The immorally clothed women were at it again, bathing in the large pool of water, and it was still morning. It wasn’t good for Sophie’s new condition to be out in the sun for long periods of time. While she wouldn’t burn, it would cause her more discomfort than a human.
It was discouraging that she didn’t speak, and her eyes looked at me blankly. I got her to eat some food, but not much. I placed her in a chair by the glass doors while I sat outside. She was like a doll that didn’t engage. I hoped that Iry was correct when he said she’d be back mentally.
I was enjoying the beverage of coffee, something I learned pretty much all humans loved. I kept peeking over my shoulder at Sophie, who stared out blankly.
There were four house maidens in the water. Samantha was one of them, and she stepped out, grabbing a towel and drying off. She looked quirkily at me.
“It has to be a hundred degrees,” she said. “Aren’t you uncomfortably hot?”
“It is hot,” I answered. “I cannot run around mostly naked. It is no wonder you shave your body hair.”
Samantha laughed and before she sat down, she asked for permission. “May I?”
“Yes.”
“I think I told you I was a little younger than you when things happened to the world. I remember how great things were. I also remember how horribly things went when the world took a nose dive. Gone were computers, social networking, country music…”
While I wasn’t completely familiar with social networking, I recognized the term country music. “Country music?”
“Oh, I loved Country Music. My father played in a country band.”
“What is that?”
Samantha smiled. “Musical instruments. When a bunch of people all play them, it makes a song. I mean, we have country music, but nothing new. No one really writes new songs anymore.”
“My friend does. When I was in Angeles City, he plays country music on his…” I closed my eyes, paused to remember what it was called. “…guitar. It was beautiful. Music and singing are beautiful.”
“They are.”
“My friend Davis said before the world went bad, he was ripping charts in country music. I don’t know what that means.”
“Tearing up the charts?” she quizzed. “Davis. Davis McCall?”
My eyes widened. “You are his friend? You know him? Oh, how happy he would be to know a friend is alive.”
Samantha laughed. “I didn’t know him. I know of him. Davis McCall was a huge country music star. He’s in Angeles City?”
“Yes. He is the leader.”
“Wow.” She sat back. “I didn’t know that.”
“Now, you do. And you can go with me when I return.”
Iry’s voice surprised me. “When will that be?”
Immediately Samantha stood and nervously backed up. This caught my attention and I watched her reaction.
“I apologize. I must begin my workday now.” She grabbed her towel and scooted away.
Suddenly she went from having the demeanor of someone in Angeles City to being subservient in the presence of Iry.
“Aren’t you afraid your skin will burn?” I asked him.
“I am wearing sunscreen, Vala. It is a lotion you put on your skin that protects it from the sun.”
“So you use magic.”
Iry laughed. “Man invented it. I’ll get you some to put on Sophie so she can come outside.” He sat down and looked at my cup. “I wish I could drink that. It smells so good.”
“Why can’t you? I thought you were able to consume anything that came from the ground?”
“We can.”
“Coffee is Mother Nature’s speed, whatever that means. Davis said that. What happens if you drink it?”
“I… I don’t know.”
I pushed my cup to him. “Go on. Take a sip. If you get ill, I will call for a medicine person and have your maidens at your beck and call.”
“I’ll try it if you tell me what your issue with me is today?”
“Deal.”
Iry lifted the cup. “I hope it doesn’t have the same effect as horse blood. We don’t need another plague.”
I reached out and gripped his arm.
“Vala, I’m touched you’re concerned,” he said with a grin.
“No, I’m curious. I know horse blood is deadly to you, but how can it cause a plague?”
“You don’t know?”
I shook my head.
“It causes a parasite, or virus, in us that is highly contagious and deadly.”
“That is good to know.”
“Gee, thanks. Here goes.” He took a sip. “Hot.” He cringed. “Bitter.” Then he took another sip. “Okay, this is good.”
“How long until we know if it will make you ill?”
He set down the cup. Tapping his fingers in anticipation, he looked up to the sky as if waiting. “A minute.” He paused. “All good. I have a new drink.” He took another and I grabbed for my cup.
“Get your own please, thank you.”
“Your turn. What’s up with you?”
“Samantha.”
“You don’t like her? Then she will not—”
“No. No. See, it was how she reacted to you that made me realize you aren’t as nice as you try to act.”
“Oh, please.”
“Iry, she was scared of you.”
