One Billion Drops of Happiness (19 page)

Xandria was absent-mindedly stroking her Suppresitor. Although surreal at first, she had grown used to being without tasks to complete every hour of the day. Unemployment suited her.

‘Hey, what happens if you lose that thing?’ Agnetha asked.

‘How would that happen?’ Xandria returned.

‘I dunno, if you took it off and left it lying around somewhere. I do that sort of thing all the time,’ Agnetha said.

Xandria felt Lars watching her strangely but he said nothing. His eyes were the same colour as the lake in the sun, she noticed dimly. Most unusual.

‘We never take it off,’ she said carefully, avoiding Lars’ gaze. ‘It’s practically illegal. Or rather it was supposed to be until recently.’

‘You’ll get your gas now, I suppose.’ Agnetha said.

‘No.’ Lars growled emphatically. ‘It’s not going to happen, believe me.’

Xandria sat up.

‘What do you mean?’ she asked, her voice changing.

‘We will fight you until the very end,’ he said, barely keeping the hatred out of his tone. ‘Just you see. You people think you can force the rest of the world to degrade themselves to your level. Well you’re wrong.’

‘I don’t see what all the fuss is about, frankly.’ Xandria said, her palms clammy. Her heart was pounding defensively.

‘Shush Lars,’ Agnetha cut in, as Lars was about to speak. ‘Let her talk. We could do with some explanation.’

‘Look,’ began Xandria in a measured tone. She was learning rapidly how to act like her Suppressitor was working, even if it wasn’t. She realised her mother must have gone through the very same motions but had been a far more accomplished actress than her daughter.

‘What do you people have that you are trying so hard to protect? They’re just emotions. They’re not the be all and end all.’

‘But they are. They are.’ Lars snapped, springing to his feet, worry lines appearing on his forehead. He was severely agitated. ‘Don’t you see? Emotions allow us to be free; they allow us to express the sensations that dwell deep inside every one of us. Even you. Take them away and we’re robots of the state, we’re barely human. Emotions are what make the human life so enriched, without them we are nothing, just moving objects passing numbly through the world. You want that Xandria? You want to be responsible for killing off mankind? Because there’s absolutely no going back once it’s done. The world may as well fall out of its orbit. We’ll be doomed for, done, finished.’

Xandria was trembling, her mind ablaze. She felt so unstable. Her smooth façade had been just that, a sham. Without her Suppressitor, she was good for nothing.

‘I don’t know; I don’t know what to think,’ she whispered, her countenance completely changed in a heartbeat. ‘I’m so confused. I’ve seen it from both sides, but I still don’t know enough.’

‘I think being able to feel things develops the soul,’ Agnetha murmured, anxious that Xandria not get heavily upset. Mrs. Olsen would not be best pleased.

‘What’s the soul?’ she asked quietly.

‘Something intangible,’ Lars said, softening his voice and sitting down again. ‘Something deep inside you that nobody can take away. You spend your whole life trying to unearth it, trying to develop it and separate it from your earthly body. It’s the very essence of you that will remain forever.’

‘Nobody can take it away from you, you see,’ Agnetha told Xandria. ‘But you have to nurture it. Even someone like you who has been suppressed their entire life; you still have a soul deep down. But you’ve gagged it; it is still so small and unformed.’

‘I believe that our life’s mission is to improve the soul, to test and strengthen its resilience through the richness of life.’ Lars said shyly, as if he was conscious of revealing too much. ‘And that when you die, the soul is released from the earthly body and lives on forever. So sometimes I think to myself, why waste life on vacuous activities? What will you have gained when you leave this world? We come alone and we leave alone.’

‘It all makes sense, Lars,’ Xandria said nervously, uttering his name for the first time. ‘But it would be very difficult in New America to do just this and keep up with the country’s expectations at the same time. It would be grueling.’

‘Then maybe you no longer belong there,’ he said looking her in the eye. She shivered. ‘Life is too short. You have to look out for yourself. If you live life in keeping with the expectation of others, and all the while mourning lost possibilities and futures – what kind of life is it? Laugh in the exultation, weep bitterly at the disappointment, sure, but in the midst of it all you will have followed your heart, and there is no greater satisfaction in doing just that.’

