by Guy Morpuss
I checked the time. I still had well over an hour before dropping out.
‘All right,’ I said. ‘It had better be worth it.’
I had to admit that she had me hooked now. What could Karl possibly know about us that would be worth that much?
TWENTY-FIVE YEARS EARLIER
FIVE INTO ONE
DEPOPULATION ACT NOTICE
By order of Central Government and in accordance with the Depopulation and Environmental Accord Acts (‘the Acts’), you
KATHERINE WESTON
now being 17 years of age, are required to report to
ENTON GRANGE TRANSITION CENTRE
within no more than 28 days of receipt of this notice.
Whereupon you will further be required, within no more than 7 days of your arrival at the stated location, to make your binding election under the Acts.
This notice constitutes statutory notification of your right and obligation under the Acts to elect for one and one only of the following four options (italicised terms being as defined in the Acts), namely: (i) to exchange your current body for that of an android; (ii) to join a commune; or to remain in your current body as (iii) a hedonist; or (iv) a worker.
Failure to report to the location notified above within the time stated above will render you a fugitive under the Acts and liable to arrest and trial before a court of summary jurisdiction, which court will have the power to make your statutory election for you in accordance with the overriding objectives specified in the Acts.
Time will start to run from receipt of this notice, whose receipt has automatically been reported and logged.
If within 7 days of your arrival at the location notified above you fail to make an election you will be deemed irrevocably to have surrendered your right of election to the Minister of Depopulation, who may exercise that right or delegate its exercise in accordance with the Acts.
The hall was packed, filled with the chatter of over-excited and nervous teenagers. Rows of hard plastic chairs faced a temporary stage. Kate had never before seen so many people gathered in one place. She guessed that there were over a thousand seventeen-year-olds squeezed into the hall. In her village five people counted as a crowd. The noise was overwhelming.
She’d got there early, found a seat at the back, and waited as the hall filled up. Now she was stiff and fidgety.
She had spoken to no one. Just sat watching the empty stage at the far end of the hall.
At 10:00 precisely the lights dimmed and a tall grey-haired woman in a dark suit stepped on to the stage. She paused for a moment, then walked with precise steps to the podium in the centre. She waited for silence. Her image and voice were projected round the hall.
‘Good morning, children,’ she said. ‘And that is the last time that you will be called that. From tomorrow you are all classified as adults. Tomorrow you begin your lives.
‘Before you do that you must each make a choice. No doubt most of you will have been thinking about this for many years, and many of you will have made your choice already. You have all had the opportunity, over the past few days, to discuss your options with our counsellors. But we are legally required to give you one last chance to change your mind.
‘When we eradicated disease we drove back death. Soon there was little to kill us beyond bad luck and old age. Very old age. The result was a population explosion. A planet that was already on its knees was about to be crippled. Humans make up less than one hundredth of one per cent of the planet’s biomass but have devastated more of it than any other creature or natural disaster. Nothing compares to our powers of destruction. Research showed that the most environmentally damaging act that any human could commit was to have children. Every human added further to the intolerable burden that we were imposing. Which eventually would kill us all.’
There was a low murmuring amongst her audience. Like Kate, they would have heard all this before. Many times. They just wanted to get it done.
The speaker hurried on. ‘We can’t stop having children. We need them. We need you. So we came up with our greatest achievement of all.’ Her voice lowered. ‘Fair use.’
She paused and looked around. ‘Everyone is entitled to fair use of resources. No one is entitled to more than their fair share. Everyone is allocated the same share at birth. For the first seventeen years of your lives you have been housed, educated, fed, watered and nurtured. You have bought those services with some of your time allocation.
‘Now you must choose where you go from here. You have five options. Don’t criticise anyone for their choices. There are certain stereotypes but they are wrong.
‘First, you may choose to be a worker. If you do, very little will change. You will be taken from here and educated for the next five years. After that you will be found a job and will earn time. You will spend that time. You will live your life and pass on. Some deride workers as dull and unimaginative. Some say that people choose to remain workers from fear of the other choices. Those criticisms are unfair and wrong. It is an honourable and honest choice and I commend it to you. Unlike all other choices, there is no set limit on your time here. You have no expiry date. Some workers – a very few – may even outlive communal bodies. From past experience around one-third of you will choose to be workers.
‘Second, you may choose to be an android. Make that choice and your mind will be removed from its current body, so expensive to feed, house and maintain – so wasteful of resources. The essence of your mind will be uploaded into an android body that is virtually indistinguishable from the real thing. Your new body will seem exactly the same to you as your current one. An android can do anything that a human can. But its drain on resources is minimal. You won’t need to eat or drink. All you need is a little power, occasional upkeep, and that is it. You will never get ill. Not only that. In return for your commitment to fair use you will be allocated eighty years of time. You will live till then and pass on.
