Diaspora Ad Astra (15 page)

Santos lay on the floor, holding his bleeding ankle. He was limping, trying to stand up and thinking of all the things that he would do to Jeremy once he got his hands on
him.

Jeremy used his subconscious to drive back the Sexbomb assault, and with those few seconds he rammed his neural band into the shield energy regulator, causing the shield to
malfunction.

The shield went dead and the broken glass was the first thing to be sucked out by the vacuum of space. Next went all the small loose matter in the room. Santos tried to grab
hold of something, but the pull of space was too much and he lost his grip.

Jeremy was held fast by the robotic arms, though his own arms flailed as everything rushed out of the main server room. He didn’t even feel the vacuum because by then he
had already succumbed to the caramel-like sweetness of surrendering to the Sexbomb dancers.

Of course a few seconds after the shield failed the computer activated and closed the metal panel to the room. It was just enough time to get the main server room cleaned up
for the end of the story.

Jeremy woke from a restful sleep in the main server room. The rest of the people regained consciousness sooner, and thanks to Lena they were able to understand, somewhat, what
happened. They couldn’t really fathom what really happened, but they got the idea. And everyone agreed that it was better that way. Like a night of hard drinking when you’re not exactly
sure what you did the night before, sometimes it’s just better if you know you were drunk but you don’t get the details. So you won’t really have to live with what you did.

Waking up, Jeremy found that everyone else looked a lot weirder than him. They looked hung over, drained. But then it seemed right that they looked hung over, because when you
think about it, hangovers are about being dehydrated, and all these people had been dancing without regard for their personal well-being for a pretty long time. Jeremy wasn’t sure how long
he’d been asleep, but it had to be a long time because all files and related files on the Sexbomb dancers were completely removed from the system. They were tattered and beat, and you could
tell which of them had gotten a taste of Lena’s Kung-fu moves.

That morning, the only weird thing about Jeremy was his limp.

When he unsealed the main server’s door people were outside waiting for him. And he thought this was extremely weird. He’d never seen people excited to see him.
Lena rushed towards him and gave him a hug. This too, he thought, was weird, but rather enjoyable.

Then he popped a stiffy and had to push her away.
Just give me a few days
he told her.

So you’re thinking all this is weird?

Yeah.

And the generation starship continued its long journey. Things got back to the way they were.

But from then on, it wasn’t as much of a drag for Jeremy anymore.

By Dannah Ruth S. Ballesteros

“Hey, are you okay?”

Joan looked up from the trash bins and the newspaper mound she had tried to cover herself with for the past hour. A tall, bespectacled Caucasian guy, probably in his early
twenties, who sported a faux hawk and a coat over a hoodie approached her cautiously. He had a look of concern on his face and eyed her nakedness up and down.

“Don’t come any closer!” Joan warned. The guy inched closer.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” the guy said. He knelt down, took off his coat and gave it to her when he was near enough. “What’s your
name?”

Joan accepted the coat and wore it but then it was too big of a risk for Joan to mention her name to this kindly stranger. After all, the news had said that if someone helped
her out, they too would be sent to jail.

“Sir, I have to say thank you for the coat but I don’t think it will be safe for you to help me out.” Joan said. “Please, if you’ve watched the
news...”

Joan saw the guy changed his expression of concern to surprise.

“Oh shit,” he muttered. “You’re that wanted girl... I...“

Joan stood up from the mounds of newspaper, finally able to because of the coat covering her naked body, and raised her index finger to her lips. “Sir, I would ask you to
leave me alone but please don’t call anybody!”

“Just come with me! Don’t worry.” He said, extended a hand to her. “Don’t you have any stuff with you?” He suddenly sounded alarmed and in a
hurry. When Joan refused the hand, he took her by force. “I said don’t worry, I’m a good guy! I know the risk of helping you out but don’t worry!” She tried to pull
herself away but the guy was insistent and persistent. She couldn’t scream for help or someone who’d recognize her would call the cops.

