Bee’s… who would've thought? Well, those scientists did. A population out of control. Not enough food to feed them and Bee’s the answer. Except they weren’t the answer those scientists couldn’t have got it more wrong if they had tried. The contraceptive drug they came up with wiped out almost half the populations of the world.
Why was I thinking this? Mainly because my demise was imminent, and that alone was causing my mind to come up with a solution. An escape plan, my survival instinct kicking into action. How ironic as I was the solution. My attention drifted back to the winter scene beyond the window. Anything to distract myself from my immediate future.
Watching the snow, I can see my reflection in the glass. Pale hair teasing blue eyes too big for my face. They follow the drifting flake as it touches the moisture and dissolves. As death will dissolve me in a hand full of years. Nothing to mark my existence or passing. A shudder rattles my frame as I push away the melancholy thoughts. Unless…
‘Concentrate Adam,’ her stick raps against my easel and I startle.
‘Yes Madam Montreal,’ willing away the blush that climbs my face.
Glancing out of the window, my fingers guide the pencil across the paper. Scrunching my face in concentration. I block out the sounds of the boys playing in the snow as I try to capture the energy and enthusiasm of their robust game.
‘Ah Adam, yes, firmer strokes with the pencil,’ My art teacher guides my hand over the paper. ‘Yes, much better,’ she praises as she moves away, her familiar scent distracting me. ‘I will expect you in my class tomorrow with this finished,’ she smiles at me before leaving by a side door. Her shoes echoing on the wooden floor. I concentrate in silence. Just the sound of my pencil on the paper.
‘Adam, where are you?’ A gust of freezing air follows the voice as Mathew bursts into the room. He shuffles over to the fire and sits as close as he can without setting himself on fire. For a moment I picture this in my head ending with him running about in a flame like coat setting the entire school burning. Blinking, I focus on him again.
‘Ah, you have finished your art lesson,’ Mathews features light up with mischief and I inwardly groan as I try to work out what it is he is plotting.
‘Why? What’s going on?’ His damp, dishevelled state brings a smile to my face. With Auburn hair plastered to his forehead and his face pinker than normal. This suggests that he was involved in the snowball fight, possibly the instigator. He watches me drawing for a bit before answering.
‘Oh, they’re organising a snowball fight between the Mothers and the boys, if you’re interested.’ His gaze travels to my face as his mouth turns up in a smile, his green eyes shining.
‘Oh, I see. Do you mind if I pass?’ Sucking my pencil, I study my drawing. ‘I have to finish this for tomorrow.’
He peers over my shoulder. ‘You know you are very good’ he leans back. ‘You make me look so handsome,’ He turns his head striking a pose. With a laugh, I push him away from my drawing.
‘Get out,’ my voice teasing. He wanders over to the door, puts his hand on the handle, and turns to me.
‘Catch you later,’ pulling it closed behind him. My solitude is short-lived, however, as I soon hear the voice of my Mother. A resigned sigh passes my lips at the thought of this next interruption.
‘Adam, Adam, sample time,’ she says in a singsong voice. She opens the door and steps inside, smiling at me, waggling a sample pot in her fingers. Her impossibly high heels clacking on the wooden floor, long blonde hair loose down her back.
‘Why weren’t you outside?’ She asks, sitting on the sofa to my side. Well, sitting isn’t quite right, perching would be more accurate. She crosses her long slender legs.
Taking in her form-fitting dress and low neckline that doesn’t leave much to the imagination, I shrug, meeting her gaze. ‘ had an art lesson.’
‘Yes, of course you did. It’s very warm in here, are you ill?’ She reaches out and strokes my face with her fingers, before ruffling my hair. She does this on purpose, as she knows I hate her messing with my hair.
‘No, I’m fine,’ a frown forming with annoyance as I growl at her and push her hand away. Her lips twitch as she suppresses a smile.
‘Good, right, well, sample time? Are you ready or do you want some help?’ She runs her hand up my inner thigh, stroking and caressing.
‘No, I don’t need any help.’ Her hand rests on my crotch, closing my eyes, relaxing my body. ‘Do we have to do this can’t we just skip it today? I’m not feeling too into it.’ Casting my eyes upward, I wait for her reaction.
‘You weren’t feeling very into it last time either, or were you unwell? It’s difficult to keep track. Come on, what’s gotten into you?’
‘It’s just, what’s the rush? If there are only so many samples that can be taken, why the big hurry to get them all out of the way now? Why can’t we… you know, space them out a bit, take it easy?’
‘Adam, not collecting your sample will not stop you from being retired at twenty. That’s just the way it works, honey. All that will happen is that I will get into trouble for not meeting my quota. I can’t keep making excuses for you.’ Worry in her voice as her eyes sweep over my body.
