Ascension by Daniel Weisbeck (reading tree .txt) đź“•
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- Author: Daniel Weisbeck
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The stranger shuffled over to her compact kitchen: one short countertop against the wall with a stove and sink. Like a picture framed, the designated area was delineated from the rest of the open-plan room by cabinets underneath the counter to the floor and open shelves reaching all the way to the ceiling overhead. The shelves and wall brackets burst with utensils, pots, pans, and dishware stacked and hung in an orderly manner. They had about them the appearance of many years collected and used but well taken care of.
With her back still to Henry, she peeled back her hood and released a fountain of wild, curly grey and silver hair that hung down to her shoulders. Henry almost let out an audible gasp. He had to force himself to sit quietly, gripping his knees to hold in his surprise.
An elderly woman? How is that possible?
The women collected a tea kettle, filled it with water from the sink tap, and set it on the stove.
“That’s a start,” she said to herself. And set about removing two mugs from the shelf to her left. “I prefer the old-fashioned way. Kettle on the stove. Those food replicators never quite got it right. Everything tastes like metal from those damn things. But you understand, don’t you, Henry? That’s why you brew your own tea.”
Henry blinked before answering. “Ya…ya…yes. But how do you know so…so…so much about me?”
The woman turned to face her visitor. She looked even older than Henry had guessed. Her skin was dry, and the deep wrinkles around her face were well worn into the loose flesh that drooped downward as if she were a living melted candle. Her sea mist green eyes were the only part of her that hinted at a vibrant and still competent human.
“How has an old banger like me avoided Ascension?” she finished his thought. “That’s what you want to know, right?”
“Well, yes.”
“Why? What’s it to you?” She raised one eyebrow as the corner of her mouth slid upward into a half-smile, pulling the sagging skin around her mouth and cheek along the way.
“I have a…a…a friend. I mean Liza.”
“Yes, I know. And you won’t be far behind your friend. Just one year before you’re called to Ascend. Unless, of course, they change the rules again.”
Henry had a sudden realization. An idea which sent his heart racing and hope soaring. “Can you help us? Help us avoid Ascension?”
“Why, Henry Ford.” She let out a loud crackling laugh. “That’s probably the most forward you’ve been your entire life.” The woman removed her cape and shuffled back towards the entrance, where she hung the limp cloth on a lonely naked hook.
A high-pitched whistle from the kettle ejaculated into the air, giving Henry a jolt. He half expected the alarm to wake him from this strange dream. But the smell of freshly brewed tea and old things, musty things, confirmed it was real. He couldn’t ever remember having scents in his dreams.
The old woman calmly made her way back to the Kettle and poured the steaming liquid into a teapot while continuing to talk. “Well, I guess it depends on what you mean by helping you?”
“I don’t understand.”
“I have no influence or means of helping you or Liza avoid Ascension. No, I’m very sorry about that.”
Lifting the tea mugs onto a tray along with a full teapot, she carried it over to the seating area. Upon suddenly noticing that she might need help, Henry jumped to his feet and insisted on taking the tray from her and placed it on the wooden coffee table sat between the sofa and chairs.
The old woman took a seat in one of the antique chairs. “I take mine white, darling.”
Henry poured.
“But that doesn’t mean I can’t help you with what comes after Ascension,” she said matter of fact.
Henry’s mouth dropped open, and his eyes swelled. Slowly, he lifted his face to meet her eye to eye. The hot tea continued to pour out of the pot, spilling over the mug's lip and onto the tray.
“Welcome, Ms Lee. My name is Hildra, and I’ll be your Arranger for Ascension.” said the woman appointed to help Liza plan the end of her life.
The Arranger was a lucky woman. She looked to be in her early twenties, meaning she wouldn’t be up for Ascension for quite some time, if ever. Her dark smooth skin was the perfect example of youth’s bounty: firm, hydrated, and wrinkle-free. A black halo of hair crowned her round cherub face and brown almond eyes. She wore a form-fitted grey uniform with the Dignity orange flame logo on the right chest, accentuating her firm breasts and a lean muscular body. Liza hated her already. Not for her beauty. Liza was not the jealous type. She hated her for the currency of her youth—the price of living she could now, never afford.
