Source: www.wallpaper.co
This is the first part of a SciFi short story. I will post the next part in a few days. Oh! And spoiler alert: The whole story is about eighteen-thousand words long and it's full cyberpunk/sci-fi, In the next month I plan on posting some fantasy as well. It's a "long" short story :) So this would be a sort of... teaser... I guess.
Death lottery is a series of seven SF short stories placed in the same universe, as seen, felt and interpreted by different characters. The entire story will amount in terms of content to a novel.
Death Lottery - The Martyr
Victor Rayne
3rd of January, 2066
At the hospital
“I am really sorry. These are your results, Mrs. Simmons.”
This is Dr. Miller talking in a rather bored tone of voice. Of course, nobody can blame a doctor for his attitude, considering that passing unfortunate news is a task forced upon one who is an oncologist, and psychological comforting is not exactly Doctor Miller’s responsibility.
“Is there nothing else that can be done?” I interfere peevishly, perhaps a little too tense. I frankly don’t know if my tone was proper or not, nor do I care.
Everything was perfect at some point in time. Our lives were finally gaining that contour that we have imagined so long ago. We were on the right track with our little recruitment business. From a common agency located in the basement of a mansion, me and my wife somehow managed to break the ice. We steadily gained our fame in the corporate world and after two short years of activity, we were the desert subjected as an apple of discord by all the major companies at that time. Everybody wanted us. Our income grew and grew so we built a house for ourselves. Nothing grand or opulent, just a place for us to call home with our hearts and minds at peace.
“My dear, there is no need to direct your anger at the doctor, he is not at fault for this.”
“I’m not directing my anger Eva, I just wish to know what is there to be done. Look!” I intone, snatching the holopad containing her test results from Dr. Miller’s hand. I noted his resentful glare, but it’s not like I actually care for his feelings.
“It’s not like the cancer metastasized, it’s just in an advanced state. It can still be treated.”
“Indeed!” rumbled the deep, bass voice that dr. Miller proudly owns. “It can be treated and cured like any other cancer, and believe me, Mr. Simmons, I shall do anything that I can to stop its development and cure Eva. Still, I do have to warn you…”
And now it begins. Money! Knowing what he was going to say, I prefer to mentally reject his words. I already know the huge costs for curing cancer. Sixty thousand dollars for chemo, two hundred and fifty thousand dollars for that new treatment that I have read about three weeks ago. I can’t specifically remember its name, but it was something astonishing with one hundred percent rate of success. I don’t even dare thinking about hospitalization, medication and other taxes. I know the costs of cancer in this pit of a country and we are among the very few who can’t afford it.
As I was saying, everything used to be perfect. Me and Eva owned a little house located in the Metropolitan area of New York. We could have bought a place in a more central location, but both of us wanted a big yard and as few neighbours as possible. Two years after, a tiny miracle named Mila appeared in our lives. At that point, we decided that she will be an only child as our jobs were quite demanding and time-consuming. A beautiful year passed, a year marked by nothing less than joy, blissfulness and all in all, perfection. Mila proved to be a little genius, as when she was seven months old she took her first steps and one month later she spoke her first word. It would have been impossible for me to imagine such a wonderful life back when I met Eva in college. I felt privileged, I felt happy and I was complete. However, life is uncertain.
When our little angel was one year old, a new technology emerged. A technology that shaped society as we know it today. A technology which became part of our lives. That’s when Stein emerged, accompanied by his suite of holopads, holovisors and lots of other crazy accessories. Humanity had evolved.
Stein meant our downfall. At first, the idea of automatic analysis of individual data based on different sets of mandatory tests starting since childhood, seemed as a good idea. It actually is, but not for us.
Shortly put, recruitment companies became useless, void, so our little business faded as fast as it sparked, leaving us with a great nothing. Hiring is now processed in a much simpler manner, directly through the holopad. Each and every individual has a personal profile uploaded in the mainframe. The profile is created with the help of a rigorous set of tests that reveal each specific quality and aptitude that an individual possesses. Even street corner stalls hire directly through Stein. The world took one step forward to the future as we became the past.
“Let’s go, darling. We need to pick up Mila from her biology studies.”
Imprisoned in my thoughts it took me a few seconds to perceive Eva’s message. Shook back into reality, I insistently stare at her. I can easily read in her eyes the same worries and questions that I have, but she manages to remain composed. I can’t lose her, Mila can’t lose her. Without making a sound I give back Dr. Miller’s holopad, I nod and start walking towards the exit. Eva reminds him to send us the test results and the almost instant, short beep assigned to notifications on our holopads confirms the doctor’s efficiency.
