[story] symbiosis
author: sansele (sansele)
email: sandra.tan [at] gmail.com
artist: amei (amei)
In the year 6000, the Earth was finally crushed completely by man.
In the year 6000, man finally crushed himself completely.
Five thousand people survived the last nuclear explosion, and out of those people, only four hundred lived to die of old age.
Nothing much survived, but the industry of one company held firm, the integrity of its scientific work mostly undamaged. Simatrex introduced the Genome Project in 6005, to boost the waning population.
It was a success.
Or so it is written in the history of Siltra.
Epinephrine
I'm looking for my Ma. This is the best place to look. Most stable building for miles around, fairly tall too. Sitting here with my binoculars, watching the mechanical cranes go by in the distance.
I think she's dead. I mean, Pa is obviously dead. His skin was all funny and purply when I left. They probably disposed of him pretty fast, people don't really survive that long with radiation sickness. Luckily, my genes are pretty strong, so I'm not sick or anything like that. People who get sick are told to go away to the north. That's where the incinerator is, so that the cranes don't have to transport them too far when they die.
There's a woman in that crane bucket... nah, it's not her. Hair not blonde enough. Her hair might have grown out though, it was just dyed. No matter. I'll keep looking. No one leaves the north alive, that's a fact. So I'll definitely see her one day.
The wind blows, and I move away from the edge. Some people commit suicide by jumping from here. I wouldn't. It's not high enough. The bags beside me rustle. Oh yeah, I need to get back! I came out to get the rations, thought I might spend a minute or two looking out up here. Cloudy day, otherwise I would be wearing a veil. UV radiation is bad for the skin. Causes mutations. I gather up the bags, and start down the fire escape.
The bags are always too heavy. That's good. We get lots of rations! Master prepared loads for the disaster, he says, and that's why he's got so much money. He also got a job at Simatrex. It's the only place that's actually hiring nowadays. There's not a lot of jobs, but there's a lot of work to do. That's what he says. This city used to hold a million people and counting, but now the word on the street is there's only five thousand now. Still, if you've got money, you're set. It's really valuable stuff. I think my grandparents didn't really know what was going on, because they didn't prepare at all. We had nothing. Ma said the economy was really crap before the disaster, and they lost their jobs.
At least the government blew itself up. We don't have to worry about them trying to set off any more WMDs. That's what Pa used to say all the time, before he started puking and getting really tired. Still, we really need people. We don't have enough people, Master keeps saying. Simatrex is our only hope. I'm really important too, because of my genes. My genetic profile is flawless, it's amazing! There's not a lot of people like me.
There's too few people around for such a big place. It's really obvious because a lot of the buildings here in the south are still standing. The bomb struck in the west-north-ish bit. No one lives there, because it's too dangerous. There's a lot of radiation left over. The buildings in the north got really badly damaged when it exploded, but that's where the diseased live. They're not going to be there long anyway.
"Hey, Scarface!"
Oh hell, it's him. He always bothers me when I come this way. Um. Master told me how to deal with him. I pretend to shoot him, two fingers out of a fist, thumb up. "Pew-pew-pew!"
"Ack, you got me!" He mock-stumbles away, grinning, and I continue on my way. I don't know why Master told me to do that, some cultural thingy from before. The other people love that kind of thing. Reminder of a past we can't go back to. He tells me to be kind to that man who keeps bothering me. I don't see why. He keeps reminding me of my scar. It goes down the right side of my face. Really thick and pulls at the corner of my eye. It's so ugly! I'm so ugly! But now everyone tells me it doesn't matter, I'm beautiful on the inside. Really. There are loads of girls who are tons prettier than me and living in the north. They won't be pretty for very long, not when they get purple spots all over them.
Someone threw a metal bar at me when I was still living with my family. One of my friends, I think. We were always doing stupid things like that. He didn't know one of the edges was jagged and sharp. It was a few months after that people started talking about going to Simatrex for DNA profiling. If your genes came out clean, you could go live in a much better place, with better rations. We all went, except for those who were too sick. They stopped all the diseased people from coming in anyway. Ma stayed with Pa. She said that she would never leave him.
They only needed a drop of my blood. It took about an hour to get the results. When the lady at the desk handed me my results, she told me to go see Master in his office. I can't read, so I didn't understand what was on the paper. But when I pushed open the door and gave it to Master, he smiled. Told me that my health was very good and that I was important to the surviving population. I was fourteen. Spotty. I thought he was crazy, but he offered me a new home in the south. He said that I would have to leave any relatives here, though. Gave me a form, but I told him I couldn't read and I didn't believe him either. But he told me to take it home anyway, and my Ma read it. Really slowly, because she's not all that good with words.
She wrote something on the paper and told me to leave.
I really wish my Ma was here sometimes. All these kids and pregnancies and things... Four kids is a respectable number, and pretty good, considering I'm nineteen. Everyone seems to think so. They say five before twenty would be even better. Master keeps wanting me to get pregnant again soon. He's been hinting a lot these past few days.
I didn't know what Master wanted from me in the beginning. Good food, a proper bed... Claire explained to me that the five girls in this house had perfect genetic profiles. Untouched by radiation sickness and harmful mutations. There are about eighty people who are as young and healthy as us, and we're the future of the city. That's the long story. The short story is that we have sex with a bunch of guys with good genes. On a regular basis, until we get pregnant. The kids go off to the childcare facilities the moment they're born, where they'll get proper care. Better than anything we can give them.