‘Some are frightened of this choice. They fear that it will change them, make them less human. But there is nothing to be scared of. It is a fine choice.’ She paused. ‘It was mine.’
Well that explains her cold, precise manner, thought Kate. Typical andi. No longer human, but always believing themselves better than everyone else.
‘It’s also a myth that androids are in some way superhuman. We are not.’ She cracked a weak smile. ‘I can’t jump over buildings or run any faster than you can. We are just like normal humans. But better, in some ways.
‘Don’t confuse sentient andis with non-sentients – what you know as dandis. Dumb andis. Those are just andi bodies with basic artificial intelligence that are used for dangerous jobs, or by some of the very rich as their personal servants, or,’ she screwed up her face in an expression of distaste, ‘for less salubrious functions. Dandis are entirely different. They have no minds.
‘It may surprise you to know that becoming an android is a popular choice. Again, around one-third of you will choose that. It makes good sense.
‘Third,’ she said, ‘you may choose to be a hedonist. That is an unfortunate pejorative term, but it has stuck. It is a choice of sacrifice, and should not be criticised. You will be given a very generous allowance, a fine home, and you will never have to work. But in return your time here is limited to a further twenty-five years. At age forty-two you will pass on. Think carefully if this is your choice. What seems like a good idea now may not look the same in twenty-five years. There is no going back. Around a quarter of you will choose this.
‘Fourth, you may choose to join a communal body – what you may know as schizos. Another word that’s best avoided.’ She shook her head. ‘It’s a derogatory term, but unfortunately it has stuck. Try as we might, we’ve never managed to come up with anything better. Those of you who choose this will be allocated a group by reference to aptitude, intelligence and grades.
‘In recognition of the significant sacrifice that you will be making – the removal of four wasteful bodies from society – you
will each be allocated twenty-five years, and housed and fed. Enough to keep you comfortable. You may work if you wish, to earn extra time, but you will not need to. At the end of each life – after twenty-five years – you will be returned here for your old host to be recycled and your minds moved to a new host. Communes are the most long-lived of all. You will not pass on until you are 142, at the end of your fifth life. Communes are the rarest of all. Fewer than one in ten of you will choose that, and it takes five of you to make one commune. But for some it is definitely the right choice. It means that you will see a time that none of the rest of us will see.
‘There is a final option. You may not wish to travel down any of the other paths. You may feel that your greatest contribution to society is to cease to be a burden upon it now. If so, you may choose to terminate both your body and mind. That is a selfless choice, and one that is much admired. But it is not one that you should take lightly. It avoids society wasting its resources on those who may choose to discard their lives at some future point. If it is your choice you will not be allowed to make it today. You will, depending upon the individual, undergo weeks or even months of counselling first. Only when it is right for you and society will you be permitted to take that path.
‘One last point. Generally you may not buy or sell time, or give it away. Otherwise the strong would prey on the weak. There is one place you may do so: the temporal reassignment challenge facilities. What you know as death parks. You may enter these by choice at any time. Most only do so when they are near the end of their time, when the potential rewards outweigh the risks. There you may play games to acquire the remnants of people’s time. It is a choice you will not need to make for many years, and most choose never to enter. Be warned that most who do, die.’
She paused again and looked around.
‘Today your choice is very different. More pleasant. You will have until 14:00 to report that choice. If you already know, you may tell us now. If you are uncertain there will be staff and counsellors available for the next few hours to assist.
‘I wish you well. Choose carefully. You are choosing how you will live. You are choosing when you will die.’
•
‘Mike. Mike Ganzorig.’ The tall, well-muscled youth held out his hand. His grip was firm and reassuring. He smiled at Kate’s puzzled frown, a twinkle in his hazel eyes. ‘It’s Mongol. Genghis Khan and all that.’
‘Ah … right,’ Kate said, thrown by his odd introduction. ‘I’m Kate. Kate Weston. Not Mongol.’ In other circumstances she would have been pleased to be alone in a room with this handsome young man who looked as though he’d just stepped off a fashion runway. But this was different. It was not a date, but something far more intimate. Of all the boys that she ever met, this was one that Kate knew she could never go out with. It felt weird.
His grin widened, showing perfect white teeth. He seemed at ease, but sensing her nerves. ‘So, is this your first time?’
She laughed, but was spared answering as the door opened and three more people walked in.
The first was a blonde girl with flawless skin and a cat-like grace. She paused in the doorway, looked Mike up and down, and glided over with a smile. She stood on tiptoe to kiss him lightly on the cheek.
‘Sierra Summers,’ she said. ‘You must be Michael.’
He grinned back. ‘Call me Mike.’
She nodded to Kate, slightly dismissively.
‘Nice to meet you too,’ said Kate.
Sierra was followed by a short boy with a mop of dark curly hair. It would have been generous to call him overweight. He was sweating despite the coolness of the room, a dark patch staining the front of his shirt. It was rare to see anyone that size. Kate wondered how his parents had afforded the monthly fines that would have been levied for ‘chronic overconsumption of resources’. Perhaps he’d got a medical exemption. Perhaps that was why he wanted to become a schizo.
