Subjectivity: Chapter Two

The class was silent, save for the shuffle of feet outside the closed doors and the quiet hum of the air conditioner at the back of the room. The ventilation system hiccupped ever so often with the muffled bang of the vents pressurising and depressurising with the inconsistent fluctuations of cooled air that flowed through their metallic veins.

The room itself was cool and dry with the surging of the air conditioning system, likely overworked in the tropical heat of a Neo-Palmyran summer. However the equatorial heat was lost to the solitary figure in the empty room as his fingers danced across the flat surface of the tablet before him, which rested upon an angle on the table and was propped up by a narrow stand protruding from the computer’s back casing.

Roe sat in the farthest back and highest echelon of seating, for the room had four rows of seating which ascended away from the front of the classroom. Split into three sections, the centre and their companion tables to the left and right were angled toward the smart boards. Dark mahogany made up the long desks and chairs made of black metal sat behind them, which further exemplified the school’s opulently spent wealth. Seating at maximum roughly forty students, the room was expansive and wide.

Roe, with a few deft movements of slim fingers, opened a program on the desktop of his console labeled “Mother Natalie.” A solitary screen opened, depicting a ring of DNA with the words ‘Hope,’ ‘Providence,’ and ‘Fortune’ written in descending order in a fine golden scrawl. Being the emblem of NELO, Roe found a small part of him, an irrational part of his mind so rarely felt or thought of, loathing it greatly. Snuffing out such ill-thought notions as the program booted up, Roe turned his attention back to the program, wherein a chat room was opened where only one other was present, whose identity was marked as ‘Doctor Bellerose.’ Next to her name, A small digital pencil had begun to scribble back and forth just above his own text box, indicating Mother was typing.

A quiet alert was heard as her displayed: ‘Hello Roe. How is university life treating you?’ Roe eyed the line of text critically, the connotations of it coming to mind. Had Mother Natalie predicted a hostile response to his presence? Had she worried that he would falter in those situations? The young man, though remaining entirely passive, discarded such nonsensical thoughts, entirely sure the heckling of a few Normals as unimportant and benign to his life.

However, his critical examination of her question faded as fond memories of when Mother Natalie had saved him from recycling, or when she never hesitated to talk to him, regardless of the Keepers telling her it was useless came to mind. It took weeks, but eventually he did respond, and the look of pure joy on her face gave him a strange sense of hope. Her kind smile silently proclaimed that not all Normals were horrible people who despised him merely for his existence.

Roe’s right hand tapped smoothly over the electronic keyboard displayed on the screen and after a moment, sent a message reading; ‘I am without complaints. Most peculiarly, one student, my roommate, is attempting to befriend me. I still wonder what his true intentions are and if he will merely betray me later, but he has been thus far a morally sound individual. As you may recall, few have been so loyal to me.’

Pausing another moment, he sent another message; ‘Moreover, he has introduced me to a few of those individuals who also live on the same floor in our dormitory. It is a most curious effect that they bond so quickly. I have read that when one leaves home for an extended period, those around their living space become a pseudo-family in ideal situations.’ Roe scanned what he had written. To the uneducated person, his words would come off with a great deal of ego and vanity, however the young Subject knew that Mother Natalie was wiser than such; she was not one to take anything at face value, just as she had not readily believed the Keepers when they told her he was but a defective product.

‘My dear child, it warms my heart to hear that there have been those that accept you so. This roommate of yours sounds like an admirable young man, and I suggest you do your utmost to repay his kindness with the responsiveness he likely yearns for from you. It’s a social convention in society outside of our family for people to speak an equal amount when in casual discourse. I am sure you will do what is best as you so often do. You are my bright little boy and for those who see you inferior, I disagree wholeheartedly; you are as normal as any of them.’ The words before him dripped with the ever emphasised kindness Mother Natalie sought to sew in Roe; she had made no pretenses during his days at NELO that she wanted for him to feel his emotions more fully, however Roe remained unsure of their value in his life.     

Roe drummed his fingers against the cool surface of the elongated desk before him as he contemplated how to respond. Mother Natalie had a habit of leaving him wordless with her thoughts of his so rarely seen humanity and these great annunciations of his kindness and worthiness. After a long pause, he decided to merely ignore what confused him; ‘I understand. I will endeavour to become more responsive to his attempts to make conversation. However, I do not understand how I could be akin to the Normals here. Many are incredibly hostile because of, what I have been led to believe by you and Logan, misinformation regarding our existence. I am not entrapped by my emotions and my ego like they are, and nor do I allow personal hatreds to blind me from the truth at hand.’ He frowned slightly at his concession of speaking more with Stephan. He found the young Greek to be quite confusing with his outgoing nature and part of himdid not look forward to having to understand more of his seemingly illogical actions in the near future.

The small pencil indicating Mother Natalie seemed to write on without repose for a long time after Roe’s statement, however it abruptly flipped on its end and began to erase unseen text before disappearing altogether, indicating she had scrapped her initial thought. Afterward, the small indicator of her writing appeared once more and her words were rather succinct; ‘Dearest child of mine, you will learn one day that intelligence spans so much more than things you can learn from books and videos. There’s wisdom to the world you’re just beginning to explore. Don’t retract from it so quickly, if but for me, endeavour forth.’ Once more the electronic pencil appeared and a question was given: ‘If you wouldn’t mind, tell me of your roommate, Roe. I’m curious about him.’

Icy azure eyes settled on the question posited and his head cocked to the side in confusion. Why Mother Natalie wished to learn of Stephan confused him a fair deal, but Roe decided to be amicable and give what little information he had of the extroverted Greek. ‘His name is Stephan Tharros. I am unsure as to what major he endeavours to take on as his own, however he and I share one class – the one that is about to begin – and is incredibly extroverted. If I understand his personality as genuine, he is very friendly as well. Whereas most are put off by my status as a Subject, he deemed it unimportant. A curious phenomenon, that.’

Roe mused over his words; he really could not think of anything else to describe Stephan. It had been through Stephan in an indirect sense that he learned that Vadim was also a Subject and he was also rather sure that Leonas was as well from his demeanor. He could not determine whether Leonas was either incredibly fond of Vadim or loathed him greatly. The two spent an inordinate amount of time together, however, for Vadim’s rather outrageous comments and inappropriate banter with Leonas in public, Roe remained unsure as to who was really punishing whom between the two of them.

