Enduring Aella

Episode Five | Two Beeps and a Lie

The hours after Adam left dragged by with maddening slowness. One by one, the room emptied as names were called, and the frantic scramble for seats finally faded. People stretched out across entire rows, resting their heads on folded arms. They slipped into tentative sleep, still listening for their numbers to be called.

I drifted off too, chin propped in my hand, arm braced on the armrest. I dreamt I was a bird, soaring over impossibly blue rivers and white-stone mountains. I felt weightless and free, a relentless joy spreading from my lungs to the very tips of my wings. It was peace. It was wonder.

It was Brenda's elbow jabbing me in the side. "That's your face up there."

I snorted myself awake in a panic, grabbed my things, and stumbled toward the door. Coming to my senses, I stopped and mouthed a quick thank you to Brenda. She just nodded and returned to her magazine.

As I passed the old man, I slipped him the note. He gave me a sad smile and tucked it into his pocket, but I could tell his thoughts were light years away. He was already grieving, mourning the loss of his granddaughter before her feet had even left the ground.

I hope he read my note.

The waiting receptionist ushered me through the door with a radiant smile. "Right this way, the doctor is waiting to see you."

"A doctor? I've already done my physical. I sent the results with my application."

"It's just a routine blood test. Won't take but a minute."

"What are they testing for?"

"Oh, you know, vitamin levels, pathogens, the usual. Have to be careful what makes it to the new planet."

She led the way down the hall, her hair swishing back and forth in time with her steps. As we rounded the corner, she stopped short, glanced around, and grabbed my arm. "Please don't do this."

I folded my arms across my chest and took a steadying breath. I'd been here before and could feel the familiar rage rise within me. "Do what?"

"Leave. Abandon us. We need you."

"Look, I understand what you are going through, really, but there is nothing I can do. I've said it a million times since my mother died, and I'll say it again. I can't help you."

"But you are Elina's daughter. Her only child. If you won't carry on her legacy, who will?"

"My mother's legacy is just that—hers. If it were up to me, we would have stayed at home, a normal kid with a normal mom. It wasn't my idea to travel the world for your cause. But no one asked me what I wanted then, and I'm not concerned with what you want now."

Her face twisted into a scowl, an expression that looked alien, almost frightening, on her cheerfully molded face. She was a reception model. She was made to smile. "You're nothing like her."

"Finally! You get it. I'm glad we are on the same page. Can you take me to the doctor now?"

"Right this way, coward."

I let the word swirl around in my chest, surprised to find it hurt much less than the first time. "You know, there's a woman in the parking lot you should meet. You guys have a lot in common. She's the one screaming with wet paint dripping down her forehead."

The receptionist stormed down the hall. When she reached the door to the doctor's office, she straightened her shirt and smoothed her hair. With a smile that had to be false, but looked genuinely sweet, she pushed open the door and welcomed me inside.

He sat hunched in a backless rolling chair, his disheveled hair and red-rimmed eyes out of place in the sterile white room.

"Shut the door behind you," he grumbled as the synth slipped out into the hall. He pointed to the chair beside him. I took a seat and pulled my sleeve above my elbow.

He was silent, gruff, but efficient. A quick swipe of the alcohol pad, a slight pinch of the needle, and before he made eye contact, my blood was pooling into small, color-coded tubes.

"Long day?"

He grunted and shrugged, popping the needle out of my arm and slapping on a Band-Aid covered in cartoon cats.

Swiveling in his chair, he held a tube of my blood up to the light. He swished it slowly back and forth and a chill ran down my spine. He placed it into a machine that began to swirl and spin.

Eyeing my naked wrist, he placed a recording device, similar to the one the receptionist had used, on the table beside him and spoke into it. "Activate recording." When nothing happened, he gave it a smack and tried again, "Activate recording you blasted thing."

I saw no change, but he sat back in his seat, satisfied. He gave me a once-over, and spoke into the box, "Hanah Gregory, vitals on file, healthy, below average height, slightly above average weight."

I raised an eyebrow. "Rude."

His eyes flicked over me again. "Accurate. I see you've removed your NetBand. I need to replace it to complete the next step. Do I have your permission to do so?"

I nodded. He pulled a Netband from the drawer beside him, and slid the cold metal bracelet onto my wrist, locking it into place with a quiet click.

"I'm going to ask you a series of questions—answer as directly as possible. You are required to answer each question truthfully. Any willful dishonesty will be detected, and failure to comply may result in disqualification. Ready?"

"I suppose, I—"

"Why are you leaving Earth?"

I straightened, forcing my voice steady. "For a fresh start."

The band beeped twice—sharp and accusing. A lie. I swallowed hard. "I want to make a better life for myself."

The band beeped again. Another lie. His gaze drilled into me. "Try again."

I fumbled for words, but they wouldn't come. His eyes narrowed, silent and waiting. My breath hitched, chest tightening. My ticket to Aella was slipping away. The pressure built until the words tumbled out. "To escape."

A single long beep. The truth. Relief washed over me.

He tilted his head. "From who?"

The answer came to me in fragments. "The synthetics? Their expectations? My mother?"

Another long beep.

He slumped back in his chair and chewed his bottom lip, weighing my answer. "And what can you offer a new world?"

My mouth opened, but no words came. What could I offer? "I—" I hesitated, searching for something, anything that felt like an answer. "I don't know."

He exhaled wearily, rubbing a hand over his forehead. "What did you do for a living?"

"I was an assistant."

"What did you assist with?"

I waved a hand, grasping at vague ideas. "You know, things."

Just then, the blood-spinning machine stopped and data began populating on the screen. The doctor deactivated the recording device and and ran a finger down a column of numbers.

"There's a set of doors the end of the hall," he said absently. "Go there and push the button on the wall. And tell the 'droid to send the next one in."

Not wanting to press my luck, I pulled my sleeve down and hurried out.

The receptionist stood outside, calm and pleasant, as though our earlier exchange had never happened.

"The doctor is ready for the next person."

She nodded and, without a word, headed back the way she came.

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Thank you for reading Enduring Aella by Evalyn Biddy.

Please note that this version is an early draft and may contain errors or inconsistencies. Revisions will occur, and changes are likely before the final publication. All names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents in this book are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.