by E S Richards
His first night in the camp had been dangerous – as a result of these boys. They all had to sleep in the same room, in one long building that ran the length of the camp on one side. After the fire had died down and everyone was supposed to be going to sleep a group of the bigger boys started walking up and down the length of the building.
They pulled smaller boys out of their beds and shouted at them. Asher had been amongst these smaller boys. A rough pair of hands had grabbed him just as he’d lain down and rolled away from the room, facing the wall. They’d thrown him onto the floor and then the boot of his assailant had come crashing down on his shoulder. They had kicked at him until he was on his feet again. Aiming only for parts of his body that would be covered by his clothes, somehow knowing how to not leave any visible marks on him. But that didn’t mean it hadn’t hurt.
Through the night these older boys had bullied and taunted Asher and the others. Their methods had been cruel and calculated, making them perform gruelling tasks or brutal punishments. One boy had his head held underwater in a bucket until his body started to go limp. Then they’d pulled his head out and made him stand on one leg for the rest of the night. Never letting him succumb to sleep or his head would be forced back into the bucket.
Others were made to do physical exercises throughout the night, from push-ups to jumping jacks, sweat dripping off them and dampening the wooden floor. Some they had just hit. Punching and kicking the younger and smaller boys until they curled into a ball on the ground crying.
Asher had hated that first night. He saw it as an omen for what was to come through his time at the mutant camp. It turned out that the nights were actually worse than the days. All the adult mutants made the less developed boys do was work on the crops they grew in the camp. Maintain the buildings, clean the toilet areas. It wasn’t pleasant work but Asher knew he could have survived doing that. If only it hadn’t been for what happened after the fire died down and the boys were left to themselves.
He didn’t understand how cruel boys could be, just because their generation number expected it from them. Even some of the Gen 2 boys tried to join in with the bullying sometimes – the older ones at least – but then, anything was better than being on the other side of it, Asher shuddered as he remembered.
When the day came that they sounded the alarm for a Turning Age Ceremony, Asher knew he would be called upon. Even though he wasn’t yet ten there was something that caused his spine to tingle as the alarm sounded and he just knew it was going to be his day.
The boy who had gone before him was much stronger than Asher. Even though he didn’t have a ranking yet and had been picked on by the older boys on the first night everyone knew he would receive a decent number. When the boys had pulled him out of bed on that first night he had been the only one to fight back. They didn’t pick on him after that, but they hadn’t let him join in either, not yet anyway.
Sure enough he received his scanning and the mutant holding the Identifier announced he was a Gen 3. Most of the boys surrounding Asher cheered at the result. Asher himself swallowed, knowing he would be called upon next.
As he walked up to the Identifier every part of Asher’s body willed him to be a Gen 1. He had already discovered there were no Zero’s in the camp and had heard rumours about what happened to them. As he stood in front of the Gen 4 mutant holding the Identifier he repeated the words Gen 1 to himself over and over, somehow hoping that if he believed it would happen the Identifier would make it so. When his Zero status was recorded though, Asher knew it had been coming.
All his life he had felt like a Zero. Not that he didn’t think he was talented at things, or that he lacked any skills but there had always been a little voice inside of him saying he was a Zero. That day when he’d learnt the truth he had already accepted it. He had lost all his family already and there was no future for him in the mutant camp. At that moment Asher was ready to die – a feeling no ten year old should ever have to admit to themselves.
Then, when Zahyra appeared in the forest and killed the mutant who had been assigned to kill him suddenly everything changed for Asher. Just to see Zahyra standing in front of him felt surreal. In an instant it felt like he was home. From that moment he had made a promise to himself. That no matter what happened he was going to stay with Zahyra, and together they would be safe. They would be all the family either of them needed.
Cain had been a welcome addition to that family and Asher had quickly warmed to him, even after the incident outside the scout hut. If there was one thing the mutant camp had taught him it was that people chose to live up to their generation number. In everything Cain did Asher saw him fighting against his ranking. Cain didn’t want to be a Gen 4 and that was enough for Asher. In his eyes he was as much a Zero as he was.
Asher felt his chest tighten as he sat on his bed in the safe haven. He missed the way Cain joked around with him and made everything seem like it was going to be okay. The two days he had journeyed to the safe haven with Cain and Zahyra Asher had finally felt like he was where he was supposed to be. He had finally felt like he understood who he was and that he was going to be all right. Now, as he stared at the walls of his room carved out of the mountain face, Asher no longer knew who or what he was.
When Asher had been left in the tiny room after he was declared a Gen 6 he was overwhelmed with confusion and fear. It was like his life had been stripped away from him once again; first with the bus crash and then again with the separation from Zahyra and Cain. He had been comfortable in his Zero status, somehow even more so after learning Zahyra was a Zero too. Now all of a sudden he was a Gen 6. The most powerful and dangerous generation of mutant to date. In that moment those were the last things he felt.