However it was Mother Natalie that broke his train of thoughts with more indecipherable words carrying emotional weight. ‘He sounds like a good person, my dear boy. And you are not just a Subject – not anymore. You’re a fully-fledged person with all the rights therein, thanks to President Ehrhardt. The world is your oyster, Roe.’ His contemplation of her words was abruptly interrupted as the far door to the classroom opened. Knowing who the newcomer was, Roe’s skillful typing came to bare once more as he silently dreaded having to speak with the man who had entered the room.

‘I must sign off, Mother Natalie. The professors; class will begin soon.’ Roe typed as his icy gaze met a baleful look from the man who placed his satchel on the centre console at the front of the room. The centre desk at such place was much akin to a wide-set podium made of metal and glass. Modern in its production, the podium held on its angled surface a large touch screen which enabled the user to control various settings for the smart boards behind them, the lights, and so forth. Extending off the console were two wing-like appendages that acted as tablet and bag holders.

Mother Natalie’s response came quickly and was simply ‘Goodbye my dear Roe.’ With that, he shut down the program, opened a note taking one and met the unhappy gaze of his professor once more. The man at the forefront of the class donned beige ill-fitting slacks that hung loose and synched awkwardly by a brown leather belt. Moreover his grey dress shirt looked to be too wide and the general ensemble gave the impression that the man seemed to care little for his appearance. Roe mused to himself that, according to Freud and likeminded psychologists, that that was indicative of a troubled home life.

The man’s greying brown hair was left in a messy part and hateful ochre eyes bored into Roe’s impassive gaze. “Oh joyous day…” the man drawled in a derogatory tone; “I spend the first minute of class with a Subject. God must truly hate me to curse me like this daily.” The man grumbled to himself as he angrily tapped the screen before him, the boards behind him coming alive with the words ‘Political Science 213.’ Roe’s brows quirked upward at his words and passively ignored the man’s hostility.

“I am unsure of whatyou speak, Professor.” Roe began calmly, folding his hands before him, “Should you desire my removal from your class, you have every capability to do as such. Perhaps it is the case that you in reality enjoy my company and desire our banter?” Roe’s voice held no mocking tones, no condescending vocalisations, however he quickly realised his words would be taken in such a sense. The illogical hatred of this specific professor continued to baffle Roe. Perhaps his problems at home had to do with Subjects? Perhaps he held to the fundamentalist ideals of The Awakening?

Roe remained unsure, but merely leaned back in his chair, straightening his back and continued the silent stare off with the elder man who never seemed to stop looking at him as though he was human refuse; a look that Roe was quickly becoming familiar with. Both instructors and students seem to stare at him as though he was a monster after learning he was a Subject, and the young blond could not understand why such was the case. To his knowledge, the passing of law to give Subjects rights was a piece of legislation that gave credence to humanity’s acceptance of them. Moreover, the illogical demand for all Subjects to simply leave wherever they lived was one that any man or woman knew to be impossible: they had family and lives and were unlikely to leave such at the provocation of strangers.

The man before smacked his hand rather loudly on the terminal before him with an irritable grunt. Roe sighed inwardly, regretting his choice of words greatly as he realised that the professor had been more easily agitated than he had first anticipated. “Damn Subjects…” He swore to himself, “Why are you always early, Subject? Why must I always endure your inhumane company? Or do you have a nefarious plan to ruin an hour of my day every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday?” His voice drawled with thinly veiled contempt.

Roe found himself bereft of a response for the man initially because it was obvious and he had explained it before on numerous occasions. Nevertheless, the blond Subject breathed out a near silent exasperated sigh and tapped a few times on the tablet below his folded hands. The screen brightened and, among a central key pad to unlock the device was a large clock which depicted that the previous class hour had ended and the class would soon be filled with unruly students.

“It is as I have said previously. I do not have a class directly preceding this one, and so I arrive early, since no class uses this room before you do, to work on outstanding assignments or incomplete notes and the like.” Roe spoke once more with the utmost civility in his cold tone, his piercing gaze meeting the baleful one being projected at him as the patience of the morally abhorrent man before him waned significantly. Roe could see the man wrestle with what he could say as he shifted back and forth, however their back and forth was abruptly cut off as the door nearest to the side of the class Roe was in swung open and a figure walked in with heavy steps.

Stephan Tharros yawned loudly as he scratched at his neck before seeming to notice the tension in the room and looked between the agitated man at the front of the class and the ever inscrutable Roe whose icy gaze moved to him, some of the intensity he had been projecting at the man at the opposite side of the classroom. Stephan’s brows knit together, having quickly realised whatever conversation that had been interrupted was best left ended.

The young Greek man took a seat on Roe’s right, who merely nodded before returning to his tablet, fingers tapping quickly on its surface, typing out notes with deft agility. Roe leaned forward a little as he saw in his periphery the professor he had been arguing with turned his attention to the electronic podium before him, evidently preparing for the class at hand. It was easy enough for him to insult Roe’s very existence when the two were alone, but once Stephan had arrived it was not so. Roe’s mind heightened on such a point; Stephan had indeed arrived a timely point; it was very fortunate.

But the idea of such being merely a happy accident seemed unlikely at best. Roe’s cobalt gaze moved to Stephan who idly fussed with his own tablet in his hand, a social networking site opened. Roe, deciding an answer was necessary, spoke up; “Stephan. You were waiting outside the door, were you not?” Stephan blinked, looking to Roe though quickly avoided the uncomfortably intense look the enigmatic figure was giving him.

“Well, yes and no…” Stephan trailed off, suddenly finding the same screen he had been staring at before rather interesting as other students began to enter, “It sounded like a serious discussion when I first arrived, but when I heard what was being discussed I decided that the professor was out of line.” Stephan looked over to Roe who merely gave a noncommittal ‘hm’ and returned to his own electronic device and his gaze drifted around the room to newcomers, many of which gave him a wide birth as they took her own seats.

Some of those students also seemed to leer at him and others spoke quietly and spared glances at him. Evidently Stephan noticed for a frown grew on his face due to the absurdity of the opinions of these people so warped by fear. Stephan nudged the Subject next to him and motioned subtly to the class around them that remained to not sit less than three seats away from Roe before speaking quietly once more; “Is it fear that drives them away from you? Are they afraid The Awakening will kill them for acknowledging you?” Stephan stated, the morose tone he took indicative of the sorry state of Subject related affairs.