I wish my Ma was here. I wish I could take care of my kids. Maybe just one. But I don't know how.
I put my hand on the sensor on the wall, and the metal gate slides across to let me in, closing the second I get in. Another two gates like that. Crazy security. I unlock the next door with my key, and walk through the courtyard. There used to be some trees and flowers here, a little garden. Retta tried watering them, but they died anyway. Maybe they got radiation sickness too.
I find my passcard and stick it into the slot beside the lift door. People used to build skyscrapers to reach the clouds, but we live underground now. In the cellars, in the basements. That's where safety is. Stick your head down in the ground, and you don't have to see a thing. Like ostriches, or is it emus? One of them, what does it matter? They're all dead anyway.
If the lift or any of the other things break down, we're going to be in so much trouble. I don't like how the lift closes so... completely. Such a small space. I never saw a lift before I came here.
There are a few flats down here, and ours is at the end of the corridor. But I can hear the screaming already. When Master's away, we don't get along. I open the door, and it's completely crazy in the room. Retta and Claire are on the floor clawing at each other. One of them is shrieking, and Marcy's cringing at the side, squealing. She always does. The fighting people pause when they hear the front door opening. Claire pulls away quickly.
"Hey Neffy. You came home at a good time." Soz is leaning against the wall. No one calls me by my real name. They say it's too long. Ma never said that.
"I brought the rations back. What happened?"
"Retta forged her genetic profile. She's a fraud."
"I'm not! They're lying!"
"She's got the genes for radiation sickness! Get rid of her!"
There's an embarrassed pause after Marcy's outburst.
"Retta has Huntington's." Claire rolls up her sleeves. "Soz, help me please."
"What the hell are you doing?! I'm not leaving!"
Claire and Soz grab her arms in answer and begin dragging her to the still-open door. She kicks up her heels. The carpet gets scruffed up, but there's nothing Retta can do. She's not the first girl to leave like this. There are lots of people who forge the genetic profile they were given. I don't know why they do it. It's dishonest.
Claire turns her head.
"Call Master. I'll call childcare when I get back." I reach for the phone. Marcy is stupid and will screw up the message. She always does.
"Hello Master? ... Yes, this is Epinephrine. Claire told me to call you... Retta has Huntington's... Claire and Soz disposed of her... okay. Bye."
Marcy hangs around while Claire calls the childcare people.
"Are they going to dispose of her children?"
"Yeah. They'll have to."
"I hate babies. They're so gross! I don't know why anyone would want them."
Claire often says, "There are people with no education, and there are people with no brains. All societies need them." She usually says it after Marcy talks for a long time. I thought brains were an important part of the DNA, but I guess not. Marcy's always fine, and she's had six children already.
Soz and Claire come back a lot faster than I expected. I think they must have left Retta up in the city. She can't come back down if she doesn't have her card and key. Claire begins sorting through the rations and putting things away. I stand at the table.
"Do you think Master will bring another girl here?"
"Yeah. Not yet, though."
"Retta's rations will go bad before then."
"I'm taking some of hers. Help yourself." Claire shoves one of the packets at me. "Remember to get ready. Master's coming back in an hour's time."
"Help me with my bow?"
Claire helps me tie the ribbon on my dress, and fiddles around with the CD player in my room before she goes. She always does that when Master brings home another guy for me. Keeps me happy, keeps me calm, she says.
"This song is really old, but you should like it." She ups the volume, and closes the door behind her.
Ah...
My Ma loves this song. She waltzed to it with Pa while it was playing during their wedding dinner. I twirl a bit in the middle of my room.
And I think to myself, what a wonderful world...
Soz
They call me Soz. It's short for Sausage, because as the infamous story goes, I was eating a sausage when they opened the door for me to descend into the luxuries of Shangri-la. Jokes about dicks and sausages? Never grow old. And Neffy thinks SHE has it bad. At least all the jokes about adrenaline and not getting tired fly straight over her head. A very nice girl, but totally brainwashed. She keeps going on about how she wants to see her kids. And how what we're doing is good, very beneficial to the whole world, oh yes. A lot of what her mum says, what her pa said, a lot of what Master said.
She calls him Master, anyway. His name is Robert, he's a nice sort of guy. I guess he wanted to make things more comfortable for us, opening his house to girls from the program, though I'm sure he earns a decent bit from Simatrex for our lodging. Surprisingly, he's not that interested in sex. Never laid a hand on any of us. I think he's asexual.
I came here about two years ago. I'm twenty-nine now, so I'm positively ancient. But still fertile, so I'm not worried. I didn't want to have any tests, but it's becoming near impossible to live in Siltra without a genetic profile. It's the best form of identification, and besides, Simatrex controls almost everything now. Apartments, rations, education... We could leave; but how would we find food? It's a nuclear wasteland outside... If I were alone, by all means, I could leave anytime. But a fourteen-year old girl needs more support, and I can't promise her that outside.
Oh, what? Now I have to turn over.
The reason my sister isn't here is because I fudged her test. Yeah, I admit it. I don't want her selling herself for the money, the comfort. It's really not that difficult to get a good genetic profile... it's just that there are so few people. Sure, my sister has to live on a diet free of phenylalanine, and they don't let her eat certain stuff, but it's so much better than starving.
In the beginning, you could just smash your way into shophouses, supermarkets... We did a lot of that, it didn't seem necessary to pay or work for what was there, you see. Now there's guards, security, padlocks... and lots of guns. Humanity's still as violent as ever, and wouldn't you know it! Bowing my head and accepting the situation isn't my style, but who knows what's happening outside the city walls? Long before the bombs landed, Siltra was burning all her bridges. Too strong. Too stupid.
