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Perfect Flaw

Page 12

by Robin Blankenship


  Hope slid out of bed and then maneuvered her way through the mass of girls. She knew they were glaring at her. Tiffany bumped into her from behind hard enough that Hope had to catch herself on the bulkhead.

  “Give it to me,” Tiffany said. Hope squeezed the tiny statue in her hand and kept moving.

  Outside the cell, the corridor was ten feet wide and bustling with crew members going in both directions. Except to maneuver around the children, the crew ignored the orphans. The ship Wayfar’s duty was to transport the children. It was the cadre of robots’ job to tend them. Regulator conducted the girls to the mess hall.

  Cafeterias in space looked like cafeterias everywhere. Long rows of tables were bathed in the unappetizing smell of low quality food. Regulator lined the girls up along the wall as was customary every meal. As was also customary at every meal, Hope was singled out.

  “Hope Unknown,” Regulator said, “You will eat your meal first while the other girls watch. They can eat with you, if you surrender the statue.”

  “I can’t,” Hope said.

  “Then as usual,” Regulator said, “they must pay the price. Hope Unknown, do you not care for the other girls?”

  “I won’t eat,” Hope said. “They can eat in my place.”

  “Hope Unknown, that is unacceptable. If you do not eat, none of the others will.”

  “Please,” Hope said.

  “The consequences are of your own choosing. No one shall eat until you surrender the statue.”

  The other girls stood in line glaring at Hope. Tiffany’s right hand was balled into a fist. Silently she mouthed, “Hope, I’m going to get you.”

  “Hope Unknown, I believe it is time that you met my counterpart Arbiter.”

  The door to the cafeteria slid open and another gray ball entered the room. The ball headed directly toward Hope.

  “Hope Unknown, I am Arbiter. I will review your case file and decide accordingly. Follow me.” It led Hope out of the cafeteria and down the corridor to a nearby elevator. The elevator door opened up to a rather peculiar level. The corridor seemed to be sized for the dimensions of a kid. Hope had to pay particular care not to hit her head on low hanging pipes as she followed the robot. She wondered if the crew even ventured into this part of the ship. It also made her wonder what went on here that needed to be done away from the human crew.

  After several minutes of walking, Hope found herself in a large circular room. The room was awash with white light that seemed to emanate directly from the walls. Nothing was there except for a child-sized metallic chair that sat in the center. She was directed to the center of the room. “You may be seated if you wish,” Arbiter said.

  “Why am I here?” Hope said. She stood rather than taking the chair.

  “The other girls are being transported because they are orphans,” Arbiter said. “You stand apart and will not share their fate. Your fate must be different because you are both an orphan and a murderer.”

  Hope bit her lower lip and felt her cheeks warm.

  “It is true,” Arbiter said, “that you had a justifiable defense for your actions. The security cameras, in the alley, produced enough evidence in your defense. Law enforcement has determined you were lucky to have survived the encounter. It was fortunate your mother’s attacker ignored you after the initial assault. It was also fortunate you noticed the brick you employed to cave in the back of the man’s skull. Review of the footage has determined your mother was already deceased by the time of your blow.”

  “She was all that I had,” Hope said.

  “Why did you run from the authorities? They would have helped you.”

  “I don’t know,” Hope said. She looked at the floor and squeezed the small statue in her hand. The question had been one that had bothered her since she ran. “My mom had been saving up so that we could go to the park on the upside of the city. She wanted to take me to the zoo they have there. I realized that it meant more to her to give that to me. I thought about her dying sad because she will never get to take me someplace that was special to her. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, so I ran. I needed to be lost.”

  “And now you are here,” Arbiter said. “Your time for being lost has ended. Now, it must be decided how to deal with you. You are an extremely complex case. It is uncommon for a child to have dealt with the level of trauma you have experienced and still function in normal society. There is some concern as to your physiological well-being; yet, observation depicts a strong level of emotional control. We will try and salvage this trait when we wipe your memory.”

  “What?” Hope said looking up from the floor.

  An iris opened on the spherical surface of Arbiter. A crystal blue eye formed in the opening. It gazed at Hope. “Your short life is plagued with misfortune and you carry an excess of emotional baggage.”

  “You can’t,” Hope said.

  “The courts of the United Planets of Earth have determined, in your case, it would be merciful to relieve you of these experiences. It is why we refer to your last name as Unknown. Your future is in question.”

  “But it’s my life,” Hope demanded.

  “Will you try and hold on to it like your statue?” Arbiter said.

  “I have to,” Hope said.

  “Hope Unknown, why would you do this?”

  “Because it’s who I am,” she said. “I have a name!”

  “That is an acceptable answer,” Arbiter said. “Individuality is paramount to society, but society cannot exist without people willing to defend it. If we let you have your mind, would you be willing to pay the cost?”

  “What do you want?” Hope said.

  “First you must understand your situation,” Arbiter said. “The United Planets of Earth is currently in a depression. The government has created a policy of shipping undesirables off world to other colonies. Understand, you are deemed as undesirable by your own people. Three years ago, independent colonies started purchasing orphans from Earth.”

