Kimber

by L K Hingey

  “Thank you, senior masters, for those exciting trade reports,” began Quinn as he bowed towards the senior masters. He launched back into the address with a grin that took up the entire stage. The citizens waited for the councilman to ask the Mothers if they had anything to add on behalf of the Auroreans, as was the yearly custom, but he did not. Kimberly was the chosen speaker for the Mothers, and she was not even amongst them. Eventually, everyone started to notice that the Mothers had been looking down the entire time, as if in silent protest.

  Tradition was not easily broken in Inanna, and the whole cavern could feel something was out of place. Dr. Quinn and the other council members were the only ones who seemed immune to it, and so he continued on.

  “As you can see, Inanna is stronger than ever. We have twenty years of accomplishments to draw inspiration from, and a lifetime of opportunity to propel us to greater heights, or should I say greater depths, for our future. And speaking of the future, today we have an opportunity to take a step towards preserving it. But I need you, Inanna, to help vote to secure it.”

  The Auroras were apprehensive. This was the portion of the address in which new ordinances were proposed and either voted into law, tabled for another year, or permanently removed from consideration. With all the preaching of sacrifice, the Auroras knew some big changes were going to be put to vote.

  “Before we propose any addition of, change to, or repeal of any regulation, I think it’s necessary for each citizen to reflect upon the gravity of the decisions you make this year. In order to best do that, we need to remember what our people have been through. Youth of Inanna, it is no secret I am speaking principally to you.” Dr. Quinn flashed his most paternal smile and reached out slightly with his hands as if imploring the more junior citizens to listen closely.

  “As the years pass, an inevitable shift is happening. It is a gentle shift... a natural shift. The torch of our pioneer city is passing from the older generations to a fully Inannian generation. In a few decades, there will be none left that remember the age before the flare. Firsthand knowledge of the seventy-seven-year peace will be gone, and what was once real will fade into fable. Humanity’s history before the Harnessing will be but pages in a storybook, and all that will be known is life underground.”

  “As with all things, this will come with advantages and disadvantages. The pain of the loss of the surface will cease to exist; this is an advantage. Pain holds us back. Pain can be crippling. Pain can cloud logic and reason. But there are also disadvantages to losing this pain. Dire disadvantages that we must protect ourselves, and our future loved ones, against. Yes, pain is uncomfortable and yes, if left unchecked, it can be debilitating. But pain is our primary guard against complacency. And it is in complacency, that everything we have fought to preserve could be lost. Complacency, my children, is the venom that could exterminate the heartbeat of mankind.”

  The cavern knew what he was saying was true. If the future generations of Inanna forgot how lucky they were to be alive, there was legitimate concern that life might not seem as precious to protect. The citizens could feel the centuries upon centuries of life above ground, all the trial and triumph of mankind, drifting farther and farther from collective reality. World history was already so difficult for the youth of Inanna to comprehend, that it was chunked into generalized time periods, just to help the citizens keep it straight.

  When young Inannians began to learn about the world’s past, it usually started with what the Inannians called middle-history. Dr. Diana-Mae had developed the theory that this period would be easiest for children to grasp and build a reference upon. This timeframe covered the year 1500 to the year 2000. Middle-history was further broken down by century: the renaissance period of the 17th century, the birth of America in the 18th century, the civil war of the United States and the following industrial revolution of the 19th century, and finally, the first two World Wars in the 20th century.

  The teachings would then advance to what the Inannians called recent-history, which was also broken down by century, but was enhanced with a more holistic understanding of cause and effect. Recent history included the detection of Elyria in the 21st century, which all but caused the 35-year Third World War; Elyria’s impact into the sun in the 22nd century, which kick-started the time of the first true peace called the Harnessing; and last but not least, the subsequent mega-flare of the 23rd century, which massacred all but 0.000002% of the planet. When the Inannians compared their measly twenty years below the Earth’s crust to all the centuries above ground, it was hard to fathom.

