The Unfavorable Read online

  The pressure already on my shoulders is debilitating enough, they don’t want to add more to it. It’s sweet they are trying, but their attempt is only causing me more discomfort.

  The recurring dream I’ve been having must really be worrying them, too. Hell, it worries me… If I believed in omens, I would barricade myself in my room. If only that would work. It’s a worse idea than going to the Rite. I’ve heard stories that Loyals are sent to storm your house to retrieve you if you aren’t on time, though.

  Breakfast passes quietly. I’m too nervous to finish my plate, so I make sure to eat half of my French toast and one sausage link, so Mom doesn’t worry more than she already is. I can only imagine what is going through her head, and Dad’s.

  I want to eat everything she cooked but I don’t feel like throwing it all back up before my test. Embarrassment is not something I need on top of the Rite.

  I get up from my chair and take my plate to the sink, focusing on keeping my breathing steady. My parents are doing their best to be calm for me, I can try for them as well. They deserve a bit of reprieve at this point.

  Hopefully, my attempt won’t crash and burn, and give them some relief. I’m actually a bit surprised neither of them ask me why I didn’t finish my plate. It looks like we’re all on the same page today.

  “Well,” I start, faking a bit of the cheer they’ve expressed and turning toward them. “I guess it’s time to get going, then.”

  Mom stands, not even half of her breakfast eaten, and walks quickly over to me. She wraps me in a tight hug that makes it difficult to breath. She does a great job of hiding it, but there’s terror in those blue eyes I inherited. My heart cries out to her knowing she’s in so much pain. I want so bad to take that away from her.

  “Oh, honey,” she breathes into my ear. I detect the slightest waver in her voice, but she hides it so well that I almost second guess myself. “Good luck. We’ll be waiting right here to discover your results. Be brave! We know you’ll receive fabulous marks.”

  She slowly lets go and Dad is there behind her, startling me a little. I didn’t even hear him stand from his chair. He has the same fake smile plastered on his face that Mom does. Dad isn’t able to hide the fear in his eyes either, but it’s hard for me to look at them.

  Not because of how scared he is, though. Micah had Dad’s deep brown eyes, so I see my brother whenever I look into my Dad’s eyes…

  “Hey, big girl,” he whispers, also hugging me close.

  I almost start balling right there in the kitchen hearing his soft, comforting tone. Almost as if it might be the last thing he ever says to me and he knows that. He wants to make sure the last words he speaks to me are gentle and comforting. Like he’s trying to say ‘it’s going to be okay’ with simply his voice.

  He holds onto me longer than I expect him to. We’re all afraid of what my scores will be, but he’s taking it the hardest. I think he’s having a hard time letting me leave for the Rite – even more so than Mom.

  I never thought of myself as a daddy’s girl, but maybe I am. It wouldn’t be the worst title to have in this world. They’re both afraid a Loyal will arrive at the front door again instead of me being able to tell them my results.

  “Come home to us, okay?” he murmurs in my ear.

  Dad lets go and all I can do is nod as I look at the floor. Although I love those brown eyes him and Micah share, it’s too much for me to take right now. My voice is caught in my throat with the lump that’s formed there. I’m trying to swallow it but I’m having trouble. I wipe the tears from my eyes before they have a chance to fall down my cheeks.

  “I love you Mom and Dad,” I choke out to the floor, my body shaking.

  I’m scared but I must stay strong. I clear my throat as best as I can and smile at them with as much faux confidence as I can muster. They need to believe I’m going to come home, even if I’m unsure. I can’t even imagine how difficult this must be for them, having to watch me leave and then wait to see if they are going to lose another child.

  Chapter 2

  Alora

  Glancing at the digital clock built into the wall on the other side of the dining room table, I look to see how much time I have. It reads 8:06am. All individuals taking tests need to be at Central Hall by 9am or Loyals are sent to bring them in, and always with a little unnecessary force.

  They are big on loyalty – first to the Arbiter and second to the laws, rather than the safety of citizens.

  We live near the outside wall of the colony, which makes the Central Hall building a good forty-five-minute walk from our house. It’s situated in the very center of Geha. I have to get going now if I want to be on time. I give Mom and Dad one last look. One last smile before taking my leave and walking out the front door.

  Walking is the only form of transportation we use. Early leaders thought that vehicles of any kind were not beneficial in our new world and didn’t include this in the plans when they arrived on Leda. They only created pollution and degraded the ozone layer on Earth-that-was.

  Even eco-friendly possibilities were not options worth considering to them. No one wanted to risk contaminating the clean air for the convenience of a vehicle. I’ve never minded this societal norm, but I’ve heard a lot of my schoolmates complain about it before.

  As a society, we walk everywhere we go, no matter how far the distance. My history book only briefly explains that it was implemented to avoid the degradation of our ozone layer, as well as to avoid obesity and the health issues that go along with it.

