybe we'll do it again when things cool down.” She did mean it. The words even came with a little flush to her face. It surprised her.

“Sure, man. It was fun for me, too. Keep your spirits up. I'll see you on our next shift.”

Tilly left for her dormitory, thinking about everything that had happened to her recently. She didn't take a foot tram. The long walk did her good, the pain in her ribs starting to ease up. Some people stopped her on the way, telling her how much they admired her dancing. It gave her a needed lift, and by the time she neared the entrance to her dormitory, her mind frame had changed for the better. That was until she saw the guard standing by the door. When she tried to enter, he stepped in front of her and asked her for her I.D. Tag. After he read it and handed it back, he pointed his baton down the corridor and said, “Ms. Rogers would like a word with you.”

Tilly had a gut feeling that she had been summoned to the president's office because she had been caught on a security tape. Sure enough, Abigail Billings ran a recorded segment that showed close up shots of Tilly and Buddy in what Abigail called a “fond embrace”, while they rode the spin-whirl at the carnival. Another brief segment showed Buddy draping his arm over her and laughing.

“It was a slip,” said Tilly. “We were caught up in the excitement of the ride.”

“In my experience,” said Abigail, “one impulsive slip leads to another, until that slip becomes a crash and that crash becomes an explosion. Basic friendships are not discouraged here. Intimate relationships cannot be tolerated, since they lead to moral corruptness, emotional and mental anguish for those involved and a disturbance to the work ethic and schedules. Jealousies, fights and turmoil are the direct results.”

“I understand that. But I believe that one of the other girls is setting me up. I can't prove it but I think she is the same one who caused my accident.”

“The guilty party who struck you down with the cart has been apprehended and confined. She is not talking to the authorities about the incident. Sooner or later she'll come clean or be released back to the private sector by her counselor or this office.”