The Enhanced: Book One in The Enhanced Series (A Young Adult Dystopian Series)

by T. C. Edge

  How boring it must be…

  We step onto Liberty Row, not far south of Culture Corner, and Sophie leads us towards a shop called ‘The Inner Circle’. Inside, the place is dressed up with fine garments and clothes: dresses and jackets and suits and hats and all manner of other items. What strikes me above all, however, is that they’re all light blue, the same colour as the clothes Sophie is currently wearing.

  “Not exactly a rainbow in here is it?” remarks Tess, looking unimpressed.

  “Well it wouldn’t be, would it,” says Sophie. “Sky blue is the colour of all Unenhanced invited to live in Inner Haven.”

  “Ah…I get it. It’s a way of determining social rank, right?” I ask.

  “Well, yes, I suppose that’s right,” says Sophie. “This shop specialises in outfitting women, in particular, who are to ‘marry up’. And if you’re to visit Inner Haven, even for a day, you’ll need to be wearing the right colour.”

  I see Tess rolling her eyes, and feel a giggle rise up through me. Sophie doesn’t look impressed, but pushes on without drawing attention to it.

  Instead, she sets about speaking with the shop assistant, who quickly comes rushing from the back.

  “We need to set these two girls up in some fine dresses,” says Sophie.

  “Oh, congratulations,” says the shop assistant, turning to us. “When are the big days?”

  “Oh no, these two aren’t getting married,” laughs Sophie. “They’re merely visiting Inner Haven for the day.”

  I don’t enjoy the tone of her voice. It sounds like she’s looking down on us. Or perhaps it’s just my own insecurity. I can’t really tell.

  “OK, well one day perhaps you’ll get lucky,” says the assistant. “Come on girls, let’s get started.”

  Lucky. It’s not the word I’d use.

  The next couple of hours are simply torturous. When you grow up dressed in hand-me-downs and rags, shopping in a fine outlet such as this is hardly second nature. In fact, shopping anywhere would make me a bit uncomfortable.

  And yet both Tess and I are subjected to a dozen variations of outfits, stripped down and dressed up over and over again. The smile on Sophie’s face suggests she’s loving this, like we’re her personal play dolls. This is probably a rare bit of fun for her, given the mundane life she must lead.

  At the start, our opinions are asked for. After both Tess and I show an apparent lack and understanding of ‘style’, however, Sophie and the shop assistant begin making the decisions themselves.

  Eventually, after much deliberation, they come to a decision, and the shop assistant sets about wrapping up two identical dresses for purchase.

  “You do realise we have no money,” says Tess.

  “Of course. It’s all taken care of, don’t worry.”

  I choose not to look at the price tag to stop me from throwing up.

  After we’re done in the shop, Sophie leads us down the road to a beauty parlour. I know the women who parade around Culture Corner and the more expensive districts like to get all made up and looking pretty, but that’s never been my world.

  I guess I’m more comfortable in overalls and a pair of sturdy work boots.

  Still, my early discomfort fades away as a team of beauty specialists begin working on my hair and face and nails, scrubbing and cutting and messaging me as I lie back in a chair and stare at the ceiling.

  Sophie hovers about, pointing things out and giving the odd order. The women all acquiesce to anything she says, deferring to her higher standing if not her knowledge and expertise of beauty therapies. Any woman who has been known to marry up is certainly looked upon as special among our own class. Frankly, I just find her quite pretentious.

  Once they’re all done, the chair tilts back up and I look at myself in the mirror.

  The change is astonishing, my hair just as beautiful as Sophie’s now, my skin glowing, my hazel eyes popping. Everything has been trimmed and neatened up, the contours of my face clearer and more defined than ever before.

  I look over at Tess, and see the same transformation. She’s strikingly beautiful, enough to give Sophie a good run for her money. For a few moments, we stare at each other, as Sophie exclaims proudly: “You look positively stunning, ladies!”

  I hate to admit it, but part of me agrees.

  “Well girls, come on, what do you think?!”

