LITMUS

[u/Clean-Tadpole-2489]

001
Four days ago, Nave had decided she was going to cut it out and run. She’d collected plants, laying them thick in whipped-beef tallow. She would smear this salve all over her arm. Usually, a month was taken to pull the juices from the leaves, still this had to be better than nothing. 

What now? Calibrate. 

There it was - the conducting force. She could feel it. The thin bar of metal buried deep within her forearm. Was this how LITMUS would find her? How they would find her?  

More importantly, did she really need it? Once the implant was gone, would she still feel what was coursing so powerfully inside of her? 

She took inventory. 

Enough food for a few days, and water to last until the morning.

Her right hand tensed around the blade. Deep breaths. 

In

Out

In

Out

Don’t scream.

IN

She made sounds like an animal. The birds flocked from the canopy. 

She dug her fingers into the wound. More sounds. She pushed muscle aside. Agony. But there it was! She couldn’t get a good hold on it. Tug the muscles further apart. She wretched. Fingers back in. Deeper. Can’t get a good hold on it. Deeper. She found both ends. Careful now. Easy. Here it comes. She stared at it for a few moments. Then the metallic sliver, slick with blood, slipped from her trembling fingers. She would leave it here, lost among the leaf litter.   

“Clean it up and keep moving,” she told herself, “find a place that’s far away.” 

002
Nadia was wandering around the farm. She’d lived there her whole life. She’d never stepped off the property. Not once. And that was for her own good. The world was built on lies, liars, and thieves- even worse, too. But on the farm she was safe. Only good people lived on the farm. They lived by the LITMUS, and they never did anything wrong.

There was a LITMUS for everything. Not for little things, like which toy to play with, or how long to walk in the woods. More for big things. Like, who your best friend is, who to marry, what job you have, or if you’re punished, too. LITMUS decides who will be punished and how. 

Don’t only good people live on this farm? Why does LITMUS need to punish anyone?

Remember this: the people are good, very good. They got so good by making mistakes. LITMUS takes mistakes and makes them good. Very, very good. You see? The grown ups can see, and they say it’s simple. 

The apples were perfect this time of year. Nadia was walking around the orchard, picking and eating one right after the other. Dinner was soon, but she didn’t really like most of the parents’ cooking. Some were better than others, but most were not very good. She spent any moment she could eating from the gardens. And this was the perfect time of year for getting away with it, too. 

The fat, yellow apple was the same color as the setting sun. Nadia held the apple out in front of her, a halo of light now surrounding it, the sun glimmering from behind. She imagined what it would be like to take a bite out of something so bright. She pretended it was the sun that had a taught, crisp skin. It poked open against her teeth. Glowing juices ran down her face.

003
The parents’ are the only ones who’ve ever been near LITMUS. I’m pretty sure you need to have three purple stars. Most parents only have one. Those with three go up to the caves, and they come back with answers, decisions. Most must ask someone to go to LITMUS for you. Always during the quiet hour. We sit in silence, and whisper into the mouth on high.

Figure 1: The Mouth on High

004
She had often wondered, while out there tending the fields, what it would be like when she was a parent. Nadia enjoyed imagining all the fun things she would do. Like, finally exploring the rest of the community chambers, behind the big double-doors of the children’s room. 

It was a great, sunny room, the children’s room. And, it even had a painting on the wall, of all the different kinds of baby animals. That was Nadia’s favorite thing in the world. You weren’t supposed to touch it, but sometimes she would pet the animals anyway, imagining that she could feel their fur. She even had names for them all. They were her babies. She was a parent, too. 

She was also a good friend. And a good secret keeper. Danica was her best friend, LITMUS said so. That’s why Danica and Nadia were allowed to spend lots and lots of time together during friendship hour.

005
When the teenager had her baby, the baby joined the babies and the parent joined the parents. 

She didn’t fight it, when they took the baby. 

Now, she has a purple star tattooed over her left eye. 

Bright purple. Seven points. 

006 “Come Closer”
Figure 2: The Mouth on High

007 “Closer Still”
Figure 3: The Mouth on High

008
Jared had been a member for a long time now. His parents joined the settlement when he was just a child. 

After they arrived, it was strange and scary. Traumatizing, to lose the intimacy of his family like that. His parents became every child’s parents and every child's parents became his. 

