'Untitled Novella - Chapter 1' by Steven Hardy

This is the unedited first draft of an opening chapter of a futuristic, politically intertwined novella I am beginning to write (and if I get any spare time hopefully finish!) I have experimented with a narrator who is involved within the text and story line, this is new to me so may lack fluency in areas; however, with time and editing I hope to iron it out. With this being a first draft the grammar and syntax is not great, try to look past that and divulge into the storyline. It is set in the Twenty-Third Century, so I had loads of fun trying to create my interpretation of the future (which unfortunately looks rather bleak) the ideas and premises are a ‘bit out there’ but that’s the joy of futuristic/sci-fi/dystopian writing. Enjoy!’

Chapter 1

   It was cold; Darren was cold, Miranda was colder. They were holding each other’s hands limply, as they sat inside the clinic’s waiting room, watching the downpour outside. Since they, the government, tried sending that rocket into the atmosphere to stabilise the weather, all it ever did was rain nowadays; ironic really. The twenty-third century does not really offer much by way of aesthetics. No more countryside – oh no, that was gone by the end of the twenty first. All we have is flats; grey, square apartments within a grey, square world. The world was now united under one federal government, called the ‘United Alliances for the People’ to be frank they were anything but, they were corrupt, greedy and powerful; a dire combination. Apart from oppressing the people and starting wars amongst themselves, they did contribute one thing to society. See, they were appalled by the amount of divorces in the twenty first century, it was shameful. Of course, those who lived in the twenty first century did not find it shameful – but it was. One day ‘Oh, I love you!’ the next day ‘Get out of my sight!’ two very different exclamations. Where was loyalty? They asked themselves this and concluded something ought to be done, so using the developments in science at the time, they did something. About the only thing of significance the government have done, they enforced the ‘Matrimonial law’. The Matrimonial law cites that all couples wishing to be married must undergo a MRC injection. An MRC injection is a Micro Robotic Cell injection. This is where Micro Robotic Cells are injected into each partner’s body and these cells are linked chemically; the low down essentially is if you hurt your partners feelings, you will hurt. If you are happy, your partner is happy. If you are sad, your partner is sad. If you stray more than fifty metres from your partner, you will die. So, these are the premises for getting married.

   A smart person might ask themselves, so why get married? Is not the life of a bachelor more desirable anyway? Well, if you have not tied the knot or ‘prepped the needle’ as they call it nowadays by twenty years of age, the government will do for you. Oh, yes they will hunt you down using your PID tag. A PID tag, by the way, is a Personal Identity tag the government bestow upon you at birth. Think of it as a christening gift – it allows them to track your every movement and store all of your data on a database. So anyway, they will find you and catch you and scan the database for a potential partner, insert the needle and the rest, as they say, is history. Voila! You have a new spouse! So your options are get married or get married? Well then, at least try to do it for love. That’s what Darren and Miranda did. For you information, Miranda prefers to be called Mira, personally I prefer Miranda, but my opinion is moot. So we re-join Darren and Mira inside the clinic waiting to get married… 

   ‘Do you remember how we met Darren?’ asked Miranda.

   ‘Yes, we were young and grew up together, your parents were killed in the Civil war over Ireland and my family took you in. We grew up together like brother and sister’

   ‘Darren?’

   ‘Yes’

   ‘Do you love me?’ Darren took her hands in his, they were trembling and looked her in the eyes, they were so deep and blue and he sighed. He knew the next words out his mouth would shape their future, but then again he did not want to lie. He paused for thought, for what seemed like a short lifetime before:

‘Mr and Mrs Turl, for the Matrimonial injection’ the doctor called.

   ‘Us’ Darren called with a vague wave of his hand. He stood up to follow the doctor and as he did he glimpsed the hurt and fear etched into Mira’s face, but she still held his hand.

The doctor was a small bald man, who smelt like he just swam through a sea of coffee; he led them down a long white corridor with doors lining both signs, these were small booths where matrimony is cemented. Number twenty three – the doctor stopped at number twenty three, he opened the door and ushered them in.

   ‘May you have a long and happy marriage’ he said hollowly, and closed the door behind him.

Mira’s hand had tightened its grip on Darren, as they looked into each other’s faces; their young nineteen year old faces, yet their minds betrayed an older age. Well I suppose that is what happens when the government takes away your childhood, here sit this exam; here pass this test and endless torrent of not living up to expectations. Well of course – we feel older than we are Godammit!