Wait for it... wait for it! Now moan. OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
Where was I? Ah yes.
Besides, even if the guards don't see you, there's always the danger that the building will collapse on you one day while you're reaching for a tin of spam. Not all the buildings have been secured, not all the bodies have been burned, not all the radiation has dissipated. It's been five years since the Disaster, but things aren't much improved. I think the city needs more people, rather than more babies now. Not all that keen on Simatrex. A big corporation like that tends to be doing a lot of dreadful things, and everyone just accepts whatever the corporation says, like a bunch of sheep.
Not that I'm one to talk, eh? Being in the program and all... But needs must be, I guess.
I understand about the rejuvenation of the population and the need for good genes in the genetic pool, I really do, but the fact is that it sucks having sex with guys. I'm a lesbian. I'm more into the girls living in the same flat with me than I am with any of the men they foist on me. I really wish we could be artificially inseminated, but apparently the Knowledge has been lost. Not enough educated people to work it for everyone in the program, equipment destroyed and all that. Back to the primitive ages! Damn Simatrex! Damn bleeding Perfect Genes!
I've never thought of complaining though; fact is, my sister is having an amazing education, a good home, why? Because I'm having sex with guys. And having children. Especially the children.
Probably not a good idea to even mention the fact that I'm not straight. It's not something they can look for in a genetics test.
Hold on a moment, I just have to push a pillow behind me... Okay, that's much better.
Popping out babies was never on my list of things to do, but surviving a nuclear holocaust wasn't either. Whoop-de-doo. And what's Simatrex doing with the kids? Who knows. Except the ones who are seriously dumb or too young (most of them are), I bet the other girls are wondering that too.
But I don't care to think about it too much. Never thought of going down to have a look-see at my children. I don't want to know. Neffers and her bleeding kids. I bet she'd be traumatized if she actually met her children. She's too young for this business. People who say a girl is ready for pregnancy when she starts menstruating are complete idiots.
I asked Claire what she thinks about it all, but she always changes the subject. I bet she knows more than she's letting on; she's the only other girl here with more than half a brain. The others chatter and speculate, but bah. They're full of crap.
I miss Retta. It was too bad that she turned out to have been lying all the time. At least I'm not the one lying, you know? My record's the clean one. No one should suspect my sister of anything.
Retta would have done the same thing to me, if she found out. We're like that here. All very nice and polite-ish to each other as basic daily routine dictates, but you know we'd stick our claws into each other at any opportunity. Not because we want to, you understand, but because we have to. If you don't follow the rules and you get found out, you have to face the consequences.
If you get found out.
I move my hands a bit in a vaguely excited manner. It's always good to look like you're responding, even if you're not really in the mood. I'm never in the mood I guess! But it encourages the guy, and hopefully things go faster. There was one fella who was convinced it was kinky time, and I had to tell him to hurry up. Seriously now. I bet he was a newbie.
Like the guy on top of me now, in fact.
"Taking a bit long, aren't ya?" His head jerks up. I suspect he would have turned red, if all his... exertions hadn't made him red already. I look down between my legs. "Now you've gone all soft."
He still isn't saying anything. Hm...
"Are you straight?"
Now his eyes are bulging. "I, er... yes!" Liar.
"I'm lesbian. Relax."
"Oh!" Suddenly, he looks a whole lot happier, and no wonder. I smile up at him. My gaydar is totally on, you know.
"First time?"
"Second. But the first time was really bad." Yeah, it would be.
"I can teach you a thing or two."
"Oh. That would be good. If you could!" If you keep shooting blanks or producing bad eggs, they kick you out of the program. Obviously.
"Don't you wish that they had IVF?"
"Yeah!"
I think this could be the start of a beautiful friendship.
Claire
I was in the country when the bombs started going off. It was a school trip. We didn't know what was happening, not until we started seeing the mushroom clouds erupting in the distance. They were in the direction of home.
I sometimes think that it would be best if the human race just died out. We screw everything up. There is so much beauty in the world, and we take it for granted. It's too easy for us to rip it away; and we only miss the loveliness when it's gone. Kindness? Loyalty? What are those? All the truth to live by is two words: equivalent trade. You'll take some, you'll give some.
"You've been transferred from the Genome Program to Excavation. Here's your information." Claire's computer beeped as it finished downloading. "You'll be sent to Vangon A with Kieran Langley."
You're not in charge anymore. You traded your reputation and integrity for something that was temporarily amusing, and now it means nothing. We can't use someone like you anymore.
Claire walked out of the office without saying a word.
Claire turned up at the hovercraft stop fifteen minutes early. There was only a man sitting there, and he stood up at once when he saw her, looking shifty. It must be Kieran. She sized him up quickly: a wastrel.
"When's the hovercraft coming?"
"Uh. In half an hour. I'm going to get something to eat. Will be back." He slunk off, and Claire sat down on the bench. It was too hot to be rude. She tried counting down the minutes, but eventually her mind began wandering... Memories were monsters.
"Hurry." Soz lifted her bag and followed Claire out. They entered the lift, and Claire briefed her on the way up.
"Your sister is waiting at the intersection, at the corner of the road."
"Thank you for getting her out."
Claire nodded. A few days ago, Soz had burst into the house. Simatrex had suddenly started sending people with genetic mutations to Vangon A, even when their illnesses were not caused by radiation. One batch had gone... and there was no word of them ever returning. Food was running too short to sustain people who wouldn't be able to boost the population. Claire had no intention of getting herself involved, but Soz had pleaded with her, and... she had helped.
