Peace Out (The Futures Trilogy Book 1) (9 page)

“Not tonight,” Joe said. “I’m tired.”

“I
’m sorry,” she said. “And here I am talking your ear off. How was your day?” she asked, getting into bed beside him.

“Fine,” he said. “I went to the doctor and got refills, then I spent the rest of the day in here. I ordered room service and slept a lot. It was lonely, but I survived.”

“I would have stayed with you,” Olivia said.

“You wanted to go,” Joe said. “I just helped you make the decision.”

“You encouraged me to go,” she said defensively. “I went because you wanted me to go.”

“You
’ve been talking about the safari for days,” he said. “Then I get sick and suddenly you don’t want to go anymore? Come on. If you had stayed, you would have sulked about it.”

“That is not true,” she said. “I wanted to be with you.”

“Yeah, right,” he said.

“So now you
’re mad at me for going? That isn’t fair, Joe.”

“I
’m dying, Olivia. That isn’t fair.”

“Why are we fighting?” she asked. “What are we fighting about?”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Let’s go to sleep.”

“I love you,” Olivia said.

“I love you too.”

Joe fell back asleep rather quickly, but Olivia was too wired. She kept still and stared at the ceiling, thinking about her first major outing by herself in over forty years.

ANNA AND SCOTT

“Our courts have long recognized a constitutional right to privacy. This, combined with human dignity, affords the right of a competent individual to choose to end his or her life.” Peace Out v. United States, 1232 U.S. 262 (2026).

“There are five conference rooms down the hall, ten seats in each. The
review tablets are cued up.” Nina Jenkins addressed the interns from a podium in the auditorium. “We just finished riffing all the paper documents from the first twenty years or so of Peace Out LA, but you know how bad handwriting can be. Many pages have something that riff has identified as illegible text. That is where you all come in. You’ll go through each of these flagged documents and enter the text as best as you can translate it. Sometimes it isn’t text. In those cases, you tap the box and tag it ‘null.’ Just like this.” Nina demonstrated on the large screen. “Any questions?”

There were none.

“You will spend at least four hours a day working on this project. Today you’ll all work together. After this, you will work out the timing with your mentors and their schedules. We’ll keep two conference rooms dedicated to the project. The review tablets must remain in the conference rooms.”

Anna sighed. “Can
’t they farm this out to Greece?” she whispered to Scott.

“They cost as much as we do,” Scott said. “Besides, this is part of intern bonding. To forge ahead through crappy, mind-numbing work. It
’s better than what we were doing before.”

“True. Manual labor never appealed to me.”

The interns filed dutifully down the hall, a sea of blue coats. Anna and Scott went into the first room. Dom was already seated and waved them over.

Scott sat down next to him, Anna taking the seat next to Scott.

“Tell me you’ve written an amazing program that will do this work for us,” Anna said.

“I wish,” Dom said. “I
’ve already been through five documents. The handwriting is awful. I’ve nulled out a doodle of a happy face with fangs and a psychedelic swirly maze. I’ve also helped clear up some confusion over a grocery list someone made during Facilitation. Peace Out now knows that in 2038 Dr. Steiner needed eggs, milk, bread, and chocolate pudding.”

“Awesome,” Scott said. He pulled up a document on his tablet and squinted at the flagged section. “Is that a food stain? I can
’t even tell what that letter is!”

Anna looked over. “I think that says reconciliation. It fits in the context of the sentence and the first
four letters are definitely ‘reco.’”

Scott keyed it into the system. “And now we know that in 2034, Mabel Tanner was seeking reconciliation with her son before Peacing Out.”

The conference room was full. After a week of social events, all the interns knew each other. They had each gotten a booklet with each other’s photos and basic information. They had also divided into a few cliques. Anna and Scott weren’t the only couple, just the first. Dom had hooked up with a girl named Marissa. She worked in POP and was sitting across from Dom. Anna really liked Marissa and Scott decided Dom wasn’t so bad once you got him on a subject other than crystal computing. They had gone on a few double dates.

Anna felt Scott
’s hand on her thigh.

“Oversight,” she whispered.

