Thirteen years later

Plumgrove

An ocean flickered in the pale, blue-gray glow of her holovision. Orchestral music swelled to crashing waves, and hooves on sand. A young woman on horseback, beautiful and pale, galloped where sea and land met. Her silver-blond hair whipped about her face, matching the flow of the horse's billowed mane. Slow motion emphasized their grace.

Lily recognized her as Ethlyne Blane, a famous actress who often appeared in these advertisements.

A man's smooth, confident voice narrated. "For nearly a decade, Everblue has provided pure water, for all of the worlds."

The camera zoomed out, to an aerial distance, showing the hoofprints left along the beach. They filled with water, and grew into lakes and oceans.

It expanded further, and showed the gleaming blue planet. Then, the narrator stepped into view.

Silas Blane.

"By protecting our resources for the family of Earth, we keep an ongoing promise of hope," he said. "For our children, and for the future."

He still looked as suave and refined as the day she'd met him, when they escaped the ration camp. Silas became the CEO of Everblue after his father died, about eight years ago. His face was now recognized across the Net, always smiling, and giving heartfelt speeches in these asinine commercials.

What she remembered most about Silas was that he unsettled her.

She sighed, and commanded the holovision to turn off. Though she'd decided to retire early, she was restless tonight.

She'd spent the afternoon in Chelworth, a city about two hours away, to meet with a client, if that's what he could be called. The owner of a busy company had hired her to hack some private data from his rival.

The job had been straightforward, but risky, as always. She had ways to evade detection, to bait the Admin's surveillance systems, but there were a few close calls in her past. She tried not to take illicit jobs these days. At least this one paid well. She now had enough credits to give Clarence a decent Yuletide gift.

She sat beside her broad parlor window, wrapped in her favorite wine-red silk robe with the oversized fur collar. As she sipped her hot herbal tea, she realized that her monthly water ration was low. She knew a few dealers, and could obtain some down at the H20 lounges, if needed. But it was precarious, like hacking.

Running a full-time robotics shop in Plumgrove wasn't lucrative. It scarcely paid her bills, but this was where she wanted to live.

Winter had finally arrived, with the first flakes of the year drifting from a darkened sky. She loved to watch falling snow, and loved being home, in Harmony Valley.

The space colonies were so much like the snowglobe on her mantle. So beautiful to look at, even perfect, but they had no true snow. It only took a single crash to shatter the glass, bringing abrupt and fatal change.

She kept it on display, and looked at it every day. It was something Daddy had created, a testament to his genius and skill. Above all, it was something to remember him by.

A flu epidemic had spread through the Vestal Coil five years ago, and sickened thousands. Many never recovered. Daddy was one of the casualties.

He left a will, which had surprised both Clarence and herself. In it, he deeded them the house on the colony, and stated his last wish—to be buried in Plumgrove.

They laid him to rest in a quiet ceremony, near the Black Sky Day memorial.

Returning to the valley awakened something in Lily. She felt a long-suppressed desire for things forgotten, things lost.

She had been working as a programmer on the Vestal Coil, and playing regularly with the Hard Knocks, at several clubs on the central torus.

Losing Daddy changed everything.

Her job became mundane. She grew anxious, cried too much, and erupted in fits of inexplicable rage. Her stage life was also disrupted. Some of the clubs they worked at were of seamy, questionable repute. They were useful to her secret hacking career, in finding new clients, but the subversive lifestyle only enhanced her grief.

Two years after Daddy's passing, she still felt empty. She tried to keep the routine, but all purpose crumbled away. She quit her job on the colony, broke up with her boyfriend, and told the Knox twins she needed to take a hiatus from music. Leaving her entire life behind, she tried to start anew.

She pooled all of her savings, and bought a house in Plumgrove. It was the old Tuxbury house, which she'd admired as a child, and one of the few that had survived the bombing.

A proud porch and white-washed eaves overlooked the many arched windows. She loved opening them all up, to let the sun in. There was a good-sized shop out back, where she worked as a freelance technician. Part of the original orchard also remained. Tuxbury plums were her favorite, and they were all hers, now.

Tomorrow was Yuletide Eve. Her shop was closed for the holiday, and she had a morning flight to orbit. She was going to spend the week with Clarence, Ben, and Delia.

She raised a finger, flicked it once, and her household robot strode to her command.

"I'll be leaving the house to you, LX," she said. She still talked to her robots, as if they were friends. It was what Daddy used to do. "Keep the custodian on daily inspection of the plumbing. I don't want to come home to frozen pipes."