Roe glanced around to a few random students staring at him who quickly turned their heads and became quite uncomfortable under his scrutiny. “It is fear of sorts, but fear of what I am unsure… You are wise to see this, Stephan.” Roe commended his roommate somberly, though the hatred bore to him was entirely ignored, as the Subject found himself to be either deficient of a means of feeling their hatred or simply so adept at ignoring their hatred was a subconscious activity. Roe quirked a brow as Stephan smiled brightly for a long moment following his words, failing to see what he could have said to bring such happiness to the student.

Regardless, Roe returned to his ministrations upon his computer, a complex math problem laid out before him remaining half solved. The problem was meant as a bonus question and anyone who solved it would receive a 30% bonus to their grade, though Roe simply found the difficulty of the question fascinating. Simply not having the previous knowledge to understand some of the question, he was forced to consult the internet after having found his professors and teaching assistants unwilling or incapable to aid him.

Stephan looked to his own tablet as Roe returned to his math problem that looked, to the extroverted brunet, ungodly confusing in his periphery. Finding his own tablet to be in grave disrepair, he passively noted the cracks in the screen in the top right corner, the dents in the casing on the back and the broken kickstand that once allowed the device to stand upright. Roe spared the device a cursory glance, surmising that it either held great sentimental value or Stephan could not afford to replace it.

The Subject made a mental note to repay Stephan’s kindness with a new tablet at some point. Having had the act of gifting explained to him a few years ago by Mother Natalie, Roe still found the activity absurd and confusing, for he believed that a good act done did not require a gift in response. However he relented to Mother Natalie’s explanation that most humans were not nearly as logical as he and did not think things through in such a dry manner. She had referred to it as the ‘human condition,’ something which Roe had read extensively on in his classes at NELO, but never quite found fully in himself, having so rarely felt extreme desires that forced him into unwise decisions and the like.

Roe looked up sharply as a question from Stephan puzzled him thoroughly; “Roe, do you want to go to the mall this weekend with myself, Emiliyia and Ray? He says they’re playing a bunch of old movies at the theater like the Hunger Games. It also would give you a chance to buy new clothing…” Stephan blinked as he realised how his statement might be taken and added a sharp addendum; “Since your current clothing attracts unwanted attention – I know you’re not ashamed of being a Subject and you shouldn’t be, but drawing needless harm is just a bad idea, right?”

Contemplating the question, Roe considered various ulterior motives that could be present. It was possible that Stephan’s kindness was merely a charade that he had seen at NELO from the Keepers who tried to get him to ‘open up.’ It was also possible that Stephan held Awakening ideals and wanted to lure Roe off campus to attack him, however an instinctual feeling – something quite foreign to the perplexing Subject – told him that such was not the case.

It was also possible that Stephan meant what he said and merely wanted to help him and socialise. Peer bonding remained quite foreign to Roe, as he had never truly had any friends at NELO, save Logan whom he only saw when the rebellious young man was not in solitary confinement for abusing Keepers or Subjects that he did not like.

“Very well, then. If I am to understand social convention, then I will oblige.” Roe said calmly, his attention returning to the math problem before him. If the endeavour turned out to be a false one carried out with malice of forethought, then he would simply overpower Emiliyia, Ray and Stephan which, from what he had seen of them would be no trifling affair. Moreover, Mother Natalie had asked of him to be more social, and he intended to fulfill his part of their agreement, lest he draw her disappointment,  and that was something he found to be inexcusable.

Stephan, seeming to not comprehend him for a long moment, simply blinked. “Oh, oh! You said yes. Well, great! But don’t think you have to go because of social convention or anything. Go if you wish, stay if you’d like, I don’t want to force you into anything.” The Greek said, a hand sliding over the cracked casing of his tablet worriedly. Had he such concern for Roe’s thoughts? The latter had never seen such consideration for his opinions on matters and he was taken aback momentarily as to how to respond in a similar situation. It was Mother Natalie’s endless guidance that he had gleaned a rough examination of how to cope with people’s irrational worries and thoughts. Roe made a conscious note to thank the woman for that, as, up until then, those lessons had failed to provide any fruit for their labours.

That was not to say that Roe abhorred learning, in fact he found it to be an exhilarating experience and spent the vast majority of his time at NELO studying various fields of natural sciences, mathematics, social sciences and the like. “No, Stephan. I have made an agreement with Mother. I will accompany you, Ray, and Emiliyia to the shopping centre. You raise a valid point that less obtrusive garb will aid me in avoiding unnecessary conflict with fundamentalist cliques and those who sympathise merely out of fear for their own wellbeing.”

With that decided, Roe returned his attention to the problem on his tablet, which was still unsolved, and let Stephan continue his rather one sided conversation with him as he rambled on about what they could do other than shop for clothing and see a movie. Seeing the former as the only important objective, Roe left the exuberant Greek to vent his thoughts as the class began to fill up.

~*~

As President of the Pacific Union, it was his duty to do his utmost for the four and a half billion citizens he served. William Ehrhardt, well into his seventies, knew all too well the necessity of his position and the key role it played, though was also aware of the terrible toll it took out upon him. Constant fatigue was felt ever more intense on one eve in particular. Having fallen asleep while being driven home, he was forced awake by the stop of the vehicle.

It had been a long day of debate and arguing, and unfortunately had resulted in nothing but abject failure. The Representatives of the Union nations refused to approve his latest bill, one that would consider discrimination based on Subject status a violation of the Pacific Union Charter of Rights and Freedoms. Seeing it as another means of enraging The Awakening, the twelve representatives stubbornly refused to approve it and had spent seven hours bickering upon what the best reasoning for it was. One of the twelve, however, did not agree: Doran Laevan, the representative of the United States of America. The aloof man had quickly become President Ehrhardt’s chief confederate in time of need, for the man was level headed and always offered wise advice.

Oftentimes the old president found himself combatting his own sense of justice as he heard the ignorant commentary of the representatives. They, unlike him, had never visited NELO and thus did not know of the normality the children there possessed. They knew nothing of their reality, insofar as the Subjects were just like any other children and did not possess great and terrible violence, nor did they have a propensity for bloodshed as The Awakening claimed.