He looked around quickly. ‘Hello, all. I’m Alex,’ he said.
Last in was a boy who looked no older than twelve. He was painfully thin, his face hidden under a black hood, head bent down, his pale skin and glasses barely visible. It wasn’t obvious whether that was because he didn’t want to meet their gaze, or because he was being careful to avoid stepping on the cracks between the tiles. He was muttering under his breath and seemed to be counting. He stopped and looked up briefly. ‘Ben,’ he said quietly.
Sierra pulled a face, and grimaced towards Mike. He shook his head.
Kate found it hard to believe that these were the four people with whom she had been selected to spend the rest of her life. Was it too late to change her mind? Could she ask for a different group? Mike was all right, but Sierra seemed contemptuous of her. Alex looked as though he had no self-control. And she didn’t know what to make of Ben.
‘I suggest we get started,’ Mike said. ‘There’s a lot for us to do today.’
The only furnishings were a table and five chairs. There was also a screen on the wall. Until they were adults they would not get implants or lenses.
As they sat, the screen came to life. It was the same woman who had addressed them in the hall. This time her message was pre-recorded.
‘Congratulations on your choice. In this short presentation you will receive some additional information specific to your future.
‘You will now have got to know the other four members of your commune.’ She smiled. ‘If you are anything like ninety-nine per cent of the people who come through these rooms you are probably looking at the other four and thinking someone has made a terrible mistake. How can you possibly have been matched with people who are so different from you?’
There was nervous laughter round the room. Kate glanced at the others. Clearly they felt the same as she did.
‘You have to trust us. We have been doing this for a long time, and we know what works. In the early days we used to match people by interests, similarities, male with male, female with female. But it often didn’t work. It is sometimes possible to unwind a commune, but even when it works it leaves deep mental scarring. In the early days we found that we were doing it all too often. Putting people together who are similar doesn’t work. As with everything in life, you need balance. You five have been carefully chosen to achieve that balance. You are different, but because you are different it will work.
‘We no longer offer the option of unwinding. It is too easy to take that choice as a way out when things get a bit difficult. We have discovered that it is better to leave things as they are, and for the commune to find its own solutions over time.
‘That is not to say that you won’t have disagreements. But as with any relationship you will have to learn to compromise. Sometimes you will give and sometimes you will take. There is a reason that there are five of you. You will decide things by majority vote. With five you will reach decisions, even if not all of you agree with all of them.
‘You will make your first decision today. A decision that will remain with you for the next twenty-five years – who is to be your first host? You may keep one of your current hosts, or you may select one provided by us, at a cost. Those that you do not use will be reused or recycled. You will receive time credit for them. The basic credit is three years for each body. However, particularly desirable bodies may receive remote bids from third parties. You will be able to check bids shortly. Whatever total credit you receive you will be able to spend now, if you wish, on certain limited enhancements that are available. Or you can keep it for the future.
‘A few practicalities. Many people think of communes like a collective mind. That is incorrect. You remain separate individuals. Though you will share one body you will have no direct contact with the others. You can send each other messages during your part of the cycle, but you cannot speak directly. You cannot read one another’s minds. You will have no contact except what you want to have. You will not know what the others have done in their time unless they tell you.
‘You will need to work out a ba
lance, a way of cooperation. You are sharing a host and must treat the others fairly. You must respect the host. There are protocols that will bind each of you. Any breach of the protocols will be punishable by loss of time, at the discretion of the group. Hopefully you will have no need of that.
‘There are a few other decisions that you must make today. You must choose the order in which you cycle. The cycle begins at 6:00 in the morning and ends at 2:00 the next morning. Try to choose a place that fits with your personality. One of you will not see the sun for the next twenty-five years. So don’t choose the last slot if that would worry you. Two of you will only ever see daylight. These choices, once made, will be fixed for this lifetime. You can change them when you move to your next host.
‘The reality is that you will spend this first lifetime working things out, and deciding how to do things better in your next host. I wish you well with your choices and your life.
‘As well as learning about one another you will need to learn about yourselves, and how to make your new life work. Relationships are never easy for members of a commune. Most people don’t want to be with someone who is only around for four hours a day. Keep in mind that people may see you as older than you are. Because you are only living four hours each day, in your early lives you will be much younger in life experience and emotional development than you appear. When you near the end of your first life others will see a body that is more than forty years old, but not realise that it houses twenty-year-old minds. You must learn how to deal with that.
‘You have until the end of today to make your choices. If you need assistance, please ask. You will stay here overnight and tomorrow we will carry out the medical procedures necessary to add your implants and create the commune. After a few days’ rest you will be sent out to your new lives. As one.’
The screen went blank. They were silent for a moment, seemingly overwhelmed by their choices.