  It has worked for the most part. There are still biological issues Developers have been unable to fix when it comes to the few who are still overweight. It has to do with some hereditary gene that they can’t pinpoint yet to weed out.

  Today the streets are mostly empty as I walk. The very few other people bustling along the street are either workers newly graduated from their designated higher education program running errands for their bosses, or mothers caring for young children too small yet to attend school.

  It’s very rare I get to see this side of society and it all seems so lonely and trivial compared to the education forced upon children. An almost meaningless existence without the purpose given to people by the actual work their chosen careers give them.

  Most citizens are either at their workplaces or attending a lecture, where I normally would be at this time. School is year-round for those of us under sixteen or in need of further education for their career, with short holidays to keep us focused on our studies.

  Before obtaining a career, children are in school from age four through sixteen. Afterwards, there’s another eight years of schooling before you’re on your own. Even then, you’re normally an errand person for a couple years before really digging into the work of your given field.

  The man who started all this, and the very beginning of our new society, is named Nevada Geha. Except, instead of calling careers ‘scientists’ or ‘doctors’, he formed new names for these fields; new titles for a new world. Each individual is categorized by the work that is chosen for them: Loyals, Developers, Healers, Drudges, and Artists.

  Loyals are those who score the highest in loyalty. They become our colonies guards and military, along with keeping the peace outside and inside the walls of the city. I don’t know about other cities on the planet - anything outside the walls is extremely hush-hush. Loyals help the current city leader keep the secrets. They are glorified assistants, in some cases.

  Developers are anyone that helps with any advancement that improves our way of life or way of thinking. They are what used to be engineers, scientists, and architects on Earth-that-was that help build and advance technology to make our way of living better. The quality of life has been improved greatly since leaving Earth-that-was, thanks to these individuals.

  Healers are the doctors and nurses of our time. They are, also, charged with doing research and studies that will continue to keep illness at bay. So, they have a sort of Developer aspect to their
career, but one that is specific to their field.

  Most sickness has been eradicated or easily treated. As a result, Healers are charged with research or maintaining the machinery to perform the Bleeding Rite and the Main Frame.

  Drudges are what we call the individuals who work on the farms outside the wall and grow our food, but it’s only recently that I’ve become aware of this career. The title incorporates the management of the orchards, too. These people live beyond the barrier – beyond the walls that enclose the city. More information than that has been kept from the general public, although I’ve yet to find out why.

  Artists are those skilled in painting or sculpting, who create all the art we have in our museums and galleries. This, also, includes anyone gifted in singing and dancing. Those who could merely act or perform were deemed unimportant. Unless they are skilled in more than performing, they aren’t considered worth keeping in our society.

  Anyone that doesn’t fit, or score high enough, in any of these five categories is deemed unfit to reside within our city. However, this is another tidbit I learned about recently. The elders who teach our lessons merely say our siblings are sent to a specialized school that can better suit their abilities, or lack thereof. We aren’t told that we will never see them again.

  Geha, the first Arbiter, also created the government structure that our colony adheres to within the city. I cannot speak for the others on this planet. When he passed, leaders were chosen to form other colonies across this planet and they built on what he started so long ago.

  However, for all I know, they could have done the opposite of what Geha started once everything became divided. The general populous hasn’t been informed of the progress the other cities have made since then.

  There is no religion anymore, either. We value Geha’s accomplishments and history as if he were a god, as he began what we have today. He isn’t recognized as a divine being, but revered similar to one. I understand that he is the mastermind behind our society, but I don’t understand the idolization of his memory.

  I’m not sure I can follow suit with everyone else. There has been too much damage done to my family for me to blindly assimilate like my parents.

  There are still some amazing aspects to this place. Our society, for example, is created strictly from Terra itself. No pesticides or harmful chemicals are allowed unless it is working towards new medical or scientific advances.

  Our biologists – can be either Developers or Healers now – are constantly working on advances in health and are continually curing diseases and bettering mankind. Unfortunately, there are as many issues with human physiology as there are stars in our galaxy, which complicates the process.

  We call our colony Geha, after the man who started our civilization, as ours was the first he established on this planet. After he passed, those he left behind held him in such high esteem that they wanted to continue his legacy of trying to create the perfect human. Of course, everyone has a different view of what perfect is.

  The original leaders agreed that the best way to manipulate evolution was to weed out anyone who is merely average or below, and that picking couples to try and create a child that was above average was the best plan of action. I’m not sure that anyone has known or experienced the feeling of love in centuries. I like to think my parents love each other, but I know the tradition holds true for them – brought together simply to procreate.

  The Main Frame is a massive computer. It was born to read the blood of each individual and reveal their IQ, read what proficiency he or she possesses, use that information to give them a career, and then pair them with a mate for the best possible outcome to produce children with perfect genes.

