elimination

I race ahead of 12, a rare grin stretching across my face as I fly through the woods. I can still remember seeing black and white pictures of forests in the science textbook on my tablet about four years ago; I think they were from the 1900s. They were beautiful. There was no order, just things growing. There was even more than one type of tree and millions of other plants, all scattered haphazardly. Now all the trees are green with needles and grow at exactly half a square meter apart. I pause for a moment and find that I can scarcely hear 12′s footsteps behind me. I slow to a jog until she catches up.

She is flanked by an entourage; 14 and Switch run close to her right side while Tight Rope lags slightly behind to the left. My smile melts into a line as I see their knit eyebrows. Silently, I fall into line between 12 and 14 and begin to listen. “It doesn’t make sense anymore, their objective is unidentifiable.” Switch spits his words with such anger I am surprised that they don’t burn holes in the snow when they land. I rack my brain to identify what he is referring to. My first thought is that they are talking about Past Events, yet today was quite nap worthy—something about European colonization. The only notable thing I can remember is how the explorer Henry Morton Stanley still managed to shave every morning even though he was starving to death in the jungle. I still can’t believe that hundreds of years ago people used to have hair other than on their heads like animals. I wonder if they were warmer. As I zone out I accidentally bump into 14 who picks me up by the scruff of my jacket to keep me from sliding into a tree.

Naturally, his focus doesn’t waver from the comment 12 is making to Switch. “So they are basically trying to dehumanize all of humanity for us, and are quantifying willpower based on an ability to disregard all instinct to empathy.” I frown slightly, they must be talking about our new Practical Training textbook. 12 is about to continue, but 14 interjects. “Yet say you are given a choice between killing a person whom you admire deeply and saving 10 to whom you are indifferent, is it not weakness to save the subject of your affection?” 12 seems to consider this for a moment before responding carefully.

“At this point we have been given a vague array of complicated words to ponder. We really don’t know what their implementation in Practical Training will mean. We can expect activities pertaining to logic and justice as you suggest 14, as easily as we can expect that we will be asked to perform a wide array of cruel acts of dehumanization.” At this a deep pensiveness sets in and the only sound becomes our panting lungs and the howling of the wind. I frown to myself once again, what we have to do in Practical Training may not make any sense, and it may be quite unpleasant, but the alternative is death. With the way they are discussing it I almost question if they cease to fully appreciate this fact.

It’s 14 who speaks first. “I won’t do it.” 12 stops abruptly, in a most un-12-like way sending us all sprawling into her and crashing to the ground. I laugh for a second, but everyone has already regained their footing and my giggles are met by stony faces. I wipe the blood on my hands off onto the snowy ground as 12 begins to speak. “What did you say?” Her voice is careful, every word carries weight. 14 speaks up defiantly. “If they ask me to do something that compromises my integrity I won’t do it.”

At this I almost laugh out loud. Compromises his integrity! What integrity? The only thing that dictates the actions of 14, or anyone else in this world is survival. He can pretend all he wants, but if they ask him to sacrifice everyone else in the world for himself he will. It’s human nature. Integrity! Where did he even get that idea!? The thought worries me, but my reverie is short lived. Switch begins to speak carefully as though drawing the words out from somewhere far, far away. “I won’t do it either. I’m done. We have all suffered enough, and most of the Titles don’t even realize it. They don’t question, they don’t think, object, or hope. It’s time that someone taught them to. I want to do that regardless of personal sacrifice.”

I almost choke on my saliva. Tight Rope’s voice is next to spring up. “You’re absolutely right. I will refuse. It’s time someone did something.” I feel as though all the oxygen in my lungs has permanently departed as 12 finally begins to speak. “I have seen a great deal of pain and suffering. I have seen the weak eradicated while the strong survive, and the weak survive while the strong are eradicated. In my short life I have had little opportunity to create a distinct identity for myself, a grievance we all share. If I were to do such a thing as we are likely going to be asked, the little identity I have would likely be rendered meaningless. I will fight with you.”