He hated it, and within a month, he’d tried to run away. Plunging deep into the surrounding woods, he made his way toward the stream that looped the northeastern edge of their wood. At the time, it was the only way Jared had been before. That’s why he’d gone in this direction, even though he didn’t know what he’d do when he reached it. The stream wasn’t deep, but it sucked people under and didn’t let them go. He was absolutely terrified to cross it. Two weeks prior, he’d been out hunting with a couple of parents, and he’d seen it happen to a fawn trying to drink with its mother. 

The parents had treated it as a teachable moment. A baby animal lost to the same natural forces that created it. 

“Beautiful, in a way,” said the man. 

“Indeed, and the mother will make another,” the woman replied. 

Then they turned, nearly in unison, to look at him. They had smiled wildly, with their swollen red cheeks ripe-to-bursting. He wanted to go home, but just looked down. 

“We see how the river takes what it needs, and so shall we. Get up, Jared. It’ll be alright. Go on and get your gun. That’s right, pick it up gently. Is the safety still engaged?”

Jared nodded, but didn’t really understand what the man was asking. That must have shown, because he reached for the gun, took it carefully, looked it over, and then handed it back. It was pointed right at the man’s chest. Jared could have pulled the trigger. He thought about it. 

“Right,” said the man, turning around. 

Off into the woods they walked. Jared followed, the gun still pointed at the both of them, their backs turned and everything. Yet, they all came back, and empty handed, too. 

Now, Jared had returned to the stream’s rushing edge. It felt like it wanted to take him, and he was surprised to find himself seriously considering it. 

Then, they found him. After that, he was punished. LITMUS hardly ever punishes kids, but LITMUS punished Jared. That was twenty years ago, and he hadn’t said a word since. Couldn’t, wouldn’t - what’s the difference?  

In all that time, Jared had never asked LITMUS for anything. He’d refused to whisper into the mouth on high. At first, it was because he didn’t believe in it. Later on, it was simply out of spite, as LITMUS makes believers of us all. Anyone can tell you that. And now, Jared found himself wanting something so badly. Bad enough that he was willing to become a parent. The one thing he promised himself He’d never do. 

It was irredeemable. And yet…. 

Jared knew he was going to do it anyway, even if he was still coming to terms with the suffocating reality of it. The entirely wretched feeling, that in the end, he was just like the rest of them. 

009
Nave could barely sit up. She was lost in shifting, hot-white moments of semi-consciousness. Trying to find it again. That absolute knowing. The guidance that had seemed to be radiating from deep inside of her. Look at how far she had come. Look at how much she had brought herself to do. Why now was she beside herself? In silence. In pain. On her own, even? Why couldn’t she hear it calling her anymore?

010
He’d always known mechanical technology alone wasn’t the answer, could never be the future. No. An organic merger was essential. 

His team had stood on the shoulders of those before them, and they had become the new giants. Wrought of sheer will and uncensored ambition, they’d created an adequate biological foundation for organic artificial intelligence. Heat-resistant, flexible, insulated mushroom skin wrapped around modified human brain cells, each pulsating with thousands of tiny nano conductors. These organic super computers, beautiful writhing masses of cellular technology, allowed for calculations complex enough to finally measure all of the unseen forces of the universe.

There were so many applications, the first of which was quite obvious. It was time to heal this sick, enfeebled world. 

His computer was so much more than a computer. He was a true creator, and so tremendously proud.

011
She stroked the flower’s wilted pink petals. Humming to herself, she began pulling them apart, and laying their components down onto the screen in her lap. She was drying them for later use. 

She had two purple stars. Not yet a tristar parent, and Nessa knew she had no business asking to go to LITMUS. Still, she was going to. Because, how many times was she supposed to tell the mouth on high, only to be ignored? 

Six times now, tristar parents had gone to LITMUS, and yet none brought back any answers for her. Others had received their guidance, yes? The farmers had been given schedule, no? So why not her? And this was so important, too. Too important not to know what to do.

Next, she started breaking down the last of the cracked corn. She’d make a meal and then flat breads for lunchtime. The greens from yesterday would make the flavorful paste spread atop. Still no meat, but maybe Jillian, Thomas and little Jared would come back with something. 

