“Karen's Folly”
By Laszlo Belarski
The control room was crowded. Dozens of technicians were
behind their consolles, performing last minute tests; scrolling data from many
monitors reflected on their tired faces. Frantic communications exchanged
through their earpieces seemed to charge the room with tense anticipation.
Through the panoramic window, the titanic launching bay was visible,
silhouetted against Earth’s blue disc.
The previous five years on board Orbital Shipyard Aurora Borealis had
been frantic, with staff on double shifts to complete the preparation for this
launch. Nothing of this scale had ever been privately funded on the Shipyard.
Astronomic cash injections from the Van Buren-Meltzer estate had made the
project possible. Until today, the complex structure the technicians had
nicknamed ‘Karen’s Folly’ stood finished, its gargantuan bulk way too huge for
the thin rigs of the launching bay. It could have never been built on Earth.
From the control room it looked like a colossal domed greenhouse
covered in solar panels, surrounded by thin cylinders strangely reminiscent of
the towers of a fairy tale castle, down to the pointy conical roofs. Massive
reactors protruded from under the dome.
Yet there was no pride in the eyes of the hundreds involved in the
project. All these men and women had spent years building the craft. But,
minutes from launch, it still felt like an unthinkably expensive exercise in
futility.
For Karen’s Folly had no mission other than drift away from the solar
system for eternity, carrying on board a single passenger.
***
Karen Van Buren-Meltzer looked sardonically at the others in the
room. Despite her unusual outfit, a space suit adapted to her thin frame, she was
not the one feeling uneasy. Her son Julius Junior looked very nervous in his
impeccable suit. Her daughter Irene, the eldest, was staring blankly at her
feet. Their lawyers stood behind them, livid and defeated like caged sharks.
Karen smiled, remembering how the fools had tried all manners of legal
actions to stop her, including various attempts at proving her insane. But no,
the numerous courts had decided, the old crone, who happened to be the current
sole administrator of the Van Buren-Meltzer fortunes, was ‘extravagant, but
lucid’. She still sniggered at the definition. If an eccentric, terminally ill
79-year-old billionaire decided to drain her considerable riches in a
megalomaniac space project instead of thinking of her lineage, she was entirely
within her rights to do so.
“How very touching,” said Karen dryly, “you all came to say goodbye. If
I didn’t know better, I could even cry,”.
“So,” said Julius bitterly. “This is goodbye, then.”
“Don’t look so upset, darling,” came her reply, “I preferred you when
you filed that lawsuit last month.” She eyed the long-time family lawyer. “How
disappointing of you, Lipowicz. Child abuse accusations are so unoriginal…” The
lawyer looked away, muttering something.
Julius started, “Mother, you know that it wasn’t-“
“Hush, darling,” she interrupted, “I know perfectly well what it was.
But I don’t hold any grudges. Your late father would have been proud of you,
dear.”
Irene tried a different approach. “Mom, is this what you really want?”
she gestured at the Folly, visible through the window. “To die alone in a giant
spacecraft?”
“What should I do instead?” answered Karen sweetly, “wait to rot away
on Earth, surrounded by hypocrites lusting after a slice of my cake?”
Irene’s eyes hardened. “You’re so selfish.”
“There, there, honey,” Karen comforted her mockingly. “It’s not like
you’re going to starve, with your weapon industries making fortunes off the
lives of millions. Hardly altruistic, I’d say…”
A technician walked in the room, breaking the awkward silence that
followed. “All ready, Miss Van Buren. We’re only waiting for you.”
Karen nodded, then smiled at her family. “Well, children. The time has
come. I leave you to your world of backstabbing, corruption and hypocrisy.” Her
tone was dry, her words tired. “I’ve seen enough of its ugliness.” She took her
helmet and walked to a gangway leading to the corridor connected to the Folly’s
airlock. She turned around. “Don’t bother shedding any tears for me, or my
money.” She waved and disappeared behind a door.
***
Much later, alone in her Folly, Karen saw the reactors exhausting
their powerful bursts of energy and unstrapped herself from the seat. She
looked back through the curved surface of the dome. Earth and the Moon were
just two coins lost in a black pocket. The sight relieved her.
She turned to see her lifetime project towering all around her. She had
checked and discussed every detail of it. Years had been spent perfecting each
sector. The interior of the massive dome had been landscaped into a vast
forest, complete with a lake. Atmosphere and water were regenerated by
sophisticated solar-powered filtering systems. She removed her spacesuit, her
bare feet enjoying the touch of the fragrant grass.
She walked for a long time, eventually reaching a central structure
resembling a glass coffin. She laid down on it, looking up at the trees
silhouetted against space. She smiled and pressed a small depression in the
glass.
With a whirring sound, the forest was populated by three-dimensional
projections. There were glittering fairies, galloping unicorns, playful pixies
and elves. Dragons flew gracefully around the dome, manticores stalked among
the trees; nymphs played by the water. Gnomes peeked from under mushrooms,
while the sea serpents’ sinuous necks broke the lake’s surface. Centaurs and
fauns explored the forest, ogres hid from them in the shadows.
Karen smiled, taking all of this in. A daring pixie, beautifully
rendered in every small detail, fluttered inches from her face. She admired the
perfect butterfly wings, the gracefully modelled hands. For the first time in
years, she laughed of joy. Like a sleeping beauty in a fairy tale, Karen lied
on her crystal bed.
Her Folly led her slowly drifting through space, taking with her what
she thought was worth saving from her world: its innocence, the purity of its
legends, the simple truth of her childhood dreams.
END
© Copyright Laszlo
Belarski 2005