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  THE SOCIETY

  A. I. Knowles

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental.

  All rights Reserved. No reproduction of this text may be made, in whole or in part, without the express written permission of the copyright holder.

  Copyright 2019. Tessa Escalera

  [email protected]

  The Society Facebook Page

  Chapter 1:The Compound

  Swirling darkness grasps at me like ghostly fingers determined to drag me into oblivion. Up ahead, barely visible through the mist, a light swings back and forth like a pendulum. Strong hands have a pincer-grip on my arms and they’re pulling me forward toward the glare. As I approach, propelled by my invisible captors, the light brightens until I can see a lone metal table standing beneath the swinging, solitary lightbulb. Six people in white lab coats and face masks stand around the table. They look up as I approach. All I can see is their eyes...eyes which blaze bright green and violet from beneath their white hoods. The erratic light causes flickering shadows over their faces--shadows which make them seem even more mysterious and frightening.

  “No!” I scream, and struggle against the restraining hands. “I won’t do it!”

  There is no response, just the inexorable pull toward the table.

  “I don’t want it! I want to stay human!”

  One of the masked figures speaks. “Nonconformity will not be tolerated.” Then, one by one, the other figures take up the litany, until all six of them chant in a synchronous monotone. “Nonconformity will not be tolerated. Nonconformity will not be tolerated. Noncon…”

  “No!” I shriek and try to pull away, but the fingers have a grip of iron on my upper arms, and I’m trapped. There is no escape. I will become an android. It is the will of the the Society, and the Society does not allow rebellion.

  ***

  I live in a world with no mirrors.

  Sure, if that was the worst the world had to offer, why care? After all, it’s not like there are a lot of actual humans around to see me. The Nandroids don’t care what I look like. They aren’t like the HAs...human minds in android bodies. They’re just human-shaped computers designed to raise us until we’re old enough to leave our frail human bodies behind forever. They don’t care about such a thing as identity or teenage vanity.

  Two months. To be precise, 59 days, 17 hours, and 12 minutes. That’s when it will hit midnight on the day of my eighteenth birthday. In the hours before dawn, I will be spirited away to be embedded in a perfect, beautiful body that will never age or suffer illness or pain.

  I don’t know why the idea terrifies me so much. Last night, I woke in a cold sweat, my heart pounding so fast that one of the Nandroids came running in to check on me and make sure I wasn’t sick. Which is silly, considering we live in a sealed compound, and unless there’s something they’re not telling us about germs, there’s no way for contagious illnesses to reach us here.

  But the thought of having my mind in something made of wires and electricity and synthetic skin...I shudder and pull the gray blanket tighter around my shoulders. Out of everyone here, my best friend and I seem to the the only ones with such misgivings. Most of the other girls are eagerly looking forward to the process of leaving their human bodies behind. I suppose the thought of never getting fat or growing chin hairs is appealing to most people my age. An eternal life with makeup and hair that’s always perfect, and the ability to change their look as often as they can afford...what’s not to love?

  I sit on the wide sill of the window that overlooks the exercise yard. Suddenly chilled, I draw my feet up onto the ledge with me and tuck the blanket around them. The yard is almost as featureless and gray as the rest of the Compound, except for the lone mature tree in the center that grows out of a perfectly circular hole.

  They say this tree is one of the last. The Society was formed to combat the rampant disease, hunger, and poverty that gripped a world in its death throes. War and pestilence reduced once-green lands to dusty wastelands, and only a few plants and animals still exist. Supposedly, this venerable oak is one of a mere five mature trees left in the whole country. Like us, children raised by the Society, there is a whole generation of trees out there being grown to help rebuild the world, once they mature.

  A little Vacbot roams around the yard, sweeping up the few leaves that dared to fall and mar the sterile concrete. A leaf flutters down, settling on the round little bot’s back, and I chuckle as it spins in frantic circles, trying to escape the invisible threat.

  Craning my neck, I lean my head against the blue-tinged glass, trying to catch a glimpse of the sky. It’s still dark, with just the faintest hint of pink staining the sliver of sky that’s visible between the top of the wall and the tree’s outermost limbs. I wonder what it must have been like for those generations that only ever saw a sky obscured by dust and smog. At least they got to see the whole sky, even if it was always a murky shade of brown or grey.

  A buzz sounds from across the room, and I jump. Groaning, I hop up and pad across the cold floor in my bare feet. Along the right wall stands my bed, with its white sheets and gray bedspread. I have the extra-warmth throw blanket around my shoulders. There isn’t even a headboard or footboard, just a metal frame beneath the mattress. This is the same place I’ve spent every single night since I first came here as a toddler. In fifteen years, not a single thing has changed.

