The Omittance

Upon her entrance through the sleek archway, Evie Collins earned a delighted giggle from her towheaded six-year-old over the chrome countertop. Marie beamed from her silver stool and Evie crossed the kitchen in hasty steps to steal her into a tight hug.

“Ah! There she is.” Charles’ copper eyes glinted and stretched at the corners. The stay-at-home dad kissed his wife with his spatula still in-hand. “Happy Birthday,” he whispered adoringly.

“Daddy… actually, we got you… a present!” interrupted Marie, speaking in her way that took a little longer than everyone else.

“Oh, did you?” Evie pinched her precious chin. “What’d you get your mom?” she asked Charles. He waved it off—in that moment, he didn’t care that she shared a birthday with his mother.

She set Marie down, inciting the child to race and hand her the rubicund Olive’s Jewelry case. The satin felt smooth in her hands. Inside, lay a gilded locket on a long chain, in the dainty shape of a heart. With her thumb, she flicked the clasp apart and discovered a sweet, tiny photo of the miniature human she had created. Her heart fluttered like a butterfly, and she squealed a few appreciations. Just as Charles secured the chain around her neck, the piercing sound of the doorbell rang throughout the house.

“That’d be Natalie.” Evie huffed as she said it. Charles had hired her, insisting she was perfectly capable handling needs such as Marie. “What if she says something…” she whispered urgently but digressed.

The adolescent skirted around the corner and smiled politely. A recognizable news theme punctured the silence. “Researchers claim there is evidence from an ongoing omittance experiment that launched in early 2376, indicating that other factors may be necessary for humanity’s continued survival.”

They sincerely tried their best to make the exterminations sound as diminutive as they could. Dozens of ads were propelled into living rooms, illustrating the scorched earth—the sun was too hot, and there were no longer enough resources to sustain the world’s population. Omittance, it was called, began only with those too decrepit, later evolving to others also deemed unsustainable. They lived a long life, they said, it’s painless. You won't even remember them.

Evie switched the television to the Time Travel Network, where Charles would undoubtedly spend an hour ruminating on where he wanted to visit. She hugged Marie once more and thanked them both again. She couldn’t wait to come home from work that night.

Her chocolate heels clacked on the polished tile. The hallways were lined with impenetrable windows and Evie briefly watched murky debris drifting by before reaching the spare room that stored their portal elevator. She punched in the code for her home office into the directory and felt a familiar surge in her stomach, liken to dropping from a great height. It was just every one of her molecules detaching within seconds and reforming inside the Administration of Sustained Humanity, IT Department.

Evie stepped onto her floor, with dozens of others arriving in the rows of P.E.s and advanced along the sleek route to her department. Upon her arrival, she noticed several cautious glances from her colleagues. Entering her ultramodern office, she was immediately greeted by a towering man in sharp pinstripes. His taut, rubbery skin was stretched into a toothy smile. The sight of the mannequin-esque figure startled Evie. He had two even larger figures standing behind a few steps on either side in their black, microalloy suits that covered their face. She knew them. They were aptly nicknamed the Shadows.

“Mrs. Collins!” he said, too pleasantly. “Good morning.” He paused and smiled again.

Beneath her furrowed brow, her eyes darted from the skeleton-like man to the guards behind him. “Hello…” She didn’t bother with formalities.

“My name is Lloyd Harvey; I work in one of the upper departments here. I was wondering if I could trouble you for a private word?” The glint in his eye told her that it was less of a request than a demand. The ominous miasma he created, coupled with the unwavering cheer he projected disturbed Evie; her skin prickled. Mr. Harvey noticed her discomfort.

He placed himself behind her desk, relaxing with one leg crossed over his knee. One shadow closed the door, the other closed the blinds. “Please sit.” He gestured to the glossy armchair across from him.

“Let’s get to know each other a bit better. As I said, my name is Lloyd, you are Evie Collins and you have worked for us here as the Director of IT for nine years now. There, see? We are not strangers anymore.”

“I still don’t know where you’re from.” Evie mustered. Mr. Harvey’s extended smile twitched as if a momentary glitch in a complex system.

“I come as a friend from Emergency Sustainability. The ASH has been introducing new qualifications that are of upmost importance. Are you aware of these changes?” Her clammy skin crawled with apprehension. “Mrs. Collins, when was the last time you brought your daughter to a physician?”

Marie’s cognitive inhibition had surfaced when she left her hand resting on a hot stove when she was two years old. Physicians were risky. Some were defectors, but most reported you. The somersaults in Evie’s stomach in that agonizing moment were revolting.

“She’s a healthy child, she hasn’t needed an exam.”

“But a yearly physical exam is standard, is it not? We want the healthiest of our children, correct?” They wanted the healthiest of children.

“I’m a good mother…” she choked on her swelling throat.

The expression on Mr. Harvey’s face was that of deepest condolences. “As I’m sure you are. Still, I think an exam would prove vital. Why don’t you retrieve her and come to the Department Infirmary, say one hour?” He smiled that sneer again, stood and excused himself, his Shadows, and left her in anguish. The only sound in the shadowy room was the sound of her pounding heartbeat and unsteady breath.

