Earlier this year, I entered a writing competition that involves writing stories under restrictions, including a time limit. This is the one that I submitted for round one, that required a science-fiction story, featuring a contestant as a character along a theme of a lost cause. It had to be written in eight days. Still waiting to hear back about if I've proceeded to round two or not, so please be nice... Content warning: the story is about having the right to have children, so if that's going to cause you any problems, possibly best not to read this one. “Doctor – proximity is now sufficient to overcome the degradation in the radio signal.” The ship’s computer spoke in its toneless voice, waking Rose Lawrence from her sleep. She pulled herself from her bunk at the back of the pilot’s cabin and stretched with a yawn. Padding over to the control panels, she looked at the monitors, quickly confirming what the computer had said. “Analyse,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “Can you confirm our earlier speculation?” She’d been chasing this signal for months, heading out of explored space. When she first found it, the computer could only make out a scrambled voice and what might have been a cry for help. “Yes, Doctor,” the computer answered. “It sounds human, and seems to be a distress call on loop, though the point of origin is still distant. It is likely that we are already too late to render assistance.” “Regardless, we need to find out,” replied Lawrence. She yawned again, pulling a brush through her hair. If she had, as she suspected, found a human colony, lost since Earth’s evacuation, she should investigate, even if they didn’t need help. “Set course, maximum speed, and playback the message.” “Hello,” started the voice. It sounded female and anxious. “I hope there is somebody out there who can hear this. We are in desperate need ….” Alison walked into her house, striving to look calm. Only once she was inside did she lower herself into a chair and let it sink in. After years of thinking about it, she had finally registered. If she was lucky, she would have a chance at a child. If she was monumentally lucky. From another room, she heard the viewscreen playing – it sounded like an old historical documentary about Earth. It seemed like that kind of programme had been playing a lot recently, and she knew that Darren enjoyed them. She didn’t share his enthusiasm, but she could understand it – there was an attraction to looking back at a happier, if more naïve, time. Right then, Alison certainly didn’t want to be focussing on the past, and she couldn’t talk to Darren yet. Ignoring the sounds of surprise from her husband, she left to walk next-door. The automated door opened, and she called out: “Zoe! You here?” Zoe entered the hallway, wearing a light dressing gown that contrasted with their dark skin, towelling their hair dry. “Course I’m here. Door wouldn’t have let you in if I wasn’t.” They stopped when they saw Alison and stared at her. “You alright?” “I don’t know,” Alison replied. If she won, her life would never be the same again. Zoe bustled her in and sat her down, moving to sit nearby. They didn’t immediately ask anything, which Alison appreciated, still collecting her thoughts. “I did it, Zoe – I registered at the Commission.” Zoe didn’t respond for a moment, but then their mouth opened wide and they wrapped their arms around Alison in an excited embrace. “That’s amazing!” they exclaimed into Alison’s shoulder. “Have you told Darren?” “Not yet,” Alison replied. “There’ll be time for that if I win. If I don’t, then there’s no point.” Zoe released Alison from the hug and held her at arm’s length. “Well, sure,” they pushed, “but don’t you think your husband might want a bit of time to get used to the idea of you winning a chance to sleep with another guy?” Alison felt her face redden. “You know it’s not like that. It’s all very clinical – I’ll never even meet the guy. And Darren knows I want a child – he wants that too. I just don’t want to…” She quietened. “You don’t want to…” Zoe prompted. “If he gets excited about it and then I lose, it will be even worse. And let’s face it, my chances aren’t high – there are thousands of other applicants.” As she spoke, Alison realised that there were tears on her face. To have a child, her own child – sometimes the need was almost overwhelming. “Hey, I get it,” said Zoe, reaching out again, and laying their hand on their friend’s shoulder. “You want to keep it secret; I’ll respect that.” Alison shook her head, trying to regain control. Zoe pulled Alison into a full embrace again. “Don’t you worry, girl,” they whispered. “I’ve got your back. Now, let me go make you a drink.” The initial test results were ready a month to the day. Even knowing how tightly regulated the process was hadn’t stopped Alison checking constantly, just in case they were early. She’d chosen to walk to receive