Under Vanishing Skies (7 page)

I listened to the conversion of the couple at the table next to me. They spoke English, but based on the guy’s accent I guessed that he was either German or Austrian. He was telling the middle-aged redhead about his day. He described a fight that took place at the loading docks in the morning.

Macho bullshit. Probably trying to get laid.

Then he complained about how few cargo loads there were lately. He had only unloaded five boats today. It was what he didn’t mention that I found interesting. He didn’t say a word about the attack on our boat. I wondered if the news hadn’t gotten out yet or if he didn’t want to scare the woman.

I drained my glass and refilled it. Some of it spilled on my data mat, which sat unfolded and untouched on the table. I’d been avoiding it all night.

“
Fuck it,” I said under my breath.

Using the side of my hand, I wiped the moonshine from the data mat and then tapped the screen to open the Council database. I navigated to the Evacuation Eligibility spreadsheet and opened it. I scrolled down until I found what I was  looking for: Lanka and Senil’s names. Their entire lives summed up on two rows of the spreadsheet. I highlighted their information and let my finger hover above the CHANGE STATUS button. I grabbed my glass with my other hand, drank a silent toast to them, and then selected one of the options from the drop down list. Their status changed from ELIGIBLE to DECEASED. I hit the CONFIRM button and polished off what was left in my glass. A second later, my data mat chirped as an automated message popped open.

SUBJECT: CHANGE NOTIFICATION

THIS AUTOMATED NOTIFICATION WAS SENT TO INFORM YOU OF A CHANGE TO THE LIST. THE FOLLOWING INFORMATION WAS CHANGED:

NAME ISLAND CHANGE

LANKA CHANDRA LOHIFUSHI STATUS-DECEASED

SENIL CHANDRA LOHIFUSHI STATUS-DECEASED

Every member of the Council should’ve gotten the same message. I sat back and sighed because I knew what they were all doing. They were scrambling to submit their next top two candidates to fill those empty slots. Sure enough, a few seconds later I began receiving candidate submission emails.

“
Bastards!”

I must have said it louder than I had intended because the room went silent. There was no point looking up. I knew that everyone was staring at me. To hell with them!

After a minute, people started talking again. I heard someone say hello, and from the sound of the voice I knew who said it. I looked up and saw a short, bald Maldivian strolling through the room like he owned the place. He did.

Before the storm, Ahmed Walheed was a successful business man. After the storm, he became the Prime Minister of the Maldives. He still held the title, but it didn’t mean much anymore. His new title, President of the Council of Thirteen, was what he preferred. The president wielded more power.

Shit! He saw me and was headed this way. An unconvincing sympathetic look was plastered on his face. His eyes were sad above his ever-present smile. It was the kind of smile that would look at home on an undertaker who sold used cars on the side.

Ahmed stopped in front of my table and pulled out a handkerchief. As he wiped the sweat off his forehead, I couldn’t help but notice the massive sweat stains that stretched from his armpit to the hip pockets of his seersucker coat. Hell, I could be standing on the other side of the island and I’d be able to see those stains.

When he finished mopping his brow, he shoved the handkerchief into his pocket and said, “Aron, I am so sorry about the unfortunate incident today. It was disturbing to hear that pirates are operating so close to Male.”

Getting a flat tire was an unfortunate incident. Losing your fucking wallet was an unfortunate incident. But the brutal slaying of two young men…two good young men, was a goddammed tragedy and it took all the will I could muster to keep from burying my fist in his face to convey that message.

“
I’m not in the mood, Ahmed.”

“
I understand. I just wanted to make sure that you were okay. We all heard about the attack and everyone was asking about you.”

I’m sure they did. They probably wanted to know if another slot on the list would open up. “Well, as you can see for yourself….I’m fine.” I held my arms out. “No bullet holes. No giant gashes through my body. So just tell everyone that I’ll see them tomorrow at the Council meeting.” I grabbed my glass to take a drink and realized it was empty. I set it back down. “And if you don’t mind, I’m tired and I’m going to bed.”

Ahmed looked at the water bottle and then at me. I’m sure he knew that it wasn’t water.

Come on, bastard. Say something. Give me an excuse to slug you.

But he was too smart for that. He let it go and said, “Yes, yes, of course. Go and get some rest. We have a long week ahead of us.”

He patted my shoulder with his puffy hand, making the hairs on the back of my neck prickle. Before turning to leave, he said, “But there is one thing that we should discuss before tomorrow.”

Here it comes.

“
I know that you are new to the Council and that it must be difficult for you to understand the give-and-take that must occur to finalize the list of evacuees.”

“
I got no problem with give-and-take, Ahmed. What I got a problem with is the give-and-give that you guys expect from me.”

He shook his head. “That is not what we expect. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I think we should look past our differences and rise above these petty issues. We have less than two weeks before the ship arrives and if we don’t come to a consensus, then as you know, the ship’s captain will make the decision for us.”

I pushed my chair away from the table and said, “Petty issues? Are you trying to piss me off!”

Ahmed pulled out his stained handkerchief from his hip pocket and wiped the back of his neck. “Now Aron, please settle down. I am sure that it will come as no surprise to you that there are some members of the Council, not me mind you, but others, who think that you are responsible for the stalemate.”

I stood up. My chair fell onto its back. “Responsible? They think 
I’m
 responsible for the bullshit that’s going on?”

Ahmed held his hands up in front of him like a traffic cop and looked around. “Please, lower your voice.” He smiled at the people next to us. Then he leaned close to me and whispered, “The Council just thinks that you are being a little…unreasonable.”

