"We have to bundle up today, sweetheart." Karen Zarek helped her four year old son into his new coat. Her own coat was faded and worn; she was constantly cutting off the fraying strings or hiding the pilly collar with the thick wool scarves Mrs. Rose knitted for her.
The kindly neighbor often watched Tom for Karen when her headaches were really bad. Today the pain was manageable and she wanted to get to the grocery store while it was still early. Tomorrow marked the last day to use the allotted ration cards, and the stores would be bursting at the seams. It would be even worse on the following day, when the next weekly cycle began. Her best bet would be to get there today, before the mad onslaught really hit.
The government had instituted the ration ID cards a couple of months ago in hopes of controlling the food shortages that continued to worsen as the Cylon war raged on. Shopping only once a week was supposed to "prevent families from overbuying." Overbuying would be impossible for the Zareks, and for many other Saggitaron families, whose meager salaries limited what they could afford -not to mention the fact that you couldn't overbuy what simply wasn't available.
She would not take Tom with her to the grocery store - where nerves ran raw and tempers flared. They walked hand in hand across the street to the row of apartment houses that were a carbon copy of their own.
Tom stopped suddenly and squeezed his mother's hand as they approached the Roses' building. He pointed excitedly up at the sky. "Rainbow!" he said happily. His dimples showed when he smiled.
Karen looked up and saw where her son was pointing. There was a rainbow peeking its way through the gray clouds in a pristinely iridescent arch of vibrant color, just above the Nitrassium plant where she and her husband worked. The smoke from the refinery process sometimes created thick clouds that billowed above the stark row of chimneys. The colors emanated from the same chemicals that caused Karen's headaches and violent nausea.
The image of a Labor Ministry pamphlet flashed across her mind, slick and shiny with fresh ink:
Nitrassium is non-toxic. Long-term exposure is safe, with no lasting effects. Nitrassium sickness is rare and temporary, and this minor inconvenience is easily treatable with aeltolol.
Karen's joy was far more muted than her son's, her smile subdued. "Yes, Tom," she said softly, nodding, "It is a rainbow."