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`Through all these
monumental events, hovering fears and challenges to our lives, only one incident had been greeted with joy and tears of relief…
It was when, over in Nambib, the murky grayness of clouds and ash faded. Then
the pale visibility focused and grew in strength until… colors returned to us!
Radiant, glowing, colors of life!
Picture Courtesy of: FantasyArtDesign.Com
Like a rainbow of benediction,
the spectrum over Nambib mantled over, until it reached everywhere. It was a
moment, everyone living will never forget. – Their sign of victory! Armed
with optimism, society began the long haul of recuperation.’
Vessa,
after musing on this uplifting acceptance, tiredly went to bed.
F
Days later, during breakfast,
Vessa retrieved the daily news-discCorder journal, “The IV Clarion”,
to check out the latest developments. One such viewlist reported:
… The
Bartizan
Space Beach was repaired today, enabling the UNC
(United North Continent) to continue cleansing of the magnetosphere… (Vessa pressed the viewdown arrow to scan) …More
frozen stones of KN-240 found embedded in… (scan) …Plant-Sensitivity Evaluation… (scan) …Expedition
to Nambib to rebuild… (scan)… - Vessa was about to turn off the diskette and leave for work when this headline
caught her eye, …”Solution to Optical Oddity!”
(excitedly, she read on) …Dr. Wosna, a researcher in the field of Chromatic Refractioning,
says he may have discovered a way to repair the spectrum anomaly. He goes on
to relate, “It may be possible to reverse the effects of the sun’s transmutation…”
Vessa had read enough. She didn’t need to read the
technical know-how to know what this meant to everybody. Ecstatic at the prospect
of what she just read, she jumped up and ran to the hallway viewtron. Ruefully,
she went over her features and thought, “To look like myself once more. It
would be so comforting… so right.”
Vessa wasn’t alone in her desire to return to the former life. Everyone
had either gone through or were going through an identity neurosis.
The problem was, even though, they enjoyed a colorful, world again, the color code had altered drastically –
the Nambib Spectrum displayed Negroid pigmentation as light; and Caucasoid-type tones as dark.
The skin shades, were the same blends of; white, yellow, red, brown and black (only divergent).
Eye color was odd matched too. Brown and black eyes; were now blue or
violet or pink, whereas previous tints of blue or green; were now gold, gray or black.
Only breed characteristics and hair follicle textures remained the same. In
a word, to quote the extreme; black was white and day is night. It was all so
peculiar. It was visually nerve-racking.
Of course, the tint-transformation encompassed all things on the planet, but only the people had a problem with it. In fact, since the spectrum’s deviation, Psychiatric Clinics were brimming with
people who just couldn’t handle it! For instance, there were those, for
whom the novelty hadn’t worn off yet – those people reveled in `the big
switch’! For others, the manner of acceptance was downright strange,
like the time a group of men ran down the street – naked – shouting, “freedom!”
And yet, some responses were sadly dangerous, like those who committed mass suicide. (As though we hadn’t had
enough of death!)
But the generic crowd’s attitude was, “to heck with it all and just take it one step at a time.” Vessa was among the latter mind-set. “Yes,
it was hard to accept, she reasoned, “but really, what other sane choice do we have?”
That was Vessa’s conclusion, as she looked at the white woman staring back at her in the viewtron. Vessa knew she was the same black person that had been born to Vessara and Milton Pajalez. Only the veneer had changed. But, if Vessa could change her
skin color back – she would.
With one last look around her ranch duplex, she left for her job in the city.
Courtesy of: FantasyArtDesign.Com
“ Are you sure?” Vessa
was quizzing her co-worker, Helen O’Bell, about the rumor she just disclosed.
“Would I lie? Helen feigned shock, then said, “Don’t answer that.” Vessa laughed, agreeing
with Helen’s irony. Helen and Vessa had both been working for Jackstan & Younger Marketing Assoc.
for about eleven years now. So, they knew each other before the S.E. (Spectrum
Era), as it was called now. Helen was as black now, as Vessa was white. And like Vessa, she took it all in stride. Vessa
had told Helen, she made a pretty good transition with her chocolate skin and gold eyes.
