Nova's Yaara Page 2
Slowly, others depart, in groups, pairs, or alone, and we find ourselves, two couples, each holding on to our partner as if to a life raft. I feel Jorn’s interest growing and he starts nudging me towards our room. “Good night, girls” I call over my shoulder as I hurry, laughing, to remain in his arms.
As an exact recurrence of last night, Jorn and I rush to undress each other, throwing garments all over the place. We fall on our bed, laughing uncontrollably, kissing wildly and shushing each other. After a while, we lie in each other's arms, utterly content. I hear Jorn’s hushed snoring sound, knowing that, as always, he had fallen asleep first. I collect my clothes off the floor, go to the pod’s washroom, throw them in the RM chute for recycling, and start running the air jet assisted shower. When I find myself staring into space, rehashing the last few hours in my mind, I curse and start soaping hurriedly, before the water jet stops. I dry myself quickly, wrap the towel around my body, and tiptoe across the common room back to bed. “You're cold” Jorn mutters, cradles my side and then mumbles something incoherent.
As soon as I get comfortable under the covers, the world rattles again, only this time it feels much closer. A nightmarish feeling of deja vu envelopes me, and I know I have to grab my kit and run to report for duty, however when I try to get up, I realize that I'm trapped under something heavy. I attempt to wake up Jorn, but he is eerily silent and still. When finally the blasting alarm goes quiet, I hear distant cries and moans, but still nothing from my best friend who is lying naked next to me. As I can't reach my kit, I try to examine him with my left arm, the one closest to him, to check his vital signs the archaic way, as we've been taught in case the scanners cannot operate for some reason, however my arm doesn't obey my brain. I try to move my fingers… nothing. I am able to squeeze my right arm across my body and check on my left one, only to clutch at something wet, warm, with sharp edges. I want to call for help but my lungs are compressed and all I can manage is a whimper. I feel faint and before surrendering to the inviting oblivion, I imagine seeing a shadow hovering over me.
I think I'm awake, because bright light filters through my eyelids, washing the inside in orange hues, however I don't want to open them. Please don't tell me anything horrendous, I don't want to know about my left arm, about Jorn dying, about the destruction… I just want to go back to sleep. “She's awake” someone calls out as several arms and machines continue poking and prodding me. Fate! I curse to myself and open my eyes. ”Just leave me alone” I say but nothing comes out of my mouth. I'm in sickbay. Ayesha, the physician who is advising my current rotation, is busy looking at the screens over the bed. When she's done, she glances at me and then returns to check the medcomp. I instantly sense that something is bothering her. My heart sinks because I'm certain that she's trying to figure out a way to tell me that Jorn is dead or something just as dreadful. I refuse to hear it, so I close my eyes again and pretend to be sleeping. “You know you can't fool the medcomp, right?” I hear a somewhat amused, deeply soothing voice right next to my right ear. I try to turn that way and immediately regret it. A wave of nausea overcomes me and I dry-heave for a few seconds. A warm hand is supporting my forehead, and the voice tries to mollify me. “Take deep breaths and try not to make sudden movements” it says. I finally catch my breath, and try to do as instructed, inhale deeply, but then I start coughing and wheezing. That's it, I decide. I'm out, and thankfully lose consciousness.
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When Yaara was much younger, she came upon the term ’doctor’ in one of the historic files. Her father explained at the time that on Earth, having a population in the billions rather than Nova’s thirty two thousands, there were many institutions of higher education, where people studied beyond basic schooling. Those who studied for many years and passed rigorous tests, were honored with the term ‘Doctor’ which originated from an ancient word that meant ‘to teach’. On Nova, on the other hand, there was no higher education beyond the age of seventeen, and members learned their skills by studying the theory, taking computerized exams, and apprenticing with the more experienced scientists.
