Chapter 2: Tragedy:Remedy | The Ones That Came Before
243 6 9
X
Reading Options
Font Size
A- 15px A+
Width
Reset
X
Table of Contents
Loading... please wait.

The O’Vertame Cylinder illustration is by Vertutame. Like before, please check him his other art and support him if you can.

 It was getting rather dark. As we enter the front porch, the buzz of streetlights flicker on from behind us, basking the concrete with an orange hue. The light on the front porch isn’t on. My mother must not be home, either working late or gone to see our father off. I take out my phone and tap its light so I can fumble around my pockets for my keychain. As if reading my thoughts, Friederika speaks up from behind me, “Oh yeah, you didn’t think to call your mom or anything, did you?”

  “Uh… it never crossed my mind. It would’ve probably taken too long for her to come pick us up though… I think we would have been better off just walking home.”

  Friederika gives a sheepish nod. “Right.”

  “Ah, here it is.” After enough rummaging, I finally find the key, and slide it into the keyhole to unlock the door. We both walk into the hallway and slip off our shoes. “Sorry for the intrusion!” We say in unison at nobody in particular.

  “Oh, are you hungry by any chance?” Friederika asks as she heads for my kitchen. Of course she would head for the kitchen first and foremost.

  “Kiki… you didn’t just agree to come by for our food, did you? I know you love my mom’s cooking, but…”

  Friederika let out the most annoying cackle I’ve ever heard. “Now what makes you say that? When are you going to learn your mom’s cooking so you can make me packed lunches for school?” If I didn’t know any better, I would figure I was being taken advantage of.

  “Right… well, yes, Kiki, you can cook some food for yourself. I think we have some leftover porridge.—”

  “—The gloopy rice one with soggy looking meat?” I hear the opening of our refrigerator and the immediate sound of pillaging. Friederika is like this when mom isn't around, but turns into a perfect angel when she is.

  “You know, if my mom heard you say that, she would probably kick you out right away.” I said satisfied.

  “That’s cold. You’re cold.” I could almost hear the sarcasm in her voice.

  “Being cold would be asking you to leave, wouldn't it? Anyway, could you at least make me some too?” I ask, and Friederika complies. In the meantime, I make my way to the living room and plop down on our big white couch and sink into the soothing leather. Bliss flows through my body—it almost feels like I could forget about Friederika’s impoliteness! Now, where is the remote? I lazily swing my arms around on the couch for the remote, but nothing comes up. “Oh, right, it was under the pillow, maybe?” I ask out loud to myself.

  From the direction of the kitchen I hear the sound of some beeps followed by a humming noise, which I’m guessing is Friederika using the microwave. Friederika pokes her head out of the kitchen. “Sorry, did you say something?”

  “Ah, no, I was—” Friederika slipped back into the kitchen before I could finish.

  Sigh.

  I scratch my head and an idea comes to mind. “Vivi! Wake up!” In another room I hear the familiar pattern of something booting up. Not long afterwards a small jet black circular device scurries towards me. Vivi is so swift that it bumps into one of my outstretched feet. “Hey! Vivi! Watch it!” Vivi, is, of course, the affectionate name I gave to our family roomba. She’s a floor height house cleaner that was a birthday present to me some years ago. Beside her main function as a cleaner, Vivi is also a nice friend that keeps track of the things you tell it. A far more suitable companion than Friederika can only dream of.

  “Victoria, hellooo” Vivi said in a cutesy feminine voice. I give it a gentle pat on her metallic head.

  “There there, I bet you were all lonely waiting for your masters to come home, huh? Who's a cute roomba? Oh yes you aree!” I scoop up Vivi with both hands and hug her gently against my chest.

  “Wow… you’re kinda sad, Vicky.”—was a somber comment from the kitchen. I forget Friederika is still here. And although I can’t see her, I can picture the disdainful look on her face.

  Ignoring Friederika’s comment, I stare into Vivi’s front sensors. “Hey Vivi, where was the TV remote last seen?” I ask the roomba in a calm authoritative tone. Vivi’s sensors blink for a few times as it scrambles to calculate an answer. Or at least I’d like to think it does. Eventually, it speaks in its typical robotic tone.

  “The TV remote was last seen in the back of the couch.” I set Vivi down next to me and plunge my hand into the sofa's cushions. After some blind digging my hand bumps into something hard. Sure enough, it was the remote I was looking for. As though to celebrate, Vivi makes some excited beeping noises and spins around in circles.