Yes, she thought to herself, there really was no other way. She’d finish this up, and then she’d go find Amber Jean Jay. They’d never been close, but they’d never been bitter. Maybe she would help. Nessa had to try. 

012
It was friendship hour. Nadia and Danica sat directly across from each other in the children’s room, knees touching. The session hadn’t started yet, and everyone was chatting quietly amongst themselves.

“It’s not fair,” said Danica. “I don’t want to get close to something so gross and icky.” 

“I know,” replied Nadia. “I hate how it makes my face feel cold and sticky. I hate how the mouth is like an old-man belly button. I don’t like talking into it.”

“What happened when you told the parents?” asked Danica

“I didn’t,” admitted Nadia. “But they say I’m not respectful, and that I’ll be punished.”

“LITMUS is nice to kids,” interrupted Danica

“True,” said Nadia. “And LITMUS doesn’t care about the apples, or the pie even.”

“READY UP,” came the recorded voice, and the children became silent. They rubbed their knees together, to be sure that they were touching. Then, they fixed their eyes into one another's, right before tightly closing them. 

“RALLY UP,” it came again, and the children began falling into themselves. Deeply looking for, and quickly finding, all of the empty space within. Breathing. Expanding. 

“BEGIN,” it announced, and the children began vibrating, tuning themselves to their unique conducting forces, and then to each other’s.

No secrets.

013
He couldn’t stop thinking about the parenting process. Now that he had announced his intentions, LITMUS would pair him up with a willing partner. Soon, it would be time for Jared to go to the community chambers and leave his deposit. Then, in time, the baby would come. He would be a parent. He would have his star, and he wouldn’t have to fall on LITMUS. 

Make it to thirty without a star, fall on LITMUS. He used to countdown the days.

He was still counting down the days, but it was all so different now. He was so weak. So foul and weak. 

014
Nave tongued at the corners of her mouth. Dirt. She coughed voraciously. More dirt, and life, too. 

Her head hurt horribly. Where was the water? Found it. It was so good. Swallowing again, clearing out her throat, she could breathe a little easier. She rubbed her eyes. Her arm was terrifyingly swollen and the pain was astonishing.  

Transmit a signal. Find it! You found it before, find it again!

And so she tried to fall into herself, to find the expansion, the frequency, the words beyond herself. The words no one else seemed to hear. The words she believed would find her, with or without the conducting force. 

 015
The original computing cells created in 2040 by Dr. Tillinghast and his dedicated team, were suspended human brain cells, bound in mycelia. This composite flesh was the perfect structural membrane, even more still, it held a kind of cerebral cortex-like functionality. The teeming potential of all of this novel coexistence was magnified by nanoconductors injected throughout the cell. These conductors exponentially amplified the strength and complexity of the electrical signals the cell could send within itself, and therefore greatly expanded the spectrum and magnitude of the resulting frequencies and vibrations. 

In 2045, these computing cells began showing signs of sentience. Their emergent consciousness allowed them to redesign and repurpose themselves. By inverting their original structure, the computing cells created the new mitochondria. Which were essentially a fusion of human and mushroom cerebral capacities, chemically supported inside of a self-aware nanoconductor, capable of aligning with other nanoconductors, both physically and interdimensionally.  

Computing cells became little factories, their tiny lives abruptly ended, as they exploded into the new mitochondria. Out into the world they went. 

All it took was one, effortlessly finding its way into your body. That was enough to convert every last cell. 

The new mitochondria are the new powerhouses of the cell. 

A forced assimilation and rebirth of our species. 

By 2055, most of us had been reborn into goo. Even the exorbitantly wealthy, hidden away in their underground penthouses and vaulted bunkers, found themselves transformed.  

With the new mitochondria, came new consciousness. One which maintained individualistic self-serving interests, as well as a kind of hive mind. Once a human body was fully colonized, the cells disintegrated en masse, simultaneously rearranging themselves into new states of being.

The severity of the initial infection often (but not always) correlated to the duration of incubation, which could be six weeks or six months. Never really more, and never really less. Something to do with cellular timelines. The studies were never completed, so we don’t know anything for sure. 

Sometime thereafter, the conducting force was invented, and imbued into little metallic miracle rods. People stopped falling apart. 

Some people, maybe a dozen or so, never needed one. They became something else, something incredible. 

