Mother's Hand

Chapter Three

I traced by fingers over the de-brief pack. It was thick and square with Mother's cloaked face embossed on the cover.

Ever perfect in her sacrifice to save humanity. I remember loving her so much as a child, singing our songs about her.

My elementary school was nestled in the shadow of one of her monolithic statues. That close to the statue, the top would vanish into the clouds. Each of her eight statues were slightly different, and many made the pilgrimage to see them all.

The height was symbolic; six hundred and fifty meters. Around our lands were an even greater feat of engineering; a six and a half thousand miles circular wall; each meter of statue represented a hundred miles of the wall that closed us in.

On the pack below her face was my name; 828–KAL. Our number granted to us by Mother and our first name freely selected. We hadn't been allowed a surname in generations, some still knew what their family name should had been, sadly mine had disappeared with my parents.

The pack weighed heavy in my hands, but I hadn't broken the red wax seal on the back quite yet. I wanted to wait until I had put a few miles between myself and this facility. Any reaction I had here would be seen and recorded, my micro expressions analyzed.

I had been instructed to sit until called in the clinical waiting room. As I looked at the walls adorned with posters of our values, several things began to hit me at once. Namely; I didn't know where I was. I mean I assumed I was in a Mother's Hand facility among the spires Section One but I could be anywhere. It was weird thinking that – and it led to a deep and thorough feeling of disconnectedness.

I wonder what's changed in the world.

Though I knew what most people said is how disappointed they were how little actually changes in four years. A long time ago my friend Becca was called for service while we were in vet school. She was almost excited for her service, like it was a passport to the future. She was one of those fancy girls born and raised in Section One who had their whole life laid out, she wanted to be done and for us to all have flying cars. In her week run up to service, she would talk about it all the time; "I want you guys to pick me up in a flying car. Even if you have to rent one – a flying car, you hear?"

But her four years in service came and went and we never saw nor heard of her again. We still don't have flying cars. Or at least we didn't then... someone more curious might wonder– how can have spaceships, colonize planets, create an army out of sleeping people's bodies and not be allowed to leave the walls of Mother's Lands? There was no technology that could facilitate exploration.

Becca had a point; it was ridiculous. We were kept in a technological shadow.

Kal, don't think like that, something in my brain warned me. Keep your head down, stay out of Mother's Sight.

Well, it's a bit too skuffing late for that. I took a breath and forced myself to think of other things.

At least Gary was already a veteran and it was Gary who was going to come and pick me up. I wondered how this time had been for him. Before leaving, I had tried to make him swear not to play any of the new BioHat games without me.

I glanced at the guard who stood by the exit door at ease, hands behind his back. He was in Mother's Hand military wear, a smart black uniform with red trim, gun on his belt and a stunstick at his side. From his neck the cobwebby pin-prick of blue lights flickered. His eyes were open but un-seeing, I subtly waved my hand back and forth and they didn't track the movement.

Was I like that in service? A blank, un-seeing drone?

He spoke gruffly and robotic, making me jump. "828-Kal. Your pick-up is here. You may go."

I gripped my debrief pack and walked past him warily as the door slid open.

With a swift jerk the guard's hand was on my wrist, his grip like iron.

A small grin spread across his lips and his eyes locked onto mine.

"828-Kal," he said. But the mannerisms of it, his chin already lowering, looking up at me through his eyebrows with a coquettish femininity. It's Mother.

"Don't forget about your meeting with the Prince next week. No matter what – it's a must-attend-on-your-life event. So don't be late."

"Of course, I'll be there," I managed to splutter.

Then she was gone, retreated back into her system.

The guard was the guard again and his hand fell away.

I walked out into the brightness of daylight and saw Gary sitting in his same piece of skiff car from four years ago waiting for me.