Chapter One

Application 6534. Date: 24/09/2412.

“We’ve examined your application.” Pink, perfect lips speaking. “Your application has been
declined.” No emotion in the voice. Pink, perfect lips on a flawless face.
“But you don’t understand! We’re both Level 4’s. Our DNA has been cleared.” Couple
requesting permission to have their own child.
Pink, perfect lips pressed together momentarily.
“Sorry, L45353 and L45252, application denied. You can request a review if you wish. It will
take about two weeks. I’m not authorised to give out any further information.”
Pink, perfect lips pressed firmer together. Stonewall them with official procedure. After two
weeks if they asked about the review, tell them they were in a queue being processed. A
priority queue. That made them feel important. Gave them hope when there was none. Next
step, review rejected. One could apply again for a review of the review. Most gave up.
The couple rose slowly from their seat, digesting the decision they had been served.
Pink, perfect lips on the flawless face, “The Party for the people.”
The couple responded in unison, “The people for the Party.”
DNA engineered compliance. The Party would allocate two genetically manufactured
children for them. The couple accepted it without further questioning.
The woman with the flawless face sighed. She thought to herself: Why can’t I process
applications that are accepted and not rejected? Why can’t I process Level 5 applications?
Her mind pictured her daughter, Hunter. Her own daughter, not an allocated child. Her
application to have her own child accepted. Level 5 never rejected. Privilege. She was Level
5.
Level 5s were genetically screened and enhanced to virtual perfection, physically and
mentally. Her own daughter could choose and do a non-essential job. They were Level 5.
Privileged. It had to be that way. Order. Order brought fear of disorder. The Party kept order.
No Party, no order. Genetic order. That brings social order. All levels below Level 5 had
genetic control. Genetically controlled, artificial children. Hierarchy. Maintain control,
maintain privilege.
Why can’t Levels 1 to 4 have their applications accepted like Level 5? Why must they have
allocated children and not their own children? Her mind paused only momentarily to ponder
the question. Acceptance. That was her social obligation. Now what’s for dinner on Day
5? Hanging her previous questions in a closet deep in her mind and shutting the doors.

“L5D643!” a man’s voice yelled above the noise of a chopper in the background.
Dust everywhere from the chopper. Fine dust like powder. Hunter stared into the deep cave.
Her dilating pupils filling her deep blue eyes as they adjusted to the dark, eyes peering
intently through a scanner into the subterranean recesses. She scoured the walls and the floors
of the cave system, but came up negative. No artefacts, bones or fossils here.
“L5D643, we need to get going, don’t want to be out here after dark,” the security officer
cautioned. Solar storms were lethal.
“Okay, I’m finished here for today, I’ve explored this whole sector now,” Hunter replied. L5
stood for Level 5 and she was number D643. No one had names, only numbers. More
efficient that way. Precision. Depersonalise. Easier to control people with a number and not a
name. Names were therefore considered a waste of time. People only used names amongst
close friends and family.
She gathered her instruments and reached out for the helping hand of the security detail. They
walked at an even pace from the mouth of the caves over several sand dunes to the awaiting
chopper. Clambering aboard, Hunter rested her back against the soft, cushioned seat in the
aircraft. Doors slid shut and they ascended rapidly. She gazed through the windows her view
expanding over the desert with every minute of increasing altitude.
“Drink?” she was asked.
“Yes, thanks, it's so hot and dry out there.”
“Don’t know why you come out here,” the uniform asked her.
“I’m the archaeologist,” she stated, feeling a bit guilty. Non-essential job.
“Level 5 of course” came the response.
“Yes.”
“Married?”
A bit cheeky coming from a Level 1, Hunter thought. “Yes, I am, to a Level 1.”
Shocked silence. The security officer leaned forward; face hidden by the reflective visor of
his helmet.
“I thought Level 5s were only supposed to marry Level 5s,” he whispered cautiously.
A smile spread across her flawless face.
“He must be special,” he blurted out less reservedly, as if there was something in common
between them.
She mused to herself. Why is he special she pondered momentarily? Level 1 to 5 were all
physically perfect. Genetically enhanced, imperfection filtered out. What differentiated the
Levels was IQ. Intelligence withheld; intelligence granted. Someone was still needed to do
the non-tech jobs. So, the Party had Levels 1s. Her smile broadened a little. I wonder if he
will get this. Understand my explanation for not following conventions.
“Love defies convention. Love is like electricity. It connects people with irrational,
emotional currents. He lights me up and I make him light up,” she whispered. She let out a
little chuckle, filled with warm feelings toward her object of love.
“What’s his number? Is he in security detail, I might know him?”
Perhaps these questions produced answers a little less challenging. “L13328 and Carbine’s
his name. Geo-thermal electrical team. He works underground crew, sometimes day,
sometimes night.”
“Oh, keeps the lights on for us,” he remarked offhandedly, wanting to end the
conversation.
“Yes, the city’s and mine,” she quipped chuckling quietly.
The chopper landed outside the perimeter wall of the city. A gantry connected with the door.
The crew and Hunter walked through the enclosed passageway through an array of screening
devices. All clear. They entered the city and went their separate ways without any further
communication.
Hunter showered at work and changed. She slipped into a tight-fitting body suit and gave
her hair a quick brush over. Platinum blonde. Natural. Never would go grey. Her skin, soft
and chalk white, no blemishes. No wrinkles, although she was 40. And her mother was 70.
And Grandma, 120. On the outside Grandma looked so young. But that’s as far as it went.
Vital organs, brain, bone and muscle still succumbed to age. She loved her grandma so much.
She was wise, patient and caring. Always there.
On the way out she downloaded the scans of Area 42. Only Level 5s had security clearance
to open the files. Her assistant Level 4, L45353 was packing up her things ready to leave for
the day. She looked as if she had been crying. She wiped her eyes quickly as Hunter
approached. She picked up Hunter’s communicator by mistake and put it in her bag.
“You look a bit upset. You know that is frowned upon. Wipe your eyes and smile.
Whatever it is, get over it,” Hunter cautioning. “You know I don’t want to report one of my
staff for crying to the Party.”
“OK, just had a bad day. Something upsetting.” L45353 replying.
 Outside Hunter boarded an air train that whisked her to her grandmother’s sector. Two
minutes. Hardly time to digest the day. She strolled down the walkway lined with beautiful
trees. There was Grandma’s home. Three storeys high. Familiar. It was Grandma’s birthday.
 Chapter Two

“Sal! Sal! Get up, you’ll miss the bus.”

I hate when she calls me that. Why is she so irritating?
Knock! Knock!
“Come on, you’ll be late. You shouldn’t stay up so late.” Mum talking through the door.
“I’ve got a study period this morning! I don’t have to be at school till 10. I told you twice
last night!”
“Don’t use that tone of voice with me young lady. I was probably on the phone when you
told me! Anyway, you should get up, its 8 am.”
“Give it a rest would ya Mum! I want to lie in a bit.”
“Did you pack up your room last night? You never throw any of your dirty washing out.
How many weeks have you been wearing that top, two? And did you do the pots last night?
It's your turn. Why should I have to do everything around here?”
“Give it a rest would ya?”
“Don’t talk to me like that. You have no respect for me at all. I never spoke to my parents
like that when I was your age. Still wouldn’t.”
“Whatever! Whatever!” Gosh what a pain! Mum just went on and on, even when no one
was in the room. No wonder Dad left her. Dad. I miss you so much.
Sally rolled out of bed. Clothes were spread all over the floor. Why bother putting them
away. You were only going to take them out of the drawers again. She picked up a sweatshirt
and jeans and slipped them on. She opened her bedroom door and staggered to the bathroom.
Looked in the mirror. I’m not very pretty. Not even ordinary. Pale white skin and lots of
freckles.
“Got your gear for tonight?”
“Yes Mum, packed it last night.”
“Only thing you remember. Not your homework. Only your kickboxing gear. I suppose you
think of me when you’re kicking your opponent. But I guess your dad’s real proud!”
“Will ya leave Dad out of it!” Man, she can’t even start the day without bringing him up
within the first ten minutes. Coffee. That’s what I need. Can’t afford the bought stuff. Sally
ran downstairs. She checked the usual places.
“Mum, did you get any coffee the other day?”
“Can’t afford it, maybe you should ask your father to send a couple of jars?”
Sally felt herself losing it. Got to get out of here. May as well go to school. “Bye Mum, home
by 8.”

Almost end of Term 3, almost end of the school year. 2012! She could leave at the end of
the year, get a job, and go flatting with friends. But until then, still the same routine. Had to
bus to school every day. Sally stood at the bus stop. She lived in a state house suburb. No bus
shelters in her neighbourhood. If they did get them, somebody would probably turn it into
their home. So only a pole with a small bus stop sign on it. So, when it rained… Hated
waiting for buses. Such a waste of time. Five minutes late. They’re either too early or late,
never on schedule. She looked at the approaching bus trying to read the number. The sun was
in her eyes. She put out her hand. It stopped. Number 8. Next stop her friends would be
getting on. She looked up the bus when she got on. There he was. She sat down next to a boy
who was one grade lower than her. He looked uncomfortable. He was a real geek.
“Hi Michael.”
“What do you want? I suppose you’re going to kick box my head in?”
Why does everyone have a thing about people doing martial arts? Sally’s thought.
“Something for something, not something for nothing.” Sally has a plan.
 “Yeah, like what?” Geek curious.
“OK, I need five bucks.”
“Go on.”
“I heard some of the guys in your year are giving you a hard time.”
She took the money from his hand.
“I’ll have a chat with them before school starts.”
“Is this a weekly payment I have to make?”
“No. A oncer. And I’ll pay you back next week.”
Sally’s friends climbed up through the front door onto the bus.
“Nice boyfriend Sally,” her friend said with a smirk.
“Ha! Ha! Better to have had one than none.” Sally shot that one back.
“Ha! “Better to have had none than one like you. You should dump her Michael!” Her
friend’s comeback.
Sally got up and moved to the back of the bus with her friends. She pocketed the five
dollars and already could smell the aroma of the Latte in her mind. Barista here I come. Then
she could face her day. A Chem test. Why bother studying? She couldn’t even remember five
symbols from the table thingy.
Ten minutes later the bus lurched to a sudden stop. Useless driver. Always braked so hard.
Old passengers always hanging on for dear life. Hope he had to catch buses when he was old.
School! She had already pushed her way to the front and got off the bus first. A group of boys
were waiting at the bus stop for Michael. Their morning amusement at Michael’s expense.
Probably push him around and ask for his lunch money. She looked back and saw Michael
hesitating to get off. He cautiously moved down the steps, looking at the boys and looking for
her.
Sally turned around and marched up to him and shouted at him. “Hurry up would you!
What kind of a boyfriend are you if you can’t walk with me into school? Embarrassed in
front of your friends, are you?”
The group of boys looked at Michael and then at her. They backed off. Sally had a
reputation. One year older than them and a kickboxer. The bell rang. After “escorting” her
new “boyfriend” to class she headed to the school caff. Man, she needed a shot. She had
Maths and then Chem after study class.

After school finished, Sally caught a Number 7 bus to town. Her head rested on the
window. It rattled against the side of her head. It was sort of relaxing. She got off the bus
outside the hospital and wandered dreamily into the foyer. She looked at the elevator and
waited. Just like the buses. Waiting. The doors slid open and she pressed Level 6 and they
slid shut. The doors opened and she exited on Level 6. Polished vinyl floors. She imagined
the cleaner buffing the floor every day. I suppose that’s what I’ll be doing when I leave
school. She hated hospitals.
This ward was all old people. Old people irritated her. She listened to them on the bus.
They were always complaining. And talking about their friends. Rather, talking about their
friends’ sicknesses. That’s all you heard. Such and such, her arthritis is worse. Such and such,
had something removed, on and on they went. Reminiscing about the past all the time too: ‘I
used to catch the tram back then. There used to be such and such shop here back in
whenever.’ Maybe I’ll be like that too when I’m that old thought Sally.
“Can I help you, Miss?” a nurse asked.
“Yes, I’m here to visit Mrs Greer.”
“Room 12, bed 3, she’s been expecting you all day.”
Sally felt a lump in her throat. She loved Grandma. She got on so much better with her than
Mum. Why was that? Why couldn’t Mum be just like Grandma? Kind and patient, always
listening. More interested in her than her dirty laundry! Grandma was sick. The doctors didn’t
really know what she had. A rare disease. They thought. Hetherington’s disease or
something. Not much they could do for her. Try a few experimental drugs? They gave her a
few months; she might see Christmas out, maybe see the New Year in. At least she would
have lived to see Sally hit 16. Sally felt so helpless.
Then a memory. A dream she had last night. Weird. Sci-fi like or something. What a world
she had been in! The dream was hazy. Maybe she’d remember more later. Funny. Like déjà
vu! She felt like she had gone visiting Grandma before, but not here, somewhere else, not
now, but sometime else. Weird.
 Chapter Three

L45353 and L45252 held hands firmly. They felt no fear, as this was an emotion that had
been totally suppressed by genetic engineering. L45252 looked at his wife. He loved her so
much and was prepared to risk all for her. L45353 looked back at him and loved him for his
commitment to her. He was risking all so that she could have their own child. Not an
allocated one by the Party, engineered for the Party and made by the Party.
“Are you sure they said there was an underground city in Area 42?” the husband asked,
wanting reassurance.
“Yes, I heard the two-Party members discussing it. They didn’t realise I was in the room.”
Wife repeating. “They often come to see Hunter’s scans. They took particular interest in her
scan of Area 42 and accessed her files after she left.”
“Populated city! You mean actual people down there?”
“Yes.” Wife emphatic.
L45252 had delivered the L1 workers in his chopper to the Geo-thermal station. They were
the new work detail. He had dropped them off early. Instead of returning to the city he had
continued on to Area 42 and landed the chopper. They were going to try to make contact with
the underground city. He could then go back and pick up the work detail that had completed
their shift. L45252 had a two-hour window.
They were standing at the entrance of one of the subterranean cave systems. “Let’s try one
of our communicators to see if we can make contact.” Wife takes her communicator out and
looks puzzled. She sent out a number of messages on the communicator on different
bandwidths. Nothing. A rustling noise behind her.
“Time you came back to the city, the Party will speak to you.” Level 1 standing inside the
chopper. The Level 1 had a weapon but wouldn’t need it. Level 4s weren’t combat trained.
They wouldn’t resist or even try to run.
“Please,” the wife pleaded.
Another Level 1 emerged from the chopper. He had also been hidden onboard the chopper.
Waiting. Hidden. Ready to strike. The Party had known about the husband and wife’s attempt
to contact Area 42 all along.
“File a report to the Party.” The first Level 1 directing the second Level 1.
They took pictures and took her communicator and downloaded the information to their
own devices. This was then relayed to the Party. There was an encrypted reply to her
communication, but L45353 never had the chance to see it. All four boarded the chopper and
headed directly back to the city. Wife and husband had their heads bowed down, holding
hands. An hour outside the city the chopper exploded, vaporised by an onboard device.
Detonated into oblivion. Control. The Party had acted to ensure all knowledge of this incident
was removed. Quarantined.

