Fugee Bubble

By Robert Walton

“More champagne?” Jared tilted the bottle in his bride’s direction.

“Do we have more stops programmed?”

“Only the Aspen entrance station.”

Karin held out her glass. “Then pour.”

Jared filled her flute with golden bubbly. “There.”

She sipped. “Perfect! And the mountain top was beautiful, the air was so clean!”

“There’s nothing like an alpine sunset.” 

“Oh, look!” She pointed at cliffs glowing scarlet and orange. “It’s enchanting here, too! Those cliffs are so brightly stained. Are we down to the poisonous zone yet?”

Jared glanced at the air quality meter on the console of their pod car. “No. It’s mildly toxic up here but not hazardous for brief exposures. Those toxin stains are old.”

She sipped from her glass. “Let’s stop!”

“I don’t know. That’s a utility platform coming up. It’s not on the resort’s recommended list.”

“But the view is so nice!” Karin shifted to her little girl voice. “Please.”

“All right,” Jared placed his glass on a clear, plastic side table. “But only for a few minutes.” He touched the control console. The pod slowed, bumped, and shuddered to a halt.

Karin’s eyes opened with mild alarm. “What was that?”

“I don’t know. There are a couple of dozen mag-lev runs on this side of the resort. There could be some issue with system traffic.” He studied the console screen. “Or maybe something was on the mag-lev track.”

“Great.” 

“It seems okay now. Shall we peek outside?” He stepped to the hatch and opened it. “After you.”

“If you say so.” Karin stepped onto the slightly tilted reddish rock. Her nose wrinkled. “Something smells really bad!”

Jared joined her and sniffed. “You’re right. That’s more than ozone and the odd petro-chemical.”

“It smells like rotten meat.”

Jared walked to the front of the pod. “Well, look at that!”

“What?”

“We did hit something.”

“What?”

“Some sort of pig, I think.”

Karin stepped cautiously closer. “Is it dead?”

“Very.” Jared studied the bristly, bloody mess at his feet. “I think it’s a young . . . whatever it is.”

An enraged squeal tore through the air. Karin whirled and saw a monstrous sow charging down the slope. It was black, except for where its hide was mottled with patches of yellow fungus. Two red ridges, like fins on a sailfish, ran down either side of its spine and made it seem even larger than it was. It grunted, mouth open, tusks gleaming.

“Jabali!” shouted a man’s voice from below them.  A figure dressed in black jumped from behind a boulder and screamed again, “Run!”

Karin leapt for the hatch. “Hurry, Jared!” 

Jared froze in place. The figure in black leveled a wide-mouthed pistol. When its green laser sight rested on the sow’s head, he pulled the trigger. Invisible waves of sound raced down the laser’s path. The creature staggered for an instant and then plowed forward again. Jared stood still as stone, staring wide-eyed. The sow swung its head like a wrecking ball, hooked his legs, and tossed him.

Another dark-clad figure, a woman this time, rushed past Karin and leveled a heavier weapon, one that looked something like a blunderbuss. She fired a blast of subsonic sound. The pig dropped to its knees. The woman dropped her long gun and gripped a thin-bladed knife. She seized the sow’s right ear and plunged her silver blade hilt-deep into its left ear. 

The pig exploded into a frantic lunge. Its frothy, bloody muzzle sought the woman’s heart. She vaulted over its shoulder, landed, and rolled to her feet, ready to dodge again. The pig sagged to its knees and then toppled, the ground shuddering from its weight. Its red eyes glazed over.

Karin clutched her head, ears ringing from the weapons’ back-blasts, and slowly looked up. A pair of deep brown eyes looked into hers. “Are you alright?” the woman asked.

Karin gasped, “You’re human!”

“So are you.” The woman, clad in a loose robe with a dark cowl, nodded toward the pistol-gripped weapon on the ground. “Sorry about the sonic rifle, but that jabali meant to rip you to pieces.”

Karin cleared her throat. “What did you call it?”

“A jabali – like a feral pig, but much larger.”

The other robed figure, still holding his pistol, stepped close.

Jared groaned and looked at his rescuers. “Fugees!”

“Yes.” The woman unpinned the silver broach securing her breathing mask, and lowered it, revealing a wide mouth with generous lips. “But you may call me Alma.” She indicated to the man with a gesture. “And this is Hector.”

Jared moaned again and clutched his leg. “I’m bleeding here.”

Alma studied him for a moment. “You’ll live.”

“But it hurts!”

