The Household of Terrace Hill

Highlands of Apollo, U.L.O.P. (The United Land of The People), November 2086

It was cold. She could feel it seeping into her bones. She inhaled the damp, icy air. It stung her nose and made her throat tighten and ache. She scrunched her body more tightly together and wrapped her arms around herself drawing her thick shaw closer. It was morning already. She dreaded the day. She could sense the touch of sunlight on her face, and hear the utterly cheerful birds screeching outside her window. They were making her aware that it was time to get up. She squinted her eyes wishing for just a few more hours of sleep. She would have to let more people go today. She couldn’t help them anymore. She couldn’t protect them. She had nothing to offer. No place. No home. No position.

She stirred around in the bed, the silk sheets rustling, their presence mocking her, they did little to warm her. Useless things! Maybe they could be traded, to pay a few workers. Everything had been taken, and even more, would be confiscated in the future- unless there was a major political shift. She was beyond debating whether the policymakers had the people’s interest at heart. She now understood that grand speeches, the well-spun dreams, the seeming kindhearted and well-meaning plans were scrapped. She had worked hard to bring about this reality.

She rose from her bed still huddled up in her layers of clothing. The silk sheets were , luckily,carelessly tossed aside. She looked around the room and sighed. The fire was bare. The floorboards were frigid. Ice-covered the windowsills. She could see her breath as she responded to the knock at the door with,

“Come in.” Her voice was raspy, and she began to cough.

“Miss, I brought some water to wash your face.” a young woman said as she opened one of the large white doors.

“You didn’t have to do that, Alicia.” she turned to her longtime companion, now friend. Her mother had hired Alicia from the time she was twelve to keep her company. Her eyes moved to Alicia’s face, still recovering from the injuries she had received. She gave her a sad, sweet smile.

“Thank you.”

“I thought you’d be cold, Miss, you wouldn’t allow me to use any firewood for your room.” Alicia walked across the room setting a pitcher and basin on the vanity table and then briskly walked toward the window to let in some fresh air.

“There won’t be much firewood left. The Smiths have a new baby, and she shouldn’t be cold.”

“What an awful time to be giving birth!” Alicia spat, “bringing in another mouth to feed!”

Alica spoke heartlessly, but she was right, as depressing as it was. It was the truth.

Tarra made her way to the vanity. She scrubbed her face, and in vain tried to make her wiry hair look presentable.

“Alicia, what’s on the agenda today?” She said hoping to get this day started, maybe it would end quickly and she could sleep through some of her life.

“Your father is still, in the High City trying to negotiate the removal of the travel bans, so he can return home. Another servant ran off last night but he only took a set of silverware, he probably thought he could trade them for some Kredits, but it wasn’t the real silver. Since you hid those earlier. You have a meeting with the Chief of Staff later, and the post will arrive at ten. It should contain instructions for the redistribution of property. We are down to one week’s worth of food, and half a bin of firewood. That amount of fuel should last about three days. That is if M’lady continues being stubborn and not lighting a fire in her room.” Alicia was annoyed.

Tarra had donned a pair of breeches and a long tunic with a warm blue sweater. Her dark blonde hair was now tied back in a semi neat low braid, but her curls were already trying to escape. She opened the white box that was on the vanity table. She removed a heart-shaped locket bearing an intricate crest. She saw Alicia’s expression had subtly changed as her eyes once again caught sight of the locket. She could see her hand absently touching yet another injury on her wrist.

Tarra swallowed. She hated seeing her like that. Alicia was of her family’s household! She was one of her people. In the past, no one would have dared touch her. But was that the problem? Was she more bothered that she no longer had power or position, than the fact that her dear friend was cruelly treated? The way no one should ever be treated, by people who she believed could never be so calloused. The answer to that question bothered Tarra. A headache was beginning and it wasn’t even mid-morning. It was best not to think too much about her motives. she might not like them.

Tarra looked at her friend in the reflection of the mirror.

“We will have to talk more about it soon, Alicia.”

Alicia turned away and whispered. “I know, miss.”

“I called the garrison, they want me to take you out there to be looked at by an army doctor. They said they don’t have the time to make house calls, and it’s lucky they are seeing us at all”

“I will go and prepare for our departure” Alicia walked to the door, stopped, took a deep breath, and said.

“I was so excited when the new Prime Minister came into power. I thought it would be different...It would be like a dream, it’s not, it’s more like hell.

Tarra looked at Alicia’s tense back, “They say hell is much worse, Darling.”

