Free Unwelcome Bodies by Jennifer Pelland

and alone. The roadies collect all of the offerings and help Callie off the stage. There is a crush of groupies waiting for her outside her dressing room, some waving full daily ration bottles as enticement, and she hesitates, her body screaming out for more water. But she has given all she can for one night. She has nothing left to trade. So she shakes her head and goes into the dressing room, alone, as always.
    Callie crawls onto the sofa, nestles the bottles to her bosom, pulls a blanket around her, and dreams of floods.
     
    * * * *
     
    “How dare you?”
    She opens her eyes to see the familiar argument brewing between her brother and her manager.
    Jeremy shrugs expansively and says, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “This happens every time. You can’t leave her alone at high tide. She needs protection.”
    “From who, herself?”
    “Yes.”
    “Look, Owen, your twin is a grown woman. She doesn’t need a babysitter. If she wants to slice her wrists open—”
    Her brother jabs a finger into her manager’s chest so hard that she can hear it thunk. “You encourage her. You like the publicity. You’re a fiend, Jeremy. An utter fiend.”
    Callie props herself up on one elbow, the tiny bottles sliding down her chest and puddling by her side. “Owen, leave Jeremy alone.”
    Owen shoots the manager one last glare, then snarls, “Get out.”
    Jeremy raises his hands in mock surrender and leaves.
    And Owen sits down at Callie’s hip, carefully avoiding all the precious plastic bottles, recycled from the desolate world outside. Some once held fizzy drinks, some cough syrup, still others carried tiny amounts of liquor on the airplanes that once criss-crossed the sky. They’re all relics of a world long gone, recycled to keep this world alive.
    Owen clasps her hands tightly and stares down at her wrists, the new scars standing out vividly against the old. “You have to stop playing full moon shows,” he says.
    “I need to play with the tides. You know that.”
    He presses her palms together, his own hands cradling hers. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be here last night. There was a sandstorm. They canceled my train. I would have met you in Albany and come out here with you, but you know how work is.”
    “Hey, I understand.” She kisses his fingertips. “Your work’s important.” Owen is part of a team of scientists working to find a way to restart the manufacturing economy without using water, or at the very least, without losing any. Their ultimate goal is to get the space program back online so they can bring back water from other solar bodies to replenish the oceans. Water is ripe for the taking on the Moon, Mars, and the comets. Many think this project is Earth’s only hope.
    Owen stands and pulls Callie to her feet along with him. “Come on. Let’s take you home.”
    “Hold on,” she says, and scoops up all of the bottles, cradling them in her arms like the baby she will never be allowed to have. Some of the groupies must have left their ration bottles for her, because there’s a small stash of them by the door. Callie carefully collects them all and places them in an old hard-sided suitcase.
    “More for the tub?” Owen asks.
    “Mm hmm.”
    “Do you have any grand plans for it, or—”
    “Not particularly.” She knows she shouldn’t lie to her brother. They’ve never kept secrets from each other. But if he knew the thoughts she was entertaining, he’d try to stop her. And between full moons, the thoughts she is entertaining are all that keep her alive.
    Owen gestures at the bulging suitcase and asks, “How are you going to get all of that through customs?”
    Callie smiles for the first time in days. “Sometimes, it’s good to be a celebrity.” 
     
    * * * *
     
    She tries not to look out the window as the train makes the desolate journey from Providence to Albany, but she can’t help it. Her vision is magnetically drawn to the reality that so horrifies her. The