  “Good girl, Vivi.” I give her a congratulatory pat. I hit the power button on the remote. The television flicks on to a channel of what I believe is one of Friederika’s dramas.

  “Oh? What’s that I hear?” Friederika plops down next to me with both of our bowls of rice porridge. “Is this ‘Carnival Crown’?

  “Uh… I think so? We already saw this episode, right?”

  Friederika sighs. “Yes, you’re in luck. I think they’re showing some marathon before the new cliffhanger episode?”

  “Oh, goodie! That means we have enough time for the documentary.” Friederika sighs and grabs her phone from her skirt's pocket. She’s clearly not interested in it.

  “Hey, was your sofa always this hard?”

  I turn to her with a perplexed look. “What do you mean—” It hits me. Of course I know what she means. I can hear it just faintly. The very low hum of a roomba’s cry for help.

  “Kiki, you’re sitting on Vivi.”

  “What? Oh!” Friederika carefully stands up so as to not spill her porridge. She looks down and realizes she is, in fact, sitting on top of the roomba, which has now sunk halfway into the cushion.

  “Oh, you poor thing!” I set my bowl on the coffee table in front of us and lifted Vivi onto my lap. “There there, it’s all right now.” I coo as I stroke Vivi with reassurance.

  “Seriously, Vicky,” Friederika says,” I think you’re starting to lose your marbles. My papa knows some good therapists if you ever need help.”

  “Are you sure he’s not seeing therapists because of you?”

  “You know, this bowl looks like it would make a good hat for that big head of yours.” Friederika retorts.

  “Haha, right.” Turning my attention back to the TV, I flip to the channel that the documentary is on. It seems we made it in time for the intro. The sound of thunderous drumming gives away to a beautiful assembly of trumpets. The camera gradually pans out to reveal more and more of a planet—Terra. As it continues to do so, the logo slides into view from behind Terra and both eventually come into full view, UNIVERSAL.

  “Wow, this intro is cool,” Friederika says, surprised. She shifts around in her seat and leans in. She’s right. The song they used gives off such thunderous vibes that it gives me goosebumps. You know it will be a good one when the tune is epic. “Say, Vicky, what exactly is this documentary about? I’m surprised they got all these big name companies in the opening credits…”

  “I found out about it from our history professor, he could never stop talking about it. Said it was about the end of the…uh… what did he call it?”I tilt my head racking my brain for the name of the calendar that was used back then. “After Death? Anno… something.”

  “Wasn’t that stuff like, over 500 years ago? What’s the big deal then?”

  “Well… no, it was like 300 years ago, or something.” There’s a smooth transition to starry space following the intro. Numerous marble busts seemingly fall from view one at a time and crumble as they descend further into the background. And as this happens, a deep emotionless voice begins narrating. But at least it is balanced out by some classical music.

  “…If one were to argue that the road of war leads to progress, few would dare disagree. Indeed, if there was ever such a concept of ‘progress’ for humanity, it would be birthed by war. In times of such, great amounts of bloodshed leads to the crumbling of millions of hopes and dreams…” As the busts continue to fall and crumble to dust, the background of outer space switches to several sequences of medieval combat.

  “Wait, I thought this was about the Great War or whatever?” Friederika asks, rather puzzled.

  I shrug in response. “You gotta start the narration somewhere, I suppose.”

  “—In any age, some individuals wish to make a difference in the world. The ambitions of such people can only be evaluated by those living in the same period, as the values of society change with time as do the interpretations of historians.” The sequence changes to various historical leaders. There are some I recognize, while others are more obscure. Some are mere paintings of famous people while later ones are real photos or archival footage.

  “—Then there are, of course, the few who forge their destiny. Those with such dreams did enough to accomplish great deeds and forever leave their mark into the annals of history.” There are several scenes of important looking figures looking onward at parading legions of soldiers in perfection unison, with the sound of marching overlapping with the classical background music still playing. The music, also, has a more somber tone to it from now on.

  There are more action sequences — more modern stuff featuring archival footage. These footage depict assault troops storming a position, to a tank on fire, and a sky darkened by a whole fleet of antique looking bomber craft. The statues of dictators being toppled amid a cheering crowd. It then cuts to the panning of a ruinous landscape as far as the eye can see. All that is left was a single wailing child.

  “How tragic,” Friederika says. Not all of them are action sequences, though. There are a few panning stills of assassinations by gunmen in there somewhere. In one particular case, a politician was getting stabbed by a long-bladed weapon. I suppose there’s more than one way that individuals leave their mark on history.