"Where will you go?"
"Out of the program, out of the city."
"You'll die in the desert, and your sister will too."
"Better a 5% chance of survival than a 100% confirmed death."
Claire fidgeted. The lift would reach the ground floor soon. She dropped her bombshell.
"I know your sister doesn't have PKU."
The pause was tangible.
"Ah. How long have you known?"
"Since one year ago."
"... Didn't you feel like telling Simatrex about it?"
"...No." Soz would have been in trouble. Serious trouble. It would have been worse for her than it had been for Retta. Claire would have tried covering for her too, but Simatrex had found out about her before Claire could do anything.
Claire unlocked the last gate, and Soz squeezed her hand in parting.
"I think you're a good friend. Thanks for everything." With that, Soz was gone.
And what the hell was the good of friendship? Would it keep her company when the friends were gone? Would it comfort her when she was scared? Would it bring back the dead?
Robert Kingston looked up and smiled as she entered.
"Is everyone else gone?"
"Yes. Epinephrine and Marcy have gone to get rations." He looked sad.
"Ah, they'll be transferred. Try to make sure they go to good homes?"
She nodded, and he handed her the gun.
"I'm sorry to ask you to do this, I'm not very good with guns."
Claire loaded it, and hesitated.
"Sir, won't you reconsider?"
"I can't. It's a miracle it took Simatrex this long to realise that I wasn't following orders, and it won't take them much longer to kill me. Perhaps they'll reward you for this."
"You could leave. There's time."
"My life is here in Siltra. I have nowhere to go other than this city. I'm too old." He nodded at the gun, and she picked it up. "I can no longer control my life, so now it's time to die."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be."
Claire flicked off the safety catch, aimed and pulled the trigger.
She stared at her fists in her lap. Unclenched them, stared at her palms, closed them again. Blood on her hands, and no one could see the stains. Retta. Kingston. These people she had killed for Simatrex, but it didn't matter. It was part of her job. Just carrying out orders. Watching over the Genome project, making sure that everyone was doing as they should. She had given birth to five children while she had been living with Kingston. Camouflage. That was all. She had asked about visiting them, but she was told that it was not advisable.
All her work, and not a single reward. And now... to be sent away like this.
Vangon A was where a new settlement was being set up entirely underground in the East. That was the official word. It was the future of Siltra, safety away from any stray bombs.
People wondered: Wasn't it strange that everyone who went there for the trials were the ones who weren't helping in the program? The religious, the homosexuals, the infertile... Everyone who didn't have radiation sickness, who didn't have mutations, but who had declined to join the program or have anything to do with it.
People stupid enough to think a program that claimed to be voluntary really was. Batch by batch, leaving by hovercraft... Some came back a few months later, avoided their old friends and family, and quietly joined the program. They didn't talk about Vangon A at all.
Claire was quite certain that she would not die, but she didn't particularly want to live anymore. Why should she? Her household had split up, the people she knew gone their separate ways. She wasn't important to Simatrex, not now. Bitterness welled up, and she bit back angry tears.
Then she heard the joyful laughter in the distance, and looked up unwillingly from her misery.
A group of red-hatted, red-overalled children. They walked past, two lines hand in hand, and she watched them go by, enthralled. Strange. The children usually took their walks in the morning, when the people in the program were forbidden from leaving their houses. To prevent incidents, Simatrex informed her.
Children were such a rare sight. She stared, barely registering that they had stopped, and that their minder was standing in front of her. A child stood next to the minder.
"This is your eldest child." Claire blinked.
"I beg your pardon, I wasn't listening-"
"This is your eldest child," the old woman in the red smock repeated. Her words registered, and Claire gaped. She looked at the girl, and the girl waved.
"Hallo!" Brown hair in plaits. A pale face. Bright blue eyes.
"She'll be six today."
"Oh... Yes..." The old woman turned to pull apart two boys who were fighting, and Claire pulled out a handkerchief to dry her suddenly-tearful eyes. She hid it just as the old woman looked back.
"I... why?"
"Because you helped me get out of the North."
Too old to give birth, too healthy to die. Yes, she had pulled strings for her. Now she remembered.
"I'm sure anyone would have done the same for you."
"They didn't." They hadn't. Too much trouble.
She wanted to say something more, but her words were drowned out by the loud whirring of the hovercraft. It was too soon. But there was nothing she could do. Always so helpless. She hated herself for a split second, then she looked down into the curious eyes of the... her daughter. Her tears welled up again. The old woman once again occupied herself with the children.
The hovercraft halted at the stop. Claire stood up and nodded to the old woman.
"Thank you."
She crouched down and waved to the little girl.
"Goodbye. It's nice to meet you." We'll meet again, she vowed. Somehow.
"Bye Mum!" A voice piped up. Claire jumped like she had been shot, and walked up the steps hurriedly. The little girl stared, then looked up at the old woman.
"Did you tell me to say something bad to her?"
"No."
"What's 'Mum' mean?"
"Nothing."
"Why was she crying?"
"That"s what people do when they leave."
"I want to go with her." The child pointed at the hovercraft.
"Don't be silly. You belong to Simatrex. We'll take care of you."
The old woman held the girl's hand, and they both watched as the hovercraft left. It paused as a man ran up and jumped on, narrowly missing getting left behind; then with a loud roar of its motor, it glided away into the distance.
the end
email: sandra.tan [at] gmail.com
artist: amei (amei)
In the year 6000, the Earth was finally crushed completely by man.