  Along the left wall stands a shiny white desk with no drawers, just a thin top set on spindly metal legs. It holds my sketchpad and paintbrushes, the only old-fashioned things in the otherwise sleek and sterile room. I pull out the chair, which is the same shade and material as the desk. After sitting down, I dance my fingers over the holographic keyboard, then look up to the screen, which commands my entire field of vision. It is built flush with the wall, and when off, becomes invisible among the rectangles of gray. Right now it’s lit bright white, displaying a Society message I’ve seen so many times that I could almost recite it from memory. Accompanying the message is a picture of an HA android with dark hair, bright green eyes, and “HA623A” stamped just above her collarbone.

  Welcome to the Society!

  We believe in equal opportunity and wealth for all.

  Of course, opportunity starts with the vessel we inhabit. If the body is weak or ill, the person will be unable to take advantage of any opportunity they are given.

  That is why the Society is pleased to announce the latest model in our HA (human aspect) android line: the HA632A.

  HA623A is modeled to your exact specifications. We start either with a template modeled from your own physical characteristics, or you may pick from a set of pre-programmed, fully-customizable templates. Once your android meets your vision, it will go into production. Within approximately 90 days, your new body will be ready for use.

  As with former HA models, the HA623A is built to last. With self-regenerating nanotechnology capable of mending almost any wound, and SolCon skin that converts sunlight and bright ambient light into power, the HA623A will keep you going, no matter your lifestyle. Replenish the internal fusion reactor with a glass of water. The new hydrolysis unit converts it to hydrogen fuel, and you’ll be good to go. No waste, just pure, clean oxygen. Fuel up and preserve the environment too. No recharge or shutdown time needed.

  The HA623A also contains features never-before seen in our previous models. With a larger, more opaque HUD, occupants can view their android body’s status, communicate with friends, or search for information via the ‘net with greater ease than ever before. The HUD is now completely invisible to everyone except the occupant, giving YOU the privacy and user-friendliness you deserve.

  Our mind-transfer process has now been streamlined,
making it even more quick and comfortable, so you can get back to your busy life as soon as possible. A quick office visit is all that’s needed. You will walk in fully human, with all the pains and shortcomings of a human body, and less than one hour later you will walk out, with everything that makes you who you are safely embedded in a body that will never age or decay.

  As always, the HA623A comes with financing plans for those without the up-front credits, and any citizen who has been embedded for more than 1 year may upgrade free of charge. Embedding is required for most professions and all government benefits, so don’t delay. Help us create more resources for the next generation by living in a body that requires no food or ambient temperature control. The more citizens who embed, the cleaner and safer a planet we can provide for the next generation of children who are stuck in human bodies until their brains mature.

  As always, please send us a message or dial 1 from your HUD to reach a Society representative. We are ready and waiting to help you with any questions you may have, and we are 100% staffed by android-integrated citizens. This means we’ve all gone through the process and can ease any worries or concerns you may have. We are available 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.

  -end broadcast-

  “Good morning, Alyss!” The HA’s face appears in the top corner of the screen, and I squint at the cheerfulness in her voice. I don’t look at her, just tap the screen to enlarge the day’s schedule. I don’t know why I bother...it’s the same as every other day.

  “Good morning, headmistress.” Why she feels it necessary to personally greet each one of us every morning, I’ll never understand. It’s like she takes some sort of pleasure in seeing us sleepy-eyed and with tangled hair. The more we groan and grunt at her, the cheerier she gets. So I learned a long time ago to pretend I’m fully awake. It dampens her, makes her less irritating.

  This morning, however, she’s undeterred. “The Society greets you, Alyss! One day closer to your Embedding! We are so thrilled to see such a bright young woman join our ranks!”

  I manage a not-quite-grimace of a smile, and nod at her. “I am thrilled as well, headmistress.” I’m not really, but I’ll never tell her that. It’s not like her knowledge of my feelings on the matter will make any difference. All that will happen is she’ll send me to the counselor’s office...and I’ve never felt much like spilling my guts to a shiny Nandroid with a not-quite-human face, or being drugged into walking oblivion.

  “Have a great day, Alyss!”

  “Thank you, headmistress,” I intone, willing her to be gone. Thankfully, she seems to have had enough fun at my expense, and her face disappears from the screen. I swipe the schedule away and rise from the chair, leaving the blanket hanging over the back of it.

  Shuffling to the bathroom, I strip out of my gray t-shirt and sweatpants and discard them on the floor before stepping into the glass-walled shower. I hear a whir behind me, but don’t turn to look. It’s only the dispensing slot spitting the day’s uniform out onto the counter that’s the exact same shade as the desk in my bedroom. A shallow sink overhung by chrome fixtures marks the exact center of the counter’s length. Above it is a rectangle the size of my bedroom screen, which emits a soft yellow glow. Occupying the space between the shower’s end and the counter is a gray-tiled bench.

  After a shower just long enough that I won’t get a “poor hygiene” demerit, I step out onto the rough gray tiles and pull down a towel from the basket over the toilet. Then I tug on the white button-up blouse and the gray skirt. The skirt’s heavy folds fall to my ankles, and my feet are covered by the practical-but-ugly gray slippers that sat on top of the pile. I drag my fingers through my hair and braid it. The mass falls nearly to my waist when it’s wet. The closest I can come to describing the color is that yellowish-brown of damp sand. Not that I’ve ever seen sand anywhere but in my school videos.