Any sane man knew The Awakening was mad in its opinions, but fear was a powerful tool and the unseen master of the fundamentalist organisation was a lord of cruelty. For it was they who threw the world into chaos whenever a Subject gained prominence: innocent men and women were brutally slaughtered in their sleep or from afar when they publicly announced their support of the artificially born children of the New Evolutionary Leap Organisation. Once, long ago, Subjects were hailed as godsends for filling would be parents’ empty arms and hearts, though now they were seen as a dangerous nuisance and regarded with callous mistrust. Yet the Barren, the catalyst for the creation of Subjects, had only begun shortly over eighty years ago when it had struck down its first victim in Canada.

It was a cruel disease made more harsh by those it targeted first: children and elderly fell within days to cancers of unknown origins before their loved ones’ eyes. Powerless to help, families and friends watched on as people died, and Ehrhardt was not exempt to that loss. He was only a boy of eleven years old when the Barren was cured by the Laevan Foundation, but it was a terrible year etched into the old man’s mind. During that first year of the Barren, he had sat at his mother’s bedside, clutching her hand tightly.

Tears had once welled in his eyes as the doctor spoke the words he had been promised he would not hear, that she was dead. Her skin was pale, flaking from a lack of hydration in the body, her lips drawn and thin, her eyes sunken and half lidded, and her hair fallen out, revealing her scalp. She had not been able to speak for three days and, though the doctors had come and administered all the medicines known to combat cancer, they had been unsuccessful in saving her. William Ehrhardt had sat as his mother’s side for many hours after she died, praying to God, to any higher power, to bring her back, for he loved her and could not lose her. But she did not return to him.

Though William Ehrhardt, still a boy at the time, did eventually free himself of his misery and instead became resolved to help people in any way he could. Not studious enough to become a doctor, he studied law, pushed for reforms in the newly created Pacific Union at the time and eventually became a politician late in life where he championed the cause of protecting Subjects.

His reminiscing was interrupted as the car door to his right was opened and he slid out of the vehicle. Wincing in pain as he stood, the President of the Pacific Union was reminded of the glib reality of being a man in his position at the age of eighty-five. The weight of his position was most easily felt in his back and knees which cried out for him to sit once more, but he ignored them with the same dignity he attempted to uphold in all his endeavours in life.

“Thank you, Samuel,” he nodded to his driver, the man bowing a little and receiving a light chuckle from the old man who spoke in jest. “Bowing? I did not know I was Emperor of the Union.” With a light pat on the shoulder, Ehrhardt made his way to the presidential estate’s entrance. “Tell Grace and the kids I said hello,” he nodded once more as the driver walked around the front of the vehicle and stopped as he opened his own door.

“Goodnight, mister President. Sleep well.” Samuel spoke respectfully and slid into the government vehicle. The building before the president was anything but subtle, unlike the kindnesses exchanged between driver and driven. Palatial in its make, four glimmering steel columns were set in equidistant intervals in a semicircle before the set of doors. Two stories high, the building stretched out in various shades of cream and white in either direction, intended to be seen as modern and sleek.

The public had come to condemn the opulence of the White House in America and so it was decided that the home of the Pacific Union’s leader would be one that was indicative of the current society, not a small castle to impose a sense of inferiority upon the masses. Ehrhardt, garbed in an equally white suite, paired with a bright blue dress shirt and pocket square, opened one of the heavy wooden doors and stepped inside. Before him was a wide, curving staircase that led to the second level and split away like identical branches halfway up, toward the opposite wings of the building. Marble floors stretched out in earthy tones, contrasting with the regal red carpet that covered the stairs and the stale white walls. The entryway was truly opulent, a fact that the old president was not fond of, but it was not for the decorations that he chose to live in the building.

The hurried footfalls of a child sounded from a nearby entryway and Ehrhardt felt small arms embrace his waist. Looking down, he found his granddaughter hugging him tightly. “Grandpa! You’re late! Daddy said you’d be home hours ago.” Looking up at him, her heterochromatic eyes shining gleefully, she questioned him silently for the reason behind his late arrival. Finding himself unable to give an answer that would not worry the small girl, he remained silent for a moment.

However the child did not seem to mind as she release him from her grasp and wrapped her hand around a few of his fingers, dragging him toward the living room. “You’ll never guess what happened at school, grandpa: there was a new student! She’s a Subject and she just got adopted. She was super scared until I asked her to come and do her painting project with me.” Alyssa continued to speak animatedly as the two sat on one of the grey couches in the living room.

The room was comprised of an angular leather couch, an accompany set of chairs and a large television screen on the wall which currently displayed what appeared to be a children’s cartoon from Japan. Seated on one of the chairs was the President’s grandson, Thomas, who had not even noticed the old man’s entry due to his enamoured nature with the show at hand. Across from the boy of seven years, as he was Alyssa’s twin brother, was their father and William Ehrhardt, Joshua Ehrhardt.

The ever industrious man busily typed away on a tablet in hand, his attention also diverted entirely from reality. William Ehrhardt spared a wry smirk at the similarity between father and son, for they both easily shut out the world and focused on the task at hand.

Looking back to his granddaughter, the girl looked up at him expectantly. “Well your parents, grandma and I are very proud of you, Lyssa.” He placed a hand on her head, “You’ve got a good heart and you made a nervous girl feel welcome in school. Now more than ever, every kindness possible must be made for those boys and girls from NELO. They need to know they’re welcome and wanted.”

The little girl smiled at him and shifted over, resting her head against his arm and focusing on the large screen before them. Casting his gaze to his son, the president cleared his throat, “Josh, you’ll look as old as I do if you keep working into the night like this. You don’t want your mother worrying about you now do you?” Speaking to his forty year old son as though he were a teenager, the younger Ehrhardt man chuckled lightly, typing a few more things into his tablet before setting it aside. “Better,” the old man commended.

“Sorry father, there’s a report due in a few days and with all the publicity around the house it takes me twice as long to leave.” Joshua explained, running a hand through his black hair. “Thomas, go help your grandmother with getting dinner ready,” He looked to his son who blinked, jumping slightly as he was brought back to the real world. About to protest, the young boy was silenced by his father, “Now now, don’t complain!”