   ‘Hello, I am Dr Hugo, I will oversee your marriage ceremony; do you have any family members who wish to view the ceremony. If so please tell me their PID number and I can set up a video conference for you’

   ‘Err – we have nobody who wants to watch’ Darren spoke, as he exchanged nervous glances with his bride to be. Mira had no parents and Darren’s father in a fit of rage murdered Darren’s mother with a knife and therefore through the micro robotic cells killed himself. So Darren and Mira had nobody in the world – bar each other.

   ‘Well then’ Dr Hugo said, ‘I have entered your details into the system, you are ready to be married. Mr Darren, if you would kindly take your seat and you over there next to him Miss Miranda,’ he gestured with his hand towards two chairs that sat back to back in the centre of the room

   Darren sat down upon the hard plastic chair; it had an awful lot of restraints on it and on the right arm of the chair was mounted a small stainless steel gun shaped device with an almighty needle out the end of it. Darren swallowed hard, but found his throat was dry.

   ‘Do not worry Mr Darren and Miss Miranda, the procedure is not painful, the restraints are merely to ensure that you do not move and the injection occurs smoothly’ he loaded what appeared to be a small round into the gun, it had a clear exterior and a dark green liquid inside it; he did the same to Miranda’s gun and slowly began to work strapping them in. He started with their arm right arm and then their torso and then their legs, until they were strapped in, like a child on a rollercoaster with that horrible bittersweet, happy-scared oxymoron surging through their minds. Darren began to sweat, and he was sure Mira was too. Well this is it no turning back now; Darren looked at the ceiling, Mira bore her eyes into her knees.

   ‘Are you ready? Then let’s begin’ Dr Hugo recited like a sickly story, ‘we are gathered here today to witness the bondage of Mr Darren Turl to Mrs Miranda Turl. May you love each other through sickness, health, happiness and sorrow now and forever, Mrs Miranda do you take Mr Darren to be your Husband to love and cherish?’

   ‘I do’ she panted, almost before the words left the Doctors lips.

   ‘Mr Darren do you take Mrs Miranda as you wife, to love and hold forever?’

   Silence, a tenuously tangible moment passed. Time stood still for Darren, he began to lose focus and feel dizzy. He felt his world collapsing around him and the clinic closing in on him, he felt sick, sickeningly sick.

   ‘I – do’ he whispered, through clenched teeth.

   ‘By the power invested in me by the government of the United Alliance of the People, I now pronounce you man and wife, Mr and Mrs Turl’ and with that he pressed a small green button on the side of the chair and the needles began to move.

   Darren began to panic and fight the straps that held him captive, but the Doctor had fastened him down securely. He tried to scream but nothing escaped his lips, so this is what it felt like to be paralysed by fear. Meanwhile, Mira had given up resisted, she was slumped over, even though the straps made her look like she was sitting up, either way, she sat their awaiting the inevitable. The needle pierced their veins at the same time. This time Darren found his voice, he screamed and screamed until his lungs were sore. All the while Mira sat then in silence. The MRC felt like creatures inside Darren, he could feel them exploring his body and multiplying and dominating his every orifice. The initial burst of MRC’s into their forearms felt like a cool lubricant, which quickly burned up inside them.

   ‘No need to worry’ Dr Hugo was speaking, ‘It takes a while for the MRC’s to settle, this burning sensation you feel will go away’

   It was little comfort to them. If that earlier pause felt like eternity, this felt like two eternities the anguish went on and on. Darren’s cold sweat had covered the chair and the veins in his neck stuck out from straining against the pain so hard. But Mira remained perfectly still, her face still engraved with the stress of dealing with the pain. And just as soon as this angry fire began to consume the inside of this skin, it subsided, it was over, and they were married. The both sat there panting, completely exhausted, you would have thought from the noises they made that they had just consummated their marriage, but alas they only just got married. As if to confirm this fact, Dr Hugo announced: ‘Congratulations on your marriage’ and printed them off the certificate confirming this fact.

   Slowly, he began to unstrap them and as soon as they could they gathered their things and left the clinic. Dr Hugo quickly, pushed a manual into their hands before they left, ‘The Governments Guide to Marriage and the MRC’ without a backwards glance Darren and Miranda left the clinic, now a married couple.