Conscious Uncoupling

PRESENT

“There are many options,” the whitecoat was saying, “I have brochures and pamphlets for you to read through. Take some time. When you have made your decision, send your transmission to the office, and we can make the necessary arrangements.” 

Logan’s mouth felt as if she had swallowed a mouthful of sand. Her throat was dry and gritty. “Could I please - water?” she croaked.

The whitecoat reached across his desk, speaking into the intercom, “Water please, for Miss Boone?” He placed a stack of pamphlets on the desk facing her. 

A secretary came in, carrying a tray with water, and Logan stretched out her hand to take the glass, “Thank you.” She downed the glass in one go, feeling parched, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. 

“These are for you,” The whitecoat gestured to the pamphlets. 

“I don’t need to see them. The pod,” she gave a curt nod.

“You should take some time, discuss it with your partner, your family,” the whitecoat shuffled in his chair. “We’ll await your transmission.” 

Logan rose and exited into the long white corridor. She felt as though she had been ushered into that office months ago, but it had been mere minutes. Minutes to tell her she was dying. 

TWO WEEKS PRIOR 

“You’ve hardly touched your rations,” Kaia said over her breakfast, looking worriedly at her sister. 

“Lately, everything I eat, I just bring back up,” Logan frowned, “I’m not hungry, anyway.” She slid her tray off to the side for one of the cleaners to take. 

“Did you have your implant removed?” Kaia’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. 

Logan shook her head, “No,” she sighed, “I went to the medical centre yesterday. They put me in the scanner. Took some samples. I’m awaiting transmission for results.” 

Kaia’s face fell in worry, “You should have said.” 

“I’m saying it now.” 

“Logan,” Kaia reprimanded, “I could’ve gone with you. You know, to hold your hand or whatever.” She ate a spoonful of yoghurt. 

“It’s fine. I didn’t want anyone with me.” 

“Not even Max?” 

Logan inhaled through her nose, and breathed out through her mouth, “I want to uncouple.” 

“WHAT?” 

“I just… Between the sickness, and tiredness -” 

“Tiredness?” 

Logan nodded, “I haven’t found the right time to tell him.” 

“Why?” 

“I’m not in love with him anymore, Kai,” she said softly. “I lied to him. Yesterday. I told him I was going to see about getting my implant removed.” 

“You - what? Why would you tell him that if you want to uncouple?” Kaia sat back in her seat, pushed her tray away from her, and crossed her arms. 

Logan shrugged, “I have no idea. He’s been asking me to get it taken out for months now. I didn’t want him to worry. You know, he’s always fussing,” she sneered with the last word.

“He fusses because he loves you. Max is a good man.” Kaia shook her head in disbelief. 

“I know. What is wrong with me?” 

“Medically or you mean, you know -” Kaia tapped her right temple. 

Logan nodded and mimicked the gesture, tapping her temple, a small smile on her lips. She sighed, “It isn’t like I just woke up one morning and my feelings had changed. It happened gradually, over time. And then he kept mentioning the implant -” 

“He wants to be a dad, you’re going to fall out of love with him for that?” 

“The thought of having a child with him… It just didn’t feel right anymore.” Logan winced at her own admission. 

“You have got to tell him, poor guy.” Kaia frowned. 

“I know, I will.” 

THE WHITECOATS

A few dozen whitecoats were seated around a long rectangular conference table in a boardroom, their manager at the head of the table, with a projection screen behind her detailing graphs and figures of the year-end. 

“The Administration is announcing further budget cuts to the medical centre. Any ideas where we could trim some fat from?” The manager pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and looked down the table. 

“With the new initiative Adopt Don’t Shop it could come from the Fertility Clinic.” 

The manager pursed her lips in thought, “Hmm… Good thinking.” 

“Excuse me,” a whitecoat at the far end of the table raised her arm, “That is my clinic.” 

“You can be reassigned,” The manager smiled dismissively. “Any others?” 

“Excuse me,” the fertility whitecoat said, “You mean to suggest those that cannot conceive naturally will have no choice but to adopt?” 

“Or pay privately for fertility interventions, yes,” the Manager clicked a button and the projection behind her changed, “Where else could we slash some spending?” 

“Oncology. We talked about this before, but it’s time we settle it. Those with a stage 4 diagnosis or beyond need to be given fewer treatment options,” a whitecoat midway down the table said.

The manager nodded, “Just refer them to the pod?” 

“Yes. It would reduce oncology’s costs by -” 

“About 4 million,” the manager nodded, “Very well. Can the pod clinic handle an influx in users?” She turned to the whitecoat seated to her right. 

“We see about eight users per day as it is, I don’t know how we could increase that number,” his brow furrowed with concern. 

“Well, with the double pod surely we can accommodate more than 8?” 

“Yes, but the double pod is designed for couples, family members… We can’t put strangers into the pod together.” 

“Why not? Hold hands and comfort one another at the end,” the manager shrugged, “I would think that a desirable scenario for many of our pod users. And, in theory, pushes us up to 16 per day.” 

“Some user consultation would be advisable before rolling this out.” 