They left the gas station where Joan hid out for a few hours, just right after she lost the last of her clothes. They were somewhere in Memphis, Tennessee, on Route
40—that was for sure. Joan looked at the guy who dragged her. They were about the same age. She wondered if he really recognized her from TV or was just a wacko who picked up naked girls in
gas stations in the middle of nowhere. Either way, both possibilities seemed unfortunate for her.

***

Joan wasn’t supposed to be here. In fact, she shouldn’t have been here. Six months ago, Joan Tan was an OFW. She graduated from the University of Santo Tomas six
years ago with a degree in nursing, but then failed the board exam two years in a row. She did various odd jobs after failing the board exam for the first time while she took another review course
to prepare taking it a second time. After she found out that she had failed it again, she accepted her TNT (“
tago nang tago
,” or “always hiding,” the Filipino term
used to describe illegal aliens hiding from immigration officers) aunt’s offer to become a caregiver and quickly flew over to Washington where her aunt worked. She needed the job badly. She
was the first among her four siblings to graduate and she needed to help out her Dad who was an overseas worker as well in Saudi Arabia. But it was a dead-end job for her; this wasn’t what
she wanted. She wanted to become a nurse, not an old man’s maid. So, when she stumbled upon a Medical Volunteers Wanted ad one day while on her way to work, she jumped at the chance to do
something that was related to her course. The ad gave her hope to pursue nursing again in this foreign land. She couldn’t imagine herself wiping old asses for the rest of her life. At this
point, she’d almost lost all hope of becoming a nurse.

***

Joan found herself in the front seat of an old, green Honda Civic. She pondered over whether she would trust the guy or just run away as far as she could. She felt sorry for
herself that she didn’t have any other choice. She saw the guy open the back seat door and rummage through a duffel bag. He took out a pair of jeans and a shirt and gave it to her.

“You can wear these,” he said. He gave her time to change inside the car and then hopped in the driver’s seat.

“You’re Joan Tan, right?” he said. He seemed casual after just being in a state of shock and surprise. “I’m Sean Rhodes.”

“Why are you helping me?” Joan asked. She shifted in her seat to make herself comfortable in the loose Rolling Stones shirt and the huge jeans she was now wore.

“I don’t think that the news gave any credible reasons as to why you’re wanted.” He seemed to try to spit out the words.

“But I’m not just wanted here, I’m wanted internationally! Don’t you know that?”

“I do, but I’m just not that convinced why. I mean you haven’t murdered anyone, have you? They said you stole something valuable or whatever from the
government. But what’s with the hype?” Joan saw that Sam was trying to explain something through this act of generosity... or he just paid very little attention to the news. She
shouldn’t even trust him. But she was desperate, and beggars can’t be choosers.

“I haven’t killed anyone or stolen anything...”

“Why are you wanted, then?” Sean asked her.

***

Joan saw herself in a hospital gown with four other volunteers. She and another guy,  claimed to be American-Hispanic, sat next to each other with three Caucasians. They
were asked to sit on separate beds and were given shots. As a nursing graduate, Joan had to ask what the shots were for. The nurse who tended to her told her that it was a new medical formula to
enhance brain receptors, a sort of cure they were trying to make for Alzheimer’s disease. It was called the Neuroenhancer. She didn’t have to worry, the nurse assured her. It
didn’t have any side effects... so far. After a few hours, they were discharged and asked to return the next day. They were once again placed in hospital gowns, but this time they were tested
for different things that, to her, didn’t seem to have anything to do with Alzheimer’s disease. After all, she specialized in Respiratory Therapy.

The first test was a memory test which was twenty times harder than any other memory test she had ever taken. She was allowed to look at different pictures, but she was only to
guess where their respective pairs were. The second test consisted of her being placed in a freezing room where she could even see the mists her breath made. She was to signal if she felt
cold—of course she did. The next test they administered was a simple shock treatment. They had to see if she reacted to it—of course she did. In the next test, they would prick her
index finger with a needle to see if she could feel pain—of course she did. The final test was that she had to hold her hand over a flame and see if how long she could last—she last for
only a few seconds. She asked the nurse what the tests had to do with Alzheimer’s disease, but the nurse pretended not to hear. Instead, they were asked to come back the next day. They did
the same tests all over again for almost a week.

