The Wipe

by Nik Abnett

  Dharma was learning that people had needed each other during the Deluge. Death did strange things to their relationships. They sought each other out, and coupled-up more readily during the pandemic. She had assumed that the incidence of marriages would go down, since people were dying in their thousands, but she was proven wrong.

  “Statistics: Average age at registered marriage 2040 to 2043. Graphic.”

  Another graph appeared on the screen. The y axis recorded average age, and the x axis was divided up, as before, into quarters of the year.

  In 2040, before the Deluge, the average age at marriage was twenty-nine. It was less than ten years after most people in the New Wave would finish their educations and leave their mothers, but it didn’t seem totally unreasonable to Dharma. They were different times.

  By the end of the period, the average age to get married had dropped to twenty years and eight months.

  Dharma knew that most people under twenty-five had survived the Deluge. It had hit the over 60s the hardest, and had made a huge impact on the mid-life generation in their 40s and 50s. Many of the people in that age bracket had died as a result of contracting the Deluge virus while doing essential work to keep people fed, and to ensure essential services. The medical profession had been hardest hit in the 40 to 60 age group, where death rates had been second only to those in the over 60s.

  Perhaps that was part of it. People were losing their parents younger, so were building new families to compensate.

  Dharma was guessing. She was good with statistics and she was a good data analyst, but discerning the emotional or psychological reasons for people’s actions was incredibly difficult and often counter-intuitive.

  Verity had been about the average age for people marrying in the second and third quarter of 2042. Charity had married younger than the average in 2043, but not outside the statistical range.

  Dharma looked for graphs of birthrates for the same period and was again surprised. More babies were born, as a percentage of the general population, during the Deluge and for two years afterwards.

  It was hard to have and to raise a child. In the New Wave it was an intensely isolating experience, mothers considered extraordinary. They were paid to have and to raise a child. It was their whole life, their whole World. It was one of the reasons she wasn’t ready to have a child of her own. Dharma had been the only witness to her own mother’s life, and didn’t want that for herself.

  She looked at more statistics. The average age of first time mothers plummeted during and directly after the Deluge. It was even lower than the average age of people marrying.

  She quickly realised that Constance had been born only three months after Verity and Sage were married. She knew that human gestation took thirty-nine weeks, from the science school downloads she’d read. She speculated that people had a lot of sex during times of crisis, and the bigger the crisis, and the higher the death toll, the more sex they had. The result was that more babies were born during those periods, many of them outside of marriage.

  Dharma thought back to her history lessons about the Second World War and tried more internet searches. It was harder to find reliable data, because she already knew that record keeping relied on the population to register births, deaths and marriages. It was also a very, very long time ago, so most of the data would be obsolete and therefore expunged from the internet. Dharma pieced together the few bits of data that she was able to find, and her theory appeared to be borne out.

  People married younger during the World War than they did for the rest of the twentieth century. They had children younger, and many of those children were not born inside marriages.

  It had to be about crises, and it had to be about basic human needs during difficult times. During the war, people had formed relationships and had children, and the same thing had happened during the Deluge.

  Dharma was now convinced that the registration of marriage that she had found for Charity Mott was genuine, and that her great-aunt was not so unusual at the time, for marrying very young. The record was of the old type, before the New Wave records were established. Dharma wondered whether there was any chance she might find a birth associated with Charity and Able Dole. It was a long shot, but it didn’t seem impossible.

  Dharma liked a long shot. She liked the outliers in the statistics that she analysed on a daily basis.

  “Birth register for Able Valor Dole, father, and Charity Grace Dole, formerly Mott, mother,” she said into the VR.

  +Data not found. Complete *Field+

  “Show Field.”

  She looked at the screen. “Lewisham,” she said, confidently. She knew that no one had been allowed to move around during and after the Deluge. Most people were on lockdown for months. Some of the restrictions had finally been lifted after the pandemic had burned itself out, but, by then, many people had become used to a new lifestyle and had chosen not to move, even if they were eligible for relocation.

  Dharma hoped that Charity and Able had stayed where they were.

  Thirty-two

  Pax had propped up the computer, so that they could all stand for the ceremony.

  “Nobody in their right mind gets married sitting down,” he’d said. It had made Sage laugh. Charity was holding up a laptop, with a Zoom call to Sage’s parents, who came online a moment after the main computer screen went live.

  Sage laughed again when he realised that the registrar conducting the ceremony was sitting at what looked like her dining table, with a dresser of dishes behind her. At least they were attractive dishes, and Harmony Kimmel was neatly dressed in a smart shirt and business jacket.

  “Oh, you all look lovely,” she said, when the Zoom feed finally went live. “I’ve married people in their pyjamas before now. I won’t feel over-dressed for this one. How glorious.”

  Charity popped out in front of the computer, partly to show the Tukes to the registrar and partly to show the registrar her dress.

  “You look gorgeous, too,” said Harmony Kimmel. “I don’t often get to see a beautiful bridesmaid these days.”

  “She seems nice,” Sage whispered to Verity, standing next to him and holding his hand.

  Verity leaned in, and whispered back, “She could be in her knickers under that table for all we know.”