“We don't have the manpower or funds to launch a full blown survey. If they don’t want to go into it together, then put one in the single and one in the double.” 

“The double is larger, so it requires two canisters to be effective. It would cost us more running it as a single.” 

The manager groaned, “Fine. Double bookings only, then.”” 

PRESENT

Logan made her way to the communal canteen where she found her younger sister waiting for her at their usual table in the corner.

“So?” Kaia looked up, concerned. 

Logan sat down, “Stage 4 breast cancer, and it’s metastatic. I’m riddled with tumours. Explains why I can’t keep food down,” she huffed a weak laugh. 

Kaia dropped the glass of juice she was holding, shattering on the floor, as a cleaner hurried over, tidying it up silently, and her face crumpled.

“Came to ask if you’d help me break the news to Mom. Thought you could, you know, hold my hand, or whatever?” Logan reached forward and grabbed Kaia’s hand. 

Kaia took a deep breath, and patted her face dry with her napkin, “OK so what is the treatment?” 

Logan shook her head sadly, “Kai, I’m going into the pod.”

“WHAT? You - no. No. No.” Kaia started furiously shaking her head, wiping a dribble of snot from her nose with the napkin, “No. You’re not - there has to be something. Some way.” 

“Kaia, I saw my scan, OK? There’s no way. They said with chemotherapy they could maybe buy me six more months. What would those six months look like? The last three I’ve been exhausted and sick at least once a day. I can’t keep doing this,” Logan smiled sadly at her younger sister, “So will you help me tell Mom?” 

“What did Max say?” 

Logan shuffled in her seat, “Why would I tell Max? We uncoupled.”

Kaia’s eyes were wide, “Yes, but he loves you. You were together for seven years, Log, surely he should know?” 

Logan shrugged, “I hope Max finds love again, with someone who wants to have his child,” she reached into her back pocket, pulled out the pod brochure the whitecoat had given her, and handed it over to Kaia, “It’s all in here.” 

Kaia opened it up:

THE POD

Have you recently received a terminal diagnosis? 

Dreading side effects of your limited treatment options? 

Want to die with dignity and of sound mind? 

The pod could be the right choice for you. 

The pod was designed with dignity and comfort in mind. 

There were a few snapshot images of the pod depicting smiling users as they clambered inside. The button in the centre, putting the user in control of their own fate, allowing them to decide when the canister of liquid nitrogen would be released causing asphyxiation to occur within minutes. Kaia shuddered, looking at the elderly man lying down in the pod, his finger hovering over the button, a giant grin plastered on his face. 

Developed in 2222, the pod has been in use commercially for over 50 years now, with over 110,000 satisfied users. 

“Satisfied users?” Kaia raised an eyebrow.

“I suppose if you want to die, you’d be satisfied with death,” Logan laughed weakly. 

Available since 2274, the double pod now allows couples to use the pod together. 

There was an image of a larger pod, with the lid closed. Within was an elderly couple, lying on their backs, faces turned to each other, smiling lovingly. 

One user is the designated button presser, and two canisters of liquid nitrogen are released simultaneously. The process from start to finish takes approximately ten minutes. 

Single pod user: $ 20*

Double pod user: $ 35* 

*Subsidised by the Administration.

“I’ll help you tell Mom,” Kaia said quietly, reaching across the table to take her sister’s hand. 

TEN DAYS PRIOR

Max was in the apartment, preparing their dinner, glancing nervously at the clock wondering where Logan was. He had even gone to the botanist for flowers earlier, and arranged them - yellow daisies - in a vase atop the dinette booth table. She should have been home by now, and he was sweating profusely from nerves. He wanted to discuss removal of her implant, and family planning, something he’d been looking forward to ever since he first laid eyes on her in the canteen eight years ago. 

The doors slid open, and Logan stepped through. 

“You’re home,” he smiled from the kitchen - at the far end of their open plan living space. 

Logan dropped her bag on the floor by the doors, and trudged into the dining area, sliding into the booth, “Daisies,” she smiled. 

Ding. 

Max opened the oven and pulled out their meals - everything was prepackaged so he’d just placed the trays inside to heat - and dished them out before putting them on the table and sitting across from Logan. 

“Looks great, thanks,” Logan pulled her plate closer to her - some kind of protein smothered in gravy - but didn’t pick up her cutlery. 

“You’re not hungry?” 

“Not really. Sorry.” 

“So,” he laughed nervously, “How was your day?”

“Fine,” she yawned. “Yours?” 

“Good, yeah. I just - I just wanted to know what they said at the medical centre about getting your implant removed? Did you make a follow-up appointment?” 

Logan sighed audibly, “Max -” 

“I know you’re not as ready as I am. I know,” he reached across the table to take her hand, “But I know you’ll be an incredible mom, Log.” 

She pulled her hand away, “Max. I want to uncouple.” 

Max’s face fell, “What?” 

She reached across the table and took his hand again, “You’re going to be an amazing dad, Max. Just not to my children. I don’t think I’ll ever have children,” she gave him a sad smile. “I want you to be happy.” 

“Happy? You make me happy,” his face flushed with anger. 

