Hella

by David Gerrold

  “Cord—” she began, but then stopped herself that way that she does when she’s rethinking what she’s about to say. “I know you think you’re doing right, but what if you’re wrong? What if he can’t handle it. You know how he gets when he hits the wall—”

  There was silence for a moment, then Captain Skyler spoke in a much lower, much softer voice. I had to strain to hear. Fortunately, the noise is good at clarifying. “Sweetheart, listen to me. He’s going through puberty. Frustration is normal. Learning to deal with it is normal. Look at me. He’s almost a man. You have to think about his future. That’s why this has to be done now. Before it’s too late.”

  She hesitated. “Yes, I know. I understand. But he really pissed off Councilor Layton. You know how he’ll use that. And if the Self-Sufficiency Resolution passes—”

  “It won’t. At least, I think it won’t. It’s insane. But if it does, I want Kyle to have a priori status.”

  It took me a minute to figure it out, what they weren’t saying. Marley’s dad, Councilor Layton, wanted to create a law that everybody in the colony had to be self-sufficient. No freeloaders. No dead weight. He said that collectivism destroyed economies because it destroyed incentive. It kinda made sense—why should the people who work have to support lazy people who didn’t want to work? But as soon as you started thinking about how it might work for real, it didn’t make any sense at all.

  Because what about people who are sick or injured? How do you decide what constitutes self-sufficiency anyway? What about someone so badly injured in the Big Break-In they’re unable to work now? Or what about the people who helped build the colony in the first place, but now they’re too old to work? Like the First Hundred? Aren’t they entitled to live? Or do we have to push them out the gate and leave them to die? How would this rule make us a better people?

  There’s a book about politics we studied in school. It’s all about how to run a government. It says that the most important question to ask before you introduce any new law is this: What problem will this law will solve? Who does it make life better for? If it doesn’t help everyone, it’s a bad law.

  Mom says that a lot of politics isn’t about what you see. It’s about what you don’t see. I guess she’s right, because I don’t see the sense in any of this. Everybody I know works at least twenty-six hours a day, usually more. Is there anybody who isn’t exhausted by second supper? So what’s the point of Councilor Layton’s proposal? What does it accomplish? And why was the Captain talking to Mom this way?

  And one more thing. Did he just call my mother “sweetheart”?

  * * *

  —

  Later, when Jamie woke up, I sat on the foot of his bed, cross-legged, and we shared avocado-bacon sandwiches. We didn’t have bacon often, the tanks weren’t producing enough of it yet for it to be anything but a luxury, but I wanted to do something nice for Jamie because I knew he felt bad about not being able to go on the mission. But Jamie shook that off and said we should celebrate my first ride-along and my first time as a driver, even though I hadn’t done any actual driving, just watching.

  I told him about what Councilor Layton said, and how angry I got and what I said to him. Jamie said that the recording was already online. Emily-Faith had sent him a copy.

  “Did I do wrong?”

  “Well, there’s wrong and there’s politics. What you said wasn’t wrong, but it wasn’t politic.”

  “Is that like nuance?”

  “Uh, yeah. Kinda.”

  I don’t listen the same way other people do—I listen literally. I hear the words. But Jamie says I don’t hear nuance—what’s under the words, where people are coming from and where they’re trying to go. He says that probably makes life simpler for me in some ways, but harder in others. He says I shouldn’t worry about it. “You’re smarter than any ten of them put together and that makes you worth twenty of them. Just be good at what you do, Kyle, that’s all that matters.”

  But that’s why some people think I don’t have emotions. They’re wrong. I do have emotions. But most people don’t understand what emotions really are. Or maybe they just don’t think about what they’re experiencing. Emotions are physical reactions. All emotions are variations on Yipes or Goody. This is because the mammalian nervous system evolved concurrent with the internal organs. So emotions are experienced physically. Fear is in the gut—it’s a fight or flight thing. Anger is in the heart and chest, a surge of adrenaline. Happiness is a flood of endorphins.