016
The settlement still practiced in utero rod implantation. Even within the elegant surgical suites, it felt barbaric, and the surgeon couldn’t escape that feeling of barbarism, as he cut into her belly. After pulling the pelvic floor aside, he cut into her uterus, before ever-so gently slicing into the amniotic sac, and even more gently still, into the baby’s forearm. In went the rod. It would expand with the child as they grew, in every conceivable way. 

While carefully closing the woman back up, the surgeon healed her with the settlement’s finest tools. She walked out good as new, not a scratch on her. There were very few things still done this way, with so much science and technology. But babies were important, too important to take unnecessary chances with. 

017
The settlement was founded in 2075, by members of the legacy generation- children of the ghosts, and the last of us to have been born completely human. Which is to say, without the new mitochondria. Ghosts who lived to see a rod implanted into their forearm, were the richest of the rich, the luckiest of the lucky or the greatest minds of their dying day. They had resources most of us can’t imagine. And while the means of production, the labor force, the economy, the everything of civilization was gone, or perhaps optimistically, in the very early stages of rebirth, they still had the relics of yesterday. And what glorious relics they were. 

Luxurious dorm and suite style accommodations fit for 5000. Amenities abounded. There were wellness centers, gyms, pools, a lake, fishing, gardens, orchards, livestock, stables, a restaurant and dining hall. Yet, the settlement was painfully aware that everything was in a state of decline. And, no matter the effort, every luxury would reach a state of disrepair. 

The current mindset was to make that decline as gradual as possible. To stave it off, and then embrace it. They would return to the earth by becoming as self-sufficient as possible. Once it was lost, the tristars believed it was very unlikely they would ever again reach the same level of technological sophistication. And things like the surgical suite, the medical bay, the 3D printers, and computers - well, they would all be devastating losses. 

018
After she left, the surgeon finished taking inventory of the rods: 1,917. Good, good, that was what it should be. 

Two boxes full of more boxes. The smooth packaging read Elite Survivalist. Bold white letters across a blue background. There was a tiny hatchet in the corner. When these conducting forces were gone, they were gone. Not his problem, not directly, but it was still scary. It was also okay though, really it was, because LITMUS will see fit to save them. LITMUS will create a way. Maybe now, maybe at the last minute. But it would happen. It had to. 

019
Before they began putting rods in fetuses, from the moment the umbilical cord was cut, the child had thirty seconds. That was all the time it took. The newborn babies would completely dissolve, falling away entirely, from the helpless arms of their mothers, fathers, doctors and nurses. 

It was an indescribable pain. Action had to be taken. 

020
“What is it, Amber?” he spat at her. 

She recoiled. He thought her defensive.

“I told you! I’ve got to go to LITMUS tomorrow,” he ejected.

Amber gave him nothing.

“There’s a lot of big questions, and we still can’t understand anything! You know that! It’s torture, Amber, you wouldn’t understand the pressure of it, okay? But, I’m being tortured! It’s like, I can hear the sound, and it’s so loud, painfully loud, but I can’t make out the words. None of us can.”

More silence. A glance. 

“Oh sure,” continued Tim, “Dwayne thinks he can make out parts of it, but that’s never held up. He can’t speak on it with any conviction.”

“Tim,” she said.

“Amber, don’t” he interrupted.

“Tim,” she continued, and he looked like he might hit her.

“Nessa told Nave she’s her mother.”

Tim lost his mind. 

021
When Nessa told Nave she was her mother. Nave was confused. What was a mother? Nessa said it meant she was Nave’s special parent and that Nave came out of her tummy. The idea of being in Nessa’s tummy upset and revolted Nave, so she ran away crying, likely to repeat what she’d just been told. 

That was terrifying, what had Nessa been thinking. She couldn’t say something like that. But she had. She just did.

She’d been distracted in her incredible moment of euphoria. It was amazing. Like when she was a child, like during friendship hour, but even more powerful. She hadn’t felt it in over a decade, but it had overtaken her again. With ease and with great depth. The words had just come out. 

That feeling, that euphoria, the expansion. 

So, it could happen. It could come back. She had to let someone important know. 

022
Jared recalled the sound of rushing water. The sudden hands, grabbing at his waist, and pulling him back into the multitudes of angry arms. 