He removed his hand. There was no policy against interns dating, but she wasn’t going to get in trouble for unprofessional behavior at the workplace. At least, unprofessional behavior that could be caught. Anna dropped her voice even lower and tried not to move her lips. “By the way,” she whispered. “I’m not wearing panties today.”

Scott
’s eyes widened and he looked down at her pinstriped pencil skirt. Anna crossed her legs and smiled innocently.

They worked in silence for thirty minutes. Then Ty the red-haired engineering intern asked if it would be OK if he played some music. Everyone engaged in a healthy argument over what kind of music to play. Dom was pushing for trip hop, but Marissa wanted something purely instrumental. She claimed that anything with words would distract her. They settled on new ambient.

With the music on, everyone relaxed and started chatting. They compared funny doodles and helped each other decipher truly horrific examples of penmanship.

“So I think one of my ideas is getting used,” Marissa announced.

“What is it?” asked Dom. The entire Peace Out Publicity Department was located in LA. Like all the other departments, it sought the best of the best. Marissa landed her spot with a self-made commercial for Peace Out. It was already airing nationally.

“They are making a documentary commemorating 50 years of Peace Out,” she said. “I have it on good information that Alana Baxter took the Pledge. I suggested they contact her for the doc. My brother
’s friend has a friend who is one of her assistants.”

“No way,” Scott said. “A.B. took the Pledge?”

“She hasn’t Indexed it yet,” Marissa said. “Anyone breathes a word of this and I will kill you. We have to be delicate about the approach. I don’t want her assistant to get fired for violating a non-disclosure.”

“What is your favorite Alana Baxter movie?” Ty asked.

“Definitely Elementals,” Scott said.

“So highbrow,” scoffed Anna. “I like the Bond movies.”

Every boy in the room groaned. “What were they thinking?” Ty said. “Jenna Bond? Jenna?”

“Proof that sexism is alive and well, folks.” Marissa said. “Anyway, I think A.B. would be great to narrate the section on Pledge 70, maybe tell her own story if she is willing. POP is working with a big name director. Cameras have never been allowed in a Peace Out Center before. It is going to be huge. They are going to interview PO employees, terminals, families of directives. Full access.”

“Isn’t that risky?” Scott asked. “How can POP control the final product?”

“Well of course POP has to approve before the film is released.”

POPoganda, Anna thought.

“Are they going to show anyone Peacing Out?” Scott asked.

“I don’t know,” Marissa said. “What does it look like?”

“Like going to sleep,” Scott said. “They are given a combination of barbiturates and painkillers, enough to put them out. Then we put on a gas mask and turn on the helium. They wear a heart monitor so we can record time of death.”

“I think there are too many gadgets for it to be a good visual,” Marissa said. “But who knows?”

“Are they going to show the crematory?” asked Ty. “They have done some amazing things with energy reclamation and the incinerator.”

“Probably too morbid,” Marissa said.

“Peace Out is about death. It
’s all morbid,” Anna said. “You should include something about the people who try to take advantage of Peace Out. We had this guy and his wife come through two days ago. They’re on BL. They have been to a Peace Out Center every year for the past five years. They treat it like a personal vacation spot. Free hotel, free food. I can’t believe Patrick let them stay again. I guess they have this rule that if you come to Peace Out and don’t do it, then you can’t come back for a year. So that is what this couple does. It’s ridiculous. They should be banned.”

“Who knows, maybe they
’ll actually Peace Out this time,” Ty said.

“Doubt it,” Anna said. “They seem to enjoy Facilitation too. I have to sit there and listen to them blab about themselves while feigning interest. I just wonder how many other people are doing this. It
’s so wrong.”

“Hey, sorry to change the subject, but did Nina say how many of these documents we have to get through today?” Dom asked.

“I think she said we should make 60 corrections per hour,” Marissa said.

“Then I
’m way behind.”

“Me too,” Scott said. “We better get back to work.”

Ty turned the music up.

“
I almost forgot,” Anna said. “Patrick invited us over for dinner next Thursday. Do you have plans?” She was nestled in Scott’s arms, the covers kicked off the bed.

“Next Thursday?”
Scott asked. “I should be available.”

