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No one speaks while Nicolette drifts away. I’d like to say something, or hear someone else offer thoughtful words, but I’m not sure any could meet the moment. The death of our planet brought us all together; now we’re united in our new home to bid farewell to another life lost. I doubt many people got to know Nicolette well, but there’s no question she’ll be remembered forever.

We all stand awhile, honoring her in silence. It’s not until the last sliver of sunlight hides behind a faraway mountain range that we begin to move through the Martian dusk back toward the ship.

Marek and I wander back slowly, taking a different route than the others, sneaking away as darkness and shadows provide cover. Above, a brand new solar system becomes more and more vibrant. Yes, these are the same stars I’ve seen before but from an angle I’ve never imagined. Marek and I stare at the shifted galaxy, our fingers naturally finding each other’s and intertwining.

“Two moons,” Marek says softly, and I follow his gaze where a second glowing orb has entered our field of view. I can actually see it making its way across the sky, while the other seems to stay in one place.

Neither glows as brightly as the moon back home… back on Earth… but they’re both beautiful.

After a few minutes of star gazing, when we’re sure everyone is out of earshot, he pulls me behind a too-tall tree and presses me against the trunk roughly as he takes my mouth with his.

My passion matches his, as I claw at his back and bite at his bottom lip.

There are too many clothes between us and we don’t have enough privacy to change that, so when we pull apart we are both horny and unhappy and even more excited for tomorrow.

The rest of the walk back looks a bit uncomfortable for poor Marek. He notices me looking and chuckles. “If you like what you see I am happy to offer you a closer look.”

My cheeks heat but I laugh. “Don’t tease unless you’re ready to pay up.”

“Soon enough,” he grumbles.

We follow the others as they file into the ship and head to their suites. When we arrive at suites one and two, we’re forced to say goodbye.

We hold each other’s gaze for so long, time almost stands still, and he brushes his fingers ever so gently against mine before returning to his room.

I walk through my door and see that Robert and Ivan are still hanging out. I give the quickest recap of the funeral and then make a beeline to the bathroom for my routine soak. Upon entry, I shiver in excitement when I hear the shower in the adjacent bathroom turn on.

I am feverishly impatient for tomorrow. I don’t know what we are going to do about the community. How we can flout the rules. Maybe we can’t. I hate to think we’d have to live our lives running around lying to everyone, but god I don’t think I can bear to give him up. This is all so frustratingly complicated for the stupidest reasons and I hate it.

Tomorrow, I’m not going to think about the future. Tomorrow, I’m going to suck the marrow out of each moment I can. Tomorrow, I am going to slow down time and absorb it into my skin.

Tonight, I am going to close my eyes and dream about Marek.

20

MAREK

“Well, space is there, and we’re going to climb it, and the moon and the planets are there, and new hopes for knowledge and peace are there.”

—John F. Kennedy

* * *

I have never felt more pressure, had more responsibility, or dealt with more people demanding my assistance--even when running multi-national companies with more employees than our current survivor list. It should all overwhelm me, but how could it when I am utterly distracted?

All my thoughts are laser focused on Azalea.

Everything else feels small in comparison.

I am half-present as I organize a hunting team, sending a select group of experienced trackers to assess the wild game. Once the planet was terraformed and capable of hosting life, a few dozen breeds of animals were delivered on an exploratory mission about three years ago. Satellite footage has shown growing numbers in the various herds, but I want a ground report on the health of the animals before setting hunting quotas.

I delegate a handful of building tasks to various people, annoyed that Robert, one of our most experienced developers, is bedridden with a broken leg. It gives me a moment of pause, wondering if I am needed to oversee our progress in person, but my heart rejects the notion almost instantly. I can still be contacted long distance in the case of an emergency. There are many here who are more skilled than myself in necessary areas of survival, and I must trust them.

I cannot be everywhere at once.

Right now, I have no higher priority than my trip with Azalea.

Even if the cargo tier had never been aborted and all our provisions were right where they needed to be, I would still fight to steal her away. A recon mission for farming, perhaps.