👁️ Mara Vale Saga (SciFi Noir)
⭐Atmospheric Balance
by
Rodriac Copen
The
rain fell slowly on the roofs of the buildings in the lower ring. In
other parts of the planet, rain renewed spaces, cleansed impurities, and
brought a life-giving breath to the inhabitants.
None of that was true in the Sigma sector of the Argos complex . The dirty drops of soot didn't clean anything. They only spread the filth, carrying it from one place to another.
In that orbital city, air, water, and all essential services had a price. And air quality depended on who could pay more.
Those who paid the least almost always had the most difficulty breathing.
Lila was finishing her makeup in front of the broken mirror in her dressing room when the communicator vibrated.
—“ Lila?”—
a familiar voice came from the other end of the line.
—“ You know how it is. It depends on how much you pay me, Viktor.”—
The male voice responded politely.
—“ Sure, I just want to spend a few hours with you.”—
Lila
couldn't help but smile. She always had that special something among her favorite clients.
—“ You know the rate, then… In your department?”— she said while choosing a new bra style.
There was a brief silence from the other side.
—“ Mmm… no… I’d prefer we meet at a hotel.”—
Lila
smiled understandingly.
—“ Is your girlfriend controlling you today?”—
—“ No, that’s not why.”—
-" So?"-
—“ I’ll tell you at the hotel.”—
—“ You’re acting strange, Viktor.”—
A laugh was heard from the other side.
—“ Haha… no, baby. I’m just looking out for you.”—
He
didn't ask any more questions. Half of his clients were hiding
marriages, girlfriends, or lovers. The other half were hiding tastes
that might seem strange.
She finished dressing in tight stockings and garters. She knew Viktor
liked garters… and sheer fabrics.
A little later, he took a taxi.
The
hotel was as impersonal as all the others used by prostitutes like her.
Warm, designer lighting created an atmosphere of intimacy, some
synthetic furniture, and windows projected a fake starry sky.
Hours later, Viktor and she remained naked and lying down, breathing slowly.
Lila
looked at the man.
He didn't seem nervous, he just looked a little tired.
—“ Now you can tell me why you didn’t want to take me to your house.”—
He let out a short laugh.
—“ You know I live in the thirty-second district.”—
She nodded.
-" And?"-
—“ When you do sports there... you get short of breath.”—
Lila
thought he was joking, but he didn't smile.
—“ When you have sex too.”—
Her expression changed.
—“ Are you serious?”—
-" Completely."-
He half sat up to look at the rain behind the glass.
—“ The
air distribution company says it has lowered the air quality to levels
within legal parameters. Now there are different rates for poor and good
air quality.”—
—“ And can they do it?”—
—“ Of course, dear. I work repairing industrial filters. I know when the air is diluted.”—
He remained silent for a few seconds.
—“ I
think Atmos Systems is sending lower quality air to poor neighborhoods
like mine in order to sell higher quality mixes to wealthy areas.”—
Lila
didn't answer right away, but she took out her wallet and a digital card. She handed it to Viktor.
—“ I know someone.”—
—“ A journalist?”—
-" Worse."-
-" Police?"-
—“ Something much better.”—
He pointed to the card.
—“ Her name is Mara Vale. If she accepts the job… she’ll start asking questions until she finds out what’s going on…”—
Two days later there was a knock on the door of
Mara 's small apartment .
She
was an exhausted woman, looking fatigued and with dark circles under
her eyes that looked like they'd been there for days. She was
accompanied by a child of about ten years old, who was connected to a
small portable ventilator. The two women had spoken to each other via
intercom earlier.
—“ Come in .”— Mara
told them .
The mother placed an envelope with money on the table while explaining:
—“ We collected it from the people in our neighborhood.”—
Mara
pushed him, sending him back to the woman.
—“ First, tell me what’s happening.”—
The woman took a deep breath. As she began to explain:
—“ For
some time now, the younger children have been coughing. Nothing could
calm them down. Then came the hospitalizations. Now some can no longer
run. And the adults also have difficulty breathing when they get
agitated or play sports.”
