Page 88
Story: The Lottery
Has it really been that long already? There are no windows here to help keep track of time. But even if I wanted to sleep, I’m not sure I could. My body is still tense with nerves.
“Care to make me a cup as well?” I ask.
He nods, and a moment later, we’re sitting side by side on the loveseat, sipping at our steaming coffees together.
I scoot into his arms, conforming my body into his. “This is quite a mess,” I say finally.
He closes his eyes, but his grip on me tightens and he takes another drink. “Da. Now I have to decide how to clean it up.”
I don’t realize I’m trembling, that tears are streaming down my face until Marek puts his hands on my face. He brushes away my tears. He holds me as I shake. He does just what I need, propping me up as I process a lot of complicated feelings: Buddy grabbing me; assuming I could be taken for his pleasure because he decided; Lana’s bruises and injuries; guys catcalling, grabbing, harassing… all my life. All my friends. All the stories. I hate it. I hate that we have taken the worst of Earth’s human life with us to Mars.
“It never ends for women,” I tell him. “Even on a new planet… even now we are still dealing with this bullshit.” I can’t keep the anger from my voice. The rage. The injustice. I don’t want to. I’m tired of it. Tired of thinking of it. Dealing with it. Facing the consequences of it. “Lana deserves justice.” We all do.
Marek nods, strokes my hair, holds me. I sit up and turn to him. “We can’t force people together. We can’t encourage the idea that men are entitled to us because an algorithm said so.”
Marek doesn’t say anything, but he squeezes my hands and I know he hears me. I know he agrees. It doesn’t make the next step easy for him, but at least we’re on the same team.
I check the time on my tablet. “It’s almost sunrise. You have to make your speech soon. ”
He sighs, rubbing the center of his forehead with his finger, then stands. “First, I must go speak with Buddy Fischer. Then… then I must meet with the senior crew members.”
“What will you do?” I ask.
His eyes look distant as he steps toward the door. “I will make sure everyone is protected.”
“How?”
“I will find a way.”
* * *
Forty-five minutes later, I head to level four. Others pass me by in the halls, some seemingly anxious, and others almost bored, as they wait to hear Marek’s address. We gather in what once was the ballroom. One of the few places in the ship big enough to hold all of us.
Lana attends, against the doctor's recommendations, her face bruised and swollen. I hug her when we meet, and she finds a seat next to mine. Robert and Ivan are nowhere to be seen, but despite their absence, the room is packed.
Even the captain is here, though she wears a bemused look. Until Astrid and Declan escort Buddy Fischer into the room, and everyone seems to hold their breath.
Long, bloodied scratch marks run down his face and neck.
His right-hand bears a red-soaked bandage.
After a minute of deafening silence, he speaks.
“She got what was coming to her.”
I almost gasp at the audacity of his words, at the sheer disgust he radiates. A murmur breaks out in the crowd. Angry words are thrown around. Someone rushes up from their seat.
Silas.
He runs at Buddy with fists held high, swinging as two men pull him back. “You don’t deserve to live.” He spits at the floor, though he was surely aiming at Buddy.
The bastard just grins as he takes his seat.
I can hardly stand to look at him.
But I see Lana glaring his way, her eyes unflinching.
Metis announces everyone has arrived.
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