CHAPTER 1
I can feel the raw flesh rubbing against the inside of my heels.
The blister just popped.
Good, I hope I bleed all over these wretched satin shoes - my first pair of heels.
The first of three, Mum said.
Heels for Occasions. Today is an Occasion.
Actually, today is the 'biggest day of my life'.
Today I will walk into the civic auditorium as a seventeen-year-old high school graduate and walk out-
'Name.' The man's grating voice cuts through my reverie.
Mum tosses her hair across her shoulder and looks down her nose at the clerk.
'Luanna Veodrum and my daughter, Teddy Veodrum.'
I don't bother caring about how she says our last name anymore, the emphasis she puts on it.
Like she's speaking in italics. Veodrum.
'Row 57 A, B.' He doesn't look at her, and she narrows her eyes.
Everyone looks at my mother.
She's one of - if not the - most influential socialites in the City.
He hands her two passes, a red one for her and a blue one for me.
Another red pass sits menacingly on the bench.
The clerk doesn't mention my father's absence.
I copy my mother and clip my pass to the lapel of my dress.
I swallow. This is it.
The door to the left of the clerk's temporary desk is open.
I can feel the bodies of the other families behind us, all pushing, eager to get their names marked off and move inside the auditorium.
I don't share their enthusiasm. If I could turn around and go home, I would.
If I could go back to bed and wake up anytime but today, I would.
I hate today. The more I learn about it, the more I feel like I hate this whole year.
Today should be a time of grand celebration, my first Council Occasion: my Job Placement.
Today marks the first of three ceremonies that signify the completion of my time as a child and student.
According to the pamphlet, these ceremonies mark the emergence of my new life as a worker, wife and womb keeper.
Our Platinum Jubilee
THE FUTURE IS OURS
Help us celebrate all Our City Council has done for Us and our next generation of watchers, workers and womb keepers.
Join Us for this year's Graduate Occasions.
Outline of proceedings for this year on the reverse side of this document.
I trail after Mum, but the second I walk into the room I stop.
Rows and rows of seats wrap around the circular auditorium, just stopping short of the imposing stage.
This building was designed to fit the families of each generation, one Occasion at a time.
But that's not what has my attention. Mum turns back to me and smiles.
'Pretty impressive, isn't it?' she says.
I can't take my eyes off the colossal honeycomb dome above us.
'It took three thousand glass hexagons to make that dome.
Each one cut by hand by master glassworkers.'
She draws her eyes from me for a second to look up.
'Takes one's breath away to think about it.'
Mum loves those things, the effort something takes, honouring work ethic and achievement when and where it's due.
'Hurry up Teddy, our seats are in row 57, and these stairs aren't going to walk themselves.'
I sigh. I can feel the blood sticking against the back of my heels.
My mother ascends the stairs, the centre of attention.
Some people stop her to fawn.
Others are trying to be subtle, pointing just past us or looking around 'for a friend', but their eyes follow her.
It's not hard to see why.
My father might be one of the most influential councillors in Our City, but my mother is the voice of the people: the editor of Metropolis Magazine, Our only Council-sanctioned entertainment.
For seventy years, that institution has guided Our City, and now my mother is at its helm.
Hers is the voice of reason and trust, and we are the Council's poster family.
She smiles benevolently, waving as sycophants call out for her attention.
She stops, too, answering all the petty questions she's asked.
It's worse than the pain my shoes are causing me.
I don't know how she handles it at all, with a smile no less.
Nothing slips through her façade.
As we settle into seats A and B, Mum eliminates my father's obnoxiously vacant seat C under the plumes of her skirt.
I know it hurts her.
His ever-increasing responsibilities on the Mayor's Table seem to have taken precedence over his familial duties, although I can't say I'm sorry for his absence.
I slip my shoes off and bend forward to touch my heels.
The sharp hiss of air I suck in is enough to catch my mother's attention.
She clicks open her purse and passes me two band-aids.
I take them with a grateful smile.
Of all the things dwarfed from our high seats, the long, black stage is not one of them.
It's bare but for the vast banner hanging from the ceiling, as still as death, displaying Our City's seal, that eye.
Always watching.
There is a podium at the front of the stage.
That's it; no guards clustered together in their charcoal uniforms, or eagle-eyed councillors.
Yet I cannot shake the feeling of dread that settles across my shoulders like a heavy mantle.
I turn to Mum and open my mouth. She looks at me, expectantly.
'Yes?' she asks.
'Nothing,' I say, shaking my head softly so I don't disturb the ornate twist of hair pinned precariously on top of my head.
I turn back to the stage and swallow.
Why does it look so horrifying to me?
The band-aids haven't stopped the stinging, but they do help when I slip my shoes back on.
I tilt my head back to look up again.
The three thousand glass hexagons suddenly feel awfully close, and I notice it smells damp this far up.
I reach across and grab Mum's gloved hand with my own bare one.
My hands are uncovered, as is tradition until I'm Partnered.
She squeezes it tight and smiles at me.
I smile back; a real smile this time.
Together we rise, and our smiles are gone.
It has begun.
Our City and its People
With pride, truth, courage We stand,
Against all dark evil
Like self, creative or made
In Our predecessors' wake,
Those who couldn't share,
Our vision for Our People.
It's time; We don't forget.
As we chant these words, I can feel Our voices resonating in my chest.
I used to be filled with excitement, hearing everybody's voices united.