"Yes, ma'am." LX was a new type of domestic assistant. Efficiency was the most notable quality of modern robotics. The latest models operated on solar and battery power to get through a day's work, and recharged well on a standard diesel-powered generator.

LX was a poor substitute for a social life, but robots never pressured her, or asked questions. Sometimes she preferred that.

Nevertheless, she was eager to see her family. She spent too much time alone, and knew it wasn't healthy.

She rose the next morning, and packed her suitcase.

LX loaded it into the cab. Her robots would all stay home this time, as the mechanical fare was too costly.

Holiday travel was jumbled. Delays, frustrated employees, and screaming children annoyed her. Fortunately, she'd packed light. She endured a crowded four hour flight to the orbital nexus, and from there boarded her connecting shuttle to the Vestal Coil.

For the first time in weeks, she'd decided to dress up, wearing a loose-fitting black dress, tailored coat, and a matching cloche with a patterned band of sequins. She even wore makeup, which was rare these days. Lately, she struggled to get out of bed, slipping from her robe to her coveralls, and back again. If she wasn't at home, or in the robotics shop, she was on the sofa, watching the holovision, or lurking on the Net. She rarely had visitors. People stopped calling when she ignored messages for a day or two.

She stepped off the transport, with her luggage on hover mode, and searched the crowd for any familiar face.

Then she heard a wave and shout. "Sis, over here!"

Running to Clarence, she found his hug. "It's good to see you, baby brother."

He'd grown so handsome over the years. At only twenty-six, he was working through medical school. He still looked like Daddy, but he had Mama's dimples and laughter.

A pretty young woman held his arm. Reddish brown curls framed her heart-shaped face, beneath the brim of her buttoned hat. She blushed sweetly.

"This is my girlfriend, Tess," Clarence said.

"It's wonderful to meet you, Lily. I've heard so much about you."

Lily shook Tess's hand, and instantly liked her confident grip and genuine smile.

Clarence owned a commuter sedan, a compact, streamlined vehicle, which he was proud of. It was a short ride, to an affluent ring on Tier Eight. They parked in the gently sloped driveway, beside an immaculate row of hedges.

As they stepped out of the car, Lily pulled Clarence aside.

"Give me your hand," she said, grinning. She tapped the center of his palm. Her wristcom chimed, followed by a trilled notification tone on Clarence's, notifying a completed transfer to his currency chip. The Administration required everyone to install a chip in their fingertip or palm, since the end of the War. All transactions flowed through them.

Clarence's eyes widened, when he looked at the message.

"Happy Yule," she said, squeezing his arm.

"That's too much. You can't afford..."

She silenced him by kissing his cheek. "It's not, and I can."

"Thank you. And Happy Yule to you, too. I miss you," He leaned close to her, whispering. "Have you been hacking again? Your robotics work wouldn't earn that kind of sum."

Clarence was the only person, besides Delia, who knew about her clandestine work as an accessor.

"A few jobs, here and there. But don't worry, I cover my tracks. The Admin loses the beat, if I time my interludes right."

He gripped her hand. "Please, be careful. I don't like it. You promised me you were getting out of that trap."

She laughed, but felt uneasy. "Of course I am. It's just hard to say no, when people offer to pay well."

"All right." He nodded, but still looked sad. "I'm just concerned. You haven't called me in two weeks. It's not like you. And, do you realize I haven't seen you in months?"

In truth, she hadn't realized it. Time flew by, and her seclusion made each day and week blend into the next. She felt a tinge of guilt.

"Come on," she said, forcing a smile. "Let's go inside."

Ben and Delia had done well for themselves, in the thirteen years since the War. Delia was the director of a prestigious robotics design team. Ben had completed medical school, and became a doctor, inspiring Clarence to do the same.

The door opened before they could knock, and seven-year-old Stella skipped out to meet them. She was a beautiful child, with Ben's dark blonde waves, her mother's stark gray eyes, and possessing the vivacious wit of both her parents.

Clarence swung her around, and carried her inside piggy-back.

Delia and Ben met them with embraces.

Lily was happy to see everyone. She smiled, sang songs while Stella fumbled along the piano keys, enjoyed the spiced wine and home-baked treats, and the conversation.

Regardless, Delia noticed something was wrong, and cornered her when they were alone on the back terrace.

"How are you doing?" she asked. "It's been almost a year since I've seen you."