Karin knelt. “Hold still.” She inspected the gashes in Jared’s leg and looked up. “He is bleeding a lot.

Alma frowned. “Bind him, Hector.”

Hector opened his pack, knelt and began to work on Jared’s wounds. Karin rose. “He needs an ER.” 

“Our infirmary is near.” 

Hector looked up. “We can’t take him there.”

“It will be some hours before they are missed.” Alma pursed her lips. “I fear we must.” 

Hector shook his head and turned back to Jared.

Karin looked closely at the woman. She was compact and lithe, though there were wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. “Thank you, Alma. You saved our lives.”

“You’re most welcome.”

The scarlet cliffs behind Karin began fading to umber. “How did you happen to be here when we needed you?”

“You were lucky. Our dusk patrol took us near.”

“Your patrol?”

“We keep a close watch on the mag-lev tracks in case the bubble police mount a raid.” She stepped closer to the jabali, staring long into the pig’s dull eyes, detecting no spark of life. “These are creatures of the wastelands. They do not usually climb so high.”

Karin stepped closer. “It’s horrible, so big.” She studied the raised, faintly luminous ridges on the creature’s back. “And bizarre! What are these spikey things?”

“We call them branquias. They are filters that allow the jabali to breathe poisoned air and eat toxic food down below.”

“Mutants?”

Alma’s mouth became a straight line. “Designed mutants. Bubble scientists engineered them.”

“Is it a carnivore?”

“It eats everything it finds.” Alma met Karin’s gaze. “The hope is that it will help cleanse the poisoned lands so that humans may one day return to them.” 

“But the radiation?”

“It suffers cancers.”

Karin stared at the twisted tumors bubbled across the creature’s hide and shivered. 

Hector finished wrapping Jared’s leg. “That’s the best I can do here.”

Alma nodded. “It will suffice. Shall I call for a litter?”

Hector shook his head. “I can help him to the entrance.”

“A medical team will meet you there. Go ahead. Karin and I will take rear-guard.”

“Right.”

Hector pulled Jared’s right hand over his shoulder and rose. He cried out but became silent as Hector gently took his weight. They began to shuffle toward a pile of tall boulders.

“Where are we going?” asked Karin.

“To our home.”

“But you’re . . .”

“Fugees,” finished Alma. 

Karin paused before she answered softly. “I’ve never met someone from outside the bubbles.”

“Now, you have.” Alma plucked up the sonic weapon from where Hector had placed it. “Close your pod. You’ll be returning to it.”

 Karin stepped out of the pod and sealed it. “Where to now?”

Alma surveyed the blasted mountainside. “We’ll give them a head start, shall we? In case this jabali’s mate is near?”

Karin quickly glanced around. “I hope not!”

“It’s not impossible. They are crazed creatures, but they protect their young, as you’ve seen.”

“What will we do if it attacks? Shoot it?”

“Not if we can help it.” Alma scanned the bleak hillside, sonic rifle at the ready. “My people have set defensive snares. This weapon is a last resort.”

Karin coughed. “Your home, is the air better inside?”

“It’s the best, as good as that in the resort.”

“How?”

Alma laughed. “Because it comes from Aspen High. We made tunnels into the resort’s habitat bubble.” 

“Won’t their climate engineers notice the drain on the system?”

“We were careful. The tunnels are mouse-sized, and we increased our pull very slowly. They attributed the drain to leaks from natural fissures, and now the drain has stabilized. They regard it as normal.” 

Hector, taking most of Jared’s weight and moving him carefully, disappeared among shadows cast by the boulders. 

“We can follow them now.” Alma motioned to Karin. “You, first.” 

Karin stepped away from the pod. A strong ozone smell, tinged with acid, washed over her, and her eyes began to water. “I can’t see!”

Alma reached out to her. “Take my hand.” Karin did so. “Close your eyes for a moment. The initial irritation will pass quickly.”

They walked over loose scree. Karin stumbled several times, but Alma’s hand steadied her. After a few minutes, Karin’s eyes cleared of tears and the fierce stinging became an itch. “I can see now.”

“Good. We’re nearly there.”

“I don’t see where they went.”

“You will when we get close enough.”

She paused in front of two boulders. “Here?”

Alma nodded, “Go right in.”

Karin turned sideways and slipped through a crevice between the boulders, passing an invisible pressure barrier as she did so. Her ears popped. A line of yellow LED lights glowed on the floor. She followed the lights around another corner and halted.

