It’s the 26th of June in the year 2028, my fathers birthday and also the day of his funeral. In the last 10 years of the 17 years I’ve been alive, nothing has changed, the world is a bleak and emotionless place with no surprises, yet completely corrupt and baneful. the commanding parties pre-orchestrate our fate using a series of both physical and psychological tests and enforce their regiment using CCI’s ( Cognition Controlling Implants ). An idea by the self titled Dr. Zeus, we, the subservient toys and workers of our commanding parties are all implanted with a plastic matchstick sized rod at birth without these chips it is impossible to eat, drink, or even catch a bus. Without them it is impossible to live, well survive, Aren’t we already dead? the idea was offered along with a hefty bribe around the time I was born to the governing bodies of the world under the pretense that this would eliminate crime and destroy anarchy among it’s citizens, the details of how much the government actually knew are sketchy as when they were implemented they were described to the public as an end to crime, social deviance and the beginning of world peace. They’re designed to release hormones into the blood stream to control parts of our body and brain, much like the effects of a lobotomy, specifically it shuts down the ‘limbic system’ leaving us almost emotionless and stimulates both the ‘basal ganglia’ and ‘anterior cingulate gyrus’ to make us anal workaholics, they’re also fitted with a small Microchip which is used to control the effects and dosage of the implant while acting as identification and storage for our currency.
The introduction of the CCI’s went largely unopposed, however a small group of rebels called the ‘one percenters’ discovered whilst rioting against the state that our world leaders had already been dosing our water with drugs to the same effect for over half a century. this however proved to by less reliable as it resulted in a huge proportion of the population becoming lazy and unmotivated, while not causing any extensive trouble for their leaders their actions proved expensive. by the time the true intent for these implants became public nobody cared, nobody could care. except for the One percenters of course. they cared, or rather they did care.
After the CCI’s went mainstream the one percenters went out into the woods together to live, they started by catching their own food but vast majorities of their habitat was soon destroyed, some starved to death others retaliated by turning to cannibalism and eating the very predators that were sending them extinct which caused the military to take action and that was the end for what remained of the one percenters. what followed was the darkest inhuman years in history with the population of the wealthy nations numb their leaders left the 3rd world along with anyone else of age incapable of caring for themselves to die, the population decreased from 6,9 billion to a generous 800 Million in as little as 2 years.
With the help of Dr. Zeus and their wealth 40 individuals around (0.000005% of the population) which we only refer to as ‘the Pantheon’ had conquered the world and now owned it unopposed as their playground, but this wasn’t enough they planned to play god – hence the name, in the following 5 years around 1% of the remaining population became ‘the lucky ones’ they were the CEO’s, bankers and simply the wealthy, the rest were left to survive like ants contributing to the hierarchy of queens and drones for food and a chance of survival. we call them ‘the drudge’s’.
A Drudge lives a life of numbers, every meal we eat contains exactly the right amount of calories, vitamins and minerals our body needs, our days are mapped out into a routine of sleep work and exercise, as if we weren’t powerless enough the Pantheon began to take further control of our lives by screening our personalities and DNA to match us to our most suited career and the partner which would produce the healthiest offspring, recreational sex became a thing of history however being replaced by the healthier risk adverse alternative of artificial insemination, of course very few could afford this so your offspring would become the ‘property’ of the state as they would foot the bill, this meant your spawn could be called upon at any time unless your debt was repaid, and sometimes this wasn’t even an option. more often than not being called meant that you were going to war. Along with sex went art, music and many forms of literature including that of religious nature all became extinct not only being frowned upon but punishable by Ejection – your chip is turned off leaving you ejected from society, It is execution leaving the Pantheon free from blame and prosecution. Ejection is the fear formed blinkers that keeps the human traffic moving and more importantly, working. in a sentence, ‘the life of a drudge is an monotonous yet oblivious trudge to ones grave’ my father said that to me, he said that he wished pain upon these people for at least then they would be living and not just surviving, they were the only words I ever heard that shocked me, it still remains the only time I’ve ever been shocked. it felt like fireworks were exploding behind my eyes and that cogs on an ancient clock disused for centuries had jolted to a start in the back of my head. I never knew it was possible to think like that.
Today the World is constructed of two Nations, the United Western Emirates or the U.W.E and the Eastern Dictators Union or E.D.U. Ownership of these two nations despite being at war for half a decade currently resembles two tessellating L’s on the map with the U.W.E owning the western and central northern sectors. the Pantheon are split between these two nations, at first they were ‘the men behind the throne’ but they soon found the merely aesthetically pleasing puppets we called Presidents and Prime Ministers redundant and after the implantation started they took the positions of power for them selves, unchallenged.
As I stand alone at the foot of my fathers grave unable to bring myself to look as his coffin is lowered into the ground by the loud clanky machinery I stare at the puddle before my feet and staring back is my reflection, I pick apart the young girl into a pale oval shaped face with two smaller olive sized ovals for eyes, one as green and as big as a polished emerald the other sky blue, a small speckle lies in the blue eye directly under my pupil which my father fondly referred to the keyhole to my soul, to me my eyes just make me appear like two different people. and they’re ever so slightly rotated towards an absurdly straight nose, my brows and lash’s are groomed to a military standard, my mouth as wide as a fist, pronounced by lips coloured to a young pink rose and as if the rose had grew within me my cheeks are a minor shade brighter. all hung upon a larger than average neck and shaped by my warm platinum fringe which is cut long on the right and mid-length to the left, with the rest of my locks and bangs pinned back into a protruding mess.