The boy looked up. He was wearing a transparent mask. He asked Mara :
—“ Are you going to fix it?”—
Mara
watched him for a few seconds.
—“ I don’t know, kid.”—
The boy paused to catch his breath.
—“ So… why did you make us come?”—
Mara
carefully observed the oxygen tubes and the mask. Then she glanced at
the hands, too small, that were trying to hold the respirator.
—“ Because someone decided this was acceptable.”—
The boy nodded as if that answer was enough. Perhaps because adults no longer promised miracles.
A couple of days later, when he started investigating, Atmos Systems
appeared to be an impeccable company.
Spotless hallways, lots of glass, and neat-looking multilingual receptionists.
The offices were so perfectly silent that it was slightly unsettling.
Mara
tried to speak with employees, technicians, and supervisors. But she
didn't get any helpful answers. They all responded in the same way, as
if the responses had been rehearsed by each of them.
-" I don't know."-
—“ I can’t help.”—
—“ You should ask the press office.”—
Neither
provocative seduction nor bribery yielded any results. The whole thing
was starting to smell worse than the air in the neighborhood. No company
was that spotless.
That night Lila appeared at his house with a smile.
—“ I think I found a door you can go through .”—
he said, laughing.
-" Which?"-
—“ The executives.”— said Lila , making a face.
—“ What about them?”—
—“ They
don’t talk to journalists or police officers. But they talk a lot to
high-class prostitutes. There’s an exclusive escort agency in the
building.”—
Mara
put the glass down on the table.
—“ So that’s how they like women… That explains the look of the receptionists… and the expensive perfume in the reception area.”—
—“ There’s a very discreet agency a couple of floors down. They work with almost all the executives at Atmos Systems,” Lila said triumphantly.
—“ But what good is that to me?”— Mara asked
.
Lila
was thrilled to reply:
—“ They accept new girls if they meet certain requirements. And you fit the profile exactly.”—
—“ And that’s a compliment?”—
—“ No. That’s an opportunity. Isn’t that what you’re looking for?”—
Mara
applied. And she had to model in underwear for the agency's internal
catalog. They added her to the website, and after a couple of days, she
got lucky.
An executive from Atmos System named Thomas asked to see her.
They met via video call. And he wasn't the type of client Mara
expected to find at an escort agency. She had imagined some kind of perverted old man or someone with lewd tastes.
But
the man turned out to be very ordinary, indistinguishable from anyone
else. He didn't try to impress her, nor did he talk about money. And he
liked to cook.
He
was a single man. They agreed to meet at his home. He sent her a taxi,
and when he greeted her with a smile, he showed her his apartment, where
a restored old record player stood out.
When she looked at him closely, Thomas told her that he liked to put on old jazz records while preparing dinner.
—“ It’s over a hundred years old. It was very difficult to get it in that condition.”—
—“ Does it still work?”—
—“ Of course,” he replied proudly . —“Sometimes it makes little noises , but it keeps turning.”
Mara
smiled at the response. It was an unusual gesture for her, but she liked the guy.
They talked for hours, touching on topics like music, cities, and food. They never talked about work.
As they were finishing up, the maid appeared to clear the dishes. Thomas thanked her for her service and introduced her to Mara . The girl smiled in response.
And Mara Vale carefully noted that detail. Thomas treated the girl with respect. That complicated things.
After dinner, they had coffee. And then, they made love.
During the second meeting, and before saying goodbye, Thomas handed her a package.
—“ What is it?”— asked a surprised Mara
.
—“ A jazz record. And a portable record player… so you can listen to it. I noticed the other night that you liked it.”—
She raised an eyebrow.
—“ Do you always give gifts to unknown women?”—
—“ No. Only those who truly know how to listen.”—
For the first time in a long time, Mara felt an uncomfortable pang in her heart. She had promised herself that with Thomas it would only be sex. But she felt a pang of nostalgia.
The dinner and bed encounters between them continued, so much so that
Thomas began to trust Mara Vale a little more .
In
general, he rarely spoke about work. But when he did, he hinted at the
existence of small cracks in the paradise he seemed to inhabit.