On their last day, which was supposed to be the time they’d get paid for the volunteer work, one of their co-volunteers was missing. She held back her question knowing
that the nurse would ignore it just as she had been doing all week. Joan as usual failed the first test, didn’t even last five minutes in the cold room, exclaimed in Filipino her pain at the
electric shock she was given, and needed a band-aid for her bleeding index finger. On the final test, however, she didn’t even realize that her hand had already touched the flame.

The doctors and nurses who examined her asked her to wait in the waiting room while they discuss her results. She was surprised that she was the only one who had to wait while
the others were sent home, paychecks in hand.

***

Since Joan couldn’t be smuggled out of the country, her plan for six months of being on the run was to avoid major cities and hit the small towns. If she blew her cover,
she had to move on to the next small town. It was already dusk. They had been driving on the highway towards Texas. Sean could just drop her in some small town there.

“I was a computer analyst for the Department of Finance and Accounting Service,” Sean said, trying to break the silence with small talk. Joan didn’t respond.
“It pays good money but I kind of got in trouble, so I owe the department some money. I got transferred to another department.” Joan still gave no response. “Is it me or is the
air-conditioning of this car broken?” Sean suddenly said as he adjusted the thermostat.

“What do you mean?” Joan turned to him, suddenly alarmed.

“I meant it’s stuffy in here even if it’s below 20 degrees outside and the thermostat is on full blast.” Sean said casually,  apparently surprised
by Joan’s sudden response.

“Ok, ok, pull over! I have to get out, quick! I said pull over!” Joan shouted, hand at the door handle, ready to flip it open.

Sean reluctantly pulled over to the side of the road; his vision was suddenly blurred by smoke that came out on Joan’s side of the car. Joan quickly got out and ran as
far away from the car as she could. Sean ran after her, coughing.

“Hey! What about the plan?” He shouted at her. He stopped on his heels when he saw that she was frantically taking off the clothes that she wore. She was topless
already and literally emitted smoke.

“Don’t come any nearer!” Joan warned Sean while she tried to take off her jeans as quick as she could. Then without warning, she burst into flames.

“Damn it!” Joan swore. The jeans she wore were quickly reduced to ashes in a matter of seconds. She saw Sean with his hands on his head with his familiar expression
of shock.

“Don’t be scared, Sean. If you feel like leaving and running as far away from me as possible, it’s ok with me. Just don’t come near me until I stop
burning, ok? This might take a few minutes...or hours.” She tried to talk to Sean as calm as possible. He was at a loss for words but he didn’t seem to want to run.

***

Joan wondered why she was being held back by these people. She tried to listen with her ear on the closed ward doors.

“She’s developing immunity to extreme heat. She didn’t realize I’d set the room temperature to the boiling point. She wasn’t even sweating when
she got out.”

“Wow, two finds in one group—fire and ice. This shows promising results with the Neuroenhancer for our clients, especially when troops are based in deserts and
snowy areas.”

“It depends still. She’s our third successful test subject so far.”

“There might be a problem, though. She’s Filipino. She’s not a citizen here and we only have basic information on her. She probably doesn’t have any
visas or other documents. She’s probably one of those illegal immigrants.”

“Wouldn’t that be easier when we take her? Anyway, security check will take care of that. In the meantime, if her government finds out that a Filipino is a
successful test subject of the Neuroenhancer, they might want in on the project. By the looks of their current economic state, they probably don’t have the money to buy a share of the
formula, so they might use her citizenship to blackmail us.”

Joan didn’t understand what they were talking about but she was sure something was up. When she gathered enough courage to leave the facility, the doctors and the nurses
came out of the ward and asked her to spend the night. She refused. They insisted.