Such A Small Thing

The sun looked like a giant accusing eye as it slid across the unclean window spraying its radiance into the stagnant room. It knew, everyone knew, and it wouldn’t be long before they came for him. Icy currents of blood, driven by guilt, flowed through his veins. A wildfire began spreading throughout his brain. What was I thinking? You weren’t thinking that’s the problem. O shut up. The white Persian purred while grooming herself on the stale sheets of the hotel bed. He picked up his cup and then placed it back on the imitation wood table without setting it to his lips. My parents didn’t raise me to do things like this. You parents didn’t raise you at all. He swore out loud, the cat stared blankly at him. Again he picked up his glass this time draining the Scotch, no rocks. He like the way the single malt burned his throat and made his stomach warm, it comforted him, almost. The cheap plastic cup had the name of the hotel written in fancy cursive on the side, Frontier. Setting down the cup he noticed an ad in the complementary paper. MINER WANTED. A knock at the door interrupted the silence.

“Who is it?” he asked his voice cracking slightly.

“Room service!” can the over cheerful response.

“I’ll be right there,” he paced around the room trying to think if this could be some sort of a trick, a trap. He had ordered a meal for himself and the cat an hour ago. Picking up an unloaded pistol from the table his eyes once again rested on the big bold letters that dominated a quarter section in the paper. Miners Wanted. The though of being on the run for the rest of his life displeased him, he desired some sort of an escape, or disappearance. Or I could just bring te damn think back, but how would I explain that? Walk right up and say ‘here you go, this sort of fell into my pocket the other day.’ No that’s stupid.

He peered through the peephole to see a young man no older than 20 wearing a dark blue bellhop outfit complete with the stupid hate they always make them wear. For some time now the cheaper hotel chains had decided that a retro 20's look would make their crappy hotels a little more atmospheric and a more desirable place to stay while on vacation. And people could take pictures of their kids with the bellhops kind of like they did with the Royal Guards in London. Lame, he thought while opening the door and placing the pistol safely in his front pocket.

“Good afternoon sir. Mr Greene?”

Adam answered in the affirmative and the bellhop smiled a little too largely, showing off his crooked yellow teeth. The way he stared at Adam a little too hard made him more uncomfortable than he already was. He hoped he was just staring because it was the first time he saw a Genalt and not because he knew he had stolen property in his pocket.

“Here is your food sir, perhaps you would be interested in the outdoor activities that The Frontier has to offer, it’s a lovely day...”

“Oh, uh, no thanks. I’ve got a lot of work to do.” Please, please make him go away.

“What kind of work? What do you do?” Adam could tell by his tone that this was not just polite conversation anymore, this guy was really interested in him.

What a little pryer, he wanted to say, but instead said, “I study old war sites from the 18th to the 21st century. Literature, diaries, artifacts,” the last word left a sting in his mouth, “basically anything I can get my hands on that deals with warfare,” he knew he shouldn’t be talking to this kid but he didn’t want to raise suspicion either, so he kept talking.

“How fascinating! Have you been down to Baker’s Ridge? It’s only a short distance from here,” he said.

“Yes, I was down there earlier,” he’d had enough of this conversation, “now, if you will please excuse me, I’ve got some more work to do after I finish my meal,” he said and thanked him for the meal and handed him his tip. Adam resisted slamming the door after he left, something about the bellhop’s constant smile really bored into his nerves.

Adam thought back to his morning at Baker’s Ridge, which is dedicated to the memory of the famous war General of the same name. The site lies some 150 miles northeast of San Francisco where General Baker and his forces thought they had an advantage over the Chinese by setting up base on a steep ridge, then known as The San Andreas Ridge. The Chinese surrounded the ridge cutting off their supply line and eventually jamming communications. Not a single person survived, they fought until no American stirred in the silent January night.

During his visit he took the tour, after the last tour of Pearl Harbor he didn’t think it could get much worse, how wrong a person could be. The chipper tour guide rambled off facts and numbers that she did not fully understand, sometimes getting things wrong and mispronouncing the simplest of words and names. He hated her. Like most other tours he had been on, he strayed off form the rest of the group and did some exploring of his own.

He came upon a seemingly abandoned excavation site. Perhaps the archaeologists took a bread or the day off, whatever the reason he found himself alone. After Adam graduated, he spent several years working at similar excavation sites on Earth for a few weeks at a time. Entering the site, curiosity overtook his normal rational senses and he began searching for anything of interest. That is when he spotted it. At first look, he could not tell what it was. Upon further inspection and a little bit of digging, he uncovered a small pistol used for short range combat. He knew that he would be violating nearly a dozen laws if he took it, not to mention the ethics of history, but he had already violated several just by walking onto the site.

