This is What Love IS

This is What Love is

The Desperate Gamble

Kathy strode through the silent New London City Hospital alongside John. The scrubs dwarfed her slight frame, while they emphasised the powerful build beneath John’s. Their surgical caps, pulled low, obscured their hair, deepening their disguise.

Six months until her twenty-fifth birthday and until the decree. The thought of the Chancellor Gori’s law, a constant threat hanging over every woman on planet Nova Terra, forcing her to bear a stranger’s child twisted her gut. This desperate abduction was their only chance. The risk was terrifying—the consequences, a life sentence on the squalid prison planet Tartarus, unthinkable—but the alternative, a life without John. She gripped her tote tighter, trying to still her trembling hands.

As they approached the Chancellor’s room, she risked a glance at John. A fleeting smile touched her lips but vanished as his head snapped to the side, his jaw tight. He didn’t meet her gaze. Love was forbidden. Even a hint of tenderness could betray them. As Immunes unaffected by Serpax, the emotion-suppressing medication in the water supply, they had to be careful. She averted her gaze, her own jaw clenching in fear.

They reached the Chancellor’s room. John’s voice was sharp and urgent. “Now.”

Her heart pounded as she followed him into the room. Chancellor Gori, engrossed in a magazine, lowered it, revealing his bald head. John darted to him and pressed a pillow against his face, muffling his startled gasp. Kathy’s fingers fumbled in her tote for the syringe filled with propofol. As she injected the sedative, the needle glinted under the fluorescent light. A mixture of propofol’s faint aroma and the hospital’s sterile scent heightened her anxiety. The Chancellor slumped, his head lolling to the side. Kathy gasped, a sudden breath catching in her throat.

They hoisted him into a wheelchair next to the bed. She wrestled a small, black-haired wig onto his bulbous head, finally securing it.

John wheeled the Chancellor out while Kathy rushed ahead to open the ward door. Then, Dr Paul joined them, his white coat a symbol of unquestioned authority. The group walked together until they reached the hospital exit. Dr Paul nodded at Adam, the security officer, “Urgent transport.”

Adam winked and waved them on. “Jenny’s ambulance is at the emergency bay.”

Kathy and John slipped the unconscious Chancellor out of the hospital, leaving Dr Paul to present the reception desk with a forged release form.

The Immunes’ Choice

Kathy, John, and Jenny were the first to reach the safe house on the edge of New London. 7:20, Kathy noted, checking her watch. Three hours and forty minutes until the Tartarus ship’s departure. The ambulance hidden in the basement garage, where Chancellor Gori lay unconscious on a cot. The air, thick with the stench of mildew and earth, clung to Kathy. A dim lantern flickered in the corner. Free of their surgical caps, Kathy’s auburn hair flowed around her shoulders. John exposed his close-cropped black hair.

Jenny stood facing three photos on the wall. They showed her, Adam and Dr Paul, together with their partners. Kathy put an arm around Jenny’s shoulders, stroking her blond ponytail. Their partners on Tartarus: alive yet lost. The thought suffocated Kathy.

Jenny ripped her photo from the wall, the tearing sound a small act of violence in the muted room. “None of his business,” her voice tight, as she turned and disappeared up the creaky wooden stairs, the photo clutched in her hand.

Kathy felt helpless. Jenny had been her friend since childhood and watched her mood darken when her patner, Simon, was captured. There were no words.

At that moment, Chancellor Gori stirred. As if on cue, Adam, his uniform still crisp, and Dr Paul, lab coat dishevelled, stumbled downstairs.

“All Ok?” asked John.

“You bet,” Adam said, barely containing his excitement. “Two Chancellors guard uniforms – helmets, bar codes, the whole shebang – snatched right out of their hospital rooms. Two prisoner uniforms, too. We’ve got plenty of time before they’re missed. Jenny’s upstairs getting them ready now.”

