Tweak

The ring was getting heavier, which was a problem. He could resort to cutting off the finger, if it came to that, but it would take almost a month for the labs to make him a new one and in the mean time he would have to explain to everyone else why he happened to be missing a finger and where his star ring had gotten to. The metal was still adhered to his skin. It was a good thing that, being a genetic, he was excused from walking through metal detectors.

Shin stepped into the ball room of his family’s estate. It wasn’t really a room, the national museum could fit into the place and still have a little room left over to move around in. Two floors, the main one that was laid with a granite slab that had been polished from generations of feet. Three stairwells spiralled upward, each, from the main floor, looking like a DNA strand.

The first floor was the dance floor. There were round tables and seats to the one side, a stage with live, second and third generation music players. Each of whom had signed a confidentiality agreement and would be plugged into their own instruments. The musicians would not be hearing anything that could be used against the genetics. Glass doors to one side of the ball room were thrown open to let in the cool, moonlit night. Always on full moons, did they congregate. Something about the moon drove the tweakers mad, yet at the same time, the option to have an entire family grounds to run rampant on somehow controlled the most unstable.

Servants, backs straight, noses in the air and perfectly made up, came and went from upstairs, transporting food the likes of which Shin had not seen since the last time he had been invited to a gathering. About. Two years previous.

Shin’s job had him travel across the nation, he was often out of town during such a get together, by his own choice. He didn’t like how people called him a runt and eyed him with pity, as if he were something to pity.

“Shin!” Alla, ninth generation head of mothers of his family, beamed at him. She was a glorified nursery maid but because of the alterations to her genetic material, she had no problem with her position.

Each letter of their names meant something, Shin had discovered as he learned his new position. Each letter stood for a tweak, an alteration. Having a shorter name, like Layaent, was highly desired, while having a longer name meant more alterations and thus, that more alterations would be needed for the newer generation. That was why each generation seemed to have a longer name than the one before it, why Meshnan was Meshnan instead of something longer.

Because when Meshnan was born, they could not control light and colour filters in the eyes, they could not alter the treble of the ear nor lengthen the shape of the ear to encourage better hearing. It had not been possible to straighten teeth before birth or alter the immune system of an unborn foetus.

Now it was possible to control everything, right down to the personality quirks. The scientists were getting closer and closer to finding the key to homosexuality, something they boasted quiet loudly. In another four generations, would there be a homosexual? Or would there be a new combination of letters pegged onto the name of one who, without alterations, would have liked their own gender?

“Alla,” he bowed his head just slightly. The nursery maids were the highest authority in the house, they looked after the genetics’ most precious asset, after all -the children. If Alla told the matriarch of the family to jump, the matriarch asked how high.

“Mei,” Alla stepped to the side and glared down at the young boy who was attempting to cling at her dress, “you are six years old, no longer a baby, behave as a member of this house.”

Mei pulled his little fists from Alla’s dress and shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he glared at Shin’s feet. Everyone’s first gathering was memorable, and it seemed that every new child thought that they were the only ones to every have this problem.

“Hello, cousin Shin, my name is Mei,” little Mei did a stiff bow, “I am youngest of tenth generation and my mother was olderest of the otters-”

“Others,” Alla stressed.

“Others, and my father was the oldest of the ninth generation,” Mei bowed again.

“Your father died in an accident, I believe,” Shin murmured, “what happened to your mother?”

“My mother died birthing me.”

“Ah. Such an adorable young man, I’m surprised no one has snatched you up for their own,” Shin looked to Alla who looked away and towards the ground. Which meant that Mei was considered damaged goods, “Mei. Have you ever eaten food before?”

Mei’s head shot up, something in his eyes glinted, his pupils narrowed but were not circles, no, they were just off that shape, caught between a circle and a cat’s eye. When the young boy opened his mouth, his teeth were too animal, though his smile was all young boy. A few physical issues, perhaps.

“No!”

“Perhaps Alla can feed you.”

“Up the steps, Mei,” Alla said, calling after Mei as he bounded up the steps, three at a time.

Three at a time for a boy that age was not possible. Shin looked at Alla who breathed in and then sighed out.