  When the youngsters tried to comprehend early-history and pre-history, it was nearly impossible. By the time they started trying to grasp the concept of the dinosaurs and the first ice age, it melted into a place of pure imagination where their comic book heroes also roamed. When kindergarten children were asked to draw pictures of the historic world, it was not uncommon to see a tyrannosaurus rex participating in a circus with elephants and sharks, or Jesus Christ and Thor the thunder god riding dragons in the sky, or ships dodging icebergs in oceans that were placed on the slopes of mountains.

  Although the drawings were endearing, and the adults who had lived before the flare found them outright hilarious, they also served as a reminder of the challenges that these children, who were the future of humanity, would face. The future of the world would never know what ice felt like, what oceans smelled like, or how majestic mountains could look. To them, unicorns seemed as realistic as giraffes, and not a soul on Earth could blame them.

  “And so, I beg you to remember what your mothers and fathers endured. Remember what their mothers and fathers, and their mothers and fathers before them, endured. Our world will never be the same, but every sacrifice for over a millennium helped bring us here... to the point of survival. Therefore, I implore you once more... are you living a life that has meaning here in Inanna? Are you doing your part, with happiness and contentment, to enrich the lives of your brothers and sisters who are working hard to enrich yours?”

  Dr. Quinn paused for a minute to let his words simmer. He then went to his rug and picked up a clipboard bound in leather. He returned to the center of the stage, cleared his throat and read, “Proposal one: to ensure that every citizen has enough resources, space, and opportunity, families will be henceforth limited to birthing two children. Woman who conceive with no plan of marriage shall give the child in question to adoptive families. The adopted baby will count as one of the two allotted children for the birth mother. When the infrastructure of Inanna grows, this decree shall be reviewed and re-voted upon.”

  The cavern was absolutely silent. This was the first time that population control had been proposed. Dr. Quinn looked up from his clipboard. He raised his hand. The council then raised their hands, followed by the senior masters. Slowly, hands went up all over the cavern. Not a sound was made, and the only movement was of the fire bowls flickering.

  “Majority rules. Proposal one of the year 2209 is now law,” Dr. Quinn said soberly. The citizens now knew how serious tonight’s address was. The concept of population control had always distressed the humans on the surface, but down here, where there was limited food and the outbreak of disease was always on everyone’s mind, it had only been a matter of time until it was implemented. What was not talked about was the ramification if the law was broken. That would be left to the enforcement division, and they were not known for being lenient.

  With a little bow towards the Auroras as he spoke, Nicholas Quinn continued to read his notes. “Proposal two: it is a known fact that humans rely on the Aurorean Inannians for survival. In return we provide water, food, shelter, education, and community. It is a symbiotic relationship designed for the well-being of all in Inanna. This delicate balance can only be maintained if the Aurorean genome maintains its ability to withstand the harsh environment of the surface. We are grateful for the work they do in retrieving supplies, medicine, technology, and raw resources. Without this link to the surface, both spe
cies will perish.” He scanned the audience, clearing his throat once more before reading aloud again.

  “This is why the Aurorean gene must be preserved. Unfortunately, we do not have the resources and abilities to graft DNA like we did before the flare. We are left with no choice but to request the immediate prohibition of human-Aurorean mixing... before an instance occurs of the birth of an interspecies child. There is no way to ensure a child born of both species would be able to withstand the radiation of the surface and we need every able hand on deck. Inanna, this is when we make the tough decisions to preserve our future. This is when we sacrifice. All in favor of the interspecies mixing ban?”

  Kimber glanced around, feeling sick to her stomach. Those around her were frozen in horror. The proposal was actually happening. Her fellow Auroras also looked like they were going to be ill. A law against loving a member of the other species? Sacrifice was one thing... blatant segregation was another. They had all anticipated more rules and restrictions, maybe even an increase in the mandated surface work time, but not this. This was enough to ignite the ember that had been simple malcontent.

