Chapter Two
The next morning, I sit in my usual spot on the public vehicle. Even though Dominic and I ride the same bus every day, he sits by his colleagues in the back while I find a seat to myself.
Over the years, our life expectancy has increased to the point where it’s now rare for people to die before reaching one hundred. Because we live for such a long time, we go through schooling until we’re twenty-eight.
We’re given our specializations at twenty-four but until then, we focus on every subject equally, unless our educator recommends an alteration of schedule. Dominic got his specialization three years ago. Since then, he’s been studying at a different facility that’s close to the main campus. I still have another two years until I receive my assignment.
I stare out the window to pass the time. I always breathe a sigh of relief once we drive out of the shadows of the living quarters. The buildings there all contain around fifty floors. I find them extremely stifling and look forward to leaving their oppressive nature every day. However, the clouds prevent the sun from greeting us today.
Rain falls gently and beads on the window. The water drops seem to race each other down the glass. I always root for the smaller drop to reach the bottom first. But, every time, the bigger one wins.
A high-pitched, nasally voice interrupts my thoughts. “Oh, dear me. Is that Annalise’s youngest?” In recognition of my mother’s name, I jerk my head away from the window. The voice is attached to a lady, probably in her mid-fifties, with large, buggy eyes. She’s standing in the aisle with another woman, similar enough in appearance they’re probably related.
The second voice gasps in excitement, “I’m not sure. You,” she points to me. “Look here.” I do as commanded and their eyes light up. “It is. What’s your name again?”
“My name is Elliot. Do I know you?” I ask. They’re both wearing the red coloring associated with the medical field.
Both of them giggle and the first lady says, “We went through training at the same time as your mother. Of course, she was in a different class.”
“It’s nice to meet both of you,” I say in an attempt to end the conversation. I have an idea of what they want and have no desire to speak with them.
They refuse to take the hint. The ladies sit down in the seats next to me and continue the conversation anyway. “Where are you going right now?”
The question catches me off guard. I thought it was obvious. “I’m going to school.”
The first lady screeches and pats my shoulder. “That’s just so inspiring.”
The other one nods encouragingly.
“Despite your disability, you’re still going to school.”
My cheeks flush. A snicker erupts from the seat behind me. The women press on.
“And your mother! We haven’t spoken in awhile, but she’s a tolerant lady. Not many people would have carried you to term being well, you know, what you are,” the one with the nasally voice informs me.
“I’m very lucky that she’s my mother,” I agree. I consider her one of the only good things in my life.
“Oh yes,” Nasally Voice sneers, “I couldn’t raise a child like you. In fact, I’ve terminated two pregnancies because I didn’t want to bring someone with such disadvantages into the world.”
The other lady nods. “Not everyone would put up with you.”
I’m at a loss for words and don’t know how to respond politely. What do they want from me? As much as I would like to, I can’t change who I am and the circumstances that created me.
Luckily, someone else joins the conversation so I don’t have to. “Excuse me. Do you mind if I sit next to Elliot? We’re working on a school project and I would like to discuss it with him.”
Before waiting for a response, he squeezes his way in and forces them to make room. They lose interest and lean away to gossip amongst themselves.
I look gratefully at Ian and whisper, “Thank you.”
“Don’t listen to them, Elliot,” Ian replies. His right hand rubs his forehead as if he’s trying to dispel a headache.
His sister’s funeral was only yesterday. I’m surprised he’s on the vehicle today. “I’m so sorry about Melanie. I can’t imagine the pain you’re going through right now,” I quietly say so only he can hear me. I don’t want to have the two ladies realize who he is. I can’t make out their individual words, but I hear laughter coming from them every few seconds. They’re oblivious to the situation.
Nothing but silence comes from Ian for long enough that I don’t think he’s going to reply. Our education building looms in the distance by the time he finally asks, “It really makes you think, doesn’t it?”
His voice simmers in anger. I look around to make sure no one else heard him. It wouldn’t be good for him if people heard his discontent. As a Planned individual, I can’t imagine he means anything too rebellious by that statement. Surely he’s just in pain from his sister’s death and isn’t thinking rationally.
We arrive at the education building and I exit the bus, entering the flood of students and educators making their way into the building. It’s one of my favorite parts of the day. There are so many people focused on getting inside that nobody notices me. In the crowd, I’m just like any other student in a grey outfit. I can blend in anonymously.
I put my head down to avoid eye contact with anyone. At the same time as the rest of my classmates, I walk into our assigned education room and take a seat in my usual spot toward the back. Our educator interrupts my unpacking of my supplies and calls me to his desk. Nervously, I walk over to him. My heart beats in my ears. This is the first time he’s singled me out for specific attention all year.
I shift my feet. “Good morning, Educator Haven,” I say.
He glances up and eyes me severely. “Elliot, I called you up here to inform you that I’m recommending you skip the remainder of your education and start your work assignment at the conclusion of the month.” He drops his eyes in dismissal.