  “—The closure of the twenty-second century Anno Domini—”

  “Anno Domini! That’s it! That’s what the era was called” I jump in my seat.

  “Hush!” Is Friederika’s response. I won’t deny it’s surprising seeing her invested in this all of a sudden, considering the only thing that will ever hold her interest is M-dramas.

  “—ushered in a period of the concept known as ‘global peace’. Born not from violence, not from war, but from the willingness of cooperation and mutual trust.” There is both authentic footage and reenactments of people partying, and more mundane day to day life stuff. The music begins shifting to something more uplifting. The crumbling marble busts from before no longer appear.

  “I gotta hand it to them. The choice of music is nice. It fits it well, don’t you think?” I ask Friederika, who is staring intently at the television.

  “Yeah, but they could do with less of the classical stuff. People aren’t interested in that stuff nowadays, you know?”

  “I suppose… But I hear there’s a…what did dad say it was? A resurgence of interest’ in the classic genre I think?”

  It’s Friederika’s turn to shrug. “Cashing in on the fad, maybe?”

  The unenthusiastic dialog continues “…one could look forward to the future believing that the cycle of destruction was a thing of the past. That it was not an integral part of human nature. The tragic bloodshed over killing one another was not all in vain. “However… much like a certain deterministic pest, the ambitions of man persists throughout the ages.” As if on cue, the classic arrangement changes to a darker tone. And maybe I jinxed myself from earlier, but the sequence of marble busts falling from view and crumbling one by one resume.

  “In the middle of the 26th century Anno Domini, the energy crisis predicted by past generations had come to inevitable fruition. The consumption of resources has long become eclipsed by population growth, which by this point had peaked at one trillion souls on Terra.”

  “One trillion! That’s insane.” Friederika and I both cried out in unison.

  “By the year 2520, Terra was hot—politically and climate-wise. Most countries had grown distrustful of one another… alliances are broken off, and military bases historically operated by the Unified States of Amerigo had been dismantled and the troops withdrew home. Thus leaving many of her former allies to fend for themselves.” Amerigo? I tilt my head in ponder, trying to remember where I heard that word from… oh, right. I remember it being mentioned in some of our history books. A really big economical superpower that boasted itself the “modern Roma Empire”, whatever that means.

  “As the 20s’ progressed, so did the death toll from famine, civil unrest, and local conflicts between nations.” There’s a wide array of footage you would come to expect; heavily armed soldiers pushing back protesters, soldiers running around in trench lines, and jets flying in perfect formation.

  “—During this period of global upheaval, various politicians took advantage of the chaos occurring in their countries and solidified their particular nations as authoritative dystopias.” The follow up footage was reminiscent of the ones we saw before. Endless waves of tanks, trucks carrying huge rockets, and legions of foot soldiers saluting their leaders as they parade by.

  “History certainly repeats itself, huh?” I ask Friederika, although we both already knew the answer. The view shifts to a 3D model of Terra, and the camera pans to the Indian continent, where a few photos of some people are focused on.

  “Around the year 2537, the prime minister of India, while inspecting a border village hit by an suspected Pakistan artillery attack, was assassinated by a Pakistani sympathizer. Although he was immediately detained, his actions caused an irreversible domino effect through the Middle East. Eventually, the actions of this one individual caused localized conflicts throughout the globe to transition into a world war.”

  “Wow. All of that because of one dude.” I remark offhandedly.

  “Yeah, you could say that again.”

  “—The Great Resource Wars, as contemporary historians now call it, was anything but. What were justifications for fighting over depleted industrial assets was an excuse to wage total war and rekindle the cycle of destruction. It would wage on for seven and a half years. For a world war in the post nuclear age, it comes as a surprise that it was not until the very end that nuclear arsenals were deployed.”

  One last marble bust falls into the depths of the 3D globe of Terra. Instead of crumbling slowly, it shatters all at once. To our sudden surprise, the musical score gets bombastic as streak lines depicting nuclear missile launches occur all across the globe. It feels like time goes by so much slower as the missiles reach their destinations. Eventually, mushroom clouds cover the surface of most of the planet, except for seemingly Southeast Asia. Even the music trails off after a while, leaving only silence.

  “…The Great War claims the lives of billions of innocent people. Billions more will die in the years to come.

  “In the summer days of 2544, the surviving international leaders ordered a cease fire. Afterwards, they convene in New Zealand—one of the few places on Terra not devastated by war. It is at a modest hotel in the city of Dunedin where they negotiate for an end to the war.” It shows a lot of old dudes in business suits shaking hands with one another while posing for the camera, grinning from ear to ear.