  They both laughed.

  “I’m sorry,” said Harmony Kimmel. “Is something the matter?”

  “Nothing at all, Ms Kimmel. We’re just happy. That’s all.”

  “You can call me Harmony,” said the registrar. “And I’m happy to be here, too. It all looks so lovely and festive!”

  “Thank you, Harmony,” said Pax, leaning slightly towards the screen, “but I think our time’s limited, so perhaps we should get this wedding underway.”

  “Of course. Let’s begin.

  “We are here today to celebrate the marriage of Sage and Verity. On their behalf, I would like to welcome you all, and thank you for allowing me into your home to perform this celebration. I know it means a great deal to them that you are with them, in person and online, to share in their happiness on this wonderful occasion.

  “Your home at 131 Engleheart Road, Catford, SE6 has been sanctioned according to interim laws for the celebration of this marriage. You are here to witness the joining in matrimony of Sage Valor Tuke and Verity Cornelia Mott. If any person present knows of any lawful impediment to this marriage, they should declare it now.”

  Pax glanced at Charity, who stuck her tongue out at him.

  “I usually ask the bride and groom to stand at this point, but since you’re all already standing, we can move on to the next bit.

  “Before you are joined in matrimony, I must remind you of the solemn and binding character of the vows you are about to make, especially in these difficult times. Marriage, according to the law of the country is the union of two people, voluntarily entered into for life, to the exclusion of all others.

  “The purpose of marriage is that you may always love, care for and support ea
ch other through all the joys and sorrows of life, and I can see that you already have a little joy on the way, but I digress…

  “That love may be fulfilled in a relationship of permanent and continuing commitment. Today, Sage and Verity wish to affirm this commitment in the presence of their families, and offer each other the security that comes from legally binding vows, sincerely made and faithfully kept.

  “Sage, please say the following words after me. ‘I solemnly declare that I know of no lawful reason why I, Sage Valor Tuke, may not be joined in matrimony to Verity Cornelia Mott’.”

  Sage smiled, and said his vows without hesitation.

  Verity looked very seriously at the screen when it came to her turn to respond.

  “I solemnly declare that I know of no lawful reason why I, Verity Cornelia Tuke… I mean Mott, may not be joined in matrimony to Sage Valor Tuke.”

  “I see that you’re taking his name,” said Harmony. “That’s lovely, since you’re having the baby… Sorry, just a bit more.

  “The moment has come for Sage and Verity to contract their marriage before you, their families. Do you have rings?”

  “I have a ring for Verity,” said Sage. “Thank you, Faith.”

  “Oh!” said Verity. “I didn’t know. Thanks, Mum.”

  “It’s the eternity ring your father bought me when you were born.”

  “Thank you, too, Pa,” said Verity.

  “We should probably get on with it,” said Pax, beaming.

  “You’re so adorable,” said Harmony. “Right, Sage, please say the following words after me. ‘I give you this ring as a sign of our marriage, as a token of my love and affection, and as a symbol of our commitment to each other. I call upon our families to witness that I Sage take you Verity to be my lawful wedded wife. I promise to love and care for you, honour and respect you, and share everything I have with you. I look forward to our future together with hope and happiness, and I’ll always remember the feelings we have for each other, today.”

  Sage cleared his throat, took Verity’s hand, and put the ring on her finger. Still holding her hand, he repeated the words and then Verity immediately did the same.

  “Good for you,” said Harmony when Verity finished. “That was almost word-perfect, and I didn’t have to read it out for you.”

  “Does it still count?” asked Verity.

  “Totally. Now, Sage and Verity, you have both made the declarations prescribed by law, and you have made your promises to one another in the presence of your families. Let us hope that this day will form a special memory in your lives to look back on with much love and happiness.

  “Sage and Verity, it gives me great pleasure to declare that you are now legally married.”

  Sage leaned down and kissed Verity. Pax and Charity cheered, and Faith clapped her hands.

  The Tukes also waved and cheered, before their screen blinked out, the connection lost.

  “Well,” said Harmony. “This was really lovely. I’m glad I was able to perform your wedding. I’ll remember it.”

  “Thanks, Harmony,” said Sage, waving at the screen.

  The Zoom meeting closed abruptly, the connection lost.

  “Just in time,” said Pax. “Now all we have to do is sign the online form, but I don’t expect we need Ms Kimmel for that. He reached for the computer while everyone else embraced and kissed each other.

  “Here you go,” he said, offering the touchpad to Sage. Sage wrote on it with his finger, and an approximation of his signature appeared, more-or-less in the correct field on the screen.

  “Now you,” said Pax.

  “You’re really eager to get me married off, aren’t you Pa?” said Verity, smiling as she signed her name on the touchpad.

  “He’s just hungry for cake,” said Charity.

  Verity looked at the screen. “Should I do it again? That looks nothing like my signature, and it’s on the diagonal.”

  “It’s done,” said Pax. He added his signature as a witness.

  “Your turn,” he said, putting the touchpad in front of Charity.

  “Me?”.

  “We thought our other witness should be our only bridesmaid,” said Verity.