The man laughed lightly, “If you help grandma, she’ll give you treats I’m sure.” At the prospect of candy, the child stood abruptly and hurried toward the entryway. Looking to the old President who had a white eyebrow cocked, he shrugged. “Well if it works, it works. If I recall you used the same trick on me.” The old man rolled his eyes, resigning to the truth of the other’s words and with a few deft movements of his hands, Joshua changed the channel of the TV to the news. An ominous tension filled the air as Joshua focused on the television’s display; “What the…?” The middle aged man questioned as he focused his attention on the screen.

A fresh faced reporter sat behind a rounded desk with a picture of the Pacific Union’s Senate building overhead. The reporter cleared her throat and spoke: “Beginning with our lead story tonight, the Union Senate’s Speaker of the House has gone to the Supreme Court to contest the actions of President William Ehrhardt. For seven years the Senate has fought the granting of rights to Subjects, and has issued many statements regarding the act as ‘tyrannical,’ and that ‘it oversteps the bounds of the President’s authority.’ Opponents to the Senate’s decision argue that the matter of Subject rights is not one of legal jurisdiction but instead of human rights and thus it is the President’s authority to do so.’

William Ehrhardt sighed quietly, shaking his head. Ever since he had been elected, with the recent rise in activity by The Awakening, public opinion had turned against Subjects and he worried greatly that they would lose their rights as quickly as they gained them. Nevertheless, the beleaguered old President sat up straight. “I won’t let them take the Subjects’ rights away. We won’t return to a world where Subjects are seen as second class citizens. I won’t.”

~*~

The car rumbled tumultuously over the roads below. The grinding of gears could be heard every so often as its driver struggled to keep the aged vehicle up to speed. But, it was the obsolete design of the vehicle that Stephan both admired and dreaded. Ray’s car was roughly seventy years old and was one of the last purely gas running vehicles still on the road.

Though most cars had since become hybrids of gas and electric or hydrogen, the necessity of gas remained for transportation. Stephan placed a hand on the centre console of the vehicle, willing his stomach to calm itself as the bumpy ride sloshed around its contents. Emiliyia and Ray were exchanging banter over the driver’s seat as the latter, seemingly oblivious to the rough experience that was riding in his vehicle, had placed his right hand on the top of the steering wheel and the left on the driver side door. However both Roe and Stephan remained utterly silent, though Stephan imagined such was for radically different reasons.

Feeling the uncomfortable heat building up in his midsection, Stephan clenched his eyes closed for a minute once more, willing his nausea to abruptly leave his system and allow him to enjoy the outing. It had taken some convincing after their initial conversation in class to sway him to be willing to travel via the old vehicle, however the young Greek was quickly learning that validity of Roe’s points; the ride was a miserable cacophony of movement. He remained steeled in firstly making it to their destination with his stomach’s contents safely within his person and secondly succeeding in trying to get Roe to open up.

Though no psychologist, it was clear to Stephan that something had happened to Roe as a child at NELO; something had changed him to the point of being so unable to express emotion and for the stubborn brunet, he was set on discerning what it was and helping the Subject move past it once and for all. Though it was becoming much more difficult to focus on as time went by, for the former issue was becoming steadily worse as time dragged on relentlessly.

However silence had fallen in the car and upon looking around, he found the sea green eyes of Ray jumping between him and the road and, in the back booth, Emiliyia looking at him worriedly. Unable to see Roe, the queasy Greek hoped that he had not noticed his discomfort. It was Ray, however, he spoke first; “Uh, Steph, man… You alright? You look a bit green…” He trailed off, finding the situation atrociously awkward.

Stephan opened his mouth to speak but found the activity of talking bringing more waves of stifling, hot and sickly nausea coursing through him. All he could offer in response was a shake of his head as he leaned his head back, breathing outward. “Ray, we should pull over, I think Steph’s going to be sick…” Emiliyia said tentatively, looking from the back of Ray’s seat to Stephan who had begun to breath in and out a little more shallowly. Ray frowned, either through concern or annoyance a hiccup had come into being in their trip off campus to nearby Graham City.

The city was named in honour of Malcolm and Eleanor Graham who had been murdered on Palmyra Atoll, the former name of Neo-Palmyra before its artificial expansion, two centuries ago. Ever since the expansion of the island, many businesses paid homage to the couple’s deaths through euphemisms of various sorts and the like. Many of the island’s permanent inhabitants held a candle lighting ceremony for the sight where Eleanor Graham’s remains had been found, honouring the woman who had put the tiny island on the map of the world. Each year, a new candle was added to the vigil, indicating the amount of time that had passed since then. While relatively minor in terms of deaths, such was explained as a regional bonding ceremony.

It was Roe who rather suddenly spoke up next and with his cold voice drew a startling amount of attention from Ray who had to swerve the car back into position on the road. His actions earned the ire of Stephan who found himself still embattled by nausea that threatened to cause a rather unpleasant mess. Roe’s icy gaze was settled outside, the young man sat with one white clad leg crossed over the other loosely and his hands were folded in his lap.

“It would be unnecessary to pull over. Stephan, look at me.” Emiliyia looked rather shocked with her eyebrows raised high, though she composed herself as Ray righted the vehicle. Stephan turned in his seat, meeting the piercing gaze of Roe who remained seated as though he was entirely disinterested in the entire affair. However, in one smooth effort, he unfolded his hands and reached forth, placing two fingers on both of Stephan’s temples. Cool digits surprised the nauseous Greek and he suddenly felt quite awkward and uncomfortable as Ray listened in and Emiliyia watched with silent awe of Roe actually doing something.

His voice was calm and soothing, and Stephan found himself slowly relaxing as Roe spoke “Do not feel the car below us. It is not there if you do not will it to be there. Now, follow my instructions. You shall breathe slowly from the sky itself; airy and pure, it will bring coolness into your tumultuous being, for it shall be as medicine to an ill man.” Roe’s words seemed foreign to the reclusive Subject, as though he was reciting a script. Regardless, Stephan obliged and began to focus his mind on the sky, imagining the wispy clouds overhead and the pure blue sky and breathed in deeply. “Now, slowly exhale back to the sky,” Roe spoke once more, his voice calming in a peculiar way and Stephan obliged, exhaling slowly. Stephan’s gaze met Roe’s as the enigmatic figure never seemed to deviate from his focus on Stephan and the ill man found himself rather embarrassed at how he was being babied so.