“Two?” Kathy asked, her brow furrowed. “Why two?”

“Insurance,” Adam said. “Things can go sideways.”

Chancellor Gori’s eyes fluttered open.

“Paul,” John spoke sharply. “Check him.”

Dr Paul rushed to the cot, his stethoscope at the ready.

A few minutes passed before Chancellor Gori regained consciousness. He shoved Dr Paul away. “What is the meaning of this? I was in the hospital! My heart—” He clutched at his chest.

“Unfortunately, you’ll live,” Dr Paul replied, joining his comrades.

Kathy stepped forward, her voice trembling but firm. “We, like you, are Immunes. We’re sending you to Tartarus.” She met his gaze, forcing herself to hold it despite the flicker of fear in her eyes. “We know the Council isn’t happy about the energy field you placed around Tartarus. They’re waiting for you to die before reviewing those dehumanising laws. With you gone, we have a chance for a new beginning.”

The Chancellor’s brow furrowed beneath his sweaty hair. The silence in the room grew heavy. “So,” he finally said, his voice laced with disbelief. “You’re the remaining Immunes.”

Kathy clenched her fists. “Do you—”

He interrupted. “You don’t understand how fortunate you are. They abandoned Earth—neglected it until it became uninhabitable. Thirteen generations lived on the Colossus, travelling through space to find a new world. They found Nova Terra. Same gravity, a moon, the same orbit, seasons, water, vegetation. Another three generations aboard the Colossus while they built infrastructure. Another five, and here we are. A clean, green planet. So much like Earth, but without the wars. Why? Emotions destroyed Earth. Nova Terra bases its culture on efficiency and productivity. Suppressing emotions was the only way to prevent another disaster. You should be grateful.”

Kathy unclenched her fists, the pain of her nails digging into her palms replaced by a grinding anger.

Adam snorted, “By turning people into robots?”. He pointing to the remaining photos on the wall. “You sent our partners to Tartarus. We’ll never see them again. We live with the knowledge of their suffering.” His voice cracked.

Kathy’s stance shifted, her movements sharper. “We can’t undo what happened,” she said. “But we can stop it from happening again. That’s what matters.” The shared purpose gave her strength.

“On that note,” John said, “let’s get this done. Paul, deal with him. The rest of us are going upstairs.”

The Chancellor blinked, his eyes unfocused, a dawning realisation spreading across his face. A coldness settled over Kathy as she watched him, seemingly unable to comprehend his fate. She followed her comrades upstairs, grateful to escape the stifling air of the basement.

Love’s Sacrifice

Kathy and John, now clad in gunmetal grey uniforms bearing the Chancellor’s insignia, stood ready. This is it, Kathy thought, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs. There’s no turning back now.

“Looking sharp,” Adam said, sinking into a worn beige couch in the lounge. “So, three months in this dump.”

Kathy surveyed the room. Dust coated the windowsill, and grimy windows muted the morning sun. She was beyond caring, lost in the grip of her fear.

“I warned you,” John said. “This safe house is the last place they’ll look. Besides, once the Serpax wears off and the population’s emotions return, we’ll be heroes. It’s 10:50. Let’s move.”

Kathy’s breath still came in shallow gasps, the adrenaline from the night’s events lingering. She hugged Jenny, who squeezed her back.

“Come back safe,” Jenny said.

Kathy and John donned their helmets, the visors snapping shut, obscuring their faces. They walked out to Dr Paul’s Silent Runner. Chancellor Gori, again unconscious, wigged and now clad in a brown striped prisoner’s uniform, slumped in the back seat. Dr Paul sat beside him. Kathy took the passenger seat, John the wheel.

“You two get all the fun, said Adam, “remember the prisoners’ names whose uniforms I swiped are in both your pockets, pick one.”

Kathy waved back at Jenny’s worried face until she was out of sight, a silent prayer that this wasn’t be their last goodbye.

