Seventeen Crimes

Fifteen

It took three days, but Brie eventually had her clearance.

She spent one day in the guard access point, speaking with a guidance agent that walked her through the process. Turns out that there were a lot of threats against the embassy that she didn't know about. That she never heard about.

It was Florida. Walking outside, she enjoyed the heat and humidity of daytime, with the wonderful sun-scorching rays against her skin. She could almost feel the vitamin D being formed in her body.

While she waited, she did find her way to the ocean and, although she did not swim, but waded in the water up to her knees and drank in the massive allure of the water.

Palm trees, oak trees, maples – she fell in love with the land she had never been too. She felt like dancing the samba at the Spanish-themed restaurant that she dined at during sunset. The restaurant was near her hotel and she couldn't quite place if they were supposed to be Cuban-influenced or Mexican – or any other number of Spanish originating countries.

But she ate ceviche along side tiny tacos made with fresh, shredded purple cabbage and tomatillo salsa. And she loved it, watching as the fresh taco shells were pressed in her view and tossed on a comal. And she loved every minute of it.

Then she found Trey.

"What are you doing here?" he asked her, joining her at the bar.

"I am writing a book," she said. "What are you doing here?"

"I am enjoying some outdoor dining," he said, sitting carefully on the stool next to her.

"What, no restaurants on Mars?"

"Actually, its just the opposite. We have some very good cooks and some very good restaurants on Mars," Trey said. "I have never had my helmet off outside until I came to Earth."

"The whole lack of atmosphere thing."

"That's misleading. There is atmosphere. My mother survived her accident because of a pocket of oxygen in the cave she was in. That's the practical answer. Oxygen at just enough concentration, water melting into her mask, the like," he said. "The fact that the blow she suffered didn't completely shatter her face mask."

"I'm sure she's got some hokey idea of what she actually believes happened," Brie said.

"God saved her," Trey said.

"I don't believe that," Brie said.

"Like I said, practical," Trey said, ordering a refill on his drink. "But if my mom hadn't survived, I would not be here."

"Stephan wouldn't have married, had a second family."

Trey shook his head, pursing his lips. "No, he probably would have married. He probably would have had kids again, I don't know. That's a path that was never followed, and those are stories that were never written."

Brie smiled. "You write?"

Trey shook his head. "Flight plans, flight reports, and when I am back home, I work the soil in my family's grow facilities."

"Pot, huh?"

He shrugged. "That's my – our Dad's passion. I followed more after my mom and tend the herbals."

"But not pot. What, you never smoked?" Brie asked.

"Ah – I didn't say that." Trey smiled.

There he was. Brie's heart bottomed out as Trey turned at the bar, and that flash of her father shown through.

"I bet its a sin," Brie said, swirling her drink ever so gently.

"In some circles, maybe," Trey said. "And I am not fully equipped to defend the argument for one way or an other."

"And why not?" Brie asked, picking up and setting down her drink. "You're mom is this some great theologian. The Savior of the whole Mars Missions. I have dug through a lot of past articles."

"That's the funny part; my mom has no formal theological training whatsoever," Trey said.

"I find that ludicrous. No training whatsoever?"

Trey shrugged. "Our dad has more formal college experience than my mom does."

Brie chugged her drink. "What? That can't be right."

"That is absolutely right. I mean, Milo and the Mars Program paid for her to take certain scientific courses, but there is no degree on the other side of those courses."

"How did she get into the program then?"

"One damn good recruitment video," he said. "Look, my mom has said it for years: you don't send all scientists to colonize a new world. They will get so caught up in their work that they will forget to eat, and unless you send someone dedicated to building a supply chain and building a life, society will cripple itself. Paraphrased, of course."

"No, I don't believe you," Brie said.

Trey held out his hands.

"An example from recent history. When the Pilgrims first left England, and then mainland Europe, to come to the New World, who came?"

"Religious pricks filled with their hypocritical piety and distorted viewpoints."

"Ah, well – we will leave the modern viewpoint finder here in the present."

"Why? I happen to like my viewpoint," Brie said, dipping the last of her fries in the sauce. "Are you telling me that it isn't valid."

"No, actually, I am not," Trey said. "I highly value your viewpoint, but for the subject at hand – we can't objectively look at why the colonists first came to the new world if we hold onto our prejudices and viewpoints. Actually, we can't discern the truth of any historical situation if we look at it from the lens of today."

"I took classes that required me to think critically," Brie said. She ordered another drink. "One for you?" She asked. "Oh, wait, you are too young."

Trey shrugged; he ordered another appetizer instead.

"They have a dish here that we serve on Mars," Trey said, as he rearranged the condiments in front of him. "I asked my aunt, and she said it was a dish recommended by the early colonists to Mars."

"What's in it?" Brie asked.

"Rabbit," Trey said.

"Oh, gross," Brie said.

"What's wrong with it?" Trey asked.

"I can't eat rabbit."

"Are you objecting to eating rabbit for religious reasons?" Trey asked.

"For religious reasons?" Brie asked. "I am objecting to eating Peter Rabbit. What the hell do you mean, for religious reason?"

"The consumption of rabbits is actually forbidden in the Torah, in the same section as the banning of eating pork," Trey said. "Along with a whole host of things that for one reason or another, are used to condemn people."

"A lot of things are used to condemn people," Brie said. "We are getting awfully close to the theology discussion you told me you weren't having."

The waiter returned and placed the appetizer tray in front of Trey and the drink in front of Brie.

"Maybe I am," he said. Trey looked at Brie. "Are you up for that kind of discussion?"