I shook my head and laughed. “I’m being unreasonable. Are you shitting me? I’m not the one stacking the list with people who don’t meet the basic selection criteria. And I’m not talking about a couple of people. Last week alone I identified over one hundred candidates who were over the age of sixty and another two hundred who have serious physical and mental health issues and I—”

“
Aron, Aron…” he said nearly in a whisper. “I am on your side. I too want to do the right thing, but you must understand that sometimes rules must be bent. Surely there are a few people you would like to see on the list, but perhaps they don’t meet all of the criteria?”

“
Don’t try that pulling that shit with me! I know how that games ends.” He sounded just like those bastards at SatComm Control Services. They just wanted a one-year extension on the contract in return for a vacation in the Maldives…a little quid pro quo. They said nobody would know and they were right. A week later the storm hit. Nobody ever did find out. They couldn’t…they were dead.

“
What game?” he asked. “You’re not making any sense.”

The room began to spin and I held on to the edge of the table. A little voice in my head agreed with him. I wasn’t making any sense and I should’ve probably shut up. But I hated that little voice, so I ignored it.

“
Look,” I said as calmly as I could. “You helped write the damned charter for the Council. The charter states that we’re supposed to choose candidates who can contribute to the growth and welfare of the Mars colony. Most of the candidates you’ve submitted have nothing to offer the colony. Just the opposite, they’ll require the welfare of the colony to stay alive.”

“
I think you are exaggerating a bit.”

“
Exaggerating?” I reached down and snatched my data mat off the table. My head was still spinning and that little voice kept talking. It begged me to walk away. That voice was such a pussy. I hadn’t listened to that voice in years and I wasn’t about to start now.

My fingers stumbled as I typed in a search string. Eventually I found what I was looking for.

Holding the data mat in front of Ahmed’s face I said, “Here! Here is what I’m talking about. It’s one of yours. Why the hell are you sending this guy? He’s seventy-three years old with a chronic heart problem. What makes you think he’d survive the ten-month trip to Mars? Even if he did, he’d probably be dead within a month of arrival. Am I exaggerating about him?”

Ahmed’s face turned a deep shade of red and he wagged his stubby index finger an inch from my nose. “Prasad Rannabandeyri Kilegefan is a very important man. Very important! He is the great grandson of Ibrahim Nasir Rannabandeyri Kilegefan, the first president of the Maldivian Republic. He is a symbol for all Maldivians. He must go to Mars.”

“
Do you hear yourself? This isn’t about saving the Maldivian society. This is about saving mankind. The colony doesn’t need symbols. The colony needs people with skills.”

I was about to slap the bastard with my data mat when Melana, a young Maldivian girl who helped her mom work in the dining room, suddenly appeared between Ahmed and me. She picked up my uneaten plate of fish and quietly asked, “Are you finished with your food?”

I stared at her for a second, thrown off guard by her question. I nodded. She smiled and returned to the kitchen. I watched her walk through the kitchen doors and just stood there as the doors swung back and forth. Finally, I looked back over at Ahmed.

A strained smile filled his face as he dabbed beads of sweat on his forehead. “I can see that you are still upset from your trip,” he said. “Let us save this discussion for chambers tomorrow. I am sure we can find some common ground.”

Ahmed turned and walked out of the dining room, stopping by a few tables along the way to shake hands and pat backs. As I watched him go, my hand found the bottle. I raised it to my lips and took a gulp.

What the hell was I doing? The sooner this list was finalized, the sooner I could get back to fishing.

Chapter 5

“
Mister Chairman, point of order,” Michio said.

Almost everyone on the Council ignored Michio’s call for order. Some people spoke quietly in small groups along the walls, while others talked loudly to one another from across the U-shaped, mahogany table that was set up in the center of the room. It was a huge table full of elaborately carved palm trees and tropical flowers on the legs and corner moldings. As big as the table was, it looked like a piece of children’s furniture in the giant banquet hall.

The room had once hosted conferences and wedding receptions. Wedding receptions…what kind of people would have a wedding reception in this room?

The floor was covered in a loud, jungle print carpet that smelled moldy. On the far side of the room, a series of tall, multi-paned windows lined the wall. The windows looked out onto the ocean. Hung between each window were neon purple draperies. The color somehow amplified the pounding hangover in my head. The loud, gaudy decor just didn’t seem like a good venue for a wedding event, but it seemed perfectly suited for the Council of Thirteen.

I rested my elbows on the table and cradled my head in my hands just in case it exploded. When I awoke this morning, I thought it already had.

I looked over at Ahmed, who reclined in the only high-backed chair in the room. He sat at the head of the table next to his cousin, Viyaja, and both were ignoring Michio’s plea to restore order. Ahmed and Viyaja appeared preoccupied with their game of whisper tag. Viyaja laughed and I cringed when I saw his teeth. They looked like something out of a novelty catalog; long, square, and jumbled together. He was either afraid of dentists or he practiced some archaic religion that forbade braces.

“
Point of order, mister chairman,” Michio repeated for what seemed like the hundredth time.

Michio was nothing if not persistent. I bet he never had this problem back when he was a mid-level bureaucrat in the Japanese government. The Japanese were pretty well known for their devotion to rules and order. This must be an absolute hell for him.

Besides Shannon, Michio was the only other person on the Council that I trusted and genuinely liked. Rick had told me about him. He told me that there was a lot more to the guy than met the eye, but he never explained what he meant. It didn’t matter. Michio helped me get up to speed on the Council and taught me about the parliamentary rules that governed it. It was during those lessons that I had discovered that we shared a few things in common.