"I've been busy," Lily said. "I don't know where the time goes these days. Sorry that I've been a recluse."

"I understand. How are things in Plumgrove?"

"Snow, and lots of work, but I love it."

Delia raised her eyebrows. "Lots of work, and lots of friends, I hope. Are you still seeing the young man we met? That nice architect?"

"Gilbert? No, we split up. You know how things can be." She turned away, and wrapped her arms around herself.

"You're like a little sister to me," Delia said, reaching for her hand. "I love you, Lily, and I can't bear to see you like this."

"Can't bear to see me, how?"

"You've always been so full of life. But you seem troubled, now."

Lily fidgeted with a button on her coat, twisting it as she stared at the ground. "I'm fine, really. Moving to Plumgrove is the best thing I ever did."

"I see the sadness behind your eyes. You've secluded yourself for so long, and you've worn all black on your past few visits here. You can't go on like this."

"I'm not in mourning. But, thank you for your concern."

Delia persisted. "You have to close that door, and move on. Your father was a wonderful man, but he'd want you to continue with your life."

Lily's sight blurred with tears. "Please, can we not discuss this? I'm trying to enjoy the holiday, and you aren't helping."

Delia removed her hand, and backed away. She took a nervous sip of her wine. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."

An uncomfortable silence settled between them.

Lily regretted the sharp remark. She was grateful when Ben poked his head out the door, and broke the tension.

"I've got Stella ready for bed," he said. "But she won't sleep unless you read her a story."

Delia smiled. "I'll be right there." She gave Lily's shoulder an affectionate squeeze, then went inside.

Ben grew solemn, when he saw the tears on Lily's face. He shut the door behind him, and joined her on the terrace. Standing beside her quietly, he watched the glittering lights on the other side of the ring.

"I always miss my loved ones during the holidays," he said. "Especially those I've lost."

"I'm a complete wreck," she said, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. "You all must think I'm pathetic." She buried her face in her hands.

Ben didn't ask questions, or pry. He just hugged her.

As his arms closed around her, strong and reassuring, her sobs broke. The heavy pain of years, the loss which had formed into an immovable burden within her, gave way for the first time.

"The pain never goes away completely," Ben said. "My mother and father were killed over thirty years ago. Sometimes I still cry, as if they died yesterday."

"Thank you," she said, sniffling. "I needed that."

He brushed a stray tear from her cheek. "You're not alone. Don't ever forget it. We miss you. It's good that you've found a home for yourself, but you can't hide away. Life is waiting for you to step back in."

"Yeah. I haven't even set foot on stage in almost three years. Maybe it's time to change that."

He smiled gently. "Find what brings joy to your life, and pursue it. We'll be cheering for you along the way."

The household robot approached, with a serving tray in one effector. "Care for some mulled wine?" it asked, its electronic voice overly polite and eager.

They enjoyed a glass together, then joined the others inside.

Everyone drank a toast, to the coming year, to the blessings of friendship, family, and new beginnings.

Lily apologized to Delia, for snapping at her.

Kissing her cheek, Delia reminded her how much she was loved.

They played a Yuletide game, before they retired for the evening. It involved a set of fortune spheres, each the size of a marble. When cracked open, they revealed what lay in store for the year.

Everyone went outside at the stroke of midnight.

Delia placed the spheres into the empty wine bottle, and Ben tossed it into the air. It landed onto the terrace with a piercing shatter, and the fortunes rolled out at their feet.

They each picked up the closest one, and read it. According to tradition, as long as you kept it secret, it would come true.

It was just a silly game, but Lily was taken aback when she unrolled the little scroll in her palm.

'Love descends with a song'.

It was more of a pretty saying than a fortune. Yet, somehow, it made her feel more optimistic.

A week later, she received a momentous call. A face she hadn't seen in over a year appeared on hologram. "Gilda, how have you been?"

Gilda smiled, and tipped her hat. "Fine, thank you. I have a proposition for you. Sammy and I just got this amazing new gig. We've got a pianist, and a drummer, too. Sounds great. But the venue wants a vocalist. I know you've been out for a few years, but are you interested?"

It seemed like fate. "Yes. I'd love to."

Things didn't seem so dire anymore.

When she returned home to Plumgrove, she admired the snowglobe, a scene of beauty trapped in its fragile case of glass and gilded bronze. Daddy had been right. The world could never be made perfect, but she could make her own corner of it as perfect as she wanted.