Helen’s response was a smug, “I know.” That suitably
described Helen. When she was white, she was perky. Now she’s black, we call it sassy. But a rose by any other name…”
Helen, a graphic designer, had always been the super-snoop of the agency, and seeing how her antics had not differed,
Vessa thought how comic it was, that instead of a petite, white woman who always had her nose in the office gossip, now it
was a little black one running about. Helen was saying, “Honestly, I got
it from a reliable source, we got the UNC contract, for the LaserVidifiers Campaign.”
“Well, that is great!” Vessa admitted enthused. Although,
she wasn’t too surprised at the news.
Jackstan & Younger was a prestigious Advertising Agency. They had been around
since the early 20th century. Rimal Jackstan and Jerom Younger, the
heirs to the multi-billion dollar firm, were among the first to rebuild after the cataclysm.
It was no secret the company wanted to score the UNC’s latest venture. In the marketing circuit, J&Y had become known for aggressively spearheading many a
public awareness project. Especially for the varied interests relating to environmental
issues.
“And guess what else?” Helen looked ready to burst with the next info she was telling… Oh, such joy to be in the know!” Helen couldn’t even wait for Vessa to respond. She blurted out, “There’s a strong chance that either Brais or you will get the job. Isn’t that sweet?!”
“Me!” Vessa responded with skepticism, adding, “Now, I know you’re just blowing smoke Helen.”
“No, I’m not!” Helen was really affronted this time, as she explained, “You know Maxine, Rimal’s
assistant?” Vessa nodded. “Well, she was the one who told me. In
fact, she feels pretty sure about it…”
Vessa still had a problem digesting this part of the tip. It had to be
just gossip. Vessa toned out Helen’s rambling as she considered the possibility.
– True, she was good at her job. And she had brought in two major accounts. But Vessa knew she was only second string to the big hitters in this outfit. While Brais Smith, on the other hand, was a major player. He had five leading accounts. And he had nepotism on his side
(being Jerom’s cousin). That fact, made him even more pompous and conceited. And he was only charming when he had to be… But he was an excellent publicist. Vessa just didn’t care much for him on a personal level. Too bad the feeling wasn’t mutual.
Helen was still droning on about her viable sources, when she was interrupted…
“Afternoon ladies… what’s up?” It was Brais. He stood in the doorway, muscular, blond and mischievously cool. The hooded, dark pink eyes hinted that he’d heard some of their conversation. He sat on the edge
of Vessa’s desk. That irked her… since there were two, vacant transit-chairs
in the room. It must have shown on her face, because Brais inquired, “I’m not interrupting anything important,
am I?”
“Would you leave if you were?” Helen quipped bluntly. Those
two didn’t quite gel. Brais had at one time, sabotaged an opportunity for
Cordan O’Bell (Helen’s husband), to assist in a feasibility study for J&Y. Brais had favored and recommended some wench, whose only qualification over Cordan had been, `a bedroom bargain’. So Helen, was more or less – politely hostile
around Brais. It was also another reason, why she wanted Vessa to get the UNC
account.
“…Probably not.” Brais responded, unfazed by Helen’s question, then proceeded
to ignore her altogether… “I have two *paylars to the KaKolri Ballet for tomorrow night. Want to go?” he asked Vessa.
“Sorry… I already have plans for the weekend.” Vessa declined. Her other plans included pottering in the garden and the yearly perming of her hair. Actually, she would love to go to the ballet… just not with Brais.
Helen, satisfied at Brais’ rejection from Vessa, flaunted a smirk as she excused herself. Brais was glad to see Ms. Ill-will leave. Nonetheless, he
was getting uptight with Vessa. He had specifically procured these paylars for
her favor from Jerom. And transferring paylars was no easy thing! Brais had heard that Vessa liked that tippy-toe stuff. And
he saw a chance to score. “But still – she refused to go out with
him … again! Brais thought,
“Either she’s trying to give me a complex, or she’s playing too
hard to get.” The thought never crossed his mind that Vessa may not want
him. Out loud, he said, “So, who’s trespassing on my territory?” The deceptive joke didn’t quite mask his annoyance.
“I don’t know … where’s your territory?” Vessa replied adroitly. She was a mature 30 year old; and very independent. She had
no use for his machoistic mental games.
Brais
could see he was getting nowhere. He’d have to stroke her a different way. Normally, he’d put this uppity piece in her place and step off. But something about this woman pulled him. She was a challenge.
