Love vs Logic

'Love is the aversion of logic' was pasted in bright red letters on the poster at the end of the concrete hallway, Jane was being led into the central systems of the officials to undergo 'the check', something as the cities billboards described that was akin to checking for lice. The hallways were narrow grey passage ways, built within the central building with systematic uniformity. Jane glanced around with subdued agitation, passing her hand over one another, she felt for the small scar she had under her left pinkie a hidden promise. she let her adrenaline filled thoughts pass to the second bearer of the scar, and her stomach tightened, Micheal. Jane was abruptly stopped by the official she had been tailing, pushing her against the wall, before she had time to ask questions her ears were filled with the violent vibrations. The producer of the noise was being carried legs flailing in the air by 2 guards. Her long umber hair was concealing her face, the source of the horrific retching sounds. The guards passed her and Jane could see the fresh red marks pressed along the child's exposed arms, she opened her mouth but the official, a pole like figure dressed in a tightly fitting black suit shot her a warning glare. Jane remained pressed against the wall until the little girl was carried into one of the adjoining rooms, the one next to that which Jane was heading towards. The child's scrawny frame and dark hair reminded Jane of her own and she felt that sharp dagger to the chest that comes when she is reminded of that small frail infant, who's knitted socks she keeps stashed in a hidden loose floorboard and who she has spent near 6 years since her taking looking for. 

Lola had been snatched out of her replacement families house this morning, the snake eyed women called Julie with her harsh cut blonde hair and thin lips stood in the bedroom door way as the men in dark uniforms filled into the room and pulled her out of bed, Julie tried to hide it but she had a thin lined smile carved across her face as she handed the crumpled letters into the officials hand. They had brought her down into windowless corridors papered with posters, Lola saw glimpses of thick red streaks and symbols such as hearts and roses and she thrashed within the tightening grip of the officials arms. She had been pushed through the corridor past a woman with a sharp bob, the standard for substitute mums or active breeders; individuality increases the chance of chemical connections. She thought the woman might step in and help her but she just stood there frozen against the concrete wall. 

Lola knew she would not be spared even before the official with the extremely receding hairline told her she was a 'contamination risk'. She hissed at him showing all her pearly white teeth and enjoyed with satisfaction when he started back away from her, as if it was catch-able, how little these robot logicians knew about the true feelings of love. They had attached her padlocked wrists to the metal desk. She was used to harsh treatment as one of the original 5s, those always deemed too far gone for repair, she had been allowed to stay with her mother until the late age of 5, she had been told the stories of the original children. She still had the memories of her mother's dark hair and soft brown eyes, she imagined much like her own. They have changed the law now, children are stolen at 3, old enough to not disrupt cognitive development but not old enough to have long lasting memories. They had taught her all this at the institution, drummed into her that she was damaged, they would have always found a way to discard her, of her whole generation. 

Jane sat in the cold white testing chair, the official clerks assured her that as long as she remained of logical mind she had nothing to fear, she had never undertaken the test before, it being only brought in the past year, an attempt to wean out those who would affect the orderly structure of society with there Oxycontin filled minds. The pads were cold as they placed the helmet onto her head, and stuck the wires to her temples, the machine whirled to life and the official pulled down a fold-able screen In front of her. 

Lola could hear the beeping of the machine in the neighbouring room, she had heard the stories of 'the check', whispered among the institution's gates, whilst the education officials stepped out for lunch break. The system used to be only for special measures to provide proof of those suspected of betraying the system, but now with the recent passing of law came the mandatory testing of all mating pairs or substitute parents. Lola believed this all to be a pointless endeavour as all the substitute parents she had been circulated through she had rarely seen a pair that had tolerated each other well, much less have a close bond enough to be infected by the disease. Yet she heard the stories of the machines, the whirling imagines of torture to entice an emotional response, the monitoring of brain waves, she used to think this was all lies stories made up by the other children to scare each other but listening to the patterned bleeps and the muffled sobs she had no doubt they were true. There was no doubt as she listened to the cries which grew clearer as the machine powered down that this woman would be joining her in the 'dunk-in'. 