The Party Leadership sat quietly. Thinking. They were the top ten Level 5s. They were the
genetic elite. They looked the same and dressed the same. They seemed to share the same
consciousness. Same numbers: L5A. They were the apex of the pyramid. Their decisions
were law. They made Order. Almost like clones of one another. They could act together or
alone. So, if one L5A passed a law, it was like all had passed a law. Unified. Control. The
people, the controlled. That kept order that ensured their survival.
One of the Level 5A’s spoke breaking the silence. “How can this have occurred? How
could this happen?” He turned to the Party member on his left. “I don’t understand,” he said.
“Who is this person?”
“The subject is Level 1, he works in Archives,” the flanking Party member replied
stoically.
 The same Level 5A replied, “We screen all the Levels from one to four for DNA impurities
and flaws. Once they reach Level 5 after many generations, we allow them to have their own
children. But Level one to four are still 99 percent pure. They still should obey all our social
rules. They know it's their obligation.”
“Religion?” another L5A exclaimed aloud. “How can we explain this?”
Another L5A of the Party postulated: “It could be a rogue gene. A freak occurrence.”
“Send him in,” the first L5A requested.
Level 1 entered the closed room hearing.
“Please take a seat,” Level 5A motioned to a chair facing the panel of the Party.
Level 1 seated.
“Your submission to the Party for permission to practise your own religion is denied. The
Party created our own religion centuries ago. There is one religion. One Party. One people.
Our city has a religion with a long history. We don’t need a Messiah, priests or holy books.
Our religion is one that we, as humans have created. It comes from man and involves man.
There is no God.
When someone turns 120, a week later they are terminated. They are terminated because
our city cannot maintain older people. We don’t have the resources. They make the supreme
sacrifice. We all watch their termination. Gratitude. Admiration. For their virtue. Virtue in
humanity. Goodness is the ultimate God for us. And we worship by our gratitude and respect
and honour for those noble people who are terminated. Man is God and God is in man. Now
you want to revive one of the old religions. They are unscientific and against the evolution of
the human species. Therefore, permission to practise is denied.”
Level 1 asks for permission to speak.
Granted. He was allowed to argue his case.
“I don’t believe in evolution. I believe we were created by God.”
Level 5A stared. This Level 1 must have read a bible in the historic archives, an act that
was prohibited by the Party for anyone working in that department. However, the Party had
prepared a response to the Level 1’s request. They had done their research on the bible.
Convince rather than condemn was their preferred method.
“I have one word to say to you.” L5A, voice firm. “Dinosaurs!”
“I have one word in reply: ‘Angels!’” Level 1’s response.
“What do you mean?” A female L5A.
“Well, neither dinosaurs nor angels are mentioned in the Genesis Creation story in Chapter
one. But we know from other parts of the bible that angels were created. This means the story
of creation is only partial, not the full picture. We can’t expect everything to be mentioned in
Genesis then.” Level 1’s response. “But what information we have in Genesis is sufficient for
what we need to know.”
“You expect me to believe that God created the world in six days given the scientific
evidence that the Earth is billions of years old? You expect me to believe that man popped up
out of the ground and a woman was made from his rib given the fossil record for evolution?”
Another L5A arguing.
The Level 1 responded. “The book of Genesis was not written as a scientific book. It was
written to show that God created our universe. Creation is not the result of impersonal
random processes like evolution.”
“Yes, acknowledged. But the bible consistently maintains that the Genesis account is
historical fact. Science has proven this historical account false,” the Party replied.
Level 1 delved deeper. “This appears true. But how can an infinite God explain to humans
who are limited in reason, the science behind his creative acts? Perhaps Genesis is given in
language we can comprehend. God speaking creation into being in six days is a way we can
understand this miracle.”
 The Party was surprised at his answers. This Level 1 should not have possessed the intellect
in his DNA structure to understand these issues. That is why Level 1s worked in Archives
and were allowed to look after the ancient books in the library. They wouldn’t understand or
even be interested in the books they worked with. Where did he get these ideas from? Maybe
he was part of a wider underground group. This group might have leaders. Level 5s may even
be the leaders. That would explain his advanced ideas. They needed to investigate further and
carefully find out if he was part of a secret network.
Level 5A continued the investigation. “Excuses! Bible facts aren’t credible. Scientific ones
like evolution are proven and reliable!”
Level 1 responded. “Evolution and Creation do differ. One is a long process; the other is
short. I can’t harmonise Genesis and science. The bible challenges us to trust in God and not
our reason alone. Evolution is not so reliable as you think. The two Nobel Prize scientists
who discovered DNA hundreds of years ago stated that DNA was too complex to be the
product of evolution and they proved it mathematically to be impossible!”
Impasse. Stalemate.
The Party members sat silent and would not respond. Would not because could not. Some
questions remain unresolved. Even after centuries of new knowledge. The Party looked
intently at the Level 1.
Another L5A spoke out. “If evolution is impossible, the bible is more so. It has no evidence
to support it.”
Level 1 responded. “Prophecy is the evidence.”
Collectively, all the L5A’s burst out laughing.
The Level 1 continued patiently. “The bible made many predictions that came true. This is
evidence that the bible is credible and reliable. So, when we have difficulties like Genesis and
the six-day creation, we just don’t reject the bible.”
“Prophecy?” One L5A spoke out for the first time. “I have read the book of Revelation.
Devils and beasts and marks of 666 on hands. What utter nonsense!”
Level 1 responded. “What the Book of Revelation predicts is very important for us today.
There are symbols, but look behind them. The book of Revelation speaks of humans wanting
to conquer humans. Setting up empires. Making the people of these empires give
unquestioning loyalty. Control. But these empires have the seeds of their own destruction.
The controlled hate being controlled. So, they turn on the controllers and consume them in
the end.”
All the L5A’s were silent. Uncomfortable. Control? Sounds like us. If the cap fits…
An L5A spoke out looking for resolution. Closure. “What would you have us do? Grant you
permission? Let you go and convert others to your belief. Our society would then become
divided into those who believe and those who do not. Then believers would divide amongst
themselves and unbelievers too. And soon we would have chaos and social disintegration.
We order you to renounce your beliefs. The Party for the people and the people for the
Party!”
Level 1 stands his ground. “I must obey God rather than the Party. I cannot renounce my
beliefs.”
Autonomy: the enemy of the Party. Old ideas revived that differed to the Party. Threat. Like a
cancer.
The Party rose and stood to announce their verdict. This situation was unique. The Party had
genetically engineered society. DNA. Modifying. Altering. Removing. A homogenous
society. Order. Order threatened. Corrective action needed.
Level 1 dismissed. Exits.
Their investigation had revealed one positive fact. Level 1 was operating alone. There was no
underground. No others to deal with. Level 1 had answered their command to renounce his
faith in the singular. He had said, ‘I must obey God,’ and ‘I can’t renounce my beliefs.’ The
Party could quarantine this infection quickly.
A Level 2 entered the room and stood behind one of the Party. The member bent his head
towards him. Level 2 whispers a message into the ear of the L5A. A look of concern spreads
over his face.” Are you sure, absolutely sure?
The L2 nods twice.

Hunter ran up to her grandma’s house and entered the familiar front door. Doors were all
unlocked. Robbery was in nobody’s genes anymore. There she was, seated as usual reading a
book. Hunter gave an excited greeting.
“Happy Birthday, Grandma!”
A youthful face that defied her years looked up with eyes filled with warmth and affection.
“Hunter, I’m so glad you came.”
“120! How does it feel Grandma?”
“Gratitude. That’s all I feel. The Party gave me a trouble-free life, but it went so quickly. I
don’t know where the time went. One day I was 13 and then 1, 2, 3 and I am 120. I
sometimes still think like that 13-year-old girl as if I had never grown up.”
“Grandma, it's our last week together. I want to spend every day with you.”
“I know. I want you to be with me every day too. Here, I’ve made you your favourite hot
drink, I’ll get you a cup.” Grandma got up and went to get the drink.
“Thanks, that would be nice. Had a long day today.” Hunter yawning a little.
They sat in silence. A week after a person turned 120, they were terminated. A social burden.
A waste of scarce economic resources. Termination. Even the members of the Party. What
was good for the people was good for the Party. Order. The Party. The People. Everyone had
a mutual social obligation. Hunter felt and knew it was right. She never questioned. It wasn’t
in her genes to question. She looked at Grandma. She felt respect. Pride. In her. Doing what
is right. I will do it too.
 Chapter Four

Sally looked at Grandma sleeping peacefully. She wouldn’t wake her now. She put her
“Get well, I love you” card on her bedside table. She would come again tomorrow. Everyday.
She caught the elevator down to the foyer and shouldered her kickboxing gear. Sally caught
the bus from the hospital to the championship venue.
She went the back way into the arena and headed for the changing rooms. She had entered the
2012 Junior Kickboxing championships. Just the break she needed. She was in the final.
Sally put on her donated gear. She hated handouts. Made her feel like trash. Rich people.
Millions in profits and then went around giving it all away. Why not just charge less for your
products? Then we would all have more money in our pocket.
Handouts. Charity! Food parcels for the poor. Agencies divided everything. A box of a
hundred tea bags was donated. What did the charities do? Split them up. Went further. Ten
packs of ten tea bags, one pack per family. Why not just give one family the
whole box? Charity just humiliated you even more! Why couldn’t rich people just ask you
round for dinner and be your friend instead of just donating stuff? And then come round the
next week to your crummy house, sit on your crummy couch and watch your crummy TV
and think nothing of it. If I were rich, I’d probably act just like them, Sally cynically
thought.
“Ready for the fight?” her coach asked as Sally emerged from the changing rooms.
She nodded. She strolled out in the arena and onto the mat. Mum and Dad weren’t here.
Too busy. She looked at her opponent. She had heard that this girl was one tough opponent.
No racial slurs or your fined, Sally thought. Don’t make any of those sorts of comments, even
to wind her up.
Grandma had told her prejudice was bad. But Sally couldn’t help herself. She always
laughed at the jokes. Her thoughts were filled with prejudice. People promoted tolerance
publicly, but when the doors were closed at home said another. That justified her own
prejudice. Why fight it? It's something in us, in all of us.
Grandma said that there were two steps to fight prejudice. Put yourself in their shoes and
imagine what it would be like if you were them. The second step was to turn any difference
into something positive. But getting your opponent angry was one of Sally’s strategies to win.
Just avoid racial slurs, she thought. For Grandma.
“Forgot to shave your moustache this morning, did you?” Sally yelled at her opponent.
Work them up a little. Anger made a person do stupid things.
“Sorry, forgot. You’re the gorilla that escaped from the zoo this morning. I can smell you
from here,” Sally continued.
Sally walked over and stood in front of her opponent. “Oh, by the way, shave your eyebrow
in the middle, humans have two not one.”
Her opponent finally took the bait. “You piece of white trash, I’m gonna break your big fat
mouth with my big fist!” she yelled back.
The referee stood between them. He cautioned Sally’s opponent and repeated the warning
to Sally.
The two girls squared off. Sally’s target took a swing at her and missed. More anger than
skill. Good. Sally was looking for a hole in the girl’s defence. Waiting. Waiting for the right
moment to strike. A roundhouse kick struck Sally in the stomach. Pain. That was the move
she had wanted though. Her opposition still on one leg. Slightly off balance. Good. Sally,
having bent forward to absorb her opponent’s kick, sprung up and punched the girl under the
chin. It felt like hitting a brick. Her opponent’s head snapped back and she crashed to the
mat.
 “Back off,” said the ref to Sally. “You OK?” he asked the girl who by now was on her
knees.
Sally could see in the corner of her eye her coach on his feet shouting with pride.
“Knew you could do it Sal,” he shouted.
Sally looked at the girl on the mat. Her opponent was still in shock. Maybe a broken jaw.
She was on her knees still, leaning forward on her hands on all fours. Sally walked over. The
ref thought she was going to say something nice. Sally walked over and kicked the girl as
hard she could in the ribs and sent her sprawling to the other side of the mat. Shock. The ref
yelling at her. Both coaches running to the mat. Sally turned to the referee and smacked him
one right in the mouth as hard as she could. He fell backwards in mid-sentence shouting.

“Sal! Sal!” Knock! Knock! Hollow sound of the door.

“Get up! Its 8 and you have school today.”
Sally opened her eyes, anger boiling inside at her mother for waking her up.
“Get lost would you.”
“Don’t you dare talk to me like that! You’re in truckloads of trouble already,” Sally’s mum
screamed back through the door.
‘Truckloads!’ Don’t you hate it when adults use young people’s words and try to sound
young? Sally rolled out of bed and headed to the bathroom. She felt half-dead. She ran the
cold tap on the basin and splashed water on her face. Her towel over her face. She dragged
the towel downwards wiping the water off and stared in the mirror. She froze. A cold chill
shot up her spine. Who the…? Staring back at her was not her face. It was face perfect. Deep
blue eyes. Platinum blonde hair. She was so beautiful. Soft white skin. Perfect cheek bones.
Not a blemish. This isn’t me.

“Sal! Sal!” Knock! Knock! Hollow sound of the door.

“Get up! Its 8 and you have school today.”
Sally rolled over, opening her eyes and bolted up quickly. In shock. Freaked out. The face
in the mirror. It was a dream, but so real. Wanting reassurance from Mum.
“OK, Mum, I’ll get up” Sally replied weakly.
“What’s happened to you today? You sound like a new Sally. I only had to ask you once
today to get up. Maybe you’ve seen some sense at last.” Mum, her voice softening.
Recovered from the shock. The mirror. The face.
“Get lost you old cow!” Sally screamed fiercely back through the door.