“You will now breathe from the trees, hills, mountains and valleys. From them you will draw a slow breath in and find comfort in their sturdy permanence. Let their steadfast existence bring foundation to you.” Roe’s words were once more followed with an inhaling by Stephan who pictured the trees swaying in a gentle breeze in valleys, on hills and mountains. Without even completely realising it, Stephan’s nausea began to lessen over time. “Exhale” was the next word to follow from Roe and Stephan once more obliged.

Evidently there was more to the learned exercise at hand as Roe continued to speak; “Now, take a deep breath from the streams, rivers, lakes and oceans. For your pain and illness is like them; mobile. It can come and go with but a gentle deviation.” Stephan breathed in once more, imagining the soothing flow of water over shallow rocky rivers in his parent’s homeland and the great vastness of the Pacific Ocean just out of sight. “Good, now exhale,” Roe commented before continuing, “We will grow deeper into the earth now. Breathe from the immensity of the crust of the earth, whose vastness encompasses all below and all above; the enormity of the ground will bring you comfort in its steadfast reliance of safety.” Once more, Stephan breathed in once more, his gaze becoming lidded and unfocused. “Now exhale.”

Complying, Stephan found the unsteady ride they were a part of entirely ignored as he focused his mind on the scene Roe was artfully painting and the words he so soothingly spoke in his unordinary tone. “From the lifeblood of the Earth you will breathe now: take a deep breath from the coursing magma of the world that gives the crust license to flourish life. Its life giving properties will rejuvenate what you have lost in the previous steps.” Once more, Stephan did as instructed and breathed in a deep breath from the magma of the Earth.

Instinctively exhaling as Roe instructed such, the blond Subject nodded and continued; “Now you will breathe from the core of the Earth, the mighty centre of our world that keeps the sky, the land, the water, the crust, and the magma coursing with life. Take from it your deepest of breaths and seal in your health and when you exhale, you will be well again.” Taking a breath so deep he felt his head become even more lightheaded from the exercise, Stephan held it for a long moment before exhaling and upon so, Roe dropped his hands from his temples and folded them in his lap once more.

Emiliyia was the first to speak, Roe clearly being gawked at by the red haired young woman, “Roe… where did you learn that? And why did it work?!” She deadpanned, eyeing the withdrawn Subject nearby. Her questions were mirrored by Ray as well after a moment and, although Stephan remained silent, he placed a hand on his stomach, finding himself to be totally fine and unaffected by the turbulent commute. Roe thought on the matter for a long moment, his gaze once more drifting to the passing scenery, now of suburban homes and the occasional park or school.

“It was a technique I learned from Mother Natalie when I was taken to surgery. It was deemed an unneeded expense to anesthetise me during these procedures, and so it was necessary that I learned a means of removing pain from my mind and focusing elsewhere. Moreover, it was a technique taught to younger Subjects, in a smaller scale, to aid them in travelling by plane to join their adoptive families, as many were made easily sickened by motion.” Roe explained idly, gaze focusing on a few men and women walking down the street holding canisters of coffee and the like.

The ascetic Subject wondered if they drank the drink for its energising properties or for some sort of relatively pointless social construct. He understood that people often drank together, but the purpose of such evaded him so. However, much to Roe’s inattention, the other three within the undulating vehicle had grown entirely silent as he watched the world pass by. Ray’s eyes were wide as he watched the rode, hands gripping the steering wheel with an odd intensity. Emiliyia simply gawked at the reserved Subject, and Stephan had turned to the other side of his chair, looking to Roe through the crack between the door and seat with horrified sea-green eyes.

Stephan, emboldened by Roe’s nigh miraculous removal of his nausea, spoke first, still trying to comprehend what he had just been told so offhandedly; “Roe… They performed surgery on you and you could… feel it?” His words came out tentatively and he heard the pathetic misery in his own tone, which brought his mind to anger. Why was he feeling so horrible about this? Why was he so horrified? It was Roe who was tormented so, not he.

However, Stephan’s mind was long beyond rationalising that Roe would not speak of it unless pressed uncomfortably, and so he pressed forward as Roe offered a passive nod, azure gaze fixated outside with a bored inattentiveness. “Why? That’s monstrous…” He trailed off hopelessly. The image of a young Roe Speremus, helpless and small laying upon a frigid operating table came to mind. It was a sorry sight and something Stephan would expect to find in a film rather than real life and part of his mind sought to simply disavow it as truth and consider the Subject mad. However the reclusive man had told no lies since they had met and so to discount him over dishonesty was impossible. The same thought of a child Roe being operated on returned and the Greek man shuddered from it, fervently discounting it.

Roe shrugged his shoulders, beginning to grow uncomfortable with the topic at hand, for the Subject found their unhealthy obsession over his person to be unjust, given that the other three had more to speak of and have proven such before Stephan had grown ill and he was forced to act. Granted, he had not minded the act; it had further proven to him that Stephan was indeed an extrovert and responded to words and gestures much more fervently than implied meanings and the like.

Making a mental note of that, he sighed, a bit frustrated; “Yes, it was monstrous.” He said a touch quickly, Ray glancing back at him curiously, “But. It happened and can never ‘un-happen,’ and so I must move forth. I suggest you all do the same.” With that he folded his hands and placed them back into his lap, catching the now hurt stare Stephan was giving him. Though for the solitary young man, he found no explanation as to why Stephan would be sad and so he merely raised a brow at him before the perturbed Greek turned around his seat and began to make quiet small talk with Ray once more and before long, Emiliyia had joined in.

The time was roughly noon as the four of them piled out of Ray’s decrepit car, its wholly unimpressive stature being made clear as Stephan remarked it for the first time. The passenger door was a different colour than the rest of the vehicle and various places around the wheel casing were thoroughly rusted. Stephan breathed a sigh of relief for they had finally left the infernal tumultuous vehicle and would be free of its horrible experience for a few hours.

Ray, deciding time was at a premium, headed toward the sleek structure before them. Situated on the edge of downtown Graham City, high rise apartment buildings, office towers and other various skyscrapers loomed before them and all around the mall. Its structure was smooth and without sharp edges, drafting a rather modern looking building; great metal beams held the buildings of the mall up and the glass roof shined brightly with the sun’s radiance. Catching up to Ray, Stephan fell into step with Roe who merely took in the sights with mild interest, his icy blue eyes glancing from place to place as the oppressive heat of Neo-Palmyra bore down on them.

