Gen LD3

Excited murmurings echo in the warren. Phoenix has returned. Seven ClusterMates rush to the meeting room as quickly as their atrophied limbs can carry them.

Phoenix stands at center, the ClusterMates sitting cross-legged in their respective white circles on the immaculate concrete floor. Containment Makes Contentment. These Gen LD3s, ages 21 to 28, are on the cusp of Immortality. Vacant circles mark the lives of the Immortals and a few LD3s of unknown Immortal status, swept up by Republic Relocation and never seen again.

"We have made a discovery," Phoenix announces in their husky alto, dampened by the shield of their FreedomWear. The Cluster's Leader, at 30, is the oldest, wisest, and strongest LD3. Phoenix raises a gloved hand with cupped palm, denoting receptivity—maybe even submission—to The Path. The gesture frightens many ClusterMates, especially Taylor, a recognized scholar of Republic's Tenets. "The Path showed us our natural order," Phoenix explains, lowering the hand, "and guided us to our true Home."

The room vibrates with nervous energy and rustling mylar. Morgan and Frankie, plagued by defective FreedomWear, frantically shake their heads, forcing a backdraft through their rubber feeding tubes to dissipate the fog.

The ClusterMates dare to imagine what they've been trained to reject. In making the journey, Phoenix flouted every Republic Directive. Six days of travel, Phoenix tells them. Two days of discovery, six more to return. In Leader's absence, Republic Agents opened the Cluster door 14 times and deposited the daily ration of Milk, courtesy of the Department of the Great Society.

For two weeks, Phoenix defied Immortality, returning with a straighter spine and stronger voice. An astounding feat! A contradiction of the first Basic Tenet: "Only Freedom Defies Death." Leader stands proudly in FreedomWear that is unpleasantly soiled from the journey, the most visible stain a rubbed-out brownish oval in a private area. Seven pairs of eyes skitter over the stain in embarrassment.

"Let us cast off our Freedom, Safety, and Immortality," Phoenix declares.

Taylor scoffs, "Did you cast them off?" The scholar's voice is feeble, yet irreverently laden with indignation. As the puniest in the Cluster, Taylor compensates with an overblown sense of intellectual superiority. Has Leader forgotten? Order Corrupts. Phoenix's deference to The Path's "natural order" is a blatant violation!

"We did cast them off," Phoenix says, "along with this." In realistic pantomime, Phoenix abruptly pretends to grab their headgear and yank upward. The followers gasp. They have never seen Leader's face. But the headgear remains, only the eyes visible behind plastic. "And this too." Phoenix swipes downward, indicating their entire body. "A complete escape from Freedom!"

Dumbstruck and dizzy, the ClusterMates feel the tickle of a dormant primal urge, reblooming from its point of extinction. Hope. Brett, second in strength to Phoenix, dares to speak, using the proper protocol. "Leader, we are wondering... Has Republic pronounced an end to Freedom?"

"No. There have been only endless justifications. We will reach Immortality long before Republic lifts the Freedom. Let us journey to our true Home, where mortal souls flourish in the embrace of Family."

Taylor shudders. Family Is Oppression.

The mutterings swell, the questions are many. In casting off Freedom, Safety, and Immortality, aren't they inviting Enslavement, Peril, and Fate? How are they to undertake such an arduous journey? Emaciated inside their armor, they're half the size of Republic's Agents. Where will they get Milk? Six days of starvation, plodding on weak limbs, blinded by sunlight, terrified of detection. What is the punishment for violators of Tenets and Directives? They can only guess what the hands that feed will do to the mouths that suck the Milk. Parents and Children.