The Wipe

by Nik Abnett

  Dharma had no idea about marriage, but she was shocked that children who should still be downloading school could be married.

  She closed the screen. This would take some thinking about.

  To apply for parenthood in the New Wave, women had to be thirty years old, and had to have completed at least ten years in the workforce. Most women didn’t finish their educations until they were at least twenty; generally twenty-one-or-two was the minimum for a full education up to a first degree. Some women opted to take higher qualifications, as Dharma had. She’d been twenty-five before she’d gone to work, and at thirty-five she only just qualified to have a child. She had no intentions of doing so yet. She still felt young to be a mother. Her own mother hadn’t had Dharma until she was forty-two, and that wasn’t considered too old. Most women had only one child, but, depending on the birthrate and the balance of the population in the gender-split, some had a second. After the age of forty-five, women had to undergo rigorous health checks, so the window of opportunity was limited.

  Her grandmother, Verity Tuke, gave birth while she was still in her twenties. That could never happen now. She’d been married at twenty-two and Constance had been born within a fortnight of Verity’s twenty-third birthday.

  It took a lot for Dharma to wrap her mind around all of that. The Deluge had happened years ago. Generations had been born since, who had no connection with the event that had changed the World.

  They thought nothing of it. They lived their lives according to the New Wave laws and way of life. It was second nature.

  Dharma knew, everyone knew, that things had changed. The Deluge was part of the compulsory history program, but knowing that something had happened and understanding it were two very different things. Besides, the World had been described as a terrible, corrupt, rotting place before the Deluge. The Pandemic had killed a lot of people, but Dharma had learned that it had saved a lot of souls, including her own.

  A hundred years before the Deluge there had been a World War. Dharma had taken an optional school download about that, too, but it felt like a story to her. Surely all those terrible things, the war and the holocaust, couldn’t possibly have happened the way the school download had described. The people who had been part of it seemed alien beings to Dharma. People could never do such terrible things now, surely. People would never be allowed to commit such atrocities. It couldn’t happen under the New Wave regime.

  Time and distance had felt like small, finite things to Dharma, until she began her search for a relation. Time was a day in the cubicle or, at most, the duration of a work project. Distance was the short walk to work or, at most, the three mile jogs she took at the weekend.

  Time was the duration of her own life, and the duration of her mother’s life, but even Constance hadn’t been able to tell Dharma much about what the Deluge had really been like, how people’s lives had really changed. She’d been born at the end of it, and, by the time she could walk and talk the New Wave had begun. She didn’t even remember the changes in her own young life. All she had were her grandmother’s stories, and, by the time her mother was telling them to Dharma they were already half a century old.

  Dharma’s analytical mind told her that unrecorded data like stories, told and retold, must change with time. Elements of the story must be forgotten or exaggerated. No domestic records were in the public domain. There were no diaries or letters. There was only what had been passed verbally from Verity to Constance and then on to Dharma.

  The Deluge was open for academic study, mostly of a scientific nature. Personal records of the survivors were not in the public domain, and would not be until a century after the event. Dharma could not wait another twenty-plus years to delve into the domestic lives of people who were long-dead.

  Dharma wanted to make a connection, now. More than that, she wanted to make a connection in the present. The past was a strange and dangerous place. All that mattered was today, and tomorrow, and next month. All that mattered was the time that it would take for Dharma to complete her project and find a genetic connection to a living woman.

  Dharma walked through the wipe and into the bathroom to wash and change for her jog. Perhaps it would settle her mind, but she decided to take a familiar route rather than see new places or new people. Perhaps today would be the day that she ran to her mother’s last home. She didn’t know what she’d do when she got there, and she knew that it would actually be a six mile jog, because she’d have to turn around and come home again.

  She thought about those six miles between Catford and Bromley on the old map that she’d looked at, and decided that it really wasn’t very far. If she needed to walk the three miles home, she could manage it without any problems.

  Twenty-three

  +Let me know how you are… I’m worried about you+

  +I’m fine, honestly, Charity… I’ve got the rash, but only a little, on my legs. Dad’s covered in it, and he won’t eat+

  +Are you staying away from him, or is it too late for that?+

  +It’s too late. I’ve got symptoms. I think he likes having me close to him, but I know he feels guilty that he’s given me this horrible thing. The past month has been hard on both of us, trying to isolate from each other+

  +I know, Abe. At least, now you can be together more+

  +Dad’s medication might have slowed down the virus, but I don’t think he’s going to get through it+

  +They’re coming up with new drugs all the time+

  +What if I have to be medicated?+

  +You’ll get through it, Abe. You’re young, and you’re strong… I got over it without even knowing that I had it. I know you’ll get better!+

  +That’s the plan. I’m more worried about Dad than me. He was a key worker, and it doesn’t matter what precautions they take, they’re in danger all the time from this thing+

  +I bet your dad’s more worried about you than he is about himself, Able+

  +He is. He keeps making me show him my rash, to make sure it isn’t getting any worse+

  +Is it getting worse? I’m really worried+

  +Don’t worry, Charity, it’s been the same for a couple of days… maybe even less bad… It’s nothing+