A thousand thoughts rushed through her mind, all of which led to the same conclusion. If Evie brought Marie to the physician, they would notice the petite eyes, the decelerated speech. They wouldn’t see her lively glee in the mornings when she watched an old movie about dogs or her love of hot baths. Her sunken heart jolted when she imagined bringing Marie to be prodded and questioned—to ultimately be deemed unsustainable. She imagined Marie's face dissolving from her memory forever.

Her heavy eyes wandered to the muted television that stretched across one of the walls of her office. It played a familiar commercial; advertisements illustrating glossy images of lush Pre-Mexico, long before the waters dried. It promised experiences of long-departed tropical relaxation. Evie’s brain illuminated. Part of her duties was signing off on Recreation requests, and she remembered approving Joyce to visit Pre-Greece this afternoon with her husband and teenage daughter. Her heart quickened again, this time with a frenzied optimism. Could she?

She smoothed her skirt and avoided the penetrating gazes when she stiffly retraced her steps back to the communal portals. The expansive room was hauntingly empty now that everyone had settled into their offices. Evie hurriedly stepped in and did a quick perimeter check before entering her home code and evaporating. Materializing again at home, she kicked off her shoes and sprinted down the elongated hallways into the parlor. Marie’s elated squeal caused Natalie, who was opening a synthetic yogurt packet, to startle and look over the jar quizzically.

“You can go home Natalie. Where is Charles?” Evie huffed between heavy breaths. Natalie stared back at her with large eyes.

“He went to his mother’s.”

Of course, he did. She and his mother shared a birthday.

She scooped Marie into her arms and rushed past the bewildered nanny. She repeated her quickened path down the passages. She had been on Recreation every year in her marriage, so she had memorized the portal code to the Travel Division. She held a whimpering Marie close to her chest as the portal suspended them both and they landed in a room lined with holographic screens highlighting ancient continents. Evie whispered to Marie to keep her face hidden. A pleasant gentleman sat behind a chrome countertop.

“Hello.” He greeted them softly. “Are you traveling with us today?” He peered over his half-moon glasses at their bare feet. She realized belatedly that she had not stopped to put her shoes back on.

“Yep!” Evie mustered tensely. “We plan on being barefoot on the beaches the whole trip. She’s a bit tired from being up this early.” She explained the child pretend-sleeping on her shoulder. The employee smiled kindly.

“Name?”

“Joyce Pierce.”

He typed on the screen and pulled up the reservation. His brow wrinkled. “I have it here you and your husband are traveling with your daughter, Ophelia, fifteen years of age?” He looked at the young child on her hip.

“No, I’m sorry that must be a mistake. My daughter is five.” She lied, hoping Marie wouldn’t defensively correct her age. “My husband couldn’t make it— it will be just us traveling.” The ironic truth in her lie caused a wave of emotion, though she composed herself. The eccentric gentleman peered inquiringly at them for a few prolonged moments. He was visibly skeptical, but nonetheless typed the necessities into his holo-screen, handed Evie a special code, and a round door unsealed to their left. He gestured to the illuminated doorway, wishing Joyce and Ophelia Pierce safe travels. Evie’s heart thumped in her chest. She set a now-alert Marie at her feet. The speed of light slowed with every occupant, so regulation is that travel pods allowed only one guest to travel at a time. Evie squatted to meet Marie’s wide blue eyes.

“Remember when we watched that old movie? When the wizard taught you about bravery?” she whispered, holding her tiny hand tight. A small grin betrayed her fearful expression.

“…being brave is being scared and doing it anyway…” Her delicate voice recited slowly.

“I need you to be brave, my sweet girl.” Her eyes filled with hot tears. “Mommy is going to be right behind you.”

An aching feeling tore at her chest as she sealed the thick door; her fingers shook as she punched in the code that activated the oval that hummed gently, and Marie’s cherubic face dissolved to nothingness. Evie stood in the poignant silence. It was the first moment in the chaos that she could truly swallow the magnitude of what she’d done.

A deafening blast and searing hot poker in her chest interrupted her thoughts and sent her crashing to the metallic ground. The noise rang loud in her ears, and through fuzzy vision, she saw Mr. Harvey shaking his head disappointedly over her crumpled body. Her cloudy memory flashed to her mother, alive, baking cookies— to Marie painting shapes, splashing in the bath, nibbling her tiny fingers— to her and Charles, cackling in front of the simulation fireplace. Her imagination wandered foggily to Marie, now in Pre-Greece, on the white shores that kissed the blue ocean—darkness prickled at the corners of her eyes, seizing her vision and leaving her still.

***

The shoppes in the Transnational Shopping District were bustling the day that Charles Collins finally arrived to buy his mother a last-minute gift. He was fortunate that his digital assistant had reminded him it was her birthday that day. His career selling artificial intelligence kept him from visiting anywhere outside the city very often. Drifting through the crowd, his eye was caught by a neon sign. Charles was notoriously terrible at finding gifts for any of his previous girlfriends and his mother wasn’t easier. He usually settled on expensive jewelry.

The electric tempo played faintly through the store speakers. He shooed an associate who approached him and leaned forward to peer at the digital display. Examining the touchscreen catalog, his eyes drifted over a golden heart trinket before eventually settling on a pair of emerald earrings he decided she’d like better.