  I have emotions. Yipes and Goodies. I have the same physical reactions as everyone else. I just don’t express them the same way. That’s because of my chip. It modulates. It moderates. It does something. It’s supposed to keep me rational—which is the polite way of saying that it’s there to modify my behavior. I don’t know. I do know I have a lot less Yipe in my life now and a lot more Goody, so that’s something.

  Because I don’t react the way they think I should, some people think I don’t understand their feelings. But I do. I just don’t understand them like they do. Mom and Jamie are good at it, so I use them as role models for how to behave, when I can remember to do it. I ask myself, “What would Mom say? What would Jamie say?” And sometimes, I even ask, “What would the Captain say?” I don’t always get it right, but I’m doing better than I used to. It’s called nuance. I’m working on it.

  Anyway.

  Jamie and I sat and ate our sandwiches and talked about all the things we talk about. I like being with Jamie. Jamie is the very best kind of brother. He always has time to listen. Jamie says he’s fascinated by how my mind works. He says I’m like a little machine that’s learning how to be human. He says the way I think is special. The way he says it, it’s a good thing.

  Jamie was the first to figure out that I was different. When I was little, I’d stand in my playpen and watch everyone. Jamie would turn to me and wave and say hi and make faces. Jamie says that most babies smile and laugh when you wave at them or say their name, but I wouldn’t smile, I wouldn’t laugh. So Jamie told Mom, “There’s something different about our baby.” Not wrong. Different. That’s how I know Jamie loves me. He knows it’s okay to be different.

  I asked Jamie about the things I’d overheard Mom and the Captain talking about, and he looked sad. I think it was sadness, but he could have been frowning too. He took a long time before he answered. He said, “Well, it’s complicated.”

  “I’m not stupid.”

  “I know that. You have a special kind of smart.” He reached as far as he could without bending his leg and patted me on the knee. Jamie is the only one who can touch me. I won’t let anyone else.

  I asked, “So do you understand what they were talking about? Is this about the Cascade? Does Marley’s dad think the new colonists aren’t coming here to work?”

  Jamie shrugged. He said, “Okay, I’ll try to explain. Only first you have to tell me something. What did you notice today? Did you notice anything interesting about dinosaur poop?”

  I shrugged back. “The carnivores’ poop is wet and stinky. The herbivores’ poop is dry and full of grass.”

  “Yeah, the herbivores don’t digest cellulose very well. Even though they have all kinds of bacteria in their gut to help them, they still poop a lot of fiber.”

  “So what does that have to do with Mom and the Captain? And everything they were talking about?”

  “Well, it’s like all that poop. It’s mostly crap and there’s a lot of different things in it holding all that crap together.”

  We both laughed. Any joke with crap in it is a good one.

  “Okay, it’s not about self-sufficiency, kiddo. That’s just one little piece of a much bigger pile of crap. There are a lot of other ugly pieces in that pile too. There’s a Genetic Protection Resolution. That one’s about not letting certain reproductive combinations into the colony’s very limited gene pool. Strictly enforced genetic man
agement so we don’t get congenital birth defects. Like dwarfism and cleft palate and Down syndrome, for example.”

  “And people like me?”

  Jamie didn’t hesitate. “Uh-huh. That’s in there too. There’s a whole list of things. That’s one of them.”

  “So how would that work? What does ‘strictly enforced’ mean?”

  “Sterilization, probably. Abortion, certainly.”

  “Abortion?” I didn’t know the word. I had to look for it in the noise. It was very complicated. It took me a minute to figure it out. “So . . . if they had their way, I wouldn’t have been born? Mom wouldn’t have been allowed?”

  “Yeah, you wouldn’t have been born. They’d have stopped you.”

  “But that’s not fair! I’m good, Jamie. Aren’t I? Aren’t I?”

  Jamie looked worried. I think it was a worried look. Maybe it was an angry look. I wasn’t sure.

  “Kyle,” he said. “You’re my best friend in the whole world. I love you. Mom loves you. And I wouldn’t want you to be any other way than you are, because you make me smile.”

