New Pepper Tree

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One Hundred Million Fled the Tide in Two Generations                                                                                                                                   June 4, 2233
Wikipedia Deluxe (Archive of Earth)                                                                                                                                                                 Tuesday evening
 
          Doctor Meredith Cisneros hadn't chosen the celebration in Baltimore's hilly northern suburbs. She'd agreed to attend, but not to belong.
          She'd traded scrubs for a tailored A-line dress, navy and understated, the kind of fabric that resisted stains. A stethoscope-shaped brooch pinned at her collar was the only ornament, a quiet reminder of who she was beneath the costume.
          The car's graphene battery hummed to silence as she stepped onto the familiar path. The pavilion overlooked the river, a quiet sentinel where past met present
          From a distance she saw them--the architects of power, puppeteers behind closed doors.
          Her hunger drew her not inside but to three tables: NATURAL, VEGAN, PURE 100%.
          She reached for a black-bean canap As she reached for it, she slipped on sod slick with water.
          A server caught her arm. His sleeve slid back, revealing a rash--red welts, splotched and glistening, under the bio-luminescent light.
          Her medical instincts flared. Contact dermatitis, but with anomalies.
          "That needs attention," she said, her voice sharpened with concern.
          Liam tugged his cuff down, trying to hide the blotches. "It's nothing," he muttered, but his discomfort betrayed him.
          "It's not nothing," she said. "How much does it itch?"
          "Some," Liam admitted, glancing around. "But don't tell anyone. I can't afford to lose this job."
          Her hand hovered near Liam's wrist, her breath catching.
She'd seen this before--not the rash, but the silence. The fear of losing work, losing place, losing everything. Her mother had died in Tallahassee, years ago, when a migrating parasite bloomed in the wetlands. Maximo had insisted they stay--Plastix's new highland factory needed oversight. The local doctors were overwhelmed. Her mother's fever burned through the night while Maximo reviewed supply chains.
She had been twelve. She'd held a damp cloth to her mother's brow and whispered promises she couldn't keep.
          Meredith nodded, her voice low but firm. "I won't. But it needs treatment. Otherwise, it'll spread." She squinted at his name tag. "Liam, have you been around any three-leaved plants?"
          His eyes darted. "No. It's from the new pepper trees. Damn berries. Itches like hell."
          "Get that looked at," she urged. "Ignoring it won't help."
          Lam hesitated. "Where?"
          "Don't you have a doctor?"
          He shook his head. "No. We've got a clinic, but they've got bigger problems than mine."
          Before she could respond, a sharp voice cut through the evening air. "Doctor, if you wouldn't mind stepping aside so others can be served?" A woman approached the table, her heels clicking smartly against the flagstones. "The governor's in the mood for apple nachos."
          Meredith turned slightly, offering a polite smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Just a moment--I'm nearly finished," she said evenly, then leaned toward the server. "Where is this clinic? I could meet you there."
          Liam's gaze flicked past her, wary. "The Displaced People's Clinic. Down near Dorsey Landing, by the old ferry terminal."
          "I'll see you there. Tomorrow. Noon," she said, her voice low but firm, the promise sealed with a nod.
          She stepped away, balancing her plate as she passed the woman, who muttered under her breath, "Privileged nobody."