Shock and disappointment course through my body. I look around to make sure no one else heard him.
“I don’t understand,” I whisper. “I still have almost two years left before my work assignment training begins.”
He reluctantly returns his gaze to me. “That’s an incorrect statement. That’s your classmates’ trajectory. Your time focusing on education is no longer beneficial for your career assignment. Everyone must serve a purpose in society and yours simply doesn’t require further education.”
I take a deep breath to try and release some of the tightening in my chest. “What function will I serve, Educator Haven? I was hoping to work in food distribution like my mother.”
His left hand strokes his beard in thought. “No, we have stronger students for those careers. You will enhance society by focusing on its upkeep. You should be grateful you’re a part of our society. You have family in the outer region of Accidia, correct?”
I nod in response. “My grandparents live out there.”
“You have seen how backward that population is. Imagine a life where your sole purpose is to supply the territories: Potentia, Robur, and Vis…” He scoffs at the idea and lifts his chin. “And let’s not even start about the savages living in Acroisia. The audacity of a group of people to turn their backs on all of the advancements our society has been able to offer.” He shakes his head. “We tore this country apart in the Civil War so we could genetically plan and escape from those limiting themselves—the Barbarians,” he finishes.
I struggle with the suggestion I should be grateful for being forced to devote my life on a career path I don’t desire. My heart drops. I’m going to have to tell my mother that I failed. “How many of my classmates will be joining me?”
He looks surprised at my question. “This is only impacting you.”
“When will this be final?” I mutter.
His attention focuses on the papers on his desk as he responds, “I anticipate by the end of the week. Please return to you
r seat, Elliot.”
I nod and numbly turn around. My dreams of following in my mother’s footsteps are shattered with my fear of working in the janitorial field taking its place. My gaze shifts upward and the startling green eyes of Ian stare back at me. Embarrassed, I lower my eyes and take my seat just as the bell announces the start of our school day. Right on schedule, our educator stands and begins our lesson.
“By the end of next year, most of you will receive your specializations for the careers you will be assigned. Everybody must serve as a productive member of society. I know for some of you, it can seem like a long way off, but it’s important that you understand how relevant these jobs are to your life, today.”
Just as my classmates straighten in their chairs, I slouch lower. None of this is relevant to me anymore. My future has been decided.
“As you all know, you will state your preferences for your job and that will be taken into consideration with the territory council. Let’s begin by going over the most important job: Genetic Engineering.” Our educator’s voice drones on.
While the rest of my classmates listen in an attentive excitement, I lose interest. I’ve heard this description so many times and it’s no longer relevant for me. Even though I never had a desire to be a genetic engineer, a seed of injustice smolders inside. That choice should have been mine to make.
“Before we could control the genes that were passed on to our offspring, so much was left to chance. Society was, simply put, overrun with the weak, vulnerable, sick, and those of low intellect. As such, many undesirable traits have been eliminated from our gene pool. They aren’t an option for future generations. From handpicking a child’s adult height to ensuring certain diseases, such as Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s, are eradicated, this specialized science ensures these cruel ailments are eliminated via genetic impossibility. Our society today is stronger and continues to flourish because of the works of these genetic engineers.”
He pauses and focuses his gaze on me. “Of course, there are still those in society who do not always take advantage of our modern genome and have children without these purified genes.” Almost all of my classmates shift to stare at me.
My face burns and I look at my desk. I’m the only one in this class he addresses, a fact I’m painfully aware of.
“In the past, this was very common and no one really cared one way or the other. However, today it makes a very big difference if you were Planned or not. These relics of the era of humanity’s weakness have been named the Unplanned. Planned children are born predestined for greatness. Each sequence of genetic code necessary to create these individuals is hand selected by this elite group of scientists. That being said, the Unplanned still have their uses,” he says and nods in my direction. “We need people to clean and do the other less desirable jobs required to maintain a comfortable society.”
The class poorly conceals their amusement. Someone in front of me cackles and says, “Elliot, it seems like you have a bright future ahead of you.”
Like always, I pretend to ignore them; although their words take on a new meaning after my conversation with Educator Haven. There’s no benefit to standing up for myself—I’ll only regret it later. Instead, I reflect on the past.
When my mother discovered she was pregnant with me, my father was outraged. Although getting pregnant unexpectedly isn’t uncommon, most often people decide to abort, like the two women on the public vehicle. Why bring someone into the world at such a disadvantage? In the past, this reasoning was used to abort when it was discovered a fetus carried disabilities. Now, natural conception is considered a major disadvantage, if not a full-blown disability.
My father wanted my mother to get an abortion and they fought about it for a long time, even after I was born. When I was eight, my father walked out on us. My brother blames me and has never let me forget it. I’ve always thought he was right. Plain and simple, I’m the reason he had to grow up in a broken home.