  “Well, then why—why?”

  “They say it’s for the good of the colony’s genetic heritage. It’s part of their whole ‘Mission to the Future’ plan.” He put his hand on my knee again, this time he left it there. “But I don’t think you need to worry about it yet. It has to pass two separate votes. This year and next. If the Captain can delay the referendum until after the colonists from the Cascade download . . . well, I think he hopes that they’ll bring a sufficient margin of votes to guarantee a defeat. Nobody knows.”

  “But what if it passes? What if it becomes a rule? Then what? They’ll want to sterilize me, won’t they?”

  “I don’t know, Kyle. But I don’t think you should worry about it right now. I mean—it hasn’t even been put on the ballot yet. Nobody’s moved to bring it to a vote.”

  “But they could! Marley would do it. She hates me. I know what sterilization is. I’m not going to have an operation. I’m not. Nobody’s going to change me unless I want to change. I’ll go live with the exiles if I have to.”

  “Nobody’s going to change you. And there aren’t any exiles, that’s just a fairy story.”

  “Then I’ll go live with the fairies.”

  Jamie smiled his crooked smile. He squeezed my knee. “I’ll tell you what. If anything like that happens, we’ll both go. I’m sure Auntie Uncle and his red-haired boyfriend will make room for us. We’ll just have to find them, right? But I don’t think we’ll have to worry about that for now. And not for a long while.”

  “Okay,” I said. If Jamie said something was all right, then everything was all right. He never lied. “Oh. I just remembered something.”

  “What?”

  “Captain Skyler. He called Mom ‘sweetheart.’”

  “He did?”

  “Uh-huh. I heard it myself.”

  “Wow.” Jamie’s mouth made a perfect little O.

  “What did he mean by that?”

  “It means . . .” Jamie said quietly, “ . . . that he cares for her. A lot.”

  “Is he going to marry her? Would that make him our dad?”

  “I don’t know, kiddo. How about we keep this to ourselves for a while and give Mom a chance to make up her own mind? Okay? Stinky promise?” He licked his middle finger and held it out.

  “Okay. Stinky promise.” I licked my finger too and hooked it with his.

  * * *

  —

  The next day, after first work shift, there was a meeting of the Personnel Management Committee. Marley and her dad were there. Mom and I were there, and Jamie hobbled in on crutches. A few other parents sat in the back. Mom had submitted video records of Marley’s bullying, and the three-member committee had reviewed them all.

  I turned on the noise so I could understand faster.

  The head of the committee was one of the First Hundred. Commander Moses Yalel Nazzir, co-pilot of the first landing. He was seventy years old. Hella-years. He was thin and brown and shiny and he had a fluffy halo of silvery hair. He was everybody’s honorary grampa. But today, he didn’t look happy. Neither did the two other committee members. Lady Pershing was brushing imaginary crumbs off her shelf-like bosom with an annoyed frown, and Doctor Gomez’s famous smile had vanished beneath his bushy mustache.

  “We have a lot on the agenda today,” Commander Nazzir began. “And I know that many of you are impatient to be heard.” He took a breath. “But before we can get into any of that, there’s this other matter that has come up that we have to handle first.” He glanced at me, then looked sternly to Marley and her dad. “You wanted this fast-tracked? All right, your request is granted. But I don’t think you’re going to like where this track goes.”

  He picked up his pad and tapped at its display until he found the page he wanted. He studied it for a long moment. I was sure he already knew what was on it and was hesitating on purpose. I don’t know why people do that. Maybe it’s because they don’t want to do whatever it is they have to do anyway. I don’t know.

  “So,” he finally said. “Let me preface this with a little bit of context. This isn’t about guilt or innocence, because this isn’t a trial. So the usual courtroom procedures can be dispensed with. We’re going to treat this as a breach of appropriate conduct. A serious breach. Are there any objections?”

  I looked to Mom, but she just leaned in and whispered, “Shh.”