I was proud to be a part of this.
A bead of sweat runs down my back as the words rattle around in my head: It's time; We don't forget.
As if we've ever been given the chance.
As Our City's anthemic Creed comes to an end, I can hardly make myself move my lips.
Nervous anticipation rips through me.
I still can't tell if this is the beginning or the end.
'We watch because We care,' we all say together, standing shoulder to shoulder.
Before the heat of our breaths has settled, a tall woman walks out from behind the banner.
Her hair is grey, her suit is grey and, from up here, her watery, vague eyes look grey too.
'Our People,' she begins, her saccharine voice carrying clearly throughout the vast auditorium.
'It is my honour to be here with Us today, sharing in this Occasion.
It is not every day We celebrate an Occasion such as this.'
She pauses. 'It is once a year.'
She smiles, and everyone laughs. Everyone except me.
Her smile doesn't reach her eyes as they scan over us all, like she's scanning us for infection.
I can't help but imagine her teeth are sharp and pointy.
She gestures for us to sit, and in one sweeping motion over one hundred people comply.
I can feel the force of Our action.
'This,' she continues,'is the story of Our great achievement, the achievement of Our Metropolis City Council.
It's the same story We have learnt as students at school each year; the City erected walls to protect Us, the City enacted laws to protect Us, and the City has made sure We are protected every year.'
Everyone claps; the applause is not thunderous, it's polite, contained.
'We the People are gathered here today to celebrate Our City's youth.
Today is the day they begin their journey of giving back to the City that has given them so much.'
I glance at my mother. She has tears in her eyes.
'Our City has worked to protect Us - all of Us - and to save Us from Ourselves.'
The woman suddenly grips the podium and leans forward.
Her voice drops. 'I know I don't need to remind any of Us about Our responsibilities.'
She stands up straight again and ruffles her papers, despite not having looked at them once.
'You know We are all born with those vile characteristics. The desire to create, to express.'
She spits the words out as though merely saying them could infect her. 'They are evil.'
She looks up towards the top of the large auditorium. 'We are evil.'
My heart quickens in my chest. It feels like she's looking straight at me.
'That is what leads to conflict.
That is what led humanity to war and, in the end, mass devastation, nuclear fallout and the near extinction of Our very species.
Within the walls of Our Metropolis, We're protected by Our City Guards, who patrol the very wall that saved Us from the slow death of Outside.
That is why We obey Our curfew.
We are simple people, and Our Great Council knows that We need protection from Ourselves.'
She pauses again and steps around the podium.
She places her hands on her thighs, formally bowing.
'Remember,' she says, her voice still loud and clear, and then everybody is back on their feet, bowing in the same stiff motion.
'We watch —' she begins.
'Because We care,' we respond, as is Our custom.
She nods curtly, and I see a small but satisfied smile playing on her lips.
'My name is Councillor Kathryn Corrumpere, I will now commence the proceedings and reveal who each of you will be, and how you will serve Our Great City, Metropolis.'
I remember her name from Our History classes.
Kathryn Corrumpere is known as one of the greatest councilors of Our time, lauded for her exemplary work in the Sanitisation of the Infected and Jurisdictional Control in the Sanitisation sector.
This is the woman behind the disappearances - the relocations of family members around Our City.
She's the reason Lisa is gone.
The thought of my best friend has me picking at the edge of my dress.
How can these people accept their friends being taken and then reintegrated?
And where? I still cannot work out where they are being taken.
'You will all be in the stages of completing your three-month Internships - the service we’ve had you complete before you start your real service.'
I roll my eyes; three months of slave labour.
Mum elbows me and points to the stage. Focus.
Councillor Corrumpere continues.
'But that is not all. Today you will join us all as adults in a community that has supported you since your birth.
And this year is particularly significant as We are also celebrating Our Great City's Platinum Jubilee.
This year We are seventy!'
The audience collectively jumps; she shouted severity into the microphone, throwing her arms up in triumph.
'You're all here - Our City's brightest new lights, beacons of the future, ready to receive your jobs.'
She reshuffles her papers. 'Could all candidates please rise?'
The rustling sound is overwhelming as all the young people stand, fidgeting at clothes they've never worn, in shoes they don't fill.
I swallow hard and look around the enormous auditorium.
I'm not the only one stealing a glance.
I only recognise a handful of people - mostly girls, all from my School Code.
We've shared the same classes since we were four years old.
You would think after all that time together, we might have some kind of friendship.
We don't. Lisa was my only friend.
She was different from the other girls; she was more like me.
Or maybe I was like her?
Generally, students don't have much exposure to each other socially outside of school.
I guess the City doesn't think it's worth it - once we're Partnered, previous lives don't matter.
I spot Sarah Parker, looking around to see who's noticed her.
It would be hard to miss her in the gaudy orange dress she's chosen.
Unfortunately, we make eye contact. Sarah smiles. Correction: smirks.
I think back to school, when Sarah would mock Lisa for her family's lower ranking.
Sarah's father, like mine, has a role in the Mayor's office, which will help our Job Placement, maybe even influence how we're Partnered.
I loathe Sarah for every minute that she relishes in it, but I hate myself more, for not standing up for Lisa back then.
I was supposed to be her best friend.
'Pay attention!' Mum hisses beside me, and I realise they're calling the graduates to the front of the stage.
I make my way down the stairs towards the pool of eligible young people.
