by S. L. Baum
“Do you remember what it felt like?” I asked as I traced the smaller black circle that had been placed in the center of his Brand, marking him as fertile.
“Not really, my dear girl. Memories fade, you know. I do remember the medical center, all white and sterile. But I don’t remember much more about that day, other than Trainer Alpha and some film that I slept through,” he smiled sheepishly.
“I fell asleep too,” I whispered.
“No more talk of things gone by,” Aspen hushed us. She pulled at the sleeves of her embroidered jacket and adjusted the row of bracelets that adorned her arm, a nervous habit that I’d witnessed whenever she came to visit. She liked her bracelets to be just so and completely covering her Citizen Brand. A glance around the room revealed that she wasn’t alone in her choice of adornment. Stacks of big metal, ribbon, lace, and gemstone bracelets lined the arms of most of the women who had come to visit. But not Lily’s mother; she wore a simple, but beautiful, yellow dress. The sleeves stopped just below her elbows and a single slim gold watch was wrapped around her wrist. The double circles of her Brand were clearly displayed.
Aspen cleared her throat, pulling my attention back to her. “Bluebell, my father is looking forward to seeing you again. You are a fortunate girl to be the grandchild of such an important man. He’s probably the most influential man on The Council, as your father will be someday,” she said, playing with the tips of her multi colored hair.
Her hair was light blonde at the root, but had been dyed a dark blonde a few inches down, then a few inches below that it was light brown, which then became dark brown, then black at the tips. One color faded into the other with seamlessness. The great mass of it was curled and styled to perfection. It must have been the latest trend. Aspen was always altering herself in some way.
“I’m not sure about that,” my father shook his head.
Aspen ran her hands down the front of his jacket, smoothing out invisible wrinkles. She always wanted him to look perfect. “Of course you will be, Jackson. What other option is there?”
He nodded his head, conceding to her words. “Your faith in me is all I need, Aspen. Blue, what new friends did you make yesterday?”
“Let’s see… there was a boy named Fisher and his friend Stone. Lily and I met them right before lunch. And then they introduced us to a few of their friends… River, Ash, Clay and… oh, what was that other one’s name?” I paused trying to pull the name from my memory. “Ridge. Yes, that’s it.”
“That’s six of the seventeen on the first day,” Aspen noted. “I understand that one was put on hold from each group.” Her statement didn’t surprise me; she was always primed with facts.
“Yes, that’s right. Ivy from the girls and someone named Stream from the boys,” I supplied the missing information.
Aspen shook her head in disapproval. “That boy’s father works for our butcher. It’s no surprise that he wasn’t able to produce a respectful child. But Ivy’s mother is my dear friend Georgia. If that girl doesn’t start making better choices then Georgia will lose some standing with society. Poor, dear Georgia. But Jackson and I don’t have to worry about any such nonsense from you, do we, Bluebell?”
“Of course not, Aspen. I know exactly what is expected of me. I would never want to shame you or Father,” I answered.
“You are aware that I exchange messages with Trainer Alpha on a regular basis. She has assured me that your Training is coming along quite nicely.”
“I was not aware, Aspen. But you have never had cause to worry.”
My father put his hands on my shoulders. “Aspen, we have a very capable, caring, and confident child here.”
“And I concur with Concord,” I added, providing more words that began with C to his description.
My father smiled at my silly joke. “Correctly so.”
“We all concur with Concord. Concord Reigns,” Aspen smiled dutifully, vacantly, and without seeing the humor of our words at all. “Bluebell, please remember, as you begin to interact with the young men, that several of them are from influential families. Some of them could be someone with whom we could potentially secure a Marriage Contract for you. Although you are at least a year away from any such decision, and the results of your final test will have some bearing on the choice, you must always present yourself in a manner befitting a family of our, well, our standing in society. You do understand, don’t you?”
“Aspen and I want you to have the best of everything. She, I mean, we want you to conduct yourself accordingly. You’ve always received such good reports. I have no doubts that you’ll breeze through this section of your schooling as well,” my father added.
“The Gala will introduce you to society as my daughter…”
I interrupted Aspen. “I told you, I know what is expected of me. I do, really. There is no cause for worry,” I assured her.
***
Monday’s classes started off the first full day of Incorporation Instruction. I was just happy that there would be no more long lectures to lull me to sleep. I was looking forward to the day, even if our first class was Personal Grooming for a Pleasing Presentation.
Thirty-seven students sat in the room and Trainer Beta stood in front of us. His grey suit with darker vertical pinstripes had a slight metallic sheen to it and his tailor had cut it perfectly to his trim, muscular build. His lapels were wide, his tie was thin, and his shoes were shiny (without a hint of a scuff on them). A small white flower adorned his suit. So, I thought, this must be a Pleasing Presentation.
Trainer Beta’s waxy hair was perfectly combed, not a hint of a stray. What had looked like a porcelain sheen, from my seat in the Main Hall, actually had the appearance of a fine porcelain glaze, from my seat in the middle of the room. Up close, his skin looked even more artificial: perfectly smooth, perfectly colored, perfectly perfect.