‘Exactly,’ chimed Agnetha. ‘We only live one life – sometimes you wonder whether society and its expectations oppress people. I’m all for going back to caveman times when we lived according to our primal needs. Surely living an unorthodox life is better than to fit in with society and be unfulfilled. When we’re all dead we shan’t care anyway about how everyone else lived their lives.’

‘It all sounds so straightforward,’ said Xandria, struggling to take it all in. ‘I mean, I know more than ever now that my situation has to change. It’s only just hitting me that I can never go back there. What I’ll do instead I really don’t know. All I know is that strangely, I feel emptier now that I’m not protected against my emotions.’

‘It’s because you have none of the things that we over here rely on in our lives.’ Agnetha said sympathetically. ‘Friendships, love…’

‘Humans were not intended to be solitary creatures.’ Lars said. ‘But I daresay you’ll acclimatise. You’ve come a long way since you arrived, whether you’ve noticed it or not. Beneath that ice of yours, I know there flows a river.’

Xandria contemplated this privately while faintly noticing that the reflection of the trees upon the water indeed made a truly exquisite scene.

* * *

Following that day, Lars made a habit of quietly inviting Xandria on long walks around the lake whenever he needed to clear his head. Soon this became a daily occurrence. They walked in silence and very rarely spoke, Lars lost deep in contemplation while Xandria trotted meekly alongside him, finally noticing the natural beauty of the country she lived in, picking out in wonderment the nature and rich blend of colours. She often wondered what it was Lars was brooding on so deeply and why he kept asking if she would like to come. Perhaps he needed the pitter-patter of accompanying feet to fuel his thoughts.

She supposed he was thinking about the future of the world, about Ophelium and what was going to be done about it. She thought about it on occasion herself although she didn’t possess the accompanying rage that an Old World citizen might. In truth she was indifferent. This was a topic she did not need her Suppressitor to help her deal with. Sometimes she mused whether Lars needed her next to him to fuel his angered thoughts. After all, she was a New American citizen, a perfect example of why he loathed and despised that nation in equal measure.

Soon he did not even need to utter a word of invite at all. Eventually he would come by her room at the same time each afternoon and all he had to do was gaze at her intensely with a slight, almost beseeching question in his eyes. It became like a routine, but one that they certainly never spoke about. They had an unspoken connection; it both baffled and fulfilled her spirit in a way she had never experienced.

Xandria found the time rather therapeutic. Trudging along in silence, her emotions could become accustomed to remaining naturally calm for long periods of time. It no longer hurt her to be without her Suppressitor. She still wore it out of habit, but it now felt cold and foreign against her skin. Not once since the lake incident had it stirred.

She was wearing Old World clothes now too; hefty great articles which were neither comfortable nor made from the fibres she had grown up in. Agnetha had come to the house armed with bundles of garments and forced Xandria to try each one for size. She had made appreciative comments about her figure and the way the colours suited her, but Xandria could not understand her meaning.

She was still fairly aloof, even without her Suppressitor, but the ice was definitely thawing slowly.

After weeks of silence, the Old World Organisation finally spoke up. The announcement was due at four o clock that afternoon. Shortly before the appointed hour, the Olsens plus Xandria were gathered in the kitchen; the atmosphere was tense. Mrs. Olsen had forbidden her father to get angry lately because he had developed a nasty wheeze. It would do no good to anyone. He had joked that if his daughter wanted to enforce that rule then perhaps he should be borrowing Xandria’s secretly dormant Suppressitor. But no joke was deemed funny anymore; even the trusty old gems which had never failed to raise chuckles. The world had nothing to laugh about.

They all watched the mirage intently as it scrolled through images of Henry Excelsior and Bathsheba Ermez. The news team was merely passing the time speculating in the run up to Zachary DuPont’s appearance. Lars’ eyes narrowed.

‘Boy oh boy, look at them,’ Gabe said shaking his head sadly. ‘What good is it for a man to gain the world yet forfeit his soul?’

