Migration (5 page)

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Authors: Daniel David

Tags: #Sci-Fi & Fantasy

BOOK: Migration
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Mo slung his bag across his chest, shifting it slightly to sit better on the muscles in his shoulders. After hooking the trolley straps back around his waist he glanced slowly around the room, taking in the distinctive light, the stillness, the kit waiting clean and ready for its next body. He felt like he was saying goodbye, like life was poised on the cusp of some monumental shift. Just briefly, he caught a fleeting memory of the excitement he had felt on his first day at Prime/Code, a feeling that a glorious and heroic future was about to unfold before him. It was a sensation that had come to him only a few times before and only in his younger life, but he felt it again now. He indulged it for a moment, feeling it tingle under his skin and when it passed, turned calmly towards the hatch and smiled at his predicament, before climbing silently back into his dark and airless sanctuary.

 

 
Sarah Goes to the Farm

The Vac was cool and clean, a gleaming probe gliding effortlessly through the tubes that traced arteries above, below and around the Metropolis and out to Echo Farm. Sarah and Zoe sat next to each other, silently holding hands and watching their reflections in the glass opposite. Sarah's thumb rocked gently backwards and forwards over the young skin on Zoe's hand, and every now and then they smiled at their reflections or glanced left and right towards each other.

The compartment was quiet for a weekday morning, with only a small group of passengers sharing their journey. A young girl opposite was talking to a group of Hollers that sat like tiny dolls on her lap, behind her a smart man in a utility suit was swiping through reports and shifting numbers. On some mornings every carriage would be buzzing with Hollers of all shapes and sizes, clustered around every traveller. But not this morning.

Far down the compartment, a woman sat awkwardly across two seats, her young child fast asleep over her lap and shoulder. His stick thin legs dangled down from his mother's clutches and swung rhythmically back and forth with the movement of the train. Sarah studied his face, perfectly shut down and expressionless as he slept. She thought how astonishingly beautiful his tiny face looked, made so utterly content and pure that she couldn't think of anything more perfect. She felt how much she wanted to go to him and plant a tender kiss on his forehead, to share everything he had. She remembered when Zoe would sit across her just like that, a tiny weight pushing down with gentle warmth on her breast and stomach. She squeezed her hand a little and Zoe responded by resting her head softly on her shoulder.

A young Asian guy sat silently a few benches further away, intently watching his fingers as they twitched and tapped against his thumb, as if they were counting through an endless equation, whilst occasionally pushing his tortoiseshell glasses back against his brow. Sarah didn't take him for a Holler at first, but as she studied him absentmindedly, his dark utility suit changed to a smart white shirt with a black tie in a gentle wave of transformation. He had short, jet black hair that writhed and twisted maggot-like, tightening into taught knots on his head before gradually sharpening into neat spikes that he disappeared every now and then with a sweep of his hand. She wondered why he was travelling so silently on his own. Hollers never did, they only ever came to interact with someone physical, and she felt her forehead crease a little as she pondered his story. He looked lost in dark thoughts, brooding in silence at his fingertips and every now and then shooting sharp glances randomly towards the roof, the carriage walls and other passengers with awkward, disconnected jolts.

After a couple more stops the train shot out of the darkness of the tunnel and into the glaring sunlight of the day. The change always made Sarah's ears pop and she felt a little adrenalin rush with the speed of the landscape that now raced by. She clenched her teeth a couple of times, feeling the grinding at the back of her mouth and yawned her mouth wide open to clear the pressure that had dulled her hearing with the wrap of the tunnel. When it finally cleared, the hiss of the air conditioning jumped back into her ears and she wondered why she hadn't noticed it before.

The sleeping boy had also been disturbed by the sudden return of the day and now sat up on his mother's lap, lazily steering his half awake eyes around the carriage. His gaze bumped in to Sarah’s and he let it rest with her for a while, unbothered by their meeting. After a few moments she threw him a smile, which he received gratefully and sent one back, wide and bashful, before burying his head in his mother's shoulder.

The young Asian guy had disappeared now, perhaps just to the next carriage, perhaps to appear on some device somewhere else, or maybe to explore somewhere altogether different. She wondered what that must feel like, to be so free to move and change however and whenever you wanted, to exist in any number of places at once, to flit at will between the worlds of eternity and mortality. After thirty years of guessing, she would know in less than an hour.