Standing amongst the crowd of adolescents, struck by the nauseating mix of perfumes and aftershave, I look around, still half expecting to see Lisa.
Wanting to. Lisa would have laughed at my blistered heels.
She would have put band-aids on at home before she left; she was always so prepared.
I smile at a girl who's playing nervously with a handkerchief beside me.
She smiles back, and I feel a little less alone.
I look around again, searching for a face I might recognise.
I had promised myself I wouldn't be nervous.
A part of me is worried that I might get the same job as my Internship, but I'm trying not to think of that exceptional torture.
Anyway, it doesn’t matter what position I get placed in - I will always have to watch myself.
If losing Lisa taught me anything, it's that.
A vacant sort of resignation settles in my chest.
I watch some girls giggling, their arms linked.
Many of the boys are slapping each other on the shoulder.
Friends. While we mill about, the 'great' Councillor Corrumpere is still talking.
Like all the others, I hardly pay any attention.
I move around, listening to the hushed chatter mixing with her speech...Jubilee...I hope we're together... Chosen ones...anything but that... someone bumps me.
I look up and realise how close I am to the imposing stage.
'Alright, Children.' The Councillor calls us to attention, her spiel to the parents concluded.
'You are Our next generation, Our greatest achievement.
You are the future of Our Metropolis City.'
Her words have a silencing effect on the gathered youth.
We are all still. She looks at us through her watery grey eyes.
Hungry. I can see, now that I'm closer, her teeth aren't sharp, but I still can't shake the image from my mind.
'I will call Our children to the stage individually.
Each will receive their Job Placement then return to their family seating.
Please hold any applause to the end.'
That last request is accompanied by a stern look at the gathered audience.
I don't think anyone would dare defy that look.
I feel a twisting knot of anticipation form in my stomach.
Stop it. This doesn't mean anything.
But still, it churns. A glance around tells me I'm not the only one.
'Pretty intense, huh?' I hear someone say.
There's no reply, and I look around.
A boy is standing beside me, smiling. It crinkles his freckly nose.
I open my mouth to reply, but can't think of anything to say.
'Don't you reckon?' he asks. I close my mouth and nod.
He nods with me, and the action makes his sandy hair flop over his eyes.
He looks nice. Kind. A strange thought occurs to me: I wonder if I'm talking to my future Partner.
Could he be? I swallow, then try to smile back, but he's already turned away.
I didn't expect to feel disappointed.
I'm not used to talking to boys. It's never encouraged, especially not at school.
I want to ask what his School Code is.
To find out what neighbourhood he's from. He turns back to me.
'Think this is so crazy. My new shoes are killing my feet!'
'Me too!' I exclaim. A few people turn to give us annoyed looks.
I whisper, 'I'm not sure if we're allowed to talk.' He shrugs, looking around.
'Everyone else is?' This time I do smile.
This talking to a stranger business is easy enough.
'Yeah, I guess with all us "chosen ones" gathered here there's too many to Sanitise.'
I laugh awkwardly.
I have said the wrong thing. The boy's eyes freeze over and his face turns to stone.
I want to kick myself. I don't know these people - I need to be more careful.
People don't joke about Sanitisation.
I take a step closer and try to catch the boy's eye to apologise.
Quickly he turns away, muttering about getting a closer view, and then he's disappeared behind the crowd of adolescents.
My attention returns to the stage as the audience breaks into a polite smattering of applause.
And then there he is, the sandy-haired boy, marching stoically up to receive his job.
'We congratulate you, Charlie, on your appointment to electrical maintenance at the Metropolis substation.
Your work will help us grow Our Great City.'
Charlie shakes hands with Councillor Corrumpere, then walks across the stage to two more suit-wearing councillors.
When did they get here? He shakes their hands too, posing for a photo.
I realise I need to start paying attention.
I follow electrical maintenance worker Charlie until he's lost in the throng of people on the other side of the stage.
'We congratulate you, Helen...' Corrumpere continues from the podium.
There! I see him climbing the stairs to his family's row.
'Teddy Veodrum.' I hear my name over the speakers.
A few people from my School Code turn to look as I start making my way through the mass of bodies.
As I move towards the stairs on the left of the stage, I can see that they're grated.
Perfect for catching the thin heel of these stupid shoes.
I wish this process were private, all of it.
But we are not afforded the luxury of privacy especially not at this time in our lives.
I can feel my hand shaking as I grip onto the metal rail beside the stairs.
Don't slip, don't get stuck. I take two more steps and dare to take a glance out.
The lights shining on the stage are so bright I have to look away.
Blinking away the glaze of tears, I count five more stairs.
I can see the councilwoman staring at me with her cold grey eyes.
As I approach, I ball my clammy hands into fists by my sides.
Every step I take, I can hear an echo.
I glance around, then realise it's me.
It's my shoes - they clatter across the stage.
I feel like a lie. I don't wear shoes like this.
I'm not a mother, a wife. Yet. Three more steps.
I look up, and Councillor Corrumpere's pursed mouth breaks into her trademark saccharine smile.
'We congratulate you, Teddy, on your appointment at Metropolis Magazine.
You will work with some of the greatest voices of Our City.'
She extends her hand to me.
I look out to the crowd, then look back, step forward and take her hand.
Her grip is uncomfortably firm and her hand is cold, despite all the flesh it's been touching.
I let go before she does. She doesn't tell or show me where to go.
'Kyle Reep,' she reads out.