In the street
“They don’t have much, but they can help us with a quarter of the total sum for chemo. It’s basically all that they have, including savings. Should I try Vicky? Maybe she can help too.”
Her parents conceptually adopted me. I am an orphan since I was twelve, my folks died in a stupid car crash, back when cars needed to be driven. After that rather difficult moment, I was forced to live with the one and only relative that could take me in, my alcoholic auntie. Unfortunately, she found herself unable to cope with her sister’s death and the only target during her euphoric drunkenness was, of course, me. One year later I ran as far as I could and I started working in parallel with my schooling. I had nobody before her and both her and Mila are everything to me. I can’t and I won’t lose her!
“Vicky’s broke. She called in yesterday asking for a hundred dollars so she can buy something to eat until her pay-check. Eva,” I yelp, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, “What about Mila?”
“What about her? For now, we can’t tell her anything. It’s pointless to burden her with this.”
After the birth of Stein, we were forced to sell our house. We acquired a small flat in Brooklyn and the remaining money lasted for a few years. We both started working random jobs, whatever was available. At least Stein proved useful for us in this aspect, it was the least it could do. We struggled as hard as possible with our Skill Tests so that we can find jobs with a high salary, but besides management, which was basically dead, neither me nor Eva knew too much. I started studying nano-programming, but the college taxes were unaffordable and I was forced to drop school. That little balloon of perfection had just popped, turning our lives in a rather dark, angry turmoil, filled with fear and insecurities.
“All right, we tell her nothing then. I can try searching for a second job, something part-time maybe. I’d like you to avoid chemo. Maybe we can somehow raise enough money for that new treatment, you know, the one they were advertising on the holo-net. It was something about artificial regeneration of God knows what cells.”
“We can try, of course, but I wouldn’t get too excited about it. Let’s face reality as it is, we’re poor and that’s that.” She replies giggling as if nothing is wrong. Even in moments such as this, she keeps her composure, she stays strong, way stronger than me. Personally, I am worried sick. My knees are as soft as a cushion and my hearts beats like a tribal drum slammed by an angry, savage chieftain. The thought of failure, of not being able to save her is driving me insane.
I can’t lose her! I will not lose her!
17th of February, 2066
In the living room
“How much do we have?”
The sound of her voice aches. It’s been two months since she was diagnosed and we barely raised half of the total sum required for chemo, I don’t even dare thinking about Regenotherapy. I push the palms of my hands against my temples and I sigh:
“28,395 dollars, that is the total amount we currently have in our accounts. I’ve tried borrowing some money from my colleagues, but nobody trusts anybody… Plus this is a new job, so people don’t know me all too well there and I don’t have any good friend at work… You know how it is, we’re all the same, totems of the past in an age that has left us behind. Our insurance can cover ten grand, and all banks have categorically refused to give us a loan because: <We don’t have any guarantee that you can return such an amount. The data on your holopad points towards a precarious financial situation.>” I impersonate the arrogant, high and mighty bankers who cut my wings and hopes. “I can try the lottery. You know… in case we can’t find any other method.”
“I don’t even want to hear about it!” Eva cries suddenly. In a way, I can understand her reaction, I myself wouldn’t have easily swallowed such a suggestion coming from her. “No way, absolutely no way! Remove this thought from your head here and now! I forbid you to go there, I do. I swear that I have never breached your right of freedom, but now I forbid you to do such a thing. Look at me!” she demands angrily, “if you do that I will never forgive you!”
A thin, translucent layer of water covers her eyes. Those beautiful green eyes, showered with tiny yellow particles around the pupil. Her lower lip shivers which means that my suggestion awoke strong feelings within her. I came to know her so well that I don’t need any verbal confirmation to understand and know her feelings. I start towards her and I place my palms on her head, digging my fingers in her dry, blond hair. I embrace her, pushing her head against my chest and I feel her warmth. I notice her fingers crawling up on my spine, her forearms wrapping my thorax… I will not lose her! I can, under no circumstance, allow her warmth to fade, to meet oblivion. With enough money, she could live hundreds of years. ReGenesys, the greatest medical lab there is, discovered quite some time ago how to counter the rapid degeneration of the human body. All one has to do is pay a few million dollars and there you have it, a lifespan lasting centuries.
I gently kiss the crown of her head and tiny locks of shaggy hair tickle the inside of my nostrils.