  Thankfully, the two individuals matched together don’t have to start making babies right away. They are allowed five years to become acquainted and comfortable with each other, and their career path, before required to produce offspring. I’m sure there’s more than the Main Frame does, it is a high-tech machine, but anything else is confidential.

  As our Healers and Developers didn’t want to waste the time and manpower performing the tests themselves, they made a machine that simply draws the blood and runs it into the Main Frame to test while the subject awaits their fate.

  All a Healer needs to do is take the needle, poke the subject, and make sure it is secure. The IQ blood test is called the Bleeding Rite because of the massive amount needed to perform the test. It takes 1.5 liters of blood to complete.

  Birthdays are not celebrated, nor are anniversaries. The only day that is recognized as an individual, is when you turn sixteen years old. It is the day you must go to Central Hall and have blood drawn. When your whole future is planned out for you.

  A passing grade means staying within the confines of the walls surrounding the colony and living a carefree life working in a career that has the best individualized opportunities. However, anyone who fails the exam, or even scores average, is taken away from their families.

  Although we don’t celebrate the same holidays as, I imagine, humans did back on Earth-that-was, Nevada Geha’s birthday is celebrated, as well as the turning of a new year. With such a focus on learning, those are the only recognized holidays.

  These are the only days off from the education that all children receive. Not many individuals actually take those days off, though. Most still work at home during those days when government buildings are closed.

  The air beneath the dome covering the city is set to be a little chilly – it’s autumn year-round. A soft breeze brushes against my cheek, breaking me from my thoughts. Thankfully, I don’t feel cold with the sweater Mom set out for me this morning.

  There aren’t many trees within the wall, but I see three or four small ones as I continue my walk. Their leaves are orange and red from the ‘changing’ season. Autumn is my favorite of the possible four. With the climate control within the dome, it’s always spring or autumn and I love it that way.

  The smell of crushed leaves lifts my spirits a little, bringing back memories of days long since passed. In particular, it reminds me of when Micah would bring me close to the wall during our adventures together. It brings tears to my eyes. I could see the tops of the trees on the other side of the wall and yearned to stand in their shade and climb their branches.

  It makes me even more curious about the world beyond the wall remembering the strange green leaves on the tops over it, compared to the orange and red ones inside Geha. The elders taught me that the ones outside are genetically and biologically enhanced to create more oxygen per tree and live much longer.

  It was thought to keep forests from dying so we don’t die from lack of oxygen. They’re the same as the trees inside the dome, though, and no one told me why those leaves are different. Micah and I have had many discussions about it.

  But that was another time. Another life. I don’t have the time to think about the memories that keep me close to my brother. It would only stall my movements and cause me pain on the day that’s already difficult.

  Today, I have more important things to think about. Well, not more important, but definitely impending. Like what my future holds. Still, the distraction is nice for a few minutes. My trip seems shorter than it normally would have without it.

  Central Hall comes into my line of sight with ten minutes to spare. The digital clock built into the roof of the building gives me the time. I stop my stride just before the stairs leading to the main entrance. It has always been an oddly large building, but it seems even more massive now, as I stand before the huge doors.

  It is the oldest structure still upright besides Nevada Geha’s abode, which was transformed into a museum long ago. This building is built much different than that and has been continuously updated over the years.

  When Geha first arrived on this planet, all houses were made of wood. Since then, all buildings have been upgraded slowly over time to an alloy that the early Developers engineered to last centuries. Since then, technological advances have fou
nd metals that don’t wear down whatsoever.

  These metals keep the same shape, form, and condition it is given without deteriorating. The only remaining structure with the special alloy is the museum housing Nevada Geha’s personal items and accomplishments. Central Hall has been updated to the advanced metals, as well as every other building that is within the walls.

  Unable to stall any longer with the history refresher course, I take a deep breath, walk up the steps and into the building. Inside, the ceiling is tall, with large pillars staggered throughout the main entrance.

  There are a few Healers walking around, but no one is in a hurry. A woman with kind eyes, a warm smile, and cheerful demeanor steps up to me. She’s several inches taller than me, her skin is a little less pale than mine, and her long brown hair is tied behind her and stretches down her back. I wonder if she greets every teenager that comes in for their Bleeding Rite.

  “Hello, there,” she cheers.

  Her peppiness is palpable and a little out of the ordinary, given my reason for being at Central Hall to begin with. She knows I’m here for my Rite, since she met me at the door. In any other situation I would have found it irritating, but it’s oddly comforting right now.

  She must be a new Healer because I haven’t seen her around here before. Geha knows I’ve visited Mom plenty of times to know all Healers who have been around for at least a year.

  “My name is Shytas,” she continues, “and I’ll be with you through the Bleeding Rite process today.”

  I want to say hello, or anything at all to ease the tension I’m feeling, but I’m unable to open my mouth to utter a single word. Instead, I stare at her, hoping the panic I feel comes across in my gaze, so she understands what I’m going through.