Grade 10
Fantasy/SciFi, NarrativeWritingWriting is something that Xiaoqing has always enjoyed, but it couldn’t have been possible without a love of reading. Whenever she isn’t reading or writing, she likes arts and crafts. This short story was originally written as part of a school science fiction assignment, and it aimed to reflect some of the fears and experiences of today. The author hopes people can spot them and take some of these messages to heart.
“Do you ever wonder what it’s like outside?” Two sisters lay side by side on the hard rooftop of their Scraper.
Sera Sable laughed at her sister, Rory. “We are outside, dummy.”
The two shouldn’t have been up there, really—but the Liberators of their City were more lenient than the others. It took a lot of convincing to get Sera to even consider going to the 823rd floor, even though it was common practice for the more rebellious teens.
“No, I mean, Outside outside.” There was that rebellious gleam in Rory’s eyes yet again.
Ever since their parents disappeared (though it was obvious the Liberators had a hand in that), Sera, who just turned nineteen, had to watch over Rory. Even though there were only three years between them, Sera felt like she had grown much older than Rory in the last two years.
“Don’t say things like that!” Sera sat up and glanced around. Her eyes were darting furiously to make sure that none of the others on the roof were listening.
“But don’t you remember the stories Mom and Dad used to tell us? Things are going to change, they have to,” Rory pressed on. “They can’t keep making us live like this.”
“And look at how our parents ended up! Who knows where they are now?”
From the rooftop, she could see the Horizon—a steel fence wrapped around the city, surrounded by swarms of government drones (Bees, as they were called with scorn). Some sections evaded the Sanitation Agents’ efforts and still had graffiti with rebel slogans. THEY ARE LYING and FIND TRUE LIBERATION were scrawled all over in red.
Beyond it was the Outside. The Liberators would broadcast propaganda films, sometimes with blazing wildfires and cracked dirt, and sometimes with mutated animals ripping each other apart. In all of the films, though, you can hear screaming—the source never specified, but the message was clear: stay within City limits or suffer.
The year is 2125. It’s been sixty years since the Trials, when the sky cried endless tears, when the ocean devoured land, when the air simmered with anger. Humans had done too much to their planet and did too little to fix it.
“It was horrible. People had no one to turn to . . .” her dad once told them.
That all changed when the Liberators appeared, a group full of pretty promises. They didn’t call themselves that at first, but the world was desperate for saviors, and that’s what they became. The Liberators became the government all over the world. It wasn’t so hard to get power when everyone was desperate.
The fateful decree came in 2100. All were to move to their designated City. And they were not to leave. Why would they need to, argued the Liberators, when the rest of the world is a wasteland?
Sera didn’t think too much about the rooftop conversation. It wasn’t unusual to hear Rory go on with these rebel-like things.
Life went on as usual. She went to work, passing by posters with reminders to SUPPORT THE LIBERATION! Soundbites blasted from the Bees, ringing in the silent air. The pavement was spotless, and the buildings sparkled like obsidian obelisks against the smoky sky. The air smelled sterile, tinged with antiseptic.
Sera would then go to the Offices of Government Materials. She would write and print off stacks of newsletters distributed to each door. It killed Sera a little whenever she wrote a praise-filled word about the Liberators, but it was the job they had assigned her—no one had choices here.
Sometimes, in her weaker moments, Sera would muse that maybe the rebels were plain wrong about the Liberators. Even though she knew what happened was wrong, she felt helpless. But what could she do? There was no other choice.
The day before the Quadricentennial Liberation Festival (“Yikes,” Sera had said when typing. “This won’t fit on the front page”), Rory couldn’t be found at home. Sera sighed. It wasn’t unusual.
The mandated TV program began. The City Spokesman stood at a podium. “Welcome to our Quadricentennial! To commemorate, we will present the names of our first Disposed!”
“These people here have forgotten what the perils of the Trials were and have forgotten why we are still here. We will send them to be Disposed of, as will be the fate of anyone who dares to follow in their footsteps.”
No . . . the Liberators wouldn’t go that far, would they? And Rory was gone…
“Alexander Abernathy, convicted of insubordination . . . Lilly Benson, convicted of laziness…” Sera hoped that none of the names would be her sister’s. The Spokesman went down the alphabet. She squeezed her eyes shut.
“Aurora Sable, convicted of attempting to bypass the Horizon.”
Sera’s eyes popped open. No! Her head started buzzing. A knock sounded from the door. Sera opened it to an envelope on the ground, the messenger missing.
Sera looked down at the envelope with her name on it, black lines against white.
Sera: I am a good friend of your parents, and I left this letter in case anything happens to Rory. All is not what it seems, I assure you. I know that you’ve never been someone who would go against the Liberation, but I also know how much you love your sister. You need to know this: we can help you. Here’s a Call-Card attached if you want to join us. I know you will make the right choice.
—A friend, from the Horizon Group
Sera’s eyes skimmed through again, head swimming. She removed the card from the envelope. It was dark blue, slim, discreet. She spotted a nearly invisible button to call. It all took one press of the button to change everything. She couldn’t keep going the way she was before, turning a blind eye to the most awful injustices. She felt helpless, but she now knew that there was another way forward—as difficult as it was, she could try.
She hovered her thumb over the button and pressed down.
“Hi. This is Sera Sable . . .”
This piece was originally published in No Ordinary Dreamer by 826 National.
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