Sally arrived at school and got off the bus. She walked along deep in thought. I’m in
truckloads of trouble. The fight. The fallout. The court said an apology letter would
help. So, she wrote a letter to the other girl saying how she regretted not kicking her harder.
That didn’t help.
“Hey Sally!”
It was Michael. Her “boyfriend”.
“Are you going to the school formal?” he asked.
“You have to be joking,” Sally answered abruptly.
Sally hated those things. Backless dresses, makeup and heels. In fact, she hated most of the
things she saw around her. Girly stuff! Their little diary appointments and perfect picnics!
Girls with streaked hair: pink, red or green. And their stupid friendship bracelets of different
colours. Looked more like hospital ID bracelets. Their social network pages and cheesy
comments about oh how nice your photos look. And “like” everything. Then when they got
older and left school some of them went the other way and tried to be GI Gemmas or
something, with shaved heads and tattoos – butterflies on the back or full arm coverings or
tattoos on their white shaven legs or fat ankles. Studs and piercings. Into the nose or navel or
if really out there, one in the tongue.
“…and I was wondering if you would come with me to the formal?”
Sally hadn’t been listening at all. What? This guy asking me out or what?
“… the other guys are laughing at me saying I would need a real blind date for anyone to go
with me,” Michael kept talking.
Sally looked at him for a moment. Typical geek. Glasses. Hair combed from the side. Slim,
effeminate body. Small facial features. White skin. His sweatshirt without a hood. Poor guy.
Up until a year ago, he probably was still doing his top button up on his shirt. Ring up his
friends: ‘Hey, did you check out the latest action game? Awesome or what?’
Sally turned to him and suddenly felt sorry for him. Probably had a hard time all his school
life. Bullied. She imagined what it would be like to be married to him. Dinner to a timetable.
Monday lasagne. Tuesday oh so healthy vegetable quiche with side salad and low-fat mayo.
Me. Dressed simply but expensively, not too showy. Blouse, tights and a single string of
pearls around the neck. Him. After dinner. Later on. Coming to bed. Kids asleep. Bedtime
stories read. Glasses off. On to the bedside table. Courteous. Tell me about your day. I would
reply. Remind him about kids’ up and coming little pageants.
“Tell you what,” Sally said.
Michael looked up hopeful.
“I don’t do the formal thing so no I won’t go with you. But I’ll give you an out. Tell the
others in your class that on formal night you’re going out for dinner with me. Saturdays are
free for me now. I’ve been banned for life from kickboxing.”
“Thanks Sally. Where do you want to go?”
“You can take me somewhere nice. I’ve never been to a posh restaurant before.”
“Great.” Michael was beaming.
“See ya Saturday Sally.”
“Bye.”
Sally thinking ahead. The future. Geeks often succeeded in life. Michael could be a useful
friend 10 years down the track. Maybe a lawyer or computer whiz who makes a fortune.
Think ahead Sally. Future asset. Networks. Michael an IOU for Sally who put her neck out
for him and went out with him. He’ll owe me one, Sally thought.
Sally was in the school corridor. Chem. Chem test results. Not good. She entered the
classroom and sat down. Bell rang.
 Chapter Five

After work, Hunter had made the usual trip to Grandma’s place. She would visit her every
day until the termination ceremony. She was greeted by her grandmother with the usual
smile. Soon all this would be just memories, Hunter thought. They sat together, Hunter
sipping her grandma’s famous brew. It felt warm. Hunter was so tired. Her Level 4 assistant
hadn’t turned up to work and her communicator was missing. They talked together and
laughed about the past. Hunter rested her head back on the chair and closed her eyes. She felt
another presence in the room.
An L5A of the Party came into Grandma’s house silently. Hunter recognised her
immediately. She was one of the ten Party Council members. She had spoken to Hunter quite
often about her research in the past. Her name was Sayano. Only close friends and family
could use that name though. “May I?” she asked motioning towards the chair.
Grandma was asleep, the book resting on her lap. Hunter looked at her grandmother and then
back to the woman. Hunter continued sipping her favourite drink that Grandma always made
her.
“Your grandmother has lived a long life of useful service,” the Party member spoke softly
and sat down.
“A life you’re now going to take off her,” Hunter answered vehemently, anger rising in her.
Hunter was shocked. She had never felt anger before. L5A stared at her.
“L5D643, um Hunter, it's not like you to say, think or even feel like that. We all have a
social obligation,” Sayano reminded her condescendingly.
“The Party for the people and the people do what the Party tells them,” Hunter replied
sneeringly.
“Hunter, you’re acting strangely. Maybe we better go to the clinic to run a few checks.”
“And have me join Grandma fulfilling my social obligation,” Hunter sarcastic.
The Party member rose up from her chair, sensing danger. Situation tense. Hunter rose too.
She walked quickly toward her. This is for Grandma. She gave the L5A a hard, swift
undercut to the chin. Her head jerked back and she slumped into the chair. Hunter, raised fist.
That will teach you.

“Hunter, Hunter,” it was Grandma shaking her arm.

Hunter shot up. She had fallen asleep in the chair. Grandma was staring at her.
“You looked so angry. Your arms. So violent. What were you dreaming about?”
“Where’s the Party member?” Hunter asked.
“An L5A? I’m not that important for the Party to come to visit me for my birthday,”
Grandma chuckled. “You must have been dreaming.”
“I have to go Grandma; Carbine will be home soon. I love you.”
“I love you too. Are you alright? You look confused.”
“Be back tomorrow, same time.”
Hunter got on the air train. She was confused. Anger was not in her vocabulary of emotions.
Nor was violence. Security detail were the only ones trained to deal with such things. And
that was strictly controlled. Why had she got so angry? Grandma was doing the right thing by
being terminated.
She arrived at her apartment block. Dinner was always delivered. Same regular menu.
Same portions. Same processed taste. She started to feel herself again. Regularity. Order.
Right from wrong. The Party. Maybe she should check into the clinic. This was so unusual
for her, a Level 5.
Carbine. Sitting. Waiting. On the couch. He looked up. She felt a surge of warmth and love
and happiness. Life was good here. They had everything. Gratitude. She walked up behind
him and gave him a big hug around his broad shoulders. “I love you,” Hunter said full of
affection.
“Missed you today,” Carbine replied holding her arms tightly to himself. They ate their
meal in silence. Hunter liked the silence. She could gather her thoughts. That’s why she liked
Carbine. Caring. Handsome. Low maintenance. Not demanding. Maybe that’s why she had
married a Level 1. She looked down at her meal. The cubes were exactly all the same size.
Soft. No texture. Different colours and tastes, but all regular in shape. Order. Why had she
got angry? That emotion made her feel sick inside. She only ever had good emotions. That
was in her DNA. Only good emotions.
Later that night Hunter was lying on her side in bed. Thinking. She was so tired. She would
analyse the results of her scans and tabulate them for the Party in the morning. Carbine’s
quiet breathing next to her made her feel secure. She lay there staring at the wall thinking of
Grandma. Terminated. Sadness. Sleepy, drifting off. Voices. Girls giggling. Chairs scraping
on a floor. Hunter drifting off. Dreaming. Hunter sitting in a classroom in her dream. Where
am I she thought?
 Chapter Six

“Right. I have the results for the test. Well done most of you. You studied hard and have
results to show for it.”
Teacher Pep talk. Study equals good results. What if you’re stupid at Chem? Sally’s result:
13%! Alright for the teacher, Sally thought, she’s got the answer book.
“Hey Sal. Heard about the fight. Played fair, did you?” Girl next to her.
Ignore.
“You’re a real messed up person, you know that?” Same girl.
Ignore that one too.
“Now class, look at the last question on the test. No one even attempted this one. Any ideas
about how to solve this?” Teacher asking.
Why ask if you already know the answer? Sally.
Girl next to her. Calls out. “Sally knows the answer!”
Class giggles.
Teacher thinks. Say something. Look good even though you really don’t care about Sally
either.
“That’s enough of that.” Teacher responds back.
“Too easy.” Sally couldn’t believe she just said that.
More giggles. Teacher thinking. She must be being smart as usual. I’ll show her who’s in
control!
“Perhaps you’d care to show us the answer.” Teacher talking. Put her in her place. Scribble
equation on board with gaps. Balance the equation Sally!

___ NaNO3 + ___ PbO → ___(NO3)2 + ___ 2O

Teacher holds out whiteboard marker to Sally. Sally walks up and fills in gaps.

2 NaNO3 + PbO → Pb (NO3)2 + Na2O

Teacher, Sally and class silent. How did it happen?

Everyone thinking. How did she, how did I do it?
“Can I ask you a question?” Sally challenging.
“Of course.” Teacher still shocked.
“Can you write the balanced equation for the reaction between acetic acid with aluminium
hydroxide to form water and aluminium acetate?” Sally asking.
Teacher. “What? Not off-hand.” Feeling anger.
Sally writes on board.

3 C2H3O2H + Al (OH)3 → Al(C2H3O2)3 + 3 H2O

No one spoke. Teacher just staring. Class silent. Sally silent.

 Chapter Seven

Hunter woke up with a start. Chemistry? Sally? So vivid. Where did those images come
from? Carbine had already left without waking her up. She needed to talk to someone about
these dreams. Felt like she was connecting with someone. She got up and went to the
bathroom. The tap turned on automatically. She splashed water on her face and looked up. No
fear. That had been removed genetically as well as pain. Whose face was staring back at her
in the mirror? It was a plain, ordinary face, not hers. Pale with so many freckles.

Hunter woke up with a start. She rolled over. A dream within a dream. Strange dream. Weird.
Who was that girl looking back at her in the mirror in her dream? Carbine had already left
without waking her up. Forget about dreams. Get back to reality, Hunter.
She sat up and thought about her day ahead. She was due in the lab today to process the rest
of her scans of the outlying areas around their walled city. All the caves and abandoned
underground mines that lay hidden beneath the surface. Written report. Had to complete it by
Friday for the Party. The last scans to check were for Area 42. Then off to Grandma’s place.
Six more days before termination. She felt a surge of anger within. What a strange feeling.
Like the dream the other day at Grandma’s place when she got so angry and hit the L5A.
Everyone, Levels 1 to 5 and even the Party never experienced “anger”! Must see the Party
about this she thought.

Hunter took the air train from her apartment that was near the perimeter wall of their city.
Enclosed. Safe. Order. But now she felt anger. Why should Grandma be terminated? What
gave the Party the right to dictate when a person would die? All in the name of being for the
good of their society? Their ancient religion and tradition? Her stop. The centre of their city.
The main building. Dominates the city. This is where the Party deliberated. Policy. Decisions.
Rules. Order. She climbed the front stairs and stood on the entrance pad. “An L5A please,”
Hunter requested.
She was running earlier than usual and nothing was open yet.
A screen popped up in front of her on the outer wall next to the entrance doors. A woman’s
face appeared before her. It was Sydney, a member of the Party Council. An L5A. “Leave a
message with me and I will respond,” the recorded image spoke.
“I would like to ask the Party for permission for my grandmother’s termination to be
cancelled and for her to die from natural causes. I just feel this is right.” Hunter challenging.
“Message received, thank you L5D643.” Recorded response.
Hunter walked back down the steps and walked to the adjacent building designated for
research. She couldn’t believe she had just done that. Questioned. Wanted change. Control
relaxed. A new order. What had happened to her? DNA modified for generations to create
people who complied. She was not complying. It was those dreams. They had changed her.
She paced up the stairs and entered the building. No one else would be at work yet. She was
a few hours early. Mind fixed on work. Must analyse the readings at Area 42 and put together
a report for the Party. Hunter took the elevator to the third floor to examine her scans and
records of Area 42. She sat down for a couple of hours examining the data. She was halfway
through when she decided to have a break. Take the elevator downstairs. Have a drink. She
entered her office. She saw her communicator on her desk. It looked newer. Must have left it
there the other day, she thought. Or maybe her staff replaced it with a new one without telling
her.
“Hello L5D643.”
It was that cheeky Level 1 security officer. He was waiting in her office as usual.
“Hi, I’m not going out today to do any scopes.” Hunter wondering why he was here today.
 “L5A just got your message about your grandmother. She will consider your request.
However, she has asked us to do another scan of Area 42. A chopper is waiting.” His voice
betraying no sign of any emotion.
“OK. I’ll get my stuff.”
“No need. I’ve packed it already.”
Something not quite right. Had she crossed the line with her request about her grandma?
“OK, give me a moment.”
“It's urgent we go now; the member of the Party needs the report by tonight.” Pressure.
“OK. Let’s go then. It should only take about six hours to do.” Hunter complying.
Air train to the perimeter wall in silence. No questions. No small talk. They arrived at the exit
point and passed through the covered passageway to the gantry entrance.
They clambered aboard. The helicopter disengaged from the gantry and rose sharply upward.
Too fast. Something wrong. They passed by the Geo-thermal stations with their deep probes
that penetrated the Earth and converted the heat into the power that kept their city alive in the
desert wastes of the continent. Silence. Tension.
Area 42 appeared on the horizon a few hours later. The chopper landed blowing fine dust in
every direction. Ten minutes after landing the dust had settled and they disembarked.
“I can take it from here. You can wait with the chopper. Just keep me in your scopes.
There’s no life forms or danger out here,” Hunter said.
She dropped to the ground and started walking over the dunes. The equipment was so light.
She headed towards an outcrop of rocks. There was an opening there to a subterranean
system. Hunter heard footsteps behind her.
Cheeky Level 1. What now, she thought? She turned around and looked at him approaching
her. “I haven’t forgotten anything, have I?”
Hunter saw him approaching with his weapon in both hands. Maybe he had seen something
dangerous in his scopes and was coming to investigate. She appreciated his concern.
“Thought you might want some extra water, it's so dry out here.” Level 1 considerate.
She smiled and held out her hand. Smile freezes. No, it can’t be.
The Level 1 had raised his weapon and was pointing it directly at her. Is this about trying to
save Grandma?
“I’ve got orders, Hunter.” Level 1 no emotion, but why did he call her by her name?
Hunter wasn’t trained in combat. That was Level 1s. They were trained as security. She was
an archaeologist. Level 5. Privilege. And here she stood, ordered to be shot. No fear. Hunter’s
mind had been conditioned by her DNA. She stepped closer to the Level 1. “Carbine, what
will you do without my love?” Hunter whispered.
Level 1. Momentary hesitation.
Hunter moved swiftly. Automatically. She didn’t know how she did it. In an instant. She bent
forward, sprung up and punched the Level 1 under the chin. It felt like hitting a brick. As the
security officer fell backwards, he discharged his weapon. A flash. Hunter’s head jerked back
glanced by the shot, part of her face torn off by the blast. Both fell back and passed out into
oblivion.
 Chapter Eight