“Great,” Anna said. “I
’ll let him know.” She picked up her phone from the bedside table. “Italian?” she asked.

“Sure,” Scott said.

Anna put in an order for delivery. They got dressed and went to the kitchen. Anna sat at the breakfast bar while Scott selected a bottle of wine from the pantry and two glasses.

“You are the naughtiest good Christian girl I know,” Scott said.

“Stop with the compliments,” she replied. Anna poured two glasses of wine.

“Would your parents freak out if they knew how often I sleep here?” Scott asked.

“Absolutely. They would freak out if they knew half the things I’ve done,” Anna said. “The way I was raised, sex was the ultimate taboo. Like if I did it outside of marriage, the heavens would open and a pillar of fire would consume me.

“My youth minister gave this talk when I was in high school. He had a chart and on it were things like holding hands, hugging, kissing, French kissing, and French kissing in a reclining position. Then he drew a line under French kissing, and basically said that was as far as you should go before marriage. So I raised my hand and asked him how far he and his wife went before they got married. He was so flustered. He told me that was private and then he moved on with his talk. It was ludicrous. But I guess a youth minister can
’t really tell a teenager he was diddling his future wife in her parents’ basement.

“So then I asked my parents how far they went. After much hemming and hawing, my Dad admitted that they went to third base, but he was quick to point out that was only after they were engaged. Such restraint. They were engaged about two months after they met and married another three months after that.

“The first time I crossed the line I felt so guilty. But then I didn’t. And maybe I’ve just justified it in my head. I mean, I’m not married. I never hook up with married men. I’m also not having sex and the virgin thing is a big deal.

“
I mean, is it realistic to expect people to stay chaste until marriage? Especially because people get married so late these days? It’s not like I would take a poll, but I bet I can count on one hand the number of people at my church who were virgins when they got married. And they’ll all be over fifty.

“What I do now is
just practice. You’re part of my education, Scott. My future husband thanks you.”

Scott laughed. “I am happy to provide you with instruction at any time.”

Anna finished her glass of wine. “So that was the long story of why I prefer to keep my parents in the dark about boys generally and you in particular.”

“I get it,” Scott said.

“Your turn. Tell me something highly personal.”

“OK,” Scott said. “How about this? My mom and I were on BL for about five years when I was a kid.”

“No way!” Anna said in disbelief. “Other than that couple today, I’ve never met anyone on BL.”

“That
’s because they do a good job keeping them away from everyone else. Special housing. Special schools. Special grocery stores. You haven’t lived until you’ve had a BL Breakfast Pack.”

“What
’s that?”

“Plastic tray. Algae substitute sausage, egg, cheese, and biscuit.”

“Sounds disgusting.”

“But nutritious. We went in every week to the grocery store for our rations. We got real milk because I was a kid. But other than that it was algae food packs for every meal.

“My mom and dad married right out of high school and had me a few months later, so she didn’t go to college and never worked. When he skipped out on us she was too proud to go to her parents for help. So we went on BL until she earned a degree and got a job.

“Most people who get off BL don
’t like to admit they were ever on it. I don’t blame that couple you talked about this morning. Life on BL is pretty bleak. A week with ocean views, real food, and time with someone who actually listens to you? Peace Out LA must be like heaven for them.”

The doorbell rang. Anna went to answer. She gave the deliveryman her thumbprint and took the cartons of food into the kitchen. Scott poured more wine while she set the table.

“How was the rest of your day?” Anna asked, opening a carton and spooning some chicken marsala onto her plate.

“I had some trouble focusing,” Scott said, grinning at her, “but it was fine. We had a batch of ten in from the government. Have you heard of Sanctuary?”

Anna shook her head.

“I
’m not surprised. They don’t get much publicity. The government runs a bunch of Sanctuaries and act as guardian for people who can’t care for themselves and have no one to care for them - the mentally ill, disabled, elderly. They’re all on BL anyway, but the government carries the extra cost of supervision and assistance. They stay in Sanctuary until spots open up in a charitable Enclave. Then they transfer. But if the Sanctuary reaches capacity and needs space, they take the people who’ve been there the longest and Peace them Out.”