(From ‘Yaara and Jorn’ by Sela)
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The second time I wake up, I'm feeling much better. My left arm in a molded cast, no one is poking me, the room is quiet and dark, but my right hand is still being held by someone. Just like the last time I woke up, I suddenly remember. I sneak a glance to see who it is, and find a big shadow slumped in a chair next to my bed. I try to release my hand but the fingers holding it contract and won't let go. “Hey” I try to yell quietly, not wanting wake any other patients. The shadow moves and I see white teeth grinning at me. “Welcome back” he says. “Do I know you?” I ask, confused. “Sure” he replies cheerfully “you made me promise not let go of your hand. I've been waiting for you to wake up and release me from my oath” he smiles. “Who are you? Where is Jorn? Is everyone okay? What ab...” I start firing questions at him before he cuts me off and says “if Jorn is the guy whom I found naked in your bed, than yeah, he's fine. He has a concussion and was sent to his parents’ pod to rest” he says with a meaningful tilt of his head. “You were the only one who was injured more severely; your hand was reconstructed, but…” But what?” I shudder. “Don't worry about it now. The physician will arrive soon to check up on you. She'll explain everything. Would you like me to stay?” I feel my face redden as I notice that he's still holding my hand. I can't believe I was so childish that I asked a stranger to hold it. I pull my fingers from his, and say “I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have imposed, I don't know what possessed me...” I mutter embarrassed. “Don't feel bad, it's pure instinct. I was just relieved that you were able to talk once I removed the metal partition off of you. Really, don't give it another thought; it's in my job description”. He gets up to walk away and just as he's about to leave, I remember to ask in a hushed voice “what's your name?” “Orin” he replies “get some rest” and leaves.
I can't go back to sleep; I can’t stop thinking about Orin’s smile and warm, velvety voice. I don't even know what he actually looks like because it was dark, but I feel a crush coming on. After all, I have a vacancy since the medic thing crashed and burned… I love the little garden of crushes that I secretly cultivate in my heart; little dots of excitement that light up my life like Kadupul flowers, and disappear just as quickly. I welcome the short-lived flame that burns in me for a while, despite the inevitable heartache.
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395.4.20 - two days earlier - Jorn had just finished his work day in the Linguistics Department, and was walking along the quiet, glistening metal corridors of zone 11. Morning seemed ages ago, and he was musing that LingDep had to be the most boring rotation of them all - and from his personal experience, the competition was quite stiff. He couldn’t wait for it to end in four months, and not because he was looking forward to his age group’s two years with the Police and Defence Force, but because then he would be that much closer to finally being able to devote most of his time to his art; sketching and painting. He knew it meant that he would have to choose a more menial occupation that wouldn’t require apprenticeship but would also offer shorter work days. Probably manning the RMs,as the ReMoleculizers practically ran themselves. On the bright side, at least his current rotation left him some time for his artistic outlet, especially because Yaara’s rotation in sickbay11 involved night shifts. Unfortunately, that also meant that they hardly saw each other lately. Invariably, he felt a warm smile appear on his face whenever he thought of her. When the old files from Earth mentioned ‘soul mates’, they probably referred to the bond between him and Yaara, he thought as his heart picked up its pace just thinking of her.
Jorn continued walking towards the pod that they had both shared with Lorivahl and Edana for the past three years, since that Advancement Day on which they had all turned seventeen. That was the day that Yaara and he left their Younger Class Dorm in zone 5, AKA dorm5 and moved to the Upper Class Pods’ Clusters in section 11. Not long after
moving to UCPC11, the two started sleeping together; they dismantled the partition between their two tiny rooms to form a large one, moved their two narrow beds together and have been enjoying each other for over two years now. They were no longer the kids who met when they were fourteen; Jorn grew into a handsome, warm young man, not much taller than Yaara, with long lustrous black hair and black eyes, whereas Yaara became a spirited, confident young woman who was never aware of the effect she had on others. She no longer sported two long braids but rather a chic short-cropped haircut that sometimes dipped over her grayish blue eyes and which she unwittingly blew away from her face whenever she was frustrated. As far as Jorn was concerned, she was the most beautiful person on Nova, inside and out, and he often spent time pondering if there was anything he wouldn’t be willing to sacrifice for her. The only thing that ever came close was his family, but he reminded himself that she loved them as much as he did, and the question was moot.