‘But I don’t want to be retired at twenty. I want to have a nice, long, happy life. And what with the downturn, hardly anyone can afford to buy an Adam nowadays. What if nobody wants me and I don’t sell?’ I complained. Not that I want that either. I want to be my own person, not some woman’s property. Somewhere in the world, there must be a place for me. A place where I can live in peace. I want to fall hopelessly in love. Like the characters in the books, I enjoy reading. I want to try strange and exotic food, step into the ocean and feel sand between my toes as waves crash against the shore. A defeated sigh escapes my lips as my Mother undoes my chinos. I lift my hips as she pushes them down her fingers caress my skin. My eyes close in defeat.
I am delusional that world has gone along with the men that populated it. Now almost everything including the ocean is toxic to someone like me. As it was toxic to those males after the contraceptive catastrophe. According to my guardians all I would find is a slow, painful death after I had been raped and tortured by the remaining contaminated population.
‘Oh, come on, Adam, there are still plenty of women out there with more money than sense. And who wouldn’t want to buy a Lil’ cutey like you, huh… coochie coo.’ She jokes, pulling at my cheek.
‘Ah stop.’ I laugh, pushing her hand away, mock scowling.
‘Now come on, let’s stop messing around and let me get this sample so we can both get on with our day,’ she says, suddenly all business again.
‘Alright fine,’ I agree my tone petulant but I don’t care as I settle back and prepare myself.
So here I am, lying on the couch, while a stunningly attractive woman strokes and coaxes me to perform, so she can collect my sample.
‘Oh, you are a good boy,’ she coos, as I pick up my book to distract myself from what she’s doing.
‘Well done, sweetheart.’ She bends and kisses my forehead, as I try my level best to focus on my book.
In my mind, this was my last chance at convincing The Genetic Corporation not to retire me. As far as I could see, this was the tipping point. There is no other option for me now than to leave. If I stay, I will spend the next three years being milked until I reach twenty, then I will either be euthanised or sold to become some woman’s plaything. Of course, they will sterilise me first. When she tires of me, she will be in her right to have me put to sleep, euthanised, legally killed. They want young, fresh and easy to control. So to avoid that I am willing to take my chances against the toxin and escape. But what if they are lying to keep us from rebelling and escaping?
My belly tightens with the pleasure that washes over me; the sample collected. Heat steals up my cheeks as disgust fills me. Laying back as she cleans me up. Adjusting my clothing, she packs the jars away ready to be processed and sent to the laboratory.
‘Adam sweetheart, it will be alright,’ my eyes snap open.
‘How can it be?’ My abrupt reply. She shrinks back, her hand still on my thigh. ‘If I am lucky, depending on how you view these things, I will be genetically matched. The girl will be given papers for me, and I will become her property and expected to breed with her,’ my voice louder than normal.
‘Adam…’ I hold my finger up to stop her interruption I know what she will say. Frankly, I don’t want to hear it.
‘Once she has a baby,’ I continue. ‘She doesn’t have to keep me. She can hand me back to be euthanised or she can sell me. So yeah, what can I say? I don’t want any of that. Who would!’ I close my eyes again and I wait for her answer. With a sigh, I relax my body. Her hand is rubbing my thigh to comfort me. It is against regulations for her to show any more affection.
‘Adam, please, you can’t dwell on that. You must live the life you have.’ Sitting up, I brush her hand off my leg and do my trousers up.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
‘I can't. You know I am not like the other Adams. They didn’t tamper with my DNA and dumb me down. Make me docile,’ lurching to my feet, I move to the window and watch the boys playing in the snow. Mathew waves and I wave back. I know when she is behind me.
‘Adam, I know the mistakes they made with you. How you miss Aaron since he died? They should never have let either of you develop naturally. Gen—Corp won’t euthanise you just because you are different.’ Her hand is on my waist as she breaks the rules and hugs me. I turn to her and hang my head so she can’t see my expression.
‘Sorry, you are right. I should forget about my future and live in the now.’ Some dark part of me wants to give in let them euthanise me join Aaron. The other part of me wants to live. Leave this place and see the world. Find my own girl to fall in love like in the old days. The only way to achieve that is to escape and next week they move the Matched boys out. This is done every six months and I am going to use that to hide my escape.
‘Good boy,’ she kisses my cheek, another rule broken. ‘I will see you at dinner,’ she picks up the medical case.
‘Yes,’ turning I manage a smile. Waiting as she closes the door, leaving me to my thoughts.
Today I am implementing the first part of my plan. Stealing a key card to get out of the house unnoticed. Once I have observed the guard change. There is a hole in the fence I can use to slip away. Well, that’s my plan. From there, I will make my way to the town and the station. By the time they notice I am missing, I will be long gone.
I am going to head to Ireland. I read it isn’t like here. Because it is an island, it shut its borders. The large catholic population, they didn’t implement the new contraceptive for the men. Although they lost their men eventually, like everywhere else, it was slower, and they didn’t have the civil unrest that followed the disaster. Which I hope means it is still like the old world.