Sally walked home in a daze. Chemistry. How had she known that? It had come so easy. The
answers just flashed into her mind as if she was somebody else. So weird. Like her dreams.
Who was that beautiful girl in the mirror? Was it her answering the questions? She didn’t
catch the bus. She had to walk home and think things out.
Ten minutes later she arrived home. Her Mum was waiting outside looking for her.
“Here she is.” Mum talking to someone inside. Probably a legal person from the courts
about the assault charges against her from the fight.
Sally approached the front door and climbed the steps. She came inside the lounge.
Lady sitting on a single sofa chair. A cameraman to one side. Background lighting screens.
“Hi, my name’s Gemma from the local TV station. I’m a reporter for the current affairs
program 7PM.”
Milk this for what it's worth, Sally thought. I wasn’t expecting this kind of publicity. Good
or bad publicity might open doors.
“Don’t give interviews.” Sally said dismissively.
“Sally, mind your manners. This is a local reporter. They want to talk to you about the
fight.” Mum. Put on a good impression. Not her fault her daughter’s an aggressive psycho. At
least, that’s what you want them to think. I’m a good mum. Even if I’m a solo. Must be her
father’s genes not mine! Can’t be helped!
Sally sat down in a chair next to this “Gemma”.
“Well, we can offer you a small gift.” Gemma manipulating. “We just want to hear your
side. We spoke to your opponent. We’re running a story on youth violence and its causes.
You know, it’s a hot topic this youth aggression.”
“What? Current affair shows doing issues like that? Something a little deeper than your
usual stories like how much bacteria is on your dishcloth or how many germs there are in
your local motel room?” Sally cynical.
Gemma grimaced.
“Five hundred dollars and you’ve got my side. I don’t want some crummy ten-
dollar voucher from the local burger joint.” Sally pushy.
“One hundred and its done.” Gemma bargaining.
“Cash.” Sally held out her hand.
Money handed over.
Gemma nodded to the cameraman. They could do some serious editing of the footage back at
the studio. Milk it for what it's worth. Gemma, do a good job and you might get some bigger
stories. Camera started rolling.
“You were so aggressive on the night of the 2012 kickboxing championships. Do you think
violent entertainment, in whatever form, influenced you in anyway?” Gemma setting the
theme for the story.
“Stop trying to dig so deep. I want publicity. If I won the championships, I’d get only so
far. Maybe a small mention in the local paper. But if I did something outrageous, I might get
on TV.” Sally trying to justify why she did what she did.
Sally being honest. Its worked hasn’t it. These current affair shows were always desperate for
a real story. Just didn’t know what to do with one when they got it.
“So, kick your opponent when their down and knock out the referee, is that what young
people think they have to do to get publicity?” Gemma pressing.
“Well, you’re here, aren’t you?” Sally pushing back.
Gemma’s cheeks reddening slightly. Anger rising.
Sally continued. “Maybe a magazine will come round next and do a two-page spread. Me on
one side and my opponent on the other. Glossy pics and all.” Sally outlining her plan.
 “Then a small movie part might come your way, like the role of a bad girl or something?”
Gemma mocking, but not too much, she’s only sixteen after all.
“Or my own show, “Bad Girl”, but I wouldn’t have to pretend to be one coz I already am
one.” Sally hoping the right people were watching. They might decide to take her up on that
idea. T.V. studios were always getting celebrities to host shows about things they knew
nothing about. At least she would be the real thing.
“OK, bad girl, why bad? Is our culture violent? Computer games, movies and in your face
attitudes?” Gemma. Get back to the editor’s brief. Stick to the script. Editor’s approval
wanted. Good job Gemma, you got what the people wanted to hear. What the editor wants
them to hear.
Sally. Thinking. Show a soft side. You’re not black and white. Complex.
“I think it's more a reaction. A reaction to social injustice. My mum’s a solo mum. We’re
second-class citizens. Made to feel that way. Treated like that. Hand me downs and cast offs
is all I have ever worn. Even my gear for the championships. Nothing new. No invites from
other people. Government always bashing us. Even if you make it, you’re never good
enough.”
“So bad girl could be good girl if living at the right address?” Gemma not liking this
tangent. Off the script.
“No,” Sally said leaving her trump card until last. “That’s not why I’m so angry.” Sally
building the suspense.
“Oh, some other reason?” Gemma probing. “Not just wanting publicity or anger at living at
the wrong address?”
“My Grandma’s dying, and there’s nothing I can do about it.” Eyes moistening. Bad girl
has a soft side too. Make it complex.
Camera on Sally. Camera on Mum, with hands covering her mouth, her eyes moistening.
Camera back to Gemma. Camera mostly on journalist even though the story isn’t about her.
“Do you know what it's like to have someone you love dying, someone who loves you and
accepts you for who you are and you feel just so helpless. I saw my grandma on the day of
the fight. I just hated everything, everybody. Had to lash out. So unfair.”
Sally thinking out loud. No longer caring about milking this for what it's worth. Real Sally
speaking. Camera rolling, but she didn’t care anymore. Why can’t the world know how I
feel? Sally thought. Grandma. If only I could save you for a few more years. I want you to
see me grow up and maybe make something of myself.
Gemma lost for words.
Sally continued talking. “End your days in a public hospital ward. Lonely. Aimless life.
Wondering why you ever were born. What have I achieved?” Sally lost in thought. Will I end
up the same?
Gemma back in control. Or so she thought. “Well thank you for your time Sally. Give all
my best to your grandma.”
“But you don’t even know her,” Sally weakly responding, still lost in thought.
Gemma. “OK, that’s a wrap.” Gemma thinking. Well, I hope we can do something with this
back at the studio. I’ve also got to get my one hundred bucks back from the editor. Gemma
thinking ahead. TV gear packed. Sally lost in thought. Interview over.
 Chapter Nine

Hunter woke with a start. Bandages covered one side of her face. She was lying on her back
on a hard table. She could hear water dripping and running down the walls.
“Where am I?” Hunter speaking aloud in a weak voice.
“You’re in Area 42 Hunter. We are about five miles underground.” A male voice speaking
behind her.
Hunter had checked that area once before, but hadn’t had time to analyse her scans.
“Who are you? How did you know my name?” Hunter asked.
“I’m called Planner. We had you under surveillance when you first landed at the mouth of
the cave. Quite a fight you got into. We brought you here before the pilot from your chopper
rescued the man you knocked out. We’ve patched up your face as best we could.”
Hunter ran her hand over the bandages. The right side of her face was completely covered in
bandages. There was no pain. No one felt pain in her world. The nerves had been silenced
over the centuries, as was any opposition to the Party.
“I bet you have a lot of questions. But not now. Rest awhile. You’re safe with us.” Planner
spoke with a reassuring tone.
“How long have I been out?” Hunter asked with concern.
“Only a few hours. Why? Are you in a hurry to get back?”
“My grandmother is going to be terminated in six days. I want to save her.”
Planner sighed. What a different way the surface cities had taken.
Hunter was confused. She had always believed the few surface cities were an oasis with the
only survivors of the planet. Area 42 was proof that others existed. She wondered if that was
what was behind the decision to get rid of her. The Party may have thought she knew about
this place from her scans and field studies.
“Do our leaders know about this place?” Hunter asking for a conspiracy theory.
Planner looked directly at Hunter and answered plainly. History lesson.
“Hundreds of years ago the Earth began to heat up. There were global meetings and targets
set for each country to stop this trend. It was Oil against Greens and GE against GE free but it
was pointless. What no one understood was that the magnetic poles were shifting and this
affected the course of the solar winds that envelope the planet. Our atmosphere literally got
blown away by solar radiation. The world literally died from the increase in temperature. But
enough atmosphere remained trapped on Earth in a narrow band around the equator so that a
few of us could survive. Some of us went above ground and some of us went below. The
Party knows about us, but they don’t actually know us.”
“Why would they want me dead?” Hunter asked feeling a sense of betrayal.
“Because the Party might have thought you knew about this place from your scans,”
Planner explained. “You might question things if you knew others existed outside your
world. This might upset your genetically programmed society.”
“So, I’m no better than a machine?” Hunter coming to terms.
“No, you make your own decisions but it's through a genetic filter. You will always act in a
certain way to situations all the time. When you knocked out the Level 1, that was not what
you were supposed to do.” Planner’s voice curious.
“But why kill me? Just because I might have found out from my scans that there was a city
underground. Is Area 42 a threat?” Hunter still confused.
“Yes, it is. Your world is Order. Order needs control. Our world is Disorder. We have no
controls. Our world is free. Whatever you want, you do it. Whatever you want you can have
it. As long as you can pay for it, it's yours. If you want to live until you die of old age you
simply pay for it. No one gets terminated in our city. Its barbaric.” Planner passionate. “Did
you say or do anything unusual that may have made the Party suspicious?”
 “Umm, well I did ask for Grandma’s termination to be cancelled. Maybe they thought I had
picked up your underground city on my scan and possibly, even had contact with you and
been influenced by your way of life. The Party may have suspected this after I challenged
them. We are genetically engineered to love and obey and not question. A very strong
influence can override our genes though. The Party may have thought that my love for
Grandma combined with your ideas of people dying naturally could have been why I
challenged them. The Party never takes risks. Maybe that’s why they ordered my death. Even
if it was only a suspicion.”
Planner agreed. “I know. We would never approach your city. We know that any
unauthorised person that approaches your city is shot on sight. It's like they want to keep your
city isolated from any outside influences. It's all about control. If they even suspected the
possibility of contact between us, it would be enough for them to terminate you.”
Hunter suddenly felt drowsy. She put her head back and felt sleep creeping over her like a
black shadow. It was too much for her to take in. Hunter soon fell into a deep sleep. Planner
left the room. He would wake her in a few hours.
 Chapter Ten

Sally looked in the mirror. She pinched herself. I’m awake and same plain freckled face
looking back at me in the mirror. Wish I had the face of my dream girl, she thought. It was
Saturday night date with the geek. He couldn’t even drive her to the restaurant. Maybe a
taxi. Apparently, his family was quite rich. Came to the local public school to make him
appreciate his dad’s wealth probably. She walked out of the bathroom; hair still wet. No
makeup. Black sports trousers on.
“Couldn’t you at least put a dress on?” Mum whining again.
“It's just a dumb date so I don’t have to go to the dumb formal!” Sally not caring less.
A horn sounding outside her house. Sally looked out her window. I don’t believe this she
thought to herself. Geek and Geek’s mum driving. He could have at least stolen his dad’s car
and picked her up. Stay inside Mum and don’t come out to meet the geeks and embarrass
me.
“Bye Mum.”
“Have a nice time.” Mum smiling.
Wipe that dumb smile off your face Sally thought. He’s not my boyfriend and this isn’t my
first date. Sally ran down the front porch stairs and outside to the car before he could knock
on the front door and meet my mum. She hopped in the back seat. Michael was sitting in the
front looking geekier than usual. Hair wet and combed to the side. The car. Economical yet
elegant. Typical. Geeks.
“Hi Mrs Michael’s mum.” Typical Sally.
“Hi, actually my name’s Mrs Prince. Nice to meet you. I’m glad you two are going out. I’ve
heard so much about you and how you are such a loyal friend to Michael.”
“Did Michael tell you my mum’s a solo mum and we’re white trash?” Sally like sandpaper.
They arrived at the restaurant in silence. Sally thinking. Michael’s mum probably putting a
positive spin on it and thinking, ‘It's good for him to know how the other half live.’
Restaurant called Maxim’s. French. Quite posh. Sally got out of the car followed by
Michael.
“Pick you up at eight.”
They entered the elegant French restaurant.
“Good evening, Michael.”
They must be regulars Sally thought. No shop ever said, ‘Hi Sally’, not even the local fish
and chip shop. They usually could hardly speak English, anyway.
They were seated at a beautiful table, covered in glasses and cutlery impeccably laid out.
Sally gets a menu. Michael does too. No pre-dinner drinks ordered. Both underage.
Thankfully under the French writing was an English translation.
“What are you going to order?” Michael asked with a tinge of excitement. His first date.
“Not sure,” Sally thought as her eyes skimmed each item.
“Garcon!” Michael shows off.
“Yes, ready to order Michael?”
“I’ll have the beef avec sauce au beurre de champignons.”
“Certainly, and Mademoiselle?”
“Um, can I have a well-done steak with chips and two fried eggs?” Not on the menu, but
what Sally would really like. None of this fancy French stuff for her.
Waiter coughs a little.
“I will ask Maurice the chef, I am sure we can accommodate you.” Waiter leaves bemused.
“What?” Sally asks Michael who is looking at her.
“Nothing.” Michael trying not to laugh.
 Small talk for ten minutes. Michael about his computer games and Sally bored, Sally about
kickboxing and Michael bored. At last, the food came. Sally cut her steak and put a piece in
her mouth. She had never tasted meat like that before. So soft like butter. I wish I had parents
like you Michael. Then she would be a regular at Maxim’s too. Hello Sally. Nice to see you
again. Sally lost in thought. Michael’s voice. Better listen.
“Last year we went skiing in Switzerland. It was so cool. We go every year.”
“It's not fair.” Sally burst out.
“What’s not fair?” Michael reacting.
“You have so much and we have so little. How can that be fair?”
“My Dad works really hard. He deserves to enjoy himself.”
“Yeah, and my Dad works really hard too. He never goes to French restaurants or skiing in
Switzerland!”
“Yeah Okay, but my Dad studied hard and took risks to start a medical practice. He didn’t
hurt anyone; he makes his money honestly.” Michael defensive.
“My Dad doesn’t hurt anyone either. Why should a doctor get more money than a
cleaner?”
“Because a doctor has to study hard and saves lives.”
“A cleaner works hard too. Imagine if no one picked up the garbage.”
“But a doctor’s job is more important. They save lives, treat injured people.”
“So, a doctor is a more valuable or a better person than a cleaner?”
“Yes.”
“Would you say that to my father’s face? Hi, you’re not worth as much as a doctor!”
“That would be rude,” Michael protesting.
“Any dessert for either of you?” Waiter polite.
Michael looked at Sally. She’s one angry person. Idealistic too, Dad would say.
“No, we’ll have dessert at home. Can I have the bill, please?”
“Certainly Michael.” Garcon obliges.
“Sally, everyone can be like my Dad. We all have the same chance to make a go of it.”
Michael parroting his Dad.
“But people who are rich are rich at someone else’s expense. Someone has to pay. A doctor
or specialist earns heaps. They are rich, but someone loses out.” Sally passionate.
“Yes, they do earn heaps. But they study really hard.” Michael replying.
“And who pays for their uni fees?” Sally continuing.
“They do. They usually take a student loan.” Michael defending.
“Right. But didn’t you know that the government pays for most of their fees? They only
pay a part of it. Taxpayers, like a cleaner, pay for the rest.” Sally indignant.
“No, I didn’t know.” Michael starting to wonder.
“And that’s not all. For the rest of their life doctors are subsidised. Every operation, every
time you see the doctor, the government pays for most of the bill.” Sally just getting warmed
up.
“But they are an essential service. No one could afford to go the doctors or have an
operation if the government didn’t help out.” Michael protesting.
“Yes, but what other profession in our society gets to dip their hands into the taxpayers’
purse. Imagine if you went to the butcher and paid ten dollars for a kilo of sausages. Then the
butcher got an extra forty dollars a kilo from the government. Fifty dollars all up.
Expensive sausages, aren’t they? Well, that’s exactly what the doctors are doing.” Sally
comparing.
“So, a cleaner and doctor should make the same wage?” Michael enjoying this talk.
“Yes. Because a cleaner and doctor are both human beings.” Sally convinced she is right.
Sally adamant.
 “Then why bother studying medicine for six years?” Michael thinking: I can win this one.
“Why bother cleaning toilets every day?” Sally responding.
The bill arrived. Michael and Sally looked at each other. Felt like adults. Felt they talked
like adults. Liked it.
Mrs Prince was five minutes early and waiting outside the restaurant. Better than punctual.
Had a good time she’ll ask. Food up to standard. Great mother-in-law she’d make. Hi, I’m
now going to control your life. Sally cringed at the idea as she left the restaurant with
Michael. They walked together to the car. A bond had been formed. Michael was a person
now, like a friend. And didn’t matter what a person was if they were a friend. Goth, emo,
gangster, geek, nerd or whatever. You just accepted them.
They both hopped in the back seat together. Mrs Prince had a tiny smirk on her face.
“Had a good time, you two?” Predictable.
“Yeah, it was great Mum. I’ve asked Sally back for dessert.” Michael sounding triumphant.
My first date, he thought.
“How nice of you to invite Sally back for dessert, but not too long. We don’t want Sally’s
mum getting unduly worried.”
Unduly! Unduly! What a word! Better than considerate. Mrs Prince was unduly
considerate. Sally wanted to unduly punch someone in the face. Sally leans her head against
the car window. Rattling relaxes her. What a comfortable world they live in.
The car arrived at their address. Turning and going down a long driveway. Really long. Car
parked in the garage. Internal access to the house. Michael led her to the “teenagers retreat”
whilst Mum prepared dessert. The retreat was as big as her whole house. State house that is.
“Hey, I want to show you something,” Michael said. “I’ve been planning to do a rap song
and load it up on to You tube. Let me know what you think.”
Michael pulled off his polar fleece and put a cap on. He tilted it to the side gangster style.
Next a couple of gold chains with medallions on the end around his neck. He stood in front of
her and started bobbing up and down.
“Glasses.” Sally encouraging. Her mind on dessert though. The things I have to do.
Michael took off his glasses and put them on the sofa. He cleared his throat ready to rap.
Sally clicks her fingers and on the third click he starts. She’s part of it. Why do all teenagers
want to start a band and all adults want to write a book?