Liza inched into the private consultation room and stopped. The sparsely decorated suite felt impromptu and temporary. A single desk sat facing the door, behind which the human Arranger assigned to her Ascension case was still smiling at her. In front of the desk were three chairs, one facing Hildra and the other two tucked away over to the room's left side. The furniture was basic and minimalist, procured for its fast and straightforward production requirements. Ascension clinics had sprung up all around the Sanctuary within weeks of the program being announced. The sterile, nearly empty, white room reflected speed of deployment over-attention to detail.
At seeing Liza hesitate at the door, she waved towards the seat facing her desk. “Please come in, Liza. Can I call you Liza?”
Liza clutched her handbag tightly against her chest with both arms and cautiously walked over to the desk, slowly sitting down on the edge of a chair at a slight angle, as if she were riding a horse side-saddle (as if horses even existed anymore). Sitting all the way back into the chair would be wrong, she felt, conciliatory even. This wasn’t a welcome visit, even if the Arranger had put on a wide, friendly smile and talked to her in a soft familiar voice. No, Liza would not make this easy for the Government. Sitting on the edge of her seat was her protest, her last act of resistance.
Hildra waved her hand over the black glass circle flush in the surface of her desk and a holographic screen beamed up and into the ether of the room. In the upper left corner of the screen was Liza’s 3d image. Listed next to her photo was the standard bio-metric identification records of every Sanctuary citizen: genome sequencing, retinal scan, brain electroencephalogram, and voice imprint. Nobody was invisible. There was no off-grid in the Sanctuary.
Hildra’s eyes shifted left to right as she scanned the data. Satisfied, she turned her focus to Liza. “Let me start by saying how proud we are that you have volunteered to Ascend on behalf of the safety and health of the Sanctuary and humanity itself. I know this must be difficult to take in.” The words were robotic, rehearsed and well-tried.
Liza remained frozen; her brow pinched. Talking seemed absurd. She was here to listen.
The Arranger stared at her for a moment, took a deep breath and started over. The near eye roll hinted at tiredness, boredom, obligation. She had been here before. “How are you coping?”
A burst of unexpected laughter burst out of Liza. She could hear how demonic it sounded, and that gave her some pleasure. She hoped it sounded murderous, terrifying and out of control. However, Hildra just tilted her head sympathetically, unaffected. Liza’s uncontrolled laughter suddenly seemed laughable and childish. This was not how she wanted the session to go. She was supposed to be in control. As her cheeks burned red, she let out one or two more short chuckles as if winding down and sat back in her chair.
Hildra gave her head a slight shake. “Ms Lee, I know this is hard. But you have always understood the purpose of the Sanctuary. We are trying to save the last of humanity here. You have benefited from and contributed to twenty years of effort and innovation to rebuild life on the planet. It’s easy at that time to forget what is at risk. To start feeling safe again. To start feeling the city has an obligation to you, rather than the other way around. If we don’t operate on a zero-tolerance policy concerning a new epidemic, we are all at risk. Everything is at risk. There are no other options for any of us.”
“Easy for you to say,” snapped Liza. “You’re not the one Ascending.”
“We all die, Ms Lee. That’s a fact of life. Would you rather suffer a horrible death by FossilFlu? Like your parents?”
Liza’s face washed pale at the mention of her parents. Memories of sickness, fear, pain and abandonment crawled into her like a dense fog, suffocating her resistance. She suddenly felt helpless all over again, like a child lost in the wild.
The two women stared into each other’s eyes as if competing to see who would blink first. A flash of light on the holographic screen indicated new data coming in. They both shifted their gaze simultaneously to a red flag that had appeared on Liza’s registration form in the upper right corner.
“Well, that’s interesting,” said the Arranger. “Your record has just been updated. Seems you’ve had contact with the protestors since your visit to the clinic?” Hildra looked through the screen with a single raised eyebrow.
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