Some articles I read indicated they had a small population of men, proper men, not like me. That, though, isn’t what interests me. Ireland isn’t controlled by Gen-Corp. So, in theory, I could be free there. Of course, I am still assuming just being outside won't in fact kill me.
I give it a couple of minutes, then spring to my feet, hastening towards the door and glance into the hallway. As I suspected, it is deserted with everyone distracted by the snowball fight. I make my way down the hallway and up a flight of service stairs at the end of the first-floor landing.
Where the ground floor comprises leisure and dining space, they split this floor between administrative offices and the Mothers’ private quarters. I am not supposed to be up here and will have to answer some pretty troublesome questions if I am caught.
I sneak along the corridor, occasionally peering into the deserted offices or listening for the sound of someone coming. Fortunately, no one is around. I creep along until I find one door to the Mothers’ rooms lodged open by some dirty clothes. Even though they are always telling us to be clean and tidy, some of them can be quite messy.
I enter the room like a ninja and start carefully rummaging through the pockets of the discarded clothes, searching for a key card that will allow me to get through one of the external doors into the gardens.
Having no luck amongst the clothes, I turn my attention to the bedside tables, finally finding one under a stack of papers next to the Mother’s bed. The doors in and out of the home close and lock automatically and I would never escape unless I had one of these key-cards to open them again.
Successful, I exit the room, careful to leave it in a similar state to the way I found it. I hurry along the landing and down the stairs to the ground floor, the key-card safely stuffed in my pocket, and back towards the drawing room where I had been reading.
I re-entered the room to find my Mother there waiting for me. ‘Sweetheart, where have you been? I thought you were reading your book?’ A look of curiosity came upon her face, my book in her hand.
‘Adam, why didn’t you join in with the other boys today?’
She looks at me, waiting. A sigh escapes my lips. ‘I don’t know. I wanted to but… I just I had a lot on my mind I guess,’ giving a shrug again, this time trying not to give anything away under her scrutiny. ‘I had my art lesson,’ I shrug.
‘That was only an hour you could have joined in after,’ she looks at me with a puzzled expression and I realise she doesn’t understand me at all. With a frown I drop my gaze.
‘Oh, Adam, you worry too much. You are a good boy and always have been. You need to forget all this nonsense about retiring and just enjoy the time you have.’ She pulls me to her and links her arm with mine. Hugging me into her side as we walk along the corridor. What is it with her and hugging? I glance at her, she can never understand how frightened and trapped I feel. The numb feeling that has replaced the sadness at this realisation settles around me, within me.
‘Why make me like this? Why give me this intelligence? What is it for? Why didn’t they make me docile like the other boys, though? There must be a reason?’ it all blurts out the frustration of my situation and her. She won't ever understand.
‘Enough Adam, please sweetheart, trust me. I will find you a good match and you will have an enjoyable life, alright.’ I glare at her before walking away. ‘Adam, honey, the world isn’t a safe place for you. Just stop with all the questions, I have it organised,’ she searches my face, waiting for my compliance. That can’t be the reason or am I deluding myself. Only one way to find out, leave and see for myself.
A cacophony of noise assaults my ears as I enter the dining room. I stop to take in the ornate plaster and freezes that decorate the walls. The stately home that we live in, with its grand elegant decorations taken from a bygone age, never fails to amaze me. It’s such a calm, refined contrast to the chaos and drama of its residents, as the boys boisterously eat their dinner. Mother kisses me on the cheek before walking across the polished wooden floor to the table that all the Mothers sit at.
The delicious scent of roast chicken dinner wafts around me, causing my stomach to growl. Dodging the kitchen and dining staff bustling around the room clearing plates and already bringing out dessert, I make my way past the rows of tables, each packed with boys of varying ages chattering and eating their dinner. Finding my place, pleased to see my dinner already on the table. Taking my seat, I listen to the conversation going on around me as they discuss the snowball fight; I smile at their boyish enthusiasm.
‘You’re very quiet,’ Mathew nudges me as I fork a roast potato. Popping it into my mouth as his intense green eyes watch my every move. I feel heat warm my cheeks at his scrutiny.
‘Adam, are you still worrying about me going?’ He asks as I eat my potato.
‘Yeah, I guess.’
‘I will be fine. Mother has a match for me,’ he beams at me. His statement should have been a surprise, but in all honesty, Mathew should be the poster boy for The Adam Program. Someone was really paying attention when they created him. He really is beautiful, and it isn’t just physical, he is just a nice person.
‘Really? Who?’ Swallowing my food, I turn to look at him. How can he be so accepting? Oh, yeah, he was made to be.
‘I don’t know but she is high ranked,’ an enormous grin on his face. ‘So, I will be fine little dude.’ chuckling he ruffles my hair.