A different man came to get Asher from the room some time later. He had grey hair and a straggly grey beard to match. The uniform he wore was also grey. In fact the only thing about his appearance that wasn’t was the black armband with silver dots he wore on his right arm, exactly where his generation number should be. Asher wondered about this and why the people in the safe haven didn’t display their rankings. In the outside world it was the most important thing, with sleeves torn off clothing just so they could be visible.
The man had a kind face and something about the way he looked made Asher trust him. The skin around his eyes wrinkled in the corners when he smiled, mapping out his face with lines of ageing. There was something comforting about it and Asher didn’t refuse as the man took his hand and led him to the room he was now in.
They’d climbed just one flight of stairs to get there and the man had not let go of Asher’s hand the entire time. He found it a little strange but said nothing, happy for even the slightest bit of human contact. When they’d reached Asher’s room he’d used a strange card to gain entry. Holding it against a panel on the wall, which then produced a green light and the door clicked open.
Asher marvelled at how the mechanics had worked. Already the technology he’d witnessed in the safe haven was far beyond anything he had imagined or even heard about. Zahyra had read books and occasionally told him stories about how everything was in The Before Time; she’d always been more fascinated by it than he was. But even his imagination had never come close to what he had already experienced in such a short time.
The door clicked shut behind Asher and the man and he gestured for Asher to take a seat. He had opted for the chair, while the man perched on the end of the bed. For a long time nothing was said between them, the man watching Asher as he fidgeted nervously in the chair.
Eventually he had introduced himself. His name was Emerson and he was the head scientist within the safe haven. He said his job was to keep everyone within the facility safe and to do that he had to perform experiments. He told Asher that he was a very special boy and that he should be proud of his Gen 6 ranking.
There was something about the way Emerson spoke that made Asher want to believe him. He explained a lot of what went on in the safe haven and the sort of work he did
. Most of it Asher didn’t understand but he listened carefully, feeling soothed by the man’s voice.
As Emerson was nearing the end of his speech he started talking more seriously about Asher and his Gen 6 mutation. He explained that he could formulate a way to change Asher’s mutation back, to make him a Zero again and Asher beamed at the possibility.
Emerson told him that before he could do that however he would have to run some tests on Asher, to fully understand his genetic mutation. Again he explained these to Asher but the scientific words were lost on him and he let out a long yawn.
Emerson smiled, seeing that Asher was exhausted from the events of the day and began to take his leave. He told Asher that some food would be brought to his room shortly and that he would see him again tomorrow. Just as Emerson was finally leaving the room Asher spoke up, breaking his silence that had spanned almost the entire day.
“Will they make me better? Your experiments?” He asked Emerson quietly, who turned back to face him in the doorway. “Then, if I’m a Zero again, will I be able to see my sister?”
Emerson’s face softened as Asher mentioned his sister and he took a step back into the room.
“They will yes,” he nodded, “and you may, yes.”
“Then I’ll do it,” Asher said resolutely, causing Emerson’s face to break out into a smile.
“Wonderful,” he grinned. “I’ll see you in the morning, Asher.”
With that Emerson was gone and he left Asher alone, considering everything that he had told him. Someone arrived shortly after with food like Emerson had said and Asher hungrily devoured the plate. He wasn’t sure what a lot of the food was but it tasted wonderful, Asher unable to remember the last time he’d had a proper meal.
He then climbed into his bed for the first time since his arrival and spent a moment admiring the comfort of the place. He fell asleep quickly but tossed and turned through the night.
His dreams were filled of nightmares of the mutant camp and the torture he had endured there. Zahyra’s face floated around him in his dreams also, constantly moving just out of his reach. When he awoke Asher was covered in a cold sweat, the sheets half strewn over the floor from him kicking about in his sleep.
The plate of food he had scoffed the night before had been replaced with new and different foods. He calculated that he must have slept through the night and this was the morning meal, which again he demolished in seconds. Then the reality of what was going to happen began to sink into his skin. Even despite the conversation with Emerson the evening before Asher still knew very little about the safe haven and everything that went on within it. He longed for his sister, so he could wrap his arms around her and be reassured that everything was going to be okay.
He stroked the soft fabric of the bed sheets with his hand and stared blankly at the wall in front of him, considering what was going to happen.
Chapter 9
“Asher my boy! How are you this morning?”
Emerson’s face appeared suddenly in Asher’s room as he let himself in with a swift rap on the door. Asher had been expecting the man but his unapologetic appearance still startled him slightly. He edged off the bed so he was standing by Emerson’s side and looked up at him, his face a mixture of worry and excitement.
Getting to experience more of the safe haven was appealing to him, but he was erring on the side of caution with what he would discover. Emerson had given very little – very confusing – detail about what sort of tests Asher would have to undergo in order to rid him of his new Gen 6 status. He didn’t like how it made him feel, thinking of himself as an advanced mutant, so he had agreed to it. Now the morning had arrived though his stomach was a pit of nerves.
“No need to worry,” Emerson smiled down at him, sensing his uncomfort, “today is going to be very simple. Just some routine tests. Ready?”