them, rather than take the hovercar, knowing that keeping up her level of fitness was even more important than usual, but now, with her stomach churning, she wished she was there already. The streets were quiet, with only occasional bustles of people to navigate around. One woman held the hand of a little girl, and Alison had to stop herself staring after them as they passed. The stores displayed luxury items in flashing adverts as she passed the windows – the only things people ever needed to buy now. Some things, though, money couldn’t buy. Outside the Commission, the usual protestors were chanting and waving electronic slogans. She raised her hand over her face and looked down to stop them recognising her and harassing her later. So many people who lived in the city simply saw the excess everywhere and that they could afford it. They saw they were almost in utopia, and thought the Commission was the only thing standing its way, controlling society’s ability to reproduce. Alison could understand why they were angry; they were so afraid of what the Commission represented, what its very existence asserted about the future, but it made her despair that their solution was to get in the Commission’s way. Her initial medical tests were clear, but before she could even jump for joy, let alone process it, she was escorted onto a Mag-Train out the city. Few people made such journeys – there was little need, and even less inclination. However, to avoid the protestors, the Commission’s main test centre was outside city limits. Out of the window, Alison saw empty streets filled with empty homes, building projects that would never be completed, because nobody would ever use those buildings. Her reflection stared back at her, life against loss, and for a moment she had the disconcerting feeling she was the only person alive in the world. She felt tears on her face. So many people that could have been here but weren’t. Each generation smaller than the last. Each desperately hoping to find an answer and reverse the trend. To no avail. Many despaired and gave up. Alison chose to hope – that she, or anybody else, or even her potential child, might find a way. But then, wasn’t the job of a parent, even a prospective one, to hope for their child, and dream of what they might accomplish, of the world they might create? And, oh, she had such dreams… The Mag-Train moved swiftly; in less than an hour she reached the testing facility. The quiet was eery; she wondered if the security person who met her at the station was used to it, or if they longed to return to the city each night. Part of Alison wished that more people would leave the city and see beyond “utopia”, but another selfish part of her was just glad to be able to enter without any difficulties. Alison entered her living room to see Zoe coming in through the front door, carrying a bottle of wine. She smiled, embracing her friend, who quickly put down the bottle and returned the hug. “I take it your tests went well?” Zoe asked. Alison let go and stepped back. “Yes – very well.” She couldn’t keep the jubilation out of her voice, even though rationally, she knew she shouldn’t be excited yet. “I’m compatible with the treatment, and within the top 10% for both physical and intellectual scores. There are just the values tests to go now.” Zoe had been finding wine glasses and pouring. “I am very glad to hear it. I’ve had this bottle of wine for ten years - a gift from the last network director when he retired – and I wouldn’t want to waste it. You know, you can’t get this wine anymore.” “Maybe we should save it then, for after I get the final results?” Alison hoped she sounded convincing – true wine was such a treat that she didn’t really want to pass it up. Zoe shook their head. “Don’t even go there. I brought this wine to be drunk. Now, tell me about the tests. They’re so hush hush about it all; my listeners would love the inside scoop!” Alison laughed as she took the glass she was being handed. “I can’t tell you much,” she explained. “There is a reason it’s all so hush hush – the Commission are committed to the system, so they don’t want people learning to game it. Just think of it as the world’s most gruelling exercise session with monitors attached, followed by exams and problem-solving tests.” Zoe gave a fake pout. “You’re no fun,” they complained. “Do you meet any of the other hopefuls?” Alison shook her head after taking a sip. “No. It’s really strange - I’m engaged in this elaborate contest, and I don’t even get to see who I’m up against. There are thousands of us competing for a handful of treatments, and the others could be anybody.” Zoe raised their hand. “You think that’s strange!” they replied. “We live in a post-scarcity world, but our entire existence is reliant on a treatment so rare that we have elaborate and secretive competitions to work out who is allowed to have children.” “I know,” Alison