Page 93 of The Lottery

On the one hand, my decree has led to immediate problems.

On the other, a flawed algorithm had these people confined to loveless relationships, based on zeros and ones instead of their true selves.

I made the right choice.

This is for the best.

I repeat this mantra in my head, trying to convince myself I was not motivated entirely by a selfish impulse.

While I toil with my thoughts, Elspeth wheels over, a knowing laugh escaping her mouth as she nears.

“Enjoying the consequences of your actions, my lad?” she says.

Her sense of humor is very pointed. Behind any joke lies a cold, hard truth.

“Would you have done things differently?” I ask.

Elspeth laughs even harder. “Of course. I never would have put myself in charge of this mission. I’d rather be dead on Earth than answering to this lot.”

Despite the pit in my stomach, I laugh in return. A little gallows humor will do me well.

“As for the algorithm,” Elspeth continues, “damned if you do, damned if you don’t.”

I cock my head at the curious statement. “How so?”

“People don’t know what they want, Marek. You know as much from trying--and failing--to motivate rich men to save the planet that made them rich. People will leave their partners now because they can, then find them again later if the stars align.”

It is a valid point, I think. The flaw when leading with intuition and feeling is that those sentiments change with time. A data-driven standard can at least anchor one's approach.

That is how I would have thought in the past. But Azalea has reshaped my way of thinking. I am a different man with her. I am better, stronger, happier.

To let a string of numbers take that away would be foolish.

Elspeth notes the shift in my face and smiles. “Whether it’s my words or your own thoughts, you seem in a better place than when I wheeled over. I’ll take credit and be on my way.”

“You deserve all the credit, Captain Millard,” I say.

“Please, the ship has crashed, my work is done. Call me Elspeth. I’m officially retired.”

“Very well,” I say. “Elspeth it is. Are you enjoying our new planet, Elspeth?”

She turns her wheelchair away and looks over her shoulder. “I am now. People are finally free to mingle, perhaps I can meet a nice young man and settle down.”

She winks and rolls through the thinning snow. I watch her go with a grin, then run through the list of duties in my head. The morning has already slipped away and there is still much to do: talk with hunters, check with farmers, coordinate with builders…

See Azalea.

I stride toward the ship, knowing I will focus better later if I can see Azalea now. But when I get out of the gravity lift and turn into the hall, I am surprised to see Ivan standing in front of my suite. He wears a brown jacket, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “I was hoping we could talk, old friend.”

I nod slowly, noticing the nervous waver in his voice. The way he shuffles from foot to foot. My plans to see Azalea will have to wait a moment longer. “Da. Of course, Ivan.” I open my door, and he follows me inside. After I remove my jacket, we take opposite chairs around my coffee table, and I study my friend intently, curious about what he has to say.

Ivan leans forward, clasping his hands together.

And then he tells me…

He tells me everything.

About him and Robert.

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