Good morning to you!
How are your days going?
Mine continue in a rather monotonous way: wake up, school, cafeteria, Artificial Fertilization Center, break, more work, home and bed.
Only yesterday was different, because we finally moved into our new house.
The first time I had seen it I was amazed: it was built right next to a waterfall. One part of the building stretches on the cliffs above a beautiful lake, the other part was dug into the hill behind.
We have a large garden with a natural swimming pool, fed by the same waterfall, and the interior of the house is insanely luxurious.
My mother, as soon as she noticed how I was gloating in front of all that goodies, immediately rebuked me: all this belongs to us only as long as the government finds it right to grant it to us. She is keen to remind me that nothing is truly ours. This did not stop me from rejoicing in the huge library and my room, which is too nice.
Despite the stern lecture, she too seemed remarkably satisfied, so much that she made no fuss when I begged her to be allowed to celebrate by ordering two pizzas, our favorites: for me, anchovies and pineapple; for her, italian ham, toasted artichokes and white truffle sauce on the side.
We ate them sitting on the polished living room floor, with great appetite.
It was a nice dinner.
I had wanted to ask her about my biological mother, a thought that hadn’t left my mind for days and had been plaguing me, but I knew it would be a mistake: she would be furious, report me and take me to the nearest clinic where I would be unceremoniously subjected to a brain scan, just to make sure I didn’t have some cognitive abnormality.
All this tormenting me must have been visible on my face, because she asked me if I was so sad and silent because of my punishment.
“No” I answered.
She asked me if I was angry with her and with the decision she had made to force me to work at the Center as well.
I repeated that I was not, and that I was aware that I deserved both punishments. She sighed.
She told me that she understood and somehow appreciated my curiosity about the culture of the past. Then she pulled a strange Pass out of her pocket.
She asked me if I knew what it was.
I shook my head.
“It is an extremely rare type of Pass, only 5 copies of it exist on the whole continent. They are intended for the only people who are allowed free access to all the cultural and technological materials stored in our archives”, she said: “These people perform an important service for the Ethics Council. They read every book, watch every film and study every aspect connected with the Old World, subsequently helping us to develop the code of behavior that guides us today, and continue to refine our rules more and more precisely.
Through art and other works of ingeniousness, our ancestors communicated their desires, anxieties, fears and needs. They became powerful metaphors in which other people recognized themselves and got in touch with the most hidden instincts and buried ugliness of their unconscious. This is true for each one of us.
And it is in order not to excite this kind of consciousness in people that today we only allow AI to create works for entertainment”, she paused to make sure I was following her: ”I have patrolled with the police officer who is following your case: he does not think your interpretation of the book was morbid. You have shown a good understanding of the ungodliness suggested by the author in her work, namely that the people around us, and even ourselves, simply pretend to adhere to orders, while we continue to cultivate an inner world of our own alone.
Rightly, also, you understand the need to repress the individual. In short, he believes you have the chops to interpret the old texts, so he suggested that I ask the central government to grant you this Pass”, she smiled wearily: “I had to grease some wheels in the Council, but they finally relented.. Marlene, in the exact second that we might realize that your mind falters, this Pass will be revoked from you, and you will pay dearly for betraying our trust”, she held the artifact in her fingers, emphasizing her words with dry, firm movements: “We need young minds for this role. Remember, what you are given is not just a privilege. You are in the service of your government”.
She reluctantly gave me the Pass: “Having said that, your punishment continues, and the Points you lost will not be returned”.
I did not know what to say. It was a dream come true.
I opened and closed my mouth like a fish, without making a sound, and she had to laugh.
Finally I was able to thank her.
She shrugged her shoulders and asked the virtual assistant to project the speech she had recorded the night before: in each house of Alma Mater it would be played automatically.
The look she had chosen for that occasion suited her: with her hair up like that and the white cashmere suit she looked younger. Her gaze was alight as she communicated that absolutely intact female gametes had finally been collected. The discovery had made the central government rejoice, and it had decided to make it mandatory for all young people born between 2033 and 2041 to serve in Artificial Fertilization Centers in order to find out if there were other individuals with intact gametes.
The talk was still going on, but I so realized that Mama was staring at me with a look I had never seen before: “The eggs were yours, Marlene. You must have inherited them from the woman who gave birth to you, and she was in the service during those very years. She has had other children, and it is more than likely that they, too, possess similarly healthy genetic material. We need to find you all, because you may be the salvation of our species. Hybridizations and chimeras cannot save us. I hope you are proud of yourself.
I am.
A daughter only 15 years old promoted to interpreter of ancient texts and media, the one who will help us bring healthy children into the world, our bright future.
I am a woman blessed by fate.”
She shook my hand tightly, then went back to focusing on her speech, making a few remarks here and there. I stood in silence.
Suddenly, of the Pass, of the beautiful evening I had just had, of the beautiful house I lived in, I no longer cared.
Projekt ☆M@rlene☆ 