  Commander Nazzir said, “All right. If there are no objections, we’re going to go directly to our judgment in this matter. I and the other members of the Personnel Committee are very troubled by what we see in these records.” Now he looked directly at Marley. “This represents a very ugly pattern of behavior. It suggests that either you’re very stupid or you just don’t care. And if you just don’t care, then you really are stupid. No, do not speak. We are not interested in what you have to say. There is no mitigation possible here.”

  The Councilor stood up. “Sir, I object—”

  “You may object all you want, Councilor Layton, but I am doing you and your daughter a favor. Any attempt to justify or excuse or rationalize or explain away the pattern of behavior in these records could very well work against you. It would show up as an attempt to evade responsibility. Is it your intention to prejudice this committee even further?”

  The Councilor sat down.

  Commander Nazzir focused on Marley now. His voice was low, but intense. “Mz. Layton. Personally, I am appalled. What you have been doing, young woman, is disrespectful to others. That you have gotten away with it for so long is even more appalling. You have abused those who would be your teammates. Such behavior is counterproductive and hurts the well-being of the colony. To be blunt, it is unacceptable for any member of this community to act with such deliberate intention to cause harm to others. And no, the position of your parent on the Council does not grant you any degree of immunity from the consequences of your behavior. If anything, your abuse of such presumed privilege demands even graver consequences.”

  He turned away from her then and spoke to the rest of the room in his official voice. “It is the decision of this committee that Marley Layton will perform five hundred hours of community service. Until this service is completed, Marley Layton will not be allowed to participate in any group activities. Marley Layton will be denied use of all public meeting places, including the pool, the gym, the theater, the cafeteria, the quad, the playing fields, and the open market. In addition, Marley Layton will at all times keep a distance of fifty meters from the following people . . . .” He started with me and my brother and my mom, then went on to list a half-dozen other families.

  Commander Nazzir finished the list, then turned back to Marley and said, “In addition to this, you will be denied all opportunities for advancement and certification until such time as the Personnel Committee reviews
your behavior again. You will report to a Management Officer twice a day—or more if they require. Do you have any questions?”

  Marley shook her head.

  “It is the further decision of this committee that you and all of your live-in parents will be required to complete one hundred hours of family counseling. It is apparent that there are serious issues at play here—issues between you and your father that perhaps may be at the root of your behavior. These issues must be resolved. No other petition from either you or your parents will be heard by this committee or any other management group until the completion of your assigned counseling.”

  Marley muttered something, a little too loudly. “All this because I dumped a cafeteria tray on a stupid retard—?”

  “No!” Commander Nazzir slammed his hand down hard on the table. It sounded like an explosion. “No! This is not about any single action. It is about the total pattern of your behavior. This is not the first complaint about you that has been brought to this committee. More than once, your father requested a second chance for you and promised to bring your behavior under control. Out of respect for your father, out of a belief that such matters are best handled in a family environment, we deferred any public action. Obviously, that hasn’t worked. We can no longer overlook your antisocial behaviors. One more word out of you, and this committee is prepared to double the terms of your reparation.”

  The Commander looked to the Councilor. “Do you have anything you wish to say?”

  The Councilor shook his head.

  “That’s very wise of you. You made promises to us that were not kept. We hold you equally accountable for your daughter’s behavior. But we also recognize that she is of an age that we used to call ‘teenager’—” He interrupted himself, shaking his head and remarked to the woman sitting next to him, “We really are going to have to find some other terminology that matches the Hellan calendar.” Then he turned back to the room. “We recognize young people of such an age can be unruly, uncontrollable, even rebellious. But while there may be appropriate avenues for such behavior in other societies, unfortunately we do not have the same margin here. This kind of behavior represents a potential for serious and unforgivable damage to the morale of the colony.” He peered over the top of his spectacles. “We all know, Councilor Layton, that you have made the long-term health of this colony your own personal mission. I recommend that you put your own house in order before you proceed with any other agenda. All right, we’re now going to take a fifteen-minute recess and then we’ll hear the certification petitions—”