((School Assignment))
Star Crossed
xxxxxIt was cold. There were so many voices, all trying to say something, but he just wanted to stay asleep because he was cold. So very, very cold.
xxxxx“Boy, wake up. We’ve arrived,” a stern voice ordered.
xxxxx“He’s only six. Do you think we used too much FrozoneTM on him?” a softer voice observed.
xxxxx“The others came out of stasis just fine. This one’s just faking it,” the stern one said again. The child opened his eyes, flinching away slowly from the bright, artificial lights and the metal casket he was in. “See?” the voice said smugly. It belonged to a stubbled man, a man the boy knew, though his brain hadn’t managed to catch up. “Up,” the man ordered once more, pulling the boy from his stasis chamber.
xxxxxThe boy that tumbled out was thin, pale, and had a mop of light brown hair still trying to figure out how gravity worked in this new place. He wore a white jumper suit similar to the one the man was wearing. Other scenes similar to this one happened around them; women in their suits fretted at stasis controls while men tried to herd children towards a door in the stark white wall. That’s what all the passengers were: children. They all looked remarkably similar, though all were in slightly different states of awareness and had a different patch sewn to their jumpers. The boy looked down, trying to read his upside-down letters through the polyester clouds hovering over his senses.
xxxxx“Charles, stand on your own. Get in line, and stay quiet,” the man said, depositing the boy in a small group of other children his age. They all looked half asleep, gazing at each other with glazed expressions. Their tags read things like “MARLY, A.SUMMERS” and “QUINTEN, D” from what Charles could see.
xxxxxA few older children were deposited by the wall before the man with stubble stood before the line, hands clasped behind him. “This is where I leave you,” he said to the sterile, recycled air, “Group A, you’ll be going with Miss Maddison to your next destination. Group B, follow Goodman down that hall, and behave for him. Group C, this is Mister Nelson. He’s a local farmer and will be driving you to your new homes. Group D, you will…” As the man continued to give out orders, the children began tugging at their jumpers to get a look at their patches. Some of the older kids helped the smaller ones get where they needed to be. It started off a quiet turbulence, but as soon as the babies started trading hands, their yowling forced the adults to step in and move things along more quickly.
xxxxxCharles was pushed by a larger girl into a group of kids with C stitched on their patches. Mr. Nelson approached, his hands fluttering above the young heads around him like he was conducting a masterpiece. “Aight,” he snipped, “Looks like you’re all here. Call me John. I’ll be your ride to Durand Settlement. Welcome to Mars and all that.” As he turned to walk away, the children in group C followed like the lost ducklings they were. The dust-covered jumper led the group down a couple more tight, white corridors and down shiny ladders until they all climbed through a cloth tunnel that was bright with natural light instead of the fluorescents in the larger ship.
xxxxxAt the base of that ladder was a small area covered in paint and dust. “Sit on here, and get your visors on,” John said, gesturing at a pair of benches on the sides of the small area. Charles watched as John tapped a small button on his jumper and then imitated the motion. A pale, transparent substance immediately covered the boy’s face and fogged with his breath. Looking at the others on their benches, a couple of wires wrapped around their heads, holding down hair and fixing a strange, plastic square sealed to their faces.
xxxxxJohn paced through the compartment, checking visors and knocking a couple of the less responsive masks to make sure the child behind it was awake. Then, there was a hiss as the ladder they’d entered through retreated and John slid a panel of clear and scratched-up plastic over it. When the local was done, Charles watched him climb through a small hole in the wall, and not long after that, there was a rumble and a lurch as they began to move away from the ship that had brought them here.
xxxxxThe ride was hushed as the children bobbed in time to the cart’s travels. It was such a strange place, and nothing was nearly as dark or familiar as it used to be. “I heard one of the ladies on the shuttle talk about farms. You think we’re going to live on a farm?” one of the children said quietly.
xxxxx“What’s a farm?” Charles asked his neighbor, an older girl who shook slightly where she sat.
xxxxx“It’s like a place where you grow the stuff other people eat,” she said, “At least, I think that’s what farms are.”
xxxxx“Mum told me there weren’t farms on Mars,” a smaller boy said across the cart, trying to rub his nose through his visor. The way is smushed and fogged made him seem almost inhuman.
xxxxx“Well, if there’s no farms, where do we live?” another girl asked.
xxxxx“Think they live in those deep holes like back home?” her younger neighbor asked.
xxxxx“Better stop thinking of Earth like that, or you’ll never be happy here,” a sullen voice called from the back of the cart. It was the oldest child in their group, and his visor was covered in the mist from his breath, hiding even the semblance of a normal face. “They’re not going to let you go back, so you might as well get comfortable here.”
xxxxx“Weren’t you on the moon base before they caught you?” an older kid asked huffily.
xxxxx“Yeah. They tried to stick me there, and they caught me when I tried to leave. They’re doing the same here, so shut your mouth about home. You don’t have one to go back to,” the boy said. By the time he’d finished, the children next to him had pulled back, and some of the younger ones were crying.
