The Courageous Clovelly Sisters Amazing Reunion

Portia wasn’t sure when it began to percolate up to the surface of her consciousness, but she hadn’t seen Franklin in a few days. She found herself on a mini-quest to find him.
He wasn’t with Turkish, which Portia knew right away because she was nearly always with Turkish. He wasn’t following Kate around, asking a thousand questions about the journey, about the colony, about her new found near immortality. He wasn’t even following Bea around, as Bea spent a lot of time with Kate. Nor was he following Jack around, asking a thousand questions about the inner workings of the colony or the hovercraft he built from scratch or any of the other ingenious gadgets Jack rigged. He wasn’t even shadowing Twelve who had taken it upon him to perform daily in Rex’s bar. Those were Franklin’s usual haunts. Portia was at a loss.
Portia found Franklin in the StarMaster 5050, hunched over his data pad, typing.
“What are you doing?”
“Writing.”
“Whatcha writing?”
“My screen play.”
“What’s it called?”
“The Courageous Clovelly Sisters’ Amazing Reunion.”
Portia frowned. That was not a nice title. “I suppose it’ll be changed in production anyway.”
Franklin stopped typing and faced Portia. “Everything about this journey has been so smegging cinematic. Did you see the way Bea held out her hand to Kate just before they embraced?”
“I saw.”
“It was like age looking in a mirror and seeing youth. I couldn’t’ have written a better scene!”
“Look, how much are you planning on sharing with the audience?”
“Everything!”
“Everything?”
“Everything.”
Portia sat down next to Franklin. This is what Kate was trying to hint at gently, about outsiders. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to mention the whole fountain of youth thing.”
“Really? Why not?”
“Because.”
“Because the Clovellians asked you not to? Don’t be silly, they’re just afraid of change. All they know of Earth is fifty years outdated. Earth’s changed; the whole philosophy of the Corporation has changed. It’s inclusive now. They don’t know what’s best for them.”
“The Corporation coming here is not what’s best for the Clovellians.”
“And what makes you such an expert?”
Portia found herself growing frustrated with Franklin. “Don’t you remember why Micheal Connelly was striking? Don’t you remember how horrible the lives of Stationers are? They work nearly constantly and make now money but everything’s expensive and there’s no room for improvement or even a decent quality of life.”
“That’s just propaganda.”
“It’s not propaganda!”
“We’ll be rich, Portia. Think about it, rich. You’ll never have to work again. I’ll never have to work again. I’ll finally be my own man!”
“Your own man.”
“It’ll be fantastic! I’ve dreamed of this since I was little boy with the Ravens. No more being subjected to someone’s whims or tying my fate to their fortunes. I’m free. I’m my own man.”
“No, you aren’t. The Corporation is going to descend on this planet like the plague and they won’t negotiate all nice with lawyers, they’ll just take it over. And then they’ll build thousands of high rise buildings for condos for the rich, so no rich person will ever have to grow old again, and the entire planet will be covered in a metropolis and it’ll be worse than Earth.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“It’s a paradise here and it would be really easy to destroy it if we’re not careful.”
“This planet is under populated and under developed. The right real estate developer could really make something of this mud ball.”
“Please,” Portia said, “just think of the people whose lives you’ll be changing forever if you let the Corporation about this fountain of youth.”
“It’s too late.”
“What.”
“I already claimed my finder’s fee. One hundred thousand UGOs. I’m a made man.”
Portia punched Franklin. She hated violence, detested the idea of willfully hurting another living being, but it felt good to feel his soft flesh give way under her knuckles. Very satisfying. She should have done this earlier.
“What’ you do that for!” Franklin rubbed his jaw.
“You scum! You shallow, shallow, money grubbing leech of a man!” Portia went after Franklin again but he ran around to the other side of the table.
“It’s information and that’s fair trade!”
“You’re talking about people’s lives! You haven’t even considered how this is going to accept anyone else but you!”
She moved to the left and Franklin moved to the right. Frustrated, she picked up his data pad and threw it against the wall.
“What it! That’s expensive!”
“Oh, buy yourself a new one!”
Portia picked up a glass and threw it at Franklin’s head. He ducked. It smashed against the wall.
“This is useless,” Portia said.
“So are you going to stop throwing things at me?”
Portia growled. “When the others find out what you’ve done, you’re going to wish I put you out of your misery.”