Their new pod-mates soon became their closest friends, and together with Leenar, Edana's girlfriend, who abandoned her own pod in favor of sleeping on a narrow bed with her lover, were practically his second family. Leenar and Edana were the sweetest girls, both shorter then Yaara, both kept their hair long; Edana’s coal black in dreadlocks, whereas Leenar's blond and straight. He loved watching them as they sat, head to head, in the common room, their hair mingling together like an exotic flower, and had always promised himself that one day he'll immortalized it on paper. Their third friend, Lorivahl, lived alone in his small room, and though he did have occasional trysts or short term infatuations, he never felt close enough to any of the young men and women who caught his fancy, to share his bed for more than one night.
Sex was a big part of life at UCPC11, but by no means the only one. These three years were meant to acquaint them with all the opportunities that Nova has to offer by having every one of them spend several months in each department. They held dance parties in their RecAr almost nightly, and most UCs spent their free time at the many clubs that the Novans organized over time. Yaara had been practicing regularly at the Mixed Martial Arts club since before he met her, whereas he himself made the Visual Arts Club his second home. The only hangout they could enjoy together was the Cinematic Club, where they watched not only clips that were made by Novans, but also very old ones, from Earth, that have always captured his imagination.
Life of a nineteen year old on Nova was very good.
Yaara had just finished her shift in sickbay11, and was walking along empty corridors toward her room. She was exhausted, but the kind of languor that made her feel fulfilled. She absentmindedly brushed her bangs away from her eyes; she liked the feeling of running the silky strands between her fingers. She was thinking about the fact that Ayesha was an excellent advisor, and always made sure she would get an opportunity to observe, if not treat, interesting cases. Though she had already all but decided that her future is in medicine, there was still a remnant of doubt if she wouldn’t be happier in HisDep. After all, she would never get tired of researching Earth’s history, would she?!
Yaara went straight to the pod’s washroom, threw her scrubs in the RM chute, and allowed herself to enjoy the full allotted five minutes of air jet assisted shower. She wrapped a towel around her body and continued to their palatial bed. It was 0100 and Jorn was fast asleep. “Finally” he mumbled and pulled her closer to him. She turned her back towards his warm body and curled in his arms, waiting for sleep to envelope her. When she found it illusive, she rolled around and began kissing Jorn’s neck and hugging his slender body with her right arm and leg. She loved running her lips along his long smooth, warm and velvety neck. Jorn, who had always been eager to please her, responded happily despite still being groggy, and after their heavy breathing subsided, she was finally able to fall asleep.
As always after night shifts, she had the following day off, so when morning came, she took the Public Transportation System to visit her father’s department. The PTS ran through a sub level between the outer, first level, where most everyday life took place, and the inner, second level which was geared more towards utilities. She entered Deelahn’s small office, kissed her father and began reading historic files. Her father, being the department head, practically raised her on those files and she often found herself being drawn to the relatively small branch. Life on Earth frightened yet fascinated her, and the History Department was set in place mostly to remind the Novans of past mistakes, and how to avoid them. Between the old clips that she watched with Jorn, and the files she often read at her father’s office, she had quite a good grasp on the reasons her ancestors left their home behind. Though Holohall units were available for anyone who wanted to experience the beauty of Earth before overpopulation, pollution and the last two wars destroyed most of it, all too frequently she came upon some atrocity that reminded her how lucky she was to have been born on Nova.
As Yaara was browzing arbitrary files on medicine on Earth, she came upon a report about sexually transmitted diseases, and an involuntary shudder went through her body. She knew that unwanted pregnancies were no longer a problem on Nova ever since the formation of the Progeny Department; eggs and sperm were collected and all twelve year olds were implanted with a hormones’ regulator. However the idea that sexual relations posed other risks if precautions weren’t taken, stunned her. Yet another reason to be thankful for the founders, she contemplated.