Entering the mall, the cool air of the air conditioner was immediately  noticeable and it was next to the main doors they stopped. “Alright, so: the nostalgia movies start in a few hours so we have plenty of time to do our thing. I know Roe needs to get some less ugly clothing and Stephan’s helping with that, so Emiliyia and I will go manly things while you two shop like domesticated housewives, alright?” Ray grinned a rather devious grin and Emiliyia scoffed, clearly annoyed.

“I am not a manly man! I am a pretty lady, and just for that, you’re helping me pick out underwear, Ray.” Emiliyia grinned an equally devilish grin back at the now deflated Ray who began to complain and protest as he was dragged away by the arm, proclaiming that they weren’t even dating and thus not obligated to go on ‘chick errands.’ Leaving Roe and Stephan to one another’s company, the latter felt an awkward atmosphere come into being, though he imagined that Roe was completely oblivious as he took in the sights.

The words so recently spoken of the Subject’s experiences at a child remained in the outgoing young man’s mind and haunted him gravely. He had not been aware that the cruelty of Subjects in the real world had been given a different shape in NELO. For outside the pristine facility Subjects were regarded with fear and often overt slander, though within they were ruthlessly delineated and regarded differently for the social separations made. It was an illogical system for a compound that wished to foster healthy children and it left Stephan only more confused. He was greatly tempted to speak to his silent counterpart about his experiences, though had already learned of the other’s discomfort with the topic.

The mall itself was broken into three levels with two department stores on either end on all levels, and each level was open in the centre, allowing the open glass ceiling to allow maximum light into the multileveled building. The sun, unobstructed by any clouds, shone brilliant radiant light into the building, giving the first floor a surreal glow of ephemeral beauty as it reflected off otherwise stale steel and glass. Stephan took a deep breath and let it out, and placed his hands on his hips, facing Roe, who only looked at him aimlessly.

“Well then! Time to get you to stop looking like you’re a figurine someone forgot to paint clothes onto. C’mon!” Stephan hurried in no particular direction, intent on finding stores for Roe, though the blond only seemed to give a half-heard complaint about how he could not be a figurine but relented and caught up to Stephan with a silent speed beguiling his slight frame.

The two walked for quite some time, encountering only tech stores and women’s clothing stores before finally rounding the corner and, to Stephan’s satisfaction, ignoring the rather large department store, having vowed to not to sink to such lows, and happened upon the first men’s clothing store. Entering through wooden slatted doors, loud pop music assaulted their ears without relent. Stephan waved and offered a few polite hellos to greeters, though Roe only shot them curious looks and, from the looks on their faces, they were likely less than kind glances that Roe had given.

Roe remained quiet as Stephan began to pick out clothing for the blond, who, before their arrival to that specific store, had asked him to pick out clothing he deemed appropriate and that he would then try it on for fit and, providing the price was acceptable, he would buy it. Picking out various short sleeved shirts, sweaters, pants and jeans, after roughly twenty minutes, Roe was then carrying a hefty armload of clothing and looked intensely displeased with the process.

However a glinting object caught his eye as they passed by a table of accessories and the enigmatic figure stopped and placed the pile of clothing on the next table which sat vacant, likely awaiting new product. Procuring from the pile of assorted goods, Roe held in his hands a wide metallic bracelet that seemed to clip onto one’s forearm and hold tightly enough to never move. A dull metal was its composition and written on the front of the wristband was ‘S XIII’ and Roe cocked his head to the second. Only a Subject would know what that meant; it meant: NELO Subject, Generation Thirteen, which was exactly Roe’s ‘generation.’

To the confusion of many Normals, the term generation for Subjects meant something entirely different. For NELO and thus the Subjects, Generation was essentially the ‘batch’ one was created in. To date, there had been fourteen batches, though it was quite likely a fifteen batch would be created soon. Each batch held genetic likenesses to specific ethnicities on Earth who were dealing with low birthrates due to any number of reasons. However, for those who pre-ordered Subjects, the customisation of one’s future adopted child was much more intense.

Given one’s willingness to pay, it was feasible to determine skin colour, eye colour, hair colour, build and so forth. To Roe’s knowledge, Logan was one such Subject. Personally made in Generation Thirteen for a specific couple who, oddly enough already had a few of their own children, paid a great price for Logan’s birth, the fiery young man whom Roe had not seen in some time now was deemed too erratic at birth by the prospective parents. Logan was simply left with NELO after such a point, and, according to Mother Natalie, when learning that he was essentially an unwanted baby, Logan took the news poorly and went on a rampage, earning his first extended stay in solitary confinement. Roe turned the wristband in the palm of his hand and eyed the space below the engraving, realising that it was prepped for more engraving. “Found something you like?” Stephan appeared rather suddenly at his side, and Roe nodded.

“Yes, I believe I shall take this as well.” He said simply before placing it on top of the pile of clothing they had collected. As the two rounded the corner through the women’s section of the store, Stephan could hear the murmurs around them. Whispers containing words of ‘freak,’ ‘Subject,’ ‘Awakening,’ and so on was all he could discern, but such was more than enough to anger him.

Roe simply ignored them and placed the pile of clothing on the changing room’s clerk-counter. The man behind the counter had bizarre dark blue hair and looked slightly too out of shape to be donning a tight fitting t-shirt and Stephan found the activity of even looking at the man unpleasant. “I wish to try these articles of clothing on,” Roe began civilly, though the man merely stood there for a moment, eyes filled with indecision. “I trust there is no qualm with such?” Roe inquired as the man continued to weigh his options.

Silence fell over the three before the man finally spoke in a hushed tone; “Of course. This way.” The man quickly slipped out from behind the counter and led Stephan and Roe, who had re-gathered his prospective clothing, to one of the most secluded changing rooms the building had to offer. Passing by, what Stephan counted to be around twenty changing rooms, they rounded a final corner to what was apparently a disabled person’s changing room, implied by the sign on the door, the man nodded; “If you need any help, I’ll be at the counter just… don’t bring too much attention to yourself. There’s a rally going on in the mall today and it might not be wise if you went out looking like… that.” The man motioned at Roe’s Subject garb and the young reclusive man nodded in understanding, deciding that he would merely wear a set of clothing out. With that, the employee hurriedly followed the corner, where one could hear him asking a few people in an exuberant tone as to if they liked their selection or not.

