Family

You have a monthly DNA collection scheduled for today at noon.

“I gotta go back to the med center? Couldn’t you have put them on the same day?”

Would you like me to change it for next month?

“Yeah, sure.”

All slots on that day are full.

“Then why’d you suggest it?”

If you want a more intelligent mini-me please purchase the intelligence upgrade from Me-Tech for only—

“You too, huh?”

The doctor’s appointment had left a bad taste in Liam’s mouth. He needed something to flush the feeling out. Liam groped under his bed for his pack of cigarettes, flooding his brain with nicotine seemed the easiest solution.

Liam was early to work for once, the dread of doing his job seemed oddly low. In fact, he was early enough to beat Andrew there. For being on some heavy substances the kid had been surprisingly punctual thus far.

“Hey Andrew, I got another medical thing I gotta go to at noon,” he called out once the younger man arrived not soon after.

“Again? What for?”

“The **** DNA collection thing.”

This is a public area, crude language is prohibited.

“You still have to do those?”

“I’m not that old. It goes ‘til age 40 I think, you gotta do it sometime this month too.”

“Have they ever used yours?”

“Hmm?”

“You know, for making kids, the entire point of the program?”

“Oh, yeah, they used it once,” replied Liam, racking the dusty annals of his memory, “pretty early on, when I was only 16. What about you?”

“No… they haven’t ever used my genes.”

“Well, it’s bound to happen eventually, most people have theirs used twice. Though, I suppose some gov house kids stuck as janitors aren’t the most desirable candidates.”

“What’s it like?”

“Whadda ya mean? It’s not like I’ve ever meant this person.”

“But doesn’t it feel weird knowing there’s someone who’s got half of your genetics running around?”

“I dunno, don’t really think about it. I guess it’s kinda crazy there’s a 19 year old who got their genes from me, but not like I’m ever gonna meet ‘em. He’s probably starting college now, unless he went into the military or somethin’.”

“He?”

“Yeah, they’ll send you a message if it happens and tell you the gender, oh yeah, you can also send a message or request, but that’s about it.”

“What’d you say?” asked Andrew eagerly.

“I just requested they keep at least one of his natural eyes intact ‘til adulthood.”

“That’s it? You didn’t leave a name or; you know, at least some sort of greeting or heartwarming message?”

“You only get 100 characters or somethin’, there’s not a lot of real estate to work with.”

“That seems kind of cruel, but why the eye?”

“Cruel? It’s not like I had a hand in his creation, I don’t know the kid, the gov just picked out whoever’s DNA they had in storage that fit whatever criteria they were lookin’ for at the time.”

“But what about the eye thing, why’s that the one thing you said?”

“Well, one of my DNA donors requested I keep one of my natural eyes until I was an adult and could choose for myself.”

“Ohhh, so that’s why you’ve only got one eye,” said Andrew, his face brightening with understanding.

“Yeah, I guess I just thought I’d pass it on. I’ve kinda liked having it, gives me perspective. I probably was a bit too sentimental at the time, but I thought it’d be a way to recognize him if for some reason I ever ran into him.”

“I think that’s kinda cool, maybe I gotta try that… if it ever happens.”

“It probably will. Eh, then again, I’ve heard they’ll sometimes put genes on ice for years at a time and introduce them back into the gene pool decades down the line for more diversity, or somethin’ like that.”

“Really?”

Liam shrugged, “I don’t have a **** clue, I just heard it somewhere.”

This is a public area, crude language is prohibited.

“Oh. But why do you think they take so many samples? Every month for decades seems unnecessary.”

“Biology, idiot. They only have girls do it once in their lives.”

“No—uh—what I was trying to say is that, um, you know, if it’s only two children per person on average, why do they need so many samples? It’s all done in labs, right? Surely that means it’s all controlled and they have a high chance of success?”

“Oh, I get what you’re sayin’. There’s probably money involved. If you ever want a question answered, just think about it in terms of money.”

“That’s so pessimistic.”

“Sure, but it’s also true,” there was a moment of silence, “Ya know, I think that’s one of the reasons why all the Union guys are coming. They decided the process of female donations is too intrusive and want our gov to make it optional, or pay them for it, or somethin’ like that.”

“I guess that sounds good.”

“No! **** them! You have any idea how much time and money I’ve lost ‘cause of it? I’ve had to do it for years! Why don’t they compensate me for that?” grumbled Liam, “I really don’t care to be honest, it just pisses me off ‘cause they’re doin’ it for the optics. I guarantee you they don’t care how we keep our population up or what the process is, the Union leaders are just imperialists trying to play hero to their conquests.”

This is a public area, crude language is prohibited.

“You seem to have a bad faith interpretation of everything.”

“Pay attention to their rhetoric, they’ve been focused on winning male approval so they can keep recruitment up, so I guarantee you they looked at polls and realized the female approval rating is down and decided to take some **** social justice stand.”