“Relax, I promise I won’t do that. Besides, there is a slight possibility I’ll sign a contract with Jaques Revenant. Michael, that blonde, tall guy from work, you know him… We went out a few weeks ago with him and his fiancée for dinner, I think it was at Gemini’s… Whatever, this guy knows Jaques. I’ve explained him my situation and I showed him a few paintings. He liked them and he’ll talk with Jaques in the respect of organizing an art expo at ‘The Revenant’. That would bring us a ton of money.”
“Jaques Revenant? Are you serious? That would be great! Don’t get too excited, as you usually do. There is a high chance for this not to work, but I honestly wish you the best!”
I managed to distract her a bit and her tears dissipated. That is all I wanted to see. Amongst other things, I am a painter. Not a brilliant one, but I’m not terrible either. It’s just a hobby of mine, a Saturday evening activity and Jaques Revenant, the mighty painter, couldn’t think less of me.
And Michael… Michael is the kind of man that seems to be living under the impression that the universe revolves around him. He is my boss, he is a nice superior, laid back, not very demanding, but he is a very haughty person. He has a “hot” girlfriend, a “hot” car and a “hot” suit, and that’s all that matters to him. Michael Reinmoore, the boss, couldn’t think less of me.
In the street
I am heading emphatically towards my last beacon of hope, Lemnia Bank. It has probably the worst reputation in the history of banking. I am completely certain that a three hundred thousand dollars loan would be declined instantly, but maybe I can at least borrow enough so that we can cover chemo. I can’t think of anything else besides making as much money as possible. I can’t start selling drugs for instance. That could have been a fast source of income ten years ago, but now, with ReGenesys, all drugs are legal and have no negative impact on health. However, they can only be purchased through the holopad and every individual has a certain ratio. The ratio is calculated basing of everybody’s mental configuration. This way, our human mind remains unaffected by mental alterations or behavioural changes caused by drugs. We are finally in an age which my grandfather, may he rest in peace, a true junkie as he was, would have loved to see.
Everything is now monitored and controlled by Stein. He is everywhere. Stein is with us in the city, watching through heat signature and x-ray cameras. He can see everything and when somebody is not in the system, Stein alerts the authorities. If a pregnant woman did not declare her pregnancy and Stein sees it, he instantly sends a notification on the holopad, kindly asking for her to enter the closest hospital and register the embryo in the medical system so that preliminary tests may begin. Stein is so kind that he even goes the extra mile so he even uploads a map with a trajectory set to the nearest hospital and he offers a free Magnetrain ride for pregnant women.
As I’m walking, I get shoved by a man who, like me, is probably trapped inside his thoughts. I apologize, but he throws a curse at me. His clothes are ragged and stained, reeking of cheap alcohol and the wet shimmer in his eyes betrays his condition. He is drugged, and most likely, he’s a junker. They are the pariah, the ones who are hiding from Stein. They are the ones who own a holopad, but they never use it. They walk among us with their faces hidden behind masks, walking only through shady streets, always avoiding boulevards or main routes, always hiding from the omnipresent eye of our benefactor. Just like me, he is a relic of the past in a world that has long since moved on.
I don’t give him attention, but yet he continues with his shower of curses. He snatches my collar and he stares at me awkwardly. His pupils dilate, becoming little orbs of blackness and for a reason unknown to me, he lets me go, he embraces me and he whispers:
“I’m sorry, you don’t need this now.”
He simply vanishes somewhere before I get to ask him something. His whisper passed a dreadful gift to me. It stirred that pot of mixed feelings boiling inside of me and my eyes fill with tears. Today is a strange day and life sure is uncertain.
I finally reach the bank and just before I enter, my holopad lights up and Stein salutes me politely. Of course, he is aware of my attempts at receiving a loan, so I guess he decided to spare me of another embarrassing moment. He brings up a written document on my holopad bearing the next message:
“I have transmitted a loan request towards Lemnia Bank with a total value of thirty thousand dollars. Negative response.”
I exhale disappointed and head back home.
3rd of April, 2066
In the bedroom
“How are you feeling?” I ask her clouded by worry.
Mila is still at school and I was supposed to be at work. What I’ve told Eva about Michael is not totally untrue, he really knows of our situation. Fortunately, he agreed to give me a paid leave for today. Eva is in terrible shape since she woke up. She coughs dreadfully, her shoulders and chest hurt and her temperature is quite high. She totally refuses to eat anything and she simply lies in bed and coughs her lungs out.
“Did you speak with the doctor?” she asks with a faint, guttural voice.
