The Paragon of Eden

Part 1

Deelia... Deelia... Deelia...

The sand was never this fun to play around again...

Deelia...

The cakes would never taste the same again...

Deelia...

Will she ever see her mother again? Her father?

No...

The guards had a rough hand. Was that what you called the people who took you and your kin by the arms, by the neck, by the chains, to your cell? Deelia didn't know where she was going. There was always a part of her that could ignore the worst of a situation. People said she was a nice person. She was always happy, on her home world. The cityscapes were full of color, the land was full of nature, and the sky was full of stars. Life was full of joys. How couldn't you be happy?

And when you saw what the rest of your life would look like, even if it was bound to be short, how could you not miss your old home?

Deelia watched the machinery pass her by as she was nearly dragged along. She had heard their remarks on her beauty, her innocence. They mocked her, told her the things they would do. She looked around, at the dark and rusty metal, the stained resins, the dented pipes, and blinking lights. There was a constant sound of beeping and a shrill, industrial screech. Everything was dirty. The men were dirty. She didn't remember seeing any women...

And the mind that developed this kind of architecture, if that was what this was called, would be put to shame by nearly any other invention of man. This place reflected its purpose: to house and support the lowest of the low in the galaxy. There was no thought behind these structures because there was no intention for art. It must have started out as a pragmatic solution to an expensive economy, and then it turned into the aesthetic of the space pirates and their rotting teeth and their stinking breath and their snide insults...

And they would go on and on and on about how she was going to be their toy...

No. Don't think about that. Think about home, about father and mother. Think about the happiest of days. She remembered tasting the new flavors at her favorite ice cream parlor with her friends on a night out in the city square. The space jets burned their blue thrusters above them, leaving the atmosphere and creating a signature of bright blue twirls to decorate the scenery of blinking stars. The neon lights of the homes in the skyscrapers glowed pink and green and purple. The mirror windows reflected the atmosphere of the hoi polloi, and the hoi polloi kept their spirits high. And though her friends had told her that the store was going out of style, she was happy to be there and in the moment. And they all seemed to appreciate that for itself. Despite the fact that the store was going out of style.

And her life was going out now, too, huh?

They went down a few more tunnels, each one harboring the musty atmosphere of all the fuming drugs the hedonists of space indulged in. They talked to a few more people, in a language that she couldn't understand, saw a woman among the men.

She was nearly naked, and her body bore scars, and her eyes looked dead.

They went down a few more tunnels, each one getting dark as they went lower into the layers of this massive vessel. The rust and gunk accumulated here with a ferocious abundance, a clue to the neglect that this place was shown. The smell was even worse, suggesting more than just the refuse of constructs. They were almost at the cell.