‘Get off.’ I push his arm away and straighten my hair, glaring at him as he laughs.
‘You are so grumpy today.’
‘Yeah, sorry, tired I guess,’ I answer. Finishing my dinner, I gaze at my pudding, chocolate sponge and custard; I don’t fancy it and push it away. I don’t like this stodgy food. My mother has a device that I like to watch old cooking shows on. Fantasies of strolling around a market, choosing the ingredients before spending the day creating a delicious meal. Inviting friends around to share it. Like people used too before the disaster and civil unrest. Before the world changed and Gen-Corp took over. Before all the men died, not like me, but proper men. Like in the cooking shows I enjoy and the books I read.
‘Oh, you gonna eat that?’ Mathew asks eyeing my pudding pulling me from my musings.
‘No, do you want it?’ I don’t know why I am asking as I know the answer.
‘Yes, please.’ He pulls the bowl to him and demolishes it. ‘Film night tomorrow, are you going?’ he asks, pushing the now empty bowl away.
‘Oh, yes,’ I reply with a grin. He gets up as his Mother calls him.
‘I will come and get you and we can sit together?’ He smiled as he left with his Mother, one more milking before bed. I sigh and push my chair out, climbing to my feet as my own Mother calls me. Knocking into someone.
‘Sorry,’ my apology automatic as cutlery clatters to the floor. Immediately I drop to pick it up.
‘Please, stop,’ a timid voice has me looking up into a pair of pale blue eyes. She reaches out and takes the cutlery from my hand as I rise.
‘Sorry,’ my smile instant. As a shout comes from across the room. The girl stiffens.
‘Audrey,’ a plump stern woman strides toward us. ‘I must apologise sir she is new,’ she grabs the girl's arm and yanks her back. A flash of pain briefly flares on Audrey’s face.
‘That’s alright it was all my fault I wasn’t watching where I was going,’ my explanation comes as my Mother arrives a frown on her face.
‘Come Adam,’ leading me away I glance back and see the girl being chastised.
****
Climbing out of bed, I move to the window, pushing back the curtain, peering outside. The snow has stopped. It is early, just gone five. I have a good couple of hours before breakfast and the first milking. Getting dressed as quickly as I can I do up my chinos and slipping a warm navy sweater over my head. Sitting on my bed, I wriggle on some thick socks and grab my boots, not putting them on. Moving over to the door of my room, carefully pulling it open, I check the hall. It is deserted; obviously, no other idiot would be up. My feet make no noise on the plush brown carpet as I creep past the other boys’ rooms, taking the stairs two at a time. I finally reach the door to the garden and drop my boots to the floor. Pushing my feet inside and doing up the laces. I glance down the hall toward the stairs, checking no one has heard me. No, Mother about to call me back. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out the stolen key card and hold it against the sensor next to the door. After a moment of hesitation, the sensor flashes green, and the door clicks. I reach out my hand, pushing the handle and nudging the door open.
Standing in the doorway inhaling the crisp, fresh air as it fills my lungs. The cold tingles on my skin, the hushed whispering noise that snow seems to make telling the secrets of the things it has buried. I gaze around. No one is about. I know armed guards patrol the perimeter fence, and I’ll have to be careful to avoid them if I don’t want to get caught.
Taking my first step into the snow, marvelling at the delicious sound it makes as it crunches under my boot. I make my way around the house towards the small wood just on the south side of the fence. Checking I am not being watched, I stay concealed as I watch the guards. Counting how many there are and then I time how long it takes for them to do a perimeter. I need to know this if I am going to get out.
‘Adam, what the hell are you doing out here?’ Mathew's voice makes me twist. I hadn’t heard him as I had been concentrating on the guards.
‘No… nothing,’ my voice stutters annoyingly, ‘I am just enjoying the quiet you know.’
‘Oh Adam, are you thinking about Aaron? I know it is coming up to the anniversary.’ he moves over to me and puts his arm around me.
‘Oh yeah, really miss him, you know, he loved snow,’ the lie just seems to glide off my tongue and a bit of me feels bad. I do think about Aaron and miss him enormously, but in this instant, I am not thinking about him.
‘How did you get out here?’ Looking him over, I notice he isn’t properly dressed for this weather. He has his indoor shoes on, not boots like me and he has a hoody on, rather than a coat.
‘I um, followed you but lost you when a guard came,’ I am not entirely sure that was the truth.
‘Come on, it's cold out here,’ I take his hand and drag him back inside.’
‘Where did you get that key card from?’ He asks, as I knew he would. Eventually, despite his bumbling attitude, Mathew seems to watch everything.
‘Mother gave it to me,’ I am getting good at this, I congratulate myself, as I lie again. I am going to have to be careful. He will watch me if I know Mathew. I have a quick debate about telling him my plan and then change my mind. He will talk me out of it. I know he would.