While turning these thoughts over in his head he heard someone yelling off in the distance. Spinning around, he saw someone approaching. What do I do now? Drop it quick! No! He slipped the gun safely inside his pocket and started towards the other person. A few yards away from him, the man spoke.

“Hey, what the hell are you doing here? Who are you?”

“Oh sorry, I wondered off form the tour.” Nice one.

“This is a restricted area, can’t you read?”

“I didn’t see any signs,” deeper and deeper.

“You need to leave immediately, the tour is that way,” he said pointing a finger to some abstract point in the distance. He was glad that the person was some lazy security guard and not one of the scientists working on the dig, he would have never been able to lie to them so easily.

Adam mumbled another apology as he walked as fast as he could in the direction the man had indicated. He left the ridge immediately and caught a shuttle back to his hotel. He ordered room service and now found himself picking his way through the meal. The cat seemed to have no problem finishing off the small can of tuna he had provided. He ordered cheese ravioli for himself, a dish he had learned to love in college while dating a cute brunette from the dorm across the street. What was her name again? Sally? NO you idiot it was Deborah. Or was it Sally? No matter. The food tasted bland and had the texture of a worn out tire in his dry mouth, almost like chewing on a rubber band. Adam felt a new appreciation for General Baker, he imagined that in his final hours on the ridge he felt as trapped and isolated as Adam felt now. Plus he probably didn’t even have bland Cheese Ravioli to comfort him. Getting nowhere with his food, the paper caught his attention once more.

M I N E R S W A N T E D
Are you tired of the same old 9-5 job? Tired of spending your life constricted by gravity? Do you feel lost? Trapped? Like your life has no meaning? Have we got an opportunity for you! Enter the exciting field of asteroid mining! Applicants must be single and over the age of 25 and ready to contribute to the growing field of asteroid mining. Those interested should be at docking bay no. 9 at the San Francisco Spaceport at 8am sharp, June 21st. No Exp. Necessary.

June twenty-first, he thought, that’s tomorrow. If he moved quickly enough he could be on a train to San Francisco in an hour and spend the night at the spaceport blending in with the other travelers. He did have experience excavating, that would be a bonus, and the gravity of Earth was beginning to become a burden. He retrieved the pistol from his pocket and palmed it nervously, then turned it over and over again. Such a small thing that caused all this trouble.

Actually, in the back of Adam’s mind, he knew that it wasn’t the gun at all that had caused all the trouble. His entire life had been a chain of conflicts with is parents and perhaps this was the catalyst that would finally break him completely of their control. Adam had broken the physical control years ago but now he was bound by the physiological control that his parents had over him and most of that had to do with family history. Adam was a Genalt, genetically altered after conception to handle higher gravities than the moon. His parents had also made a few vanity alterations. He could never change that nor did he wish to, however, he still didn’t feel like he had to like it. He was also a member of the Lunar aristocracy being born into one of the ruling families on the moon where he grew up. He always hated the way his parents and other members of the aristocracy treated others as if they were somehow lower than them, his green eyes burned with the memories of mistreated house servants that Adam knew on a more personal level than his parents ever would. That’s where the conflict began and continued when he decided to go to university on Mars. Even worse for his parents were his chosen topics of study; English and History. His mother’s voice echoed in his head ‘you’ll never learn the values on Mars that you need to succeed in the Lunar government! And what will English and History teach you?’

“A lot more than you know mom, a lot more...” he said out loud.

He turned his attention to the cat stretching itself out after its fulfilling meal. Natasha sat and stared at him, meowed, turned halfway around and laid down to take a nap. His mind drifted back to when he received her, as a gift, from his parents on his sixteenth birthday. He had been expecting a video game, or a book, or something a little more useful that a cat.

“What’s this?” he said cocking an eyebrow in confusion.

“It’s a cat, what did you think it is
darling?” his mother said in her condescending tome with her nose poking into the air like a rocket ship ready to take off.

“I can see that. Why did you get me a cat?”

“Settle down dear. Every great man has a great cat,” she said. Adam hated the sound of her voice, it sent chills up his spine, she and his father, were the embodiment of everything he strived to be, even at sixteen.

Great, now I’ve got a cat. It’s a perfectly good cat. Oh shut up, you know she’s trying to make you who you aren’t with the stupid thing.

Adam grew very fond of the cat as the years went by, but not because he was ready to accept that snotty rich image that his parents did. He did it for opposite reasons, to show that people can be who they are, it does not matter what kind of cat they have, besides, she kept his feet warm at night, what could he not like about that?

