Betrothed Episode One (4 page)

As the
Illuminate walked away, he tipped his regal head back and didn’t
once look my way. I was worse than insignificant to him: I was
non-existent.

I
blinked quickly and turned, taking a calming breath as I tried not
to look at the accusatory glances around me.

Sometimes I thought this future was incredible – modern in
every way imaginable. From faster-than-light travel, to planets
tethered together – they’d managed to achieve so much.

And then
I was brought right back down to Earth. For all this incredible
universe’s achievements, it was still riddled with outdated
traditions. From royalty to whatever the hell that Illuminate guy
was, there was still class inequity. Even in my day back on 21st
century Earth we’d been trying to make that a thing of the
past.

As I
looked around me, I realized how entrenched it was in the
future.

Far
ahead, the Illuminate strode, his head tilted back as he didn’t
even bother to acknowledge the people shuffling out of his
way.

What a
jerk. Everyone else here may not be able to see that, but I could.
I didn’t care what this guy did, but no one earned the right to
treat people like that.

I stowed
my mutinous thoughts as the lines reformed. It didn’t happen right
away, though – everyone waited until the Illuminate was far out of
sight, his polished boots echoing down the enormously long
corridor.

When the
lines did reform, I was shunted to the back. Various aliens kept
shooting me accusatory glares, as if I’d killed their puppies or
something.

I meekly
took my place at the end of the line, waiting around until some new
people joined it who hadn’t been around to see my apparent social
transgression.

As I
stood there at the end of the new line, I stewed. I entertained
every unkind thought about that jerk I could, then I moved on to
how much I hated this universe.

If only
I’d never contracted that virus 400 years ago, I wouldn’t be here
now. I would have lived out my existence in the 21st century. I
would have had a great life, I’m sure. Better than this,
anyway.

Eventually, after what felt like half a day, I reached the
front of the line. The single clerk who sat behind an enormous
polished wood desk barely looked up at me.

I had to
shout to be heard.

“
Place your hand on the bio scanner,” the alien woman
snapped.

I did as
I was told.

A few
seconds later she brought up one of her twenty arms and pointed
down one of the twenty corridors branching off from behind her
desk.

“
Ah,” I began.

“
That way,” she snapped, then leaned past me to wave on the
next person in the queue.

I stood around for a little, unsure of what to do, but when
everyone continued to ignore me, I shuffled towards the hall she’d
pointed to.

There
were no signs. I had absolutely no idea where I was going. She
hadn’t said anything, either. For all I knew, she could have sent
me back to the start of the line.

With a
heavy heart and by now a rumbly stomach, I walked off down the
hallway.

After a
few lengths, the architecture around me started to change. Gone was
the sleek white modern feel of the main hall, until I found myself
in a narrow winding corridor interrupted every 20 meters or so with
spiral staircases.

The
design was a hodge podge, and made me feel as though someone had
taken an old castle from Earth and smashed it together with a space
ship.

At least
it distracted me.

I kept
walking until I reached a checkpoint. A security officer scanned my
implant and waved me on.

I tried
to ask him where I was going, but he ignored me, turned, and
started chatting to his buddy.

I caught
a few snippets of their conversation. It was the same topic
everyone in Central seemed to be discussing – the upcoming
Illuminate wedding.

I hadn’t
been paying attention, but as I thought about it now, I wondered if
that jerk Illuminate in the main hall had anything to do with
it.

If it
was his wedding, I hoped he was getting married to someone awful
who’d ruin his life forever.

....

Okay,
that was mean. I’d been brought up as a good girl. But honestly,
some people were beyond kindness.

I
continued down the winding corridor, wondering if I’d reach my
destination before I succumbed to hunger and thirst. If I’d known
trekking through the contracts building would be like traversing a
city, I’d have brought supplies.

I tried
not to let my spirits slip as I trekked on, reminding myself I
would be picking up an inheritance soon. It could be anything, from
a small moon to a box of my grandma’s old gnomes.

Finally
the corridor widened into a large room. Just like the main hall
above, there was an enormous bench, this one made out of gleaming
white metal trimmed with gold.

There
was an alien man on the opposite side of the counter.

He
didn’t look up as I approached. I was the only person in this
enormous room other than him, but he didn’t register my presence at
all.

It
wasn’t until I’d cleared my throat for the tenth time and managed a
timid, “excuse me,” that he bothered to roll his three eyes towards
me.

“
Can I help you?” he asked in the standard tongue.

“
Ah, yeah, I was sent here by the lady at
reception.”

He
didn’t respond. He looked at me with those three luminescent eyes
and appeared to wait.

“
So, ah, do you want my biometric scan?” I hazarded through a
swallow.

“
I already have it.”

“
O-kay ... so what do you need me to do?”

“
Nothing.” He turned to look at something on the sunken panel
embedded in the smooth counter before him.

I stood
there and waited.

And
waited.

And
waited.

Had I
already mentioned how much I hated this modern universe? If I’d
thought 21st century Earth had been beset by irritating useless
traditions and bureaucracies, I’d been wrong. Give me a line up at
a toll booth any day.

“
... Ah, so what contract do I have?” I broke the
silence.

“
I don’t see why you’ve come here to ask.”