I look around for the exit, then walk towards the two men beckoning to me sternly from the other end of the stage.
They don't smile. One of the councillors steps forward and takes my hand.
I notice a flash but can't see a photographer.
He lets go, and the other man takes my hand - another flash from the camera.
I'm sure I must look stunned.
'Down the stairs,' the second man says, already looking at the kid behind me.
I step off the stage then walk back to my mother, climbing the stairs up to row 57, to join the elite.
No one would dare say it, but we know how it works.
Your family name is the Council's ranking system.
According to my father, Our Council needed a way to ensure their positions are filled, and using surnames makes overseeing this many people much more manageable.
I take my seat and Mum pulls me in for a teary hug.
She doesn't mask her joy. I try smiling, to look as happy as she feels, but I can't.
'You're so lucky,' she whispers in my ear.
I wonder how much influence my father had in my new job, set to be working alongside her.
A high-ranking position for our high-ranking family.
She sits back and dabs her eyes with a cotton handkerchief.
I look down towards where I saw that boy go.
His family don't look happy.
I don't know if it's the distance or an illusion, but I swear I can see his mother frowning.
For the remainder of the ceremony, I'm stuck in a loop, watching each parent receive their child with different emotions.
At one point, Mum squeezes my hand and whispers, 'I'm glad I'll be able to keep you close.'
I squeeze back. Every family seems to have a different reaction: some are full of joyful tears for their child's new government role.
Some jobs are obviously expected, the recipient greeted with a clap on the shoulder and a kiss.
Others are unexpected - gasps of joy when an 'E' family find out their daughter will work in Sanitisation; clenched jaws when a son gets a construction job.
It takes hours. I think this is the reason they don't call us in alphabetical order.
Jumping from 'T's' to 'B's' means there's no way to know when we're near the end.
Finally, the last child is called.
Councillor Corrumpere smiles at the audience.
'You may now congratulate Our lucky recipients.'
The auditorium erupts in applause - genuinely thunderous this time.
Some people stamp their feet while others clap with their hands above their heads.
I continue to watch the audience, noticing some people aren't clapping at all.
My eyes slip back to the sandy-haired boy and his family.
His mother is gripping his arm like a vice, while his father claps slowly, his eyes squeezed shut.
Deep down in my stomach, I feel that knot twisting its way back in.
'You're so lucky,' Mum whispers in my ear, again.
Following my line of sight, she gives me a look that suggests she knows what I've been thinking.
I turn my attention back to the now-empty stage, the oversized banner of Our City's Eye gazing over us, always watching.
My hands start to feel numb, a sensation that quickly spreads through my body.
The longer we clap, the more I understand.
None of this is about luck at all.
[00:09.992]CHAPTER 1
[00:14.511]I can feel the raw flesh rubbing against the inside of my heels.
[00:18.822]The blister just popped.
[00:20.676]Good, I hope I bleed all over these wretched satin shoes - my first pair of heels.
[00:27.233]The first of three, Mum said.
[00:29.192]Heels for Occasions. Today is an Occasion.
[00:32.614]Actually, today is the 'biggest day of my life'.
[00:36.376]Today I will walk into the civic auditorium as a seventeen-year-old high school graduate and walk out-
[00:43.324]'Name.' The man's grating voice cuts through my reverie.
[00:47.609]Mum tosses her hair across her shoulder and looks down her nose at the clerk.
[00:51.553]'Luanna Veodrum and my daughter, Teddy Veodrum.'
[00:56.569]I don't bother caring about how she says our last name anymore, the emphasis she puts on it.
[01:01.741]Like she's speaking in italics. Veodrum.
[01:05.973]'Row 57 A, B.' He doesn't look at her, and she narrows her eyes.
[01:11.746]Everyone looks at my mother.
[01:13.888]She's one of - if not the - most influential socialites in the City.
[01:19.060]He hands her two passes, a red one for her and a blue one for me.
[01:24.624]Another red pass sits menacingly on the bench.
[01:28.360]The clerk doesn't mention my father's absence.
[01:31.024]I copy my mother and clip my pass to the lapel of my dress.
[01:35.047]I swallow. This is it.
[01:38.260]The door to the left of the clerk's temporary desk is open.
[01:42.335]I can feel the bodies of the other families behind us, all pushing, eager to get their names marked off and move inside the auditorium.
[01:51.191]I don't share their enthusiasm. If I could turn around and go home, I would.
[01:56.546]If I could go back to bed and wake up anytime but today, I would.
[02:01.483]I hate today. The more I learn about it, the more I feel like I hate this whole year.
[02:08.275]Today should be a time of grand celebration, my first Council Occasion: my Job Placement.
[02:15.223]Today marks the first of three ceremonies that signify the completion of my time as a child and student.
[02:23.008]According to the pamphlet, these ceremonies mark the emergence of my new life as a worker, wife and womb keeper.
[02:32.229]Our Platinum Jubilee
[02:33.927]THE FUTURE IS OURS
[02:35.912]Help us celebrate all Our City Council has done for Us and our next generation of watchers, workers and womb keepers.
[02:44.742]Join Us for this year's Graduate Occasions.
[02:48.373]Outline of proceedings for this year on the reverse side of this document.
[02:54.146]I trail after Mum, but the second I walk into the room I stop.
[02:58.639]Rows and rows of seats wrap around the circular auditorium, just stopping short of the imposing stage.