A pool of dark water, shimmering with small waves, lay before her. She breathed in its fresh scent, its coolness. Alma stopped beside her.

Karin glanced at her. “What is this?”

“Our defense against the flames.”

“I don’t understand.”  

“You’ve heard of the tormentas ardientes?”

“The burning storms?” Karin nodded. “Yes, from the beginning of the climate collapse, but they happened long ago.”

Alma stared at the water. “They happen still.”

Karin turned. “How is that possible?”

Alma smiled without humor. “Not all of us can be accommodated in this underground place. There are still external fugee villages, a few near here. Two months ago, one such – a bit lower on the mountain and closer to the Aspen resort bubble – burned to the ground.”

“That’s horrible! But how?”

“Aspen High’s bubble police use fire.”

“What?”

“They regard fugees as a threat to the hotel. Hydrogen is a by-product of the bubble’s atmosphere scrubbers. It fuels the torches on their attack drones. They call them dragon-bots.” She turned toward Karin. “Do you know what a fuego-nado is?”

“No.”

“It is a whirlwind of fire. The bots spew flames onto dead brush, ignite the whirlwinds and drive them into fugee villages. I saw mothers run from ‘nados with their babies on their backs. First, the babies burned like candles— and then the mothers.” 

Karin stared straight ahead. “I’ve been taught that fugees are terrorists, monsters.” 

“We are only poor.”

They walked on in silence for several moments. Karin finally shook her head, “I don’t understand any of this.”

Alma glanced at her. “What do you know about the collapse, about how the bubble cities came about?”

Karin considered her answer. “That first nuclear war started it, the one between India and somebody.”

“Pakistan. You’re right. That war triggered the radiation storms that killed billions, but it was only the final step in corporate-induced global warming. The bubbles initially protected only corporate headquarters and enclaves. They expanded slowly over decades.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Your grandparents were on the inside. We fugees were always outside.”    

They entered a long cave room with pallets on the floor to either side of a central aisle. Sick and injured people, several with burns on their hands and faces, lay on the mats. Soft sighs and moans revealed their pain.

Karin looked from side to side with mounting unease. “They were hurt in the fire attack?”

“Some of them.”

They stopped at a pallet midway down the aisle where Jared lay, sedated already. A young man with dark hair cleaned blood off his leg.

Karin stared at the ragged gashes. “Will he be okay?”

Alma shrugged. “Alejandro?”

The dark-haired young man looked up. “His wounds are deep, but no major vessels were severed. I’ll use anti-biotic ointment and bind them. He should be fine.”

“Thank you.”

Alejandro smiled. “It’s my job.”

They continued and reached the end of the aisle. A little girl reached up with her left hand and tugged on Alma’s coat. 

“What is it, Carolina?”

The little girl, her right hand and arm thickly bandaged, plucked up a ragged book with her good hand and held it out. Multi-colored unicorns bedecked its cover.

Alma smiled. “Later, dear. After supper.”

Carolina again tugged on Alma’s sleeve. “You promised!”

Alma turned to Karin. “Do you mind? She likes me to read that story to her – several times in a row, if I have the time.” 

Karin smiled. “Not at all. I like that book.”

Alma handed it to her. “Please read to her. She’ll enjoy hearing a new voice, I’m sure.”

“If you think it’s okay… .” 

“I do.”

Karin sat next to Carolina and pronounced, “The Unicorn Picnic.” 

Carolina snuggled against her. She opened the book and read, “The unicorns gathered once a year in their forest’s most beautiful glade . . .”

A short time later, after two complete readings, Alma spoke before Karin could begin again. “We must go, Carolina. What do you say to Karin?”

Carolina reached out again with her left hand, enfolded Karin’s fingers, and squeezed. “Thank you.”

Karin gently squeezed her hand in return. “It was my pleasure, dear,” She rose.

Alma and Karin walked in silence for several moments. At last, Karin asked, “Where do you get medicines?”

“We steal what we can. And . . .” Alma looked at her. “We receive aid from the city bubbles.”

Karin stopped. “Aid? From inside the bubbles?”

“You’ve discovered that fugees aren’t monsters. Others know this, too. They send things to us secretly.”

“That ointment Alejandro used on Jared,” Karin glanced at Alma. “Do you have enough of it?”

Alma shook her head. “Never. But we use it when we must. Jabali are dirty creatures. Jared’s wounds call for its use.”

“May I send some to you, at least enough to replace what you’ve used to help him?” 