My eyes dot around the puddle landing on my ‘keyhole’ the grief I am attempting to hide from strickens me, the rope that had been crawling down my throat since my arrival had snaked a noose around my heart and as if the gallows had dropped sending my heart plummeting like a rock to the depths of my stomach I was left with a sense of emptiness were my heart belonged a choked throat and heavy stomach, the more I thought about my father and the situation I was now in the more my body drained, I became weak and heavy. a sense of white wasted over me although the blood my heart had been pumping around my body was gradually slowing to a halt, as such my brain could see no further into the future than the lifespan that was expected, I fall to my knees to weak to stand and crash into the puddle before me, I curl as my torso begins to convulse and become panicked when tears burst from my eyes sending my face into a spasm I cannot control it and it is the strangest feeling, I no longer feel like death is imminent however I do not feel happier or enlightened, it is as although my body has chosen to fight off these demonic feelings my rinsing them from me with an abundance of water. strange questions enter my head; what are these emotions? what is the meaning to this, and to life?… Did my father love me? my brain converses back with me “beats me”, “More than you can see, that’s for sure” “Of course he did, never question that again!” a lump gathers in my throat as I answer my final question when my heart stops and my world freezes, My Jaw Clenches and my world Narrows when coated in red sending my heart into overdrive enters my mind, “Who Killed My Father?”
I’m Suddenly alert of how vulnerable I am as I notice movement from over the graveyard as I look up. feeling embarrassed and ashamed of my weakness I stand to regimental attention pawing away the few tears that continued to roll down my cheek, I choose to ignore my soggy clothing trying to come off as proud as possible. not breaking stance I glance in the direction from which the movement came and sure enough beneath two tall oaks in the distance four Strangers, and I mean that in every sense of the word. Not only were these people I’ve never seen before, they were unlike anybody I’ve ever seen before. Just the way they stood together gave off a real energy, an aura, such a sense of comradeship it made it almost impossible to view them as individuals and not a group, just by looking at them I could tell they were protective of each other, like they would rip my hands off before I could even imagine hurting one of their own, I could tell they had known each other for a lengthy amount of time and been through some real hardships together too. they held so much purpose yet they weren’t doing anything, just stood there. watching me, they were like a big bold black splogde in the middle of a pristinely white world. I wondered where they had come from, no where I knew about, nobody cared about funerals, and they wouldn’t have been able to get out of work if they had, no these people were different, I mean those clothes! leather jackets, sleeveless waist coats and colours I didn’t even know existed, and were those tattoo’s?
I could feel their gaze burning into me and I became all choked up and aware of how I must look whilst my heart or began to pound, feeling embarrised I weighed up my options in my head. A – Ignore them, B – Approach and question C – Runaway… definately C. I dropped my shoulder turned and ran like a couger was after me trying not to trip on the gravestones and tree roots , I never stopped or looked back until I reached the city district enterance I wouldn’t have stopped there if I hadn’t have thought I’d have been arrested and sent for recognitioning, I leant against the gates out of sight and checked I wasn’t folllowed as I caught my breath and waited for my skin to unflush feeling although my sides were splitting I was reminded of Military camp and my awful drill instructor who would bully me untill I didn’t have the energy to climb the stairs to my bed begrudgenly I thought to myself how thankful I was right this second. by the time I had finished day dreaming I was breathing normally again. I held my arm in the SKAN box to open the gate and head inside.
Glancing up at Grey city’s skyline I set out for home through the industrial sector. feeling slightly safer I begin to review the recent events, who where those people? and what was I going to do without my father? he was the cornerstone of my life, my mentor and guide, my carer, everything. infact my relationship with him was the only relatoinship I had in grey city, I didn’t feel that close or connected to anybody else and was certain nobody else had a relatoinshinp like that either, thinking about it, If we were seen together it must have looked strange to an outsider – physical contact, laughing etc., I didn’t sense that other parents cared about their children like my dad cared about me, but then again maybe that was just because I Hadn’t seen their moments alone. but nevertheless, I couldn’t begin to imagine a life without that kind of connection again. it would be so blank and unfulfilling. and I learnt more from my dad than I did anybody else. would I never learn anything ever again? that sinking feeling was back again, I wish I was the one that had died. I then found myself wondering what the post-mortom tomorrow would reveal about the death of my father.
I was approuching the Underground station when I noticed somebody sat by the turnstyles, presumeably it was an ejectee begging for somebody to allow them through and into the tunnels, I got close enough to make out a white haired woman coverd by a fleece blanket, however around her neck hung a sign reading ‘only God can judge me’ I wasn’t curious as to why she had been ejected anymore. She didn’t speak a word to me as i passed her and I was just about to Put my arm into the SKAN box when i thought I’d ask her where she was going, I could walk the rest of the way home after all it was’t far.
“hello, erm , Excuse me where are you going”? I asked rather timidily.
“Heaven” she replied with a strong confident voice
“O I’ve never heard of that, Is it out of the city?”
“I cannot get there by train dear, Heaven is the aftelife, I must die, before I arrive at the gates”
“Well Can I Let you inside where theirs shelter? I replied shocked not knowing what else to say.
“No thankyou Dear, It’ll be quicker this way. now runalong before you miss your train and catch a cold. and god bless you”
I turned around in a daze and headed down the stairs to the platform. ‘may god bless me?’ As if today hadn’t been strange enough already. where were these people coming from, and where had they been hiding untill now I asked myself. perhaps they’d been there all along and it was just my hightened emotions that was making me notice, but my chip should have dectected this in my homones and kept me level, so that isn’t it, with that thought my train arrived and I stepped onto the train, but as the doors closed I had the feeling I was being watched or even Followed, but I was sure I was the only person to get on and Keen to get back home and have this ordeal over with I just took a seat on the empty carrige and with a deep breath began to think about my father.