Adam made his decision, it was time to cut
the final thread connecting him to his parents and their world, he began to pack when a knock echoed through the hollow room. Oh shit. They’re finally here, they’ve finally come for me. Calm down you idiot, it’s probably nobody. No. They know. They’ve come for me! He said the first thing that cam to his mind to buy time.

“Hold on a minute, I just got out of the shower.” That should do, he thought. The knock came again, this time louder, more persistent.

Oh great they’ve got the whole force here to take me down, I’ve got to act fast. Adam! Don’t be stupid, there is nobody here for you, no one knows that you stole that gun, calm down. OK.

He looked out the peephole to see the same young man, this time without the bellhop clothes, his messy hair dangled like spiders’ legs into his eyes.

“Um... excuse me... Mr. Greene, um...” he said struggling to capture his confidence, “I was thinking that maybe you would like to take another look at, at Baker’s Ridge. With, with me... later this evening... I know some places that aren’t on the tour and...”

It’s that goddamned kid again! Jesus Christ, I need to get rid of him. I didn’t lead him on earlier did I? Yeah you did. Shut up, I was rude, what the hell is he doing here? He wants to take you on a date stupid. Oh God.

“Oh, gee, I would really love to. But I am leaving town first thing in the morning and I have a lot of work to do. I’m really sorry,” Adam lied.

He did not wait to hear what the kid said, he fastened the chain and made sure the deadbolt was secure on the door. It reminded him of all the times he locked himself in his room at home. Spending time with his parents was like shooting yourself in the foot, just to watch it bleed. Sometimes Adam wished he really could have shot himself in the foot, just to get away from there. He retrieved the gun that somehow managed to find its way back into his pocket and pointed it at his foot.

“Bang,” he said imitating a gunshot. He laughed.

For some reason this reminded Adam of all the arguments he had with his parents. “You should be more active in student government,” they told him. And n”Why are you wasting your time taking history and literature? You should be in political science classes, the Greene name must be carried on!” He never had good enough answers to these questions. They seemed to be fired at him with the rate of a machine gun. Maybe that’s why he was reminded. Maybe you’re just losing it Adam ol’ Boy. Maybe I am, Maybe I am.

Adam had just agreed with himself, for the first time ever. Thinking about his parents made him realize what he had to do. This life was not for him, he loved spending time on Earth studying, but eventually he would return home, or receive a phone call, or some other such nonsense. He would have to answer to his parents, always, forever. No way, he thought. When they died, he would have to take over for them. Take over their money, take over their status. It was more than he could handle. It’s time to get out. Yes, I think it is.

He removed the screen on his first floor window and threw his bags out. He turned to look at the Persian now asleep on the bed. “Goodbye ‘Tasha, you’ve been a loyal friend.” He would miss her, but an asteroid was no place for a cat. He caught freedom as he lunged out the window. In fact, Adam had never felt freer in his life, who knew but God what would happen to him, he like that feeling. He did not know what the rest of his life held in store, but he knew it would not be the life of a pompous aristocrat. Almost at once his mind cleared and he agreed that he made the correct decision. Even the gravity seemed to pull less at his large frame.

Before he knew it, he boarded the spaceplane that would take him from Earth to a freighter then to the asteroid belt. On the train rid, he had time to think. He thought about all the times he could have fled from his parents’ cold, deathlike grip on his life. He also thought of the ways he defied that same grip, by going to school on Mars instead of locally. By taking classes that only suited him. To Adam leaving was only the next stage in the estrangement from his parents. He finally felt like his life was taking a shape of its own, not one that would be molded by his parents. He was their heir no longer.

The train ride became a blur in his memory, the process of nailing the interview and being hired by AstroCo drifting silently to the back of his mind. Leaning back in the soft foamy chair, that formed perfectly to the shape of his buttocks, he remvoed the pistol from his pack. Examining it more closely, he noticed that it had weathered time fairly well, not a single scratch on its surface. He imagined that it belonged to General Baker and this transported him back in time seeing Baker’s final moments through his green eyes. That last desperate attempt to keep off the attackers, firing the pistol blindingly into the night. He could feel the chilly air brushing against his cheek, it felt much like ‘Tasha’s fur brushing against him. He smelled the salty air rushing in from the ocean to rejuvenate him. He felt the terror of the enemy entering his bunker, felt the panic when the gun simply made a clicking sound instead of the usual stinging noise. He experienced the release of a dying man, and it felt the same as when Adam had fled. He returned to the present and noticed the crisscrossing pattern on the handle of the gun and thought such a small thing...