We Are Each Other's

“And there will be sun?” Wren pressed. Her tiny shoulders stiffened. Her gaze darkened. Birdlike, her name apt. She was stronger than she looked.

Wren didn’t like this room. Bright and white. It was garish, clearly a display of unimaginable wealth. She was filthy, in stark contrast with everything around her, and this added to her discomfort.

George Walter Beltain III smiled his silver-spooned grin, “Yes, it’s just there. Unless, you go underneath some sort of shelter. Like a house. Or a tree. And it stays in the sky until it goes down- you can actually see that. But then it comes back up again. Fascinating.”

These words had no meaning to Wren. “The sun will destroy me, I won’t even have time to finish the job before I’m dead.”

“We have a new technology. Still in beta-testing, but, but so far, we’ve been successful. You will be sent to before. Before the mines. Before the nuclears. Before the war. Before the famine. To 2019.”

“The job is easy. Go back. Take out the hit, just the one. Female, elderly, alone. As payment, you, and your daughter will have food- real food, clean water, fresh air. As much as you want. Whenever you want. And your new suite will be equipped with a skylight.”

Again, Wren was confused. An unknown word.

“It’s similar to a window on the surface. Just for sun. But it filters out the radiation, so the sun is safe.”

“How long will this arrangement last?”

George nodded, “For the rest of your life. For the rest of your daughter’s life.”

“And how will I get back? To now?” Wren asked.

George placed a glass bottle of crystal-clear water in front of Wren. The name Gideon was displayed predominately along the side. Wren admired how the artificial light hit the bottle, it glinted as though it winked at her. “I’m having one, you want one?” George inquired. He slurped the water and swished it around in his mouth. Relished the taste while Wren tried not to gawk.

“You will be sent forth with a serum along with a few necessities in a pack. Find a body of water, take the serum and return back to now. Then receive your payment. Easy.” George assured her. Wren sat very still.

She took a deep breath.

“Okay, I’ll do it.” Wren snatched the bottle, took a sip and pocketed the rest.

The interview concluded when George Walter Beltain III smirked, “You can say goodbye first. And then I’ll send my scientists.”

Wren walked home alone. A tune reverberated throughout the mines. It pulsated underfoot, like a minor earthquake. Wren hummed along. There was blood still crusted around her cuticles and under her fingernails. Not hers, of course. From the day’s earlier job.

In near darkness now, Wren ran her hand over the mine’s wall and felt the cool earth under her fingertips. She dampened her hand with the moisture and tried to clean the blood off. Wiped her hands on her uniform.

Her finger caught on something slightly buried in the mine’s wall. Wren dug into the dirt and extracted a small heart-shaped object on a chain- metal, at one time shiny, probably twenty-first century. The weight of it felt good in her palm. She felt along its edge and cracked it open, unsure what she would find inside. More dirt. Although she had no words for what it was, she knew it had value. She put it in her pocket.

She wove between the filthy tents. Each bore the logo of "Beltain Corp.." She dodged piles of trash and buckets placed strategically to catch the water that dripped down from above. Periodically, a search light passed over, and flooded the “town” with light. Wren unzipped the door of her tent, and ducked inside.

The only light came from a single flame floating in murky oil in the bottom half of a broken glass soda bottle. When Wren saw her daughter, Paz, her small face streaked with dirt, both lit up with joy. Wren tried not to notice that Paz’s bones were more pronounced. Was her little belly starting to bloat?

Wren removed her breathing mask and plopped down on the pile of rags that served as their bed. She leaned over to the janky air purifier, the label “Gideon” barely legible now, and breathed in deeply. Delicious. She groaned as she took off her boots.

Wren motioned to Paz and carefully presented the glass bottle of crystal-clear water. Paz softly squealed. Wren gingerly unscrewed the cap and handed the bottle to Paz. Paz chugged. Small droplets escaped from her mouth. Wren motioned to Paz, her gesture angry. Paz, face full of shame, mouthed, “Sorry,” and drank again, slower. Wren took the opportunity of the spilt water and wiped Paz’s face.

After Paz finished, Wren took the bottle and placed it next to the air purifier. The bottle stood next to six other identical bottles, proud like trophies. Wren reached into her pocket, drew out A Beltain-issued nutritional bar and broke it in half. Her day’s wages. Dinner was served. After a few bites, Wren patted her stomach as though full, and handed the rest of her square to Paz, who devoured it greedily.

Paz crawled onto her mother’s lap. Whispered, “please?”

Wren reached under their bed. She drew out a weathered children’s book. Wren opened it and the ritual began.

Wren pointed at the first page. Lush forests. Paz whispered, “Trees.” On the next page, a vibrant meadow. Paz guessed, “Flowers?”