  “I’m a slave?” Hope said.

  “No,” said Arbiter. “But Earth has treated your citizenship as a commodity to be sold. This helps Earth to supplement its failing economy. After it was determined you were a ward of the state, it was within the government’s right to adopt you out. The Constitutional Empire of Cornet has laid out a substantial amount to adopt you. You now have two options. Your memory can be erased and you will be adopted out to loving parents who will raise you-”

  “What’s the option where I get to keep my mom?” Hope said.

  “Agoge,” Arbiter replied. “It is an ancient Greek term used in reference to training children to become soldiers. The Cornet Empire has adopted it to ensure a progression of highly talented individuals in the service of the Empire. The point of the Agoge is to be tough on children so that they can handle the difficult task of building and defending a new society.”

  “I’m not afraid,” Hope said. “I want to keep my memories.”

  “Rash girl,” Arbiter said. “You do not even know what is involved. It is a painful process. Perhaps you would be better off submitting your fate to those who are more enlightened than yourself.

  “Everything in my life has been painful,” Hope said.

  “Do you know what the statue in your hand represents?” Arbiter asked.

  “To me, it’s my mother,” Hope said. “It’s the only thing I have left of how things were before.”

  “It is interesting you feel that way, Hope Unknown. The figure is the Statue of Liberty. It represents a way of life and symbolizes freedom. Historically, it was the first glimpse of America immigrants would see when migrating to the old United States. It is ironic that you carry this symbol as an immigrant. Tell me Hope Unknown, do you consider yourself to be a free person?”

  “I don’t know,” Hope said. “No one told me what to do when I was alone. Is that what freedom means?”<
br />
  “Yes,” Arbiter said. “That is part of what it means to be free. As an orphan we have restricted your level of freedom, but not entirely.”

  “You haven’t tried to take my statue,” Hope said. “I know you could have taken it, but Regulator has made the other girls hate me for it. Why do you want me to give it up?”

  “It is hard to take freedom from someone who will not surrender it herself,” Arbiter said. “Yes, it is by design that we have made the other girls hate you. You have been allowed to show them that you have something they do not. Humans have a tendency to desire and at the same time despise what they do not have. We have highlighted this by giving you special treatment, and punishing them.”

  “I don’t understand,” Hope said.

  “Hope Unknown, I am disappointed that you have not figured this out for yourself. It is for your education. Freedom must be understood before it can be defended. In old America, it was once said that eternal vigilance is the price of freedom.”

  “You’ve wanted me to fight,” Hope said.

  “Good,” Arbiter said. Arbiter’s eyes shifted to red.

  “Because it is now time to put theory into practice. The other children have been informed that they will not eat until you surrender the statue. They have also been informed if they do not compel you to surrender the item, Regulator will shock all of them.”

  The door behind Hope slid open. Hope turned her head at the noise. She saw that Tiffany stood in the doorway with the other girls behind her.

  “One last thing,” Arbiter said. “If you surrender your statue to them, we will be obliged to erase your memories.”

  Arbiter floated away from Hope, abandoning her to angry faces. Tiffany strutted into the circular room and the other girls fanned out to either side of her. “Give us the statue, or we will take it from you,” Tiffany said.

  “I can’t,” Hope said. “They’ll erase my mind if I do.”

  “We can’t eat until you give it up,” Tiffany said. “We’re sick of being punished for you.”

  Tiffany and the other girls closed in on Hope.

  “It’s mine,” Hope said. “I won’t give it to you, and I won’t let you take it.”

  “I’m going to hurt you,” Tiffany said.

  Tiffany reached out to grab Hope’s jumpsuit. Hope stepped away from her and bumped into the metal chair. Hope reached down and felt the cool metal of the chair’s upper back brace on her fingers. Her hand curled under the edge of the brace. Tiffany continued to move forward, closing in on Hope.

  Her grip tightened on the chair and it felt weightless in her hand. Suddenly, Hope felt like she was back in the alley where her mother died. She felt fear and rage all over again. Hope locked eyes on Tiffany and swung the chair. The chair smashed into the side of Tiffany’s face and the girl dropped to the ground. The other girls grabbed at Hope trying to stop her.

  Hope swung the chair again. She brought the weight of the chair down on a girl’s arm that was grabbing onto Hope’s shoulder. The girl’s arm snapped.

  The chair bounced off the ground and Hope used the momentum to swing it in a wild circular arc to catch anyone else close by. She felt the chair bash into yet another girl. The girl toppled over, grabbing her knee. The other girls ran.

  “That will be enough,” Arbiter said.

  Hope dropped the chair and noticed Tiffany on the floor and bleeding from the head. Tiffany looked unconscious or dead, a pool of blood was expanding underneath her. Another girl was crawling out of the room while she tried to cradle a limp leg. Her jumpsuit was torn at the knee and a patch of red soaked the leg.

  Hope’s scalp tingled in muted pain. One of the girls must have managed to pull her hair. Her lip felt puffy and numb, she tasted something of tang in her mouth.

