Prototype Dorian

31.

Three days to NovaTopia

The first step of my plan to find Lara is something I did not tell General Caelum: General Lorensky's comm device. He gave it to Lara and me the last time we came here, and I've kept it. I open my backpack and take out both generals' devices. Seeing them side-by-side, it's clear General Lorensky's is a rushed, amateur prototype. He must have made this himself, while General Caelum has the Tower's bots at her disposal.

I push the button on General Lorensky's device. I know it will take him a while to respond—he took hours last time—so I proceed with the plans I shared with General Caelum: checking out places like bars, motels, and shops near the Tower. Since Lara needs to eat and sleep, it's likely she visited one of these spots yesterday. I don't have a photo of Lara to show people, but I'm hoping some shopkeepers will recall Lara after I describe her. How can they not remember her? She radiates such vibrancy and sincerity, an energy seldom seen on Ground Earth. An energy seldom seen anywhere.

She is unforgettable.

The sheer number of shops lining the streets makes my plan seem daunting, but I have to start somewhere. I walk into the first bar facing the Tower. The wall is burned, and the broken windows are precariously secured with tape. I wonder if a brawl happened here recently, or perhaps not-so-recently and the owner has not bothered to repair anything.

I read the prices on the menu board, and my jaw drops. The amount of money I have with me won't even cover one meal. Is the inflation this bad? Or is this bar overpriced because it's right next to the Tower and they're ripping off the soldiers coming here during their break?

As I am staring at the atrocious prices, a giant, burly man shifts into my view. A bushy beard obscures the lower half of his face.

"What can I get you?" he asks.

"Uh, I just want to ask a question. Have you seen a young woman yesterday?" I lift my hand to somewhere below my eye level. "Around this height, light-skinned, long black hair, usually in a ponytail, and, uh, probably looks too proper to be from this area."

The man's brows furrow. "She a soldier?"

"Uh..." We were all wearing the NovaTopian uniform for the closing ceremony, but I don't know if Lara changed out of it before leaving. Given how suddenly she left, maybe not. "Yes, she's a- she's a soldier."

"Can't help you there. We serve too many soldiers here to keep track. There weren't soldiers yesterday at all, anyway. Some kind of Tower event going on."

Wait, were they all watching the closing ceremony? I know Tower residents love watching the Selection, but I didn't expect the soldiers to be interested too. This is good information; with no soldiers roaming around yesterday, it will make it easy for people to remember Lara in her NovaTopian uniform. I thank the shopkeeper and move on to the next shop.

I ask the same question in every shop I enter, refining my description of Lara each time. Like the first shopkeeper, all of them guess if Lara is a soldier, with most pointing out how there weren't any of them yesterday. Lara's prim attitude coupled with her skin tone must have screamed 'NovaTopian soldier'.

As I go from store to store, I avoid the actual soldiers. Knowing now that they watched the closing ceremony, I'm sure many would recognize me, so I want to avoid looking like they know me while I'm inquiring about another soldier. My question is already making me suspicious, and a few shopkeepers have become hostile as soon as they realize I'm asking about a soldier. Occasionally, I throw in a few Spanish phrases to ease the tension. Tower residents only learn English, but many Ground Earth dwellers also speak Spanish—the language of the native dwellers from before the Last World War in this region—so I try to show that I am not from the Tower with some of the Spanish I grew up with.