Not All Memories Are Good
“The signing line goes round the corner! You’ve made it!” Anya said, all but flailing.
“Then why am I so nervous?” Victoria said.
“Because this is all new to you! Don’t worry, you’ll do fine.”
“You could be less enthusiastic, you know? You’re not helping!”
“As an agent, it is my duty to feel this excited whenever one of my writers reaches this level of success,” Anya said, feigning seriousness. “And now, let’s get ready. Permanent pen?”
“Here.”
“Spare pen?”
“Yup.”
“Spare spare pen?”
“Sure.”
The bookshop owner peeked from behind a shelf.
“Ready for the opening, Victoria?”
“As ready as I can, Mike. Let them in.”
After the first couple of autographs, Victoria found she had relaxed into her role. She smiled, chatted her fans, accepted the excited congratulations, since the news of her series having been optioned for television had Twitter abuzz, and dedicated copies of her books. She was actually enjoying herself.
“Hi, Victoria. Remember me? From school?”
Victoria looked up.
Hadrian.
*****
The Space Station Deliverance floated high above the clouds of the planet. The ship was comprised of three differentiated parts. The engineering section was the largest, since its three huge spheres not only contained the manoeuvering engines, but also communications and supplies, as well as life support.
The second section was the habitat. Personnel quarters and science labs filled the available space. Several modules had been added with time, yet it always felt cramped.
Last but not least, the huge solar panels extended like the wings of a fantastic beast from engineering, gathering energy to power the Station.
Shuttles from the surface came up frequently. But today’s visit was special, since the shuttle that was about to dock belonged to the starship that had traversed the hypergate hours ago.
Commander Vicky Vesta was in charge of the docking operations.
“Hey, nerd!”
Victoria looked up, though she knew what she was going to see.
Hadrian. She said nothing.
“Reading again?” Hadrian said, and bent down towards her. “What have you got there?”
“No!” Victoria tried to keep her magazine away from Hadrian’s prying hands, to no avail. He snatched it from her and waved it above his head. Since he was a full head taller than Victoria, all her efforts to take it back were useless.
“Weird Stories? Hey, nerdie, you’re the worst!” Hadrian laughed. “What if I take the last pages with me?”
Something snapped her. Eyes stinging, Victoria did something she had never done before: she punched him. She regretted it immediately.
“Bitch!” Hadrian yelled. Victoria was lucky: one shove was all it took for her to fall on the muddy floor. He kicked her once. He didn’t need more.
“Here you are, you useless bitch,” he said. She heard a rustle of paper, and felt the teared pages falling over her. “The nerve!”
Victoria didn’t move until she was sure Hadrian had gone. She stood, wincing with pain. At home, she’d say she had slipped in the mud and taken a bad fall.
Clutching her belly, Victoria wept all the way back home.
She didn’t pick up her teared magazine.
*****
“I remember you,” Victoria said. Her tone was so gelid that Anya realized something was wrong and stepped closer. “What do you want?”
“An autograph, of course. The guys at the pub didn’t believe me when I said I knew you from school!”
“I see.” The bastard hadn’t even bought a full book: all he held before her was the publicity booklet with the first two chapters of Victoria’s novel.
“Can you say you know me?”
“I’ll do better. I’ll sign your arm.”
“Whoa, cool!” He extended her arm before her.
Victoria scribbled several lines and signed.
“Next, please.”
Hadrian spun and walked away. Victoria saw him stop trying to decipher her writing, and she signalled Anya.
“Are you alright?” Anya asked her.
“Call security. We’re going to have a problem with that guy.”
“Why?”
“I just wrote in permanent ink on his arm that he’s a bloody bully and he can go to hell. The least I could do after what he did to me when I was a kid.”
~~~~
This is my accompanying entry for the Weekly Writing Exercise: December 11–17, 2017 at the Writer’s Discussion Group on Google+. I am responsible for creating the prompts for the Exercise, so I don’t take part, but I still like to write a story each week.
This week I challenged the writers to not write a scifi story using the prompt. Tempted as I was to write one, in the end I decided not to.
I’m not completely happy with the ending of this story. I’d have liked her to do something more drastic, but I couldn’t come up with anything else.