Alma looked into Karin’s eyes, studying her intensely. “You truly wish to help us?”

“Yes.”

Alma remained silent, her gaze still resting heavily on Karin. At last, she reached for a leather satchel hanging from a hook on the wall to their left. “Come with me.” She walked a few paces to what looked like a closet door, opened it, and stepped inside. 

Karin followed her, ducking as she went through the low door, and found herself standing — instead of within a storage space — at the entrance of a narrow tunnel. Alma proceeded down the twisty passage. Cool, damp air pressed against their faces as they descended many steps. A blue LED light glowed down from the ceiling tenuously every ten meters or so. At last, they came to a level platform and stopped.

Alma stared into the darkness. “Now I shall reveal to you our great secret, our great hope.” She touched a pad on the wall to her left. Light bloomed.

Karin shut her eyes against the sudden, dazzling glare. She slowly opened her watering eyes and saw a shining expanse of water. “This is a lake!”

“May Lake — the smallest of several. It is stair-stepped above two others, June and July.” 

“But . . . this is far more water than you need.”

“True, but this lake and its sisters are not for us.” She looked at Karin. “Our planet needs them, needs healing waters. That is our great work here.”

Karin frowned. “Don’t scientists in the bubbles work on this, the healing part?”

“That is the message bubble oligarchs distribute. The reality is different. They prefer things as they are.”

“Why? Wouldn’t everyone benefit from clean air and clean water?”

Alma laughed. “Not at all. The oligarchs rape and pollute for profit. They always have, and they do not intend to stop. A ruined earth is ideal for them, as long as their bubbles remain clean.”

“I don’t understand.”

Alma gestured to the waters with an open hand. “This lake is part of a great engine of change.”

“An engine?”

“Yes. The bottommost lake, July, lies partially outside our mountain. It sustains wetlands, marshes where diatoms thrive.”

“So?”

“Some scientists within the bubbles work secretly on ways to cleanse the planet. We Fugees are their hands. They designed diatoms that consume pollutants at enormous rates. We care for the lakes and cultivate the diatoms in the hope that our children’s children may again walk beneath blue skies and breathe clean air.”

Karin took in the shining lake for a moment. “That is a wonderful hope.”

“Help me, then.”

Karin looked at her in puzzlement.

“I come here daily in service of that hope.” Alma opened the satchel. “Take a handful.”

Karin plunged her hand into what felt like fine sand. “What is this?”

“The diatoms I mentioned — I come here daily to spread them upon these waters.”

“What should I do?”

“Cast them as far and wide as you can.” Alma smiled. “They’ll swim on their own, and swiftly so, through each lake, and so begin their good work.”

Karin closed her fist on a handful of diatoms, pulled her hand free of the satchel’s leather flap, extended her arm behind her back, and then flung her handful hard. A crystalline rainbow leapt from her fingers, arching high and drifting in scintillating wisps over May Lake. 

Alma leaned forward. “Again, my dear, until the satchel is empty.”

* * *

Alma hung the empty satchel on its hook. “You are now one of our many helpers in the bubbles — scientists, teachers, workers in the hydroponics farms, musicians, nurses — people of goodwill. We welcome you!” Alma smiled. “But for all of our safety and for yours, there must be filters.” 

Karin nodded. “I understand.”

“After you return home, someone will speak with you.”

“How?”

“You live in the Gotham Bubble?”    

“Yes, in Manhattan, on Bleecker Street.”

“Good! Once you get home, walk from the Village to Washington Square Park’s west entrance. Do so daily. Someone will approach you when they’re sure you’re not being monitored.”

Karin’s brow wrinkled. “How will they recognize me?”

“Wear this.” Alma unpinned her flower broach, its burgundy stone glowing within the embrace of silver petals. 

Karin stared at the beautiful brooch. “I can’t take this!”

Alma folded it into Karin’s palm. “Give it to the person who contacts you.”

“Then what?”

“You will make some purchases for us.”

“And send them where?”

“Nowhere.” She smiled. “You will be given a drop-off location, the first of several. Even I don’t know where or how many. Suffice it to say that after a number of cutouts, medicines and supplies will reach us here.”

Karin’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t think Jared will go for this. He’ll want to turn you in.” She looked away.

“Don’t worry about Jared. He got a dose of LSD 14 with his pain meds. His memories will be sparkly fragments for weeks. We’ll find you a drug dealer if he needs another treatment after that.” 

“What do I tell the hotel authorities?”