  “—Their efforts go on for only a few months. It finally culminates in the Treaty of Balaclava, named after a nearby suburb. But some contemporary historians believe it is one of symbolism. A name that serves to hide their collective crimes against humanity—or what remains of it.” Photographs and archival footage of desolate landscapes, vicious tsunamis, and tornado thunderstorms running rampant. Not a living soul in sight. The narrator’s wording is a bit chilling. When I glance over at Friederika she looks just as shaken as I am.

  “With most of the former superpowers, including the Unified States of Amerigo, wiped out, the emerging superpower over the next century becomes Australia. Together with most of Southeast Asia, she revived the 20th-century defense treaty, SEATO, that served as a political-economical union. Unlike its ancestor organization, it enjoyed far more success addressing crucial economical and environmental issues within the member states.

  “Years after the Great War ended, SEATO revitalizes a space program on a scale never before seen, under the scope of Operation SLINGSHOT.” Footage is shown of giant spaceships being constructed in enormous factories, with such a busy scenery it would be impossible for me to pick out any specific detail. Additional segments show orbital construction of partially completed structures.

  “Aren’t those…?” I started, but Friederika told me to shush.

  “—Among the crowning achievements of this technological leap forward in the field of interstellar travel was the discovery of the jump drive sometime in the early 2600s’. Utilizing SEATO’s pooled budget, Australia poured an exceptional amount of manpower and capital into SLINGSHOT to see it through.

  “However, in the words of a leading engineer of the project…” It shows a rather dated photo of a scrawny man with withered hair, oversized glasses, and a look so stricken you could only wonder if he was a strung-up corpse.

  A voice-over of who I can assume is the man begins his own narration “with the budget we received… from the governments of SEATO … it was enough to solve world hunger several times over… however, it was only moderate for our goals… [a brief pause of silence] for SLINGSHOT… it was whopping great, but still not enough.”

  The next set of footage shows ships in trial tests usually done in Terra’s orbit. Some of these were successful, while the majority were tragic disasters. In one case, a spaceship attempted to warp out to space, but the narrator goes on to explain that the gravitational field causes the ship to spontaneously explode during its jump, and its destroyed remains drift in the space it was intended to warp to.

  “Could you imagine being a test pilot for those back then? You could die at any given moment…” Friederika muses as she gives Vivi a few kind strokes.

  The narrator’s dry tone continues “after years of obstruction and continuous protests by the rest of SEATO, it would be another fifty years before the jump drive was deemed ‘exceptionally perfect’. The fruitions of SLINGSHOT were seen as an enormous success, and SEATO’s skepticism of the project vanished almost overnight.” A photo of a large assembly of scientists and engineers is shown. Behind them is some large control room with lots of monitors. There was a date scribbled in the bottom right, 2659.

  “However, humanity’s reach for the stars was only beginning…” Segments of the orbital space structures we saw before flash across the screen. “Another core aspect of interstellar travel was the concept of space colonies. Construction of these began in the middle of the 2550s’, but saw an acceleration of development following the completion of the jump drive in 2659.

  “With the full economical backing of SEATO, the first functioning prototypes were completed by 2669…

  “In honor of the leading engineer who made revolutionary breakthroughs of this new class of space colonies, they were coined as O’Vertame Cylinders, from which they also deprive the name of their general shapes. Although this was more of a colloquial term for them at first. As time progressed, each O’Vertame Cylinder is referred to as a Side with unique names for suffixes. A group of Side colonies is categorized as a Cluster. The first to be completed was Side Mesopotamia.”

  A distant shot of Terra amid the blanket of outer space. Then the camera pans to the side of a slowly spinning Side colony that gradually takes up more of the screen. “No longer would humanity remain shackled on a tiny rock in the sea of stars—”

  The camera pans out to reveal a large Cluster. “They used some real footage for this. Not anything computer-generated. Fancy stuff, isn’t it?” Friederika notes, apparently looking up trivia on her phone.

  “Right.” Next, it shows a fancy looking generator placed behind glass in what looks like some museum. It looks familiar now that I think about it.

  “Hey, wait a minute. We’ve been there before haven’t we?” I ask, facing Friederika.

  “Huh?”

  “That museum, I mean. We went there for a school field trip, right?”

