Cured (2 page)

“
Good morning
Avery.” The Wall in the Cinema Room startled me as its loading
screen filled the wall. 
A menu flashed onto the screen and I
scrolled through: School, WallDrobe, In-room Shopping, Internet,
Dining, Phoning, Movies, Gaming, NormWatch… Finally I reached
Television. I stopped scrolling and the screen displayed a
televised image.

An endless crowd of people gathered, singing
in a loud monotone. They all had their arms above their heads with
their hands forming a triangle shape, thumb tip to thumb tip, index
fingertip to index fingertip, palms facing outwards. This was the
symbol, the symbol of the mountain, the symbol of the Primes, the
symbol of respect for my superior life. I shuddered at the eerie
image and sat down on one of the uncomfortably firm red sofas that
filled the family Cinema. Mother clip clopped into the room and
perched on the side table next to me,

“Just in time Avery Rose, the ceremony is
about to begin.” She spoke as though I had a choice in attending. I
glowered and Mother reached over out of habit to smooth my brow,
“No scowling dear, we want to stay smooth, remember?”

Once she finished smoothing my scowl, she
subconsciously let her fingertips wander over her own
silicon-smooth forehead, and then pressed the service button on the
sofa’s armrest.

“I need two Youthness teas, no milk, no
sugar. Make it quick.” She said into the intercom speaker. I
groaned. I hated the anti-aging, soap-flavoured beverage that
Mother insisted I drink daily.

A Norm maid bustled into the Cinema a few
minutes later with a delicate china teapot and two matching teacups
on a silver tray. She dropped into a deep curtsy before presenting
my mother with her cup. The beverage was bright orange, almost
fluorescent, and smelled strongly of cleaning products. Mother
drank at least ten cups a day, to keep wrinkles from blemishing her
glassy-smooth face.

“I am eighteen Mother. I don’t need this.” I
winced in disgust as the scent of disinfectant overcame my
senses.

“Never too early to start de-aging,
sweetheart.”

I rolled my eyes at Mother, but grinned at
Louisa, my favourite Norm, who had handed me a cup with a kindly
wink. I set the cup down, with no intention of tasting its
miserable contents, whilst Mother took a sip of hers.

“Norm. What temperature is this tea?” Mother
always referred to the help as ‘Norm’. Louisa frowned, her face was
not stretched tight with BeautySerum, and so frowning was still a
possibility. Her eyes wrinkled in the corners as she braced
herself, anticipating a threat from my mother. She knew she was in
trouble.

“I let the boiled water sit for two minutes
as you prefer, Madam Optime” Louisa tried, in a small voice. Her
head was bowed, and she looked at Mother’s feet as she spoke.
Mother let out a cruel giggle and sneered.

“That is a lie Norm. If you had done such a
thing, my lips would not have been scalded. They are blistering as
we speak.”

I looked at Mother’s mouth and saw nothing
wrong with it. Then, to make a point, I swallowed my entire cup of
tea in one gulp before placing the cup back onto Louisa’s serving
tray.

“
That was
delicious Louisa, thank you so very much!” I mimicked Mother’s
sugary tone. “And, it was the
perfect
temperature.”

Louisa’s lips
twitched into an almost-smile, and her dull brown eyes nervously
met mine for a moment, before she lowered her head
again.

“I will go and make you another cup right
away Madame Optime.” She murmured and began to shuffle out of the
room.

“Don’t bother!” Mother called after her. “I
cannot bear one more sip of your poorly brewed tea.”
I glared at
her for being so insufferably rude, but Mother turned back to the
screen and plastered her scary smile-thing on her face. 


“Watch this, my pretty petunia.” She cooed.
“It is about to get exciting.”

Chapter 2

The volume
was cranked up as high as our Cinema would allow, and with the
screen filling the entire wall, it was difficult to avoid watching
the ceremony proceedings. The camera showed a tall, slender woman
standing on a large stage in front of a vast crowd. Her hair was
pale silver and slicked back off her face in a tight bun. Her
features were sharp and she had no wrinkles to be seen. If
BeautySerum weren’t the oldest trick in the book nobody would guess
that she was almost a hundred. Regina Quaint, Spokesperson of
Olympia, cleared her throat into the microphone with a slight
‘ahem’. The crowd before her was already dead silent.