  Charity blushed as she wrote her name on the touchpad.

  Pax glanced at Charity’s signature, sent the form, and then shut down the computer.

  Verity kissed Sage, again.

  “I’m glad your mum and dad could see this,” she said. “I’m sorry you didn’t get much time with them.”

  “It’s all good. Mum will no doubt send me a long text about it later.”

  “And more cake for the rest of us,” said Charity.

  “That too,” said Sage. “Now give me a hug, Sis.”

  “Only if you never call me ‘Sis’, ever again,” said Charity, putting her arms around her brother-in-law.

  She realised that she was holding him a little too tightly and for a little too long. She didn’t care. She hugged Verity in the same way, and then both of her parents. They were good hugs.

  “Cake!” said Pax, and they all went through to the kitchen, where Faith had laid on quite a feast.

  “How long have we been going without so that you could hoard all this food?” asked Pax.

  “Only since the engagement was announced,” said Faith. “Hasn’t my garden, sorry, Sage, our garden… Hasn’t our garden fed you well enough?”

  “It has,” said Pax, kissing Faith. “It really has.”

  “We still want cake, though,” said Charity “Cut the cake! Cut the cake!”

  “Well, if you insist,” said Sage.

  Thirty-three

  Con checked his connections as soon as Joy had left for her lunch break. She had a standing order at one of the local lunch bars and was always gone for the full forty minutes. Con assumed it was so that she’d have more people to complain to.

  The morning had been very strange. Joy had been confused by the change in dynamic in the cubicle since she’d left a fortnight earlier. She’d tried to whisper something to Con a couple of times, but he wasn’t taking the bait. He felt a little guilty, and he had asked her whether she’d enjoyed her holiday, but as usual nothing had been right for Joy. Con found it hard to listen to her complaining, let alone sympathise with her. He’d much rather be talking to Blythe.

  He didn’t really want Blythe to know that he was checking to find out whether Dharma had kept an open connection with him. Blythe wouldn’t be able to e-mail Dharma, until she decided whether she was going to free up one of her connections. He didn’t want to get Blythe’s hopes up, if Dharma had disconnected from him, and he didn’t want Blythe to know that he could still communicate with Dharma when she couldn’t

  It was a bit of a dilemma.

  “Aren’t you going out?” asked Blythe.

  “I thought it’d be nicer to sit here with you while Joy’s out for lunch. I’ll get us some coffee in a minute. What are you up to?

  “Mum was horrible over the weekend, because I hardly connected to her at all last week,” said Blythe. “So I’ve got my connection open with her so that she can rant at me some more.”

  “I’d better leave you to it, then. Good luck.”

  “Thanks, Con. I’ll get the coffee today.”

  Con was relieved. If the connection with Dharma was still live, he could send and receive e-mail without Blythe knowing anything about it, and he wouldn’t have to lie about what he was doing because she was busy anyway.

  Con’s screen blinked, and the connection came to life. He was in communication with Dharma.

  He didn’t know what to say, or how to begin, so he started by telling her who he was, and his relationship to Blythe. He said they were friends, and that he was using some of his computer capacity to help her out, checking the data.

  He didn’t expect an answer until at least the following day, so he was surprised when real-time was enabled.

  Con and Dharma talked about the data, back and forth, for about twenty minutes. Con was
reassured that Dharma knew what she was doing, and Dharma was reassured that Con was rigorously checking the data.

  +Does Catford mean anything to you, Concord?+

  +Reference+

  +Location+

  +Sorry. Nothing+

  +OK+

  Concord was clearly a dead end. Dharma’s mother remembered the name Bromley, but that didn’t mean that other old, local names were still in use.

  +Problem?+

  +No problem. Must sign off. Bye, Concord+

  The connection froze. The opportunity for realtime e-mail had been disabled by Dharma.

  What was she thinking? Con got up and put on his sweater.

  “I’m done,” he said, as Blythe tapped away at her keyboard. “I’ll get the coffees; you talk to your mum.”

  “Thanks,” she said, without looking up from her screen.

  Con got their coffees, all the while wondering why Dharma had cut him off so abruptly. He put Blythe’s drink on her computer station. He glanced at her screen, which was full of text, some of it in all caps. Clearly Blythe’s mother had reached fever pitch.

  He sat down at his own station and looked at the last communication he’d had with Dharma. He wondered why she’d asked him about a location he didn’t recognise, that wasn’t a New Wave address, and why the answer had driven her away.

  Catford, he thought to himself. Catford… Catford…

  He took another sip of his coffee. If Dharma had asked him about Catford, she must have thought he might know it, so the answer must lie somewhere in the data. Dharma was all about data.

  They’d exchanged almost no personal information, so why did she want to know about a location called Catford?

  ‘Catford… Data…’

  Con wasn’t seeing it. There were still ten minutes remaining of his lunch break, and he didn’t want to disturb Blythe while she was busy placating her mother. He pulled up the data sheets that Dharma had uploaded for him, and set a search parameter for Catford.

  +Data not found+

  He thought for a moment, and then reset the parameters.

  +Catford. Closest match+