“It has been suspected that someone tampered with him,” Alla murmured quietly, “the boy is completely unnatural, he’s more tweaker than genetic.”

“The difference is the choice and the money you pay, Alla,” Shin whispered back, “so his looks are a little off-”

“He can speak fourteen languages, could talk before he could walk, could read before he could do math and has a strange fascination with religion. The boy is absolutely brilliant in every way possible, he’s like a little adult.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“That is the problem. He was self reliant by the time he could walk, he had teeth after a month. Shin, no one wants a child who is smarter, stronger and faster than they are.”

Shin thought for a moment, “Can someone without children take on a child as an adoptee?” Alla nodded, “then. Can I not take him on?”

“With the way you travel?”

“I have entered second growth, my travel is restricted and by the time the growth finishes, I will no doubt have a breeding partner. My new position requires going over a good deal of data and staying here, at the family house, in case anything is needed, in the chance that.” Shin breathed out, “in the chance that an emergency should arise.”

As in, if the third generations rose up against the genetics and tweakers, Shin would be the one in the city with the virus that would wipe out the population in a matter of hours. He was one of six who would be the one responsible for choosing which generation to kill and thusly, one of six responsible for killing the sixth, seventh and the oldest of the eighth generation.

When the people had protested the widening gap between themselves and the genetics, the obvious differences between themselves and the tweakers, the government had given over control of a majority of their systems to the genetics. In return, the genetics provided free, monitored alterations for every citizen who came to them. The first generation was optional, the second was mandatory, the third, well, the third was so engrained with the glory of genetic manipulation that none of them questioned going to a doctor to get pregnant. They thought that was the way it worked, thought that mankind had always reproduced in such a manner.

While the people rejoiced in their stronger, smarter, quicker prodigies, the genetics began to worry. The tweakers were bound to the genetics by contracts and traditions, by generations of genetics marrying into the tweakers. The people had no such connection to the genetics and so the genetics had sat down and found a way to control the people, an ultimate control, a master switch that was triggered by a virus.

There were four viruses prepared. Three would wipe out a specific generation, the fourth would weaken the entire population until they obeyed and were thusly administered the vaccine. Half way through eighth generation the genetics realised that such a virus would also wipe out their own, and began alterations that would prevent the new generations from being affected by any of the viruses.

“I will look into it. Goodness knows I cannot care for him forever, I am not permitted children of my own so I would have to turn him out. If I turn him out, the tweakers will take him in and that is not verily fair to him, now is it? To be made a servant because we are afraid of him.”

Shin could only nod and smile as a female and her tweaker guard approached, “if you would kindly excuse me, Alla.”

“Of course,” Alla looked over her shoulder before she curtsied to Shin and walked to the steps.

Shin smiled at the pair as they pulled to a stop exactly six feet away from him. Out of arm’s length but close enough to have a quiet conversation. The woman was nearly as tall as the male, with hair the colour of a bloody sunset and eyes greener than leaves. Her complexion was fair with a spattering of freckles across the bridge of her delicate nose. The hair was pulled back and what must have been her bangs, long and grown out, wrapped around the high positioned pony tail. The hair showed off her neck, which was bared, and thusly allowed Shin to smell her. A strong woman, good heartbeat and ready to breed.

It must be Uwahn, he decided in an instant.

Her guard was tall, seven foot some odd with hair all different shades. His hair looked like he had medium brown as a natural colour and had walked through a sunlight forest, then dyed his hair to match the way shadow and light hit his head. Eyes, too blue to be natural, turned to an almost gray as they narrowed and looked him up and down. There was a star ring, a fake one, on the guard’s left middle finger, as his only adornment.

It was one of the only pieces of jewellery acceptable and it was accepted because Taya had found some obscure law that would permit her brothers and sisters to wear it. As a symbol of their genetic background, something about being like the Emperor and thus such jewellery was a part of their heritage.