  Friederika ponders in silence, then gives a nod. “Oh, yeah, you’re right! That’s the original—”

  “—One interesting byproduct of the jump drive was the discovery of a terraforming device that would, in theory, allow for further colonization of alien worlds and free humanity from increasingly overpopulated Side colonies.”

  “—Yeah, that’s what it was,” I confirm for Friederika.

  “Although Operation SLINGSHOT was declared over, a follow-up project was conducted to oversee the funding and development of this device, codenamed Operation MARKET GARDEN. SEATO’s leading scientific communities debated whether or not the device should be used to terraform the wastelands of Terra or the Australian Outback. Even candidate worlds were considered for the process. “It was decided that the vast desolate Outback would be prioritized as a testing ground above all else. The tests would last for a few years before production was approved for mass-produced use…”

  The television shows imagery of a reddish planet. Through some flashy aftereffects, it transformed into a more vibrant green. Friederika lets out a surprised yelp that startles me “Wow! Marsol looked like that? Unbelievable!”

  “…With no further obstruction, the stage was set for humanity to march onto a better future…” The focus changes to archival footage of a handsome young man wearing business clothes so casual you wouldn’t think he was a politician or anything.

  “He looks quite cute, don’t you think? Makes you wish you were born in his time.” Friederika commented with a giggle as though she read my mind.

  “—The 2672 general elections saw the sensational victory of Horatio Galland. The youngest to assume office at the age of 34—” 34! What the heck, he looks like he’s in his early 20s’!

  “—He resonated quite well across most demographics, remaining as the only prime minister since then to receive the totality of electoral votes. He became something of a celebrity idol for the everyday man…” Horatio is seen mixed in with large crowds of cheering people, with not a glimpse of security in site, in some cases he was even drinking and dancing with them. The smile on Horatio’s face was so sincere it’d make any little girl’s heart flutter with excitement.

  “Horatio’s tenure as prime minister came at a time when the foundations of SEATO came into question regarding the future autonomy of interstellar territories, and even the continued purpose of SEATO itself. Horatio, who was recognized as a space reformist, answered with a strong push to reform SEATO as an all-encompassing Federation with equal rights for all.

  “Twelve years after his inauguration, in 2684, Horatio ordered a mandatory week-long public referendum in all SEATO member countries. Included in the referendum were selected Cluster colonies. The purpose of the referendum was to decide rather or not to reform SEATO anew as one political entity. The results were overwhelmingly unanimous; aye for reformation.” Horatio, who has now visibly aged from his prime ministry and was slightly less handsome as before, is seen proudly holding a newspaper article celebrating the announcement of the new Federation.

  “Horatio’s strong leadership under the new Federation saw great new strides, including the framework of a constitution and a new calendar. The ancient Gregorian calendar was formally abolished in 2688. In its place, rising from the ashes it was reborn as the Universal calendar as year 1.

  "Despite his strong character, strong presence, and overwhelming love for democracy, Horatio was said to have been tired of the public political life he had so lavished over the last decade. More importantly, Horatio believed that the longer he was in office, the more he felt that he was trampling on the ideals of historic republicanism. The aging Galland feared that if he were to die while holding office, it would set the precedent for the office of prime minister to be a lifelong appointment—an dictatorship.

  “Horatio had expressed hopes of holding elections following the creation of the Federation entity. Believing that it was the right thing to maintain the process of republicanism and pass on power peacefully to a new generation of statesmen. With this in mind, the old Galland held elections with compulsory voting in year 1 of the Universal Calendar, or 2688 AD. The old prime minister expected to lose — but was pleasantly shocked when he won another term as prime minister.

  “Ultimately, Horatio remained in office for another four years as public approval remained at record highs. Near the end of his second term in 5 UC, Galland decided not to run for a third term as he knew he would reinforce the ideas of dictatorships. This term as the first minister of the Federation totaled two consecutive terms. Altogether, including his tenure as prime minister of SEATO, Horatio was in office for twenty-one cumulative years.”

  “Twenty-one years. That’s a long time, it kind of is a… what did the narrator guy call it? A dictatorship? Or whatever at that point, isn’t it?” I ask Friederika rather curiously.

  “Yeah, it kind of is. But if he held that much influence and he didn’t do anything evil, then it’s not necessarily a bad thing, right?” In history class, I don’t think there’s anything bad mentioned about Mr. Galland. I remember one history teacher we had beat into us that if Horatio considered it, we would be living under an imperial dynasty or something by now.

  But what happens next felt something out of this world.