—“ Companies always gain an advantage if no one is controlling them.”—
—“ No one should trust corporations.”—
One night, after drinking too much, he fell into a deep sleep after making love.
Mara
waited a while to be sure. Then, naked, she wandered around the room
looking for information. She discreetly opened a drawer and found a
backup biometric ID.
He examined it closely, while considering whether to duplicate it or keep it to access the company's files.
And thanks to that credential, that night he crossed a threshold Thomas
never imagined existed. He stayed with the executive until dawn.
The credential allowed him access to Atmos Systems ' servers , which
were full of reports. Literally thousands or tens of thousands.
Mara
searched for information among a sea of documents . She found nothing, until she opened a folder intended for insurance companies . The title read: Quarterly Atmospheric Balance.
Inside
were tables, graphs, and percentages. Some columns looked as if they
had been written by someone who couldn't remember that human beings
existed.
Several titles caught his attention: Acceptable mortality. Compensation cost. Reputational risk. Population replacement rate.
Mara
felt a pit in her stomach, because she had seen that language before. It
was the jargon used in her own company. The language didn't refer to
people. It only considered what they called acceptable losses.
These
were reports of numbers that coldly analyzed whether the consequences
of their actions, such as illnesses or deaths, could be compensated with
insurance rates.
Like that authorization he had signed years before. He continued reading. He could see that Atmos Systems
deliberately reduced the oxygen concentration in certain parts of the
city to improve air quality for wealthier areas, which could afford to
pay a higher rate for the service.
Insurance
covered illnesses and potential deaths. Compensation payments were
cheaper than improving air quality. It was mathematically profitable.
He opened the voting
history .
And
Thomas
appeared several times voting against it . Then… Approved unanimously.
He looked for the approval document, which stated verbatim: " Mr. Thomas Rainer is reminded that the continuation of his executive pension plan depends on cooperation with corporate policy. "
Mara
slowly closed her eyes. She could imagine the scene exactly as it had
happened to her. He, too, had signed under enormous pressure. Just like
her.
Before
making any decision, he carefully planned each step. Considering the
number of lives any action could affect, he weighed every alternative.
He
ultimately decided against planting explosives. Releasing documents or
speaking with journalists were also not realistic options. The
corporation controlled such vast sums of money that it could buy
influence in politics and the media.
With
his privileged access, he could alter the behavior of the production
plant and disrupt the logistical flow of air mixtures virtually at will.
And he could eliminate any trace of manipulation or distribution order.
He
programmed the highest quality, highest oxygen concentration mixtures
to begin being automatically sent to District Thirty-Two.
And the degraded mixes… changed recipients. They were redirected to the private departments of the executives.
Except for one. Thomas never appeared on that list.
Several months passed.
Mara
and Lila were drinking in an old bar while a saxophone played from a speaker in the corner of the bar.
A news report appeared on a screen.
" Five Atmos Systems executives request medical leave after developing chronic respiratory conditions."
Lila
burst out laughing as she said:
-" How odd."-
—“ That’s right. Very much so.”— Mara said as she toasted the news.
—“ Do you think it will be contagious?”—
Mara
shook her head as she answered:
—“ No. It’s just bad air quality, nothing more.”— He took a sip of beer.
Thomas appeared on the screen ; the caption read that he had resigned. The journalist asked him why he was leaving such a promising career at the company.
He simply replied:
—“ There are places where one stops breathing long before getting sick.”—
Lila
looked at Mara .
—“ You didn’t include it.”—
—“ No. I didn’t do it.”—
-" Because?"-
Mara
took several seconds to answer. Then she watched the ash-laden rain hitting the bar's windows.
—“ Because he was already having a very hard time.”—
That night she returned to her apartment alone. She took the old record player out of its box. And she put on the record that Thomas had given her.
He put the record on. And little by little, the sound of a mournful saxophone filled the room.
Through
the window, the lights reflected on the wet streets. Somewhere in the
thirty-second district, some boys were running again, still breathless.
And in some corporate skyscraper, other men were beginning to understand how much each breath weighed.
The city remained the same.
Only a few insignificant details had changed.
END
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