[03:06.580]This building was designed to fit the families of each generation, one Occasion at a time.
[03:13.581]But that's not what has my attention. Mum turns back to me and smiles.
[03:18.649]'Pretty impressive, isn't it?' she says.
[03:21.705]I can't take my eyes off the colossal honeycomb dome above us.
[03:26.041]'It took three thousand glass hexagons to make that dome.
[03:29.933]Each one cut by hand by master glassworkers.'
[03:33.878]She draws her eyes from me for a second to look up.
[03:36.856]'Takes one's breath away to think about it.'
[03:39.991]Mum loves those things, the effort something takes, honouring work ethic and achievement when and where it's due.
[03:47.540]'Hurry up Teddy, our seats are in row 57, and these stairs aren't going to walk themselves.'
[03:54.123]I sigh. I can feel the blood sticking against the back of my heels.
[03:58.982]My mother ascends the stairs, the centre of attention.
[04:03.083]Some people stop her to fawn.
[04:05.434]Others are trying to be subtle, pointing just past us or looking around 'for a friend', but their eyes follow her.
[04:13.218]It's not hard to see why.
[04:14.995]My father might be one of the most influential councillors in Our City, but my mother is the voice of the people: the editor of Metropolis Magazine, Our only Council-sanctioned entertainment.
[04:28.866]For seventy years, that institution has guided Our City, and now my mother is at its helm.
[04:36.676]Hers is the voice of reason and trust, and we are the Council's poster family.
[04:42.815]She smiles benevolently, waving as sycophants call out for her attention.
[04:48.431]She stops, too, answering all the petty questions she's asked.
[04:53.238]It's worse than the pain my shoes are causing me.
[04:56.138]I don't know how she handles it at all, with a smile no less.
[04:59.455]Nothing slips through her façade.
[05:02.224]As we settle into seats A and B, Mum eliminates my father's obnoxiously vacant seat C under the plumes of her skirt.
[05:12.046]I know it hurts her.
[05:13.352]His ever-increasing responsibilities on the Mayor's Table seem to have taken precedence over his familial duties, although I can't say I'm sorry for his absence.
[05:23.932]I slip my shoes off and bend forward to touch my heels.
[05:27.328]The sharp hiss of air I suck in is enough to catch my mother's attention.
[05:32.291]She clicks open her purse and passes me two band-aids.
[05:36.471]I take them with a grateful smile.
[05:39.318]Of all the things dwarfed from our high seats, the long, black stage is not one of them.
[05:45.326]It's bare but for the vast banner hanging from the ceiling, as still as death, displaying Our City's seal, that eye.
[05:54.338]Always watching.
[05:56.794]There is a podium at the front of the stage.
[05:59.276]That's it; no guards clustered together in their charcoal uniforms, or eagle-eyed councillors.
[06:06.093]Yet I cannot shake the feeling of dread that settles across my shoulders like a heavy mantle.
[06:12.180]I turn to Mum and open my mouth. She looks at me, expectantly.
[06:16.542]'Yes?' she asks.
[06:19.207]'Nothing,' I say, shaking my head softly so I don't disturb the ornate twist of hair pinned precariously on top of my head.
[06:27.906]I turn back to the stage and swallow.
[06:30.387]Why does it look so horrifying to me?
[06:33.809]The band-aids haven't stopped the stinging, but they do help when I slip my shoes back on.
[06:39.739]I tilt my head back to look up again.
[06:42.508]The three thousand glass hexagons suddenly feel awfully close, and I notice it smells damp this far up.
[06:49.849]I reach across and grab Mum's gloved hand with my own bare one.
[06:54.368]My hands are uncovered, as is tradition until I'm Partnered.
[06:58.443]She squeezes it tight and smiles at me.
[07:01.447]I smile back; a real smile this time.
[07:04.660]Together we rise, and our smiles are gone.
[07:08.187]It has begun.
[07:10.720]Our City and its People
[07:12.601]With pride, truth, courage We stand,
[07:15.997]Against all dark evil
[07:17.591]Like self, creative or made
[07:20.255]In Our predecessors' wake,
[07:22.606]Those who couldn't share,
[07:24.879]Our vision for Our People.
[07:27.308]It's time; We don't forget.
[07:30.443]As we chant these words, I can feel Our voices resonating in my chest.
[07:35.328]I used to be filled with excitement, hearing everybody's voices united.
[07:39.978]I was proud to be a part of this.
[07:42.538]A bead of sweat runs down my back as the words rattle around in my head: It's time; We don't forget.
[07:50.688]As if we've ever been given the chance.
[07:53.169]As Our City's anthemic Creed comes to an end, I can hardly make myself move my lips.
[07:59.674]Nervous anticipation rips through me.
[08:02.573]I still can't tell if this is the beginning or the end.
[08:07.511]'We watch because We care,' we all say together, standing shoulder to shoulder.
[08:13.676]Before the heat of our breaths has settled, a tall woman walks out from behind the banner.
[08:19.135]Her hair is grey, her suit is grey and, from up here, her watery, vague eyes look grey too.
[08:25.927]'Our People,' she begins, her saccharine voice carrying clearly throughout the vast auditorium.
[08:34.025]'It is my honour to be here with Us today, sharing in this Occasion.
[08:40.947]It is not every day We celebrate an Occasion such as this.'
[08:45.597]She pauses. 'It is once a year.'