From the moment my mother refused to abort me, my father held my existence as a personal insult to him. Families are only allowed two children, so he transferred to another territory that would allow him to start over. When I was little, I would daydream that I would prove myself and he would come back and tell me he was proud of me. I know this isn’t realistic and I tell myself I’ve stopped looking for his approval. But deep down, I know this isn’t true. A parent’s one job is to unconditionally love their children and I prevented him from carrying out his sacred duty.
“There are obviously other areas the genetic engineers control beyond the aesthetic choices that the parents control.” The educator’s voice brings me back from my past. “We must ensure that society endures through the healthiest, strongest units possible. That’s why the government controls certain genes that are passed on to the next generation, such as sex of the child. Clearly, imbalance of males or females cannot be allowed.” The educator clears his throat. “This careful manipulation of genetics is, quite frankly, the most important career that everyone should strive for. Genetic engineers determine virtually every aspect of who a person will become. That’s why we need our best and brightest to pursue this path and help build a stronger, healthier tomorrow.”
“How many people are chosen for this program?” A question rings out from the other side of the room. The excitement and enthusiasm for this role is palpable. I restrain from rolling my eyes.
“It’s a very prestigious program to get into as only the smartest and most capable students are selected. The last entrant into the program was Dominic Greer, who graduated at the top of his class three years ago. Before him, there was a five-year gap between acceptances. The question is a good segue into our guest speaker for the day. Dominic is actually here today to speak to you all and share his personal story.” The educator walks to his desk and says into the phone, “We’re ready for you, sir.”
Dominic didn’t mention coming into class today. My chest tightens in anxiety. Some way, Dominic will use this opportunity to cause me unhappiness.
Maybe he didn’t realize he would be speaking to my class. I sink down a little more in my chair hoping he won’t notice me. The educator walks back into the room with Dominic closely on his heels.
“Oh,” the girl next to me mutters in appreciation. He’s always had this effect on the opposite sex. His eyes follow the voice to her and he shoots her a wink.
Looking rather pleased with himself, his gaze shifts and a look of gleeful anticipation sweeps across his face. He loves to watch me squirm, and right now, he’s holding the magnifying glass and I’m the helpless ant.
Chapter Three
“First of all, let me take this moment to thank Educator Haven for allowing me to speak today,” my brother says. He was blessed with the gift of charisma. “We have been trying to fit this in the schedule for over a month now. I am glad we are finally able to do so.”
My eyebrows involuntarily rise at his statement. How did I not know about this? Dominic looks back over at me and I try to hide my surprise, but it’s too late. He’s enjoying this.
“It’s nice to have one of my favorite students come back to the class,” Educator Haven says to us all. This statement doesn’t surprise me. Dominic has always excelled at everything, so, of course, an educator would remember him fondly. They don’t see the side of him that I do.
“Very bluntly, as a genetic engineer, we identify how to make everyone better. We dive into billions of sequences of amino acids and determine the precise combinations that produce desirable genes while eliminating disadvantageous sequences. We work with families to help identify what traits they want to be passed down to their children. This can range from a person’s height, eye color, intelligence, or even his or her physical appeal.” He takes advantage of this opportunity to nod at another one of my female classmates.
“What is extremely important, but sometimes not as appreciated, is our ability to remove the undesirable traits from the gene pool. As some of you may know, just last mo
nth, we isolated the genetic predisposition gene to cystic fibrosis. As long as children are genetically planned, cystic fibrosis will cease to taint our genetic blueprints.” Several people in the classroom begin to clap and soon, the whole class has joined in, including me. I don’t want to stand out.
Dominic allows the applause to continue for a moment before raising his hand to silence the room. “I could stand here and rattle off statistics and tell all of you how important it is to follow the route of genetic planning, whether that be in a career as a genetic engineer or planning your future children. But I will not. Instead, I want to show you.” Dominic gestures toward me. “Elliot, please come up here.”
My stomach drops. I knew something like this was coming. I sigh in submission and walk over to my older brother. I spend almost all of my energy attempting to make sure nobody notices me, yet here I am, at the center of attention.
“No need to be shy,” Dominic says. I awkwardly wave. My classmates respond with laughter. Dominic pats my back, a little too hard, and continues. “So, class, this is what happens when you do not genetically plan your children.”
Every face that stares back at me is filled with disgust, pity, or some combination of the two. It’s like I’m contaminated. Standing next to my brother, our physical differences are exaggerated. His six-inch height advantage allows him to tower above me and he has a physical mold of which I’m a poor imitation. Every inch of his body is covered in lean, hard muscle that allows him to look strong without being too big.
Beyond that, though, every movement and word that comes from his body is filled with a confidence that I’ve never come close to replicating. I wish for a natural disaster, a hurricane or earthquake, anything to get me out of this situation.
“Elliot and I are brothers. While I am the product of the careful, thought-out process of genetic planning, my brother was not. He is what happens when you leave genetics up to chance. Tell them about yourself.”
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