When Yaara return to their pod, the others were already in the common room. The mob, as the five of them referred to their little close knit group, made a point of meeting every evening in their common room where they would rehash the day’s events and wind down together. However, since Yaara’s rotation included occasional night shifts, she had missed several meetings lately and was happy to catch up with her friends. It appeared that Lorivahl, who was more than a little obsessed with clothes, has taken upon himself to design new outfits for the group; very short strappy dresses for the three young women, Yaara’s in gold, Edana’s in white and Leenar’s in teal, which they immediately put on enthusiastically. Lorivahl glanced at Jorn and said “I know you would never abandon your tragic black jeans and tee shirts, so I didn't bother ordering anything for you. I hope you don't feel left out, sweetie” and blew him a kiss. Jorn laughed in response, ran his hand over Yaara’s bare back and said nothing. “...and the pièce de résistance, drumroll please… my new white jalabiya!” He finished, flaunting his floor length gown, adorned with gold strands, into which he changed on the spot,. Dressed in their new apparel, they walked together to the RecAr, where most of the UCs were already dancing. The mob joined in with all the carefree blitheness of youth.
It was well after midnight when Yaara and Jorn returned to their room, where they undressed each other hurriedly, and fell ecstatic on the bed. A perfect ending to a perfect day, Yaara thought groggily before her eyelids grew heavy and she fell asleep in Jorn’s arms.
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I must have fallen asleep at some point because the next thing I know, an overly cheerful technician wakes me up, chattering lively. I grumble, but then apologize because he’s only trying to help. Ayesha arrives, checks the multiple screens surrounding me, takes a seat on the edge of my bed and looks at me quizzically. She then takes hold of my hand and says “listen Ya’ara, something happened to you last night” I roll my eyes mentally, duh, I'm in sickbay. Of course something happened to me. However she plows on “your left arm had a compound fracture but has been reconstructed successfully. Now, what concerns me is this; to say that your brain activity is unusually high, would be an understatement. We don't know whether it's something that happened yesterday, or if it has nothing to do with your injury and has been gradually happening over time. Our last scans of you are nine months old, but there should have been other indications before now, so at this point, our working assumption is that it occurred suddenly” she finishes and gives me a few moments to collect my thoughts. “We'll need to run more tests over the next few months at least, bu
t there is no reason for you to stay in sickbay if you promise to report to me every evening at 1800 for a follow-up. The Medical Department will work out the details with the rotation management, and if needed, I will transfer your file to the PDF when the time comes. You will be excused from your rotation with me for the time being, just until you acclimate”. Ayesha knows me well enough to recognize that I'm mentally trying to find a loophole, so she quickly adds “this is not negotiable!” and I acquiesce. “Who was the man that held my hand last night?” I inquire but she seems confused. “I was reconstructing your left arm, which I have to say is healing extraordinarily fast, if that's what you mean…” she hesitates. ‘No, the one who saved me and stayed by my bed all night, he said his name is Orin” I continue, “he held my uninjured hand the entire time”. Ayesha looks worried and says, “I don't remember seeing anyone holding your hand, but if you want, I'll ask around if anyone saw anything”. When she returns later in the afternoon, she appears even more concerned. “No one remembers this Orin, so I checked the feed...there was no one holding your hand, dear” she says gently. I don't know why she would lie to me, but nothing will convince me I was imagining him. ”The shock may have triggered a hallucination but I don't feel comfortable discharging you in light of this new development”. “Nah” I try to muster as much cheerfulness as I can “I must have been dreaming... sorry to have worried you”. She looks at me dubiously, but lets the subject drop. The following morning, I'm discharged, my reconstructed arm in a physical therapy sling but already feels as if nothing had happened. My parents try to convince me to return with them to zone 1, however I need to see my friends, and luckily I have the excuse that I’m required to report daily to Ayesha. I'm relieved to hear them concede that it would be too far for me to travel back and forth in my condition, because I want to refrain from offending them. They accompany me to my room; someone has replaced the partition between Jorn’s alcove and mine. After fussing a little and making sure I have everything I need, we say our goodbyes and as always, I kiss them and promise to talk with them more often.