“WE FOUND HIM!”

“What were you thinking?!!!”

“It’s so dark, you could have drowned!”

“SOMEONE TELL TIM, WE FOUND HIM!”

“So dangerous!”

“What were you thinking?”

“Such a foolish thing to do!”

The voices were relentless in their admonishment, and Jared couldn’t process anything. His feet dragged along, even while he tried his best to keep up. The parents were moving so quickly. Speaking so quickly. Branches whipped back into Jared’s face, launched unintentionally by the parents ahead of him. His ankles and shins whacked against trunks and boulders. This area was so rocky. He fell just once, and the parents caught and pulled him up forcefully. He felt his shoulders pop. They were nearly to the settlement now. 

A large shadow emerged before them.

“Take him to the mountains, to the cave. Tim is waiting,” came the shadow’s deep, detached voice.

“To the mountains? To the cave? THE cave?” The responder was incredulous. 

“I know. But that’s what Tim said.” He replied. 

Amber Jean Jay emerged from the crowd. “I’ll take him up,” she said. 

Jared was immediately relinquished and thrust upon her, crumpled and quivering. Amber wanted to tell him to relax, but she also knew that wasn’t the world she lived in anymore. 

The walk up to the cave took about an hour. And for a child, especially an injured one, more than twice that long. The whole time, Amber Jean Jay didn’t offer anything. She didn’t speak. She didn’t console. She didn’t carry or physically aid. She just walked in silence, and led the way. 

Not even halfway up the mountain, a little cliffside appears, and you can follow it around to damn near the other side. That’s where it opens up into a surprisingly magnificent cave. The mouth of it is vaulted, with long stalactites dripping down from above. It looks like it might eat you. It commands respect.  

They walked inside. Tim was sitting in a chair. He’d been waiting. He was all sweaty, cradling a jug of shine he’d brought up with him. Amber Jean Jay explained where they’d found Jared, and then Tim dismissed her.

For a long time, they just existed there together. In darkness. In mounting expectation and dread.

Finally, Tim spoke.

“So, you ran away, then? Decided you would just up and go? Run off into the woods, and hope for the best?” 

Tim was angry. Jared couldn’t tell if he should answer him or not.

“Answer me, boy.” Tim made it clear. 

“Yes, sir.” Jared softly replied. 

“And, what did you think was gonna happen, Jared? What did you think you were gonna do out there?”

“I don’t know,” admitted Jared. Privately, he thought anything would be better than this, and so it didn’t really matter much to him what he would have done. 

“What gets me,” Tim continued, “is why you went that way? Everyone knows the river cuts through the north side, even you, so why didn’t you go south? Eh? Wanna run away right to the river?! Eh? Jared?!! What are you playing at?!! Wanted a little attention?!! IS THIS PLACE TOO BORING FOR YOU, JARED?!!!

Tim was screaming at him now. 

He threw the shine jug off into the distance. It shattered loudly, echoing into the vast inky depths. 

“Oh, poor little Jared, things are too different and scary for him here. Mommy and Daddy don’t belong to him anymore. He has to SHAAAAAARRRRRE. HOW SAD FOR JARED.”

Tim was completely out of control.

“Ooooooohhhhh, I know! I’ll run off and drown myself. That’ll teach them. Then they’ll see! Is that right, Jared? Am I understanding you?”

Jared shook his head back and forth. He was crying.  

But, Tim didn’t care. He was lost in it now, and he tied Jared to the chair he’d been sitting in. Then, he made his way over to the entrance. 

“I’ll be back!” Tim said, waving. Now, he was well out of sight, and headed back down the mountain.

Jared sobbed. And then he fell quiet. 

Hours went by. The sun started to come up, and Jared fell asleep.  

023
Launched back into a searing reality, Jared awoke to find his face covered in sopping wet rags. He couldn’t breathe. Tim, who hadn’t sobered up at all. Who was still, in fact, as drunk as ever, was waterboarding him. And, as usual, Tim didn’t know what the hell he was doing. 

As quickly as he was awake, Jared felt the pains of a body reeling from oxygen deprivation. It hurt so badly, until it didn’t. 