  Eve stood up. Normally, the Mothers would have not only delivered a portion of the address regarding the wellbeing of the Auroras, but they would have served as a buffer between the humans and the Auroreans throughout the duration of the address. It had seemed the council had cut them out entirely though, and now the Auroreans had no representation at all. Interruptions weren’t commonplace in an address, but her fellow Auroras did not even try to stop her.

  “You are placing a ban on who we are allowed to love? You’ve already separated us from our mothers and our friends, and now you want a law stating that we can’t love freely because you want us to breed you more workhorses for the surface?” Eve was shaking with anger and laid straight into Dr. Quinn without even asking permission to speak. “Have we learned nothing from hundreds of years of history proving that dividing people like this does NOT work?”

  Dr. Quinn looked surprised at the interruption but kept his cool which only incited Eve more. “My dear, I can see you are angry, but did you not just hear the last proposal that passed? We all need to make sacrifices for the survival of our city.” The Auroras were shocked. Was it possible that the council suggested the first proposal only to serve as a springboard into the second? Surely not... that would just plain be wrong. They must have had a legitimate reason for proposing population control. The Auroreans, to include Kimber, did not know what to think or to believe.

  “I heard it,” Eve hissed. “But we have no representation here and you are slowly striping away every single one of our rights. You have muted our mothers and are slowly muting us. We are not animals! We are not goats to be counted numerically. We are people and we have rights and so do our mothers. We love this city and we love every one of our human sisters and brothers in the city. Do you hear me?” She was trying to be spiteful and clever, but her anger was only succeeding in giving Dr. Quinn the upper hand.

  Dr. Quinn continued the conversation in his calm, deliberate manner. It was exactly how Kimber’s mother had taught Kimber how to argue. “Have we not provided you with everything you need? Do you get enough food, clean water, shelter, and specialized training? Please tell me if you have been mistreated, and I will fix it myself. I understand... it is Eve, right? I understand, Eve, that topics like this are difficult to discuss, but we are not talking about what is comfortable. We are talking about life and death. We gave you life, we gave you special abilities, and now we are asking that you sacrifice just a little for the good of our two races.”

  Man, he was slick, Kimber thought to herself disgustedly. He was clearly trained. Sliding the other person’s name into the argument like that was another very effective tactic; it gave you credibility, while naturally derailing and softening up your opponent.

  “If you would, please sit down like all the other citizens,” Quinn gestured around the room, “and let your voice be heard through vote.” Everyone was staring at Eve, her lime green body shaking in the flickering light. She looked dangerous, as if she were ready to lash out, and everyone looked uneasy. Raquel was next to her and pulled her down gently, standing up herself. She was much more composed and politely introduced herself.

  “My name is Raquel. We understand what sacrifice means and how important it is to survival. We also understand the importance of fair representation and equality. If we are members of this society, mature enough to help carry the weight of Inanna’s survival on our shoulders, then we are mature enough to be represented on the council.”

  “Well, Raquel, that is a particularly challenging demand. Those of us on the council now built this city with our own two hands. Once we depart this world, the only way to get on the council is to become a master of a sector and be voted in after years of obedient service. This takes decades to do. Wisdom takes time. Leadership takes time. What you and your friends want are immediate answers to extremely complex problems. Perhaps in ten years we can revisit this request and see if it has more merit.” There was a hint of amusement in his steady serene voice.

  Raquel was starting to lose her cool now too. “Ten years! Ten years without representation? That is absurd, can you honestly not see how unjust that is?”

  Dr. Quinn’s voice iced over. “Unjust? Young lady, you cannot even begin to understand the meaning of injustice. You were not alive twenty years ago to learn what unjust means. I pity, but do not blame, your generation for your lack of perception. Injustice, my dear, is abandoning your family to burn, knowing that the only thing you can do to help, is to try to raise a city that will survive beyond a measly couple of decades. Injustice is years of torment, not knowing whether the toil of trying to ensure humanity’s survival will be fruitful or not. What is unjust, is a handful of ungrateful teenagers fighting to be heard at the dinner table. Sacrifice, young Raquel, is bigger than any of our immediate wants.”