“Young men and young women, we are here to discuss the importance of proper grooming and presenting yourself in the style that is befitting your station. Since we do not yet know what occupation or social standing you will be in by the time you have completed your training at the Career Education Center, we will be looking at all facets of society. From Guardians to trainers to tailors to Council members; everyone must look their part and do it well. There is no excuse for slovenly attire or a disheveled appearance. Pride in oneself means pride in the tasks you have been destined to perform for Concord.
“A few months from now, you will no longer be expected to wear your hair a certain way or dress in the same uniform every day. You will suddenly be able to make your own choices and I expect them to be good ones. A first impression, once made, is hard to be undone. You’d do best to make sure you come across in the right manner the first time,” Trainer Beta explained.
“How do we become a fine specimen, such as yourself?” Stone asked.
Trainer Beta smiled and walked around the podium in a slow circle, showing every angle of himself to every student in the room. “It takes diligence, young men and women. You must develop an eye for style, figure out the trends and stay ahead of them, and find the top people in the industry to keep you looking your finest. No, looking THE finest.”
Holly raised her hand. “How do you look so, well, so young?”
Holly had the kind of parents that looked like they’d barely dabbled in the whole beauty treatment thing. Her mom had flawless skin, but she’d allowed the wrinkles to start to gather around her eyes. Holly’s father was aging gracefully as well. But they were aging. It still seemed like such a silly question. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen the other parents on Visitation days.
“The same way everybody else does,” Beta replied. His tone implied that he agreed with my assessment. It was a silly question. “The youth serums can work wonders, if you make sure you are obtaining the right ones. Quality, not price; that is the key. If you are looking for a bargain, your face will look like a bargain. But, young ones, they are not for the youth. They are to obtain youth.”
/> My eyebrows squished together as I tried to decipher his words. “I don’t understand.”
Beta stood in front of the podium and scanned the room. “To quote from the Mandate on Reproductive Health… ‘Though the effects of these treatments are highly desired and envied by those who have yet to achieve them, they should not begin until the fertile have produced their offspring.’ You see, when the serums get into the blood stream, they adversely affect the reproductive system for both men and women. And if a skin serum is taken by a woman while she is pregnant, the unborn child has no chance. He or she will be infertile, forever marked as such. That practice is highly against The Council Mandates.
“If you have been marked infertile then it matters not. You will be able to indulge in all forms of beauty treatments whenever you wish. But no reputable physician will administer the serums without checking your Citizen Brand first. However, there is a black market for everything and the desire to appear youthful wins out over the desire for a child in some cases. Do not let yourselves fall into that trap. If you are discovered, you will be reprimanded, fined, shamed, and maybe even cast out.”
Cast out of what? I wondered. Cast out to where?
We had barely been given a glimpse of the world outside of Training Tech. We exited the grounds so few times each year. Our twice yearly vacations to the beach cottages were the only times that we were able to freely observe people about their daily routines. Of course they were fleeting moments, achieved in a blur of movement from a bus window as we travelled to and from Training Tech. Our Guardians were at our sides, trying to engage us in conversation, to keep us from longing for the world outside.
I had always managed to tune them out though. I tried to absorb and internalize every single snapshot that my eyes could take. Those moments that I observed through the bus window, those were real moments. I imagined that the personal exchanges were quite different from all the approved videos we had access to. I imagined that life outside Training Tech wasn’t as picture perfect as we were led to believe. But then, maybe it was my job to create my own perfection, take my place in society, and fill in the slot that had been made for me… and do it in a proper and pleasing way.
I know that is what Aspen expected of me… my father as well.
Holly’s brother Ash, who was also good friends with Fisher and Stone, raised his hand up high. He waved it back and forth until Beta pointed at him.
“What does it mean to be cast out?” Ash asked the question I had been thinking.
“Being a Citizen of Concord is a privilege,” Beta explained. “If you do not concur with Concord, then you do not belong in Concord. The Council will cast you out and leave you to fend for yourself, far away from the structure and comfort of our society, never to return again. You would lose all contact with family, friends, and proper society. Only the worst possible offenders are cast out. That consequence is far worse than the termination of one’s life.”
“How awful,” Lily breathed.
Beta nodded his head in agreement. “But we digress.” He clapped his hands together. “Our topic is one of Personal Grooming. Let me steer us back onto the correct path of discussion.” He switched on the wall screen and began a slide show of proper and improper fashion and grooming.
***
We sat at the long rectangular table during our lunch hour, again in boy-girl, boy-girl staggered fashion. It was apparent that we were all still wrapped up in the newness of Incorporation. Fisher sat on my right, Stone on my left. Lily was on the other side of Fisher, and Holly on the other side of Stone. Holly’s twin brother Ash sat next to her. Across from us were Petunia, River, Petals, Ridge, Willow, and Clay. Our table was the only one in the room that was filled to capacity with twelve students – six boys and six girls.
“All right… Ready. Set. Go,” Lily said.
We all placed our left hand on the table, palm up, exposing our Citizen Brand.