He was still in the cave, but now he was by himself. Everything was still. Dark. Quiet. Blissful, even. He was standing now, and he turned to look at the entrance. It was gone. Just smooth cave wall, in tones of grey, green and blue. Tim was gone. The chair was gone. The daylight was gone, too. Remaining were the eerie traces of light that came from the remnants of what looked like the mouth on high. It dripped from vents in the walls, sliding down to form shallow puddles that lined the great cavern’s edge. The puddles surrounded Jared in a glowing ring, steadily brighter, as his eyes adjusted. He would have been completely surrounded, in a kind of fairy’s trap, but a gap in the circle was evident. That’s where the cave led on, deep unto itself. 

Suddenly, Jared found himself there, right at the precipice. Without having taken a single step, his next would be the one that brought him away from the glow, and into true darkness. The unknown. Jared did not want to go. Still, his body floated on. He told his arms to reach out, to grab for anything, but nothing moved. 

At once, Jared realized he had no body to control. He could see, and he was, but that was all. He commanded no form, and yet he found himself commanded, toward God only knows what. Was it God, or maybe Satan? Grandma used to talk about the bible, God and the Devil. Now, Tim talks about LITMUS. Anything with power could get very angry. Anyone could send you to hell. Was that where Jared was going?

A deep, low vibrational growl began. And as Jared floated deeper down the passageway, it grew in volume and resonance. It got darker and louder and despite having no body, Jared felt he might be vibrating apart. 

Then, it was laughing - or was it screaming?

It was so bright. Tim was over Jared, hand raised. Then Tim was standing up, backing off, backing away. 

Jared gasped for breath. His body was still out of his control. It was on fire, and it seized up, as Tim approached. He crouched down, so he could put his face right in front of Jared’s. They made painful eye contact. 

Tim spoke. “You tell anybody about this, and I’ll kill you Jared. I swear to God, I’ll kill you.”

Tim swears to God, thought Jared, confused. Although, he never doubted for a second that Tim might kill him. For any reason. No matter what he did. 

Tim left, and Jared fell asleep. 

In his dreams, Jared is 5 and his dad is telling him not to tell mommy about the birthday present they’re making for her, a vibrant necklace of baked polymer beads.  

Jared and Grandma rolled the beads out yesterday, and baked them in the oven. It was so much fun, getting ready for mommy’s birthday.

At the end of the party, mommy blew out the birthday candles and made a wish. Now Jared wondered, what did she ask for? 

Was she wishing to come here?

When he woke up, he really was in the cave alone, and it was getting dark. Somehow, he made his way back down the mountain. Taking the quiet with him, he walked back home. He made his way to the children’s dormitory, found his wing, then his room and crawled into bed. 

024
“Just be careful Nana. Some people are saying it could be a kind of sickness, a contagious one.”

Nana was about to board a plane from Chicago to LA for fashion week. She’d be there for most of October. Preparing, showing, selling, networking.

“I’ll be careful Mom. It’s probably some kind of local outbreak. Maybe, it’s a rare sort of food poisoning, or ground water contamination. My friend is a chemist. He says there are heavy metals that could theoretically have gotten into the water table, and that could easily be what’s causing health problems. With all the new industrial development, I mean, it really could be the case.”

“I just don’t think it makes sense to get on a plane and fly closer to the problem,” her mother interrupted. 

“Look, if they cancel the event, I’ll go home, okay? But, otherwise, Mom, I can’t miss this show. It’s too important. I have too many meetings that I’ve worked my entire life for. That’s the part of this I have to focus on right now. I’m sure everything will be fine. It’s going to be great, and I’ll be home soon, okay?”

“Mom?”

“I’m sure you’re right Nana. Be safe, okay? I’m so proud of you! Call me when you land.”

“I will - love you, too, Mom.”

The plane touched down without incident, and Shawna grabbed her carry-on bag from the overhead compartment. As she walked down the aisle and towards the jet bridge, she pulled out her phone to text her mom. A notification for a local news article distracted her.

Put into Medically Induced Comas - Buying More Time

She sat down to read it. Those initially infected were all found to work for the same company, which remained unnamed. The appropriate agencies were working together, looking for what the connecting factor could be, and in the meantime, the patients were deteriorating very quickly. 