This is a public area, crude language is prohibited.

“I don’t really pay attention to the news much.”

“Fair enough, it’s all just trying to make you angry about something.”

“Yeah… it just makes me feel like a—a statistic, or some commodity being bought or sold. It feels like the people who’re supposed to care just don’t, that I was pumped out of a lab to be a pawn in someone’s power game.”

“Well,” grunted Liam, “this is getting rather depressing, ain’t it? We better quit our little pity party and start working before our pay gets docked.”

The usual pale crowds began their trickle into the station, a few yawning individuals, then a steady stream, and then a writhing downpour of bodies stomping back and forth. Being a major port station, foreigners weren’t uncommon, but now figures in black, stark pressed uniforms began piercing through the white froth. Orange markings and gleaming badges marked their Union status, and their imperious faces were filled with disgust as they looked about at the pale crowds with metal for faces.

With them Union soldiers began to appear as well, their faces hidden behind dark reflective visors, weapons clearly visible in their hands, a constant reminder of who controlled the stars. They were a dark stain in the pale tones of everyone else around, an uncomfortable sign of some long ignored rot now beginning to rear its stinking head.

“Hey Liam,” asked Andrew, his voice popping directly into Liam’s ear, “how long do you think the Union people will hang around?”

“I dunno, whenever they finish whatever conferences and inspections they’ve got planned.”

“Do you… do you think they’ll keep me on even after the Union leaves?”

“Probably not,” Liam cringed a little, it sounded unnecessarily harsh, “Well—uh—what does your contract say?”

“It doesn’t specify,” replied Andrew, his voice growing quieter, “they were advertising potential full-time employment, but if they’re only hiring because of the Union…”

“I don’t know, hopefully they keep you on. This place’s too big to be a one man job. Besides, well, you know, it’s nicer not being completely alone on the job.”

“But, do you… do you honestly think that I have a chance to stay?’

There was a desperate undertone to the kid’s voice, an unspoken panic threatening to set in.

“No,” replied Liam, “Trans Cont’s in the habit of cutting costs anywhere they can. You should take this opportunity to save as much money as possible while you try to find a different job.”

“Is there any way they might let me stay?”

“No, you’re just another statistic after all, a number on a spreadsheet. Besides, I thought you didn’t want this job.”

“I’m… I’m just worried that if I can’t keep this job, I’ll have nothing…”

He trailed off into silence, his voice sounding defeated, his words holding some unspoken weight. Liam wished he could see the kid’s face, the real, imperfect one carved from flesh, that he could see its emotions, that he could catch a glimpse into what the kid was thinking. There was something more going on than just panic over a first-time job, Liam was sure of it, but the kid would say no more.

There was silence for a long while, and when they did start talking again it was more cheerful, more airy, sugar-coated and purposefully ignorant. Liam had the odd sensation that he wanted to return to the conversation, that he wanted to say something, that he had to say something, but what was there to say? The kid was probably doomed to a life as miserable as Liam’s.

An uncomfortable air permeated every pore in the station as the Union soldiers and officials went about. The regular people going to and from their jobs were a little quieter, they hurried about a little more, and made sure to give the people in black uniforms a wide berth. A sort of anticipatory dread hung heavy in the air, an almost tangible weight pressing down on everything, a mounting sense of tension that was going to eventually snap and give way. It was the feeling that things couldn’t go on the same way, that something would be forced to change.

Time crept by, but no matter how slow its forward gait was inevitable and eventually the time rolled around for Liam to return to the medical center. The bottom of the pit, that was the best way to describe the place. It was ugly and dim, dingy and dark. Liam never felt good going there, it was like crawling down into a hole. The fact that he had to keep his right eye open all the time there made it worse. There was simply no way around it for filling out forms or following signs, and it bothered him, the way everything was forcibly coated in a shiny new paint to hide the drab ugliness beneath, the way ads fought tooth and nail for his attention, every face plastered with a smile as if going to the doctor were a joyous thing, rather than an unfortunate circumstance. His two eyes clashed there worst of all, the reality and forced fiction of the place violently colliding.

He checked in at the collection clinic, a squat building off to the side relegated to a corner overshadowed by tall buildings on all sides. The height difference cast it in shadows even deeper than the already dim plaza, giving it a haunted look, the uncomfortable sense that it violated some natural rule of human intimacy. It was an altogether uncomfortable place, inside and out. Here the state collected the necessary genetic samples to produce the next generation. Sperm and egg donations were mandatory as a way to carefully control the population to ensure it never grew too large or small, and that the people produced were of high quality. The state controlled all aspects of the birth of new children.

First, two genetic samples were picked to fit the necessary functional and diversity quotas to ensure a healthy populace whose genetics could be harvested to continue the grand evolutionary experiment. Second, by some artificial means of fertilization the samples would be used to produce fetuses that would be grown in wombs of steel and glass in secretive government facilities until maturity as a fully formed baby was reached.

