Chapter 7:
Clara smiled as Lois came into her chamber, proudly bearing a costume on her outstretched arms. Lois said, “Mother made this special for you. She said it seems a shame you have to wear such plain clothes while everyone else gets such pretty stuff, and besides, she had a lot of fabric scraps left over, and they would just go to waste if she didn’t do something with them.”
Clara took a look at the shimmering, multi-hued dress hanging from Lois thin arms. Lois was so sweet and simple. And so obviously pleased by the gift. She took the dress, saying, “Oh, how pretty.”
She held it up. It was pretty but it had been made to cling and shape and hold. Lois clapped her hands. “You like it?”
“I do.” She did. “I’ll wear it to the tables tomorrow.”
Lois said, “I’ll tell Mother.” She paused. Her eyes blinked a few times. Then she sighed. “Mother says we owe you a debt.”
“No, you don’t. Not really.” Clara smiled at the plain young woman and draped the dress over the chair.
Lois asked, “Is it a hunger debt?”
“No. It’s not a debt. You just have to work for Renall for a little while, just like you worked back home. That’s all.”
Lois’ teeth gnawed at her lips. “Will we get to go home?”
No. You can never go home again.Clara knew that Dana and her other daughter were all too aware of that fact. They were likely shielding Lois from the truth though. “Sure you will.”
Lois ducked her head. “I like it here better.”
Clara tilted her head to one side. “You do?”
“It’s so bright and pretty. I never saw so many colors. Mother never did either. She’s happy in the sewing room now. She gets to make things that are pretty.”
The government had long since forbidden bright colors and anything but the regulation one-piece suits they all wore back home; even the people of Old Toronto were not immune from that edict. To do otherwise would be to call attention to themselves, and for people in her profession back there, that was the last thing that was wanted or needed.
The dress drew her eyes again. A smile came upon her lips and her spirits lifted. Since she had been on Orbitary, she had worn plain brown or olive suits, one-piece and familiar in feel. Maybe that was part of the problem.
I can’t go back,she thought,I might as well go forward.
Lois added, “I like the people here too. They don’t say I should go to the sleep facility. No matter how hard I worked before, people always said I would work harder if I was not simple and…” She blinked a few more times. Her shoulders dropped. She rubbed a finger across the palm of one of her hands, her forehead wrinkled in thought. “I like it here.”
Touched by that, Clara said, “I don’t think you have to go if you don’t want to.”
Lois’ lips turned downward. “Mother says she likes the colors here, but she misses Father. I don’t know why. He was never kind to her or us. And he sold us for a debt. A hunger debt.”
Empathy ate at Clara. She took a deep breath. “I know. It isn’t fair.”
Lois burst out. “We didn’t eat it! The foods he got us into hunger debt for. He said him and my brothers needed it more because they work the fields and the generators. But we were hungry too. I’m not hungry at all anymore, and I don’t want to be somewhere that I might get sold again because someone else does.”
Clara opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Lois might have been simple, but that clearly did not stop her from feeling the brunt of the unfair burdens that women back home felt and carried.
Lois said. “I have to go. I get to order dinner tonight. Mother said it was my turn.”
Lois turned toward the door and stopped. Tears glistened in her eyes. She blurted out, “I like to order dinner, and not wait for Father and the others to finish before I get to have dinner.”
Then she fled.
A lump filled Clara’s throat. She looked down at the dress and then shook her head. She was tired, and her bed was practically begging her to get into it. She stripped quickly and headed into the narrow cubicle that was the ionizer. A wave of heated and scented air blew over her. Little scrubbers met her skin. A slim trickle of water appeared over her head. It landed in fine droplets on her body, then the cloths, soft and gentle, came in.
She stepped out of the ionizer, her skin glowing and slightly sore. Back home she would wash in whatever water she could find. Here, every resource was jealously guarded so as to ensure there would be plenty for centuries to come. In a way, she admired that, but in another way, Orbitary felt just as much of a trap as home.
Clara was still thinking those thoughts as she stepped down the stairs the next noon. She paused at the carved doors that would lead her into the hall, nerves getting the better of her.
The dress cupped her body like a well-made glove, shimmering and sparkling. Her breasts were pushed up and out and her already small waist looked smaller still. The long curve of her legs and the slenderness of her arms, bared by the lack of sleeves, were all on display. She’d brushed her hair until it snapped and sparked, and then she’d applied just a dab of the scented air that came from the dispenser on the wall in increments designed to give off just a hint of aroma.