“I did. He tried to speak with his superiors, but they declined. We can start chemo with thirty grand, but they didn’t accept a longer term for the payment. We have no choice, we must pay the rest during the next twelve months, that’s all he could manage.”
“See now, Miller isn’t that bad. He really tries to fight them, but there’s nothing he can do.”
“I know, I know. I really misjudged the man.”
“Can you please hand me a glass of water darling?”
“Of course, coming right up!”
I carefully get out of bed as not to disturb or shake Eva and I head towards our kitchen. Mila started to suspect something. We told her that mommy has caught a cold, but lies don’t work too well on her. She can see Eva, she can see that her face is undermined and her eyes are almost grey. She notices the emptiness and anguish written by pain all over her mother. Tomorrow, we finally start chemo. The next three weeks will be horrific. Even though humanity has evolved, we are still forced to choose the cheap treatment, the one designed for the poor, a treatment that kills everything inside. I can’t figure out how we will be able to explain to Mila why mommy lost her hair or why mommy lost so much weight or why mommy can no longer lift Mila in her arms.
Another burst of aggressive coughs breaks our flat’s monotonous silence. Thinking back, it wasn’t that bad before, even though we struggled. At least I had the certainty that she will be there tomorrow, in a week or month or year, but now all has changed. Chemo is the same as it used to be, in has a high chance of failure and if it fails there is only but one option left for me.
I deliver the glass of water and I silently watch while she clutches her skeletal fingers around it. I can see her shivering, fighting to hide her pain and this destroys me. I kiss her forehead and I fight bravely against tears who wish to pour out as an angry river during a flood. As I embrace her, I whisper:
“I won’t lose you. I’ll do all I can for you to be well again.”
6th of August, 2066
At the hospital
“I’m terribly sorry Mister Simmons, but the results look very bad. Without Regenotherapy she won’t last long. Chemo failed. Unfortunately, this happens sometimes. The cancer is still spreading in your wife’s lungs.”
This is the moment when the foundations of my little world are shattered to splinters. I am a little fly squashed against the windshield of existence and nonchalantly wiped by a cold stream of Teflon-spray. I peer towards Eva’s hospital bed and watch her sleep. I try to change my view about her, but all I can see is death. With her eyes deepened in their sockets, her bald, glossy head, bony cheeks and pale skin she even looks . I clutch my teeth in resent, my eyes fixed on Doctor Miller’s expensive shoes, fearing that if I look him in the eye, I’ll probably strike him dead. I swallow my words, twist on my heels and charge out of the hospital, accompanied by our ever-faithful Stein, who reminds me of my debt towards the hospital.
At the lottery
A pair of black doors automatically opens before my eyes, revealing a magnificent metallic desk, gleaming silver rays of light in a huge chamber. The room holds no windows and it is dressed in an austere garment made of grey basalt, protected by a thick, glistening layer of Antishock foam. A cold, feminine voice coming from some speakers embedded in the walls invites me in:
“Welcome to Death Lottery, for information please solicit our operator from the reception desk.”
My heart turns into a tight knot situated right under Adam’s apple. I fill my lungs with air and start towards the massive office located at the far end of the huge chamber. A Syncro, last year’s model, the one covered in a netting made of carbonate poli-alloy wires, the same material that ReGenesys is using for artificial muscles, welcomes me on a cheerful tone:
“Good day,” it takes a short break in order to scan my holopad. “Mister Simmons. How can I be of service today?”
It is my first time talking to a Syncro and I feel quite uncomfortable. It looks like a woman, a beautiful one, but her skin colour is matte grey and her eyes have an artificial, neon-like, blue glimmer. Her moves are unnatural, jerky, mechanical. Even though she imitates human kinetics, I can feel her artificial soul. I work my voice with a loud cough and I ask:
“What is the Jackpot for non-lethal diseases?”
She pauses for a moment to bring up the information I required and then she speaks:
“For today, the Jackpot at the non-lethal diseases category is seven million dollars for muscular dystrophy. I’ll have you know that the odds of winning a grand prize in this category is very small. At the lethal diseases category, you can win a minimum of one million and two hundred thousand dollars for the common cancer. You even have the option of choosing your preferred type of cancer.”
I feel as I’m suffocating so I try to keep the conversation non-lethal related.
“I am not interested in that category. Where must I go for the non-lethal one?”
“Please take the door on your left.” the Syncro replies automatically, pointing towards a door identical to the one at the front.
“Thank you. Have a good day.”
“A good day to you too, Mister Simmons.”
