[Day 256] Eugenia part 11

Read part 10 here!

Four years later.

When you’re living on the fringe of society, with near weekly run-ins with police officers and other members of regular civilization, time ceases to mean much. But I tried to keep my life somewhat structured with the form of normal life, because that was the only way I could stay sane. If I ever wanted to rejoin the society that currently rejected me, I wouldn’t want to be used to sleeping during the day.

I got thinking about time because my stolen calendar informed me that it was my birthday. I was nineteen years old.

Four years had passed since Gruber died in my arms, and I had to admit; it seemed that long. Without regular conversation, the days were long and lonely. Occasionally, when it was cold enough, I wore long sleeves and went into town, almost always successfully blending in. The long sleeves were necessary, because in the past couple years, they had been initiating big changes in order to “protect” their citizens. At thirteen, after passing the test, every person was required to get a tattoo of an outlined circle on the underside of their forearm. It was only three inches in diameter, but it was very much noticeable.

When the policy was announced, I was excited. Only a permanent marker stood between me and the society I missed. Unfortunately, it wasn’t long before they added some details to the plan that dashed all my expectations. There would be intricate sections of color within the outline, so the circle reflected the colors of rainbow.

As much as I tried, my hand was never steady enough to change the colors of my thin tipped markers in a straight, unbroken line, like the tattoos needed. There was no way my sloppy attempts would be taken seriously; I would be arrested on the spot.

None of the new initiatives were enough to stop me from continuing my education, however. A college, the Alexander Hamilton University of Enlightenment, was only about two miles from my “home”, and it was surrounded by thick foliage. I would often climb into and hide amongst the trees outside classroom windows and listen in on lectures. It wasn’t very consistent, as my mobility was limited and sporadic, but it was better than nothing. Sometimes, I would sneak into the classrooms after the classes were finished and borrow the textbooks, pouring over them on my own time.

My favorite class by far, after the creative writing class that met only once a week, was Political Theory, which I had only just started listening in on that year. The class explored our pre and post eugenic world from the political perspective, and although the teacher was obviously practicing political socialization (when students are taught to love their government), the information was fascinating.

With the textbook I’d taken in my lap, I was following along during a discussion one day when a boy across the classroom raised his hand to speak. The entire class quieted, as if his wish to speak were so paramount that permission should be granted immediately. The sudden change in the room as everyone turned to him was so startling that I looked up.

“Mr. Handler?” the professor looked at him expectantly. The boy brushed his shaggy dark chocolate hair out of his eyes before enlightening the class.

“Why are eugenics still necessary?” A gasp rippled throughout the room- Fastidious Fornication was the “politically correct” terminology, but “Mr. Handler” was ignoring the social norm purposely.

“How do you mean, ‘still’?”

“Well, the original purpose of eug- FF,” he exaggerated the acronym sarcastically after glancing at the shocked expressions of his classmates. “was to restructure a responsible society. Maybe it was necessary at first, but don’t you think its outlived its purpose? Genetically and logically speaking, the likelihood of society regressing back to pre-FF years is low.”

The professor sputtered. “Not at all, Mr. Handler. If the FF system was ended, we would simply slip back into the neanderthal habits we’ve tried so hard to distance ourselves from. Imagine a world where people with… 130 Iqs were allowed into universities!” The class erupted into laughter along with the instructor, but I noticed that the boy didn’t even crack a smile.

“Would you agree, however, sir, that what the FF system is advocating is something very much comparable to the Eve curse?”

“I don’t see what you mean. Especially because the Eve curse is a myth believed only by the weak of mind.”

“Debatable. But I’m not talking about anything literally. Let me explain. The Eve curse was, essentially, because one woman made a poor decision-and was punished for it justly- the rest of womankind for all of history was cursed as well, correct?”

“Correct.” The professor wasn’t smiling anymore.

“Well, isn’t that what the FF system is doing? Punishing people with low Iqs because their ancestors made poor socioeconomic decisions?”

“Of course not!” Although the professor was clearly about to argue back, I saw a flash of something in his eyes- recognition? Understanding? “Fastidious Fornication is a preventative measure, to ensure that nothing so detrimental to society can ever happen again.”

“But isn’t the IQ system awfully narrow, anyways?” he asked, more delicately than before. He was reaching into disputed territory; too many probing questions and he might be in danger of the authorities. “It doesn’t take into account artistic or musical talent. Or athleticism.”

“Oh, Mr. Handler, you don’t really believe those things are important, do you?” The amused air had faded, and this last inquiry was more of a warning than a clarification.

The boy didn’t say anything, lowering his eyes and going back to doodling on his notebook. The discussion travelled back to less treasonous topics, but I was no longer paying attention. I couldn’t take my eyes off of the boy who had spoken up, my heart making a racket in my chest. Glancing at the clock in the classroom, I realized that I was going to be late for the creative writing class. But I couldn’t risk losing sight of “Mr. Handler”, because he was the only chance I had left at rejoining society before I was too old to enjoy the education system. So I stayed in my tree until the end of the class, and followed the boy with my eyes as he left the classroom without speaking to anyone. It was a first floor class, so I made my way to the closest adjoining door and waited.

To be continued… eventually… in part 12