Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Write in the SCIENCE FICTION genre (05/10/07)
TITLE: Factory 2507
By Virginia Gorg
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“What day is today?” I asked my husband.
“You’ve asked that a thousand times. We pick up our child today. Hurry, we must catch the hovercraft to Zasar.”
Perhaps I had been reading too much about the past, but traveling to another planet to pick up a child seemed surreal.
We boarded the hovercraft and soared into space. The trip was silent, because in this age we are not allowed to speak without permission.
Zasar loomed before us and we landed. In silence, the men went left and the women went right to Child Factory 2507. Inside, we rode a moving floor until our name was called.
I was ushered by a silent worker into a room. A while later, my husband arrived with a child.
“This is your mother,” he said. I reached for the child, but Brent stopped me.
“What are you doing?” he asked. “Touching is not allowed.”
We boarded the hovercraft in silence. Arriving home, Brent took Isaak to his room. “Dinner is in one hour, “ I heard him say.
Brent stood before me, angry. “What is your problem? You act as if you don’t know what is expected of us. It’s those stupid books you’re reading.”
“Does it seem normal to you that we cannot have our own babies? Why must we travel two million light years to receive a child?”
“That’s the way it’s always been.”
“Long ago, people married for love, had babies, and taught them about Jesus.”
“That’s enough. I’m taking away your fiction. Remember that your purpose is to silently clean the house, prepare meals, and watch the child.”
Something snapped and I jumped out of my chair and grabbed Brent’s arm. “This is wrong. We are not robots. We have free will.”
Brent yanked his arm away. “You are insane. It’s time I trade you in for one who will be silent.”
A voice stopped Brent before he could leave the room. Isaak said, “She is right.”
Brent looked at us, his face paling. “I’ll be in my room.”
Isaak touched my arm and I felt a sudden calmness. He spoke softly, “we are being trained to learn the old ways – the ways of Christ. The book you are reading is called the Bible, right?”
I nodded as he continued, “That book is true and was inspired by God, the Creator of everything. We are here to teach the truth.”
“Are there others like you?” I asked in a whisper.
“Thousands. We are assigned to homes where it is believed we can find compassion.”
“But you were made in a test tube, like all other children.”
Isaak made a musical sound. “What is that sound you made? I’ve never heard anything like it.”
“It is laughter, and a joyful sound. Actually, no one is from a test tube. We are real children, born, as you say, the old fashioned way.”
“You said there are others,” I gasped. “How will you find them?”
His answer shocked me. “You are one of us, raised for this purpose. Unfortunately, the home to which you were assigned had no compassion, in spite of the research.”
“I am like you? Is that why I feel out of place, almost as if I’m trying to remember something?”
“Exactly. You must remember the truth. Brent knew the truth once, but has chosen to ignore it. You were admonished so often that you repressed your memories. But those memories are still there, waiting to be revealed.”
I stared at him again. “So why are we told that children come from test tubes?”
“Once, mankind tried to create life, but could not. In their effort to eradicate God from memory, deceivers fabricated this myth about children. Some of us are able to infiltrate and teach the truth, but we are in grave danger. We eventually move back to the safety of Eden.”
“It’s almost as if I’m remembering some of this. Where is Zasar anyway?”
“Close your eyes, think, and ask for a revelation from God.”
A few minutes later, I said, “It’s not anywhere. I didn’t travel. Zasar is a hologram, but the children are real. This is really all a hoax.”
Isaak smiled. “See, the memories are coming back. The truth can never be silenced.”
“Will Brent remember and believe?” I asked.
A sound in the doorway made us both turn. Brent said, “I want to remember, too.”
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