“Take this.” Alma pushed a sonic pistol into her hands. “It’s a contraband weapon. Tell them it belongs to Jared, that he drove the pig away with it. He won’t remember.”

“Will he get in trouble?”

“Some – a big fine from the Aspen bubble and permanent watch status on his record, but he won’t mind.”

“Why not?”

“Man saves the love of his life from monster pig!” Alma winked.

Karin smiled. “I see.”

“You can fill in the details, I’m sure. Once the blog-newsies get hold of the story, he’ll be a meme hero.”

“Won’t they find the jabali?”

“It’s gone. Our disposal site ends in a three-hundred-meter cliff.” Alma patted Karin’s hand. “We should return you both to your pod.”

Karin stared long at the bandaged child lying next to Jared. She was asleep, her unicorn book on her chest beneath her bandaged hand.

“Alejandro, Hector?” Alma called to her helpers. “It’s time to go. Bring the litter.”

* * *

It was full dark when they reached the transport pod. Alejandro and Hector took Jared inside. Karin took Alma’s hand. “Thank you for saving us.”

Alma smiled. “We live for each other, all of us. I . . . ”

Flames flared lower on the mountain. A thin shadow flitted from among boulders’ greater shadows and approached them rapidly, stopping a few yards away. “Alma?” 

“What is it, Luz?”

“Carla is leading a group here.”

“From where?”

Luz took a deep breath before she went on. “One of the sanctuary caves. They’ve been hiding in the big one since the dragon-bots took out their village.” 

“How many?”

“Two dozen – eleven children, several old people.” Blue lights flashed below, lighting the smoggy air with an electric glow. Luz swallowed. “The bubble police are chasing them, and they’re close, too close.”

A police air horn shrieked its warning blast. Karin’s eyes went wide. “What do we do?”

“Luz, the jabali boar, it was captured?”

“Yes.”

“Is it near?”

Luz pointed downhill. “In the holding pen, next to the boulders there.”

“Good. We need a distraction.” She patted the girl’s thin shoulder. “Alejandro, Hector, I need you!”

The young men finished securing Jared in a seat and hopped out of the pod. Alejandro spoke, “What is it, Alma?”

“A group of fugees is coming our way. The police are after them. Help Luz and Carla get them into shelter. Quickly now!”

Luz pointed. “This way.” She turned and dashed back the way she’d come. The young men followed her.

Alma looked at Karin. “I’ll need your help. Will you come with me?”

Karin nodded. “Of course.”

Alma manipulated something on her belt. A small pool of light sprang up at her feet. “Let’s go.” 

They trotted over gravel and loose rock as fast as the dancing pool of light allowed. Karin slipped and skidded on her left knee. “Damn!”

Alma looked back. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, just a scrape. Don’t slow down for me.”

“Right.” She led on past the first large boulder and stopped in the shadow of the second. “Here we are.”

“My God!”

Alma’s light revealed a monster. Huffing and slavering, the jabali glared at them with one mad, red eye. “This is the mate of the one we killed. It’s a big one.”

“You caught it? How?”

“You’ve heard of snake tape?”

“Yes, sticky stuff. For crowd control.”

“Exactly,” Alma nodded. “There’s an industrial version. We use it to snare these creatures when they come too close.”

Karin took a step backward. “Why not just kill them?”

“We do when we must. Otherwise, they’re useful. They help clean the wastelands, and someday, that will make a difference. Besides . . . ” she smiled, “this one is going to help us after we let him go.”

“Let him go?”

“I’ll do that. You’ve got to point him toward the bubble police.”

Karin stared at dripping tusks. “He takes suggestions?”

“He reacts to threats.” She handed Karin two, clear plastic balls.

“Bouncy balls?”

“Light lures. Pigs have monocular vision, very sensitive to moving shadows. Squeeze the ball to activate its chemical light. Toss it in front of him and let it roll downhill. He’ll follow it.”

“Now?” squeaked Karin.

“Climb the boulder first. It’s more than three meters high, so he can’t get to you. There are hand and footholds on the other side.”

“Right.” Karin rose.

“Wait for me to get ready. I’ll call to you.”

“Right.”

Karin walked a few paces, found the carved holds, and began climbing. She scrambled to the boulder’s tilted summit and found a place to sit. “Okay, Alma.”

“Wait!” She stepped close to the beast’s bristly muzzle. “Good hunting, friend jabali.” She smacked it hard with her open hand.

The boar uttered a rising scream, tongue extended between razor tusks.