And looking at her, he had to admit, “Black or white, she was all that! - ‘cause baby had back!”
Brais’
desire for Vessa halted any verbal insult he was tempted to lash out with. Instead,
he put forth his best, contrite face, “I meant no offense Vessa. So why
do you keep buggin’ on me?”
“Does
out of control ring a bell?” He knew Vessa was referring to their one and
last date together. He chuckled at her indignation…
“So,
the urge surged!” he explained self-satisfied, “It’s my nature. You
gonna hold my nature against me, baby? I’m just being a man.”
Vessa
humphed at that excuse, then retorted, “No Brais, a man can control himself. You
weren’t being a man. You were being a man-dingo!”
After
that critical label on him, Brais just sat there looking at her. Little did Vessa
know, that he was imagining, grabbing her and finishing where he left off that night. But Vessa was tired of this cat and
mouse scenario. Very curtly, she told him, “I really have a lot of work
to do. What else do you want?”
“What
are you offering?” he countered suavely, as he leaned over her desk. His
rose-hued eyes had the expressive mannerisms of a black man. It was a sensual,
devastating combination.
But
without so much as a blink, Vessa announced, “The door.”
Next week started out, “gratifying”! The word certainly summed
up this turn of events. It was true what Helen had told her. Rimal Jackstan relegated the LaserVidifiers account to her! “Hooo-baby! It’s celebration time now!” That’s
where Vessa was headed now. Over to Auggie’s place.
When
she’d scope-phoned (life-size visual & audio projection) the good news to Nanna Ti, her grandmamma decided to have
a congratulatory dinner this evening. Just a few friends and family. This was a big coup for her granddaughter and she wanted to show how proud she was of Vessy. (Vessa didn’t
allow anyone else to call her that nickname except Nanna Ti.)
Nanna
Ti had taken over the rearing of Augustino and Vessa, after their parents’ death in 2035. Their untimely demise happened while employed by the ENVIR Monitors
& Safety Corp. That’s where Vessara Mollings and Milton Pajalez
had first met. They both had the positions of Nullifants. A nullifiant had the hazardous duty of finding, appropriating
and liquefying all the 20th and 21st century(s)’ missiles and war apparati. Nullifiants also acted as supplement CIPs (Secret Agents for the Continent-Interior Patrol). They neutralized terrorists and civil strife situations. It
was in one such incident, where the Pajalezes, lost their lives. Augustino had
been seventeen years old at the time, and Vessy, fifteen. Their mother, Vessara,
had been Nanna Ti'’ only child. Ugasi Mollings, (Tina'’ husband)
had passed on years ago of ralinz ( a new strain of tuberculosis). Tina never
remarried. So the children became a precious responsibility. …Her joy.
Nanna
Ti, or Tina Mollings, as everyone else knew her; was the celebrated kinetics sculptor.
A vibrant widow, she had been born in 1982, which seemed ancient now. But
looking at her belied that perception. Even at 68 years, Nanna was spry and full
of enthusiasm.
Her
visionary philosophy, was a noted influence in both the lives of her grand-progeny.
Vessa could remember how, in her teen years, after her parents’ death, she would sit for hours and watch her
grandmamma create these wonderful, flowing designs of metal, water and minerals. Then
Nanna Ti would intuitively explain how everything had a relation to something: The
measure of motion to the wind; the physical form to intangible forces around it. Intangible,
but so spiritually real… like joy and peace. Ideals that her sculptures
relayed.
Some
of the architectural forms would sway, or rush forward or spin-up into a float-down.
Others would rise and fall like a heart song or swell and whisper like moon-tides.
Just by looking at them, one could tell… life was the inspiration.
To
Vessa and Auggie, and a number of others, Tina Mollings was a great lady.
Vessa had time to ponder
such memories, on the way to Auggie’s. The airwave traffic was extra tedious
and dragging, bumper to bumper. She could have gotten off the 6th
level airwave and levitated her, (now blue), TS-Ponturi (aero-insular vehicle) on her own, as she saw a few aviators impatiently
do. But reading the alti-gauge and looking in the downview mirror, changed her
mind. It was just too far up in the troposphere, to chance a crash down. Which is what could happen if the magnet-resistors malfunctioned. Only this morning, Vessa had the hydraulic redactor fixed. And
the magne`chanic said he still needed to regulate the thrusters, when the special chip came in next week. Vessa was glad he didn’t keep the little Ponturi shopside.