nodded. “We’re not dead yet though – we can still turn it around. Every child has the chance of being the one to find a solution.” Words she had heard since she was born; she, like everybody else, a product of successful tests. “Yeah,” Zoe mimicked more of the infomercial. “Which is why each child has to have the best chance from the best parents. Anyway – have you told Darren yet? He needs to be involved in the values test, doesn’t he? It’s so unfair that the people applying to be fathers don’t need go through the rest of it.” Alison nodded. “I’m telling him tonight – we’re going out for dinner. We’re going to need to work hard to show that we’ll bring the child up properly, but that we aren’t so similar that the child ends up too narrow-minded, and we don’t even know what the questions will be. And we can’t access the parenting class unless we’re going to be parents!” Zoe stood, draining their wine glass. “Well, you’ll want to get ready for tonight then, and I don’t want to get in your way. Let me know how it goes! Keep the wine – Darren should enjoy some too.” Alison sank into her sofa when she returned home from the values tests and immediately called Zoe. She needed to talk to somebody, and both she and Darren had sat in silence, considering their own experiences until it was too late - Darren had started work as soon as they were back in the city. Conveniently, he worked security at the Commission’s main city facility, but that meant that they hadn’t even been able to talk about their tests before she’d been ushered out the building. Zoe picked up straightaway. “What’s wrong?” they asked immediately. “I think we messed it up. I don’t know – I’ve just left the tests with a really bad feeling.” Alison’s voice was muted, and she wasn’t sure what was giving her the feeling of dread. Had they messed up their tests? At this point, it was impossible to know. The crowds around the Commission building had seemed angrier than usual today, which always shook her. Perhaps that was all it was. “What happened? Do you want me to come over?” Zoe’s voice was filled with concern. “No, no – don’t come over,” Alison insisted. “I don’t know what’s wrong – I just have a bad feeling.” Alison could hear Zoe’s viewscreen faintly in the background – not enough for words, but enough to pick up on the tone. It sounded like a news report, and the reporter sounded anxious. “Looks like you got home just in time,” Zoe muttered. “The protests around the Commission have turned into a full-blown riot. Doesn’t Darren work there?” Alison turned on her own viewscreen to watch the same news story, seeing what Zoe had reported. A riot around the Commission’s City facility. Protestors fighting with security. She heard a beep from her commsputer. “Zoe – I’m sorry, I have another call. Talk to you later?” Zoe agreed and Alison pressed the button to transfer to the other call. “Doctor Etso?” A male voice inquiring. “Yes,” Alison replied. “Who is this?” “Doctor Etso – this is Doctor Maddison. I’m calling from the hospital. I’m afraid your husband has been injured. Can you come in?” Zoe opened the door to Alison’s. “Hey?” they called, placing flowers on a counter. Alison gave her friend a tired smile. “Hey”. Zoe moved to hug her, “How’s Darren?” “He’s sleeping upstairs,” Alison replied. “He’ll be ok.” “Have you heard the news?” asked Alison. Zoe shook their head. “The rioters destroyed part of the treatment supply,” Alison continued. “They haven’t revealed how much is left, but…” They both lapsed into silence. “I got the message this morning that I won,” Alison said after a few moments. “I guess I get part of that supply. I’m going to … to... to be a mother…” “And you and Darren will make great parents,” said Zoe. “Maybe your kid will be the one to solve this.” Alison gave her friend that same tired smile. “We can hope. I just … people are trying to destroy our only chance. I don’t… I just… What if my baby is alone?” Zoe stopped her. “They won’t be. And, anyway, my station have started something. We’ve dedicated one of our radio masts to sending a request for help into space. Even if nobody on our planet can solve this, there might be somebody else out there who can.” The planet below Lawrence was clearly the origin of the signal – the ship’s systems could pinpoint the mast, still transmitting within a deserted city.
“Computer – scan the planet,” ordered Lawrence. She’d known that they might be too late but was still hoping against hope that there might be something left. “Zero human life, doctor,” replied the computer, its monotone at odds with its pronouncement. She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. “Too late then?” she asked, not expecting an answer. “I believe we were too late before we began,” responded the computer. Lawrence nodded. “Let’s go down. We owe it to Zoe to at least learn what we can.”
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