Suatre walked past a rally as he headed to the store. There was a sizable crowd of people in winter coats and hats and scarves, a colorful sea of protesters. Must be human, he thought, Deyluji don’t get cold easily. Another piece of knowledge that he didn’t know he knew. He didn’t read the signs.

He walked into the grocery store. It was weird to think of this place as a store when nothing cost anything.

The aisles were normal grocery store aisles, except there were no prices on the display labels, and there were no brands he recognized. He grabbed a box of crackers and a can of tuna fish. An employee walked past him with a small cart full of products and filled in a few blank spaces on the shelves.

In the front near a short row of...check out counters? There was a large display, a black tiered shelf full of ribboned boxes, red rose flower arrangements in vases. He was drawn towards the colorful display. Above it, a large hand lettered sign saying ORIGINAL♥ CAKES! By Ricky! Thank you NCE!

The cakes were adorable, covered in little frosted brown rabbits, frolicking, pulling up carrots, napping together. Apparently Ricky was a whiz with fondant.

The employee approached him. She smiled. She was blonde, short. Human, he thought. Then he saw small bumps on her ears, much smaller than Deyluji but in the same places. Her nametag said Mel.

“Hi! Aren’t these great?” She grinned and pointed to one cake. “This one’s my favorite.”

It was artfully decorated as a bright green lawn, a partially raided carrot garden on one end, and one rabbit bounding after another though a hole in the cake that opened up on the outside, low down as if underground. It showed a hidden stash of carrots and some bunnies munching them in a warren, surrounded by chocolate cake.

“That’s so good. I’m impressed.” This was fancier than Suatre’d ever seen in a grocery store.

“Would you like one? We just got them in. I’m sure they’ll go fast.”

“Yeah! Cool!” He lifted a small package with a single cupcake featuring a two bunnies sleeping in a heart shaped little heap. “I love this.”

“Ohhh I didn’t even see that one yet, it’s so cute!!” Mel grinned.

At the “checkout” counter, Mel scanned everything from his basket and bagged them in a cloth tote that said (Grocery Store! For everyone.) He wondered why the whole scanning deal when everything was free. But then when she got to the cupcake, she pulled out a notebook. “And what was your name?”

Suatre had been through the moneyless scan and bag line before, but they’d never asked him for any information. “Oh, um, it’s Suatre.”

She scanned the pages. “Swa...tray?”

“Yeah, it’s S, U, A, T, R, E. Last name’s DeAngeles.” He knew his name wouldn’t be in there, whatever it was. He didn’t belong here. What if she asked for his ID? He didn’t have one. Why was he having this idiot social anxiety attack now?

“I’m sorry, I don’t see your name.” She frowned. “Did you sign in with Netty for your service?”

“Oh, no, I’m sorry. I’m, um, I’m new here.” he said, stressed but curious. “I guess I don’t understand. I just thought everything was free…”

She looked at him for a second. Almost pitying. “That’s okay!” She said, perking up. “These are Originals, they’re a gift for Neighborhood Service Volunteers.”

“Oh, ok. I didn’t volunteer for anything, so, nevermi-”

“No, no, take it.” She stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm as he moved to grab his bags. She set the little box inside one. “Welcome to the neighborhood, Swa-tray.”

Suatre suddenly swallowed a lump in his throat.

“You be sure to sign up with Netty for service sometime soon. If you come by here tomorrow morning, she’ll be giving assignments out until 10.”

He thanked her and hurried out. He’d felt so awkward he hadn’t asked what exactly this service involved. She’d sounded like he was supposed to know this.

God, he needed someone he could ask questions of.

The demonstration was still gathered at the end of a wide road branching off his path back to the studio. This time he stopped and looked at them, stepping close enough to see their signs from a block away.

VOTE YES! FOR OUR FUTURE

YES ON THE UNION

CAPITALISM IS WHY WE CANT HAVE NICE THINGS

A VOTE YES IS A VOTE FOR HUMANITY

WHAT DO YOU HAVE AGAINST FREE HOUSING

And so on.

Suatre didn’t know what The Vote was yet, either. He’d seen fliers about it. He’d seen a Vote No pamphlet on his doorstep but he didn’t read it before chucking it in a recycle bin. He couldn’t vote on anything anyway. He wasn’t a citizen of this place.

He was tattooing Sorrel this evening. He wanted to get his other foot done, a match to the first. One of those symmetry-is-everything kinda tattoo clients.

Suatre had realized as he ate at his art table, that he hadn’t asked Sorrel for money because he didn’t need money. His shop/home building seemed to be his, and in the three months he’d been in town, as he called it, he’d never gotten a rent notice or anything. Food was free at the grocery store.

He hadn’t actually gone many other places. A park was down the road, it almost reminded him of his old neighborhood’s park, roses and fountains. This place had swings for kids, a big covered area where people regularly held events. Suatre went there to smoke and people watch.

He was passing the time in kind of haze. No one ever came into his shop, except for Sorrel. He didn’t have to stress about that since he didn’t need money, so he spent a lot of time sleeping on his couch or on the futon he found upstairs on the second floor. It was a tiny studio apartment, with some bland clothes he didn’t recognize in a dresser, and generic kinds of condiments in the fridge and shower. No photos or letters or anything that indicated his identity. It was creepy up there, feeling like he was just...a doll in a dollhouse.

So he slept downstairs a lot. The weird plasticky leathery black couch was confusingly comfortable and he could sleep all day and night, almost, if he wanted. A lot of days he did.

But his only client was coming over today and so he was excited.

“So, this might sound weird, but like...” Suatre said as the tattoo process began, machine buzzing over Sorrel’s foot. “Can I ask you questions about like...How things work?”

Sorrel had been motioning to open his floating screens, but stopped.