11.00am

When they arrived at Echo Farm, the doors hissed open and they stepped down onto the dark slate pathway that led up through beautifully manicured gardens towards an imposing white thermoplastic building. The grass had been cut earlier in the morning and the air was still heavy with the rich and earthy scent of the summer. Stray blades of grass were scattered around the edges of the path and a couple of blackbirds were taking advantage of the abundance of bugs and worms that had been tricked to the surface or caught in the open.

As they walked slowly away from the train, Sarah continuously panned her head from side to side, trying to take in all the sights and smells she could, one last time. The day was bright now and the sun glared onto her skin with a continuous searing heat. It made her sweat a little and she felt her skin prickle and her clothes move stubbornly against her limbs. In the distance, over the tops of the evergreen trees that bordered the ever so green lawn, she could see the peaks and ridges of the outland hills that looked bleached and bare by comparison.

As her gaze swept left to right she paused once or twice as the doors at the end of the path grew ever closer. The tall glass panels augmented her view with an almost perfect reflection of her and Zoe, but with a slight ripple from the heat and the imperfection of the surface. She noticed that they hadn’t spoken for the whole journey, though they were still holding hands.

“This sunshine is beautiful,” said Sarah, feeling her words clash a little against their nerves.

Zoe pulled her arm to a stop and turned her towards her.

“Don’t go, Mum,” said Zoe staring directly up into her face, her voice loaded with fear, sadness and desperation. “Please, please, please don’t go.”

She sounded like her five-year-old self, Sarah thought, the very first time she had left her at school. She remembered her tiny utility suit, her bag that never had anything in it and the short cropped hair she’d hated. Sarah smiled at her and took her other hand.

“Zoe, darling, I know how you feel, I know. I’m scared too. But please understand, I’ve been waiting for this my whole life. Apart from you, everything else in my life has been about getting to this point.”

“I know,” Zoe looked awkward, “but I’m worried that you’re making a mistake.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, with Dad…” Zoe waited for a moment, “and you’ve given so much to me and…” Zoe frowned as she hunted for her words, and then took both of Sarah’s hands. “I remember when I was little, you used to read me stories about Kings and Queens, about the first woman to fly, Amelia someone. Explorers. The wars before AarBee.”

Sarah looked at her confused, waiting for this stream of memories to conclude, but Zoe’s words ran out and she instead stood staring at her, waiting desperately for an answer that Sarah couldn’t give. She let go of her hands and brushed her fingers through Zoe’s hair.

“I love you so much sweetheart, and I’ll be right here, whenever you need me, wherever you are… and when you come over, we’ll all be together. Forever.”

Zoe kept her eyes fixed on hers for a moment, and then reluctantly dropped her gaze and wrapped her arms around her and held her in a long embrace.

“I know,” she said quietly, “I’ll just miss hugging you.”

Another couple nudged past them on the path. Sarah hadn’t thought about the others that would be here too. They must have been the first people off the Vac, as now when Sarah looked up there were at least fifty other people walking up the path and moving past them. Some laughed and chattered in groups, some walked arm in arm. Most smiled and talked excitedly, but within a few seconds she recognised the uncertainty that lurked beneath the surface and stole a little of the colour from their cheeks.

“Come on,” said Sarah, “we don't want to be the last in line.”

They continued their walk towards the sheen of the doors and bright white of the building and when they reached it, joined the crowds of people meeting friends and chaperones, or wandering about looking lost in it all.

Beyond the doors was the vast, echoing Welcome Atrium with a giant screen that flashed names and times and helpful notices. Underneath the screen was a long counter with bright red numbers and half a dozen officials smiling at the people who were now forming lines in front of them. Sarah started to head towards them, but then spotted Abe and Hadya standing out of the fray and waving wildly at them.

“Been trying to get you,” said Abe, “you’re offline.”

“Oh, sorry,” Sarah tapped her pocket, “I was so distracted I forgot to connect. Anyway, here we are.”

“Come on,” Hadya gently steered her shoulder. “Let’s get you swiped in.”

The clerk beneath the big red five was very sweet and helpful. Not much older than Zoe, perhaps only in his first year of service, he was bored and awkward in equal measure, with a small collection of freshly squeezed spots clustered around his mouth. Benjamin – probably not his real name – swiped Sarah's thumb and told her what a beautiful day it was, that there were no delays and she could go straight through.

Beyond the counter was a gentle flight of steps that swept in an arc across the far end of the Atrium. They walked up in their tiny group, two Hollers, mother and daughter, and stopped at the top, in front of another set of massive glass doors. Only the Migrant and their chaperone could go beyond this point and a small number of Drones stood discretely at the sides of the concourse to make sure this was so.

