Apophis (30 page)

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She sat at the lunch counter, pale hands surrounding a coffee mug.  While others seated at the 24-hour diner where we’d eaten the previous night were bent and hunched over their early morning meals, she sat with her back erect.  Her strawberry blonde hair was short, but just long enough that she could pull it back into a tiny ponytail.  A jumble of bobby pins kept the shorter chunks clamped close to her skull.  Despite her best efforts, a few pieces near the nape of her neck had defiantly sprung free. 

I found myself staring at the way the wispy strands curled to hover just over the back of her neck.  She’d haphazardly chopped it off in a fit of desperation and I privately hoped she’d let it grow back.  She still looked like perfection, even without the long cascading curls.  But I couldn’t help but mourn the loss of being able to wrap my fingers around her long hair when we kissed. 
If
we ever kissed again, that is.

She turned her head slightly when the man seated beside her struck up a conversation.  He was an oversized man with a grizzled beard.  Ugh. Another beard.  Maybe that was Nora’s type.  He vaguely reminded me of a bear.  She smiled, beaming really, as they made conversation.  About what, I couldn’t tell; I was too far away and the clinking of ceramic dishes and morning conversation drowned out their individual voices.

She tugged at the neck of her grey cardigan.  That morning she’d surprised me by producing an entire outfit I hadn’t realized she had. The thin top was impractical for a cross-country trek, but I couldn’t deny how good her arms looked wrapped in the heather grey material, thin with a hint of toned muscle.

“You ready to head back?” I grunted.

Nora smiled placidly.  “Almost.”  She turned back to talk to her new friend.

I cleared my throat, loudly.  “We really should get going, Nora.”

She turned her head to appraise me and arched her eyebrow.  “Right this second?”

I nodded.

She sighed, a big dramatic thing.  “Oh, alright.”  She hopped down from the spinning stool and straightened the neckline on her dress.  That she had packed such an impractical thing in the middle of an apocalypse should have surprised me.  But I knew her too well by now to be surprised by her dedication to appearances.

We walked, side-by-side, arms swinging, in the direction of our shared apartment.

“What’s the big hurry?” she asked me.  Her ballet flats skipped to keep up with my longer, faster strides.

“We have orientation in half an hour
. 
I don’t want to be late.”

Her front teeth tugged at her lower lip.  “You weren’t jealous that I was talking to that guy at breakfast, were you?”

“Me? Jealous?” I squeaked.  “You really think too highly of yourself.”

She grabbed for me, immediately intertwining our fingers and brought our enjoined hand up to her mouth.  Her breath was warm against my knuckles.  “Not even the tiniest bit jealous, Sammy?”

I’d always hated that nickname – it made me sound too young – but somehow, when it came from such a perfect mouth, it didn’t make me so angry.  I sighed, resigned to the fact that this woman had me wrapped around her annoying little finger. 

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Promptly at 9am, Cynthia was at our apartment door.  Not only was she in charge of greeting new additions to New Genesis, she was also in charge of orientation.  When she wasn’t busy with those tasks, she worked at the library.  Our orientation included riding the extensive monorail system from one section of New Genesis to the next.   She showed us the highlights of the underground city – it was more like a pointing tour from the monorail, but it did the job.

“You’ll have to forgive me,” she apologized after about an hour of riding the subway. “My legs aren’t what they used to be.  I’m in the queue for hip surgery in a few weeks, and then I’ll be able to move around better, maybe shed some of these extra pounds.”  She laughed good-naturally and slapped at her thighs for emphasis.

“What did you do before the Frost?” I asked.

“I was retired, but before that I taught preschool.”

“I don’t suppose anyone gets to retire down here,” Nora posited. “Everyone’s got to earn their keep?” she echoed the word’s of the rude woman from above ground.

“Well, it’s not like I could afford to not work above ground either,” Cynthia noted as she tottered over to the next monorail platform. “And this certainly beats being a greeter at Walmart.  Speaking of which,
one more stop on our tour,” she announced. “Time to get you two gainfully employed.”

“How exactly does that work?” Nora asked. “Does everyone get paid the same or are there jobs that pay better?”

“Everyone gets paid an equal living stipend in lieu of an hourly wage or salary. We’re certainly not a socialist or communist society because you have consumer options,” she was quick to assert, “but if you go to your job and do your best and don’t miss shifts, everyone gets paid the same.”

“Why was that decision made?” Nora questioned. “It seems like a radical change from the way things used to be.”

Cynthia nodded in agreement. “It was the only way we could convince people to do work they may have deemed beneath them. Not everyone can be a doctor or a lawyer down here. We need people to empty garbage cans and stock the shelves at the grocery store.”

The monorail came to a stop at the Jefferson platform.  The three of us exited on Cynthia’s instruction.

“If you two don’t mind, this is where we part,” she said. “I’ve got to get back to the library.”

“Yeah, we can find our way back. Thank you, Cynthia.” Nora said, taking the woman’s hand in hers.  “It was a very thorough tour.”

Her face lit up with a smile. “If you have other questions, don’t hesitate to give me a call or drop by the library.”

“Actually, I do have one more question, Cynthia,” Nora announced. “
Are we allowed to leave?”

“What do you mean?”

“If we decide that this place isn’t for us,” Nora clarified, “are we allowed to leave?”

Cynthia blinked a few times behind her owlish glasses. “Of course.  But why would you want to?”

“I have one more question, too,” I blurted out. “Is there a master list somewhere of who’s down here? Like a phone book or something?” I had no intention of telling her I was looking for my father; my pretend father, Jerry West, was dead. But if anyone had the answer to my question I figured it would be the woman put in charge of orientation.