  “It is time to leave, Hope Unknown,” Arbiter said. “The crew of the Wayfar will tend to their wounds. The injuries sustained on the other children only appear severe. I believe congratulations are in order. You have earned your cherished memories.”

  “I don’t want your congratulations,” Hope said. “You’re a cruel and evil little machine.”

  “I am a reflection of my creators,” Arbiter said. “I operate strictly within mission parameters that your kind endowed me with. Though, in defense of humans, there are far worse things that exist in the galaxy. Things you will face soon enough.”

  “That doesn’t make it right,” Hope said.

  “I am not programmed for ethics,” Arbiter said. “I am programed to expedite the acquisition of resources to ensure the survival of the human species. Ethics are a luxury of those not facing annihilation. Enjoy your victory.”

  Hope took the small statue from her jumpsuit pocket. She held the object in her hand examining it shape. She committed the Statue of Liberty to memory and let it slip from her fingers to the deck. It bounced twice before it settled to a stop. The statue stood erect.

  “Explain,” Arbiter said.

  “I don’t need it anymore,” Hope said. “I’ve paid the price for the girls to eat.”

  “The others were scheduled to eat no matter the outcome,” Arbiter replied. “Again, why would you leave the object you have so cherished?”

  “Because I have my memories,” Hope said.

  UNDER A POMEGRANATE SKY

  BY MANDI M. LYNCH

  YEAR NEW 643

  “In the year M257, a large ship carrying reinforcements of every kind – food, people, medicine, supplies – encountered a series of problems that led them to an irreversible fate. They crash landed here, just up that rock face,” Mynerva stopped and pointed to a few old growth trees at the top of a seemingly sheer cliff before continuing, “on a planet they hadn’t noticed, without communication. In other words, they were stuck.

  “Axl and Abel, twins onboard the ship, set out to do a search of the island and went off in the opposite direction. There, they found sloping land, numerous habitable caves, and a large source of water. Once satisfied that this would be their new home, everyone grabbed what they could carry and set off through the woodlands and into the city they would call Topan. When they woke from their first night’s sleep, they gathered together to make the rules for the new lands. By the time the meeting was over, the year was 1, and the city was called Utopia, for this was their opportunity to have the world they wanted to have, and everything was going to be perfect.”

  In front of her, a group of children squirmed in their seats but otherwise gave her their full attention. Unlike many of the adults in Shellaghey, these children hadn’t been raised with the old stories and the iron fist of precision that they would have had in Topan. When adults told the stories, it was a rare treat. “But, My-“

  Mynerva cast the child a look and kept talking, pulling bits and pieces of her story from her memory. “There were two islands off the coast, and one was set up for government, with room to watch over, but to send a point – government was separate from everyday life. That’s how they wanted it, and that’s how it would be. The other island stayed empty for many years, but as time turned, it became The Manor. They set it up as a utopia, and even called it that, although the name ended up as Topan.

  “The year was New 314, and the area that had been able to withhold a population of up to 5000 people without much issue was feeling the pinch of a population of almost 17,000. A poorly prepared batch of seeds in New 299 had left them with an inadequate harvest, and a slew of health problems that they hadn’t faced before. People rioted. The government response was to build, and the planet got its first construction projects – the formal school, the residential buildings for the government employees and their families, boats for those set adrift, and The Manor took life. On the eve of the fourth full moon set, Georg, Ayja, and their four children made their way across the bridge and onto the island. Here, the children were free from the stares of people who didn’t like their misshapen bod
ies. It wasn’t long before a number of other people and families started joining them as well. They were allowed to in the beginning – families – but as The Manor took on more residents and the government took more control, all of that changed as well.

  “The same inspectors that were going around and welcoming new population were also checking for unwanteds. By New 320, citizens that were sent to The Manor were stricken from the life record, blacked out in a way that prevented anyone from seeing who they had been, instead of merely being crossed out at death with a line that left their name still readable. They were taken away as if they had never been, and the bridge back and forth had become a one way walk of shame, full of screams and tears. The citizens of Topan acted as if they didn’t know that anything was on the other side, but the people of The Manor got their news whenever a new arrival joined them. New additions to the population were always greeted with love and attention, and in many ways, they found The Manor to be more of a paradise than their former utopia had ever been…”

  ***

  Year New 588

  The grey clouds were dissipating, and Eirene sat at the front of her cave, looking out at Topan and rubbing her huge swollen belly. A cart rumbled past her, full of goods and trash, forcing itself through the muddy ruts left in the ground from carts that came before.

  “Good morning, Miss Eirene. Do you have any trash today?” the garbage man asked, forcing the cart to stop for her and her immediate neighbors.

  “It’s in the can with everyone else’s,” she said, pointing at the neighbor’s doorway. “Bad day for pickup, isn’t it?”

  “Hard to run this through the mud, but I’ll make do. You know the law, pickup every ten days. Gotta do my part.”

  Eirene stared at the city around her. “Almost looks like the law should be changed so you can come more often.”

 

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