“Now y’all listen up and I’ll tell ya what’s up

Have a listen to the geek and let him speak
I might be weak but I’m not a freak
Y’all hear me out, it won’t take a week
My worlds like your world
Yo world, yes, your world my world same world
We all like KFC and a bit of TLC
Picasso Leonardo and JLO
Rihanna and Banana
With a split, do y’all get the drift?
One, two, three toward the four.
Free style flow to the floor
Give the man a microphone.”
Sally looked up and politely held back her laughter. She said nothing. Michael slumped
down next to her and pulled off his cap.
“Out of ten?” Michael asked.
“I’d give it a one,” Sally honest.
“Anyone for dessert?” Mum popping her head in the room.
 Chapter Eleven

Hunter woke with a start. It seemed like she had been somewhere else. Another time,
another place. Her face felt strange. Memories of the other day flooded back. The shock. No
logical explanation why she was shot. Hunter rolled her legs over the side of the bench she
had been lying on. She could smell things and hear noises outside. She had to get back and
save Grandma. She had to tell others there was another world, another way of thinking. Just
then, she heard someone enter the room.
“Time to take the bandages off,” Planner approaching.
Hunter wasn’t concerned. Vanity was not part of their world. It didn’t matter to her if her
face was damaged. “Why the name Planner?” Hunter curious.
“Often we change our birth name later on in life. My name is what I do. I plan things.”
Planner put a wet heated pad over the bandages and pressed a button that let out warm steam.
The bandages peeled off easily.
“I can’t see out of this eye,” Hunter whispered. Couldn’t see because there was no eye
there. The weapon of the Level 1 had blown off the right side of her face.
“I’m sorry, it was the best we could do. In your world, they’d probably be able to replace
your face quite easily. We haven’t developed as far as you in that area.” Planner apologetic.
Hunter lifted the mirror Planner handed her. Where the right side of her face used to be
was a metal plate. It had been moulded over her face. Her right cheek, eye and ear had gone.
Another millimetre lower and Hunter would have died. The blast had only grazed her face,
but that was enough to cause so much damage. At least her nose and mouth were intact. The
plate went up as far as her hairline on the right side of her forehead. Carbine would
be real pleased, she thought wryly. I don’t care how I look! I have to get back and save
Grandma.
“Why don’t you take a look at our world? Wander around a bit.” Planner suggested.
“Okay, I’d like that. But I really have to get back as soon as I can.” Hunter determined.
“I’ll meet you here in an hour. We can talk more then.” Planner showing her to the door. He
gave her a small bag. It rattled and felt heavy. “You’ll need these. It's our money.” Planner
smiled at her.
Hunter stepped outside into the alleyway. It was virtually deserted. Planner had probably
paid for it to be quiet. The lane was narrow. It was lined on either side with two or three
storey buildings all attached. No spaces between buildings. No gardens. Above there was
light, but no sky. They were underground with some form of artificial lighting. She walked
slowly down the alleyway and emerged into a larger street. The same. Buildings lined either
side of the street. They looked as if they had been carved into the solid rock walls either side
of the street. She stepped out of the alleyway, stood still and stared. People were walking up
and down the street. There were stalls selling all kinds of fruit, vegetables and bread. It smelt
so real and fresh. She walked up to a stall selling peaches and picked up one and smelt it. She
had never smelt or seen anything like it. Natural.
“Two credits,” the vendor squawked without really looking up at Hunter.
Sally opened the bag and held out her hand with small ingots of different colours.
“The copper-coloured ones, what’s wrong with you?” Vendor impatient.
Other people stopped and started staring at Hunter. The Vendor went all quiet and was
looking at Hunter’s hands. Wrinkled hands wrapped around hers.
“You’re so beautiful, your hands so perfect.” The Vendor started stroking Hunter’s hands.
“Like a doll. How much?”
“How much for what?” Hunter surprised.
“For touching your hands, you have to pay for everything around here,” the peach vendor
explained.
 A crowd was gathering around her. A man stroked her face with the back of his hand.
Hunter felt no fear or panic. Never had and never would. Hunter started to walk down the
street. She smelt the peach again and bit into it. The sensation was so new, so pleasant. She
had never tasted anything so good. Sweet. A real sweet. What was wrong with Area 42 she
thought blissfully? For the rest of the hour, she strolled up the street, tasting and smelling a
new world. Everyone followed. Touching. Looking. Admiring. She returned to Planner’s
place up the alleyway.
“How does this place work?” Hunter asked quizzically.
“It's quite simple. When you’re born everyone gets a lump payment of credits. People are
paid to invest it and other people are paid to make sure your money is looked after. That way,
there’s no financial pressure on anyone, you can do what you like, not what you have to. The
lady you met selling the peaches loves growing things. And she’s good at it. She doesn’t need
to make money as she’s already got enough. Your world is based on genetics and order. Our
world is based on money. Everything is about money. But we make sure at the start everyone
has the same amount.” Planner proud.
“So how do you keep order?” Hunter comparing their societies.
“We pay for it, everyone is paid to be a citizen and rewarded for not misusing their
freedom.” Planner confident that there were no flaws in their society.
“And if someone gets paid and still abuses their freedom?” Hunter sceptical.
“We pay for people to deal with them.” Planner feeling secure.
“Would the Party destroy this place?” Hunter weighing up the situation.
Planner thought for a moment. “No, the Party is not so barbaric. Everyone had enough of
war. There was no belief anymore in a just war. Destroying others because they think
differently or have something you want that they have. Or a desire to control others. No, I
think the Party just wants accurate information about us and to keep us away from your
world. That’s why I don’t understand why they tried to kill you. It's so out of character for
them to kill. They only kill when absolutely necessary.”
“But why have me killed?” Hunter still shocked and repeating the question. That was
disorder.
“I don’t know,” Planner answered. “Maybe you should stay with us. You could sell your
knowledge for a high price. Your world doesn’t want you anymore.”
“No, I have a husband who I love and my grandma, I must save her. You must help me.”
Hunter pleading.
“Well, I can help, but it will cost a lot and has cost me already a lot to rescue you and have
you patched up.” Money and Planner dancing together in his mind.
Hunter had nothing on her. Then she had an idea. "Have you got a pair of pliers?” she
asked.
“Sure, going to adjust your face a little?” Planner trying to be funny. He rummaged around
a few rooms. Planner found a pair and handed them to Hunter. He was a bit curious what she
intended to do.
Hunter gripped the top of her index fingernail with the pliers and tore it out. Some blood
but no pain.
Planner looked horrified. “Why did you do that? Don’t you feel anything?”
“I have my DNA printed on this nail. You could analyse this and maybe improve the health
of your people. I’m sure the information would be worth a lot to the right people in your
city.” Hunter handing over her nail.
Planner held the nail in his finger and looked at it closely. The right people could access
the information and process it. This item could make him richer than he already was.
“I’d like to get back to my city as quick as I can.” Hunter’s emotions pushing her.
 Planner replied, but was really thinking out loud. “I’ll need time to come up with a plan.
You just can’t walk back into your city. They might shoot you and not miss this time. You’ll
also need equipment and a guide to get back to your city.” Planner feels a tinge of sorrow
about Hunter going back. Suicide mission. “Better get some rest Hunter. You’ll have to leave
in the evening.”
“Aren’t the solar winds a hazard at night?” Hunter never worked in the deserts at night.
“We were always told they were lethal at night.”
“You’ll be travelling underground for most of the journey back. There’s a short stretch of
desert from the mouth of the last cave system to your city. And the winds aren’t always
lethal. Night would be the best time to arrive at the front gate,” Planner devising. Fewer
guards, he thought. “Approaching your city at night will make them even more curious and
they might just let you in. They might wonder why you are not dead from the solar winds. On
the other hand, they might also shoot you on the spot. It’s a risk you will have to take.”
Hunter decided to get a few hours rest. She needed a clear head. Getting to the gate was one
thing, getting in and stopping the Party terminating Grandma was another. She had seen Area
42. The L5A’s wanted information. That was something in her favour. They would want her
alive. Talk to her and then get rid of her. But how to save Grandma once she was in? She still
felt relaxed, despite the situation. Anxiety wasn’t something anyone felt anymore.
Hunter lay down to get a few hours rest. Her world had expanded. Cities under and above
ground. Money. Buying things. She began to drift off. Eyes heavy. Dreaming. She was
walking in the desert in her dream. She could see someone standing on the top of a sand dune
in the distance. Grandma? Carbine?
 Chapter Twelve

“Had a good time?” Her Mum asking when she got home. Thankfully Geek’s mum didn’t
come in.
All mums were the same Sally thought. Said the same things and felt the same way.
“Didn’t tell his mother you are on probation for assault, did you?”
Thanks Mum, Sally thought. Can’t you just say something positive for once?
“Wouldn’t let her son go out with you then, would she? I hope you can see how your
actions can ruin your whole life. I hope you learn from this, young lady!”
Thanks for the advice Mum. Sally had no bark left in her. She was tired. Michael was
coming over next Saturday night for dinner. Was she actually starting to feel something for
him? Confused. At least he was prepared to come back to her place. I suppose beggars can’t
be choosers. But who was the beggar, she or he?
Sally changed. Do my teeth in the morning. She was so tired. Sally lay down on top of her
bed. Drifting off, eyes so heavy. Dreaming. Sally in another world. Sally was in a desert. She
was standing on top of a sand dune looking out over the desert. Where was she? She saw
someone in the distance walking towards her. The person got closer. It was her. Picture
perfect. The platinum hair reflected the moonlight. She was coming closer and they both just
looked at each other. Hunter climbed up the dune and stood in front of Sally.
“You’re the girl I saw in the mirror, in my dreams!” Sally speaking first. Sally felt safe
though. This was only a dream, right?
Hunter looked into Sally’s eyes. She reached out and held both Sally’s hands. I’m dreaming
too thought Hunter. How is this happening?
“Hi, I’m Hunter. You’re in my dreams too.”
“I’m Sally. What’s going on? Why or how is this happening? Where am I in my dream?”
“It's what used to be called Kentucky. A long time ago.”
“What? What year is this? Am I seeing the future or something?”
“2412.” Hunter looking at Sally and squeezing her hands gently.
Good, at least it won’t be in my lifetime. Sally couldn’t care about what happened to future
generations. All that environmental stuff. Chop it down and dig it up for all she cared. Sally
lived for the now.
“I’m from 2012.” Sally paused. “You’re so beautiful.” Sally touched Hunter’s cheek with
the back of her hand and ran it down her face. So soft. Why can’t I look like you?
They both talked for a few minutes sharing ideas about each other’s world. “Don’t tell me
you live in a world that’s run by someone called the “Chairman” and you live in a domed
city?” Sally laughing recalling all the sci-fi books she had read.
“Sorry to disappoint. We don’t think as individuals. Well, we are not supposed to. So, we
don’t have a single leader, so sorry, no Chairman. A Party of ten make the rules. They almost
think as one person. We all think as one person.
Then they shared with each other about their lives, their hopes. Sally about Michael. Hunter
about Carbine. They also spoke about their dreams. It was so weird. Neither could understand
how a connection between them had happened. Then they talked about their grandmas. It was
something they both had in common.
“Hetherington’s disease? That was cured years ago. It’s a degenerative disease of the
brain.” Hunter explaining.
“How is it cured?” Sally excited. But it's only a dream. This isn’t real.
Hunter explained how the disease worked and how it was cured using a particular cocktail
of drugs that not only halted the disease but also helped the person recover their health. She
had learnt all about it in her schooling years.
 “But how will I remember this? And even if I do, who would believe me? The doctor won’t
let me give the drugs to her without human testing?” Sally not wanting to believe the
impossible.
“If you explain to the doctors how the drugs operate, then you might convince them to give
it a try. I can run through the whole process with you and work backwards to the knowledge
of your century.” Hunter confident.
“I won’t remember even if you do explain it to me?” Sally 13% for Chemistry.
“You told me how in the last Chemistry class you could answer the teacher’s question and
your own question to the teacher as well, without knowing how, didn’t you?” Hunter
convincing.
“I suppose,” Sally uncertain.
“And what about me fighting. That was probably your kickboxing somehow getting into
my head.” Hunter piecing together the impossible.
“Wish I had your brains and your face,” Sally envious.
“It's not how you look Sally, it's what you do with your life.” Hunter wisdom.
“So, in your history books, who discovered the cure for my grandma’s disease?” Sally
hoping it was her, if in fact she was somehow dreaming into the future and all this was true.
“I think it was a Doctor Monroe,” Hunter flicking through the memorised book in her mind.
“Anyway, I’ll go through the chemistry of it with you, even if it takes ten times,” Hunter
laughing happily. She liked this Sally. Wanted to help her.
Sally and Hunter talked some more, holding hands and enjoying each other’s company.
Sally felt it was her turn to help Hunter. But what would she know? Hunter explained her
story and how she must somehow prevent her grandma’s termination.
“You told me about the peaches in Area 42. I have an idea.” Sally musing.
“Peaches?” Hunter a little confused.
“Were they irresistible?” Sally formulating a plan.
“Of course, our food is all highly processed and artificial. Necessary. But not something to
be really enjoyed. I can still smell those peaches.” Hunter savouring.
“Ever heard of Snow White?” Sally asked.
“Snow what?” Hunter perplexed.
“You know, the old fairy tale.” Sally surprised. Maybe Sally’s world wasn’t so bad after all.
Sally explained to Hunter the fairy-tale and how it could help her with her situation. They
discussed ideas. Sally original ideas creating and Hunter able to apply the ideas with her
high-level intellect. They talked for another hour and Hunter got up to leave. Together they
had come up with a plan for Hunter.
“Don’t go. I’ve never had someone like you. Someone special. Someone who everyone
would admire.” Sally beginning to cry.
Hunter held her for a few minutes. She told Sally she must go and thanked her. Sally was
downcast. Maybe they would never meet again in their dreams. Sally stood still and watched
Hunter walk off into the distance. Hunter kept walking and didn’t turn around. Couldn’t.
Hunter crying. Never felt grief before. It felt new, strange and something she didn’t really
like. Sally had saved her. Her kickboxing. Now she must save Grandma. And Sally must save
hers.
 Chapter Thirteen

Sally woke with a start in the morning. Her head felt fuzzy. She decided to bunk school and
go and see Grandma. It was 7 a.m. Mum must still be asleep. I’ll write her a note. ‘Got the
day off school.’ Lie. ‘Gone to see Grandma.’ True. Bet Mum had no coffee in the house. Get
one at the hospital. Michael had “lent” her fifty dollars. He was turning out to be handy after
all. I could get used to this pampering she thought.