In the year 6000, man finally crushed himself completely.
Five thousand people survived the last nuclear explosion, and out of those people, only four hundred lived to die of old age.
Nothing much survived, but the industry of one company held firm, the integrity of its scientific work mostly undamaged. Simatrex introduced the Genome Project in 6005, to boost the waning population.
It was a success.
Or so it is written in the history of Siltra.
Epinephrine
I'm looking for my Ma. This is the best place to look. Most stable building for miles around, fairly tall too. Sitting here with my binoculars, watching the mechanical cranes go by in the distance.
I think she's dead. I mean, Pa is obviously dead. His skin was all funny and purply when I left. They probably disposed of him pretty fast, people don't really survive that long with radiation sickness. Luckily, my genes are pretty strong, so I'm not sick or anything like that. People who get sick are told to go away to the north. That's where the incinerator is, so that the cranes don't have to transport them too far when they die.
There's a woman in that crane bucket... nah, it's not her. Hair not blonde enough. Her hair might have grown out though, it was just dyed. No matter. I'll keep looking. No one leaves the north alive, that's a fact. So I'll definitely see her one day.
The wind blows, and I move away from the edge. Some people commit suicide by jumping from here. I wouldn't. It's not high enough. The bags beside me rustle. Oh yeah, I need to get back! I came out to get the rations, thought I might spend a minute or two looking out up here. Cloudy day, otherwise I would be wearing a veil. UV radiation is bad for the skin. Causes mutations. I gather up the bags, and start down the fire escape.
The bags are always too heavy. That's good. We get lots of rations! Master prepared loads for the disaster, he says, and that's why he's got so much money. He also got a job at Simatrex. It's the only place that's actually hiring nowadays. There's not a lot of jobs, but there's a lot of work to do. That's what he says. This city used to hold a million people and counting, but now the word on the street is there's only five thousand now. Still, if you've got money, you're set. It's really valuable stuff. I think my grandparents didn't really know what was going on, because they didn't prepare at all. We had nothing. Ma said the economy was really crap before the disaster, and they lost their jobs.
At least the government blew itself up. We don't have to worry about them trying to set off any more WMDs. That's what Pa used to say all the time, before he started puking and getting really tired. Still, we really need people. We don't have enough people, Master keeps saying. Simatrex is our only hope. I'm really important too, because of my genes. My genetic profile is flawless, it's amazing! There's not a lot of people like me.
There's too few people around for such a big place. It's really obvious because a lot of the buildings here in the south are still standing. The bomb struck in the west-north-ish bit. No one lives there, because it's too dangerous. There's a lot of radiation left over. The buildings in the north got really badly damaged when it exploded, but that's where the diseased live. They're not going to be there long anyway.
"Hey, Scarface!"
Oh hell, it's him. He always bothers me when I come this way. Um. Master told me how to deal with him. I pretend to shoot him, two fingers out of a fist, thumb up. "Pew-pew-pew!"
"Ack, you got me!" He mock-stumbles away, grinning, and I continue on my way. I don't know why Master told me to do that, some cultural thingy from before. The other people love that kind of thing. Reminder of a past we can't go back to. He tells me to be kind to that man who keeps bothering me. I don't see why. He keeps reminding me of my scar. It goes down the right side of my face. Really thick and pulls at the corner of my eye. It's so ugly! I'm so ugly! But now everyone tells me it doesn't matter, I'm beautiful on the inside. Really. There are loads of girls who are tons prettier than me and living in the north. They won't be pretty for very long, not when they get purple spots all over them.
Someone threw a metal bar at me when I was still living with my family. One of my friends, I think. We were always doing stupid things like that. He didn't know one of the edges was jagged and sharp. It was a few months after that people started talking about going to Simatrex for DNA profiling. If your genes came out clean, you could go live in a much better place, with better rations. We all went, except for those who were too sick. They stopped all the diseased people from coming in anyway. Ma stayed with Pa. She said that she would never leave him.
They only needed a drop of my blood. It took about an hour to get the results. When the lady at the desk handed me my results, she told me to go see Master in his office. I can't read, so I didn't understand what was on the paper. But when I pushed open the door and gave it to Master, he smiled. Told me that my health was very good and that I was important to the surviving population. I was fourteen. Spotty. I thought he was crazy, but he offered me a new home in the south. He said that I would have to leave any relatives here, though. Gave me a form, but I told him I couldn't read and I didn't believe him either. But he told me to take it home anyway, and my Ma read it. Really slowly, because she's not all that good with words.
She wrote something on the paper and told me to leave.
I really wish my Ma was here sometimes. All these kids and pregnancies and things... Four kids is a respectable number, and pretty good, considering I'm nineteen. Everyone seems to think so. They say five before twenty would be even better. Master keeps wanting me to get pregnant again soon. He's been hinting a lot these past few days.
I didn't know what Master wanted from me in the beginning. Good food, a proper bed... Claire explained to me that the five girls in this house had perfect genetic profiles. Untouched by radiation sickness and harmful mutations. There are about eighty people who are as young and healthy as us, and we're the future of the city. That's the long story. The short story is that we have sex with a bunch of guys with good genes. On a regular basis, until we get pregnant. The kids go off to the childcare facilities the moment they're born, where they'll get proper care. Better than anything we can give them.
I wish my Ma was here. I wish I could take care of my kids. Maybe just one. But I don't know how.