xxxxxCharles was shocked to a cold stillness as the cart suddenly careened to one side. They had all expected it to be another bump like ones before, but they stayed tilted distinctly towards John’s seat, and the now silent children waited for their journey to end.
xxxxxIt didn’t take long, and at the end of their ride, John climbed back into the children’s area to slide back the plastic cover. There was another hiss, and a ladder dropped down through the new hole. “Up you go,” John said with a wave of his arms, “Wait for the nice ladies and pay attention to them, ya hear?” Charles waited his turn before climbing the ladder. It was a much longer tunnel, and his eyes hurt from all the bright yellow by the time the ladder ended.
xxxxxAt the top of the ladder, a woman’s hand reached down to help his small form out of the ladder hatch. Up there, Charles got his first glimpse of his new home, and it was nothing like his old one. They emerged in a large, domed structure covered in metal support beams and glass coated with at least three layers of rust-colored dust. In the distance, other rounded shapes rose from the red-orange landscape, some large and dark while others held the first natural green any of the children had ever seen. It was strange to see a jagged skyline rising up around them from their place in a large crater, and there were scared whispers about the distinct lack of buildings to take up all the ground between here and there. Together, the children were herded to one side of the ladder where another adult was sifting through them and looking at their patches.
xxxxxSome children were put into a small, vulnerable line while others were taken individually to the growing crowd. When Charles had his turn, he was spared from the line and taken to the crowd to be introduced to a Mr. and Mrs. Lennon. Mr. Lennon was a broad man, and his wife was about as grim-faced as it could get. Neither of them smiled when he approached. There was a bit of digital document signing before Charles was led away with his new family.
xxxxxThe Lennons didn’t talk much. Simple orders like “Follow us,” and “Sit here,” were as close to a conversation Charles got with his new parents on their way home. The three of them climbed down another ladder in the large dome and into a small vehicle similar to John’s cart. The major difference was the large plastic shield dominating one half of the vehicle, but there was also only one compartment, instead of the two from the cart.
xxxxx“Sit there, and hold onto something,” Mr. Lennon said, pointing to another bench behind two perfectly serviceable chairs. Those were dominated by the married couple. Charles watched the controls as best he could, but eventually got distracted by the buildings they passed on their way home. The black ones were covered in solar panels, and the smaller structures around them looked like homes.
xxxxxThe vehicle passed a number of these dust-covered structures at increasingly longer intervals until they finally stopped at a small collection of buildings surrounded by rows of bright green extending like spokes of a wheel from the small, black buildings.
xxxxx“Mask up. We’re walking inside,” Mrs. Lennon said, turning on her visor; Charles fancied she showed more emotion this way. When she leaned over and pressed another button on the ankles of her suit, he quickly did the same, marveling at the inflatable white boots suddenly covering his feet. Mrs. Lennon didn’t leave much time for him to wonder, though, and Charles had to stumble his way out of the vehicle to avoid getting left behind.
xxxxxFrom then on, Charles lived in a small room within the cluster of buildings the Lennons lived in. It was difficult. The boy had to work himself to exhaustion or he would stay up, worried about being left behind in the barren landscape without a single hole to hide in. Because of this perhaps irrational fear, Charles stuck close to the adults, attempting but never quite achieving a sense of security. His longest conversations were with Mr. Lennon whenever he had to be taught how to operate a new piece of machinery in one of the 16 farming modules the Lennons owned. They grew strange plants, a different kind in each module. Charles helped harvest purple stems from plants that turned into a strange tea Mrs. Lennon had each morning, and he planted seeds with a picture of a small red flower on it. There were tall plants and short ones, buried plants and sharp ones. The inedible plants were sent to the settlement’s center each month with John, apparently the local delivery man.
xxxxx“Have you ever thought about leaving?” Charles asked the man one day as he helped to load up bundles of a tall, hardy plant into the cart. Progress was slow as Charles glanced toward the sky, looking for hints of the terrifyingly silent sandstorms that had run through a few days after John’s last visit.
xxxxx“Nah, but I grew up here. You came from the stars. Makes sense you’d want to return to them,” the older man said, “Give it some time. It’s only been a year. Maybe you’ll grow to like it here.” The cheery man patted Charles, reminding him of the bundles they had to load up.
xxxxxAt one point, Mr. Lennon announced, “Time for your learning. Get over to the terminal.” Usually, the terminal was only used to talk to the Lennon relatives back on Earth, so Charles was surprised when he was told to use it. The small computer embedded in the wall chirped as he logged in. “Tap this,” Mr. Lennon explained, already tapping the new icon himself, “Now, do these lessons today, you got that?”
xxxxx“Yes, sir,” Charles said quietly, trying to read the text that came up on the screen. “What are sub-trac-tons?” he asked, sounding out the word as best he could. No response met his question, so he turned, only to see Mrs. Lennon’s stern face glaring at him from the dinner dishes. Charles hurriedly turned back to the terminal and focused on his lesson.