“That does sound weird. What do you mean?” His face was inscrutable.

“Well,” Suatre said as he drew the first line down the top of Sorrel’s foot. Sorrel didn’t react. “So like, I’m new here, um, to this whole area, like you know. I don’t know what like...anything is. Like. I don’t know why everything at the grocery store is free.”

Sorrel kind of squinted. “What?”

“Why doesn’t food cost money?”

A few silent moments went by as Suatre tattooed, wiping ink and blood and waiting.

“You don’t know...why food is free?” Mildly incredulous, if one could be.

“I really don’t.” He wiped at the tattoo again and looked up. “Pretend I’ve been under a rock for like. The last thousand years. I don’t know anything about like, society, I guess. I was hoping you’d help me out.”

“I see…” Sorrel pondered how to answer. “Okay. You know about the invasion?”

“No…”

“Wow. Really.” Sorrel sounded skeptical. “Well, I’ll play along. So, Earth was invaded 30 years ago, by the Karadas Empire.” Suatre had stopped tattooing and looked up at his face. He was paying close attention.

“Earth was...invaded.”

“Yes, haven’t you noticed?”

“Not really.”

“So, the Karadas invaded Earth, and told the Humans that they’d give them 30 years of free food and shelter and resources, so that no one would ever need to fight again.” Sorrel ended the sentence in a very slightly mocking singsong. “And at the end of the 30 years, everyone on Earth can vote and decide to stay in the Empire or be free citizens of the galaxy.”

“That’s fucking crazy,” Suatre said, bending back over Sorrel’s foot to continue the tattoo. “Aliens invaded Earth to just give us stuff?”

“They have the technology and endless resources of power,” Sorrel said, his voice bitter. “They're offering their “services” for a certain amount of time, and then they're making everyone vote to see if they want to keep it.”

“So the protests I keep seeing...it’s about the vote?”

“Yes. It’s coming up. Right after new years.”

“Is that still January 1st?”

“For you, I think so.”

Suatre sighed in relief. One thing hadn’t changed.

“Why...would anyone vote no on free food and shelter?” Suatre asked.

“A lot of reasons,” Sorrel said. “It changes people’s entire societies. You’re suddenly just given whatever you need, without having to work for it. People decline into lazy helpless slugs. I’ve seen it happen. It makes people weak.” Sorrel said. “But the biggest reason is that the Karadas are untrustworthy and manipulative. If Earth votes yes, they will take away people’s ability to arm themselves. They destroy weapons and the manufacturing plants. No one can stop them, nothing you humans have been able to destroy any of their invasion ships.” The bitterness in his voice grew. “They say they want peace in the galaxy but they-” He stopped. “You know about Deyluji?”

“You’re Deyluji,” Suatre said. “That’s kind of all I know. Your ears.”

“Yes. So...the Karadas destroyed my ancestral planet. Four hundred years ago. They completely demolished it, and we had no vote.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s complicated.”

That usually meant I Dont Want To Talk About It. But…

“That’s not really like...very peaceful…” Suatre said lightly.

“No. It’s not.” Sorrel sounded mad, but unclenched his fists from where they’d been balled up on his legs.

“Why would they do that?”

“It’s hard to explain. But...they, the Karadas, they naturally produce this like super substance, from their tears, when they’re kids. It’s called Karadium. They can use it for anything. And back then, my people had nothing. Our planet was nearly barren. And so, we used the tears. From children.”

“I don’t understand.

“We used the Karadium produced by Karadas. And yes, we took the tears from children. They say it was coercive but it wasn’t. It was just...beneficial to us and so we used it. My people, we had all this culture, all these ways we defined ourselves, through art and stories and our religion, our gods. And that’s important to me, that’s where I came from. I can’t erase the influence Karadium had on that history. What’s wrong with being proud of my ancestors?”

Suatre spoke slowly. “Well...I hear you. But like..When our rich cultural heritage and like, prosperity was made possible by the suffering of others-”

“You don’t understand.”

“But I do, though! In my history, my people’s past, white people like ME, we oppressed and exploited and hated like, everyone who wasn’t the same. Like, everything in America was built on fucking racist slavery.”

Sorrel looked at him blankly.

“America? Slavery? Do you not know about this?”

“I haven’t studied human history,” he sniffed. “Sounds shitty. My people were proud warriors, and we fought for everything we had. But our planet was sick, and we had almost nothing. And the Karadas had everything. Can anyone blame us for fighting them, because we had no food?”

“No…” Suatre thought for a moment. “Is that why they give us free food?”

“I don’t know,” he muttered. “I think it’s just to fatten us up.”

“And why...did they destroy your planet?”

Sorrel looked away. 

Suatre changed out machines and changed the subject. “Different question. What’s service mean?”

“Neighborhood service, you mean?”

“Yeah. I uh, I said I’d go tomorrow morning and get an assignment, because I got this cupcake that’s, uh, only for volunteers?”

Sorrel smirked. “You got yourself caught up in that shit, huh?”

“Why, what is it?”

“You go out with your neighbors, and you like clean up the streets, and unload delivery trucks for stores, and like. I don’t know. Annoying nice things. Planting flowers.”

“Do I really have to?”

“Not at all. It’s voluntary. But actually...nowadays...It’s probably talking to people about the Vote.”

“I don’t know if I’m the one who should be trying to convince anyone of anything.” Suatre said.

Sorrel shrugged. “I mean. If you don’t know anything about this, then probably not. I admire your ignorance,” he said, not unkindly. “You’ve managed to completely ignore the Karadas. I’m jealous. Sorry you had to know.”

They didn’t seem all that bad honestly. But Suatre didn’t know the whole story. All he knew was that he liked not having to work for money and rent and food.

He wondered which side of the Vote this community volunteer group was.