Zen II: Tic Tac Tao

1. A Game of You

So many things she has chosen to forget. But even now, she can summon the ghost of how it was, the crisp smell of early mornings, the cherry just coming into blossom, before the starling chatter of young voices shattered the peace.

There is no peace here. Always eyes watching.

She had learnt early to smile, to please people. The art of seeming, how to hide her thoughts, for individuality was not prized, save for the gracious and mannered. Little fret of resentment; she had been given young to their care, a pretty child. Perhaps the dim memory that was ‘mother’ had wanted a better life for her. Or perhaps she had just been tired...Still, it left one wonderfully free to choose; more than once, she had been punished for spinning wonderful tales to the other trainees of her past. But not too severely - other eyes observed. There were lessons to be learned, advancement to be had for one who could adapt, who could absorb the shifting realities of life into her very bones and skin. One mask after another, used and discarded, she moved behind them, free in her inner self, that would not admit to any ties or bonds. Even now.

No escape from here. An orbital, above the sea and clouds. Such irony, to spread the glittering riches of the world beneath the feet of those who would not touch it again. They move swiftly to the exercise dome, turn their faces up to the light, stand solitary and caught within the web of their own thoughts, reluctant to leave and return to their rooms. No bars here. What need is there, in a place that has no oxygen outside its walls?

Called from her thoughts by the stolid presence of a guard at the door.

“You got a visitor.”

“Why, thank you. I’m always at home to callers.”

And she wonders who it can be, as she is escorted down the corridor. Visitors are rare, and she has not had one before. Maybe a bleeding heart from some rehabilitation program? But heaven is rarely so profligate with its bounty.