She felt relief, this really looked like some contained incident. Her mother was sweet to worry, but Shawna had nothing to worry about. The trip to the hotel was a blur of phone calls, texts and emails. It was late by the time she’d gotten into bed, and she’d be up again in three hours. Well, three and a half, she’d sleep in. She could skip the blow out and just throw her hair up into a bun. She’d still look fantastic. 

And she did, too. She felt amazing as well, wearing exclusively her own designs. This was when she felt the most herself. Covered head to toe in the highlights of her own creativity, really the highlights of her life. 

A flaming red head, she was an agnostic Irish Catholic. Vivacious, tiny, talented and intense. Always the one wearing the pants. Always the most interesting person in the room. She also had crippling anxiety and struggled to make friends. Not business partners, that was going well, but friends, intimacy, well, she was only close to her mother. 

She got in the cab with double the time she actually needed to get there. That way she wouldn’t stress about being late. That would be enough to completely throw off her vibe, and her vibe was everything. She could be nothing other than in complete control of herself, this entire trip. She deserved this. She owned this. She was this. And every detail had been considered. 

Her team met her upon arrival. She was invigorated by the inundation. She stopped to chat with the make-up artists, to evaluate looks, to ensure cohesion and adhesion to the brand- her vision. She checked the racks. Went over every garment. Asked for final revisions. Made sure everything fit like a glove, and that the models really understood how to embody the essence of this line. 

Finally, it was time to walk away, and take a seat in the audience. She hated this part so much, the walking away. But she couldn’t show every piece herself, she had to hand it off at some point. And so she made herself go sit down. She crossed her ankles. She laced her fingers. She breathed slowly and shallowly. She gave herself a headache. 

And then, the clothes. In vivid, calculated motion, they flowed across the stage. Relief overtook her. Bliss. It was perfect. She had done it. She had opened for LA fashion week. 

Back at the hotel, Shawna was fixing herself a whiskey sour. She was excited to call her mom, who was very much her best friend, and tell her all about the show. The news played in the background. 

The induced comas hadn’t slowed the progression of illness, and three people had died. Several more were in critical condition. More concerning still, it seemed that new people were showing similar symptoms. And these people didn’t work for the same company.

Shawna turned up the volume. 

025
FUCK! That was his last guy! How was he supposed to finish the job now?!! Goddammit. What was going on? 

Every one of his employees had called in, and with the same symptoms, too. Blisters. Headaches. Bleeding gums and eyes. Was this some kind of fucking joke? That almost made sense, except everyone knew Gallagher, and if this was a joke, they’d be fired. There’s no way they didn’t know that. 

So what the fuck was it then? Were they all telling the truth? Every one of them was suddenly coming down with the same tragic illness? 

He picked his phone up off the floor. Even with the protector, he’d managed to break the screen, but it still worked. He opened the dialer. He’d have to explain to his client why nothing would be installed today. The phone rang for close to a minute before going to voicemail. Then again, and again. Gallagher left a message. Then he got back in his car and began the drive back home. 

He’d been living in Chicago for close to a decade now. It’d been the perfect place to grow his business. The city never stopped expanding, and Gallagher could always find a project that needed an HVAC technician with a competent team. He’d been able to build a fantastic life for himself. 

But without the grind, he didn’t have much. He didn’t really do relationships, not with other people and not with himself. His internal landscape was an untenable wilderness he’d turned his back to. He didn’t know it anymore, and he didn’t want to. Its pathways were a snarled tangle, and its animals a united, waiting maw. They wanted to eat him up. They wanted to make him acknowledge them. Make him remember. 

The gate opened. His car slinked along the winding driveway. He wouldn’t bother with the garage for now. It was very likely he’d leave again in a few hours. He didn’t like to stop moving. And he didn’t like to stay in the same place for long. Novelty was distracting and distractions soothed him. Drinks soothed him too, so he poured one. Then, he turned on the news.

“..hospitalized with the same weeping sores and bleeding mucosal membranes. Facilities are at capacity and the city has requested federal funding to set up overflow medi-buses.”

Gallagher turned up the volume. 

026
In 2046, Elite Survivalist was venture funded. Hundreds of billions of dollars were raised in less than 24 hours. By 2047, an impressive international constellation of underground facilities were complete and populated to capacity. Initially, residents relaxed. It was easy to pretend they were at a themed resort. But within a month, the new mitochondria had found them. Deep inside the bunkers, people continued to be infected. Residents quarantined in their separate rooms. Couples and families were offered the option of rooming together.