I put my hand on the sensor on the wall, and the metal gate slides across to let me in, closing the second I get in. Another two gates like that. Crazy security. I unlock the next door with my key, and walk through the courtyard. There used to be some trees and flowers here, a little garden. Retta tried watering them, but they died anyway. Maybe they got radiation sickness too.
I find my passcard and stick it into the slot beside the lift door. People used to build skyscrapers to reach the clouds, but we live underground now. In the cellars, in the basements. That's where safety is. Stick your head down in the ground, and you don't have to see a thing. Like ostriches, or is it emus? One of them, what does it matter? They're all dead anyway.
If the lift or any of the other things break down, we're going to be in so much trouble. I don't like how the lift closes so... completely. Such a small space. I never saw a lift before I came here.
There are a few flats down here, and ours is at the end of the corridor. But I can hear the screaming already. When Master's away, we don't get along. I open the door, and it's completely crazy in the room. Retta and Claire are on the floor clawing at each other. One of them is shrieking, and Marcy's cringing at the side, squealing. She always does. The fighting people pause when they hear the front door opening. Claire pulls away quickly.
"Hey Neffy. You came home at a good time." Soz is leaning against the wall. No one calls me by my real name. They say it's too long. Ma never said that.
"I brought the rations back. What happened?"
"Retta forged her genetic profile. She's a fraud."
"I'm not! They're lying!"
"She's got the genes for radiation sickness! Get rid of her!"
There's an embarrassed pause after Marcy's outburst.
"Retta has Huntington's." Claire rolls up her sleeves. "Soz, help me please."
"What the hell are you doing?! I'm not leaving!"
Claire and Soz grab her arms in answer and begin dragging her to the still-open door. She kicks up her heels. The carpet gets scruffed up, but there's nothing Retta can do. She's not the first girl to leave like this. There are lots of people who forge the genetic profile they were given. I don't know why they do it. It's dishonest.
Claire turns her head.
"Call Master. I'll call childcare when I get back." I reach for the phone. Marcy is stupid and will screw up the message. She always does.
"Hello Master? ... Yes, this is Epinephrine. Claire told me to call you... Retta has Huntington's... Claire and Soz disposed of her... okay. Bye."
Marcy hangs around while Claire calls the childcare people.
"Are they going to dispose of her children?"
"Yeah. They'll have to."
"I hate babies. They're so gross! I don't know why anyone would want them."
Claire often says, "There are people with no education, and there are people with no brains. All societies need them." She usually says it after Marcy talks for a long time. I thought brains were an important part of the DNA, but I guess not. Marcy's always fine, and she's had six children already.
Soz and Claire come back a lot faster than I expected. I think they must have left Retta up in the city. She can't come back down if she doesn't have her card and key. Claire begins sorting through the rations and putting things away. I stand at the table.
"Do you think Master will bring another girl here?"
"Yeah. Not yet, though."
"Retta's rations will go bad before then."
"I'm taking some of hers. Help yourself." Claire shoves one of the packets at me. "Remember to get ready. Master's coming back in an hour's time."
"Help me with my bow?"
Claire helps me tie the ribbon on my dress, and fiddles around with the CD player in my room before she goes. She always does that when Master brings home another guy for me. Keeps me happy, keeps me calm, she says.
"This song is really old, but you should like it." She ups the volume, and closes the door behind her.
Ah...
My Ma loves this song. She waltzed to it with Pa while it was playing during their wedding dinner. I twirl a bit in the middle of my room.
And I think to myself, what a wonderful world...
Soz
They call me Soz. It's short for Sausage, because as the infamous story goes, I was eating a sausage when they opened the door for me to descend into the luxuries of Shangri-la. Jokes about dicks and sausages? Never grow old. And Neffy thinks SHE has it bad. At least all the jokes about adrenaline and not getting tired fly straight over her head. A very nice girl, but totally brainwashed. She keeps going on about how she wants to see her kids. And how what we're doing is good, very beneficial to the whole world, oh yes. A lot of what her mum says, what her pa said, a lot of what Master said.
She calls him Master, anyway. His name is Robert, he's a nice sort of guy. I guess he wanted to make things more comfortable for us, opening his house to girls from the program, though I'm sure he earns a decent bit from Simatrex for our lodging. Surprisingly, he's not that interested in sex. Never laid a hand on any of us. I think he's asexual.
I came here about two years ago. I'm twenty-nine now, so I'm positively ancient. But still fertile, so I'm not worried. I didn't want to have any tests, but it's becoming near impossible to live in Siltra without a genetic profile. It's the best form of identification, and besides, Simatrex controls almost everything now. Apartments, rations, education... We could leave; but how would we find food? It's a nuclear wasteland outside... If I were alone, by all means, I could leave anytime. But a fourteen-year old girl needs more support, and I can't promise her that outside.
Oh, what? Now I have to turn over.
The reason my sister isn't here is because I fudged her test. Yeah, I admit it. I don't want her selling herself for the money, the comfort. It's really not that difficult to get a good genetic profile... it's just that there are so few people. Sure, my sister has to live on a diet free of phenylalanine, and they don't let her eat certain stuff, but it's so much better than starving.
In the beginning, you could just smash your way into shophouses, supermarkets... We did a lot of that, it didn't seem necessary to pay or work for what was there, you see. Now there's guards, security, padlocks... and lots of guns. Humanity's still as violent as ever, and wouldn't you know it! Bowing my head and accepting the situation isn't my style, but who knows what's happening outside the city walls? Long before the bombs landed, Siltra was burning all her bridges. Too strong. Too stupid.