A full minute of silence followed as each of us looked to our right, to our left, and across the table; craning our necks to look at the circle that had been permanently etched into the flesh of each and every one of us.
Petunia and Petals leaned in toward each other, making their arms touch, crowding River. He leaned back to give them more room.
“They look exactly the same,” they said in unison and sighed in relief.
“What did you expect?” River laughed. “You two are exactly the same.”
“But look,” Petals said, moving her arm closer to River’s. “Yours is slightly larger.”
He nodded. “Yeah, I’m a male. Male brands are larger than female brands.”
“Really?” Willow asked.
“Yes. Really,” Clay answered. “The circumference of mine will measure exactly one-half inch more than yours. Does no one pay attention? They mentioned it in the film on Incorporation day!”
“Bluebell slept through that,” Lily teased.
I raised my right hand. “Guilty!”
“His black doesn’t look as dark as ours either,” Petunia observed.
Clay sighed. “That is because his skin tone is much darker than yours.”
“You’ll have to forgive our friend Clay,” Stone said after he blew out the bubble of air he’d been moving back and forth between his cheeks. “He has a brain built for small details and information, that he keeps neatly filed and organized up there… ready to supply an answer or an explanation at a moment’s notice. He doesn’t quite understand why we don’t all function in the same way.”
Fisher gave a slight nod of his head in agreement. “We still let him hang out with us though.”
“Oh thanks, guys,” Clay smirked. “You wouldn’t have passed a class without me.”
Ridge laughed. “Yeah, that might be the actual reason. He saved me from almost having to repeat Mathematical Practices in Year Ten.”
“Me too,” Ash admitted.
“Might be mutually beneficial, our friendship,” Fisher smiled.
Clay laughed. “Might be.”
“Everyone lean forward and scootch in,” Holly commanded. “I want to see them all close together.”
The four people on the ends of the table (Lily, Ash, Petunia, and Clay) had to stand up and lean in, but we got all twelve of our arms lined up, skin touching, with all of our brands in a neat row across the table.
“That’s exceedingly, awe inspiringly wow!” Holly exclaimed at the sight.
“They are arms.” Clay shook his head.
“Hush up!” Willow commanded. “Just let her have her moment.”
“In a few months these will all look different,” Ridge remarked.
“An O or an X?” Lily wondered aloud.
“Statistically speaking, at this table, there will be 1.2 males with an X and 2.4 females with an X,” Clay supplied an answer.
“I’ll have an O,” Ash stated.
“What makes you so sure?” I asked.
“All the men in my family do. We’re very virile.” He puffed his chest.
“You can’t know that. It just happens sometimes. Childhood illness, a genetic mutation, or even… I don’t know… what if your mother took a serum while she was pregnant?” I countered, remembering what Beta had said that morning.
“Have you seen our mother?” Holly asked. “There’s not a chance. We are safe. She just started them a couple of years ago.”
“If anyone has to worry about that it’s you, Blue,” Willow blurted out.
I hung my head. “Oh my goodness. You are right,” I breathed as the realization hit me.
Aspen used them. That was obvious to anyone. She probably didn’t even care. She probably thought that the family number and the history of our Council standing would secure a Marriage Contract for me, even without fertility. She knew that no 1.15 would ever be a Guardian. The realization that my future Citizen Brand probably didn’t stand a chance against Aspen’s vanity eighteen years ago, hit me in the chest; hard. I slumped in my seat.
Everyone withdre
w their arms and returned to their original position; spreading out again.
“Sorry, Blue. It just kind of came out before I even knew I was saying it,” Willow apologized.
“No, it’s fine.” I attempted a small smile. “You’re right, and we both know it. It’s going to be 2.4 of us, so why shouldn’t I be one of the 2.4?”
“Even an O doesn’t guarantee anything,” Clay said. “There could still be issues that hinder the successful production of offspring.” But he was just trying to make me feel better. I could see it in his eyes.
It was better if I didn’t try to defy the expectations. I was expected to be a good student. I was expected to never bring shame to the family of 1.15. I was expected to Concur with Concord. And I was expected to bear the brand of the infertile.
I’m sure my mother and father would secure a respectable Marriage Contract for me with someone I liked. And I could adopt a child or use a surrogate mother if I had to.
I lifted my head high and smiled. “I want a cookie. I’m going back to the line to see if they have any carrot spice ones left. Does anybody else want one?” I asked, because I was expected to.
Chapter Four
Tests
“It’s been three months of testing, Lily. I can’t take it anymore,” I whined. “I don’t want to see another classroom or another medical center again, as long as I live!”
“Blue, get up and get over it!” Lily commanded.
I had just slumped down onto the floor in the hallway between classes. We’d been in Incorporation for a little over three months and I was losing all my energy. The daily classes, and personality tests, and medical tests, and future occupation tests, and… it all made me want to pull my hair out; one single strand at a time. Actually, no, that would have taken too long and I just wanted the next couple of months to pass by as quickly as possible.
“I am over it! That is the problem. And I am so tired.” I yawned for emphasis.