Cynthia looked momentarily thoughtful. “That's a good question. We get newcomers every few weeks, so there’s nothing physically printed. It would be obsolete almost as soon as the ink dried. Once people are assigned to an apartment, their address and phone number are recorded digitally,” she told us. “There's a search feature on your TV for that.”

After a few more thank you’s and reassurances that we’d stop by the library to say hi sometime, we shook hands and parted ways.

“Ready to get a job?” I asked Nora.

She stared at the closed door that read “Human Resources.” “I feel unprepared for a job interview. I don’t have a resume and I’m hardly in professional clothing.”

“Relax,” I said, taking her hand. “You look amazing. I’m sure you’re gonna get a great job.”

Her eyelashes fluttered.  “I look amazing, huh?”

“Nothing gets past you,” I grumbled.

She gave my hand a squeeze before releasing it.  I don’t know what had possessed me to hold her hand in the first place, but it had felt right.

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“You’ve got to be kidding me," Nora drawled. “
You're
in charge of HR?”

The woman from above ground who’d been so rude before stood up from behind a desk. “Yes.  Me.  Is there a problem?”

“No,” I quickly jumped in.  “It’s just unexpected, that’s all.  I don’t think either of us was expecting to see you again so soon.” I tried to soften the brashness of Nora’s tone.  She’d been so polite and friendly up until now.

“Everyone pulls their weight in West Genesis,” the woman explained, “even me.  Please, have a seat.” She motioned to the two chairs near us. “I know we’ve met before, informally, but let me introduce myself.  My name is Lisa Winters.
 And you are?”

“Nora and Samantha West,” Nora stated robotically.

The woman pressed her lips together. “Yes. That’s what you said above ground.  How about the truth now?”

Nora visibly tensed beside me. “What?”

“Who are you really?” Lisa inquired. “The records we have on Jerry West indicate he had one daughter, not two.”

My stomach tightened. “My name is Samantha Poulsen. She’s Nora West.”  I swallowed.  “Are you going to kick me out?”

“I’m not going to kick you out, Miss Poulsen. I just wanted the truth.  So thank you for being forthright.”

“Well since there’s no more secrets,” I said. “I was wondering if you could help me with something. Did a man named Brandon Poulsen come to the above ground entrance?  It would probably have been around the time Nora and I got here – maybe a day or two before.”

“Poulsen,” Lisa repeated. “He’s related to you?”

“He’s my dad,” I confirmed.

“No one by that name showed up during my shifts,” Lisa said.  Her voice almost sounded apologetic.  It was the first human emotion she’d shown us. “I'm obviously not there around the clock though.  I’ll check with the others.”

“He might have used another name,” Nora noted. “Maybe my dad’s name, or at least he might have mentioned my dad’s name.”

“I’ll check and let you know,” Lisa said with a curt nod.  “In the meantime, let’s set you up with some jobs.” She eyeballed the two of us. “If you’re serious about staying, that is.”

“We’re serious,” I confirmed.

Lisa spun a pen between her fingers. “Any special skills or training I should know about before I give you your jobs?”

“We’re
assigned
to jobs?” Nora spoke up.  “Isn’t there a list of greatest needs and then we can apply to the ones we’re most interested in?”

Lisa stopped spinning her pen. “No. It doesn’t work that way. I know our areas of greatest need and as head of HR, I position you where I find it most appropriate. So, special skills or training?” she asked again.

I had no idea what to say. I had no special skills, no advanced training. “Uh...”

“Sam is an expert at survival skills,” Nora supplied for me. “She can live off the land with barely any survival gear. I know I never would have made it this far without her help.”

I looked over fondly at Nora.  She had her intense gaze leveled on Lisa, but I gave her an appreciative smile regardless.

Lisa wrote down a few notes without comment. “And you, Miss West?  Is there anything you’re particularly skilled at?”

I cleared my throat, nearly choking because I half expected Nora to make a thinly veiled sexual comment.  Instead, she maintained her professional composure.  “I graduated from Smith College,
summa cum laude
, with a degree in environmental sustainability with a minor in food systems.”

Lisa made a humming noise as she wrote on her legal pad.  She set her pen down and finally looked up to address us again. “I’ll let you know.”

“What do we do now?” I asked.

Lisa shrugged. “Now you do whatever you’d like until you get your job assignment and schedule.”

“And how long will that take?” Nora questioned.

“Not long. I’ll send a message to your apartment before the end of the work day today.”

It was clear she was through with us, so I tugged on Nora’s hand before she said something to get us in trouble.  She’d recovered from the initial shock of seeing a familiar face, but I didn’t want to press our luck in case she shed her polite veneer again.

“Oh and girls,” Lisa called after us before we had left the office, “it’s up to you if you want to keep telling people you’re sisters – it doesn’t matter to me either way – but if you do, you may want to refrain from making out in public.”

I thought about Lisa’s parting advice as we our way back to the apartment.  Nora and I hadn’t kissed in public.  We hadn’t done
anything
except for maybe an innocent touch here and there and a hand squeeze once in a while. 

“Do you think there’s surveillance cameras in our apartment?” I asked as we rode the monorail back to our new home.

“I doubt it. It would be a waste of energy,” Nora reasoned.”

“Then why did Lisa say that about us?”

Nora shrugged. “She probably just saw you getting all jealous this morning when I was talking to that guy at breakfast.”

I snorted. “Whatever.”

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I turned on the television while I waited for Nora to emerge from her shower.  It was her second one of the day.  I hadn’t commented on it, but she told me she was having a hard time feeling completely clean. Watching reruns wouldn’t keep my mind from drifting to thoughts of her wet and naked with just a door dividing us, but it was better than nothing.