I can’t tell if I have been hit over the head with an icy tree trunk, or if they actually all just said what they said. 12 would never lie to us. She would never foolishly walk into a situation without having carefully crunched the pros and cons in her algorithmic brain. I simply do not understand. Where did they even get these ideas? I look up from my thoughts to find that I am alone surrounded by whiteness. My feet sink into the soft new snow making the work of lifting my legs slow and tiresome. For the first time in a long time I can feel sweat churning under my coat. Steam escapes as I begin to unzip it. The run is endless and I can scarcely tell if I am going in the right direction. I have yet to hit any trees, but what if I’ve run too far, past where trees were planted and into the endless uninhabited tundra.

I shiver and zip up my jacket as a numb internal coldness sets in. Yet it’s not a temperature coldness. It’s a cold breath on the back of your neck sending shivers down your spine coldness, and it doesn’t go away. There is some presence behind me, I can’t tell if I am imagining it or not. Tension builds within me as my heart rate speeds up, I am bordering on panic, paralysis. Finally I can’t take it any longer, I turn around. Nothing. I laugh and let out a sigh of relief, before turning forward to find myself face to face with an ugly mirror.

The insanity in One’s eyes from the night of my hallucinations has returned, but for now she controls it. Her aura is a force like nothing else. I try to breathe but my lungs only draw in the enormous all encompassing power of her persona. She smiles. Her lips make me think of a picture I saw once, of an animal shaped like a rope with scaly skin— a snake. It was eating an egg, it’s ugly reptilian lips curled around it. Those are her lips, hopefully not mine as well. Finally she begins to speak. “Seven, Seven Seven, Title, Title, Seven.” I don’t respond and her lips draw back into a bigger smile to reveal teeth like a snarling animal. Do my teeth look like that?

She lets out a high pitched giggle and runs her right index finger along my cheek. The tip of her impossibly sharp nail sinks through the tired flesh, yet not enough to draw blood. I want nothing more than to remove it, but I keep my rage at bay, for fear of forming foamy lips. She sees it in my eyes and smiles deeper, taunting me, daring me to take that finger and snap it in half. Yet somehow I remain a statue as her sharp nail digs into my neck. “Tell me Seven, why are you special?” At this her coiled insides finally break free and she begins to laugh. My face is splattered with foam from her open mouth. Without instruction from my brain my feet begin to run.

I sprint through the endless blinding white until I slam into something soft and warm. I look up into an ocean of green. The troubled look on 14′s face melts away and forms a full-toothed grin as he recognizes me. Why is he running alone? I look down at my wrist port to find we are on the final mile. For a while we run in silence, before a nasty thought occurs to me, a most peculiar intuition. I swallow hard. “14, what have you been reading?” At this he stops mid-stride and skids on the ice before regaining his balance with a level of agility only he seems to posses. “Bump Nose told you?” He asks/declares in utter bafflement. At this I am taken aback. “Bump Nose?” I swallow an icy feeling. “Yeah.” he responds, his confession slow and reserved. “He has been giving me books from over 500 years ago, they are really interesting, eye opening actually.”

Passion builds in his voice as his trepidation evaporates. “Seven you would never believe, it was different, everything, people were more, more than the sum of their abilities, more than flesh and blood, there were concepts, beautiful concepts of...more, more than numbers.” He speaks with breathless excitement. “I read them and they changed everything, the world as I understand it, who I am, I...” At this I cut him off.

“Yes 14, they have changed you, you have gone from being level headed to having absurd likely life threatening delusions about the world. Integrity may have existed once, but it doesn’t any more. Adapt or die. There is no place for your ‘concepts,’ your ‘morals,’ in this world. If these concepts are as infallible as you claim than they would have survived and the world wouldn’t be the way it is.” At this I begin to run faster as to break off on my own, but he pulls me back. “There is something on your neck.” My heart stops.

Immobilized I let him gently tip back my head and read the letters inscribed in my flesh. “Mutation 348.” His words echo through my mind. I want to burry my face in the snow. 14′s eyes are etched with concern. Yet he doesn’t ask. We are left running in silence once again until at last I get ahold of myself. “Did you ask for the books?” “No.” 14 responds thoughtfully. He just kind of offered.” I nod slowly. “Only to you?” He frowns. “I don’t know.” I assumed the others as well—just not you because of the added stress of your...umm...condition.” “Did he say why?” I pry further. 14 only shrugs. “He was being nice, as usual. He didn’t say why.” “Ohh,” I respond softly as my bad ankle begins to itch on the inside and finally starts to cry.