[08:49.463]She smiles, and everyone laughs. Everyone except me.
[08:54.270]Her smile doesn't reach her eyes as they scan over us all, like she's scanning us for infection.
[09:00.095]I can't help but imagine her teeth are sharp and pointy.
[09:04.275]She gestures for us to sit, and in one sweeping motion over one hundred people comply.
[09:11.145]I can feel the force of Our action.
[09:13.627]'This,' she continues,'is the story of Our great achievement, the achievement of Our Metropolis City Council.
[09:23.292]It's the same story We have learnt as students at school each year; the City erected walls to protect Us, the City enacted laws to protect Us, and the City has made sure We are protected every year.'
[09:39.880]Everyone claps; the applause is not thunderous, it's polite, contained.
[09:45.209]'We the People are gathered here today to celebrate Our City's youth.
[09:52.340]Today is the day they begin their journey of giving back to the City that has given them so much.'
[10:01.875]I glance at my mother. She has tears in her eyes.
[10:06.316]'Our City has worked to protect Us - all of Us - and to save Us from Ourselves.'
[10:16.556]The woman suddenly grips the podium and leans forward.
[10:20.004]Her voice drops. 'I know I don't need to remind any of Us about Our responsibilities.'
[10:28.232]She stands up straight again and ruffles her papers, despite not having looked at them once.
[10:33.796]'You know We are all born with those vile characteristics. The desire to create, to express.'
[10:42.835]She spits the words out as though merely saying them could infect her. 'They are evil.'
[10:48.660]She looks up towards the top of the large auditorium. 'We are evil.'
[10:54.093]My heart quickens in my chest. It feels like she's looking straight at me.
[10:58.796]'That is what leads to conflict.
[11:02.191]That is what led humanity to war and, in the end, mass devastation, nuclear fallout and the near extinction of Our very species.
[11:14.234]Within the walls of Our Metropolis, We're protected by Our City Guards, who patrol the very wall that saved Us from the slow death of Outside.
[11:26.067]That is why We obey Our curfew.
[11:29.071]We are simple people, and Our Great Council knows that We need protection from Ourselves.'
[11:37.378]She pauses again and steps around the podium.
[11:40.278]She places her hands on her thighs, formally bowing.
[11:43.831]'Remember,' she says, her voice still loud and clear, and then everybody is back on their feet, bowing in the same stiff motion.
[11:53.496]'We watch —' she begins.
[11:55.925]'Because We care,' we respond, as is Our custom.
[12:02.116]She nods curtly, and I see a small but satisfied smile playing on her lips.
[12:07.315]'My name is Councillor Kathryn Corrumpere, I will now commence the proceedings and reveal who each of you will be, and how you will serve Our Great City, Metropolis.'
[12:22.361]I remember her name from Our History classes.
[12:24.921]Kathryn Corrumpere is known as one of the greatest councilors of Our time, lauded for her exemplary work in the Sanitisation of the Infected and Jurisdictional Control in the Sanitisation sector.
[12:38.479]This is the woman behind the disappearances - the relocations of family members around Our City.
[12:45.401]She's the reason Lisa is gone.
[12:48.379]The thought of my best friend has me picking at the edge of my dress.
[12:51.749]How can these people accept their friends being taken and then reintegrated?
[12:56.660]And where? I still cannot work out where they are being taken.
[13:00.657]'You will all be in the stages of completing your three-month Internships - the service we’ve had you complete before you start your real service.'
[13:11.184]I roll my eyes; three months of slave labour.
[13:14.972]Mum elbows me and points to the stage. Focus.
[13:18.916]Councillor Corrumpere continues.
[13:21.476]'But that is not all. Today you will join us all as adults in a community that has supported you since your birth.
[13:31.560]And this year is particularly significant as We are also celebrating Our Great City's Platinum Jubilee.
[13:40.389]This year We are seventy!'
[13:44.595]The audience collectively jumps; she shouted severity into the microphone, throwing her arms up in triumph.
[13:51.073]'You're all here - Our City's brightest new lights, beacons of the future, ready to receive your jobs.'
[14:00.399]She reshuffles her papers. 'Could all candidates please rise?'
[14:04.552]The rustling sound is overwhelming as all the young people stand, fidgeting at clothes they've never worn, in shoes they don't fill.
[14:13.773]I swallow hard and look around the enormous auditorium.
[14:17.666]I'm not the only one stealing a glance.
[14:20.278]I only recognise a handful of people - mostly girls, all from my School Code.
[14:26.208]We've shared the same classes since we were four years old.
[14:30.126]You would think after all that time together, we might have some kind of friendship.
[14:35.037]We don't. Lisa was my only friend.
[14:38.302]She was different from the other girls; she was more like me.
[14:42.534]Or maybe I was like her?
[14:44.755]Generally, students don't have much exposure to each other socially outside of school.
[14:49.744]I guess the City doesn't think it's worth it - once we're Partnered, previous lives don't matter.
[14:55.465]I spot Sarah Parker, looking around to see who's noticed her.
[14:59.488]It would be hard to miss her in the gaudy orange dress she's chosen.
[15:03.746]Unfortunately, we make eye contact. Sarah smiles. Correction: smirks.
[15:10.773]I think back to school, when Sarah would mock Lisa for her family's lower ranking.
[15:16.415]Sarah's father, like mine, has a role in the Mayor's office, which will help our Job Placement, maybe even influence how we're Partnered.