  If it wasn’t for the many beauty therapists hovering around, longingly looking for approval, I’d probably just shrug and try to keep my reserve. However, I can’t deny the job they’ve done, even if I do look completely alien to my own eyes.

  “Brilliant,” I say. “Thank you so much.”

  Tess offers up some similar compliment. More than me, she seems quite taken by her new look, her eyes fixed to her reflection and refusing to look away.

  “Well, you’ll fit in perfectly in Inner Haven looking like that,” says Sophie. “Just try to make sure you don’t mess up your hair too much tonight. I’ll be able to touch it up tomorrow morning for you, but I can’t work miracles.” She turns to the therapists and distributes some money between them. “Thank you, ladies, for your fine work. I’ll see you again soon.”

  As we leave the parlour, I ask her whether she comes down here a lot, given her comment to the women.

  “Oh yes, my main role is to attend to women who are to marry a member of the Enhanced. Sometimes they need style and beauty tips, and to learn etiquette and such things.”

  “Why do they care about style and beauty over there?” I ask. “If you don’t have emotion, what does it matter?”

  “Well, that’s an interesting point, Brie. It’s true that the Savants are generally quite unemotional, but that’s not necessarily true of the rest of the Enhanced. And, the Savants still consider beauty to be beneficial if it means making the Enhanced happy.”

  “Sounds a bit superficial to me.”

  “It is, but there’s nothing wrong with that. You should embrace your beauty, Brie, and not question it. There’s nothing wrong with looking good if it makes you feel good too.”

  I can’t tell, at this point, if I’m just choosing to question her for the sake of it. There’s just something about her that grates on me, this air of superiority that she probably doesn’t even realise she carries around with her.

  Then again, can I blame her for that? If you’re specifically chosen to marry into the ranks of the Enhanced, you’re going to feel pretty special, right?

  The remainder of the afternoon involves a briefing about etiquette and the format of the following day’s events. We take up position in a little café, nestled in the corner of a quiet courtyard in one of the more prosperous parts of Outer Haven.

  There, Sophie gives us an extensive run down of our expected behaviours, things that anyone with common sense should naturally do anyway. Yet, given how we’re ‘nothing but Unenhanced’, the Court have seen fit to clarify the most basic of conducts and manners.

  Personally, I find it insulting.

  “Yes, I know it’s all rather basic stuff,” remarks Sophie, “but it’s my role to take you through it regardless.”

  I yawn, sit back, and zone out until she has something more interesting to say.

  That comes when she tells us how the ceremony will go.

  “It will take place at the base of the High Tower, upon a large open square. Now, there will be screens, and it will be televised, so be prepared to be famous.”

  Oh God…

  “Why are they televising it?” I ask.

  “Because it’s a ceremony to honour the Unenhanced,” says Sophie. “So, it stands to reason that the population of Outer Haven get to witness it.”

  “Well maybe they should have just had the ceremony in Outer Haven,” I suggest.

  A stupid suggestion. Like the members of the Court want to come down here…

  “That would defeat the purpose of it all. The honour itself is in visiting Inner Haven. This way, all the people get to see it.”

  �
�Great. The kids at the academy are going to have a field day with this,” I say to Tess, who laughs in response.

  And on Sophie goes, telling us about the rest of the day. The timings of the ceremony, the little tour we’ll get around the grounds of Inner Haven, the feast that will follow and the people who are likely to show up.

  Unfortunately, my mind is now busy with the thought of being shown across the entire city. At heart, I’m hardly the showiest of girls. And now, I’m going to be on display to the world.

  Sophie needn’t worry about me messing up my hair tonight.

  I doubt I’ll sleep a wink.

  9

  The morning of the ceremony follows a night of nerves.

  I’m exhausted.

  When I look in the cracked and partially stained mirror in my room, I don’t see the beautiful girl from yesterday looking back. My eyes are heavy and dark. My skin has lost its glow. Only my hair remains intact, although even that needs some tidying up.