  A newsreel shows Mr. Galland stepping out of his car just outside of what looks like the senate building in Australia. In front of him is a crowd that’s as big as ever. There are only a few aides in view around him in the duration of the video. “Before entering the senate building, Mr. Galland stopped to meet and greet an excited crowd…” I noticed right away something was off. A shady looking figure in the background making his way through the crowd.

  BANG!

  It was so sudden I jump in my—

  BANG!

  Cries of terror throughout the crowd, as the old Galland is obstructed by the rapid arrival of several armed men. The cameraman is equally shocked as the point of view throws the viewer to the concrete floor.

  BANG!

  The panic screams continue as a rush of more men swarm the area in some sort of parameter. There were cries of “he’s dead!” and angry screams of “kill him!” which I guess is referring to Galland and the assassinator guy. But they were drowned out by the bellow of the man thought dead, “Do not hurt him! Bring him here, to me. I want to see him.” A young man is dragged in restraints to a staggered Galland clutching his stomach. The exchange between them is drowned out by the loud ruckus, and Galland gestures for him to be taken away.

  “He lets him go?!” I cry in surprise “He nearly kills him, and he lets him go?!” Friederika only shrugs, unable to think of a proper response.

  “—Standing before the senate, the old and sincere Galland, still gripping onto his bloody shirt, reads out loud his now famous Farewell Address which was also broadcasted live. It stands as a statement of his principles of democracy. The Farewell Address warns of the dangers of autocracy and the growing concerns of representation of citizens throughout the Orion Arm.” The rest of the documentary cuts to an enormous statue of Mr. Galland. In the foreground, an opening scrawl of text by Galland narrates it.

  After what seems like forever, the last excerpt is said by both the unenthusiastic documentary narrator and Horatio simultaneously.

  “[…] A Federation of humanity. For the people, by the people—not a Federation by Terra, for Terra by Terrans. Lest this grand Federation of Sol be trodden, warped, and torn apart by tyranny… the tyranny that becomes law.” And with one last shot of the Galland statue against the setting sun, an unnarrated epilogue depicts the events after the Farewell Address, accompanied only by a somber musical tone.

  “Galland kept true to his word and did not run for a third term. The assassination attempt, according to his assailer years later—a self-proclaimed ‘ultra republican’—was not on ‘the citizen Galland’, but rather ‘Galland, the third-termer’. He claimed the attempt was as a warning to future ‘third-termers’. Conversely, the assaulter was declared delusional and committed to a hospital for the criminally insane, where he died of natural causes in 42 UC.

  “…Galland retired from the public life entirely, to a small island off of New Zealand. There he enjoyed fishing and declined nominations to run for local mayor. He died of heart failure in 20 UC." Afterwards, the documentary ends with a fade to credit roll.

  “Wow… that was…” My words trail off into nothingness.

  Friederika on the other hand claps wholeheartedly. “It wasn’t anything like an M-drama, but it was good!” She smiles and snatches the controller from my lap.

  “Uh, hey!—”

  “Speaking of which…” She flips the channel back to the one from before.

  “Agh, whatever, help yourself.” I throw my arms up in defeat “by the way, I’m going to make some tea, did you want some?”

  “Oh, yeah sure, I’d appreciate that a lot.” I grab both of our plates and make my way to the kitchen to wash them.

  “By the way, Vick…”

  “Hmm?” I briefly flip on the power for the kettle and peak out of the doorway at Friederika. Friederika is holding a pamphlet in her hands.

  “What’s that, Kiki? Oh…”

  “—These are the navy pamphlets they handed us from school, right? You’re not thinking about…?” Friederika looked a bit worried, and understandably so. I let out a sigh. I push away from the wall I was latching onto to join Friederika in the living room.

  “…There’s a lot of military tradition in my family, you know? Even before my father was recalled for deployment, they held some high expectations of me joining the military after graduation.”

  “Oh, yeah, right.” There is a hint of sadness in Friederika’s eyes, but she quickly smiles to mask it. She gets up and pumps a fist to her chest.

  “Wherever you go, I’ll follow too! Plus, you probably get free meals and education stuff from joining the military, right?” She shows me her typical toothy grin.

  “Er… yeah, I think so—ah!”

  Friederika wraps an arm around my shoulder and gets uncomfortably close. “Not to mention I have to keep an eye on you so you don’t do anything reckless, right? Like, hook up with a bad boy or something.”

  “Er… are you sure it’s not the other way around?”

  We both give each other smug looks then laugh the rest of the night away.

  The times were changing, but the two of us were only living in the moment.

9