  +I didn’t know you’d had it a couple of days… Why didn’t you tell me?+

  +I didn’t want to worry you+

  +Is that why you didn’t text me at the usual time today? Is that why I had to text you?+

  +I was trying to give Dad something to eat, but all he seems to manage is some weak black tea+

  +Please look after yourself. I don’t know how I’d cope without you. And if he doesn’t want them, eat your dad’s rations, you’ll need to keep your strength up!+

  +Anything you say, Charity. I like that you’re worried, but I’m fine… You’ve got your whole family around you, so you’ll be fine, too, whatever happens… Now, let’s talk about something else… Something a bit more cheerful+

  +It’s crazy, here… I wasn’t supposed to tell you, but things are moving along, so I think it’s safe to talk about it now… Besides, you were talking about how I’ve got my whole family around me+

  +Safe to talk about what? Now you’ve got me worried+

  +It’s fine, exciting even. Verity’s going to have a baby, and she’s going to marry Sage+

  +You’re right, that is crazy! Tell her congratulations from me!+

  +I will. Verity’s being a bit sarcastic, but Mum says that’s just the hormones talking. Her and Sage are very loved-up, it’s almost unbearable to watch+

  +You’ve got me… Maybe that’ll be us one of these days… You never know+

  +What are you saying, Able?+

  +The same thing I’m always trying to say to you… I’ve said I’m crazy about you a million times+

  +Maybe not a million… and I quite like you, too+

  +That’s what we always say to each other, though, isn’t it? It might just be because I’ve got this thing, and because Dad’s sick, but I really want you to know that I lov
e you+

  Able’s screen stalled for several seconds.

  +I love you too… I just worry that we’re young, and we can’t see each other+

  +We talk to each other for hours every day… We could hardly be closer+

  +What if you don’t like me in person?+

  +You looked all right to me when we were in school together+

  +I didn’t know you noticed+

  +You’re the sort of girl everyone notices, Charity+

  +I’ll take that as a compliment… But you don’t know that I still look the same way I did then. This thing changes people+

  +The physical is just the physical. I know you better than I know anyone+

  +Even your dad?+

  +I love my dad, but it’s different with parents… They have their own stuff going on… Don’t you feel as if you know me better than anyone?+

  +Yeah, I suppose I do. I know you better than I know my best friend, who isn’t really my best friend any more, because you are… I know you better than Verity, or Mum or Pa. Sage is nice, and he’s almost like a brother, now, but he’s got Verity+

  +The physical thing doesn’t matter then… If we have it one day, that’d be great, but I feel like you’re everything I need+

  +Well remember that, so that you can get well… You have to get well! That way, we can both be immune, and then… Who knows what might happen+

  +I’ll get working on that+

  Able’s screen stalled for a couple of seconds. Then Charity texted again.

  +As far as the physical thing… There is stuff we could do+

  Charity’s screen stalled for a few seconds, and her face began to flush. She couldn’t wait any longer for a text, but she didn’t know what to say.

  +???+

  +Sorry, Charity, I’m here… I just…+

  +Just what?+

  +That would be exciting… wouldn’t it?+

  +I just thought we could maybe talk about what we’d like to do together… you know+

  +Would you do that, Chaz?+

  +I’d like to try, but maybe it’s weird+

  +I don’t think it’s weird at all…+

  +Later, then… Maybe when your dad’s gone to bed+

  +He’s in bed all the time+

  +You know what I mean… Later+

  +Maybe when your dad’s gone to bed… LOL+

  +Yeah… LOL+

  +I love you Charity+

  +You already said that+

  +Well, I’m saying it again+

  +Bye Able… Love you+

  +Bye Charity… Later!+

  Twenty-four

  “Are you taking the supplements we ordered, Verity?”

  “Are you my midwife, Mum?” Verity asked.

  “Looks like it,” said Faith.

  “It does, doesn’t it? I hope that doesn’t mean you’re going to do a lot of poking about and stuff… Bit embarrassing for both of us.”

  “You haven’t got anything I haven’t seen before, hundreds of times.”

  “But this time it’s me.”

  “Then I guess we’d both better get used to it,” said Faith. “But the answer to your question is that, no, I won’t be doing a lot of poking about. I’ll check your pee and take your blood pressure, maybe keep an eye on your weight.”

  “Sounds easy enough,” said Verity, relieved.

  “I’m just happy I’ve got my own kit: blood pressure cuff, urine testing strips… you know?”

  “No, Mum, I don’t really know, but if you’ve got it sorted I’ll leave the worrying to you.”

  “You should tell me if you have any symptoms or sensations you haven’t had before. And I’ve got an old scope somewhere that I can sterilise, so that I can check the baby’s heart-rate, and a tape measure to make sure he’s growing.”

  “How on Earth are you going to measure a baby that’s inside me?”

  “By running a tape from the top of the bump to your pubis.”

  “Okay, that’s too much information. And how can you magically tell that it’s a ‘he’?”

  “There’s no magic in childbirth, and I don’t have an ultrasound kit… Maybe I could get one.”