“You were talking about taking her away. Of course, she was worried, that situation never came up. I’m a nice Ancient.”
“You put off that Ancients are basically good.”
“We are,” he said.
“Then why do you kill our elders?”
“What?” He laughed and twitched his head. “We do not kill your elders.”
“You round them up like cattle, those who have reached a certain age, and take them. We never see them again.”
“Okay, you got me. We hang them, drain them, and enjoy their blood like aged fine wine.”
My mouth dropped open and I gasped.
“I’m joking, Vala. Bad joke?” Iry then started talking fast, really fast. “We don’t kill your elders. Honestly we don’t. Why would you think we do? That is absurd.”
“Why are you talking so fast?”
“I’m not. I’ll prove it. Not that I’m talking too fast, I can’t prove that. I can prove we don’t kill your elders. Wanna see?” He stood up quickly. “I’ll show you.” He sat back down. “You aren’t moving, you don’t want to see?”
“I do want—”
He jumped up. “Let’s go, I’ll show you.” He darted in the house, ran back out. “Vala, are you coming? I thought you wanted to see?”
I hurriedly finished my coffee and followed him. It was a difficult task, because for some reason, Iry had moved into a hyper mode.
*
We went by motorized vehicle, leaving Sophie behind in the care of Samantha. I trusted her, she knew Davis. Iry kept talking fast and rambling and then just as we arrived and the car stopped, he exhaled and said, “I feel kind of drained. I may need to eat.”
“Don’t look at me.”
“I wouldn’t dare. I’m still not convinced you aren’t a bitter meal.” He opened the door and stepped out.
When I stepped from the car, I thought at first we had gone to another one of the Ancients’ huge homes. There was a gate and a wall set before a huge concrete walkway. The building was set back and it was huge.
“What is this place?”
“You wanted to know what we did with your elders,” Iry replied.
There was a rusted old sign, which I imagine was perfect at one time. The grounds surrounding the building were clean and beautiful. The sign read, “Acria Springs Retirement Resort.”
“What is this place?”
Iry didn’t answer, he just led the way.
The moment I stepped inside, I knew it wasn’t a slaughterhouse for human elders. There were flowers everywhere, although there was an odd scent, almost like a cleaning solution. Elder humans were walking, sitting, all around.
“This is where we bring your elders,” Iry said. “They each have clean rooms, meals, the clothing that was left behind, and clothing that they wore before they lived in the Straits. But only those elders who lived in the Straits get this opportunity.”
“You don’t kill them?”
“No, Vala, we do not.” He walked down the hall. Following the sounds of voices and laughter, we stepped into a large room. Many elders sat in chairs and they were watching a television.
“I Love Lucy.”
“They have their lives back.” Iry folded his arms and leaned against the doorway.
A part of me didn’t believe it. It was a ruse. But it had to be an elaborate one. Then I heard someone call my name.
“Vala,” the voice was bright and I looked for where it came from.
“Miss Marilyn!” I said, shocked. I remember not many years before when she had left, happily waving to us as she rode off. I had thought we were saying goodbye forever.
She gripped my hands gently. Her skin was soft, and the folds and lines around her face reminded me of Marie. She wore a bright, flowered ensemble and even showed the lower portion of her legs.
“So good to see you,” she said. “How is your mother?”
“My mother has passed.”
Her brow crinkled and eyes filled with compassion. “I am so sorry. Lovely woman.” She clenched my hand once more. “Good to see you. It is. Stop by and sit by the pool with me one day.”
“I will.”
Another shake of my hands and a smile, then Marilyn returned to her chair next to her friend to watch the television.
“Did you feel fear from her?” asked Iry.
“No. I felt peace.”
“Exactly.”
“And all of these humans, you don’t feed from them?”
“No. The only time what we are comes into play is when they are ready to leave the Earth. We give them the option to leave or to turn and live on. Most say they’ve had enough.”
“Why, Iry?” I asked. “Why do you do this?”
“They are elders. All elders, no matter what species, should be respected for the life they have lived. A long life enriched with knowledge. They should be treasured, never discarded. They are responsible for continuing the human race, for teaching, we allow them to live the rest of their lives in comfort.”
Another eruption of laughter rang out and I looked around the room. They were happy and seemed content. My mind believed that every one of them were a meal, when in fact, they were having a much better life than anyone else.
It was an illusion I had created that was shattered. How much more would be? How wrong was I? For the first time in my life, I was truly confused about the Sybaris.