“Do I? Do I make you happy Max? We haven’t had sex in months,” Logan crossed her arms over her chest defiantly. 

“You’ve not been feeling well.” 

“Max. Go find someone and have that kid you’ve been dreaming about for so long.” 

“Our kid. I had been dreaming about our kid.” He rose from the dining booth. “I don’t want to move on with someone else, someone else’s kid. I love you, Logan.” 

THREE WEEKS POST-DIAGNOSIS

Kaia arrived at Logan’s apartment unit, 15374, was labelled above the touch pad entry. She placed her palm against it, and the doors slid open. She entered, finding the place much the same even with Max’s stuff gone. 

“Log?” 

“In here.” 

She followed her voice to the bedroom at the back, and found Logan zipping up a suitcase atop her bed. 

“This is the last of Max’s things,” she gestured to the case, “Can you see that he gets it?” 

Kaia nodded solemnly, “Of course. Ready?” 

They made their way from the living quarters to the medical centre on the opposite side of the space station they called home. It was some distance to walk, and Logan was lagging with fatigue by the time they crossed the communal areas in the centre. 

“Let’s get the monorail,” Kaia put an arm around Logan’s shoulder and guided her to the monorail queue. Trains ran every five minutes, and the track went in one big loop around the perimeter of the space station. Within a few minutes of boarding, they’d be at the medical centre. 

“Alight here for medical centre, pharmacy, and gift shop,” the PA announced over the loudspeaker. Logan and Kaia rose, heading for the doors, Kaia keeping a hand on Logan’s elbow for support. 

They stepped out, and the bright white lights overhead caused Logan to wince, as they shuffled down the corridor through the medical centre looking for the pod clinic. When they arrived, they were greeted by a secretary wearing a starched white uniform, “Do you have an appointment?” she asked. 

“Logan Boone,” Kaia said quietly. 

“Take a seat, someone will be with you shortly, Miss Boone.” 

A few minutes later, a whitecoat emerged from a set of doors behind the secretary’s desk carrying a tablet, “Boone?” he asked looking down at his screen. 

Logan rose, “I’m here,” she called out. Kaia rose with her and they approached the whitecoat. 

“Follow me,” he led them to a small private room furnished with a sofa and a soft armchair, he took the chair leaving the sisters the sofa. Kaia sat pressed against Logan, reaching over to hold her hands. 

“We have recently had to make some changes to how the service is offered to users,” the whitecoat drawled, “We are only doing doubles now. So you will be paired with another user. It is our finding that this is a great comfort to users and enhances their experience in the pod.” 

“Wait - what? Who will I be in there with?” Logan straightened her back. 

“Users’ identities are confidential, Miss Boone.”

“How can you maintain confidentiality when they’re going to see each other in the pod?” Kaia said incredulously. 

“We no longer offer the single user service through the subsidised programme. If you’d like to reschedule for a single user, you can do so, but there is a waitlist - and the cost is significantly more.” 

“How much is it?” Kaia asked as Logan asked, “How long of a wait?” 

The whitecoat consulted his tablet, “For a single user it is three months before our next available private appointment. The cost is -” 

“Never mind. I can’t wait that long,” Logan nodded, “I’ll do the double today.” 

“What?” Kaia turned to her sister. 

“I have been throwing up my guts for months now. We had to take the monorail across the station just to get here. I can’t live like this anymore.” 

Kaia nodded in understanding, “What now?” she looked at the whitecoat. 

“I have a consent form for you to sign, then I’ll take you to the pod,” He looked at Kaia as he said, “Family does not go past this room. I can leave you now for your goodbyes.” He rose from the chair, handing Logan his tablet to digitally sign the form, then exited the room. 

Kaia threw her arms around Logan’s neck, “I love you,” she sobbed into her shoulder. 

“Take care of Mom,” Logan said quietly into her sister’s hair, “I love you. Whatever happens, I hope I see you on the other side.” 

Kaia nodded, blinking tears away, pulling back to look at her sister’s face, “We will.” She chewed her bottom lip nervously, “And Max, what do you want me to tell him?” 

“That’s your problem now, Sis,” Logan laughed weakly. She shook her head, “Tell him I love him. And - and tell him I’m sorry.” 

Kaia hugged her once more, then rose and left the room, at the door she said over her shoulder, “You’re my favourite person, you know.” 

“You’re mine,” Logan smiled, and tears silently fell down her cheeks. 

A few minutes later, the whitecoat returned and held the door open for her, leading her down the corridor to the pod room. Inside, she was shown to the double pod, and assisted inside where she was lying in a semi-reclined position. She heard a door open and someone else was led over to get into the other side, but she didn’t look at them, staring at the ceiling through the window above her face. The door closed over the other side, and she heard the person next to her sigh. 

An intercom system inside the pod sounded, and a whitecoat said, “One of you will need to to be the button presser.” 

Logan turned her head slightly to her right, and saw Max lying next to her. 

“Max?!” She exclaimed.

“I’ll press the button,” he said flatly. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“I could ask you the same thing.” 

“I’m dying, Max,” she said softly, “You have to get out of this thing!” 

“I love you, Logan,” he said quietly as he pressed the button.