Asher nodded slowly at the question and bent down to tie up his shoes. They were still caked in dirt from trekking through the forest, his clothes also bearing a similar combination of mud and sweat. Emerson wrinkled his nose slightly as he took in Asher’s appearance and shook his head.
“We can’t have you running around the facility like that now, can we? Did no one show you how to use the shower?”
Asher looked at Emerson quizzically, not understanding what the man was talking about. Emerson shook his head again and walked into the room that joined Asher’s bedroom. He’d used it last night to relieve himself but hadn’t understood how to use anything in there, leaving the other apparatus untouched.
Emerson explained to Asher how to use the shower, and pointed out some clean clothes that had been left in the locker in the bedroom. He then scooped up Asher’s empty plate from the ground and walked out of the room, telling Asher he’d be back shortly to collect him once he was ready.
Asher gaped at the running water once Emerson had closed the door behind him. He reached out to it with his hand and his eyes grew wide as he felt the heat coming off the water, soon the whole room began to fill up with steam. Asher slid off his half-laced shoes and removed the rest of his clothing. It really did smell, he thought, only noticing once it was piled up in the corner of the room.
He slowly stepped into the shower, recoiling slightly as the powerful jet of water struck his chest. After a moment though he relaxed, closing his eyes and letting the build up from the last two weeks wash off him, both physically and slightly on a mental level as well.
He used the liquid Emerson had pointed out to clean himself, playing childishly with the bubbles it created. It was amazing how something so simple as washing yourself could be so different depending on where you were, he thought, reminiscing of the cold baths his mother had made him take back at their camp.
When his mind wandered to his mother and old camp Asher shivered, despite the heat of the water. Even with all this new technology and comfort as he stood under the running water he knew he would trade it all to be back home in their camp.
He missed his mother’s face. It had now been so long since he’d seen her, hurriedly pushing himself and Zahyra onto the bus that had meant to bring them here. Asher realised he never asked how his mother was going to get to them, the atmosphere of that evening not leaving much time for planning or lengthy goodbyes.
Eventually Asher dragged himself out of the shower and dried himself off. Moving over towards the locker in the bedroom he found some grey pants, similar to those that Emerson had been wearing and pulled them on. Soft canvas shoes accompanied them, with a black long sleeved top. Normally Asher wore vests, but having his branding out on show in the safe haven made him feel uncomfortable somehow. Zahyra had always covered hers up and even though it had technically been a false branding, he now understood why in some sense.
Dressed and ready Asher was now feeling more confident about the day ahead of him. It was incredible how much of a difference washing himself had made to his moral and he stared at the door to his room for a moment, willing Emerson to appear.
After a few minutes Asher grew impatient and turned the door handle himself, tugging on it to open. To his surprise he found it locked and retreated a few steps from the entrance way as a result. Why would the people here want to keep him locked in his room? As if someone had heard his thought the door rattled and Emerson pulled it open from the other side. He smiled at Asher, noting that he was dressed in clean clothes and held the door open for him to walk through.
“Why was it locked?” Asher asked him as he stepped out into the hallway. Emerson paused for a moment, considering Asher.
“Was it? Oh dear. That’s not supposed to happen, maybe it’s faulty. I’ll get someone to have a look at it. Shall we go?”
Asher frowned at the man, hearing a different tone of voice than the one he was used to. If the safe haven had locked the door for a reason, Asher wanted to know and he got the feeling Emerson’s story wasn’t the real truth. Still, there remained something about Emerson that Asher liked and he wanted to give the man the benefit of the dou
bt. He followed him back the way they had come yesterday and down one flight of stairs. The corridor they reached at the bottom Asher thought was the one he’d been in yesterday as well, but everywhere looked so similar he couldn’t be sure.
As they turned a corner Asher was met with another corridor, but this one definitely looked different. One side was made up of a glass wall, with the rooms on that side all interjoined with glass partitions between them. The other side of the corridor was normal and then there was a large metal door at the other end.
It was the glass room that drew Asher’s attention as he marvelled at all the strange devices inside it. Nothing in there was like anything he’d ever seen before, each time he turned his head he found something more amazing than the last.
Of course, he didn’t understand what anything was for or what anything did, but just the design of the objects fascinated him. The sleek design and pristine colours, nothing tarnished or damaged in any way. In fact it looked like most of the things had never even been used they were in such good condition.
“This is my lab, Asher,” Emerson said opening his arms wide to indicate to the entire room. There were a few other people in there but no one looked up, all focused on whatever task they were dealing with. “What do you think?”
Asher continued to gape at the technology within the room. He looked up to Emerson who gave him a wink and began moving between the isles and table tops. He walked over to where there was a pipe sticking out of the wall and carried two mugs over towards it. Asher watched as he flipped a lever on the wall and water began to flow out of the pipe. It was just like the shower he had used upstairs only the direction of water more contained. Emerson filled up the two mugs and handed one to Asher, who brought the liquid up to his mouth. It was ice cold, a direct comparison to the water in his room. He drank thirstily; imagining how different life would have been if water was available like this everywhere.