Alma shouted, “Now!” She pulled the snare’s release line and danced back.

Karin tossed a ball. It bounced in front of the jabali and rolled downhill, wobbling and trailing skittering shadows. The boar screamed again, bounded out of the snare, and churned toward the rolling ball.

“Nice job.”

Karin whirled and nearly tumbled off the boulder. Alma gripped her arm steadied her. She took a deep breath. “You scared the life out of me!”

Alma shrugged. “Sorry.”

“You’re fast!” 

“A slow fugee is a dead fugee.”

The jabali squealed again. It had caught up with the ball twenty meters or so downhill and was now shredding it with hatchet-blade hooves. 

Alma held out her hand. “Give me the other ball.”

Karin placed it in her palm. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” She squeezed the ball, and its green glow flickered into life. She cocked her arm and threw it as hard as she could. It soared, hit in front of the jabali, and bounced down the rocky slope. The animal’s hooves struck sparks from rocks as it charged the new threat.

“Will that get it close to the police?” 

“Look.”

Flame flickering in slits of eyes, what could only be a dragon-bot rolled into view several hundred meters below. It turned right toward a brush-filled gully.

“What’s it doing?” Karin whispered.

“It’s about to torch a possible fugee hiding place.”

“Are they in there?”

Bent shadows lurched and staggered up the hill behind them. “No.”

Mounted on a standard six-wheeled drone carrier, the dragon-bot was comprised of a stylized steel head with four hydrogen tanks situated behind it. Fire suddenly belched between saw-teeth, igniting the dry brush.

The jabali squealed and charged, thundering downhill like an avalanche.

Further down the hill in an enclosed control car, the bot pilot finally noticed the enraged pig. The bot’s wheels spun in loose gravel as he backed it up, too late. The half-ton jabali smashed into the car, tipping it onto its side, rupturing two of its tanks.

“Duck!” Alma covered her eyes. 

Karin buried her face in her arms. Unbearable white light flared and faded. A rolling rumble made the boulder quiver. She raised her head and saw boiling yellow flames consume both the bot and the boar. The flames washed downhill, engulfing the control car and licking at half a dozen police vehicles behind it. 

Alma touched her arm. “We can go now.”

They walked slowly uphill, side by side. Karin glanced at her fugee companion. “I’m glad we met.”

Alma smiled. “As am I.”

“Perhaps we will see each other again?”

Alma was silent for a long moment. “Perhaps.” 

As they reached the pod, an SX-9 Starsun’s beam suddenly drenched the vehicle’s side in white light. 

Alma dodged behind the open door, pulling Karin with her. “Bubble police! They got over the jabali attack faster than I thought possible!”

“They’ll be here in seconds!”

Alma squeezed Karin’s wrist. “Be safe!”

“And you!” Karin reached for her hand, but she was gone. 

Karin took a deep breath, shaded her eyes, and stepped into the light. A half dozen bubble police deployed to right and left in a tactical perimeter, weapons trained outwards. Their commander, dressed in black armor with a silver and blue helmet, strode toward the pod. 

She hung her head and let her shoulders slump, trying to look like a tourist in distress. Beside her, Jared groaned. She patted his shoulder. “Everything is okay, dear, she murmured. “You’re about to become a hero.”

* * *

“The end.” Alma closed the tattered unicorn book.

Amber light from an oil lantern illuminated Carolina’s smile. She and Alma sat for a moment in convivial silence on cushions in an alcove next to the infirmary.  

Hector ambled up to them and stopped. “We checked the number four mag-lev drops today. There was a package at the upper one.” He handed Alma a large, plastic envelope, mottled gray and brown.

“Thank you, Hector.” She took out her slender knife, slit the end of the package, and took out plastic-wrapped parcels. “Ah, very good!”

Carolina leaned close. “What?”

“Medicines, some good ones – anti-biotics and . . .” She held up an aerosol dispenser, “plas-bumin 37 foam with nano-re-constructors to help your hand heal.” She removed the last packet of medicines and set the envelope down. Something still rattled inside.

Carolina looked up at Alma. “It’s not empty.”

Alma tipped the envelope and caught her silver broach as it dropped onto her upturned palm. “Ah!”

Carolina sat up. “What is it?”

“Just a brooch I loaned a friend.” She smiled. “And there’s something else here. I think it’s for you.” She again shook the envelope. 

A small, bright, object fell into Carolina’s cupped hands. She held it up. “Look, Alma! A glass unicorn! And it’s blue!”