The Immortals

Julie sat at the back of her classroom, just like always. She hated school — and history was the worst lesson of all. Her parents had warned her never to believe what the teachers said about the past.

"History is only written by the winners," her mum always said.

At the front, her miserable old teacher droned on and on and on. He never smiled — not once, and he had never taken a liking to her. Julie knew it wasn’t just about the job. He hated her out of jealousy and all because he couldn’t afford a new body, unlike her parents. She had promised herself that she would never get old like him. Not even out of curiosity.

His croaky voice rattled on about ancient history, about the two-planet conspiracy — again.

“Nearly 1,000 years ago, in 2019, a company called Neurolink successfully created a connection between the mind and a computer. Then, in 2024, the Avatar Program by DARPA developed robotic surrogates for the military to control with only their thoughts. Meanwhile, another initiative was underway — the 2045 Initiative — seeking to transplant human consciousness into stem cell-grown avatars fitted with artificial brains. The next step of human evolution, they said. The key to immortality.”

Julie doodled half-heartedly in her holobook. She could recite this tired lecture in her sleep.

“They finished five years ahead of schedule. With our new bodies, we traveled to Mars, accelerated terraforming, and humanity split across planets. Sky Gates — refueling stations between Earth and Mars — were built to sustain the flow of settlers. Peace flourished for three centuries, until...”

He paused for dramatic effect. Although, everyone was partially asleep so there was nothing dramamtic about it.

“Until the closest Sky Gate to Earth exploded. Debris rained down. Thousands died. Thus began the War of the Worlds.”

Julie smirked and whispered to Rachel beside her, “Nonsense. My mum said we could never live on a planet mostly flooded with water that was so salty we couldn't even drink it. Even us immortals can’t breathe underwater, not yet anyway.”

Rachel didn't laugh. She stared down at her knees as she fidgeted with her hands.

“You okay?” Julie asked.

Rachel glanced around, then whispered, “My mum said... immortals can’t have children. They have to grow them. Like plants.”

She hesitated. “Were you... grown? You are still my best friend even if you are”.

Julie almost recoiled back off her chair. “OF COURSE NOT!” she shouted.

The classroom fell silent.

“Sir, Rachel said immortals can’t have kids and that I was grown!”

The teacher’s face began to turn scarlet. His mouth opened and closed like a fish. Almost comical in a way before he started stammering in a failed attempt to get his words out.

“Erm, well... how shall I put this. We're not really allowed to discuss that. Best... best to ask your parents".

And then he smiled at her in a veiled attempt to reassure her. The first smile she had ever seen come from him and it chilled her to her core.

The rest of the day dragged on. Julie couldn’t focus and Rachel wouldn’t meet her eyes. She barely heard the dismissal bell over the buzz of her own thoughts. Shoving her books into her bag, she pushed her way out into the sunshine, breathing in the crisp and clean manufactured air.

The city stretched out before her, glittering and alive.

Massive towers of glass and white stone curved elegantly into the sky, their surfaces shimmering like water against the sun. Drones zipped past, silent and efficient, delivering parcels and packages to balconies overflowing with vibrant flowers. Above her, magnetic rail lines hummed, ferrying transport pods to every corner of her neighborhood.

Floating gardens drifted lazily between the towers, casting cool, dappled shadows on the walkways below. Children laughed as they raced through holographic playgrounds, their caretakers — AI companions — smiling and encouraging them on. She used to love her AI buddy.

The streets were spotless. Not a crack, not a single scrap of litter. Food stalls handed out fresh fruits and delicacies for free, the scent of the fruit mixing with the flowers filled the air. In every window, polished screens displayed announcements about new advancements: cleaner energy, longer lifespans and plans to develop technology to try and get back to Earth to explore our heritage.

Utopia. A world of perfection that she had enjoyed every second of.

And yet...

Julie hugged her arms around herself as she walked. There was now something too clean about it all. Too perfect.

She caught sight of a man sitting at a bench, his eyes vacant and his frown unmoving. Another woman walked a sleek mechanical dog, but her gaze flickered — hollow, disconnected. No one really looked at each other anymore. No one ever talked unless necessary. And everyone seemed to avoid the immortals. What do her parents do?