  My mentality has changed too. Suddenly, knowing that I’m going to be seen by the entire city has made me consider my appearance more closely. Given how I’m at the age where I might start looking for a suitable husband, this could be an opportunity to make a good impression.

  More importantly, it’s an opportunity to not make a bad one. Knowing my luck, that’s the more likely scenario.

  When Tess wakes, she appears to be suffering from no such problems. Her hair, shorter than mine, looks like it needs no more than a quick comb and a bit of spray. Her eyes are bright and blue – they’ll surely look great with her dress – and her skin remains nicely clear and lacking in any redness or blemishes.

  It’s obvious that nerves aren’t a problem for her. That’s more my domain. She’s not the most social of girls, but she’s certainly got a deep well of inner confidence flowing through her. Rarely do you see her get flustered. Today will likely put that to the test.

  Sophie arrives early, as she said she would, in order to get us prepared for the ceremony before escorting us over to Inner Haven. She’s ushered into the academy by Mrs Carmichael, who leads her up to the second floor where we dwell.

  I find them out in the corridor, two women at either end of both the social and aesthetic spectrum: Sophie, all bright and beautiful, living her perfectly manicured life in Inner Haven; Mrs Carmichael, old and bitter, never more happy than when she’s sucking on a cigarette and drowning her head in whiskey.

  I do remember a time when she herself was quite easy on the eye. As a little girl, I considered her quite attractive, relatively speaking of course, especially given her advanced years. The death of Mr Carmichael, however, precipitated an already quickening decline into the haggard old lady who stands before me today, yellow of teeth and sallow of skin.

  I wouldn’t have her any other way.

  As I enter into the corridor, the two diametrically opposed women appear to be involved in a fairly frosty exchange. Mostly, the frost comes from my guardian, Sophie’s more buoyant nature insufficient to keep the cold at bay.

  It’s no surprise, given Mrs Carmichael’s feelings towards the residents of Inner Haven. She has no tolerance for any woman who thinks themselves above their station.

  “Ah, Brie,” says Sophie as she sees me, seemingly happy for the interruption. “Did you sleep OK?”

  “Does it look like I slept OK?” I ask sarcastically.

  “Hmmm, yes there’s some work that needs doing. Mrs Carmichael, if you’d excuse me. Thank you for allowing me into your home.”

  “I didn’t exactly have any say in the matter,” mumbles Mrs Carmichael, turning back towards her own room.

  Sophie ignores the jibe and breezily comes forward. I step back and allow her into my room. Tess sits up in bed, rubbing her eyes and yawning.

  “Hey, Soph,” she says after the long intake of air. “How’s my hair looking?”

  “Rather good, actually,” says Sophie, looking quite surprised. She looks to me again. “You need a little more work, Brie. Let’s get started, shall we.”

  Sophie moves towards my bed and lays down a briefcase. Opening it up, I see that she’s brought along a mobile beauty parlour of some kind, filled with all sorts of combs and brushes and other utensils, as well as make up and hair spray and various products used to turn an ugly ducking into a swan.

  I always find it amazing how people can alter their appearance so drastically with a bit of powder and paint. And not just the women. The more artistically inclined men down at Culture Corner will commonly dress themselves up too.

  Setting to work, Sophie rambles on again about the etiquette of the day as she puts me back in order.

  Mostly, we’re told to walk upright and straight, and to hold our hands neatly to our sides. Posture, it seems, is considered important in identifying higher class citizens. Anyone caught slouching or crossing their arms whilst in public are immediately reprimanded by ‘posture police’.

  Yes, they actually have those.

  Our expressions, too, need to be reigned in. Tess and I know as much from speaking with Deputy Burns that the Savants aren’t exactly expressive with their facial movements. The rest of the Enhanced, by the sounds of things, are required to adhere to that doctrine.

  “Smiling is allowed, of course,” says Sophie. “It’s considered a friendly expression, and so beneficial.”

  “Not so friendly when Deputy Burns tries it,” jokes Tess. “He looks seriously creepy.”

  Sophie laughs awkwardly.