Jane couldn't help it; she cried and sobbed and screamed as they flashed through the images, the pixels meshed to create realistic images, of Michael a reduced to a small crumpled and broken form huddled whilst the guards leather boots pummeled into his stomach. The small metal needles they placed into her flesh shot the bone snapping sounds deep into her nervous system and she felt each break. She watched as his face was contorted and the blood pooled from his grimaced jaw. She knew it wasn't real that Michael was safe at home waiting for her to return from work, she never told him of the check just kept living as they were. She knew if she had shown him the letter he would have planned to escape and whisked her and their 2 year old daughter away like he had been planning before her 3rd birthday. But she didn't want to run, she didn't want to leave before she found her, the beautiful little girl with her warm hazel eyes and her long brown hair, the little girl whose dimple pulled at her cheek on the left side of her face, the little girl who had been taken from her so young, 5 years old was too old they said, now they want to take them at 3. And so Jane had carried on like she always did for Michael, nothing had changed and she kept it that way because deep down she knew this was it, she would fail the check, a deep cold acceptance had creeped in and she was unable to shake it as the days grew closer on the calendar. 

The jingle of metal apparatus made its way down the corridor, 2 nurses accompanied the trolley, one entered Jane's door and one passed to the next. They began the process, Jane knew why they did it as she watched the vile of red blood collect. She didn't entirely disagree with the principle to benefit from the guilty, if only the guilt was truly justified. The nurse's small hands wrote in a blocked uniformity on the chart and crossed through boxes. She was a healthy woman of 38, she had many useful organs. 

"How often do you drink alcohol?"

The nurse had a cold gritty voice, and a harsh emotionless bedside manner, most likely adapted after years of assessing for harvesting. 

Once her blood, hair and urine were collected she was injected with a cold substance, and received no answer when she questioned what it was. Her value to society and in hand her rights had diminished now she was marked as infected, she was to them nothing more than a polluted bag of organs, all that remained of her usefulness lay in the extraction of stem cells and functioning systems. Her corrupted brain would be of no use, they might dissect it and study it to better learn the triggers for love, Jane's stomach was curdling. As soon as the nurse left she pushed her palms into her eyes and began to sob, how she wished she could hold her babies again, hold Michael again, rest his head in her lap and stroke the black fly-aways from his temples. He had been a good man to her and that is why she couldn't help but fall for him, she allowed this weakness to posses her and now she would be unable to save her children. 

Lucas hadn't managed to go to the stump to get Lola's last letter before he was carted off with his current substitute family to watch the 'dunk-in'. The circular arena benches soon filled with people hurrying in, he had a close view of the circular platform and the rows of officials situated behind. If he could see them clearly then they could see him. Lucas scanned with apprehension to find Lola, he knew she was due for a parental transfer soon and was anxious that it may not be within the same county. He scanned the rows of stern faces, groups lined together, rows and rows of forced connections. But he couldn't see her face among the settling crowd and a knot had built with his stomach, his replacement mum, a small woman with the mandatory blunt bob, gave him a half smile. She could have been a pleasant woman in another society but in this one she carried sadness in her eyes accompanied with a bitter acceptance that always gave Lucas chills. He knew that she, like many of the other adults, had accepted her fate. The main official began to talk, he was a tall dark man with long fingers who had an annoying habit of waving them about when he spoke, he began his speech as usual. 

"Dear citizens, we gather here today, for the harvesting of 2 gravely ill and afflicted people. Although they have served our society well, the chemical sickness you may know colloquially as 'love' has spread its poisoned roots among their brains"

He let out a deep sigh and looked away from the crowd, a feigned sympathy.

"Unfortunately that is not something we can repair". 

Lucas knew what he would say next before he launched into it, it had been the same speech for the 6 years he had been allowed to attend, children were permitted to attending the harvests as young as 5 years old and each one was carved deep into his skull along with images and sounds he was never likely to forget. 