‘From a very famous book,’ Mrs. Olsen told Xandria, who was pleased she understood Gabe’s allusion after the recent conversation. ‘You must feel free to browse the books in the study at any time.’

‘Thanks,’ Xandria said, ‘maybe I will.’

Lars looked surprised but said nothing.

The mirage blew up into full size.

‘Ladies and gentleman,’ the announcement dictated in several different languages, ‘the time has come to present Mr. Zachary DuPont, head of the Old World Organisation.’

Usually there would have been applause but today it seemed inappropriate. DuPont appeared to step into the mirage, looking extremely tired. Xandria noticed he had severe bags under his eyes and his previously boyish curls were beginning to attract a tinge of grey.

Mrs. Olsen, who usually had a bit of a crush on him, was today too drawn and wan to make a quip in her usual fashion.

‘Good afternoon to the world,’ he started simply, looking rather nervous. This was most out of character; Zachary DuPont was supposed to be the pillar of the Old World, the inspiration, the insatiable fighting force against the tyranny of New America. Nothing was the same anymore.

‘Over the past few months I have been in direct contact with those leading the campaign for Ophelium in New America. I have both asked and unashamedly begged them to reconsider their devastating plans. To this day my pleas have been rebuked without any consideration as to the debilitating effect they will have on mankind.’

He paused to scan the conference room, presumably to glean the emotions of the audience. There was a resounding silence. He licked his lips and clutched the podium until his nail beds turned white.

‘Billions of you have been protesting in every country of the world. Billions of pained voices that it is my implicit duty to listen to.’

‘If we as a planet do nothing about this tyrannous threat, then millions of years of human life will come to nothing. The very essence of being alive shall be shamelessly robbed from us.

‘Our futures will be uncertain, and those of our children even more so. People: if we cannot feel, then we cannot live.

‘This, dear world, is why with a heavy heart I am compelled to declare war against New America.’

There was an eruption of noise in the background of the mirage. There were too many voices to make out, too many emotions. Closer to home, Mrs.Olsen had collapsed weeping in her chair.

‘Oh God, please no!’ she sobbed between her hands. ‘Tell me it’s all a dream!’

Xandria hesitated before putting a half comforting hand on her shoulder.

‘It’s no surprise,’ Gabe growled out of the corner of his mouth, without taking his eyes off the scene.

Zachary DuPont continued.

‘I recognize that this is the most drastic and abhorrent step to take, but we are left with no further options. Time is running out. We are fighting for the future of the entire world. This is a war like no other in the history of man.

‘We must now gather intelligence on how to proceed. This war will by no means be easy. It may be the bloodiest fight ever pursued in history. But you must think. Think that if we lost this war then the price would be too high to pay. We would ultimately be switching a light off forever both in ourselves and in the future of the planet.

‘Through your sorrow I ask you to reap courage. I ask you to unite with the rest of Earth as comrades. I ask for all able bodied men and women under the age of one hundred to enlist as soldiers.’

‘No…’ Mrs. Olsen whispered looking at Lars in agony. ‘No, no, no….’

Lars’ eyes were immobilised on the mirage, his jaw muscles clenched relentlessly.

‘As we approach this battle, the souls of our descendants spanning millions of years will be watching down from the heavens, spurring us on to defeat the malicious forces.

‘My thoughts are with every one of you in this time of crisis. I finally urge again that each one of you who is able, please, please, sacrifice all that you hold dear and join forces with us. I will lead you myself, from the front line of battle until as God wills, the future of the world is secured. Thank you.’

* * *

Effie Brigham’s mother had never felt so liberated. The day her Suppressitor finally died, she took it off and placed it under her bed. She knew that what she was doing was technically illegal, but what was the point anymore? People were rioting left, right and centre. Even the President had been dethroned and swept under the rug like a piece of incriminating evidence.

She had seen the mirages from the Old World. They had beamed them across the nation like proud parents showing off their precocious offspring, but their mistake was that this was not then. This was now. And people were reacting purely emotionally to such carnage. It was a spectacular fail on the part of the government.

Perhaps it was a particularly bad day of the week. Perhaps she was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or more likely, she was the last straw on the already aching camel’s back.