  “Some Savants have trouble with it, although many of them look natural,” she says. “Especially the lower ranked ones. They’re usually less detached and have a little more emotion.”

  “So the higher up you go, the more cold and weird they are?” I ask. “I can’t imagine what the members of the Consortium must look like trying to crack a smile.”

  Tess laughs loudly. Sophie looks like she’s about to frown, but holds the expression back.

  “So, what expressions are disallowed?” I ask, struggling to ask the question in a serious manner.

  “I did go through this yesterday, Brie. Don’t you remember?”

  “I zoned out,” I admit.

  She sucks in an exasperated breath.

  “Well, OK then. Simply put, anything negative is undesirable. So frowning, gritting your teeth, shaking your head, things like that. Just smile and nod and everything will be fine.”

  “Must be exhausting,” remarks Tess.

  Sophie doesn’t counter the claim.

  Soon enough, our makeovers are complete. As expected, mine took a fair bit longer than Tess’s. We step to the mirror and admire Sophie’s work, my face once more bright and glowing and my hair suitably glossy.

  “OK, into the dresses please, ladies,” says Sophie.

  We slip into the sky blue dresses bought for us the day before. I wonder if we’re going to get to keep them after, but don’t ask. Frankly, I can’t think of a single occasion where I’d put this thing back on.

  Once dressed, Sophie brings forward some matching shoes. They look quite basic, flat on the sole and without any embellishments. I slide on my pair. They’re much too big.

  “Not to worry,” says Sophie, leaning down.

  She presses against the side of the shoe down by the big toe. Slowly, it begins to shrink in size until it fits perfectly.

  “Better?” she asks.

  “Um…yeah,” I say.

  I wasn’t aware that such shoes existed. If only my work boots had the same function.

  It doesn’t end there, though. At the rear of the shoe, she presses again, and a heel extends from the bottom of the sole. Up I go, gaining an inch in height, then two, then three. Soon, I’m struggling to keep my footing.

  “You have worn heels before, yes?” asks Sophie.

  We both shake our heads.

  She leans back in and takes the heel down a bit.

  “How about that? Try them out.”

  We both do a little walk around the room, then out in
to the corridor. A couple of the other residents of the top floor giggle as they watch our little catwalk display. I feel completely foolish, even here. I can’t imagine how I’m going to feel being watched by the entire city.

  After a few goes up and down, however, I manage to walk without tripping over. Still, I feel like I must look like a deer on ice.

  Or Mrs Carmichael after one too many whiskeys…

  “You’ll get the hang of it,” says Sophie.

  Clearly she has more confidence in my abilities than I do. Tess, meanwhile, appears suspiciously adept from the word go.

  “You sure you haven’t worn these before?” I ask.

  She shrugs and smiles cheekily. “It’s all about balance, Brie. You’ll get it…eventually. Hopefully by this afternoon.”

  Her little wink is unwelcome.

  Damn you and your natural balance.

  Unfortunately, I have little extra time to practice.

  “Come now, girls, we need to get going. We’re already a good few minutes past schedule.”

  She sounds worried. Clearly keeping us right on track is her priority today, and if she doesn’t see through that function, there might be hell to pay.

  Before we go, however, Mrs Carmichael emerges from her den and looks upon us both with a smile.

  “You look lovely, girls, you truly do. You’ll make fine wives to two very lucky men some day.”

  “I completely agree, Mrs Carmichael,” says Sophie. “Looking like that, they’ll be sure to impress the residents of Inner Haven.”

  I’m not sure that was what our guardian was getting at. She doesn’t correct Sophie, though, and merely tells us good luck. Then, as Tess and Sophie begin making their way down the corridor, she steps in towards me.

  “Have you taken your medication today, Brie?” she asks quietly.

  “Oh..no!” I say. “I’ve been so busy this morning I forgot.”

  “Well, do it now, quick,” she says.

  I dash into my room, open my bedside table, and pop a couple of pills. My stocks appear to be running low, something Mrs Carmichael notes.