I
blinked my eyes slowly. “Y-you, what? I, I was sent here from
reception. I’m just trying to find out what contract I have. I’ve
come here all the way from the Alpha System,” I began to babble,
“to find out why the heck I can’t get a job with the government.
The clerk at the applications office told me there was some kind of
contract out on me and I’m here to find out what that is.” I
pressed my lips together, realizing ranting would get me
nowhere.

“
You are a newfound One, yes?”

I
nodded, stomach sinking. I was about to get another lecture on
proper modern universal etiquette, wasn’t I? Maybe that jerk of an
Illuminate would swan in to berate me too.

Instead
of launching into a spiel about how ignorant I was, the alien
looked confused for a moment. “Then you should go to the Identity
Office to find out who it is.”

“
Ah, sorry. I think you missed a step. Find out who what
is?”

“
You're betrothed. You’ve come to the wrong office. I can only
confirm your betrothal, I can’t tell you the details of who you are
contracted to wed.”

I stood
there. I didn’t move. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t
think.

“
You must have been told upon awaking as a newfound one. Your
identity would have been checked.”

I must
have looked like I was about to throw up. That, or
faint.

The
alien compressed his ridged brow. “You look unwell,
human.”

“
B-betrothed?” I couldn’t breathe. There was a lump stuck in
my throat, and I knew I was going to choke. “I, I can’t be
betrothed. It’s not possible.”

“
Didn’t you know?” He gave me an enquiring look.

I stood
there and stared at him as sweat slicked my brow.

“
Ma’am, are you alright?”

“
I … feel sick.”

“
Have you received your latest space flu shot?”

I stared
at him.

“
Ma’am?”

“
I, I d-d-don’t understand. How can I be
betrothed?”

“
A contract was created at the time of your birth,” he
began.

“
No, no, that can’t be. I’m a newfound one. I was born over
400 years ago!”

The
alien rested back in his chair and looked thoughtful. “That is an
extremely long time for a betrothal to run. There are two
possibilities – you have been betrothed to a member of a long-lived
race or you were betrothed only recently.”

“
Recently? What? I ... but why? How does that even work? I
mean, honestly, what kind of a universe is this? I’ve never met the
person I’m supposedly betrothed to—”

“
There is no supposedly, ma’am – you are legally bound to
them,” he interrupted.

I
pressed my hands into fists, not caring as the nails dug hard into
my palms. “I don’t care; this still isn’t right. Don’t I get any
say in the matter?”

He
looked at me impassively. “I do not see what the problem is. Most
people are thrilled to find they are betrothed. It is an ancient
and respected tradition—”

“
It’s ridiculous,” I ranted.

The
alien – who’d looked relatively kind up until now – frowned, his
fat green lips drawing thin. “You are a newfound one, so you may
not understand the traditions of the modern universe. However, you
should still respect them.”

“
Why?”

The
alien’s expression suddenly drew slack.

“
This whole thing is ridiculous.” I knew I should keep my tone
down, but I couldn’t. All the stress and frustration were pouring
out of me. “You know, I may be in the so-called future, but it
doesn’t feel like it. Sure, you have fancy space ships, but your
traditions are ancient. We got rid of class inequality years
ago.”

The
alien said nothing. Instead he stared behind me, his three
luminescent eyes opening as far as the skin would allow.

I should
have clicked that he was looking at someone behind me, but I was
too angry.

“
I can’t believe I have to satisfy this ridiculous contract
just to get a job with the government.”

“
It is your choice whether you choose to satisfy it or not. A
betrothal is an ancient and sacred tradition, and if you can’t see
that, you are better off ignoring it and returning to your ordinary
life,” someone said from behind me.

By this
stage I was livid. Angry at everything. Incensed by how this could
possibly be occurring in a future where they could cure almost
every disease and travel to the furthest reaches of the
universe.

Then I
turned and I saw him.

The
Illuminate.

An
entourage of reverent staff and security were holed up by the
doorway, either too timid to come in or not permitted to
try.

He
stared at me, those awful piercing eyes boring into my soul. On any
other day, I would have backed down, I would’ve mumbled my
apologies and darted away like a minnow before the shark. Today
wasn’t any other day. I'd just found out that without my permission
someone had contracted me to marry them.

Despite
the fact his gaze was as challenging as a gun to the head, I
squared off my jaw. “Just because something is tradition, doesn’t
mean it’s right.” Arguing with this guy was exactly what I
shouldn’t do. I’d already seen how everybody else was treating him.
He was either royalty or something more important. In other words,
far, far above my station.

He shot
me the kind of look that said I was nothing and knew nothing. “The
Foundation has already given you much, newfound one, and they
deserve your respect in return, not your ire. Presumably, you were
brought back to life, and the taxpayers and citizens of the
Foundation have funded you ever since. The least you can do is
respect our beliefs.”

I could
feel my anger melting away. I tried to hold onto it – if only
because of the arrogant look glinting in his eyes – but I couldn’t
deny his reason.

The
future sure had given me a lot, and if the least I could do was
whine less, then so be it.

That
wouldn’t mean I’d drop this.

There
had to be a way to fight this betrothal.

His
expression was the epitome of disgrace, his lips drawn thin, and
his piercing pale eyes narrowed. “If I were you, I would ignore
your betrothal; you clearly aren’t worth such a sacred
contract.”

With
that he turned and started talking to the alien.

I stood
there stunned.