Read Online Fiction River: Moonscapes by Fiction River - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Fiction River
Tags: Fiction
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straight in the center of the courtroom. A spotlight illuminated her small frame, dressed in prison grey for all to see. She kept her face rigid, refusing to show emotion no matter what the sentence.
The Popess, flanked by the twelve judges of the church, stood on a platform that rose high above Carrie’s head. It was built to intimidate. It was built to make sure the criminal understood there was no escape. A large screen projected the room to the worldwide cast.
The Popess stepped to the microphone to pronounce her sentence. “For the crime of refusing a marriage contract we find you guilty. For the crime of killing your assigned husband we find you guilty. For the crime of heresy against the church, and specifically against the holy office of the Popess we find you guilty of treason. You are hereby sentenced to spend the rest of your natural life in the service of the Plutonian moon, Charon. Your name has been stripped from our records. Henceforth, you will only be addressed as the Prisoner of Charon. You are allowed twenty-four hours to say goodbye to any family before your launch.”
The lights dimmed as the Popess and her judges exited. Then Carrie was returned to the cell. She had no one visiting. Her mother was too embarrassed by her daughter’s crimes. Friends had long ago abandoned Carrie when she refused to marry her assigned husband. It didn’t matter that he was seventy and she only twenty-two. It didn’t matter that he was a violent man who took what he wanted and never cared about her. All that mattered to her family and friends was that the word of the Popess was the word of God, and to go against the word of God was treason.
***
There was not a sound in the pod except the constant click and whir of the air filters and the bots checking attitude, adjustment, speed. Carrie peered out the view window situated above her sleeping couch. The stars rushing by had slowed in the past two days. They now appeared like a fine snow that covered the sky with a frozen, silvery moss.
Though happy to see the stars now visible again, they held little sway against the intense, boundless silence of this ocean of nothingness. Since passing Neptune nearly a year ago, this final leg of her journey had seemed longer than the previous seven years combined. Perhaps it was anticipation of finally starting her work.
“Braking,” a simulation of the Popess’ voice warned Carrie . “Secure restraints. Braking.”
Carrie laughed at the thought that she had any choice about moving to or from the bed that held her. Her stomach dropped as the pod settled into the gravitational pull of Charon and Pluto. She trembled with a combination of fear and excitement as Hydra adjusted the orbit with short blasts of fuel. Given Carrie was only twenty-three when she was sentenced; her pod was built to sustain an orbit for a minimum of seventy years. If she lived longer than that, it was hard to know what would happen. Would the pod simply plummet to Charon and finally allow her to die? Or would the Earth programmers find a way to coax her satellite to remain aloft until her death, never allowing her to touch ground again?
After the long journey she was glad to finally get started on her work. She had lobbied Earth-Space Research, in her most contrite writing, to be allowed to move again once the pod achieved a stable orbit. It was “under consideration.”
Carrie clamped down on the little bit of anger she still felt at her confinement. For the most part she had grown to accept her imprisonment. Sometime around year five Carrie had decided not to damn them all to hell every time she received a message with instructions on the nature of her research. In fact, she decided it wasn’t worth the energy to feel anything about the Earth-Space administrators or others left back on Earth. At least she was freed of the daily edicts of the Popess instructing wives in their duties.
During the first two years of her confinement, she’d
The Popess, flanked by the twelve judges of the church, stood on a platform that rose high above Carrie’s head. It was built to intimidate. It was built to make sure the criminal understood there was no escape. A large screen projected the room to the worldwide cast.
The Popess stepped to the microphone to pronounce her sentence. “For the crime of refusing a marriage contract we find you guilty. For the crime of killing your assigned husband we find you guilty. For the crime of heresy against the church, and specifically against the holy office of the Popess we find you guilty of treason. You are hereby sentenced to spend the rest of your natural life in the service of the Plutonian moon, Charon. Your name has been stripped from our records. Henceforth, you will only be addressed as the Prisoner of Charon. You are allowed twenty-four hours to say goodbye to any family before your launch.”
The lights dimmed as the Popess and her judges exited. Then Carrie was returned to the cell. She had no one visiting. Her mother was too embarrassed by her daughter’s crimes. Friends had long ago abandoned Carrie when she refused to marry her assigned husband. It didn’t matter that he was seventy and she only twenty-two. It didn’t matter that he was a violent man who took what he wanted and never cared about her. All that mattered to her family and friends was that the word of the Popess was the word of God, and to go against the word of God was treason.
***
There was not a sound in the pod except the constant click and whir of the air filters and the bots checking attitude, adjustment, speed. Carrie peered out the view window situated above her sleeping couch. The stars rushing by had slowed in the past two days. They now appeared like a fine snow that covered the sky with a frozen, silvery moss.
Though happy to see the stars now visible again, they held little sway against the intense, boundless silence of this ocean of nothingness. Since passing Neptune nearly a year ago, this final leg of her journey had seemed longer than the previous seven years combined. Perhaps it was anticipation of finally starting her work.
“Braking,” a simulation of the Popess’ voice warned Carrie . “Secure restraints. Braking.”
Carrie laughed at the thought that she had any choice about moving to or from the bed that held her. Her stomach dropped as the pod settled into the gravitational pull of Charon and Pluto. She trembled with a combination of fear and excitement as Hydra adjusted the orbit with short blasts of fuel. Given Carrie was only twenty-three when she was sentenced; her pod was built to sustain an orbit for a minimum of seventy years. If she lived longer than that, it was hard to know what would happen. Would the pod simply plummet to Charon and finally allow her to die? Or would the Earth programmers find a way to coax her satellite to remain aloft until her death, never allowing her to touch ground again?
After the long journey she was glad to finally get started on her work. She had lobbied Earth-Space Research, in her most contrite writing, to be allowed to move again once the pod achieved a stable orbit. It was “under consideration.”
Carrie clamped down on the little bit of anger she still felt at her confinement. For the most part she had grown to accept her imprisonment. Sometime around year five Carrie had decided not to damn them all to hell every time she received a message with instructions on the nature of her research. In fact, she decided it wasn’t worth the energy to feel anything about the Earth-Space administrators or others left back on Earth. At least she was freed of the daily edicts of the Popess instructing wives in their duties.
During the first two years of her confinement, she’d
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