Diamond Sky

Diamond Sky

In the last beautiful place left on Earth, Peony spent every night staring up at the stars she created. There was something glorious about the way she brought them to life. Her parents would say she was gifted, waxing poetic on how a piece of her soul was infused into each twinkling pixel on the screens above. But Peony would only roll her eyes and scoff that they were strings of code. Secretly though, she was pleased.

It had been three years since she started working at the Resort.  In a world where beauty was so scarce, the resort provided an escape from polluted reality. It was a playground for the rich; a simulation. As the meteorological programmer, Peony’s job was to provide that beauty. She tinkered away at the holographic dome encasing the club’s sprawling grounds, coding the display and planning out each day’s forecast. Her passion and frustrations went into every storm, from the crashing thunder and roiling sky to the tiniest of raindrops that splashed in the synthetic ocean. She changed the seasons and painted sunrises, but of all her projects, she most enjoyed the stars. They glimmered persistently even when blanketed in the darkest of night skies; she would even dare to call them hopeful. It was Peony’s handiwork that drove the wealthy to their tanning salons and observatories, where they could get a taste of true “natural” beauty. It was the kind of beauty that everyone loved- and was willing to pay handsomely for. At least, this had been Peony’s naïve belief.

Peony hadn’t been at the resort the first time it was sabotaged. She was miles away in her rickety car, flying through the winding turns of the neighborhoods she despised. Driving fast was her escape, and the easiest way to block out the view of the crumbling buildings and withering, dying trees that made up her hometown. She wouldn’t ease up on the gas pedal until she emerged in the Resort's serenity. Normally, she’d have the grounds to herself; free to roam the luxurious garden that served as the foyer under a pastel sunrise of her own creation. But for the first time in decades, protesters swarmed the gates, and, just over the ridge of palm trees that defined the false horizon, billowing up from a canopy- was a plume of smoke. At the time, Peony had been astounded. Bewildered and confused, she had been willing to blame the incident on anything; any plausible reason that shrouded the hard-to-swallow truth.

When Peony pulled into the front drive a month after the arson, she was met again by the swarm of protesters. She’d learned to look away as she entered, keep her eyes averted from the paper signs and blazing eyes. But no matter how hard she tried to ignore the furious people surrounding her, their shouting penetrated her defenses. 

“Earth-killers!” they cried. “Murderers!” Peony kept her eyes on the road. “Resource-sucking leeches!” She was only a few meters from the gate. “How does it feel to live in an aquarium? Do you like your pretty glass tank?” This one did the trick. Peony’s head jerked upwards, and before she could catch herself, her eyes landed on the man whose voice had risen above the clamor. He stood proudly before the gate, holding aloft a sign that read: “NO MORE FALSE STARS.” His eyes sparkled with the crowd’s collective fury. Peony felt the sudden urge to roll down the window and ask him what he meant. But the guard waved her through the gate, and she pulled into the aquarium that had been her home for so long.

There was something soothing about the view from Peony’s observatory tower. From her perch, she could see the pools and gardens, tennis courts and trails. Everything was seamless in its construction; from the artificial lawns to the mineral- enriched water glittering in the lakes. It was a breath-taking sight, inspired by the wonder that the outdoor world was reputed to have been many decades earlier. Peony had no recollection of those days. She’d grown up in a city veiled by smoke, where beauty was the least of anyone’s concerns. Her parents had been dreamers, a rare thing in such a town. They’d wanted the best for her, so when an internship had opened up at the most beautiful place on earth, they’d scrambled to prepare her for interviews and applications. Peony remembered the day she’d gotten the acceptance call. Her mother’s eyes had shone with excitement, and her father had picked her up and swung her around the way he had when she was but a little girl. “We’re so proud of you!” they said tearfully. “You’re going to do amazing things, flower.” Three years had passed, but Peony still didn’t think she had. When she sat atop her crow’s nest, looking out at the domed ceiling, she could almost convince herself it was truly the sky, and that it belonged to her alone. But her job as a junior employee entailed more than playing with computers and stargazing. She had to do her part as a fill-in receptionist, occasional spa worker, and part-time valet. The resort had recently become desperate for workers, which had forced unsociable people like Peony out of their tech-filled caves and into painful customer service jobs. Peony hadn’t realized just how snobby, shallow, and well- difficult some of the patrons could be. She didn’t truly believe the rich folks who frequented the place were inherently flighty; but something about the resort, whether by design or not- had the tendency to turn even the most dedicated of souls lazy and apathetic. Peony only hoped the same wouldn’t happen to her.  

Peony didn’t know what brought her down to the gate later in the afternoon. Or, rather, she did- but was ashamed to admit she was drawn to the protesters lingering at the entrance. For more than a month, she had ignored their passionate cries and rousing speech, yearning to listen, all the while hating the rebellious parts of her that found them so compelling. She snuck past the guards to wander the crowds, sneaking glimpses at the signs and listening to the chants. The protester who’d caught her attention earlier that morning stood on a make-shift stage with a megaphone in hand, addressing the audience his commanding voice had drawn. “And so, we must continue to raise our voices in solidarity for our neighbours, and for those who cannot speak for themselves. I will shout for this planet until my voice goes hoarse. We won’t allow this so-called paradise to plague our world any longer.” The crowd roared their assent, and the young man stepped shyly down. He shook hands with his fellow protesters, but stopped when his eyes met Peony’s.

“I don’t believe I’ve seen you before.” He commented amiably. “New to the cause?”

She shrugged, suddenly glad that her car windows were tinted. What would he think if he knew she worked for his great enemy? “Just checking it out. I wondered what all the fuss was about.”

He nodded; friendly grin never leaving his face. “Well, I hope you find a place here. We need everyone we can get.”

Peony decided to ask the question that had been weighing her down. “Why are you so passionate about this?” she gestured vaguely around the mob.

His grin slipped a little, but he recovered quickly. “Haven’t you seen what they do here? They create a false bubble, a little replica of the outdoors for only those rich enough to afford it. Meanwhile, the rest of the world suffers as they sap the real world of everything it has left.”

Peony didn’t know how to answer.

“What’s your name?” he asked her.

“Peony” she replied.

“Well, Peony, have you ever gotten the chance to look up at the stars? Not the fake ones they make, but real stars?”

“No. I’ve never been able to see them from my house. The pollution hides them.”

“Exactly.” He said, spreading his arms. Peony had the feeling he had proven some kind of point, though she couldn’t quite place what it was. “Next time you get the chance- take a look. The fumes aren’t quite so bad here.” He swept away into the throng before the girl could ask his name.

Peony’s conversation with the enigmatic protester bothered her all day, like a fly buzzing out of reach. Perhaps if she’d been more focused she would have noticed the bomb nestled between the panels of her sky dome, a baby bird tucked safely into its nest. But there was also the chance she would have let it be. She wanted so badly to see the real stars, to watch how they glimmered in a cloudless sky. She ended up getting her wish; but in a way she’d have never predicted.

In a dazzling, earth-shaking explosion, the sky came crashing down on the Resort. The gaping hole it left in its stead allowed Peony to gaze at the twilight above her. Sure enough, she could see the stars trying to peek through the clouds of fumes that obscured them from view. They were drab things compared to Peony’s stars- yet her breath still caught as she watched them twinkle in the velvet night. For a moment, Peony let herself be a dreamer, embracing their glimmering light. As she breathed in the light of the stars for the very first time, she felt the exotic sensation of hope.