Humanity on Trial

4th April

'The Civil War is Over' announced the papers. What the rebels had to fight about, though, I never understood. My neighbour said they were probably hiding all kinds of diseases. I read the paper with an overwhelming sense of relief: always hated fighting of any kind. Even when I was a child I would not play-fight with my younger brother. It used to infuriate him when I refused to join in, putting down the plastic sword and insisting that we played cards instead. If Jim wanted something then he got it, but only after I had the toy I had preferred all along. I realise now that it is a childish notion that violence can always be avoided. But finally, the war was over and we could all focus on what was important.

11th April

I always find it hard to write around this time. The national holidays are over now, although they are always marked with solemnity. Our Block lit candles in the yard and those of us who were religious said prayers. My hope in religion had gone during the Blight of ’91 and the only thing that rekindled my hope was my work. Yesterday evening, my mind kept lingering on my mum and brother’s smiling faces. For some reason I always remember them as they were the day my brother qualified. They looked so smart at the ceremony, and it was preferable to remember their faces before they were bloated and ravished by the plague which stole many a mother, father and sibling. My mum had squeezed my hand as Jim stepped onto the stage before clapping so loudly her hands must have stung. I remember his sheepish grin as he accepted his certificate.

Lighting my own candle in the living room, I said a few words. Not a prayer, but a promise to them.

14th April

Work was taxing. We had recently been notified of a new Trial. Gathering participants was easy, of course, but we needed to make all the preparations. Unlike before, there was no need for the tedious and often long-winded reviews and committees. We simply needed the justification from the governmental department, and we were in motion. Gone are the days of delay.

We are never told what is being tested or why. The Trials all must be critical in ensuring our society is protected from any potential outbreak, or we would not be doing them. I could not help wondering if some newly accepted rebels had poisoned the sanctity of our immunised society. You can never be too careful.

Lily, Jack and I had prepared the hall for the participants. We had each been assigned a room to check-in each one. With our technology this should not take long. One of the first was an elderly man, probably around seventy-five. He sat obediently on the stool in the corner.

“Your locket please?” I asked. His wrinkled hands fumbled to his neck and with juddered movement he took the heart-shaped necklace off and handed it to me. His pale blue eyes locked with mine as he asked me, “Will it be painful?”

“I highly doubt it.” Whilst I walked over to the table, I asked our scripted questions. “Do you have your subscription letter with you?”

He raised one bent finger in the air. “Yes, I think I have it here. I was surprised to get it. I thought the Trial calls stopped once you reached 70?” He pulled a crumpled piece of paper out from his trouser pocket. I took it, smoothed it out with the back of my hand and checked the Trial call number before handing it back.

“The government has upped the age. We need all the help we can get.”

He grunted.

Opening the locket, I walked to the central table and spreading the two heart-shapes I placed it into the corresponding groove in the middle of the table. There was a whirr and the screen in the corner lit up and scrolls of information flashed across it so fast I could barely make out if they were numbers or letters. Finally, it went blank and then shone a brilliant green.

“All good.” I handed it back to him and he hesitated before putting it back on, so that the heavy locket rested against his boney chest.

“The Trial will only last a day, so not a long one,” I reassured him. “You may experience some side effects. If so, you should let the nurse know. Please,” I indicated that he should follow me out and I led him into the hall.

The other participants ranged from around five to sixty years old and most seemed thrilled at making the Trial call, if a little anxious. I repeated that there was no need to be nervous. In the other room, I could hear Lily giving similar pacifying speeches, mainly to the mothers of the children selected, regurgitating the same spiel I have heard her give time and time again.

Giving these speeches tomorrow will be much harder.

15th April

I was too weary to finish writing last night.

Yesterday, the nurses distributed the pills to each person, providing a small glass of water. The ticking clock above marked the seconds as we waited and watched our cohort. Regulations stated that we must observe them for 20 minutes for any side effects. Although, the comprehensive real-time health data provided by the lockets should minimise anything untoward from happening. That being said, as with all technology, the lockets were not faultless. I wished I had the scientific training Jim received. Or even some modicum of an understanding in computer programming to appreciate the scanning technology.

The scraping of a chair against the stone pierced my ear and my eyes darted to see the elderly man I had scanned in fall to the ground. Through the panic, my first aid training kicked in. I jumped off my chair and raced towards him, pushing everyone else out of the way and demanding space. I kept thinking, this is what we had trained for, as I put him into the recovery position and one of the nurses came over to check his pulse. Passing my hand over my sweaty face I tried to keep my composure. Those around me looked fearful. But, did they not realise that this would be a low price to pay to ensure our society’s safety? Of course, it would be a tragedy but one with a purpose.

The man’s blue eyes flashed into my mind, although his remained closed as he lay limp on the floor below me. Everyone’s gaze was on me as I ran to the side door to alert the other staff. The rest of the attendants had barely moved. At first, I thought this was through shock, but I saw the pity in Lily’s eyes and realised that they, unlike me, had reconciled with the inevitable. I rallied myself. This can happen. It did not change the reality of the threat we were all facing; had already faced. Just as I called for someone to bring a stretcher, the man’s eyelids flickered and the nurse confirmed she had found a pulse. Inwardly breathing a sigh of relief, I yelled for everyone to return to their seats. All returned to their chairs, bar one.

A boy lay motionless on the floor. He could not have been any older than ten.

I would be lying if I said my resolve did not waver that day. The others saw this as a necessary part of the process.

“This is what these Trials are for,” Jack kept saying afterwards. The others nodded and I found my head involuntarily nodding along with them.

The report was filed, the body removed, and the other participants signed up to secrecy.

That evening I delicately touched the locket which sat cold against my own skin.

“Diary found following bombing of Department E Block by soldier during the Second Civil War. Book quarantined for the required 72-hour period in case of contamination and displayed at the Municipal Hospital archive as a reminder of how fear can define morality.”