Dressed in a well cut, black suit and tie with a white shirt, the man was an average height for a tweaker but broader in the shoulder and hips. He carried more muscle on his frame and little flesh in his face. Nice cheekbones and a strong jaw line. The guard opened his mouth and breathed in, revealing the barest amount of teeth possible. It was an animalistic gesture, but one that Shin did not perceive as a threat. The male was simply testing Shin’s scent. Perhaps they had met before, perhaps the guard noticed Shin’s second growth period through his smell alone.

Perhaps the star ring changed a person’s smell.

Shin tugged those thoughts tight and close and smiled at Uwahn, bowing his head just slightly. He held his hands away from his sides and kept his head bent, but turned it just so, so that he could watch the male relax. When Shin straightened, the male looked away and Uwahn was frowning at him.

“Why do you greet him as if he is equal to me?”

“Because,” Shin murmured, “he is larger than I am. A smart male knows when a woman is above him and when said woman’s companion is more dangerous than the woman.”

Uwahn didn’t smile, but the guard’s lips twitched upward.

“My name is Uwahn, I have come into my breeding time and my family has suggested I take you as a suitor,” her nose was in the air, her shoulders pushed back and she was angled away from him. There was no hidden meaning in the words, she made no fluttering with her hands, they were clasped before her, tightly, as if she were trying hard not to make some sort of implication.

“Then you must know, that my name is Shin. I am a runt of my generation, the only one born, said to be a throwback to,” Shin grinned, “at least a fifth generation. I have very recently entered my second growth period. I will be able to breed in a few years.”

“You smell different,” the guard muttered.

“I beg your pardon?” Shin asked, “have we met before?”

“My name is Ash, of the tweakers, I am an officer of the law,” the little pause there as Ash’s eyes drifted down to Shin’s ring made Shin’s blood run cold. But a moment later Ash met Shin’s eyes once more, an apologetic little bow of the head before the tweaker continued, “oldest of my family, but not my clan. I have power and am in firm control of it. I register as a Bashtien.”

“Bash…” Shin shook his head, “I am unfamiliar with any terms they give to registered power users, as I have little use of such words myself.”

“A Bashtien,” Uwahn spat out, “is a fighter and is the only term given to power users besides mutt and useless. You are to be speaking to me, not to my guard.”

“You must pardon my rudeness, Uwahn, I did not mean to be snide, nor to ignore you,” Shin’s hands moved away from his sides once more, “but your body is angled away from me and your hands carefully stilled, I had assumed-”

“Never assume,” Uwahn hissed out, “that is the problem with your family, they always assume. Ash, I am done of your services, I shall no longer be speaking with this mutt.”

Uwahn walked off, every line of her screaming annoyance even though she stepped carefully, trying not to betray any more than annoyance. Shin was left staring after her, mouth dropped open. Ash’s lips pressed into a very thin line, the male’s jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed down to pinpricks.

“Is she permitted to speak to simply anyone like that?” Shin asked Ash.

“I am not here to make comment on my fund family,” Ash said quietly, “I am here to ensure that the honour of a possible breeder is kept in one piece.”

The male’s body told a different story. He was upset and the small bit of red to his cheeks clearly stated that he was thoroughly embarrassed for Uwahn. Shin let go of his control just a bit and felt the emotions roiling off of the male like fog off a swamp. He was disgusted that one genetic would talk to another like that, especially when she so desperately needed his money.

Ash let out a huff, drawing Shin firmly back into physical reality.

“If you would please excuse me,” Ash said quickly.

“Of course, you are excused,” Shin nodded and Ash took his leave.

The metal of his ring buzzed against his flesh. Shin breathed in through his mouth and tasted third generation a moment before he saw the young woman with wheat coloured hair smile at Ash. She was gorgeous, a gem amongst the third generations and average amongst the tenth generations filled the hall. Her hair alone made her worth breeding.

Shin made a note to try to find out who the woman was. Perhaps he could procure her genetic material so that the scientists could discover how that uniquely coloured hair had come about.

It would be a very noticeable, and loved, addition to his family’s genetic banks.


***

Ash stepped up to Bri, “The male behind me.”

Bri smiled at Ash and looked over his shoulder, then away, “The one with the pretty face? Is he a runt? He’s almost as short as I am.”