"Love comes in all forms of pollution, it comes with the bonds between partners and eats away and the mechanical workings of a functioning mating pair, it comes between the threads of co-workers, friends, families, bonds built between those who see themselves as siblings and who value each other over those... They render the affected individual incapable of logical thinking, how can this benefit our society?"

When Lucas was 8 he watched his favourite teacher be dunked, he watched as his body writhed within the cold milky preserving solution, his crime was his bond with his students, his care for their welfare. That day was the day Lucas decided that the main official and the institution's rules had no grounds in his idea of a society. 

He continued to glance around as the main official continued his speech, his eyes settled onto Lola's fake family, they all sat back straight perched on the benches looking intently towards the platform, Lola was not with them. Lucas's stomach doubled over as he followed their unwavering gazes towards the 2 wheeled chairs being brought onto the platform. Lola must have been bed bound, too sick to come. 

He watched the two slumped figures as they were wheeled out . Their legs and wrists tied by ropes to the metal chairs. One of the figures was a woman, she wore the same chopped bob as Lucas substitute mum but her limbs were softer, she had most likely failed the check, for her he felt a pang of empathy. The other figure had a much smaller frame, her hair was long dark brown, her arms had bruises up their exposed flesh showing a long struggle. The nurses who wheeled them out pricked them with a needle drawing blood from each of their arms into a beaded jewel. They jolted upright. Her eyes were a wide vibrant brown, molten honey, he had always loved her her eyes looked so much like his, how it made him feel like she was really his long lost sister, he used to tell her in their letters, the girl who had kept him company with words passed and hidden in the stump of a tree, Lola. 

Jane woke with a sharp stab in her arm, her head felt heavy, foggy colours moved in front of her, blurred shapes began to take form. She attempted to stand but her arms and legs were being held down by something heavy, the shapes stopped moving and the world solidly came into view. Rows and rows of benches curved, cold metal pushed into her wrists, and her ankles tied. She was at the harvest, all her anger and pain had left her body. She knew this was her fate, she accepted it, there was nothing she could do now. Again the small sobs of a child grabbed her attention, she swung her head round to the right, the girl's thin body spasmed as she pushed and pulled against her restraints. She held so much force inside that tiny body, she had so much life left to live, life they were taking from her. The girl turned her face frantically towards Jane "help me" she cried. 

"Lola?..."

"Lola...Lola" Jane was screaming now, those brown eyes, that small rounded nose that mirrored her own, those fragile limbs that had only 6 years ago been present in her own.

"Lola.. baby.." She turned to the nurse who had moved off the platform.

"Let me out.. You can't do this! Please, she's just a child!"

"You can't kill her" Jane felt it inside if her break, hot rage poured out the cold iced coating of acceptance burned to dust in the eyes of her daughter and she thrashed and pulled at the bonds, she toppled her chair over and managed to pull free from the restraints. 

She was so close, one hand tugging at the strap of Lola's arm, they were nearly free, she used it and channeled the rage. But they didn't stop her, as she pulled the second restraint free, they didn't grab her and she began to untie Lola's legs. They all stood and watched and she pulled Lola off the chair and held her close, she felt how weak with exhaustion her poor child body had become, how much fight she had given.

"Mum" Lola looked up at her, and joy swam through Jane's whole body. She pressed a firm Kiss to Lola's forehead and raised her right foot off the ground to start walking off the platform. A sharp clank was heard from her right; she could no longer feel the floor. 

Lucas watched as it unfolded, motionless, paralysed as the screaming woman desperately tried to save Lola, he heard every wail as if it was his own, and he watched, with dry eyes and a flat face as they were dunked into the vat of milky fluid. But within Lucas felt an active change, a deeper darker feelings brewed, a need for violence, necessity, urgency and rage. Lucas did not realise he had moved to pick up the rock before it had left his hand, he didn't not realise he had channeled his anger and force into it until the blow hit the main official squarely in the head.