She shook the thought away.

It was just her mood and Rachel’s crazy words from earlier getting underneath her skin.

Still, as she turned the corner toward home, she couldn’t shake the feeling that beneath the dazzling perfection, something rotten was growing.

At home, the security door slid open at her biometrics and the familiar surroundings brought a slight bit of comfort, only for a second.

“Welcome home, darling!” her mum called from the lounge.

Her parents were waiting. Her dad is not normally home at this time and yet, they are both sat their, side-by-side with unusual forced smiles. Just like the one her teacher had.

“Your teacher called,” her father said. His voice was too smooth, too controlled. "He said there has been some gossip about you and that we should talk".

“Rachel said something weird,” Julie began. “About... about me. Being grown like a plant.”

Her mother’s laugh didn't have the warmth she remembered. “Sweetheart, children say silly things. You mustn’t believe everything.”

But something was wrong. Julie could see it. In the way her mother’s hand trembled slightly and how her father couldn't keep eye contact with her for more than a few seconds at a time.

“I’m going to my room,” she said.

“Julie—” her mother started, but Julie was already running up the stairs.

Slamming her door as she got into her room, Julie collapsed on the bed to try and gather her thoughts. Her holowatch buzzed.

Rachel: Meet me at Cornerstone Park. ASAP. I found something.

Without thinking, she grabbed her jacket and slipped out her window. The drone sensors would log her departure, but she didn’t care. Heart pounding, she landed on soft synthetic lawn and ran as fast as she could.

Cornerstone Park was empty. Only the whir of maintenance drones trimming the hedges broke the silence.

Rachel stood under the old oak tree, clutching something — a battered old datacube.

“My brother pulled this from restricted archives and it was this I heard them talking about when they said that immortals cannot have kids”.

She put the cube into Julie’s hands.

“You're not the only one. There are hundreds. They grow kids like you... to become hosts when immortals' bodies start to die.”

Julie’s blood ran cold and a lump swelled in her throat.

“No. No, you’re wrong. My parents love me.”

Rachel shook her head, tears welling. “You are not their daughter and you need to run. Come live with me, I can hide you downstairs and they will never find you”.

Footsteps crunched behind them.

“Julie! There you are, sweetheart!”

Her mum was running toward them, breathless and yet her face still filled with that same fake smile.

Rachel backed away, whispering, “Be careful and get ready to run.”

Julie tried to secretly put the datacube in her pocket but her mum was watching intently.

“Come home, darling,” her mother cooed. “Let’s talk about all these silly things.”

“Is it true?” Julie’s voice cracked.

Her mother’s smile flickered. “Of course not. You’re being silly.”

But her hand slid into her jacket pocket and Julie stepped back.

Her mother’s voice hardened. That same stern tone she always uses with dad when he doesn't do one of his chores. “Come. Now.”

“No!” Julie yelled.

In a blur, her mum lunged forward. Julie felt a sharp sting in her neck causing her to gasp and stagger back. The world began to spin violently and she could hear Rachel screaming, however, it sounded like she was under water.

Her legs buckled. Strong arms caught her — house security drones, metal grips that wrapped tightly.

Her mother leaned over her as she sank into darkness, holding a sleek injector pen.

“I told you, darling. You’re too important to lose. We can’t have you damaging me now can we.”

“No... I'm not..." Julie tried to say, but the words slipped away.

“Put her in stasis,” her mother ordered the drones. “We have enough memory similarities now so she will be fine going into a augmented reality life to develop the rest of her neurological networks.”

As Julie’s consciousness faded, she saw drones dragging Rachel away too, kicking and sobbing.

The stars blinked cold and distant above. I was never meant to live my own life, Julie realized.

The last thing she heard was her mother’s whisper:

"Sleep now, sweetheart. Soon, you’ll be perfect."

And then everything went dark.

- The End

I hope you really enjoyed this dark take on possible future events in a utopia style world. The studies mentioned at the start can be researched online and are certainly an interesting read.