A blackbird flew low over the crowd,
squawking loudly, but everyone stood stock-still. Only one boy
looked up, his action very obvious amongst the otherwise frozen
statues that were his peers. The boy followed the bird with his
gaze as it swooped and dipped around the crowd, until it finally
soared away into the distance.

I recognized Theodore at once. My childhood
friend had not changed a lot. Obviously he had grown, probably
standing above six foot now, but his dark brown hair was scruffy as
ever and the same rebellious strand dropped in front of his left
eye. His eyes had changed though. Before they were always wide with
interest and awe, their hue a deep chocolaty shade. But as the
camera zoomed in on the crowd, panning the Norm audience, I could
see that his eyes were now dull, harsh, closer to black than
brown.

Mother saw me focus in on Theo; she had
always hated him when we played as children. She had insisted that
I go and find some nice Descendant kids to play with instead of
hanging around with our Norm gardener’s son.

She pointed at Regina in an attempt to draw
my attention from Theo, “Look Avery Rose. Regina is going to
speak.”

Still, I couldn’t seem to tear my eyes away
from Theodore, who, once our gardener’s scrawny son was now a very
handsome man with broad shoulders and strong arms. I watched him so
closely that I could see his neck muscles tensing and releasing. He
was nervous. Of course he was, today his life would change forever.
I felt sick to my stomach with guilt. Guilty that he was affected
by this disgusting tradition whilst I sat and watched him
suffer.

The blackbird came back into the frame and
resumed its continuous swooping over the crowd. Theo’s eyes were
the only pair that took any notice. He had always loved birds.

My mind reeled back to the summer afternoons
when Theo and I would sit in my garden whilst his father worked.
Norms were encouraged to bring their children to their workplaces.
Usually, talent was hereditary, so chances were that children would
eventually enter the same Field their parents. And if the child had
already visited their Field, and worked a little in their parents’
jobs, then they would be better employees once they had been
Cured.

Theo used to teach me the names of birds, and
we would practice copying their calls. I remembered when we found a
tiny baby blackbird that had fallen from its nest in our Oak tree.
Theo was so gentle with it. He had taken off his shirt and scooped
the bird up, coddling it in the fabric. He asked me to get a
syringe from my house, and some plain biscuits and warm water. I
was in awe as he crushed the biscuits into a powder before mixing
the dust with warm water and using the syringe to feed the tiny
creature.

When his father had told him it was time to
catch the train back to their home in the Fields, I had quickly
dashed inside, searching for the opened packet of biscuits to give
Theo. After turning the cupboard inside out I had heard my mothers
notorious tapping foot from behind me. I turned to see her holding
the packet of biscuits. I had known I was in big trouble. Mother
already hated Theodore, but I never got along with the other kids
on the mountain so she reluctantly allowed us to interact for a few
hours each day. This time I had gone too far. I had broken the
rules. Not only was I socializing with a member of the Fields, but
also I was sharing our food with him. A crime that could not be
forgiven. Food was for Primes, not Norms.

I had reached for the biscuits that Mother
held, gingerly, not expecting to succeed. Sure enough, just as I
was about to take the packet from her grip, she tossed the biscuits
over my head and into the trash. She grabbed my ear, hard, and I
cried as she dragged me up the stairs to my bedroom. The poor bird
was going to die. Mother pushed me into my room and told me to
think about my actions.

Then, as she turned to leave, she had said in
a cold voice, “I hope you said your goodbye, Avery Rose, because
you will never see that boy again.”

And she had been right. I had seen neither
Theo nor his father since that day. Every morning, without fail for
the next month, I had woken up and run straight to my window, where
Theo usually waited for me and waved me down to play, but he was
never there. I asked Mother about him numerous times, until she
finally told me that Theo’s father was no longer needed to tend our
garden. I had screamed at her. I had cried in my room for days. I
even tried to give her the silent treatment. After a further month
of tantrums and arguments, it became clear that Theo wouldn’t be
coming back. Mother had won. She always won.