“He’s supposed to be, but he’s entered his second growth recently. Sometimes runts come out of the second growth larger than the rest of us. He is the one I was escorting the woman to.”

“Oh, Sh-”

Ashe gave Bri a look that stopped her immediately, “you can have almost any conversation you want about a genetic or tweaker, while they are standing right by you, so long as you do not mention their name. Something about being able to have a private conversation in a full room. Smart genetics. Don’t look, don’t turn your body toward him, do not say his name.”

“More rules.”

“A suspect. That ring on his finger isn’t new.”

“So?”

“It’s battered and worn,” Ash murmured, “one of the females from his family began the tradition, she gives a new ring to each person. None of his other generational siblings are missing their ring, nor do they have new rings. His family is one of the few that still has enough money to be considered vastly rich.”

“Maybe it’s a prop or something, but noted,” Bri murmured, “What’s a generational sibling? Or an. A…” she winced as her stomach growled loudly.

“Olderest?” Ash motioned for Bri to move towards the stairs. As they walked up and to the tables of food, he spoke to her, “An olderest is the first born of the opposite sex of the oldest of a generation. Each generation has the oldest, each family has an oldest, amongst the families and lines, they tend to say that they are the oldest child of such and such. To say they are the oldest child means that they are of their family. The oldest of all is called elder child.”

“So. If the oldest of a family is male, the olderest is female?”

“It was found to be only fair. Most first born are male, thus the females were not represented.”

“But that would be sexual choice, the genetics have always claimed that,” Bri sighed, her voice dropping as she realised, “they were leaving the gender up to nature.”

“They do, in a way. They chose the cells that will make the egg male and then they sit back and let nature do the work instead of injecting it directly. The genetics try not to allow anything to be a case of nature.”

“That’s another one!”

“A case of nature is where something happens that can’t be explained. Sexual preference, fetishes, power, why I am this tall when they programmed me to be taller. Cases of nature. There’s no explanation for the occurrence of a thing,” Ash stopped at one of the tables and picked up a clean plate.

Bri picked up her own plate, “you know, talking to you guys is like learning a whole knew language.”

“A generational sibling is a family’s generation. His family are different from my fund family and they are referred to as such. Just like how we separate the generations. There are stereotypes for each generation and such.”

Bri added various items to her plate and nodded. Ash watched her look up and down the food tables. She watched the others speaking to one another and, as she did, Ash realised that the gap between the genetics and the common people was larger than he believed.

Down the line, three pre-teens were having an avid conversation about puberty and how the hormones would affect their rational thinking. Two thought they should take the medications available to put puberty off for a few more years so that they could rise higher in the ranks of their given companies. The third disagreed, saying that it was best to get puberty over with earlier in life, rather than later on when one was a higher rank, and thus had more responsibilities.

The conversation was done entirely in hand motions.

Not the sign language that people used, it was a cross between that and the motions that the genetics made in the natural course of the conversation, altered by ten generations and then softened so that a ten year old who was learning four different languages could learn it on the side.

Bri turned from the pre-teens and gave Ash a tight lipped smile, “perp is stuffing his face.”

“What?” Ash looked over Bri’s shoulder and spotted the runt of a male standing just past the pre-teens. He hadn’t even bothered with a plate, was eating straight from the table. The motion drew the attention of several tweak females around the young male. Eating with a wanton abandon was a good way to get oneself mauled by the opposite sex, “idiot.”

“The others seem quite interested in him.”

“Those going through a growth eat like that and he’s obviously going through his second growth. Once that period of your life starts, you’re free game for everyone,” Ash muttered, looking away as the male looked at Bri, “look away.”

Bri turned towards the stairs and picked a vegetable off of her plate. She nibbled on the vegetable and tried not to look too interested in the food. The males around her peaked at the female who was eating but looked away when they realised that she was a third generation. If she had gorged herself on the food, then they might have been interested. Thankfully few seemed actually interested in a third generation, despite her wheat coloured hair.

“There, the young woman there,” Bri shifted away from the genetics female who was a head above the others.