  “Did mothers and babies survive in a time before ultrasound was invented?” asked Verity. She had a bent for the sarcastic during the first phase of her pregnancy, when she felt unsure about a lot of things and felt nauseous for at least half of her waking hours.

  “I don’t think we need to worry about an ultrasound machine, Mum. Unless you think that things aren’t going well.”

  “So far, so good,” said Faith.

  “Good.”

  “If we’re still in lockdown when it’s time for the birth, how much do you know about all of that?”

  “I’m guessing you know enough for both of us, Mum, but I’m determined to have this baby in a nice, clean hospital, so the Deluge had better be over by then. It should be at least another five months, maybe even six, before the baby comes.”

  “It’s a shame we don’t have more accurate dates,” said Faith, “but it’ll come when it’s ready.”

  “Now my baby’s an ‘it’?”

  “If we got an ultrasound kit, I could tell if it’s a boy or a girl,”

  “No ultrasound kit, Mum. Besides, it could be born one gender and grow into an entirely different gender. The World isn’t binary, you know.”

  “That’s very true. We all get what we’re given. Whoever they turn out to be, I’m sure they’ll be wonderful.”

  “Thanks, Mum,” said Verity, putting her hand on her belly even though there wasn’t really a bump yet, just a thickening of her waist. “We should talk about the wedding. Do you know if Pa’s found anything out?”

  With that, her father walked into the room.

  “Did I hear my name spoken in vain?” he asked, smiling.

  “I was just wondering whether you’d found out anything about the wedding?” said Verity.

  “As a matter of fact I’ve just called Sage in from the garden… I’m sure he’ll finish up afterwards, Faith… I just thought you should hear this together.”

  “So either it’s good news, and you can enjoy it together or it’s bad news and you can console each other,” said Faith.

  “No need to explain,” said Verity. “We all know how Pa’s mind works.”

  “You couldn’t be a little less sarcastic, I suppose?” asked Pa.

  “It’s a phase,” said Faith. “The first trimester… all those hormones whizzing around, and the nausea… Leave her alone.”

  “She could at least try,” said Pa.

  “She’s doing her best,” said Faith.

  “I am, Pa,” said Verity. “Love you.”

  Sage wandered into the living room in his stockinged feet. He’d left Pa’s wellies outside the back door. They were a size too big for him, so he was wearing two pairs of socks, and his jeans were tucked into the top pair.

  “I see why I love you so much,” said Verity. “You’re SO attractive.”

  “It’s just the sarcasm,” said Sage. “She’s not actually having a go at me… This is just her thing right now.” He smiled at Faith and Pa.

  “It seems so,” said Pa.

  “What can I do for you, Pax?”

  “You can sit down, and I’ll tell you what I’ve found out about this wedding.”

  Sage sat, his expression more serious. He seemed braced for disappointment.

  “It turns out that you can get married,” said Pa.

  Sage beamed.

  “You can dress up, and have a wedding breakfast and everything… A proper celebration!”

  “That’s great, Pa, but what’s the downside?” asked Faith.

  “No downside. It’ll just have to be a small wedding.”

  “How small?” asked Faith.

  “Well, when you think about it,” said Pa, “the only people that really matter are you and Sage.”

  “I’m not getting married without my family,” said Verity. “It’s bad enough that Sage’s p
arents can’t be here.”

  “They’re fine with it. They’re just excited to be grandparents.”

  “Great,” said Pa. “Then you’ll be delighted with the current arrangements for Deluge weddings.”

  “Just tell them,” said Faith.

  “You mean, tell you,” said Pa, smiling.

  “My daughter’s getting married, so yes, I’d quite like to know something about the arrangements.”

  “The Registrar’s office in Lewisham is performing remote weddings,” said Pa.

  “What does that mean?” asked Faith.

  “It means marriage by e-mail,” said Verity, still sarcastic.

  “Actually, we set a date,” said Pa, “and we do the wedding live by Zoom, so that we can see the registrar, and she can see us. We’ve already been assigned someone… I took the liberty, because there’s a waiting list of about six weeks… She’s called Harmony Kimmel… Great name for a registrar.”

  “Well, that’s something, at least,” said Faith.

  “We can do it here… Set up in the living room, get dressed up,” said Pa, excited. “We can even have your parents hooked up via Zoom, Sage, so they can see what’s going on.”

  “We’d better make it soon,” said Faith.

  “The baby isn’t due for a while. There’s plenty of time,” said Sage.

  “You’re not crapping out on me, are you?”

  “Of course not, V. I’d marry you tomorrow.”

  “That might be a bit soon for the registrar,” said Pax. “Like I said, we’re looking at closer to six weeks.”

  “Verity,” said her mother. “I just thought you might like to wear my wedding dress. I could make some alterations to it, if it’s not to your taste, but it’s still packed up in the back of the wardrobe. It might be nice for it to see the light of day, one last time.”

  “Do you think it’d fit?” asked Verity.

  “I think so, if we don’t put off the wedding for too long. We could go and try it on if you like, and make the alterations nearer the time.”