[15:25.166]I loathe Sarah for every minute that she relishes in it, but I hate myself more, for not standing up for Lisa back then.
[15:33.578]I was supposed to be her best friend.
[15:36.242]'Pay attention!' Mum hisses beside me, and I realise they're calling the graduates to the front of the stage.
[15:43.635]I make my way down the stairs towards the pool of eligible young people.
[15:48.258]Standing amongst the crowd of adolescents, struck by the nauseating mix of perfumes and aftershave, I look around, still half expecting to see Lisa.
[15:58.342]Wanting to. Lisa would have laughed at my blistered heels.
[16:02.391]She would have put band-aids on at home before she left; she was always so prepared.
[16:09.862]I smile at a girl who's playing nervously with a handkerchief beside me.
[16:13.989]She smiles back, and I feel a little less alone.
[16:17.803]I look around again, searching for a face I might recognise.
[16:22.009]I had promised myself I wouldn't be nervous.
[16:25.169]A part of me is worried that I might get the same job as my Internship, but I'm trying not to think of that exceptional torture.
[16:32.797]Anyway, it doesn’t matter what position I get placed in - I will always have to watch myself.
[16:38.100]If losing Lisa taught me anything, it's that.
[16:41.548]A vacant sort of resignation settles in my chest.
[16:45.519]I watch some girls giggling, their arms linked.
[16:48.758]Many of the boys are slapping each other on the shoulder.
[16:51.971]Friends. While we mill about, the 'great' Councillor Corrumpere is still talking.
[16:58.084]Like all the others, I hardly pay any attention.
[17:01.427]I move around, listening to the hushed chatter mixing with her speech...Jubilee...I hope we're together... Chosen ones...anything but that... someone bumps me.
[17:13.287]I look up and realise how close I am to the imposing stage.
[17:16.761]'Alright, Children.' The Councillor calls us to attention, her spiel to the parents concluded.
[17:23.736]'You are Our next generation, Our greatest achievement.
[17:28.595]You are the future of Our Metropolis City.'
[17:32.879]Her words have a silencing effect on the gathered youth.
[17:36.954]We are all still. She looks at us through her watery grey eyes.
[17:42.492]Hungry. I can see, now that I'm closer, her teeth aren't sharp, but I still can't shake the image from my mind.
[17:50.093]'I will call Our children to the stage individually.
[17:54.665]Each will receive their Job Placement then return to their family seating.
[17:59.550]Please hold any applause to the end.'
[18:04.147]That last request is accompanied by a stern look at the gathered audience.
[18:08.849]I don't think anyone would dare defy that look.
[18:12.193]I feel a twisting knot of anticipation form in my stomach.
[18:16.921]Stop it. This doesn't mean anything.
[18:20.422]But still, it churns. A glance around tells me I'm not the only one.
[18:26.691]'Pretty intense, huh?' I hear someone say.
[18:30.218]There's no reply, and I look around.
[18:32.255]A boy is standing beside me, smiling. It crinkles his freckly nose.
[18:37.715]I open my mouth to reply, but can't think of anything to say.
[18:42.051]'Don't you reckon?' he asks. I close my mouth and nod.
[18:46.204]He nods with me, and the action makes his sandy hair flop over his eyes.
[18:51.089]He looks nice. Kind. A strange thought occurs to me: I wonder if I'm talking to my future Partner.
[18:58.978]Could he be? I swallow, then try to smile back, but he's already turned away.
[19:04.960]I didn't expect to feel disappointed.
[19:07.677]I'm not used to talking to boys. It's never encouraged, especially not at school.
[19:14.103]I want to ask what his School Code is.
[19:16.089]To find out what neighbourhood he's from. He turns back to me.
[19:19.641]'Think this is so crazy. My new shoes are killing my feet!'
[19:24.213]'Me too!' I exclaim. A few people turn to give us annoyed looks.
[19:29.333]I whisper, 'I'm not sure if we're allowed to talk.' He shrugs, looking around.
[19:34.165]'Everyone else is?' This time I do smile.
[19:37.640]This talking to a stranger business is easy enough.
[19:41.062]'Yeah, I guess with all us "chosen ones" gathered here there's too many to Sanitise.'
[19:46.208]I laugh awkwardly.
[19:47.853]I have said the wrong thing. The boy's eyes freeze over and his face turns to stone.
[19:54.671]I want to kick myself. I don't know these people - I need to be more careful.
[20:00.575]People don't joke about Sanitisation.
[20:03.840]I take a step closer and try to catch the boy's eye to apologise.
[20:08.987]Quickly he turns away, muttering about getting a closer view, and then he's disappeared behind the crowd of adolescents.
[20:16.275]My attention returns to the stage as the audience breaks into a polite smattering of applause.
[20:22.283]And then there he is, the sandy-haired boy, marching stoically up to receive his job.
[20:28.108]'We congratulate you, Charlie, on your appointment to electrical maintenance at the Metropolis substation.
[20:37.669]Your work will help us grow Our Great City.'
[20:41.666]Charlie shakes hands with Councillor Corrumpere, then walks across the stage to two more suit-wearing councillors.
[20:48.405]When did they get here? He shakes their hands too, posing for a photo.
[20:52.951]I realise I need to start paying attention.
[20:55.563]I follow electrical maintenance worker Charlie until he's lost in the throng of people on the other side of the stage.