Ash looked at the female, “that’s the tenth elder,” he shifted away as the female’s gray eyes darted from her conversation companion and to him, “the ring on her finger is not new, she has had it for nearly five years. With enough of the tenth coming of age, the rounds of breeding have begun.”

“I can tell from the swell of her belly and the way she holds herself,” Bri muttered.

“That’s a balloon.”

“What?” the word came out in a strangled cough.

“Not a child’s balloon, but you’ve seen women who seeking a child, they get bloated. That’s because a balloon is inserted and it collects the eggs. Thus the eggs can be removed safely without damaging mother or progeny.”

“No one swells that much.”

“She is elder, they harvest all of her eggs and then sell to the highest bidder. It’s the way newgens have gained trust amongst the genetics. A good deal of money is spent on the first born of each family. Layaent, the one coming up the steps now, has been seeking a breeding contract with the elder. He favours her and she favours him. But the families don’t like the idea of the oldest of two families coming together and essentially keeping others from getting the blood.

“Layaent had to settle for-”

“I did not settle,” Layaent growled loudly, stepping right up beside Bri. The male breathed in Bri’s scent and then stepped away, “well, she was not my first choice, but she is gorgeous and has good breeding. I am honoured to have her as a breeder. You wanted to speak to me, Ash?”

“Your generational sibling has upset a lady of my house,” Ash murmured.

This was the way breeding pairs were set up amongst the lower ranked of the generations. Ash could set up a breeding partner for anyone in his family, he could suggest and barter and trade. The scientists would make the pairings work. The only contracts the families cared about were the oldest of each family and the youngest. Everyone in between aimed to be paired with the oldest or youngest of the family. Those unlucky enough to be the in between were up for debate.

Ash’s father wanted the fund family to stop dipping into his pockets. He wanted them back on their feet and with their own money and their own capabilities again. Thus each tweaker had been told to pair off the fund family with those who would pay the most for the contract.

“My…” Layaent frowned, “the only one I agreed to pair off was Shin.”

“I believe that was his name.”

“Shin is my younger brother,” Layaent murmured, looking to Bri, then Ash. The male was curious about Ash’s companion.

“This is Bri, she is my mentor for my career as an officer of the law, un-registered division.”

“Is her ring made of something different?” Bri asked Layaent, meaning the elder’s ring.

“No,” Layaent turned and looked at the elder, “though it is a different colour. Perhaps I should speak with her before my sister realises that it is not the ring given to her.” he turned his attention back to Ash, “she insisted on giving the elder a ring the same as she gave the rest of us. My sister can be quite,” Layaent turned towards Bri, “ferocious when she sets her mind on something.”

“Has anyone been acting weird around here?” Bri asked.

“Are you investigating my family?” Layaent looked from Bri, then to Ash and back to Bri, “without a warrant I need not give you information of any kind and I find your forthrightness, while admirable, quite out of place.”

Layaent walked off. Ash frowned after the male and the seeming open invitation to follow him. Having little time to contemplate, he tapped Bri’s wrist and made a small motion. Ash followed Layaent down the steps and out of the ball. The stone path led to the main house, which was very close to the ball hall. Inside the house Layaent turned right and passed several doors before he stopped.

Ash held out an arm and stopped Bri, his ears cringed for a moment before he recognised the sound muffling vibrations that genetics used to keep tweakers from hearing too much. Layaent glanced over his shoulder, a quick look that told Ash to stay where he was, and entered a study.

The moment the door closed, Bri stepped around Ash, crossed her arms and gave him a look.

“Layaent and I are companions.”

“Friends, you mean.”

“Genetics and tweakers are not allowed to be friends,” Ash murmured, “I’ve often invited him to after parties, he is a trustworthy companion. Being the oldest of the family, his is all but guaranteed the position of head of the house, if he is still alive when the time comes.”

“Is he actually going to give us information?” Bri asked, her voice lowered to the barest breath.

“Yes, I believe he is about to divulge something. But no doubt he wants a trade in return. No matter the barter, the deal that he puts on the table, allow me to handle it. This is not the precinct, the laws of the commoners do not apply to us when we are on the genetics’ grounds.”

“Why, what is he going to want?”

“Sex. All I have to trade him is sex.”


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