Wait for it... wait for it! Now moan. OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
Where was I? Ah yes.
Besides, even if the guards don't see you, there's always the danger that the building will collapse on you one day while you're reaching for a tin of spam. Not all the buildings have been secured, not all the bodies have been burned, not all the radiation has dissipated. It's been five years since the Disaster, but things aren't much improved. I think the city needs more people, rather than more babies now. Not all that keen on Simatrex. A big corporation like that tends to be doing a lot of dreadful things, and everyone just accepts whatever the corporation says, like a bunch of sheep.
Not that I'm one to talk, eh? Being in the program and all... But needs must be, I guess.
I understand about the rejuvenation of the population and the need for good genes in the genetic pool, I really do, but the fact is that it sucks having sex with guys. I'm a lesbian. I'm more into the girls living in the same flat with me than I am with any of the men they foist on me. I really wish we could be artificially inseminated, but apparently the Knowledge has been lost. Not enough educated people to work it for everyone in the program, equipment destroyed and all that. Back to the primitive ages! Damn Simatrex! Damn bleeding Perfect Genes!
I've never thought of complaining though; fact is, my sister is having an amazing education, a good home, why? Because I'm having sex with guys. And having children. Especially the children.
Probably not a good idea to even mention the fact that I'm not straight. It's not something they can look for in a genetics test.
Hold on a moment, I just have to push a pillow behind me... Okay, that's much better.
Popping out babies was never on my list of things to do, but surviving a nuclear holocaust wasn't either. Whoop-de-doo. And what's Simatrex doing with the kids? Who knows. Except the ones who are seriously dumb or too young (most of them are), I bet the other girls are wondering that too.
But I don't care to think about it too much. Never thought of going down to have a look-see at my children. I don't want to know. Neffers and her bleeding kids. I bet she'd be traumatized if she actually met her children. She's too young for this business. People who say a girl is ready for pregnancy when she starts menstruating are complete idiots.
I asked Claire what she thinks about it all, but she always changes the subject. I bet she knows more than she's letting on; she's the only other girl here with more than half a brain. The others chatter and speculate, but bah. They're full of crap.
I miss Retta. It was too bad that she turned out to have been lying all the time. At least I'm not the one lying, you know? My record's the clean one. No one should suspect my sister of anything.
Retta would have done the same thing to me, if she found out. We're like that here. All very nice and polite-ish to each other as basic daily routine dictates, but you know we'd stick our claws into each other at any opportunity. Not because we want to, you understand, but because we have to. If you don't follow the rules and you get found out, you have to face the consequences.
If you get found out.
I move my hands a bit in a vaguely excited manner. It's always good to look like you're responding, even if you're not really in the mood. I'm never in the mood I guess! But it encourages the guy, and hopefully things go faster. There was one fella who was convinced it was kinky time, and I had to tell him to hurry up. Seriously now. I bet he was a newbie.
Like the guy on top of me now, in fact.
"Taking a bit long, aren't ya?" His head jerks up. I suspect he would have turned red, if all his... exertions hadn't made him red already. I look down between my legs. "Now you've gone all soft."
He still isn't saying anything. Hm...
"Are you straight?"
Now his eyes are bulging. "I, er... yes!" Liar.
"I'm lesbian. Relax."
"Oh!" Suddenly, he looks a whole lot happier, and no wonder. I smile up at him. My gaydar is totally on, you know.
"First time?"
"Second. But the first time was really bad." Yeah, it would be.
"I can teach you a thing or two."
"Oh. That would be good. If you could!" If you keep shooting blanks or producing bad eggs, they kick you out of the program. Obviously.
"Don't you wish that they had IVF?"
"Yeah!"
I think this could be the start of a beautiful friendship.
Claire
I was in the country when the bombs started going off. It was a school trip. We didn't know what was happening, not until we started seeing the mushroom clouds erupting in the distance. They were in the direction of home.
I sometimes think that it would be best if the human race just died out. We screw everything up. There is so much beauty in the world, and we take it for granted. It's too easy for us to rip it away; and we only miss the loveliness when it's gone. Kindness? Loyalty? What are those? All the truth to live by is two words: equivalent trade. You'll take some, you'll give some.
"You've been transferred from the Genome Program to Excavation. Here's your information." Claire's computer beeped as it finished downloading. "You'll be sent to Vangon A with Kieran Langley."
You're not in charge anymore. You traded your reputation and integrity for something that was temporarily amusing, and now it means nothing. We can't use someone like you anymore.
Claire walked out of the office without saying a word.
Claire turned up at the hovercraft stop fifteen minutes early. There was only a man sitting there, and he stood up at once when he saw her, looking shifty. It must be Kieran. She sized him up quickly: a wastrel.
"When's the hovercraft coming?"
"Uh. In half an hour. I'm going to get something to eat. Will be back." He slunk off, and Claire sat down on the bench. It was too hot to be rude. She tried counting down the minutes, but eventually her mind began wandering... Memories were monsters.
"Hurry." Soz lifted her bag and followed Claire out. They entered the lift, and Claire briefed her on the way up.
"Your sister is waiting at the intersection, at the corner of the road."
"Thank you for getting her out."
Claire nodded. A few days ago, Soz had burst into the house. Simatrex had suddenly started sending people with genetic mutations to Vangon A, even when their illnesses were not caused by radiation. One batch had gone... and there was no word of them ever returning. Food was running too short to sustain people who wouldn't be able to boost the population. Claire had no intention of getting herself involved, but Soz had pleaded with her, and... she had helped.