Then she would have had to use the TS-belt (which must be worn as standard equip when flying). But the belt was only useable for short distance intervals, in very low, 2nd level (biosphere)
altitudes. For gamma rays still seeped around the upper 13th level
(mesosphere). The belt’s icionic shield could not provide sufficient insulation. So it was discouraged against as a usual mode of transport. Vessa smiled, as she saw some people down below, using the belt.
They were bundled-up and hopping like sporadic bunnies, every third decameter.
“Yes”, she concluded, “better to conserve her energy and just drift along and enjoy the view.
And what a view it was! Vessa never tired of it. In spite of
the changed spectrum, it made for a lofty ride across the face of our larger, lime-green sun.
The golden sky with violet and scarlet clouds was exotically cosmic. Below,
was the cinematic view of a land of blue-soil, and oceans of purple and glittering-jet ice floes and turbulent black waves,
cresting with golds and coppery froth.
The unusual shrubs and trees spread everywhere in predominant shades of pinks, yellows and white. The rest of the fauna and flowers were innumerably prismatic, except the grass. The grass was black. And in all this contrast, only the frost
covered shore-stones were gray. Vessa thought, “How appropriate….
as a reminder of the cold, colorless reality, they almost got stuck with.
As she viewed the route to Auggie’s, she noticed there was much more vegetation, since she last came this way. “If we don’t watch out, the plants will take over the planet!” Vessa
mused, half jokingly, half serious. Apparently, the plant life benefited from
the new photosynthesis. Growth rate and the size was so phenomenal now. The harvest
of the eatable crops had staggeringly increased.
(But
there was a dark side to this good fortune.) Vessa and many others were leery
and refused to eat anything grown topside these days. Because the new plant life
seemed just that… alive!… And not just in the growing sense either. For plants seemed to have developed an acute mental and emotional awareness –
like sanctioned beings! Vessa shuddered as she recalled the eeriness of her first
encounter. She had just finished jogging in the country, when a vine had surreptitiously
coiled around her ankle and dragged her willy-nilly into some bushes! The vine
then knotted her amid its limbs to hold her immobile, while its leaves poked her everywhere.
But just as abruptly as the vine had caught her, it let her go. Needless
to say, she had been horror-struck! Just recalling the experience, made Vessa
jittery, “If the thing had kept me captive one minute longer, I’d have fertilized it!” she joked inwardly. But it wasn’t so funny at the time.
When Vessa reported the
incident to the authorities, she found out that such occurrences were happening all over the world. The UNC, (unable to keep the secret under wraps) and afraid that a misinformed public would run amok, issued a broadcast regarding our altered environment. A panel of the world’s leading botanists
and the Ministry of Agriculture, explained about the “harmless mutation”
and the horticultural benefits for all involved.
The government’s protocol policy, along with the UNC’s tactic
of glamorized productions and safety exhibitions, did the trick. J&Y was just one of many marketing firms, that was recruited to calm the
masses and inspire confidence. These promotions were such a success, that quite a number of people embraced the concept of
`pet plants’. (But this was something Vessa knew, she’d never get used
to. – she got rid of everything that had a root in her house!)
It also became trendy to
plant-accessorize. Maybe, that was why the architects had returned to the “fas-naturalism”
style…
Courtesy of FantasyArtDesign.Com
… Tall, tree-modeled
towers with plate-shaped roofs, dotted the cityscape. Then, there were the honeycomb
structures (J&Y was such a building). And the berry-cluster formations and the corn-cobb
skyscrapers. Many of the private abodes favored the multi-storied pancake designs
(like Vessa’s ranch-duplex).
Of
course, there remained the more conventional type buildings of hollow spirals and asymmetrical, tube forms. However, as diverse as all these feats of construction were, all the buildings had a few things in common: They all maintained solar generators; all
structures were equipped with element purifiers; and they were all built with the alloy, nurum. This durable, protective amalgamation of metals, added to the scenic clarity. The sheen of tinted walls glinted in
the sun.
“Who
could not think their world was still beautiful?” Vessa thought contentedly. She
was about to find out…
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