[21:02.642]'We congratulate you, Helen...' Corrumpere continues from the podium.
[21:08.467]There! I see him climbing the stairs to his family's row.
[21:12.699]'Teddy Veodrum.' I hear my name over the speakers.
[21:18.890]A few people from my School Code turn to look as I start making my way through the mass of bodies.
[21:24.533]As I move towards the stairs on the left of the stage, I can see that they're grated.
[21:29.705]Perfect for catching the thin heel of these stupid shoes.
[21:34.799]I wish this process were private, all of it.
[21:38.325]But we are not afforded the luxury of privacy especially not at this time in our lives.
[21:43.968]I can feel my hand shaking as I grip onto the metal rail beside the stairs.
[21:48.800]Don't slip, don't get stuck. I take two more steps and dare to take a glance out.
[21:54.600]The lights shining on the stage are so bright I have to look away.
[21:58.858]Blinking away the glaze of tears, I count five more stairs.
[22:03.142]I can see the councilwoman staring at me with her cold grey eyes.
[22:07.530]As I approach, I ball my clammy hands into fists by my sides.
[22:12.206]Every step I take, I can hear an echo.
[22:15.132]I glance around, then realise it's me.
[22:17.666]It's my shoes - they clatter across the stage.
[22:21.323]I feel like a lie. I don't wear shoes like this.
[22:25.476]I'm not a mother, a wife. Yet. Three more steps.
[22:30.858]I look up, and Councillor Corrumpere's pursed mouth breaks into her trademark saccharine smile.
[22:36.918]'We congratulate you, Teddy, on your appointment at Metropolis Magazine.
[22:44.311]You will work with some of the greatest voices of Our City.'
[22:49.169]She extends her hand to me.
[22:51.311]I look out to the crowd, then look back, step forward and take her hand.
[22:56.118]Her grip is uncomfortably firm and her hand is cold, despite all the flesh it's been touching.
[23:02.440]I let go before she does. She doesn't tell or show me where to go.
[23:07.873]'Kyle Reep,' she reads out.
[23:10.851]I look around for the exit, then walk towards the two men beckoning to me sternly from the other end of the stage.
[23:17.669]They don't smile. One of the councillors steps forward and takes my hand.
[23:22.162]I notice a flash but can't see a photographer.
[23:25.297]He lets go, and the other man takes my hand - another flash from the camera.
[23:29.607]I'm sure I must look stunned.
[23:31.697]'Down the stairs,' the second man says, already looking at the kid behind me.
[23:36.242]I step off the stage then walk back to my mother, climbing the stairs up to row 57, to join the elite.
[23:44.758]No one would dare say it, but we know how it works.
[23:48.337]Your family name is the Council's ranking system.
[23:51.445]According to my father, Our Council needed a way to ensure their positions are filled, and using surnames makes overseeing this many people much more manageable.
[24:02.730]I take my seat and Mum pulls me in for a teary hug.
[24:07.197]She doesn't mask her joy. I try smiling, to look as happy as she feels, but I can't.
[24:13.310]'You're so lucky,' she whispers in my ear.
[24:17.176]I wonder how much influence my father had in my new job, set to be working alongside her.
[24:23.419]A high-ranking position for our high-ranking family.
[24:27.259]She sits back and dabs her eyes with a cotton handkerchief.
[24:30.760]I look down towards where I saw that boy go.
[24:33.502]His family don't look happy.
[24:35.723]I don't know if it's the distance or an illusion, but I swear I can see his mother frowning.
[24:41.914]For the remainder of the ceremony, I'm stuck in a loop, watching each parent receive their child with different emotions.
[24:49.698]At one point, Mum squeezes my hand and whispers, 'I'm glad I'll be able to keep you close.'
[24:55.576]I squeeze back. Every family seems to have a different reaction: some are full of joyful tears for their child's new government role.
[25:04.013]Some jobs are obviously expected, the recipient greeted with a clap on the shoulder and a kiss.
[25:10.152]Others are unexpected - gasps of joy when an 'E' family find out their daughter will work in Sanitisation; clenched jaws when a son gets a construction job.
[25:21.698]It takes hours. I think this is the reason they don't call us in alphabetical order.
[25:27.811]Jumping from 'T's' to 'B's' means there's no way to know when we're near the end.
[25:32.226]Finally, the last child is called.
[25:36.118]Councillor Corrumpere smiles at the audience.
[25:39.174]'You may now congratulate Our lucky recipients.'
[25:44.973]The auditorium erupts in applause - genuinely thunderous this time.
[25:49.623]Some people stamp their feet while others clap with their hands above their heads.
[25:54.822]I continue to watch the audience, noticing some people aren't clapping at all.
[25:59.184]My eyes slip back to the sandy-haired boy and his family.
[26:03.285]His mother is gripping his arm like a vice, while his father claps slowly, his eyes squeezed shut.
[26:09.894]Deep down in my stomach, I feel that knot twisting its way back in.
[26:15.040]'You're so lucky,' Mum whispers in my ear, again.
[26:19.246]Following my line of sight, she gives me a look that suggests she knows what I've been thinking.
[26:25.620]I turn my attention back to the now-empty stage, the oversized banner of Our City's Eye gazing over us, always watching.
[26:35.181]My hands start to feel numb, a sensation that quickly spreads through my body.
[26:40.823]The longer we clap, the more I understand.
[26:44.454]None of this is about luck at all.