"Where will you go?"
"Out of the program, out of the city."
"You'll die in the desert, and your sister will too."
"Better a 5% chance of survival than a 100% confirmed death."
Claire fidgeted. The lift would reach the ground floor soon. She dropped her bombshell.
"I know your sister doesn't have PKU."
The pause was tangible.
"Ah. How long have you known?"
"Since one year ago."
"... Didn't you feel like telling Simatrex about it?"
"...No." Soz would have been in trouble. Serious trouble. It would have been worse for her than it had been for Retta. Claire would have tried covering for her too, but Simatrex had found out about her before Claire could do anything.
Claire unlocked the last gate, and Soz squeezed her hand in parting.
"I think you're a good friend. Thanks for everything." With that, Soz was gone.
And what the hell was the good of friendship? Would it keep her company when the friends were gone? Would it comfort her when she was scared? Would it bring back the dead?
Robert Kingston looked up and smiled as she entered.
"Is everyone else gone?"
"Yes. Epinephrine and Marcy have gone to get rations." He looked sad.
"Ah, they'll be transferred. Try to make sure they go to good homes?"
She nodded, and he handed her the gun.
"I'm sorry to ask you to do this, I'm not very good with guns."
Claire loaded it, and hesitated.
"Sir, won't you reconsider?"
"I can't. It's a miracle it took Simatrex this long to realise that I wasn't following orders, and it won't take them much longer to kill me. Perhaps they'll reward you for this."
"You could leave. There's time."
"My life is here in Siltra. I have nowhere to go other than this city. I'm too old." He nodded at the gun, and she picked it up. "I can no longer control my life, so now it's time to die."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be."
Claire flicked off the safety catch, aimed and pulled the trigger.
She stared at her fists in her lap. Unclenched them, stared at her palms, closed them again. Blood on her hands, and no one could see the stains. Retta. Kingston. These people she had killed for Simatrex, but it didn't matter. It was part of her job. Just carrying out orders. Watching over the Genome project, making sure that everyone was doing as they should. She had given birth to five children while she had been living with Kingston. Camouflage. That was all. She had asked about visiting them, but she was told that it was not advisable.
All her work, and not a single reward. And now... to be sent away like this.
Vangon A was where a new settlement was being set up entirely underground in the East. That was the official word. It was the future of Siltra, safety away from any stray bombs.
People wondered: Wasn't it strange that everyone who went there for the trials were the ones who weren't helping in the program? The religious, the homosexuals, the infertile... Everyone who didn't have radiation sickness, who didn't have mutations, but who had declined to join the program or have anything to do with it.
People stupid enough to think a program that claimed to be voluntary really was. Batch by batch, leaving by hovercraft... Some came back a few months later, avoided their old friends and family, and quietly joined the program. They didn't talk about Vangon A at all.
Claire was quite certain that she would not die, but she didn't particularly want to live anymore. Why should she? Her household had split up, the people she knew gone their separate ways. She wasn't important to Simatrex, not now. Bitterness welled up, and she bit back angry tears.
Then she heard the joyful laughter in the distance, and looked up unwillingly from her misery.
A group of red-hatted, red-overalled children. They walked past, two lines hand in hand, and she watched them go by, enthralled. Strange. The children usually took their walks in the morning, when the people in the program were forbidden from leaving their houses. To prevent incidents, Simatrex informed her.
Children were such a rare sight. She stared, barely registering that they had stopped, and that their minder was standing in front of her. A child stood next to the minder.
"This is your eldest child." Claire blinked.
"I beg your pardon, I wasn't listening-"
"This is your eldest child," the old woman in the red smock repeated. Her words registered, and Claire gaped. She looked at the girl, and the girl waved.
"Hallo!" Brown hair in plaits. A pale face. Bright blue eyes.
"She'll be six today."
"Oh... Yes..." The old woman turned to pull apart two boys who were fighting, and Claire pulled out a handkerchief to dry her suddenly-tearful eyes. She hid it just as the old woman looked back.
"I... why?"
"Because you helped me get out of the North."
Too old to give birth, too healthy to die. Yes, she had pulled strings for her. Now she remembered.
"I'm sure anyone would have done the same for you."
"They didn't." They hadn't. Too much trouble.
She wanted to say something more, but her words were drowned out by the loud whirring of the hovercraft. It was too soon. But there was nothing she could do. Always so helpless. She hated herself for a split second, then she looked down into the curious eyes of the... her daughter. Her tears welled up again. The old woman once again occupied herself with the children.
The hovercraft halted at the stop. Claire stood up and nodded to the old woman.
"Thank you."
She crouched down and waved to the little girl.
"Goodbye. It's nice to meet you." We'll meet again, she vowed. Somehow.
"Bye Mum!" A voice piped up. Claire jumped like she had been shot, and walked up the steps hurriedly. The little girl stared, then looked up at the old woman.
"Did you tell me to say something bad to her?"
"No."
"What's 'Mum' mean?"
"Nothing."
"Why was she crying?"
"That"s what people do when they leave."
"I want to go with her." The child pointed at the hovercraft.
"Don't be silly. You belong to Simatrex. We'll take care of you."
The old woman held the girl's hand, and they both watched as the hovercraft left. It paused as a man ran up and jumped on, narrowly missing getting left behind; then with a loud roar of its motor, it glided away into the distance.
the end