xxxxxThere were similar episodes involving other subjects. The Lennon’s weren’t bad people, but each time they didn’t acknowledge him or comfort him, the boy was reminded of Earth and the parents and orphanage keepers there. He tried to keep at it and learn, but after Mr. Lennon stopped helping with his short papers and math problems, his progress slowed to a standstill, the same volume problem hovering over the terminal whenever he logged in.
xxxxxCharles did his best to try to get close to his adoptive parents, especially when the schooling idea failed. He tried working extra hours in the farms or cooking breakfast. Each night, he’d report on his activities to the same cold faces and uninterested conversation. At some point, John became the only human who would listen to his strange complaints about Mars and the life that just seemed to suck out everything into its dreary red sand.
xxxxx“I’ve been thinking,” Charles told John one day, “I can get as far as out of the farm, but I can’t figure out what to do from there.” The feathery leaves of this month’s crop tickled his arms as he loaded them into the cart.
xxxxx“You’ve been talking about leaving for almost ten years and you haven’t figured out what to do after the farm?” John asked. He did less of the loading, now, especially since Charles was now more than capable, but their conversations were still a bright spot in the otherwise grey days.
xxxxx“It’s not like I can just get on a ship and launch out of here,” the boy countered, “The Lennons would never lend me the money. Mrs. Lennon actually showed an emotion when I asked them. I’m pretty sure it was equal parts anger and fear, though I can never tell with her. Besides, there’s nothing I could do that the modern bots couldn’t.”
xxxxxJohn was silent for a moment before glancing around for the farm’s other inhabitants. “What if you didn’t work with the bots?” he muttered to himself.
xxxxx“What was that?” John leaned out of the cart and looked at the man’s silvering eyebrows.
xxxxx“I got an old friend who owns an older tub. It doesn’t like cooperating with any of the newer bots, so he has to keep real workers to keep it running.” John bent over and hauled up an extra bale of the feathery plant to Charles. “I’ll send him a ping, see if he could use a new hand.”
xxxxx“Why? You’ve never mentioned this friend before.” Charles grunted as he pulled the bale into the cart.
xxxxx“He only comes around every few years, and it doesn’t look like you’re particularly happy around here, even if I hoped you would.” When Charles emerged from the cart, John was studiously looking at the next bale, carefully holding the feathered leaves.
xxxxx“But what about you? Won’t you get in trouble?” The young man stepped down from the cart, trying to find what was wrong with the bale.
xxxxx“Nah. I’m just the delivery man and a little too old to be holding back at this point.” When John smiled, his grin was gap-toothed and dusty, but it was still visible through the scratched visor
xxxxxFrom there, plans moved quickly. John’s mysterious friend was scheduled to arrive within the year, and there were a number of small problems that needed to be dealt with. Charles started out asking the Lennons if he could get some help to work his way off the planet, but their disapproving glares and cold words quickly derailed that idea. Instead, he resolved to trick them and make his way out of the farm on his own. There had to be a use for all those years of planning, after all.
xxxxxIt was yet another silent meal at the pale, sterile dinner table. John and his cart had trundled off earlier that day to set their plan in motion. After Charles finished his last meal with the Lennons, he stood and headed for the exit.
xxxxx“Where are you going?” Mr. Lennon asked, hardly any inflection in his voice after a day of work.
xxxxxCharles stumbled for an answer before settling on, “I think I left one of the machines on. I’ll just go turn it off.” Mr. Lennon grunted in acknowledgement, a response far more alive than anything his wife gave.
xxxxxThe last time he would ever walk one of the modules, Charles glanced at their contents and gave them a sad smile. John would be hauling these next month. Buried at the end of the module was a small pack with all the clothes and belongings he currently owned. After retrieving them and activating his visor, Charles stepped out into the red landscape around the desolate farm.
xxxxxJust out of sight, John’s cart rumbled quietly, waiting for its extra passenger. The trip out was as exciting as the trip in, and by the second evening away, Charles was on an old ship with a new life ready for him out among the stars he came from.
((A/N: Welcome to my final paper. This was inspired by the story of Charles Frederick, a real person known as a "train rider" during the times of the American Orphan Trains. Basically, the Orphan Trains were a prototype of the modern foster system. There were a ton of orphans in the cities, and farmers out West needed workers, so why not offer young workers so long as the adults promise to provide an adequate home? As you can already tell, this backfired. Many young children were "adopted" simply because they could be considered unpaid labor. Others were adopted into loving homes. Charles falls in between, since his family never really loved him, but they didn't abuse him either. There's a novel called "Orphan Train" out there with some really cool explanations of how the system worked and its effects on kiddos. If you're not comfortable with adult content, try to get the kid-friendly edition, since it's still a cool book. Now, as mentioned above, this was a school assignment. I was to find a real person and then write a short story based on their life. As you can see, mine didn't stay very short. It still fit into the 5-page maximum as long as you stayed single-spaced, though!~ I chose Charles mainly because his story was the easiest to adapt into something of a more sci-fi nature. I make no secret of the fact that I don't enjoy writing in the current time, but none of the stories I found worked particularly well in a fantasy setting, so now we have this! I hope you liked it >^.^<))
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