They drove in silence. What have we done? Kathy thought, her heart racing. The uniform felt heavy, a reminder of the dangerous game they were playing. Had they made the right choice? Was this desperate gamble going to save them, or condemn them?

Half an hour later, they arrived at the port. John pulled a wheelchair from the Silent Runner’s trunk as Dr Paul gave Chancellor Gori another injection of propofol.

“I’ll be waiting,” Dr Paul said, his voice barely audible above the din of the port, as they wheeled the Chancellor inside.

The Scourge dominated the docking bay, a sleek, obsidian vessel with sharp, unforgiving lines. The ship’s chilling sterility made Kathy shiver. Its surface gleamed under the harsh glare of the lights, reflecting the indifference of the Nova Terra Authority. A narrow hatch was the only visible entry, hinting at the ship’s purpose: the efficient transport of human cargo. 

They joined the line of guards, each escorting their prisoner, waiting their turn to deliver their human cargo to the ship’s hatch.

The line grew shorter, each prisoner a step closer to their fate. The robotic arm moved with precision, taking custody of the reluctant individuals. A sudden surge of movement, a desperate cry—a prisoner had broken from the line. Kathy’s heart clenched. The guards were too many, too vigilant. The escape ended brutally. Kathy looked away, a wave of pity washing over her. 

A guard carrying a loud hailer strode over to the waiting queue. He lifted his visor, his face grim, and put the loud hailer to his lips. “We’re one prisoner short,” he announced, his voice amplified across the docking bay. “We’re trying to locate him, but if he’s not found by take-off, we miss our window through the energy field. Take-off will be postponed until midnight. It is policy not to take-off without every space filled.”

Unease spread through the line. Kathy’s breath caught. Midnight. Caught. If they were still here at midnight, the search for the Chancellor will extended to the Scourge. She scanned John’s faceless visor, desperate for a sign.

“Wait here,” John said, turning to leave. Wait here. The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken danger. Panic clawed at Kathy’s throat.

The line dwindled further. Kathy checked her watch. 11:30. If he wasn’t back by 11:35… The thought trailed off, lost in a sea of despair. What then? What could she do?

At 11:34 she was at the front of the queue. A guard scanned the barcode on her sleeve.

“Name of prisoner?” he asked.

Kathy paused, then remembered the first name of the two that Adam had given her. “Peter Simpson”.

“Is he fit to travel? He does not look well.”

“Fit enough, he’s sedated.”

The guard’s scanner clicked against her bar-coded sleeve.

“Fit enough,” Kathy replied, trying to sound confident. “Sedated.”

The guard helped her lift Chancellor Gori, his weight heavy in her arms. The robotic arm took him away. Kathy turned and walked away, every nerve on edge.

She walked out of the port to the Silent Runner, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. The car was empty. No sign of John or Dr Paul. Her panic escalated, a rising tide threatening to engulf her. She collapsed into the passenger seat, her legs like jelly. 11:42 blinked from the dashboard. Where are they? she thought. Waiting was torture. She gripped the dashboard, her knuckles white. Then she slumped against the seat and everything became black.

Kathy’s eyes blinked open. The world swam back into focus, the blurry shapes resolving themselves into the interior of the Silent Runner. A voice, familiar and reassuring, drifted through the fog in her mind. “Kathy? Are you alright?” It was Dr Paul. She blinked, trying to clear her head. “I… I fainted?” she mumbled; her voice thick with sleep. “Yes,” he whispered. “He paused. I’m so sorry Kathy, John insisted we use the extra uniforms, and I escort him onto the ship. He knew there was no other way. It was that or we all go to Tartarus.” 

He handed her a piece of paper. “He wanted you to read this.” Kathy read the words:

“This is what love is. I love you. Please get on with your life.”

Then a low rumble vibrated through the car.  The sound pressed against her eardrums, a deep, resonant hum. She looked up, her vision still blurry, and saw The Scourge. A vast, obsidian shape climbed the sky. The roar of its engines filled the air, a deafening crescendo that made her wince. Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the world was plunged into darkness again.