Wren shook her head, “No, that is grass. See, these in the grass are flowers.” Paz carefully repeated her mother’s words and touched the picture’s petals.

A turn of the page. The sun rose above green rolling hills. Paz gasped. “The sun! It’s so beautiful. Why didn’t they tell us?”

Wren smiled wistfully at her daughter. Paz inquired, “Can we have it, too? Just a little?” Wren kissed Paz’s forehead and closed the book. A heaviness settled onto her face.

“I have to go away for a few days, but when I come back we can have all of the food and water we want. And sunlight. Together.” Paz didn’t know what to think. It was too much.

Wren continued. “Listen. While I’m gone, don’t leave our home, ever. If you hear someone coming, hide, like this.” Wren piled their rag bed on top of her and remained still. Transformed into just a mound of worn cloth. “Understand?” But Paz just stared at her mother. Her eyes became wet with tears. Wren pointed to a jug of dirty water next to the bed. “Drink this until I come back, okay? And then we can eat.”

Paz clung to her while Wren asked, “Can you be strong for me?”

“Don’t go. I don’t want sun anymore.”

Wren took Paz’s face in her hands and looked into her eyes. “It’s only for a few days. I promise.”

Wren stepped out of the tent. The search light passed over and flashed for just a moment. She gathered her strength and bolstered herself against what was about to happen.

She muttered, “I’m ready.” And the men of Beltain appeared. And colors whirled around her.

She choked as she tried to breathe. Choked on water, up her nostrils. Desperate for air, she struggled to find which direction was up. She thrashed. Her body rose and she broke the surface. Air. Delicious. She kicked over to the side of the pool- another unknown word. Wren held onto the edge for dear life. She hoisted herself up and onto the hot concrete. She lay on her back and looked up. Her eyes went wide.

She had never seen the sky before. The sun shone brightly over the desert. She shut her eyes to lessen the pain, then softly squinted. The vastness. Utter amazement. She reached her hand out as though she could touch it. As though she could touch its beauty.

She smiled, then laughed weakly, which forced her to cough up water. She rolled over into a fetal position. Coughed some more.

Wren felt her back to make sure the pack was still secured to her body. Inside the pack she found a small gun, a nutritional bar and the vial of serum. Unsure of what to do next, Wren crawled over to the house.

Not too far off, she heard singing. And Wren hummed along. She knew the tune. It was the tune of the mines.

Wren took out the gun, cocked it.

She made her way over to the garage, drawn to the sound of the song. She peered through the crack of the door and saw a woman, dark skin and a kind face, programming a large machine. Wren immediately recognized the machine. She had known it her entire life. Its air filtration systems provided the only breathable air down in the mines. It was the Gideon Machine.

The woman sensed Wren’s presence and looked up. Wren hid the gun behind her back.

“May I help you?” Gideon asked.

Wren knew before she spoke, but she asked anyway. “Are you Gideon?”

“Yes,” she answered, “Are you Fran from Silicon Valley, from Sequoia? I thought we scheduled our meeting for Thursday.”

Wren’s eyes landed a dusty poster hanging on the wall. A forest scene, similar to the one in Paz’s book, and a quote from Mary Oliver: We are at risk together, or we are on our way to a sustainable world together. We are each other's destiny.

Gideon asked again, “Are you Fran?”

Wren snapped to attention. “Your machine, what does it do?”

Gideon replied, “Well, as I stated in my initial inquiry, it’s an adapten. A machine that’s able to be placed in just about any unfavorable environment and produce the perfect air composition for humans.”

Wren nodded. Gideon continued with her speech. She touched the machine. “I intend to start work on a water system next. The way I see it, if things keep going as they are, we’ll all be living underground before you know it.”

The machine clicked three times and then hummed the tune again. Wren hummed along. Gideon looked at her as though she saw through her. Wren stopped humming and returned the gaze.

An understanding passed over Wren’s eyes. She grimaced.

“I know you. In a way. My entire life, is because of you. You kept me alive. All of us, alive. And the one I love is alive because of you. Beltain controls almost everything and now he wants this, too.”

Wren felt Gideon’s eyes heavy on her and she averted her gaze. She looked out, through the window. She gasped.

The sun had begun its descent over the desert. Rainbow sherbet sky. Vivid rose. Vibrant peach. Baby blue. In spite of herself, Wren felt tears in her eyes. She murmured, “It’s so beautiful. Why didn’t they tell us?”

“If you’re not Fran, who are you?” Gideon demanded.

Wren caught a glimpse of the heart-shaped locket, identical to the one she left Paz, around Gideon’s neck.