Sally caught the Number 7 bus to the hospital. Her dream was so real. Could it be true? One
way to find out. She had to try for Grandma. Even if she made a fool of herself. Her stop. The
hospital. Her heart began to pound. Up in the elevator. This wasn’t real. Maybe I should go
home. Way out of my comfort zone. But it felt so real.
Sally started to feel stupid. It was only a dream. The Chemistry class questions a
coincidence. She didn’t believe in anything spiritual. When you died that was it. The lights
went out for good. No lights at the end of tunnel. No judgment. No heaven or hell. It was all
mumbo jumbo. Dumb people believed. Weak people prayed, sung silly songs and wasted
their time and money. And then there were the door knocking nuts telling you the world
would end. But this dream felt so right!
The lift doors opened on Level 6. Sally exited the elevator on to Grandma’s ward. The
doctors had started doing their rounds. They had such inflated egos. When doctors talk on
their rounds everyone else must be silent. Nurses kowtowed to them as if they were their
masters. What a rigid frigid system. And at the end of your nursing career of sleepless night
shift all you had was a broken back from lifting patients. Rather marry Michael than end up
as a nurse. Control Sally. Do this for Grandma. What did Hunter say, oh yeah, channel your
anger into something productive.
Sally sat down next to Grandma. She seemed to be out of it all the time. Like in a
permanent coma. The doctors were coming around. They stopped at the end of Grandma’s
bed and smiled at Sally. They were talking to each other in low monotone voices. A world of
their own that Sally was about to enter.
“Excuse me, can I talk to a Doctor Monroe for a minute?” Sally taking a stab at the group
of doctors. One of the doctors was new. Maybe it was him.
Silence. Confusion.
“How did you know my name? I only arrived this morning from Boston.” Doctor shocked
as well as his doctor colleagues.
An American. I hate Yanks. Their voices. So loud and annoying. On TV all they did was
cry on reality shows or blow-up bad guys in their movies. Always their take on history was
the right one. Social studies. That’s right. I remember learning about their presidents. Bush
senior and Bush junior. When they both left office, the country was broke and at war each
time! What a legacy!
“Because you’re going to cure Hetherington’s disease, that’s how I know your name.
You’ll be famous. With a little help from me of course.” Sally trying to stroke his ego and
sound confident.
“You must be joking?” Doctor irritated.
“Do you think I’m joking with my grandma lying here dying, who is the only person that
means anything to me in this world?” Control Sally. Don’t lose it or you’ll lose him. This is
your chance.
One of the doctors whispered something into his ear. Probably about her on assault
charges.
“But she knew my name, he answered back, no one else knew besides a handful of staff at
the hospital that I was coming here today from Boston.” Doctor rational and curious. Need an
explanation. “How did you know my name and that I would be here?” Monroe quizzing,
wanting to end the mystery. Everything has a reason.
“It is in the history books of the future. The dates and all. Who you first cured and when
and where.” Sally sounding confident.
“You mean in this hospital, and your grandma and on this particular date?” Monroe.
“Correct.” Sally wanting to maintain his interest.
“I don’t know how you knew I was coming, but what you are saying is crazy. I know it's
hard for you see your grandma dying, but don’t clutch at straws. We are a long way off from
curing Hetherington’s disease, and that’s if it's what your grandmother actually has.” Monroe
rationalising.
He turned around and started walking towards the next bed surrounded by the other doctors.
Sally called out to him one more time. Asked him something. He stopped and turned around
and looked at her for what seemed forever. “I think you and I had better have a long chat after
I finished this round,” Monroe, sounding deadly earnest.

A few hours later Sally and Monroe were sitting in one of the top restaurants in town. Sally
wasn’t interested in the food now. Help me, Hunter. You’ve been right so far. Even though I
still think I’m dreaming. This couldn’t be just a dream. It can’t be. Monroe’s entrée came.
Sally had asked for peanut butter sandwiches. He had asked for a prawn cocktail followed by
lobster thermidor. Good. She could talk and he could listen while he ate his entree. Her
sandwiches would come with his lobster.
“How did you know about the drug K179? I just named it last night before I got on the
plane.” Doctor in a state of utter perplexity.
“It’s the first generation of drugs that were developed before you came up with the L
series.” Sally trying to recall everything Hunter had told her.
“L series?” Monroe was even more perplexed.
Sally took out a pad from her bag and wrote down a series of chemical formulas for
Monroe. She showed them to him. He pushed his food away and Sally dragged her chair
around and they sat together talking about the equations. Main course arrived but Monroe
waved the waiter away. “Not now,” he said impatiently to the waiter not wanting to lose his
train of thought.
Sally took a prawn from his cocktail and ate it. He looked at her, serious, and then broke
into a smile. He asked for her school’s number and he had a chat to her Chemistry teacher.
Gets off the phone.
“Not exactly an “A” grade student but your teacher said that in your last class of Chemistry
you suddenly did some amazing stuff. What happened? Did the lights suddenly switch on or
something?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Could you give this drug combination to
my grandma?” Sally hoping he would say yes and Grandma would be OK.
“Sally, this is remarkable, way beyond our current knowledge. It would stop the
degeneration in theory. But its untried. It takes time and testing to get FDA approval before I
could administer it to your grandma. By then it would be too late.” Monroe feeling
frustrated.
“I do have an M series as well. You know, regeneration.” Sally baiting him.
Monroe looked at her. He suddenly looked very concerned. “Sally this isn’t a joke. Where
are you getting this from? You must have a source, and they must be exceptional if not
brilliant to come up with this.” Monroe looking even more concerned.
“You wouldn’t believe me, and don’t ask me to try you, because I can’t say. Its legal
though.” Sally on probation for assault, not exactly legal.
 “What I mean Sally is if this is someone else’s work that you have got your hands on then I
would be in big trouble if I start using this information.” Doctor being professional.
“I told you I can’t tell you, but it's my grandma’s life. Help her. If I told you where I got
this stuff from, they’d lock me up as insane.” Sally looking in his eyes earnestly.
“Better show me M.” he replies.
Sally folded back the page with the L series on it and wrote down a series of formula for the
M class drugs on the next clean page of the pad. Hunter was right. Sally had remembered and
also had to work from the simple formula to the more complex so that Monroe would
understand. He watched her writing and realised she was the source. She was not just writing
down by rote but actually understood it all. It was unbelievable.
“Sally, it would be quicker if I could formulate these drugs under my name. Not that I want
the credit for it, but the red tape and people accepting that it was your work would take
forever.” He sounded sincere. He was.
Sally: “Make a deal. You get the credit. Just save my grandma’s life.” Sally desperate.
“Okay, I’ll do it. It goes against all reason and everything I believe in, but I’ll have these
drugs put together in 48 hours and administered to your grandma. I can swing it.”
Doctors aren’t so bad, Sally thought, even American ones. They shared the lobster and he
even had a peanut butter sandwich. After they ate, he was on the phone to his Boston lab.
Sally felt so relieved. This was a dream she thought. I’ll wake up any minute and it will be all
a dream.
Four days later Sally went and saw Grandma. She had made an amazing recovery. The
doctors were dumbfounded with the experimental drug. Monroe would return to Boston and
get FDA approval and go down in history for curing Hetherington’s disease. A deal is a deal
and we can’t change the history books thought Sally.
“So, tell me about your new friend,” Grandma was asking.
Asking in a nice tone. Not a nosey Mum tone. A grandmother granddaughter tone. One of
mutual respect and genuine care. But which friend? My dream friend, doctor friend or male
friend? Sally missed Hunter. She wished she were with her all the time. I wonder how things
worked out for her? Sally held Grandma’s hand. She was too tired to answer her question.
Just relieved. Still in disbelief. Sally started to drift off to sleep but no Hunter in her dreams.
Maybe the connection was gone. Maybe it had all been in her imagination.
 Chapter Fourteen

“Snow Who? Planner gasped.

Hunter spent a few minutes explaining who Snow White was and the plan Sally and her had
devised. Planner listened carefully. The plan sounded like it would work, but so much could
go wrong.
“I’ll meet you back here in two hours.” Planner had a lot to do if he was to get Hunter back
in time to save her grandmother. Hunter leant against the edge of her bed/bench and went
over the plan in her mind. It had to work.
Planner returned a few hours later with a backpack with what Hunter needed. He was
accompanied by a short girl with red hair tied back in a ponytail. She had freckles all over her
face. Hunter just stared at her. She touched a freckle with the tip of her finger.
“Do you mind not touching me like that, I’m not a side-show animal?” the girl reacting.
“I’m sorry, I just never saw so many on one face,” Hunter justifying.
“Oh, by the way Hunter, this is Wrangler. She’s going to be your guide through the
underground caves back to your city,” Planner introducing.
“Just keep your hands to yourself,” Wrangler muttered.
“First and last time,” Hunter promised.
Planner walked with them to the opening of the first cave system that would lead them
through to a chain of underground caves that were close to Hunter’s home city. She looked at
the Planner one last time and thanked him for everything. They shook hands in a formal yet
friendly way. She had barely known him for a day.
“No need to thank me,” he said, “the information on your fingernail will make me a lot
richer. I should thank you for that.”
“Is money that important to you?” Hunter asked.
“It is for me,” Wrangler interrupting. “I’m being paid quite a lot to get you back in one
piece.”
“That’s just the way we are, Hunter. Everything we do, think or say always involves
money,” Planner replying. “We measure everything by money; cost and profit.”
“Thanks. I may not see you again.” Hunter wanting to go. Five days were left until
Grandma was terminated and they had a long, slow journey ahead.
“All the best. I’m sure you’ll succeed.” Planner’s last words Hunter would ever hear.
Wrangler and Hunter climbed up the cliff face and stood at the mouth of the passageway.
She paused and looked back over the underground city. A world built on money. Freedom
too. Maybe she could take a bit of the freedom part back to her world. But not the money
part! What a strange way of thinking?
Wrangler had already advanced up the passageway a hundred metres. She was quick on her
feet. She had a long coil of rope wrapped around her shoulder. Metal pegs jingled on her
waist. Hunter kept up easily though. Her body was virtual genetic perfection. After many
hours Wrangler paused by a metal box. There were many of these supply stops in the caves.
She was puffing a little. She opened the box and took out a bottle of water and changed the
batteries in their lights. She took a big swig of the water and offered it to Hunter. “You’re not
even sweating, what are you, a machine?” Wrangler admiring yet not.
“Not a machine. It's just the way we are put together.” Hunter not upset at all.
“So, freckles and red hair just don’t happen in your world?” Wrangler comparing.
“Red hair without the freckles.” Hunter recalling just a handful of people with red hair in
her city.
“Guess I could charge a credit per person to touch my freckles then?” Wrangler
calculating.
 “Sorry, no credits in our city. Everything is for free. Your house, transport, your food and
healthcare.” Hunter still not getting where Wrangler is coming from. All this fixation with
money.

They continued on for about twelve hours. They crossed great chasms over man-made
bridges and through giant caves filled with enormous crystals that glistened in their
torchlights fixed to their chests and backs. It was a world of wonders that Hunter would have
loved to stop and admire. But her mind was fixed on getting back.
“How much longer do we have to go?” Hunter still not sweating.
Wrangler paused to get her breath. “Probably about another twenty hours if we hurry.”
Wrangler now convinced Hunter was a machine. Metal plate on her face didn’t help.
They continued along the subterranean passages for a few more hours. Wrangler decided
they would need to rest for a few hours even if “machine” could keep going. Wrangler put the
coil of rope down on a ledge they had paused on. She lay down on top of it. Hunter lay down
next to her for warmth. They were both soon asleep covered by a thin metallic space blanket.
The next stretch of caves would be the most challenging. The path ran along a deep chasm
and it was hardly used at all. In places it was in a state of disrepair. Wrangler knew the paths
well, but it was risky. They slept only for a few hours.

Wrangler felt someone shaking her arm. “Wake up, it's time we got going.” Hunter had
been awake already for ten minutes.
“Huh, I just lay down.” Wrangler’s eyes felt so heavy. Her legs were so sore.
“This is day four. We have to keep going. But if you want, we can take a few more short
breaks. How much longer until we get to the opening to the surface?” Hunter calculating.
“About fifteen hours.” Wrangler was quite anxious about the last stretch. It was short but
treacherous.
They moved along the path, which was now only a narrow ledge with Wrangler in the lead.
She could hardly get over how Hunter didn’t even flinch when they crossed narrow bridges
across gaping chasms. She seemed to have no fear. A machine when it came to fear. Still, she
seemed really caring. It was like all the bad things about people had been removed.
They came to a cliff face with a very narrow ledge to walk on. You had to walk along the
ledge hugging the cliff face and holding onto whatever handholds you could find. The ledge
then broadened out wider just around the corner and wide enough to walk on normally. This
was the bit Wrangler hated. “I’ve only done this twice before. Hate it. Cost Planner quite a lot
for me to agree to do it.” Wrangler began to inch her way across.
“What about a safety rope? I could peg it into the wall on this side and attach it to you. Just
in case.” Hunter suggesting.
“Okay, the ledge is a bit narrow and a lot looser than last time when I did it.” Wrangler
inching her way back toward Hunter. She drove a peg deep into the wall and attached the
rope to the “D” ring hanging from the peg. Then she attached the rope to a “D” ring that was
on her belt. Just in case she thought. Wrangler went ahead and shuffled along the narrow
edge her chest hard against the cliff face. Her heart was thumping the whole way. She had got
a third of the way across when the ledge beneath her gave way.
“Hunter help me!” she screamed in a voice of terror.
Down she fell until the safety rope jerked her to a stop. She was dangling in the air attached
to the rope just below Hunter. She grabbed the rope with both hands and pulled. It was
secure. The peg in the cliff face had held. Below her the black chasm wanted to swallow her
up.
“Hold still, I’ll pull you up,” Hunter calling.
“Hurry, I keep thinking that rope will snap any minute,” Wrangler panic.
 Hunter finally dragged Wrangler back up the cliff to the edge of the ledge. She then
grabbed both her arms and pulled her back up. Wrangler grabbed hold of Hunter and held
her. She started sobbing. Hunter held her tightly and reassuringly.
“I can’t do it. I can’t go further. I’ve lost my nerve.” Wrangler badly shaken.
“We’ll rest here a bit, then we’ll go on. You can do it. You have to do it. We can make it.”
Hunter calm.
“I’m okay, just give me half an hour, it's never happened before. I’ll get over it.” Wrangler
wiping her face, starting to feel embarrassed.

