within an inch of my life. Then it’s off to the memorial service, where the entire city will gather to honour the billions of people that didn’t survive the asteroid.
Afterwards, a parade will wind its way through the streets, floats of all kinds showcasing various community groups. Following that, the outgoing Matron, Ruby Angelo, and I will have lunch and discuss the handover of power. Then it is on to the investiture ceremony and I will formally become the new Matron of Oceania.
A loud banging on my door tells me it is time.
“Ready when you are,” the first of the stylists says as they enter. The two women look far more excited than they should be, but when they stand me in front of the mirror two hours later, I am happy with the result. I look smart and authoritative, but pretty at the same time.
When I leave my room, Gail and the other women from my class are standing behind George.
“Just a minute,” I say, moving past him.
“Look at you,” Gail says. I swear I can see a tear in the corner of her eye.
“Yeah, I don’t scrub up too bad.”
Gail chuckles, but I can tell it is only halfhearted. “You’re going to do great.”
“Thank you. You, too.”
I quickly say goodbye to the other girls and wish them well before turning back to Gail.
“I’ll come back and visit when I can.”
“Don’t be silly. We’ll be fine. You’re getting out of here. Enjoy it.” She wraps her arms around me in a lightning-fast hug. “Now go before I start blubbering and make a fool of myself.”
I nod at George. “Time to go.”
The memorial service is moving as always, and I am proud to see that two hundred years after the fact there is a still an amazing turnout. During the one-minute silence at 8:23 a.m.—the exact time of impact—I have a quick look at the crowd. Every single person has their head turned towards the surface. Some have candles, others torches, but every one of them is silent. I wonder where my parents are. They never missed a Dedication Day service when I was younger. I expect them to be here today, but so far they’re nowhere to be seen. I hope they are all right.
A gong chimes to signal the end of the minute, and the crowd erupts in cheers. I don’t have time to bask in the celebrations as I am whisked off to my next engagement.
When we arrive at the parade, I take my place on the podium next to Matron Angelo and watch as she wishes all attendees well and announces the start of the parade. I am captivated by the way the citizens cheer and wave at her. By the end of the day, it will be me they wave at.
Once the last of the floats has passed the platform, I am ushered to Matron Angelo’s cart and accompany her back to Matron House. She doesn’t say a single word during the fifteen-minute drive. She just stares out the window.
When we arrive at Matron House, security escorts us inside and straight to the dining room. My butt is barely on the seat before the servers are placing lunch in front of me. Matron Angelo picks up her fork and starts eating. The quiet is weird.
“Is the silence thing normal?”
“Sorry?” she says, looking up from her plate.
“I was just wondering if the no-speaking thing was normal.”
She looks around like she has no idea what I’m talking about. “Oh, I never really noticed. But I guess you’re right. They do not speak very often.” She glances down, returning her attention to her food.
I am tempted to ask what I’ve done to offend her, but the fear of starting an argument keeps the words inside. Going with something far less likely to cause contention, I ask, “So what is being Matron like?”
Ruby pauses in her eating but doesn’t look up. “Everything they train you for.”
Her response is odd and only fills me with more curiosity. “But what’s it like? I’m sure it’s not like being at MITI.”
“No, you are right, it isn’t like MITI. Being Matron is challenging. There are plenty of meetings that go on forever. The staff
Afterwards, a parade will wind its way through the streets, floats of all kinds showcasing various community groups. Following that, the outgoing Matron, Ruby Angelo, and I will have lunch and discuss the handover of power. Then it is on to the investiture ceremony and I will formally become the new Matron of Oceania.
A loud banging on my door tells me it is time.
“Ready when you are,” the first of the stylists says as they enter. The two women look far more excited than they should be, but when they stand me in front of the mirror two hours later, I am happy with the result. I look smart and authoritative, but pretty at the same time.
When I leave my room, Gail and the other women from my class are standing behind George.
“Just a minute,” I say, moving past him.
“Look at you,” Gail says. I swear I can see a tear in the corner of her eye.
“Yeah, I don’t scrub up too bad.”
Gail chuckles, but I can tell it is only halfhearted. “You’re going to do great.”
“Thank you. You, too.”
I quickly say goodbye to the other girls and wish them well before turning back to Gail.
“I’ll come back and visit when I can.”
“Don’t be silly. We’ll be fine. You’re getting out of here. Enjoy it.” She wraps her arms around me in a lightning-fast hug. “Now go before I start blubbering and make a fool of myself.”
I nod at George. “Time to go.”
The memorial service is moving as always, and I am proud to see that two hundred years after the fact there is a still an amazing turnout. During the one-minute silence at 8:23 a.m.—the exact time of impact—I have a quick look at the crowd. Every single person has their head turned towards the surface. Some have candles, others torches, but every one of them is silent. I wonder where my parents are. They never missed a Dedication Day service when I was younger. I expect them to be here today, but so far they’re nowhere to be seen. I hope they are all right.
A gong chimes to signal the end of the minute, and the crowd erupts in cheers. I don’t have time to bask in the celebrations as I am whisked off to my next engagement.
When we arrive at the parade, I take my place on the podium next to Matron Angelo and watch as she wishes all attendees well and announces the start of the parade. I am captivated by the way the citizens cheer and wave at her. By the end of the day, it will be me they wave at.
Once the last of the floats has passed the platform, I am ushered to Matron Angelo’s cart and accompany her back to Matron House. She doesn’t say a single word during the fifteen-minute drive. She just stares out the window.
When we arrive at Matron House, security escorts us inside and straight to the dining room. My butt is barely on the seat before the servers are placing lunch in front of me. Matron Angelo picks up her fork and starts eating. The quiet is weird.
“Is the silence thing normal?”
“Sorry?” she says, looking up from her plate.
“I was just wondering if the no-speaking thing was normal.”
She looks around like she has no idea what I’m talking about. “Oh, I never really noticed. But I guess you’re right. They do not speak very often.” She glances down, returning her attention to her food.
I am tempted to ask what I’ve done to offend her, but the fear of starting an argument keeps the words inside. Going with something far less likely to cause contention, I ask, “So what is being Matron like?”
Ruby pauses in her eating but doesn’t look up. “Everything they train you for.”
Her response is odd and only fills me with more curiosity. “But what’s it like? I’m sure it’s not like being at MITI.”
“No, you are right, it isn’t like MITI. Being Matron is challenging. There are plenty of meetings that go on forever. The staff
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