This is the tenth installment of my NaNoWriMo challenge: My Sister's Keeper, chapter thirteen. With this chapter I have uploaded a total of approx 16,500 words. Total written to date is 21,500 words.
Chapters One and Two (Part One)
Chapters Three and Four (Part Two)
Chapters Five and Six (Part Three)
Chapter Seven (Part Four)
Chapter Eight (Part Five)
Chapter Nine (Part Six)
Chapter Ten (Part Seven)
Chapter Eleven (Part Eight)
Chapter Twelve (Part Nine)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Captain Morgan sir. How are you sir?”
“I'm fine James. Just call me Richard. No need for all this sir stuff.”
“But protocol sir, shouldn't I at least call you captain?”
“Fuck protocol James, this is not the British Empire. This is the twenty first century. Have you seen the state of the world lately? The world is going to hell in an hand basket and your worried about protocol? Protocol is for sissies sitting behind their desks barking orders at people like you and me – the ones who have to go and fulfil those orders. It doesn't have any bearing on reality because it wasn't bred in reality – it's the product of some stuffy upper class elitist minority who wish to exert their supposed superiority on us. Don't fall for it. Don't play that silly game. Understood?” Richard could go off on a rant when he wanted to, but mostly he just loved to stir up the new recruits. Fresh from the Academy he knew they had been drilled on how to communicate to people such as himself. And they hadn't seen any action; they knew little of the reality of war. The reality will quickly change their perspective. Then they will do away with all this yes sir no sir bullshit, he thought. In the meantime I will assist them in reaching that understanding.
“So what would you prefer for me to call you?” James tentatively enquired.
“I told you – Richard. You're not going to make me repeat myself now, are you?”
“No, I mean I'll try not to.”
“And if Richard doesn't suit you, then Captain is fine. Are we clear?”
“Yes we are, Captain.” James' Presbyterian background didn't agree with referring to seniors on a first name basis. I know this is the twenty first century, he thought, but even my father demanded he be called sir. It's been drilled into me, it's my nature. How can I fight my nature? How can I fight who I am?
“Captain it is then, hey?” Richard said to him. “Now that we have that business taken care of, what's today's agenda?” They were currently stationed at the European Space Centre, preparing their L-class Shuttle for the next flight to Mars. The process was a long and laborious one. It seemed to take as long to prepare the flight, to oversee the logistics, and double check that all had been done correctly, than it took to actually fly to Mars. That is, since the new EM Drive Space Shuttles had been built. Ten weeks to Mars – it was once unheard of. Not like the first settlers to Mars. They took well over six months, with the possibility of returning being very minuscule. But it's all paid off for them now. Those early settlers are the elites of Mars – the first mover advantage, as it's called. Richard had considered an early move to Mars, but like so many others he never acted on it. But he felt he had the best of both worlds , literally – he got to fly between both worlds, never having to stay for too long on either. And if he needed a change, he was welcome on either planet. Space suits me better, he told himself. If I had have been born a few generations later, I probably would have been a deep space pilot, a navigator of the stars; hunting rogues, chasing bounties. But I was born here and now, before all the really good stuff has started, and just in time to watch humanity blow itself to kingdom come.
“We're still waiting for the eastern camps to finalise their lists of children for the flight. I will need to chase them up over that in a day or two. All the other spots are allocated – probably sold out months ago.” James told him. The flights were too few now to handle the volume of people wanting to flee Earth. Those who could afford to snapped up every available room on board instantly. There would never be a sufficient allocation of space aboard these shuttles. And that seemed to suit the politicians on Mars – it gave them a bargaining chip for when the demands start to come rushing in from an exhausted and desperate Earth population. And Mars was lead by one of the most cunning politicians – Esha Harris; but as far as James had noticed, everyone referred to her as Esha. More of this twenty first century messing with my upbringing, he jokingly reminded himself. Half of me is trying to move forward and join everyone else, whilst the other half is trying desperately to cling onto the past. And I'm not sure why, he thought – the past is dead. It's gone. We seem to have a need to cling to our traditions, to fight for our beliefs and ways. That would explain the state of planet Earth, I guess.
“How many children have they allocated for the flight?” Richard asked.
“We have three hundred on this list. Is that a lot, compared to usual?”
“Sure, it's a few, but it's never enough. Have you seen those refugee camps? The oldest ones out east hold well over a million in them. God knows how many children.”
“Aren't there more camps popping up all the time?” James asked.
“Now that the war is spreading. If it's not contained soon, we'll all be refugees, wanting to move to Mars.” Richard looked at James, fresh out of the Academy he thought – bright enough kid, but his hands are not dirty, he hasn't faced the harshness of reality. That is the only way he'll lose that robotic stare of his, and his yes sir any thing you say mentality. We're fighting for survival here, this planet needs leaders, not followers, not order-takers. He nodded to himself as he thought – I'll make him a leader, by the time I am finished with him. “This will be your first flight to Mars, right?” Richards asked James, although he already knew the answer.
“Yes, first full space flight since graduating.” James replied.
“Well you're in for a surprise when you see Mars. You'll be seeing the future. You'll be seeing humankind’s destiny before your very own eyes. They are light years in front of us down here – necessity will do that to you, drive you past your limits. We have become far too complacent here on Earth, we've taken our luxuries and comforts for granted. Laziness crept in. Evolution has turned to devolution. And Mars has stolen our thunder. You study that place, how it functions, you'll learn a thing or two.” Richard wasn't completely sold on all aspects of Mars culture, but they're turning a dead planet into a living planet, and that alone deserves credit. And he knew James would learn far more from just being their in the presence of that new and vibrant energy than he could ever learn from that stuffy Academy. I'll make a real space man out of him yet, Richard told himself. Someone worthy of joining me in ferrying these lost children to the future. A future that needs them.
This fiction is my own work, written for Steemit
Image Credit: Unsplash.com
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