Seventeen Crimes

Eight

The weight of the doors sliding closed always seemed a thousand times heavier than the time before. Such was the cycle in Brie's life.

The weight. The order of the cell she spent most of her time in since her incarceration. Being let out on the command, on the whim of an unseen force.

Brie never understood the exact charges against her. The rumors of the seventeen crimes bantered about in conspiracy circles only grew louder now that she was behind bars, subject to something so obscene she hadn't been told the joke.

She was allowed visitors. But as the length of her incarceration grew, the people that visited her grew shorter. To almost zero.

"On your feet, Prisoner 141334," the guard said. "Face the wall, you know the position."

Brie stood and followed the command. But instead of being taking to interrogation, she was led to the visitor's space.

The room, about twenty feet by fifteen feet, had two rows of tables that sit about four people each. The tables were bolted to the ground, and the chairs were actually stools that swung out and back in at liberty.

Dylan stood at the edge of the table, dressed in the black suit dress that Brie bought for her.

"Dylan," Brie said, holding back her surprise – and her touch.

How long had it been since she'd been touched by another human, in a way besides a search? Had a gentle hand hold her hand, or fingers caress her cheek or her back?

Fire lit its passion in her chest, for despite all that happened, Brie still loved Dylan, and wanted to press her lips against their mouth, their neck.

Dylan took a deep breath as well. "Brie." They motioned to sit at the table, no outward sign of affection.

"I am here in a semi official role," Dylan said.

"It's been so long. I am so happy to see you," Brie said, offering her hand across the table.

Dylan ignored it.

"I have been talking with your brother and with the ambassador team at the Martian embassy, and I think we have come to an agreement about how to move forward and obtain your freedom," Dylan said.

"I can't wait to get out of here and go back to our apartment -."

"There is no 'us'," Dylan said, firmly.

"What do you mean?"

"I told you what I meant, and I meant every word I said," Dylan said. "We are through. I am using my influence and contacts to get you your freedom, but it isn't so we can be together. I have already moved on in life and I am ready to close the doors on us. I suggest you do the same."

The same, familiar sting.

Brie leaned forward. "I have done nothing wrong. Tell me what I have done wrong," she said.

"I think you know what you did wrong."

"What crime have I committed?"

"That's a far different matter than what you have done wrong," Dylan said. "I'm not exactly sure what crime you committed, beyond ask the secretary of green energy initiatives the wrong question."

"So, the conspiracy theories about being imprisoned and sent to Mars are true?" Brie asked.

"I don't have that answer," Dylan said. "But, I do have a way to secure your freedom. Your brother, and your father, are willing to sponsor your passage to Mars, and to Selah."

"I don't want to go to Mars," Brie said. "I want to stay here, on Earth."

"That is not an option. You take this sponsorship and you will be free," Dylan said. "You will board a spacecraft with a one-way ticket to Mars, where you can make a new life for yourself."

"Come with me," Brie said, pressing her hand to the table. "It's not a life without you."

Dylan's face didn't change. "It's going to have to be, because whether you like it or not, you are bound for Mars. The question becomes do you want to take the slow trip, bound on a spacecraft sent by the Earth to Mars as a political prisoner, to live in a facility that isn't built yet, nor have a reasonable chance to build a facility when you arrive; or, do you want to arrive after a flight of roughly twenty minutes, and into a ready-built home?"

Well, since Dylan put it that way, Brie considered the better option to be the second one.

"Come with me," Brie repeated. "Come with me. Marry me."

"Our marriage wouldn't be recognized on Mars. My gender-fluid status wouldn't be recognized on Mars," Dylan said. "I would have to identify as my born cisgender and I would not like that."

"They would have to accept it."

"They would tolerate it. The United Nations, and two-thirds of the Earth's nations are recognizing the sovereignty of Mars to rule and govern themselves."

"Why? Why give up so easy? What happened?" Brie asked.

"The Chinese colony on Mars blasted the Chinese vessel out of the sky last month. Twenty-six people died. China can't regain control of their colony, and no one wants to start a war with an enemy that has a technological advantage."

"Why doesn't China do what its always done?" Brie asked.

Dylan leaned forward. "Mars has the advantage. You have a choice to make."

Dylan stood, signally that they wanted to leave.

"How long do I have to decide?" Brie asked.

"Until the end of the week, as far as I am aware," Dylan said.

"Will I see my lawyer?"

"Maybe. I don't know. I am not in contact with her."

 The guards signaled for Brie to stand and leave the visitor room.

(945)