For the third of the population that did get married, they could go through the necessary training and apply to have children placed under their care, but the majority simply were sent to the gov houses, to be raised and taught on taxpayer dollars. Sex and natural procreation were a social taboo, Union laws prevented illegalizing such natural processes, but if a child were to be born to unmarried individuals the state would likely find some way to prosecute. If it were to happen to a married couple it’d be less severe, but still a thing of shame they could never live down. A sign that they were sub-human. That they were controlled by the unevolved monkey parts of their brain, incapable of the proper reasoning and control that modern society demanded.

To many it filled them with a sense of pride, that they were building the most advanced society in human history with a carefully managed population of individuals free from many negative inheritable traits. This was the only society to have ever mastered evolution, to have unlocked the secrets of the human genome and controlled it. It was the necessary remedy to the many problems that had pervaded societies throughout history.

Everyone was made from the same basic pale slate, made equal in a lack of individuality, dull and blank, but as such blank slates they were free to express themselves in any way they might like in the digital realm, provided they could pay for it of course.

Liam had once accepted the idea, believing fully that he lived in a place that through careful control of the population was more equal and diverse, more perfect and better designed, then any civilization before. Yet, as he’d gotten older the cracks had begun to show, the painted colors faded, the digitization failing to hide the sad reality. If the government controlled everyone’s genetics, then what did that make him?

He was a runt of the litter, not gifted with exceptional skill or talents, birthed from a government facility for the singular point of increasing genetic diversity. People like him had no grand purpose, no place for them in society, they merely existed to pass on their genes and die. People like him existed in a world that wasn’t made for them. It was a world made for those who could accept its sweet lies as truth, or those lucky enough to be born on top. Liam had lived the lies when he was younger, but as he grew older the truth had inevitably seeped through. If they really were the pinnacle of mankind, how had they been so easily forced underground by nuclear war? How had they let the Union drop the bombs that turned the surface of their planet into an unlivable wasteland?

The indoctrination of the government houses hadn’t been enough, the mindless chattering of his mini-me hadn’t been enough, the endless propaganda and fake news hadn’t been enough, it hadn’t been enough for him to reject what he saw and lived through with his eye and ears—the flesh and blood ones.

An alert popped up before his eye, alerting him to an open room, best to get over with. It wasn’t an entirely deplorable experience, so long as you did it yourself. Rooms had sparse wash areas, and basic amenities were provided, like porn, and not the generated kind. Thinking about it, though, made Liam feel like an animal, crawling into the warm glow of society to enjoy its modern comforts.

There was a certain degree of degeneracy to it that made it uncomfortable. Written in law, it felt like an invasion of privacy, like something natural was being stripped from you. Liam put his hand up to his one flesh eye, feeling the round, warm lump of flesh that had yet to be stripped from him and replaced by cool, mechanical circuits.

After finishing he simply sat there for a moment, that uncomfortability gnawing at him, a prickly feeling down his spine, a cold sweat. Shame, that was the best way to describe it. Such carnal acts always left him feeling hollow afterwards, a moment of clarity that highlighted his own patheticness.

Best to wash it all away. To cleanse the body and mind. Liam began pulling his clips out and setting them on the counter, flicking his metal eye off and carefully releasing it from his skull. Some people never took them off as if they were truly a part of themselves. Liam never understood it, he wasn’t a part of the metal, it was merely an accessory, it had to be.

Liam paused, leaned over the sink and looked at himself in the mirror, his true self carved of flesh and blood. A bedraggled, gaunt figure stared back. An arm was placed on either side of the sink, and only one eye stared out from a too pale face. There was only an empty socket where the other eye should’ve been. Uncombed, messy white hair hung down about its head, and it stared back at Liam with a gaze empty and uncaring. It was an empty vessel, a husk masquerading as a human. It was an utterly pathetic creature.

What was it even doing, staring so soullessly out like that? What did it add to the world by taking up space? Why did it get up day in and day out to live such a pointless and contemptible life? Would it be better to simply get it over with and end it all? Did it have a reason to continue breathing? Was it simply cowardice that kept it going? Was it mere stupidity? Or had it merely been reduced to a machine, a creature coated with metal on the inside rather than the out that simply ran through its programmed tasks day in and day out because it no longer knew anything else? Perhaps that would explain why it was detached from everyone else. So many people passed by it on a daily basis, but their eyes were metal, their lips steel, their smiles made from plastic, their laughs a synthesized frequency. No matter how large the crowd, how talkative the people, it simply wasn’t one of them. It was an outsider, an inhuman creature that didn’t get it, that didn’t understand how they could be so carefree and happy, that didn’t understand why they longed to get up rather than stay asleep in a world that was so pitiful and fake. It was a husk, slowly rotting away. It had no reason to continue existing, but no reason to stop either, so it simply existed, and day by day, month by month, year by year it slowly crumbled to dust.