The Proxy

By Caleb A. Robinson

Cassandra gripped the handle on the side of the launch shuttle to keep her hand from trembling. The target ship’s silver and white panels gleamed in the ocean of darkness.

At least I could swim in the ocean. In space, Cassandra would be at the mercy of trajectory, and it was no short distance between the two ships.

“You could always descend with me,” came the guide’s voice in her helmet. “But you’d regret it for the rest of your life.”

Cassandra gritted her teeth and forced herself to take three deep breaths. She pictured Lacey’s smile. It would be worth it.

She shoved herself into space.

And drifted.

Her deep, unsteady gasps echoed in her helmet. The tether shuttle expanded as she floated closer. Her breath caught. I’m not going to make it.

Silence.

Only her heart managed a sound, pounding so powerfully it hurt.

Cassandra reached out, straining for the handholds at the bottom of the ship. Her gloved fingertips brushed the metal rung.

Not enough. She drifted past the ship.

“Help!” she screamed. Sweat clung to her face.

Something yanked her to a stop.

“We’ve got you,” came the voice.

She drifted back toward the ship. Within seconds, she was safely inside the airlock.

“You did it!” the instructor exclaimed. He unclipped the tether that had brought her in and set it on a hook.

Still panting, Cassandra barely noticed the congratulations of the other tourists.

“I missed,” she whispered.

“That’s half the fun of it,” the guide replied. “Didn’t your application say you were an adrenaline junkie?”

Cassandra stumbled to her seat. I’m not. But Lacey is.

The descent back to Earth was quick. Good thing, since Cassandra had a full afternoon of making memories ahead. It was strange to think it was still daytime in the US. After spending a couple of hours in space on the dark side of the Earth, the sun felt too bright.

Cassandra started with a lunch on the top floor of the Lang Energy Tower, overlooking puffy clouds. She ordered the most expensive steak on the menu and ate the juicy, marbled meat slowly, following each bite with a sip of soft 1973 Chappellet Cabernet Sauvignon, like Paula would.

Not an hour later, she took her seat in the balcony at the Downtown Lyric Opera. Benoît Batteux portrayed the tragic character of Don Carlos, his heavenly voice enrapturing her. By the end of it, Cassandra’s heart ached, and tears streaked down her face.

Next, she boarded the Artistico, the newest moving art gallery. The images and paintings had a hauntingly beautiful aura to them that stirred discomfort and awe deep within her stomach. The train completed its circuit before she could view all the pieces on Elenore’s list, but she got close.

Cassandra grabbed dinner at a hole-in-the-wall Chinese restaurant where she ordered a mountain of jiaozi. The tables were packed almost as tightly as the dumplings served in steaming bamboo baskets. All around, people conversed and joked in Mandarin. Cassandra closed her eyes as she ate the first dumpling. The pork and cabbage filling in the dumpling skin mixed perfectly with the soy sauce. Somehow, she finished all the jiaozi. For Michelle.

By the time Cassandra arrived at the hospital, she was positively drained. The backpack she’d snagged from her apartment weighed heavily on her shoulders. It was dark. Maybe someone far above the atmosphere was preparing to leap between spaceships.

She took a deep breath, preparing herself to enter the building where she had once felt imprisoned by the very people trying to save her.

That’s all over now. She titled her chin up and entered.

“Evening, Cassy. You look as healthy as ever,” said a security guard from behind his podium. “Who’s the delivery for?”

“Thank you, Brett.” Cassandra proceeded through the security checkpoint. “Just the usuals.”

She took the stairs to the third floor. Nurses hurried by as she made her way to a room at the end of the long hallway. She knocked twice.

“Come in,” came a frail voice.

The sterile smell of the room struck Cassandra as she pushed the door open. Lacey wore her usual blue and white hospital gown. She barely raised her head as Cassandra entered.

“How are you?” Cassandra asked.

Lacey faked a smile. “I’m okay.”

Cassandra unpacked her bag. We’ll turn that into a real smile.

Soon, the transfer device was ready. Diodes and wires attached to the two women’s temples and foreheads connected them to a tablet resting on the table. Cassandra tapped the screen and then reached for Lacey’s hand.

“Are you ready to go to space?”

Lacey nodded. Tears slid down her face.

Cassandra pressed the button to start the transfer.

The pain was instantaneous. Every joint in her body throbbed as if dislocated. She couldn’t move. All she could do was stare at the ceiling through Lacey’s eyes until Lacey had finished reliving the memories of the space jump.

Though the transfer took less than a second, it seemed like hours had passed before Cassandra could feel through her own body again. She choked back tears. She hardly even noticed the missing memory from this morning, swapped out for an experience of agony and helplessness.

“I’m so sorry you have to go through this,” she whispered to Lacey.

Lacey smiled her beautiful, kind smile. A real one this time. “It’s no worse than what you endured during your time here.”

“Maybe.” Cassandra absently thumbed the scar on her neck. The rest of the scars were hidden beneath her shirt. “I had some help, too. How many times did you bike along the river in my place?”

Lacey shrugged. “You’ve repaid me a hundred times over. You don’t have to keep doing this.”

“I know.”

Cassandra packed up as quickly as she could, despite the ache in her heart. She still had others to visit.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Caleb A. Robinson is on a mission to create as many fantasy worlds as he can so that dwellers of Middle Earth, Skyrim, Narnia, and other lands have somewhere else they can feel at home. His wizard-like occupation of writing code influences his sci-fi stories and helps put dog food in the bowls and books on the shelves. He lives in Oklahoma with his wonderful wife and two dogs.

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