Alicia’s fist clenched, “What do they know,” she whispered as she walked out and shut the door softly behind her. Her careful actions saddened Tarra more than if she would have slammed it.

It was almost 10. The Chief of Staff would arrive at any moment. Tarra went to the kitchen to put on some tea for her visitor.

She shouldn’t be nervous. But she was. The nation had seemed to be in an upheaval, and she was at the center of it.

Tarra recalled the detailed entries from her grandmother’s diary. Her youthful scrawl depicted another time that was so different than now. A time when there were many nations, many flags, and many languages.

Now, this was a time unlike any other. There were no other nations, no other language, no other flags. Money was no good, resources were everything unless you had digital government Kredit which was traced and at the mercy of those who distributed it. Everything was one, only one. Only one nation.Only one flag. Only one currency. Only one ruler. Prime Minister Jacob Amon Tirich.

However, it seemed to Tarra that everything was gone. All under the slogan, “Prosperity and Equality.” Was this how it was supposed to be? it seemed that the prosperity had run out and they were all equally wanting and vulnerable...unless you had something to offer.

Tarra shook off her complicated thoughts of the past and returned to the present. She placed the tea set in the receiving room just as the doorbell chimed announcing the arrival of the Chief of Staff. Alicia answered the door.

“Good Heavens, Alicia! What happened to your face?“ The tall, thin man with a pasty complexion and a rather thin comb-over entered the house.

Ignoring his question, Alicia, motioned for him to continue into the receiving room.

Tarra stood, giving a little bow. “Welcome, Sir, was your journey tolerable? Tarra motioned for him to take a seat and offered him a cup of tea.

“It was ghastly, my darling girl, I was covered in coal dust and smog, the sooner we get rid of this mining business the better.” he sniffed and grinned.

“I know you agree, with me, you can’t wait to see the latest and greatest amenities in your district. I know the Prime Minister, has great respect for your family. He also is in quite a few deliberations with your father. He asked me to put you in charge of this project. He believes you are ready for it. It is a marvelous opportunity for you and the country! He would like you to speak to the companies and factories and explain the benefits -if they don’t hop on board make them.”

Terra began to get a knot in her stomach. In the past, this is what she had so desperately wanted and worked for. She had trained to be of importance and use to the most elite. To climb the latter, to speak with Kings, and princes, on behalf of other powerful people. She knew this would be the first step. However, a sense of turmoil began to grow inside her.

“By what means should I convince them if they do not want to give up their lands, and companies for repurposing.”

“Any means necessary, it doesn’t matter just get it done.”

The coldness in his eyes, along with his friendly smile, enerved Tarra.

“How long do I have to decide?”

“Of course, you don’t have to be a part of this project, many families want to participate. You are my first choice because I like your family and I believe in you.” He smiled once again.

Tarra wasn’t fooled by his words, he didn’t care about her at all. Also, she wasn’t sure if she believed in this project any longer. Her stomach ached a bit, she wished she didn’t have so many worries. Wait…

“What is the compensation for this project?” Tarra asked.

First things first, they needed to survive, she gripped the locket tightly in her hand running her thumb over the crest. Trying to calm herself. She didn’t want to sell her soul, but to let her people live with food, shelter, and heat! What couldn’t she do? It wouldn’t be forever and she had believed them once before. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe she was being impatient and this was just the growing pains before the good times. The good times that they were promised. Tarra took a deep breath the locket still clutched in her hand. She knew that the good times were not coming. Not the way things were being done now.

“Of course, you would want compensation! We will compensate you generously with Kredits.” He said, proudly.

“Sir, I don’t want Kredits, I want the woods to the north. The party allotted them as a government resource and thereby protected and illegal to harvest, distribute, or replant. I want control over that.”

The chief of Staff’s eyes narrowed. He tilted his head and a slow grin began to spread across his face.

“I’ll have my secretary draw up the paperwork immediately. If you can deliver...”

“Chief of Staff to the Prime Minister, I formally accept your invitation.”

Tarra stood smiled, offered her hand. All the while thinking that if her people get hurt again because of this dream all bets were off. For now, they would eat, they would be warm, they would survive. They would not continue in this state of ruin.

Later that evening, a present arrived on the doorstep-- a case of firewood, and with it a document with the seal of the Prime Minster granting her rights to the northern woods as long as she was in his employ.

Whether she had made the right or wrong decision Tarra wasn’t certain, but tonight she slept with a fire in her room, and sent extra to the Smiths, to keep their new baby warm. That would be enough for today. One more day. One more day. Maybe a better day would come. One more day at a time.