In 2172, a young woman escapes life on Earth, finds herself pregnant on a Mars ship. |
Steam from the sidewalks wafted up in visible waves of hot air, appending blur to the already hazy tenor of Miami Island. High walls of concrete all around, erected years ago to fend off the onslaught of rising waters, provided little refuge from the routine glut of tropical sun. If anything, they only helped trap in the choking heat that permeated every inch of the partially domed island city. Beyond Miami lay an encirclement of foul brown surf, diluted intermittently by the greater, turbid blue. Florida, one of the many low-lying lands to succumb to an over-saturated Earth, had long ago been drowned beneath the depths of the ocean. Leighton, hair wet with perspiration, weaved through the busy pavements of the downtown district, her face mask dangling slipshod over her nose and mouth, held together with a single loose knot. Her seventeen-year-old body lithely slipped between the gaps of the bustling crowd, leaping over fixtures and smaller folk where possible, narrowly scooting past the larger denizens when obliged, in steady haste towards the white-stoned high-rise that loomed ahead. As she reached the portico that outfitted the only entryway for the modern spire, Leighton gave pause. Even up close, the tall, windowless palisade barely cast a shadow onto the pavements surrounding it, as if a sundial without a muse. It stood out in stark contrast from the rest of the gray concrete and metal structures that made up downtown Miami. Every so often, an individual would emerge from one of the building’s two main doors, each mammoth panes of glass that spilled out onto the city sidewalk. And just as infrequently, the glass slabs would open inward, providing entry for the select few able to scan their badge at the nearby computer kiosk. One foot standing within the building shade, the other still under the sun’s full glare, but still within reach of the doors, Leighton rummaged through the deep pockets of her bulky overcoat, buying for time. The coat looked colossal against her small frame, the tips of her fingers barely reaching through the ends of the voluminous sleeves. It was objectively inappropriate for wear, given the warm climate. Still, it allowed her to inconspicuously pilfer the purses and pockets of those unsuspecting passers-by, a mobile storehouse of stolen trinkets swathed upon the physique of a small, solemn girl. Her fingers pawed at a ring and at least two, expensive watches, all of which she could easily pawn for credits by the end of day. A fat, absent-minded woman, exited the white stone building (granite), the doors swinging wide enough for Leighton to slip in unnoticed. Inside, she walked past the elevators and the potential for conversations, making a straight line toward the staircase. Other building patrons shuffled nigh unbothered, her plain brown shirt and black pants providing convenient camouflage against the backdrop of the drab, black leather and wood furnishings that littered the lobby floor. Once on the staircase, Leighton bolted up multiple flights, clearing several steps with every stride. Reaching her final landing, she stopped to catch her breath, leaning briefly against the thin metal door before her. Composed, Leighton gingerly pulled the door open, peaking her head into the room to check for staff before fully entering it. As a frequent unwelcome and always unexpected visitor to this place, her ejection from it would be swift once discovered. Satisfied with her elected solitude, she stepped into the large gallery of a room, separated evenly down the middle by large, clear panes of floor-to-ceiling glass. On her side, a dozen plastic chairs were situated unevenly throughout the area like random lily pads on a pond. The faded yellow walls were devoid of any décor but bore the tinged, speckless imprints of a façade once dotted with framed portraits and art. Two twin file cabinets rested in tandem against the side wall. The paneled, office lights overhead buzzed faintly to each other without pause as if in infinite argument. On the other side of the glass wall, a number of girls her age preoccupied themselves with conversation, book reading, painting, or napping. All appeared pregnant, all appeared invariably bored, and all appeared unaware of her sudden appearance in the partitioned chamber. |