Honestly, I can’t think of a solid reason for which I chose to be polite towards a robot, but its existence raised pity within me. I reach the indicated door and it opens in front of me. It actually disappears, such as a hologram would do, and behind that veil of blackness, a tall man dressed in a white robe presents himself:
“Doctor Adler, happy to meet you Mister Simmons. This way please.”
I follow the bulky doctor Adler into another room. A huge holoscreen gravitates in the centre of the setup, guarded by a cylinder-shaped stand with a red button on top. Adler stops by the stand and motions me to join him. Frankly, I think that just as me, he would prefer to keep our conversation as brief as possible so I don’t make a sound and simply follow his command.
“All you need to do is to simply press this button. Before, we need your verbal accord which will be recorded by my holopad. The recording will contain the vocal signature you synchronized with Stein. Please repeat after me: I agree to obey the rules and the internal code of regulations designed by Death Lottery, together with all its additions and annexes. I shall respect all the procedures at hand and in case I will breach the legislative, functional articles written in the internal code of regulations, I consent the prejudice created by my actions towards the company and I agree to pay the fine established in Article 2893, paragraph 6, The Legislative and Functional Code of the Global Council, in total value of ten million dollars or 10 GFC units. Quote your name afterwards please.”
“I agree to obey the rules of the internal code and the regulations designed by Death Lottery and all its additions and annexes. I will respect all the procedures at hand and in case I will breach the legislative articles written in the internal code of regulations, I consent the prejudice created by my actions towards the company and I agree to pay the fine established in Article 2893, paragraph 6, The Legislative and Functional Code of the Global Council, in total value of ten million dollars or 10 GFC units, Simmons.”
“Your name is enough, you don’t need to quote the surname as well. Listen closely as I will briefly explain how things work. After you press the button you will see your prize on the holoscreen right there. Today we will inoculate the mutagens using an intravenous, painless shot. During the full extent of your condition, you are strictly forbidden to undergo any forms of treatment and you are obliged to visit me twice a week so that I can check the disease’s progress. The visits will be scheduled by us. As you may well know, Death Lottery is completely free and the prizes are given according to the disease's duration and effects. The selection algorithm is random. Practically, Stein generates the diseases and its duration in a chaotic manner. Once you press the button there is no turning back. Are you prepared?”
With my eyes sealed shut, without hesitation in order to keep my determination, I slam the button. My mind is focused only on Eva, I must do this for her. I slowly open my eyes and I gaze at the screen. My heart pounds as an old African tribal drum. Even though the holoscreen shows a rather disappointing result I feel a selfish release that sickens me. My prize: a common cold spanning on a total duration of six days. Total prize: 100 dollars.
“Just as Salma, the Syncro at the reception, told you, the prizes in this category are quite low. You will have your next chance in six days after we administer the instant healing antibodies. Come this way please.”
Doctor Adler leads me to another chamber. As we emerge I notice the simplicity of this new room. It is very well lit and plain white. Stacks of organized vials filled with colored liquid are suspended alongside the walls, most likely being kept in balance by a magnetic field. Right in the centre of the chamber, there is a humongous chair on which I sit at the doctor’s request. It is very comfortable and cosy, I feel like I’m sinking in it.
“Rhinovirus please.” The imposing doctor intones with his rumbling voice.
A small compartment situated on the left side of my chair opens with a loud, metallic click. The doctor rubs his hands thoroughly with a disinfectant gel that is also sold in commerce. This gel has one hundred percent efficiency, or so they say. It is developed and mass produced by ReGenesys and sold throughout the whole world. With a gracious hand motion, he removes a tiny syringe filled with a yellow, fluorescent liquid.
“Relax Mister Simmons, it will be over in a second.”
He applies the disinfectant solution on my forearm as well, palpates my veins and sticks in the tiny needle. Instantly, I feel a terrible itch, but it goes away in a matter of seconds and I start sneezing.
“Bless you, Mister Simmons. Please head to reception to cash in your prize.”
As I walk towards reception I start coughing. It’s not bad at all, it’s just a cold. I’ve been through worse back in childhood. As I reach Salma she scans my holopad with a feint blue pulsation in her unnatural, discomforting eyes. The notification sound beeps with an audible echo inside this huge room. I open the projection and I select my bank account. Just as I was expecting the money have been instantly transferred there. I exit the building feeling relief, disappointment, sickness towards my cowardice and frustration for not winning anything solid.
Standard copyright license
(Devised by the man who is in charge of Death Lottery, you will meet him eventually. He is... a nice guy...)
Love,
Live,
A Fantasy, Cyberpunk, SF,
Culture.
Victor Rain