Nascence

The glowbug clung to the cold steel of the wall, shining its faint light on Shayla, as she twisted and turned in her bunk. Nobody slept well in the Heart. It was freezing at night and boiling by day. Every noise reverberated from the hard steel of the floor and walls, with no rugs or hangings to soften the sound.

Everyone in the Heart was out for themselves. You could only keep what you were able to defend, so most joined a gang, to protect what little they had. It was an uneasy collective of rival groups, forced into proximity in the heart-shaped chamber.

Shayla had no gang. Her only possessions were a threadbare blanket, the clothes on her back, and the heart-shaped locket all inhabitants of the Heart were required to wear. Her only confidante was the glowbug. If the elites of Nascence knew one had bonded with a genetically compromised citizen, their heads would spin. Once bonded, glowbugs were unswervingly loyal to their symbionts, using their lethal defence mechanism – poison, squeezed from the pores of their skin – to defend them. In the Heart, where everything could be stolen and possessions were everything, the loyalty of a glowbug was a prize above all others.

“Hey Critter,” Shayla said, rubbing bleary eyes. Critter was her name for the glowbug. Critter recognised the greeting and returned it – a warm glow of affection, transmitted through the symbiont bond.

Like everyone else in the Heart, Shayla was genetically compromised. Every inhabitant had a cardiovascular condition, some more serious than others, but any weakness brought exclusion from society at large. Shayla didn’t know what her condition was, and had only ever known life in the Heart. Her understanding of the outside world was built on the tales of older folk, whose ailments had only shown themselves in later life, and who had been secreted away for ‘treatment’.

A century ago, humanity had suffered a medical near-extinction event. The leading scientists who survived had formed a new society – Nascence, the second birth of the human race. Fifty years after that, Nascence had announced its great breakthrough – total genetic control, allowing them to redirect the development of a foetus, where it tended towards disease. They called it Genetic Balancing, and announced the birth of a new era, in which nobody would die of inherited physical weaknesses.

But Nascence had a problem. Despite the work of the world’s best scientists, a small number of people were born with inherited conditions every year. The presence of genetically compromised citizens undermined trust in the system, and Nascence wanted to erase any semblance of doubt.

As a matter of course, all children were tested within moments of birth, but instead of going home to their families, genetically compromised children were whisked away to facilities like the Heart, where others with similar conditions were housed. The parents were lied to, and if necessary silenced, in order to protect the state. Babies were raised by resident den-mothers, but only until they could fend for themselves. From the age of eight, Shayla had been on her own.

Life expectancy in the Heart was low. Each day, Nascence had them perform hard, physical labour. The outside of the Heart had to be gleaming, the gardens immaculate, so that Nascence could show impressive images to the world, claiming the huge structure was a sculpture, celebrating humanity’s triumph over heart disease. Nascence controlled all airborne traffic, keeping curious eyes at an obscuring distance, and rigorously enforced the dominance of state media. There were other structures in what Nascence called Victory Park, visible to Shayla from the gardens. The nearest was several miles away, shaped like a giant brain. One of the older folk had told her it housed people with mental health conditions. Other structures were visible in the distance, but Shayla couldn’t determine their outlines.

Shayla knew that Nascence was slowly killing them, exposing them to work that exacerbated their conditions. Barely a week went by without someone keeling over in the heat of the day. Nascence was determined to eradicate their weaknesses from the gene-pool, but lacked the appetite for a massacre.

All around the chamber, narrow, horizontal hatchways snapped open. “Rations,” Shayla said, rising from her bunk. The glowbug leapt from the wall and landed on her shoulder. Breakfast was a rectangular chunk of dried nutrients, and water was available at the taps, three times a day. Shayla reached one of the taps and drank her fill of reddish, rusty water. She was going to need it.

An alert sounded, flat and crackling. Sliding her rations into a pocket, Shayla was the first outside when the single, heavily armoured door freed itself from the floor with a loud, metallic clang and rolled noisily into a recess within the wall. Shayla stepped outside into searing heat and for a moment she was alone. The inhabitants of the Heart never got to meet other people. Everything was automated, from the ration hatches to the drones, flying low over the gardens and monitoring their movements.

Shayla found a secluded spot and began to weed, working her way into the undergrowth where she could escape the attention of the drones. Sinking to the ground, her thoughts began to whirr. She’d planned her escape meticulously, learning what she could about the land between the Heart and the dead zone – a broad swathe of rubble and soil, patrolled by genetically enhanced dogs known as Bonehounds; vicious brutes bred for violence, each the size of a small horse.

Bonehounds had an acute sense of smell, which meant she was going to need Critter. Glowbug venom was enough to stop a man’s heart in moments, and Shayla could only hope it was equally devastating to Bonehounds. There was no way to be sure, but even if she was torn to pieces, it was better than living out the rest of her life in the Heart.