Later, they both shone their lights ahead of them. The ledge had collapsed for about forty
feet. They would have to find another route. That would delay them for about two days.
Hunter stared up at the ceiling of the cave. There were giant stalactites hanging from the roof.
Wrangler looked at Hunter with horror. “You can’t be serious; I’m not going stalactite
hopping after what I’ve just been through.” Wrangler in shock.
“How much do you weigh?” Hunter concentrating.
“Ha ha very funny. Think I’m fat or something?” Wrangler annoyed.
Hunter was looking at the stalactite. It was about four feet in circumference at the pointy
end. That would hold about ninety kilograms. Hunter was fifty.
“Okay, but I’m lighter than you I bet. I’m about forty kgs.” Wrangler confessed.
“It should hold.” Hunter calculating.
Hunter climbed up the cliff a little, just above where the ledge had broken. She then leapt
spread eagled toward the stalactite that was hanging above the collapsed ledge. Her legs and
arms wrapped around the stalactite firmly and she gripped it with all her strength. Slowly
edging her way downward, she got to the point where she could wrap her legs tightly around
it. Hunter then leant back so she was dangling upside down with her arms hanging and her
legs still gripped around the stalactite. Wrangler stood there with her mouth open.
“No way, I’m not doing any trapeze tricks and jumping across and grabbing your hands.”
Wrangler horrified.
“Wrangler, I can’t do this alone. I’ll be stuck here if you don’t jump and grab my hands.
You need to get to the other side and secure a rope. Then throw me the rope. Climb up the
cliff face to where I tell you. Then jump towards me and I’ll grab your hands. I can then
swing you across to the other side of the ledge.”
Wrangler climbed up until she heard Hunter calling out to stop. She had to push off the cliff
and out towards Hunter’s hands. This was a nightmare. Hunter assuring her. Eyes on Hunter.
One two three. Wrangler leaping towards Hunter. She felt two strong hands grip hers. The
momentum created by her jump kept her swinging and Hunter added extra swing. Wrangler
swung back and forth three- or four-times holding Hunter’s hands when she heard a voice
shout ‘Let go.’ Wrangler sailed across the gap in the ledge onto the other side and landed flat
on her back on the other side. She had made it. She felt winded though and had to lie there for
a few minutes to get her breath. She couldn’t believe Hunter had made her do that!
“Throw me the rope and peg it on your side.” Hunter still dangling upside down from the
stalactite above the gap in the ledge.
Wrangler hammered a peg into the wall. She attached a rope to it and threw the other end to
Hunter. Hunter took a good grip of the rope, released her grip on the stalactite with her legs
and swung safely towards Wrangler. Hunter landed against the cliff face just below
Wrangler. She climbed up the cliff face below Wrangler and jumped onto the pathway.
Wrangler and Hunter looked each other.
“Don’t you ever dare do that to me again!” Wrangler grabbing her torchlight firmly. She
struck Hunter in the face with it as hard as she could. Hunter fell back against the cliff from
the force of the blow. Blood streamed down from her nose, lips and cheek. There was a deep
cut in her cheek. She didn’t feel any pain though. Never any pain. “Knew you were a
machine. No feeling. Not in your body and not in your heart. You could have killed me.”
Hunter and Wrangler continued up the pathway in silence. So that’s what anger did to
people, Hunter thought. No wonder they had suppressed it in their DNA. She began to
appreciate where the Party was coming from. But Hunter had had no choice. She had to save
her grandma. She had to take risks, even with other people’s lives. They had lost a lot of time.
Grandma only had three days to go.
 Chapter Fifteen

Sally slept in for hours. No banging on the door. No more tests at school. No school bus.
She was free at last. The wonderful feeling of not having to get up and go to school or go to
work thrilled her. It was so liberating. She felt so free.
Time to get up and get Grandma breakfast. It was a pleasure to do so. Sally had left home
and shared a modern unit with Grandma. Mum missed her, but to be honest, she didn’t miss
her at all. What a nag she had been.
“Here’s your breakfast Gran”. Sally putting a tray on her bedside table.
“Mm, smells good. You’re spoiling me. I should be making you something.” Grandma
enjoying the company of Sally.
Doctor Monroe had got so many awards for his medical discoveries. He had not forgotten
Sally. Any cash grants he sent to her. Sally also got a share of the profits of the new drugs,
which were a breakthrough in medicine. She had bought this new unit and Grandma and her
had moved in. She had bought a two-bedroom unit on purpose, even though she could afford
a bigger place. Two’s company Mum, three’s a crowd.
“So, when do you start your new business?” Grandma as excited as Sally.
“Well, I start next week. Just small to begin with. I have to do a lot of study too. But the
money I got from Doc will get me the best tutors and colleges in the country.”
“But why glasshouses?” Grandma a little confused.
“Start with something small, then get bigger. Who knows, maybe one day they will be
living in glasshouse cities?” Sally remembering what Hunter had told her about her city. I
want to help the future generations. After all, Hunter had helped her.
“When was the last time you saw Doctor Monroe?” Grandma asked.
“He hardly ever comes now. Just the odd email or “Like” on my Facebook. He’s too busy,
and besides, I can’t remember any of the chemical formulas that were in my dreams. I guess I
just remembered what I had to, to help you,” Sally having confided in Grandma about her
dreams.
“Well, if you ever see that girl in your dreams again, tell her I owe her my life, even though
I can hardly believe how this all happened,” Grandma replied. Gratitude.
Sally hugged Grandma and left for her workshop. It was just around the corner and if
Grandma ever needed her, she could get to her in a minute. She loved her work and was
experimenting with different designs and types of glass for her greenhouses. Testing. Seeing
what you could grow, how to maintain constant temperature and oxygen levels.
Hunter, I miss you. You never come in my dreams anymore. Be strong Sally. For you and
Grandma.
 Chapter Sixteen

After walking for a number of hours in silence, Wrangler and Hunter stopped to get some
water. They were only a few hours from the cave opening and from there a few hours walk in
open desert to her city. They had to time it perfectly. Hunter had only a small window when
there was a lull in the solar storms at night. The city would not be so heavily guarded either,
which increased her chances of not getting shot by a trigger-happy Level 1.
Wrangler put some water on a cloth and came up to Hunter and wiped her face with it. “I’m
sorry I hit you. You just scared the life out of me back there. You saw how upset I was when
I almost fell to my death and then you get me to jump into that chasm and grab your hands
without a safety rope.” Wrangler calmed down.
“I know and I’m sorry. I had no choice. We had to get across the chasm.” Hunter
apologetic.
Wrangler put her arms around Hunter and hugged her firmly. “I’m sorry I called you an
unfeeling machine. You’re really brave. But weren’t you scared, even a little bit when you
jumped off the ledge and grabbed the stalactite?” Wrangler asked.
“I don’t feel fear, anger, anxiety, grief or pain. Just the positive emotions. I made all the
calculations and then just jumped. No what ifs! But I’m sorry. I keep forgetting that you’re
not like me.” Hunter hugged her back.
They walked the rest of the way holding hands. Wrangler knew she would never see
Hunter again. She just hoped that Hunter could save her grandmother and get back to her
husband. Hunter held onto Wrangler’s hand tightly. It felt comforting. She didn’t know if she
would survive the last stretch to her city. And what then? Would the Party listen? They
arrived at the cave opening. A long hug. Wrangler tearful.
“You’ve got two hours. You’ll have to run to make it. Nice knowing you, Hunter. Maybe we
might meet again.” Wrangler started to move away to get back home. She had to avoid
detection by Hunter’s people. Tears streamed down her face. “Come back one day to Area
42.” Wrangler full of grief.
“I will if I make it.” Hunter replied. She didn’t like grief.
“Pinkie promise?” Wrangler asked.
Hunter and Wrangler gripped pinkies and then touched thumbs. What strange customs Area
42 have. “Thanks for everything. I couldn’t have got this far without you. I owe you more
than what Planner paid you. You’d better go. Better they think I’m alone than they pick you
up on a scan and send a party after you at daybreak.” Hunter already missing Wrangler.
Hunter waited ten minutes for Wrangler to get deeper underground. That would reduce the
chance of her detection. She turned and exited the cave into the desert. The wind was down.
Amazing. She wasn’t dead. Everyone just accepted that at night the solar winds were deadly.
The Party didn’t allow any scientists to study their patterns. I guess it was just another way of
controlling people. No one would leave the city, as they would be scared that at night, they
would die unprotected. The Party kept people in the dark. It was time to get into the city. This
would prove the hardest part. She took a deep breath.
Hunter started running at a fast sprint towards the city. She knew the Level 1s had strict
orders. Shoot to kill anything day or night outside the city walls. They would be picking up
her movements soon on their scanners. There was a flash from the city wall. Distance was on
her side. The shot missed. Sand melting behind her from the laser’s heat. They were
recalibrating their aim. She kept running hard out for the next five minutes. The city was
getting bigger. Another flash. She leant to her left. The beam grazed her shoulder knocking
her down, melting her clothing, flesh and bone. No pain, but she knew her body was injured.
She lay there for a few minutes. There were no more flashes from the city. She did not have
long before the winds picked up and she would be dead. All for nothing. But she couldn’t get
up. Her injury was too severe. She just lay there and stared up at the stars and auroras in the
night sky. So beautiful. Get up and run. You have to. She felt her strength returning.
“Contact L5A,” one of the Level 1s yelling out.
“What did you hit?” another asking.
“Don’t know, it's not moving. Enlarge the scanner.” Level 1 relaying information to the
Party members. A minute later came back the response.
“Hold your fire,” one of the Level 1s called out. “Party’s order.”
Hunter got up and staggered forward. She had over forty minutes to cover the rest of the
distance. She mustered up all her strength and ran. They had stopped shooting. Her plan was
working. So far so good. She eventually reached the gantry entrance in the wall twenty feet
above her. A side door opened and a cable dropped down at her feet. She fastened it around
her waist and gave it a tug. She was winched up. Now she would have to put on a really good
act to convince the Party.
“Help me, my shoulder,” Hunter talking to a Level 1 in a decontamination suit.
“We have to check you first for contaminants. Pass me your backpack. We have to run you
and everything through the scanners. I’m sorry Hunter. We didn’t know it was you. We have
our orders to shoot to kill anything or anybody outside the walls.” Level 1 unquestioning
obedience.
Once she was cleared a medical team treated her shoulder burns. They looked with horror
at her face. They would attend to that later. The L5A had asked for her to be immediately
escorted to the Party’s office. They gave her a shot of adrenalin. She felt her energy
returning.
They boarded an air train in silence. The two Level 1s escorting her remained quiet and
calm. City centre. Home. They left the train and approached the main building. Enter. Double
doors open and the L5A sitting at a desk. There was only one Party member present. It was
the woman in her dream at Grandma’s house. The L5A she had hit on the chin.
“Leave us alone,” The woman dismissing the guards. They both waited outside the doors
that swished shut behind them.
Put her at ease Hunter. Remember what Sally told you. Snow White. “I’m so relieved to see
you,” Hunter lying.
Surprise. “Hunter, you don’t look so good. What happened?” The L5A confused why
Hunter was so calm.
“I can’t remember anything up until I woke up in Area 42,” Hunter sounding excited.
The L5A took the bait. Amnesia? Didn’t she remember the Level 1 shooting her? Level 5s
couldn’t lie. The woman shocked to hear about Area 42. What did she find?
“You won’t believe it L5A. There’s another city there underground. Other people. Not just
the handful of surface cities around the globe like ours.” Hunter sounding excited.
L5A relieved that Hunter couldn’t remember. Maybe she has forgotten and I can fix this
mess. Area 42! Other people!
Hunter and the woman talked for about an hour whilst Hunter recalled everything she had
seen smelled and tasted. Level 5A was very interested in Planner. She wanted to know
everything about him. It seemed like she already knew about him. Hunter hadn’t asked about
her grandmother. Maybe Hunter had come right the L5A thought. Accepted their Order once
again like before and come to terms with her grandmother’s termination. She was a Level 5
after all.
L5A eyed her backpack. She could make out the shape of a box and was curious.
“Hunter, what did you bring back in your backpack?” Voice inflected.
“L5A, I’ve saved the best to last.” Hunter sounded excited. She pulled out a metal box and
opened it. There was a hiss of compressed air escaping. She turned the box around to face the
woman. Inside the box nestled in a moulded tray to keep them safe were two peaches side by
side. Sayano smelt the aroma. It was pure bliss. Hunter picked one up and bit into it. The
juices squirted out over her chin and that increased their smell.
“Go on, try one. They’re so sweet. Try mine if you like.” Hunter offered her peach to the
L5A.
Sayano took a bite and leant back in her chair. The taste was out of this world. Sweet.
Flavour. Fresh. She took another bite and chewed slowly savouring the flesh of the fruit. Real
fruit. What have we been missing she thought?
“Nice, isn’t it? And that’s not just all. They produce all kinds of food and breads.” Hunter
speaking quickly. She sounded a little too excited.
“Hunter, this is amazing. Do you think you can remember how to …”? The L5A pauses.
Throat tightening. Eyes beginning to blur. She was about to call the Level 1s on the intercom
but her throat tightened further. Droplets of sweat began to form on her forehead.
Wheezing.
“Now my dear Party member, listen to me. Hunter grabbing the woman by the throat
firmly. “You have the power to make laws and break laws. You know what I want. I want my
grandmother’s life. Cancel the order for her termination!” Hunter’s eye staring.
“I can’t,” the woman barely a hiss.
“You have five minutes before you die. Planner laced that part of the peach which you ate
with a deadly poison. I have the antidote in a capsule in one of my teeth. Save my grandma
and I save your life,” Hunter speaking with deadly earnest.
“I can’t. Order, no disorder.” Sayano’s eyes starting to go bloodshot.
“You tried to kill me! You have three minutes left.” Hunter fury inside and desperation. Her
plan had to work. “Give the order or no antidote and you die. I know you have the authority
to do it.”
“No, she hissed out, look …” L5A pointing to the large screen on the wall. Gasping she
pressed a couple of keys on her desktop and the picture flickered a little. There was Hunter in
her grandmother’s house the last time she had visited her. It was a recording of her last visit.
Hunter was asleep in the chair. Sayano and Grandma were standing over her. Hunter couldn’t
believe her eye. The L5A had been there that day. It wasn’t a dream. The audio on the
recording came on.
“How much did you put in her drink?” The Party member asking Grandma.
“Exactly the amount you told me. She hasn’t stirred for about two minutes.”
Grandma. Traitor!
Hunter felt the room spinning. Grandma had betrayed her. The feeling was awful. She had
been her grandma’s favourite. They loved each other. She had grown up with Grandma as her
little child. Trusting. Now her whole world had caved in. Who could she ever trust again? If
not your own Grandma, then who? The recording on the screen continued its painful play.
“Good. We’ll insert the surveillance chip into her ear.” Sayano pushed aside Hunter’s
platinum hair around her ear.
A Level 1 came up and inserted the chip. Hunter saw that she stirred a little on the chair.
“Are you sure you put in the right amount?” The female Party member looking at Traitor.
Hunter: eyes fluttering. Starting to wake up.
“She’ll wake up in a minute. You have to convince her she was dreaming and had fallen
asleep.” The L5A ordered Grandma.
“Anything for the Party,” Grandma loyal.
The female Party member thanked Grandma and left the room. Grandma started shaking
Hunter’s arm telling her to wake up. She had gone along with the Party all along.
The screen flickered again and there was Carbine in their bedroom. It was a new recording.
“No, no it can’t be, not you too Carbine.” Hunter gave out a deep groan like a wounded
animal. Even her own husband had schemed against her. Carbine was on the screen talking to
the Party. They were discussing Hunter going to Area 42. They were only going to stun her
for a few hours and hopefully she’d get picked up by people from Area 42. The Party
explaining to Carbine. The chip in her ear would transmit every type of communication back
to the Party from Area 42.
“We’ll only stun her,” the Party repeating and reassuring Carbine.
“Anything for the Party,” Carbine totally loyal.
Hunter felt totally betrayed. Why had she risked so much to save her grandma? It was
Grandma who had betrayed her. Her favourite drink laced to knock her out.
“Help me,” gasped Sayano.
Suddenly it dawned on Hunter that she was killing someone who had never meant to kill
her. When she had hit the Level 1, his hand must have shifted the weapon from stun to kill. It
had been an accident. They had used her, but not meant to kill her. Now she was going to kill
one of the L5A Party members. The thought repulsed her. Hunter was the wicked witch, not
Snow White.
“L5A, hold on, I’ve got the antidote in a capsule in my tooth.” Hunter knocked out the false
tooth with the palm of her hand and picked it up with her thumb and index finger. She opened
it up expecting the capsule to drop out. It was empty. There was no antidote. Hunter felt
anger. The Party had used her to spy on Area 42. Grandma and Carbine had betrayed her.
And now Planner had used her to kill one of the Party members. But why? She was
everyone’s pawn!