The Chance at Love

Kathy stood with Janet, Adam, and Dr Paul at the podium on a stage in New London’s vast central square, now packed with cheering crowds. Three months. Three months of squalor in the safe house, three months of mourning John.

“Alex, Alex, Alex!” chanted the crowd, impatiently awaiting the new Chancellor. The cheers of the crowd were a distant hum, a stark contrast to the ache in her heart. A tear slipped down her cheek, an acknowledgment of the emotional rollercoaster she’d endured.

A roar of approval followed Chancellor Alex’s appearance; the brass buttons of his pale blue jacket sparkled in the sunlight.

“Citizens of Nova Terra,” he said into the collection of microphones attached to the podium. “It is with honour and humility that I accept the nomination by the Council for Chancellor of Nova Terra.” Another roar of approval. Kathy managed a smile. Nova Terra thrived as the oppressive cloud dissipated. But even as she clapped, a hollow ache resonated within her. John wasn’t there to share it. 

Chancellor Alex continued, “Within days of my predecessor’s death, we stopped introducing Serpax to our water supply. Your cheers today evidence that the effect has subsided. Relationships are once again a matter of choice. As our emotions returned, they felt anger, even bitterness. They understood they had been enslaved by a succession of Chancellors who had systematically suppressed our feelings. We can learn the lessons of Earth’s failures without turning ourselves into robots.” Another roar from the crowd echoed across the square.

He gestured for Kathy and her comrades to approach the podium. “We have these four brave Immunes to thank for our newfound existence. Kathy McCloud, Dr Paul Gosling, Adam Wright, and Jenny Green.”

A fresh wave of applause erupted. Pride swelled within Kathy, but bittersweet, tinged with the constant ache of John’s absence. She exchanged a quick glance with Jenny as she squeezed her arm, a small, shared smile passing between them.

Dr Paul nodded, his eyes scanning the crowd. Adam grinned and waved. Chancellor Alex paused, allowing the cheers of adulation to subside before continuing. “It is regrettable that the energy field surrounding Tartarus—which allows ships to enter but prevents their return—remains in place. We cannot return the innocent Immunes sentenced to live out their lives there. We lack the technology to disable it. Chancellor Gori’s oppressive control compelled the Council to reverse its position and nominate a Chancellor who will dismantle such controls. We now knew that the censored messages from Tartarus had been falsified. Their lives are more primitive than ours here on Nova Terra, but they have developed a community and are building their new world. Without Serpax in their water supply, they have been doing so with their emotions free and intact. I will reach out for volunteers to move to Tartarus and help speed up the development of a parallel world.”

A wave of dizziness washed over Kathy. Move to Tartarus? The words echoed in her mind. It meant… John. Tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision. Hardly daring to believe it, she blinked back the tears. A reunion with John was possible for her. She glanced at Jenny, Adam, and Dr Paul, a silent question in her eyes: Did they understand? Did they know?

As she looked at her comrades, the answer became obvious. It wasn’t just about duty, or adventure, or even a desire to help. It was about love. Jenny’s eyes were shining with a mixture of excitement and resolve, a small, determined nod confirming her unspoken agreement. Adam, ever the adventurer, was grinning, a spark of anticipation lighting up his face. Even Dr Paul had a glint of something akin to longing in his eyes, a hint of professional curiosity mingling with a deep, personal yearning. They missed their partners. They had to go. Kathy’s shaky smile widened. An adventure into the unknown, was daunting. But the prospect of joining John, and of everyone being with their partners, was impossible to resist. And now, looking at her comrades, she knew she wouldn’t be going alone. They were bound by the same desperate hope, the same unwavering love.

“Who are going to be the first volunteers?2, Chancellor Alex shouted.

The comrades lifted their hands into the air. The crowd roared.