Sarah put her arms around Zoe, enveloping her in as much of her body as she could, feeling the fit of her skin, the gentle heat that emanated from her head and neck onto her cheek, breathing in the smell of her. Underneath the shampoo and body spray, the coconut and the rose petals, Sarah could still recognise the warm scent of Zoe, which she knew from when she first held her, tiny and helpless.

“I love you,” she said, and kissed her firmly on the mouth.

“I love you too, Mum.” Zoe could barely speak, and her chin shook uncontrollably as her words squeezed out.

“I'll see you tonight,” Sarah reassured her and wiped a tiny tear from Zoe's cheek.

“I’ll see you soon,” said Abe. “Don’t worry.”

As she approached the door it opened for her and inside a girl, a woman really, somewhere in her twenties, sat at another counter waiting for her.

“This is Sarah,” said Hadya, “2095-F-METRO009-CLA-286153”

“Scan please,” said the woman automatically.

Sarah placed her hand on the scanner. It felt warm and there were little streaks and prints of grease from those that had come through before her.

“OK. Green corridor, Room 71 please.”

They set off past the counter and headed down the wide corridor with a large green screen floating high above it. Hadya, of course, new exactly where she was going, but let Sarah look for the corridor and count the numbers anyway.

When they reached Room 71, Sarah knocked lightly and was called in by a woman’s voice. Hadya followed and flickered slightly as she re-cast from the corridor to the room.

Room 71 was a small box room with no windows. It contained a simple high back chair and a screen on a thin metal stand. It smelt of cleaning products and new furniture.

“Hi Sarah, I’m Melanie,” said the young woman, again in her mid-twenties, who was dressed in a crisp white utility suit. She handed her a small plastic cup that contained a sip of dark green syrup.

“Just like before,” she said, “if you can take this it’ll help with our final calibration, which should take about ten minutes, then we'll do a final upload and you’re all done.”

She glanced at Hadya.

“Right, I’ll go,” said Hadya. “Well done Sarah. I’ll see you later. Congratulations!” And with that, she disappeared.

Sarah gulped down the syrup. It was sweet and minty at first, but left a bitter residue that clung to her teeth and made her tongue rub backwards and forwards on the roof of her mouth. She sat in the chair, rotating her shoulders to get comfortable and resting her head snuggly in the headrest. The assistant began to stick white disks around her head and neck, leaning her forward a little to get to the top of her spine. She took two blue discs that went onto Sarah’s palms and lastly one larger red one that she placed on Sarah’s chest, once she had unzipped her top a little.

“OK, nice and relaxed for me please. Looking straight at the screen.”

Sarah’s image appeared opposite her, sitting in a chair just like hers, staring straight at her. It was like looking into a mirror, only the Sarah on-screen made a steady series of twitches and ticks, smiles and frowns as she calibrated once more. Sarah stared at her silently, mesmerised by her image.

“Could you say your name please,” asked the assistant.

“Sarah,” replied Sarah, and the Sarah on-screen said it at exactly the same time.

“How old are you Sarah?” asked the assistant.

“32,” replied both Sarahs.

The assistant asked questions like this for ten minutes, just as she’d promised, and every time both Sarah’s answered in perfect unison. Where were you born? What do you do? What is your daughter’s name? Favourite food? First memory? Worst nightmare? Best sex? The Sarah on-screen took it all in, whilst the monitors on Sarah’s body captured every response to every question, and fed it to Sarah on-screen.

“OK,” said Melanie, handing Sarah a plastic cup, “another drink I’m afraid, then we’ll check the data, and you’re done.” Melanie smiled at her, “This might make you a little woozy, but it helps with the Migration and taking the plant out.”

Sarah gulped it down, it was worse than the last one, the thick syrup making her gag as it coated her throat with immovable layers of greasy chemicals.

“Nice and relaxed,” said Melanie again.

Sarah felt the liquid rush through her brain and shut her eyes to control the dizziness that took hold of her.

“Good girl.”

She felt her muscles give in to the syrup and her shoulders dropped an inch in the chair. Her eyes felt heavy and the sound of Melanie moving around the room resounded in her buzzing skull. She felt as if her limbs had drifted away from her, that gravity had somehow left the room and electrical pulses shot up her spine in ecstatic rushes that made her hairs stand on end.

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