“Avery Rose, watch the screen,” Mother’s
trill voice brought me back to the present.

Regina petted her sleek hair and tucked a
non-existent stray strand behind her air. She blinked her large
silver-lined eyes, fluttering her unnaturally long eyelashes and
causing the gemstones embedded in her eyelids to twinkle. I wiped
my sweaty palms on the sofa.

“Ahem,” Regina said in her impossibly smooth
tone, “I would like to extend a warm welcome to my dearest friends
on Olympia, who will be watching the ceremony from their homes.”
She scanned the crowd of Norms who remained dead still.

“Applaud in respect for the Primes,” she
ordered, and the crowd began to clap mechanically. Regina attempted
a smile, which was so well rehearsed that it almost appeared
genuine.

“Well,” she carried on, “I see we have a
number of Norms to Cure today. My sincerest congratulations to
you.” Another pregnant pause as the Norms wondered what they were
being congratulated for. “Right, well, let’s get under way
then.”

The screen
cut away from Regina and turned to a news presenter sitting at a
desk. He was a young-faced man who was, in reality, ninety years
old. His eyes were eerily absent, with no iris, but rather an
oversized pupil that filled the majority of his eyeball. His high
cheekbones were accentuated by his exaggerated grin which was
packed to bursting point with blindingly white teeth. 


“
Aaaaaaaaand
welcome, people of Olympia, to the ninety eighth Curing Ceremony.
Today we have just fewer than two hundred lucky eighteen year olds
ready to be Cured, and ready to determine their future. No doubt
they are jumping and jittering with excitement! So whilst they get
ready I will run you through the Curing process just in case you
have forgotten since last year!”

The screen
returned to the ceremony as Regina stepped away from the microphone
and a huge screen flickered to life behind her. A film began to
roll and my mother wriggled in excitement. I felt ill.

Chapter 3

“
Before the
year 2020,” a deep voice boomed out, “Everyone chose his or her own
life paths. Medical geniuses were wasted on sporting careers, and
those gifted with literary minds opted to work in labour jobs, thus
wasting precious natural ability. Too much choice left our
population in a state of confusion. People working in the wrong
industry, and too many opinionated individuals led to
disagreements, tension, and eventually the eruption of the third
World War. The war was unprecedented. It destroyed our entire
planet, except for a single country. Formerly known as New Zealand,
the only remaining body of land has been rebuilt over the years,
restored and improved to a state greater than ever
before.

“Then the great Zaaben Mars, founder of the
Primes, saviour of the world, invented The Cure. The miniscule pill
that has singlehandedly resolved all the planet’s issues and led us
to our current superior state. The Cure enhances the strongest part
of the receiver’s brain to a huge extent, whilst marginally dulling
the rest of the brain to allow for the enrichment in one section.
Thus, those who were naturally gifted at literacy, become hugely
advanced in this area, and are able to be grouped along with all
other literary minds, where they now live in one community,
producing the best literary work the world has ever seen.”

I couldn’t help but snort with disbelief. The
presenter had said that the Cure would “marginally dull” the rest
of the brain, but it was a well known fact that the pill left all
but the enhanced section of the brain practically dead. He made the
Cure sound as though it was doing everyone a favour, but after
being Cured every Norm was expected to board the work train at six
sharp for a full day of work. At eight in the evening the same
train returned workers to the station, where they made their way
back to their tiny apartments for the night. There were no
weekends. No holidays. No sick days. Norms didn’t get paid, yet
they had no choice but to work every day. The government expected
it, and Norms were instantly eliminated if they failed to abide by
the rules. The rules were absolute. They were strict. And they were
enforced. I was absolutely certain that every single person who
lived in the Fields hated their mundane life, their monotonous
jobs, their diminished brain, and most of all, I was certain they
hated Olympia.

Mother frowned at me for snorting. She longed
for me to be ladylike, a proper Descendant. I evil-eyed her and
turned my attention back to the screen.