What could go wrong?

What could go wrong?

The Choice

It was dark. The type of darkness that sent men running. A darkness that was impenetrable. A darkness that made Mother Happy.

...

It was 2100 when Mother first introduced her laws, the world was euphoric. No more crimes, no more unnecessary punishment. With poverty gone the world would be free. You could go out into crowded markets and not have to worry about having your money stolen so other poor, disgraceful souls could benefit from your loss. You could leave your doors unlocked overnight and have no chance of murder or theft from desperate families.

The world was to be perfect.

What could go wrong?

...

I heard a howl from the distance. This sector was abandoned, hollow and bleak. When people could not afford the ever-rising tax, the residents had either fled or died, death from famine or the collectors' sharp sceptres. Still though there were people hiding there, the lanterns that kept them warm were flickering in the still darkness.

I stumbled silently over to one pulling a knife out of my sleeve, my bare feet made no sound as I padded over. I could ransack their home, steal the food and escape. As I drew closer my eyes made out the figure of an old, hunched woman. The woman was settled over a fire. The smoke was billowing up in the air, a tornado of ash. An obvious tornado of ash.

The howl came again, but this time it was closer, oh she was clever, she had ‘pets’. Ravishing, hungry, bloodthirsty animals, starved to the point of viciousness, trained to the extreme. The woman turned her head slowly to my direction, a wicked smile on her face. She whistled once, commencing the show of violence.

Her ‘pets’ were on my tail. I scampered away, falling over a ledge to the sound of cackling. Looking up I spied an old well in the corner of my eye and decided that I would rather jump in and break all my bones on the fall or drown to death than get torn apart and eaten by the that woman. I was the only one supplying food for my younger brothers. Food was scarce in this quarter. The world had turned to desperate solutions, for me that was looting, for others it was the unmentionable.

I fumbled toward the well in the darkness, tripping over roots and rocks in the process. How I could see it, was inexplicable; in this blackness it was a beacon of hope. But I could see it - and it was an escape! I knew I was naive for going into this desperate search for food with every chance that I would not come out alive, my brothers would mourn me then starve to death as they had no source to rely on. I would rather take my chances than have no chance at all.

With a shuddering breath I leaped into the dark abyss ready to face my fate---

I could hear my cloak billowing behind me as I fell, it was too loud. In haste to unclasp it, my hand nicked at a section of the wall tearing a piece of my flesh, it seemed to be trying to grab me. That same section snagged my cloak, hugging it to the wall to trap me. I thudded loudly with a shrill cry as I hit the wall. There was a flash of light, and I was pulled into an impossibly long tunnel by the hem of my cloak. In desperation, I managed to remove it from my neck and fell like a stone to the mossy floor. I could not catch sight of my new attacker, but I could hear their own thump as they lost momentum and collapsed too.

I stood up and banged my head hard against the top of the tunnel, cursing I sprinted forward, I had lost all sense of direction, all I knew was that I had to get out of there, away.

I could not remember how long I had been running, but when I saw a crack of light at the end of the tunnel, I nearly wept in relief. Granted, it wasn't the same entrance as the one I came through, it was still an escape.

When I stumbled out of the tunnel, all I felt was relief, even though I knew I should turn back, but the approaching footsteps behind me prevented it. I was in Mother’s land. And the chances were that she already knew I was there.

The chip in my arm lit up, it was implanted when I was a child, used to track my tax. It was still on count down, meaning as I was under 16, it tracked how long I had till I had to start paying.

5 days, 16 hours, 23 minutes, 25 seconds.

24

23

I looked away, now this was activated anyone could access my location, I was in danger of discovery, danger of death. Poverty fugitives were always caught by the law. It was the law.

I looked around at my bountiful surroundings, the luscious evergreen hills speckled with colour, the old-style houses blended in with the modern ones. With envy, I wondered whether they had to pay as much tax as I would, they probably had to only pay a single unit for every billion they owned. Me: I would have to pay a billion for every single unit in my possession.

I padded forward on the soft grass, my bare feet relishing in the luxury.

Everything was perfect.

Disgustingly perfect.

Except for me.

I pulled my knife from my pocket and hid it in my sleeve. From where I ended up, I could see a town not too far. As I drew closer a chanting arose from the town.

“Mother, Mother, you do us so well, we work for you mother, so keep us in health.” It was sickening, their commitment to the matriarchy. How they could go around working as hard as possible to earn thousands of units only to have to give them away to Mother. The one they praised.

I sauntered into the town, trying to hide my limp. People looked at me with distain and unconcealed hate. I went to the town centre, a plan working its way through my mind, I had originally come here for a change of clothes, but now I wanted to prove Mother wrong. And I had every intention of doing so.

There was a plinth by the old war memorial for WW3 that had sent us all into this turmoil and allowed Mother into power. I stood on it and called for everyone to listen. The chanting at once stopped in blood-curdling synchrony and 1000 and 1 people turned to listen to me.

No words were needed for this, they would just turn off their hearing.

Out of my sleeve I slipped out the pen knife and held it up for them to see, glinting in the sunlight. Whispers broke out among the crowd, some people shouted but no one took a step to stop me. I pulled out my forearm showing everyone my count down.

5 days, 15 hours, 45 minutes, 34 seconds.

I wanted to make a change, to be certain to help stop the system do some action to stop this corruption. The words came to me, and I spoke to them, not caring now if they chose not to listen, “How do you care for the woman who makes your life a misery?” A few people cocked the heads, a sign that they could no longer hear me. “This chip in your arm is a farce.”

I pressed the blade down, the blood pooling on my skin and cut out my chip. It was smaller than I expected –no bigger than a grain of rice, and I felt no pain as the display flashed off and the chip popped out, smoothly, delicately. It was hard to believe this small thing that rested in the palm of my hand, red and sticky, held so much power.

For the first time.

I was free.

I could feel the life slipping from my veins, the small chip making a faint beeping sound as it announced quietly to the whole world of my death.

The death that brought me peace.

And Mother was a fool for not allowing us this freedom, this peace.

Or perhaps she was a fool for allowing it to come at such a cost.

The Law

A small man walked up to me, clutching a file. His beady eyes were darting from left to right. His footsteps exaggerated on the polished floor.

I sighed in annoyance, how many people had to die before the world realised just how I was helping them, just how all the generations of Mother were trying to help them. How many? “Another one?” I asked, already fearing the answer

“Yes Mother.” He squeaked, He feared me, I was the almighty of this world. Did he not realise how much power I really had. I had nothing, and anyone who believed I did was a fool.

All the armies that my predecessors had were gone they starved to death or had to get higher paying jobs.

I had often contemplated lowering the tax, maybe then there wouldn't be so many deaths. So many people who wanted their life gone for a better one. But each time I tried I was told I was a fool for even thinking of it.

The small man handed me the file. It was hollow.

“This time it was a 15yr old girl, she was 5 days from 16 and killed herself.” I lowered the file and placed it gingerly on my polished oak desk. My hands at once went to my face to cover my leaking mascara. He didn't take the hint and continued. “It was in HoldOaks. Thats the closest city to the abandoned quarters. We need to manage those.”

My chair scraped across the floor as I stood aggressively. I slapped him across the face. “How dare you speak about other humans like animals that need controlling. HOW DARE YOU!”

I am a fool I realised quite suddenly. I should have known better. I am a fool for letting the world put up with this.

It needed to change.

Now.