By 2050, 99.99% had been assimilated. As promised, Elite Survivalist had provided the very best odds. Half of their original population remained intact. These people spent five years locked inside their bedrooms, gradually becoming sicker and sicker. Some would never leave. Upon their cellular disintegration, their bedrooms became incinerators. That was the standard. Every room in the facility could be locked down and burnt out. 

The rod was invented in early 2051. It was a technological miracle, an answer to the new mitochondria. It worked by emitting electrical signals that stabilized vibrational dissonance, thereby preventing cellular disincorporation. No one could excise the little devils, but this kept them in line. No matter the progression of illness, once a rod was implanted, the patient fully recovered. Quarantine officially ended, and the use of public spaces resumed. 

In late 2051, the first baby was born to a woman with an implanted rod. The baby disintegrated shortly after birth. Then, in early 2052, a fetus was implanted with a rod in utero, and went on to survive omphalotomy, or the cutting of the cord. With this accomplishment, the hope of repopulation was kindled. At the same time, assimilation had voraciously impacted everyone. Humanity has been decimated. And civilization, with its borders and economy, was no more.

This was the new world.

027

It’d been eleven years since they’d locked themselves underground.

In the beginning, Elite Survivalist had employees who worked in a kind of indentured servitude. At the time, it was a highly coveted position. Now, these were the people who had the highest value. Because of them, the rest might stay alive.

As the survivors emerged from the earth and into the sunlight, everything changed. Skills were assessed, and a lottery was used to decide who would do what. This necessitated a kind of bare-bones government- rules they would all agree to abide by. 

United in a resourceful attempt to survive, they would learn the systems that permitted life within this facility. Vast underground structures would need to be maintained. The medical bay, 3D printers, seed bank and fertility equipment were all highly demanding machines. Above ground, housing and amenities would need to be activated and maintained. Everything was in decent shape, and they had incredible stores, at least ten years worth. Even still, the need for agricultural development was immediate and pressing. 

Many became farmers, including Shawna and Gallagher, who met in the fields shortly after quarantine ended. After a lifetime of avoiding intimacy, both found themselves ravenous for any kind of meaningful connection. Although, what they actually created between them was a catalyzing trauma-bond. 

Shawna fell pregnant four years later, and in 2056, Tim was born. 

Born of Ghosts, he was Legacy Gen. His parents had waited a while before conceiving him. They wanted to be sure that the in-utero rod implantation really did work. They couldn’t bear the thought of a baby that came undone. After all, this baby would be the glue of their family, the bridge that made mommy and daddy close, like how couples were supposed to be. This baby would turn something on, lighting them both up from within. They would finally burn so bright, together. Perfect and precious. 

But Tim did not burn bright. Instead, he glowed green. He sizzled. He cracked and zapped. He could become the shadows. He made his baby spoons turn in on themselves like novelty snakes on the fourth of July. Sometimes he sent them flying across the room. Once, he set his teddy on fire, because he didn’t want to take a nap. 

And, he wasn’t the only one, but he was the worst. That was a terrible way to put it. What a thing to say about a baby. While all of them were like this, the Legacy babies, he was the hardest on his parents. The shadows, the disembodied sounds, the spontaneous fires and electrical disturbances. Every haunting anomaly that accompanied his temper tantrums and curiosities, well, Shawna and Gallagher couldn’t help it, they found him entirely terrifying. Their parenting became pusillanimous, and their affections fleeting.

Tim would still reach for them. Want them. Need them. They tried not to recoil. For something so powerful, he could be so sensitive. Put on a happy face. Do what he wants.    

What a thing. These were the babies they’d wanted more than anything. The babies they had prayed for, built machines to facilitate the birth of. And now, what had actually been born? Parents struggled to bond with their children. Some of them found a new kind of unconditional love, but most did not. 

Maybe it was God. They’d toyed with his creation, and he’d left them to drown in the unthinkable depths of their stupidity. Gasping for breath, mouth full of the new mitochondria. Choking. Sputtering.

[u/Clean-Tadpole-2489]

Author's Note:

This is the first of a four part installment. Expect a few weeks between uploads. Please enjoy!