The sun outside the dark-paned windows made way for the moon. Eventually, it would unveil itself to another Eastern horizon. The barman polished glass wear methodically and looked at his watch. “Can I get you another, Madame?” Beth looked down at her empty wine glass, “One more, merci.” Her green eyes darted aimlessly around the airport bar. A handsome French man walked in with a beautiful woman draped around his shoulders. They sat at a table and kissed. Paris, thought Beth, this is too familiar. A young woman to the right of her read a novel and an old man who looked vaguely familiar read Le Monde. “Voilà.” The barman placed a glass of red wine in front of Beth and went back to cleaning.
Friend book had been banned since 2089 and cell phones were illegal. Michelle’s grandmother told tales of a time when corrupt presidents ruled the world and something called the Z-phone eliminated human conversation. Michelle read about it in history books and couldn’t fathom living in a society where a tête-à-tête was erased, by a phone of all things! Absorbed in a biography about Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf, she glanced at her watch. French class started in fifteen minutes. She would have to rush if she wanted to be on time.
It didn’t matter if she died. This would be her last mission. Karin collapsed on her bed and examined her feet, they were black and blue, and her toes were swollen. Last month at the Paris opera had been excruciating. Demanding rehearsals and performances every evening. She didn’t love dancing anymore. Not when the war raged all around her. Disgusted by the Vichy regime, Karin hated when Serge made them perform to German soldiers. He didn’t have a choice, but she wanted him to resist. She grabbed the fake passport she’d been hiding all week. They always ended after curfew and risked getting jailed. Karin had to be careful if she wanted to see him again. He was everything to her.