Shayla waited till the day was done and the alarm sounded, calling for the return of the workers. She remained hidden, her heart beating swiftly as the door clanged shut. There was no headcount to worry about. Between the drones, the Bonehounds and the perimeter wall, Nascence believed there was no feasible means of escape. They were right, under normal circumstances, but Critter changed everything.

As dark fell, and the inhabitants of the Heart were locked up for the night, the drones drifted into the distance. Crawling out from the undergrowth, Shayla took one last look at the Heart, gleaming in the light of external lamps, and shuddered. Turning her back, she moved through the garden on swift, silent feet. She reached a tree, growing near the boundary of the garden. Her plan was simple – scale the trunk, leap from the highest branch she could, and grab onto the barbed wire atop the wall. Shayla climbed the trunk and flung herself into space, grabbing the wire and lacerating her hands, but she held on. Gasping in pain, she dragged herself over the wire, which pierced her in a dozen places. Crying out, Shayla lost her grip, tumbling to the ground on the other side. She landed in a heap, bruising herself badly, but nothing was broken. Bleeding and in pain, she moved away from the wall. Critter landed softly on her shoulder, concern flooding through the bond.

Shayla lost track of time as she crossed the terrain. She clambered into a deep, wide ditch, and scaled the muddy walls on the far side – a dry moat to keep the Bonehounds on the far side. Bonehounds! Shayla stopped, afraid for the first time. Out there in the dark, she could hear the thudding of colossal paws, and the snort of huge, killer beasts. In an explosion of movement, a gigantic creature came boiling out of the dark, snarling and drooling. Shayla froze, seized by primal fear. Its muscles bunching, the Bonehound pounced. Shayla dove aside, its jaws snapping only inches from her skin. The Bonehound spun, growling, and from the dark came the pounding of many paws, as dozens more hounds raced toward their prey.

Critter leapt from her shoulder and landed on the beast’s leg. Poison gleamed wetly across her body within moments. The beast collapsed and began to writhe.

“Critter!” Shayla cried, fearful the glowbug had been crushed. Every vein on the Bonehound’s body stood out as it twisted and convulsed, bloody spittle frothing from its maw. With a final, rigid contortion, the beast died. Beyond it, Shayla could hear the whine of terrified hounds as they fled.

Shayla scoured the ground for Critter, desperate to find her. There! The glowbug had jumped clear of the stricken hound. Even as she watched, the pores of the glowbug’s skin sucked the venom within until she was dry, and Critter leapt to her shoulder once more.

Shayla rushed across the dead zone, reaching the other side. The final perimeter wall reared before her. It hadn’t been maintained in years. Shayla used cracks in the concrete to scale the five-meter barrier, moving quickly over the top, and clambering down the other side.

Shayla was confused. Was she free? The land around Victory Park was barren and uninhabited – an undeveloped no-man’s-land, putting further distance between Nascence’s citizens and the genetically compromised. She struggled on, fearing there was no outside world to be found, until she reached a river – wide and shallow, but flowing swiftly. Shayla had never seen a river, and was frightened by the sheer volume of water, but she had to cross. Wading through the shallows, she gasped as cold water rose above her thighs and slapped against her belly. It was hard to keep her feet, and at the deepest point the water rose to her shoulders, but she pressed on to the far side, where she climbed a raised bank of earth.

Shayla stopped. Before her was a sprawling neighbourhood of warmly lit, spacious homes, each with an expansive garden planted with shapely trees and blossoms. Wide lawns lay verdant under the gentle rain of sprinklers. The streets were lit, and gleaming cars slumbered on generous driveways. She had heard of these things but never seen them. It was another world from the one Shayla knew.

Making her way down the slope, Shayla was conscious of the dirt, embedded in her skin. Her nails were ragged, her thick, black hair a mass of filthy clumps. Knowing she didn’t belong, Shayla reached the first garden, sneaking round the back of the house and hiding in the shadows against the wall. She heard the sound of voices within, and snuck a peak through a nearby window. A family were gathered, watching a state broadcast. A woman was speaking. Her clothes were colourful and clean, her hair immaculate, and she wore a permanent smile.

“Today is a day of celebration! Nascence is proud to announce the fifty-year anniversary of its greatest breakthrough. Since that great and glorious day, no child has been born with a genetic defect.”

Shay bridled with sudden rage. Children arrived at the Heart all the time. Only days ago, a new-born had been delivered to a den-mother, but had sickened and died within hours.

“In recognition of this achievement, we are announcing a new National Holiday, to be celebrated by all citizens of Nascence. We are Proud, We are Pure, We are Perfect.”

Within the house, the family intoned the final words like a religious benediction. Shayla’s anger intensified to a white-hot rage. These people didn’t even know she existed! Fury hardened into determination. She had no allies other than Critter, and no resources, but she wasn’t going to let the government get away with it. Ripping the heart-shaped locket from her neck, she almost cast it away, but stopped herself. The locket was evidence of what had happened to her, and though she longed to be free of it, she swore there and then to keep it on her person until she took her revenge, and exposed Nascence’s crimes to the world.