  It’s one of the few ways they let us express ourselves...and I prefer the mess of it to the sleek, boyish styles most of the HAs wear. I suppose androgyny makes sense in a society without biological gender...or sex...but I’m still human and I’m still female. They haven’t fully trained the teenage humanity out of me, no matter how hard they try to regiment and control me. I may not know what my face looks like, beside some blurry reflections in windows, but my hair makes me feel pretty, and I’ll fight to keep it as long as I possibly can. Maybe I won’t care anymore when I’m in an android body. One can only hope.

  Clean and presentable, I drop the towel on the floor where the Cleanbots will pick it up later. I walk out of the bathroom, turning and striding through the austere bedroom until my steps bring me right up to the door which leads to the corridor. The frosted-glass door hums and hisses aside, sliding into the wall. I step out into the hallway, as do the girls on either side of me. We nod to each other, then we all turn to our left and walk down the great concrete hallway toward the mess hall.

  There are a half-dozen of us total in Compound 6. We are part of the first generation that has never known a time before the HAs, the “human aspect” androids. Twenty-three years ago, the HA600 was created. Why did they start at 600? I don’t know, and nobody will tell me. I have a sneaking suspicion that it took 599 failures before they had a success, which further detracts from my confidence in the entire program.

  Dark-skinned, slant-eyed Linea smiles at me and falls into step beside me. She’s my only real friend in this place. Even so, there is always a distance between us, a chasm that cannot be crossed when even confidential conversations are all heard and recorded by androids. I don’t know her secrets and she doesn’t know mine...we are merely two people who are on better terms with each other than with the rest of the girls here. She is subdued these days...almost as colorless as our surroundings. I miss the days when she was bubbly and vivacious, and not medicated into numbness.

  “Hey.” Her quiet voice doesn’t carry across the corridor that echoes with our footsteps. “You okay? I heard the Nandroid go by last night.”

  I rub my hand wearily over my face. “Yeah. Just a bad dream.”

  She links her arm with mine as we walk around the wide curve in the corridor. Despite the similarity in our age, she is several inches shorter than I. We emerge into the vast room where we take our meals. Every time I see this place, I have the unnerving feeling that it was meant for hundreds of people, not a measly half-dozen. Gently curving white beams soar above our heads, panes of frosted glass between them. They culminate in a peak from which hangs the giant industrial chandelier that lights the room in the evenings. Along the wall to our right is the bank of little wall niches at waist height that hold our food trays. The food is always waiting for us when we arrive, with no indication of where it comes from. There are at least twenty of the niches in a line from the edge of our corridor to the spot next to the hall that leads to the Compound’s reception area. Only six of them, the closest to where we enter the room, are ever lit. In the very center of the room, beneath the peak, stands a single, rectangular table.

  I think back to my childhood when there were several dozen of us here, all of varying ages. Sweet Jennifer, who always stood up for me. Hateful Keisha who thought tripping the little ones was hilarious. They’re all gone now...each one leaving when they turned eighteen, and for nearly five years now, there have been no newcomers. Many left earlier, when bad behavior or emotional instability made them candidates for Reprogramming, and they never returned. Does this mean there are no more? Are there no more children being born now that The Society is mostly androids? Or are they being raised elsewhere? Whatever the reason, all I get is longsuffering sighs or stubborn silence when I ask.

  Linea lets go of my arm as we remove our trays from the niches set underneath the little screens displaying our names. I grumble under my breath and shoot a dirty look at the camera I know is set somewhere in the wall above the niches. Eggs again? And not even real eggs. What’s the point of feeding us something that tastes bad when the food factories can put any nutrients in any food and th
ere’s no nutritional reason to need them at all?

  I shuffle after Linea and the other girls toward the table, then swing my leg over the bench and set my tray down on the rough white surface. There are three of us to a side: Me, ebony-skinned Lakasha, and the white-skinned, platinum-haired Shana are faced by Linea and the Hispanic twins who just go by the names Mo and Jo. The six of us are the only fully-human people we ever see. Beyond us, the Compound is run and staffed by various non-humanoid androids and the HAs and Nandroids. The only males I’ve ever met are HAs. I often wonder what a human-bodied boy would look like, but outside of the few I’ve seen on a screen, I suspect I’ll never know. After I leave, unless I come to work in a Compound, all I will see is other HAs. And since gender is interchangeable with HAs, there’s no knowing who any of them were before being embedded.

  As I shove my eggs and oatmeal into my mouth, I stare off into the distance while the other girls chatter. I watch with unfocused eyes as a Cleanbot polishes a spot of gray floor on the opposite end of the room.

  “Did you see that guy in history yesterday?” Shana isn’t talking to me, so I continue watching the bot.

  Lakasha shudders. “Yeah. Hideous. I can’t believe people left the house looking like that.”