  “Sacrifice is wisdom. Sacrifice is learned. Please sit back down and use your time to gain the wisdom necessary to lead, if that is what you actually desire. And since I am a man of my word, we can then revisit these requests once you, and your fellow Auroreans, have had time to outgrow petty objection.” Quinn paused to frost the chamber with his icy glare as Raquel sat down, slightly shaking. His voice was sharp. “I ask again, all in favor of proposal two of the year 2209?” He looked around challengingly.

  Dr. Quinn dutifully put his own hand up. Behind him, the other councilmen did as well. Following the council, the senior masters slowly raised their hands. On the opposite side of the stage, the Mothers remain motionless. The entire cavern stared at them, then back at the Auroreans, and back again to the Mothers, their eyes full of questions. Silently, the Mothers continued their protest. The Auroras too stayed frozen in sadness and disgust. One by one, hands went up all over the cavern. Kimber’s eyes welled up as she looked around at all the fear and confusion. She could not see Caleb from where she was sitting, but she could feel his heart breaking along with her own.

  “Proposal two of the year 2209 passes; it is now law.” Dr. Quinn declared the new ruling swiftly and assuredly, as if he were a judge speaking out to the masses. Kimber’s eyes shut and she tried to steady her breathing. This thing was not over yet and then the Auroras would hold their own meeting to decide what to do.

  “Now that that is settled, we must move onto to other pressing topics. Please remember that any issue with current law can be brought up to the council before the next yearly address through the proper channels. I must also ask that every citizen respects the rights of every other citizen in the audience and refrain from further interruption.” Dr. Quinn scanned the crowd, his eyes lingering on the section that could now be better characterized by lethal anger instead of awesome beauty. The Auroras did not say anything, continuing to kneel in muted bewilderment.

  “I apologize, Inanna, that this next proposal also only pertains to a select few of you. But it seems that our friends, the Auroreans, are getting
a little out of hand, as you can see today. I assure you that if we can all work together, we can stop the damage and continue to live in harmony and hope. Due to an alarmingly high rate of illness amongst the Mothers, it seems logical to assume the Auroreans and the Mothers have been in contact, despite the contact ban put in place five years ago.” Quinn’s eyes became colder, and his gaze swept from the Auroreans to the humans.

  “Though it was an official decree, the ban was not law. That was a mistake on our part. We assumed that the Auroreans would honor any decree that would keep their loved ones safe from radiation contamination. Apparently, this was not the case. We understand the love between a mother and child and regret the need to propose punishment to those who violate the rules. The safety and welfare of our citizens is however, of paramount concern.”

  “It is with a heavy heart that I must issue proposal three of the year 2209: in order to protect the health of the citizens of Inanna, suspected violators of the contact ban will be tried before the enforcement division. They, of course, will remain innocent until proven guilty.”

  Dr. Quinn put his hand up and so followed the council. The senior masters hesitated, thinking the proposal over. If the contact ban had been established five years ago to protect the Mothers, and subsequently had been violated which caused injury, perhaps the only way to enforce the rule was to hold the perpetrators accountable. Kimber’s face drained as the senior masters slowly put their hands up... all but Dr. Diana-Mae.

  The Auroras knew that the citizens of the city relied heavily upon the opinions of the senior masters. They were the ones looked to for wisdom and guidance, especially in times of uncertainty with the council and with the Mothers. With four of the five hands raised, the fate of the proposal was sealed. The Auroras were stealing uneasy glances in Kimber’s direction. It was no secret that she and her mother had been close and had remained so after the ban. What a trial would entail, no one knew, but they did know who would be first on the chopping block.