The female Party member had turned purple. The two Level 1s rushed in. They saw what
was happening and aimed their weapons at Hunter. Sayano raised her hand with a special
hand signal. ‘Stun only.’ The Level 1s set their guns to stun and fired. Hunter dropped to the
ground next to the Party member. She’s suffered enough, Sayano thought.
Sayano lay back and stared at the ceiling. She was 70. She had wanted to live her full years.
Now she felt. Felt regret. But intellectual regret. I don’t want to die. Eyes shut. Blackness.
She heard a rustling sound around her, a very heavy grogginess enveloping her and then her
feet went ice cold. The freezing sensation spread up her legs and upper body to her head and
then she felt herself rising out of her body and floating towards the ceiling lights. She felt so
light. Panic. Fear! I am not in my body. What if someone else takes my body or I can’t get
back into it. I want to be in my body. She sensed a strong force pulling her back downwards
into her body. Thud. Felt the heaviness of being back in her body, but a feeling of safety.
Eyes opened. Did I just die?
The tension in her throat began to ease. The dizziness stopped. She began to breathe easier.
Her pulse dropped. L5A sat back up at her desk. Five minutes had passed and she had
recovered and was not dead. Clever. Sayano had learnt a number of lessons.
First, the Party wasn’t safe. Planner could get to them if he wanted to.
Second, Planner had not put enough poison in the peach to kill her, but it came close, she was
at Death’s door. There was also no antidote. If Planner had wanted to, he could have killed
her. That meant Planner hadn’t meant to kill her, only warn her and the Party. Planner had
sent a message to them and a very clear one at that. Area 42 do not kill people, even though
they can. Power. Power with boundaries. Power that respects life.
Third: Planner had showed her that even a Level 5A didn’t want to die. Separation from the
body was not natural. Life was precious. So valuable that even Hunter had risked her all for
her grandmother, to save her life. Maybe no one had the right to terminate people’s lives.
Hunter had shown her that. Taught her. Order needed to be changed. New Order. An Order
that respected life above everything else. Preserve not terminate. Solution needed. Solution
with Order.
 Chapter Seventeen

Hunter woke up and stretched a bit. Carbine was breathing quietly beside her. She felt
secure, safe. Excited. The Party had granted both Carbine and her the chance to go to the
Mars colony for a two-year stretch or maybe longer. It was a privilege granted only to a few.
It was a chance to get away to a whole new environment. Everything was different there.
“I’m just going to take a shower,” she whispered in Carbine’s ear. Her face felt a bit tender
still. After the chopper accident, she had spent 3 weeks in medical. Her face had been
disfigured, her shoulder burnt and even her index fingernail torn out. But after surgery she
looked just as good as before. Gratitude. Long ago such things were not possible.
The Party had erased her memories of Area 42 and everything associated with it. They had
substituted her memories with new ones. The Chopper accident was a reasonable story to
explain her injuries and memory loss.

The discovery of Area 42 would bring new changes. But it had to be controlled and
contained. Controlled. Order. A new Order: “When you get to the mouth of the cave, place
the communication pole at its entrance.” The Party was setting up a communication link with
Planner. They had sent out a detail of Level 1’s to set it up. Communication would be
restricted. Controlled. Only between the Party and Planner. Mutual interest. Mutual respect.
Money for one, order and control maintained for the other.
Hunter took the air train to her grandma’s house. She was going to say goodbye to her one
last time before she went to Mars. She loved her so much. And Carbine. She could hardly
wait to go. All that exploration. Finally, she arrived at her stop. A five-minute stroll and she
was there.
“Come in.” Grandma with a high-pitched voice.
“How’s my favourite Grandma,” Hunter hugging Grandma tightly.
“So, when do you depart for the Big Red,” Grandma’s just as excited.
“Next week, Carbine and I are so excited.” Hunter beaming. Privilege. Level 5.
They spent the next few hours chatting about the past and the future. Grandma’s memory of
what had happened to Hunter had been erased as well.
“So, the Party said that everyone over 120 would be going over to Area 42. No more
terminations. It was all “paid for”. How silly to pay for things! A new place. But we are not
allowed visitors. We are a separate community. No contact with this city anymore, I’m afraid.
So, I am on an adventure too.” Grandma excited.
“Grandma, you don’t think you’ve got a social obligation to be terminated?” Hunter debating
in her mind the pros and cons of Area 42 for the elderly.
“No, this is by far a better option.” Grandma relieved. She might live for another twenty
years.
“Is this it?” Hunter asking without grief.
“Maybe in a few years, the Party said we might be able to send a short message to our loved
ones,” Grandma replied.
“Our Party knows best. One more hug before I go. Love you Grandma.”
“Love you too.”
Hunter got up and walked back to the air train. So, all of them were going somewhere
exciting. Area 42. She had never seen the rest of her scans after the chopper accident. They
were confidential now. Mars. Carbine and her could hardly wait.
 Chapter Eighteen

Sally lay down for a few hours. Tomorrow was a big day. It was the 2020 trade fair in Hong
Kong. She was exhibiting her self-contained glasshouses. Energy efficient and
environmentally friendly. Recycling of everything. A few problems, but she would sort them
out. Drifting off. Excitement. Sleep, eyes so heavy.
Sally opened her eyes. She looked at the wall opposite. A lady was sitting in the chair. It was
her.
“I haven’t seen you for so long,” Sally protesting.
“I know. Its been a long time for me too.”
The woman got up and moved over to Sally’s bedside. Sally moved over and the lady lay
down next to Sally. They both looked up at the ceiling and held hands.
“I really missed you,” Sally eyes watering.
“I missed you too.”
“You look a lot older.” Sally surprised.
“I’m 120 today.”
“120? Must be some sort of time distortion in our dreams. Will that mean you will be
terminated?” Sally upset.
“No, that’s all changed now. I’m going to Area 42.”
“So, our plan worked. You saved your grandma.” Sally relieved.
“Plan? I can’t remember anything Sally. I was in a chopper crash and unconscious for 3
weeks. The medicals had to patch me back together again”
“I don’t understand. You saved my grandma. She lived another six happy years because of
you. What about our plan? You know, Snow White? You had to save your grandmother from
the Party.”
“I remember your grandma and explaining all those chemical equations over and over again
to you. And I remember the Snow-White fairy tale, but I don’t remember anything else. All I
remember is the chopper accident I was in. And that but vaguely!”
Sally was confused. It seemed like Hunter had lost parts of her memory. She wouldn’t push
it. She was just glad Hunter had come back after so many years.
“So why now? Why do you come back now, after all this time?” Sally feeling hurt.
“We can’t control these dream meetings. But it must be important. Are you going to the
trade fair tomorrow?”
“Of course. I suppose you read about it in a history book. I’m having trouble with the design.
It’s the glass. It lets the heat in but the house gets too hot and I have to release the heat by
opening vents. I don’t want to do that. I want the house to be sealed. The solution is in getting
the right type of glass. Any suggestions?” Sally hoping.
“You know Sally, your work is very important for us in the future. Your success will one day
guarantee our survival.”
“Really?” Sally shocked.
“Remember what I said. Its not how you look, but what you do that matters in life. Got a
piece of paper and pen?” Hunter trying to remember her physics and how to explain it all to
Sally.
Sally and Hunter spent the next few hours perfecting the design of her glasshouses. After they
had finished, they talked about Michael and Carbine. The geek had blossomed and headed a
multi-million-dollar company called Macrosoft. It was a non-profit company. But both Sally
and Michael were too busy to think of marriage. Career came first. No regrets.
“Promise you’ll stay for a while.” Sally held Hunter’s hand tightly.
“I’ll probably come back more often. At my age you tend to sleep a lot more.” Hunter
chuckling.
They lay on the bed talking a bit more and mid-sentence Sally woke up. The alarm. She was
lying on her bed alone. She got up and quickly wrote down everything Hunter had told her.
The engineers will have fun with this, she thought. But despite Sally’s excitement, she felt a
lump in her throat. She missed Hunter already.
 Conclusion

Hunter prepared her things carefully. She would not be coming back. Carbine had left a
month before her to prepare their home in Area 42. Usually, a person turning 120 would
spend a week with their families saying their goodbyes. Hunter hadn’t bothered. Grandma
and her mother had passed away. She had no kids. Too busy. No regrets. But sometimes she
wondered why? Why do we live and die? Maybe she could talk it over with Carbine and the
rest of the retirees in her new home. The Chopper was waiting for her. Everyone over 120 left
the surface city for Area 42. It meant her own city could survive. Sustainable. No
overcrowding and using up scarce resources. Area 42 got paid. With technology and the
expertise of the retirees. It was a win-win for all concerned.

“Is that all you’re taking?” The Level 1 was at the front door waiting.
“I don’t need much. Spent most of my time on Mars,” Hunter closing the front door.
“Mars!” The Level 1 would want to hear all about it from here to Area 42. They walked
together Hunter talking all the way and boarded the chopper.

The journey took a couple of hours across the desert. Hunter peered through the window of
the chopper and could see the small building in the distance. Inside the building was an
elevator shaft that took them below the surface to the underground city. Another chapter in
her life. Still, she felt gratitude. She had a job lined up. Mapping. All the underground cave
systems. Carbine too. He would help maintain the new Geo-thermal system for electricity.
The chopper landed and dropped her off. She entered the small building and walked up to the
elevator.

The doors of the elevator slid open. This was it. No more contact with her city ever again.
Control. The new Party wanted to protect their way of life. Quarantine any new ideas that
might upset the Party’s way of doing things. But that was right. The Party was for the people.
It was best. Descending. Stop. The elevator doors opened and she stepped out into the city. A
few people were waiting.
“Can I carry your bag? Only one credit per kilometre.” An old lady held out her hand.
“Its okay, I can manage.” Hunter had heard about Area 42’s love of money.
She walked down the street and entered what looked like to be a market place. She could
smell fresh breads just baked. There were fruits and all kinds of fish as well. I’m going to like
it here she thought. She stopped at a peach stall. The old lady behind the counter stopped
stacking the peaches and was staring at her.
“I remember you,” she said. She looked about eighty-five.
“First-timer, sorry, must be somebody else you are thinking of,” Hunter smelling a peach.”
“No, I remember you. You were here at my grandma’s stall. I was standing behind the
counter with her. I was less than ten years old. But I never forgot you. You had a plate over
your face. And, and a finger nail missing from your index finger.” The old lady positive.
“And was my shoulder badly burnt?” Two out of three injuries, not bad, Hunter thought.
“No. Your shoulder was fine.” The old lady uncertain now.
“See, it must have been someone else. I injured my face, lost a fingernail, but also had
shoulder burns. But it was from a chopper crash. So, it must have been someone else. And
I’ve spent most of my time on Mars. Just got back half a year ago.”
“Oh, Mars! Tell me all about it. How much will that cost me?” Change of subject distracted
the old lady.
“Free!” Hunter chuckled to herself. This will take getting used to. Pay for things!
Hunter spent the next half-hour telling her wide-eyed audience all about Mars. They couldn’t
believe her stories. However, when she finished, she refused any payment. But she couldn’t
refuse the two peaches the lady offered her. They smelled so good. She would share it with
Carbine when she saw him. Hunter started heading towards the part of the city where their
house was. She had been given directions before she arrived. Carbine would be waiting.
“Hey lady, you’re new around here, aren’t you? A little girl walking next to her.
“Yes I am. What can I buy from you?” Hunter smiling.
“Bet you haven’t touched so many freckles before?” The little girl was right. No freckles in
Hunter’s city. She had the reddest hair too.
“How much?” Hunter laughing.
“One credit!”
“I only have these peaches.”
“I can take an IOU from you. Pay me later when you get your first payment.” Business-wise
already!
“Okay. Wow. Your freckles feel so soft. I’m Hunter. What’s your name?”
“Wrangler. It was my great-grandma’s name.”
“Okay Wrangler. I owe you a credit.”
The little girl skipped away. Wrangler wouldn’t forget. Every newcomer from the surface
city always said yes to touching her freckles. Maybe she should charge two credits from
tomorrow. Wrangler wasn’t worried about payment either. The new lady had made a pinkie
promise to pay her. After all, pinkie promises are always kept.