“That was weird…” Stephan commented as he opened the door for Roe who placed the pile of clothing on a long bench. The small room was painted grey and in the corner next to the door were three mirrors, allowing one to see all angles, along with a mirror in the opposite corner. However it was what Roe did next that threw off Stephan; the Subject began to strip his blank clothing off and place it neatly on the bench next to him.

Stephan’s eyes widened and he averted his gaze awkwardly, “I-I’ll wait outside, yeah!” He could feel the heat rising to his face. How indecent! To see someone else changing, let alone Roe of all people who had become accustomed to changing in the washroom as he readied himself for sleep or the new day at school. Though Roe stopped the closing of the door, standing there without the blank shirt he so often wore and the fly of his ill-fitting pants half done up.

Roe shook his golden head in disapproval; “No. I must know if my purchases are wise. You will tell me so, will you not?” Stephan managed a nod, the heat in his face never abating as he noted that the stories of NELO’s rigorous exercise regime was indeed true and was displayed before him. Though his parents were Greek, they had often preached the value of privacy with regards to changing and in general when one was not fully clothed and Stephan felt incredibly uncomfortable, so he merely set his gaze on the floor as Roe changed.

The rustling of clothes could be heard as the Subject changed and after a moment, he turned to face Stephan who looked up as he saw the movement of feet. Roe was donned in a pair of black pants with a crimson stripe up one leg which split into various little lines that wrapped around the thigh, a grey shirt that, on one arm, turned into a breezy sleeve and the other encased with little plates of metal and finally a pair of grey shoes that ended in a black cap.

“I like it, it’s really quite unique, you know.” Stephan remarked and the two continued their foray of trying on clothes. After some time and exhausting all the clothing they had picked out, finding about sixty percent acceptable, Roe purposefully left his set of Subject clothes in the changing room and the two rounded the corner and began walking down the hall they passed through. Upon arriving at the changing room clerk’s desk, they found a curious sight. The man who had helped them was currently being berated by a woman with obviously dyed blond hair and donning a black and white pant suit.

The woman sighed angrily as she viewed the man before speaking in a high tone; “I cannot believe you would let that thing use a room! Those TPW freaks are downstairs and if they find out you helped a Subject we’ll all be killed by the fucking Awakening!” The man gave a resigned grunt and, though he so desperately wanted to say something, Stephan ushered Roe forward, whispering that he couldn’t be seen and get into trouble because of it.

The two made their way to the cashiering area and lined up, only to hear the voice of the woman they had heard before once more; “I’m sorry… Subject, but company policy no longer allows us to serve your kind anymore. I’m afraid you’ll have to leave the store.” Her voice was plastered with fake kindness and although Roe seemed unsurprised, Stephan was livid. Moreover, a few people also in line turned around, a spare two letting out angry comments about the bias of the store.

“That is complete bullshit! I’ll pay for him, now piss off you cowardly bitch.” One man spoke angrily before procuring a credit card, turning Stephan’s hand roughly open and slapping it into his hand. Stephan eyed the man with total confusion; he had never seen anyone as angry as he was about the chokehold that The Awakening had the world under; it was impossible they had a large enough following to be in person to watch a random store and yet here this woman was, trying to deny service to Roe.

Moreover, an elderly woman stepped out of line and placed a few polymer bills in Stephan’s hand, equally roughly fifty Marks before uttering a few words; “My husband was a Subject and he was the greatest man I even knew. You make me sick.” She glared hatefully at the employer of the store. The rest of those in line merely shifted awkwardly, a few reaching toward wallets and purses before merely letting their hands drop.

Having given their thanks to the two who helped them paid, Roe and Stephan made their way out of the store and the latter rested against the metallic railing, sighing angrily; “That bitch!” He swore angrily, slamming his hand down on the railing. “The Awakening doesn’t even have the numbers to watch the entire freaking world like that! God, it just makes me so damned angry…” He trailed off, clenching his fist so tightly it trembled. Roe however merely looked over and shook his head. It was a logical absurdity to believe that The Awakening watched every shop and restaurant all the time and, though many thought it, Stephan refused to give their madness credence.

Alas, both knew too well already that Subjects, once readily accepted in the world, had been spurned through fear and mistrust. It was foolish and naïve of anyone to believe otherwise, and although agreeing with them was not an option for Stephan, he would admit that the world had turned against Subjects. Nevertheless he remained resolute in his stance: he would remain Roe’s friend through it all, for he had determined that the young man was worthy of his kindnesses and protection in whatever forms it could be offered.

“No, Stephan. She took an intelligent, if not moral stance.” He said calmly, though a tone of resignation could be just barely registered and it caused Stephan even more grief. Though, as he was about to speak, the screech of a microphone being plugged into a speaker ripped its way upward from the lowest floor of the mall and the angered Greek gritted his teeth before looking over the railing to see the sight the woman had talked about.

A TPW rally took placed in the centre pavilion: a large throng of supporters shouted as a central figure took the stage. Many of those gathered held up signs, and many of these signs depicted the sigil of NELO being cut in two by a pair of scissors, while others held signs of President Ehrhardt stamped with the signature red circle of prohibition on it. The man on the stage tapped the mic a few times, the loud banging once more bringing a great deal of discomfort to Stephan’s ears.

The man cleared his throat and the crowd began to quiet somewhat before he spoke; “My friends! It brings me a great deal of joy to see you here! My allies in this mall tell me there are Subjects uncounted here and this is exactly why we must gather so that they may all hear us. Subjects are the reason that The Awakening has everyone pissing themselves in fear! Many say the answer is obvious; we must merely get rid of The Awakening! That is impossible! The Awakenings hide and cowers, but the Subjects… they can be identified. Each one of them has an ID number tattooed onto the inside of their left wrist! If you see this on anyone, get rid of them! Keep them away from public places, keep them isolated!  Don’t let their selfish wish to be normal – which they can never be – spell the death for innocent true born humans!” Roe shook his head side to side, sighing sadly. The world had begun to change and most assuredly not for the better.

All rights reserved. Contact author for redistribution.
Revised July 13, 2014.