Eye of the Beholder
folder
Original - Misc › Science Fiction
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,101
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Original - Misc › Science Fiction
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,101
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Eye of the Beholder
Eye of The Beholder
IX.
Miron left Nate sitting in the bar with his cup of coffee, refusing to discuss the matter in public. As Miron walked outside, the cool, all too familiar Quarter City air, thick with fumes sent a comforting shiver down his spine. Were they really ready for a child? Part of him yearned to have a child – to care for a human being who saw himself as the most important thing in its life. He watched as two men walked up to their car across the street. The dark haired one climbed into the driver’s side and the other cooed over the child he was holding in his arms, before placing it in the back seat. Miron could picture himself, holding a baby lovingly in his arms. Was he moving too slowly, or was Nate moving too fast? Or was he just too careful? Too measured and precise? Too dull and typical - doing what was expected of him like everyone else in this dull, grey world, instead of taking life and saying sod everyone else; I’m going to make the most of mine? That’s what drew him to Nate. He had such a thirst for everything. Miron had been drawn to him, addicted. But lately things had become stale. They only spoke if it was out of necessity and they didn’t talk like they used to – about the colour of the sky or the smell of skin – the most simple, insignificant things. Miron often suspected that Nate wanted a child purely to bring something exciting, new and wonderful back into their lives, but what sort of person do you have to be to buy a baby just to revive a relationship? He didn’t think he had that in him. He sighed, not at all sure what he wanted anymore.
He headed towards their flat, knowing Nate would follow later, so they could finish their discussion, or argument, rather. Miron walked down street after street, lined with nothing but houses and cars, the dank, dull colours making him feel grim. It was then, that out of the corner of his eye from across the street, something bright jumped out at him from the mass of grey, brick buildings.
Something he had only seen on encyclopedia chips. He thought they were extinct. They used to be given as a gifts, but the changing climate, as well as the government’s penchant for building houses on every square inch of land soon quashed that. But there it stood, against the side of 23-E in the Beta District on its own, as proud as anything. It was beautiful. How had nobody else noticed it? Miron looked around, to find the whole street empty of life.
He crossed the road and knelt down. The colour glowed against the dark bricks, and Miron’s mood was instantly lifted. The colour was that of the skin of a newly incubated baby. Smooth, creamy, soft, and sexual, like apricots dipped in yoghurt, the colour of immortality, succulent, juicy, ripe, mellow, sweet, vague, comforting, desire. The colour of slightly sunburnt skin. The edges were laced with pink. Warm pink. Tongue pink. Sexy pink. Rich pink. The vibrancy made his skin flush, the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He felt warm.
The smell invaded his senses, washing over him like a wave. Sunshine, the faintest hint of vanilla, a fresh sweetness, untainted by the polluted air. A man rushed past – he could tell by the heavy scuffle of footsteps – and Miron smelt both a man’s and woman’s aftershave. He raised an eyebrow. A woman? He shuddered, as light tingles ran up his spine like spiders legs. A good shudder – a myriad of sensations like nails scraping down his spine and a feather tickling a path back up.
VIII.
Officer Beta 46-T sat in The Metropolitan Network Tower looking at screen 92. A hunkering man left a building belonging to a Miss R. Fitzherald and scuffled off down towards the Beta District. The Officer’s eyes narrowed, suspiciously and he made note of the ‘incident’ in his log book. His focus moved to screen 94 – the man in the white shirt on 23-E had been crouching on the pavement for some time now, apparently staring at the wall. Beta 46-T frowned, zooming in on the surveillance camera to check that he up to any trouble. The officer stared at the screen for a moment before he realized what the man was looking at. “Superior Alpha 32-G, Sir. I think we have a problem down in District 23-E.” Alpha 32-G walked over and watched screen 94 for a few moments. “Superior, Sir, is that…a flower?”
“It is, Officer. I want you to get hold of a team from the science lab for a quarantine mission and have ten officers on standby if this man causes any problems. ”
“Sir? Don’t you think that’s a bit drastic? I mean-”
“-Officer. It is not your place to question my authority. Flowers have been extinct for hundreds of years. Do you understand what it could mean if they are growing here again? Superior Alpha 32-G’s dark grey bore into Officer Beta 46-T, “Make sure nobody proceeds any further than standby status unless I give the order or unless he tries to destroy the flower.”
VII.
Two sets of feet, clicking like the second hand of an old fashioned clock in hyper-speed, headed in his direction. It was a couple, he guessed. Women. The short, fast paced steps gave it away. That and the sound of high heels – the slight delay between the heel clicking and the flat of the shoe slapping loudly onto the ground. Click. Slap. Click. Slap. Click. Slap. Click. Slap. Miron didn’t turn to look. His breathing grew faster, his heart beating harder inside his chest. He imagined one woman pulling the other along by the hand, their hair flapping wildly about their faces. Were they running away from something? Or to something? Maybe they had just received the news that their little bundle of joy was ready for collection at the farm. Maybe they’re so excited about seeing their new arrival, that walking at a normal pace seems far too slow. Click. Slap. Click. Slap. Click. Slap. Click. Slap. Click. Slap.
The flower - it looked like lots of babies curled up into one tiny invisible orifice. Babies in those big clear plastic boxes at the incubator farms, not quite properly formed yet. Not quite developed. Like flaps of skin bundled together by invisible length of ribbon. His mouth suddenly filled with saliva. The rippled, creamy cheeks glowed, the sporadically rouched edges looked like a miniscule plate of tagliatelle. Miron’s fingers itched to touch. They twitched with excitement and greed and slowly moved towards it.
VI.
A crowd of Metropolitan Network Officers left their stations and crowded around screen 94 to watch the man with the flower. They were all silent with the tension – the suspense of whether or not this one man was going to cause total frenzy at the Headquarters, could be cut with a knife. On another screen, ten Officers waited in vehicles and a small quarantine team waited for the go-ahead. Superior Alpha 32-G stood with a phone to his ear, prepared to speak at any second.
V.
Miniscule veins ran through its limbs. Did they pulse with thick, red blood? Miron wondered if they throbbed with arousal like his did. If the heart of this flower wept like his did. Miron’s fingers caressed the flesh. His whole body felt tightly coiled like a spring. Throb. Click. Slap. Scuffle. The colour, the smell, touch, the sounds. Charged, aroused, wanton. Short gasps. Trembling. Muscles twitching. Pressure mounting. His insides moving like liquid, each nerve doing somersaults, spasming. His skin flushing. A feeling of fullness. Throb. Click. Slap. Scuffle. His body peaking.
Miron gasped as each and every sense he had experienced, overwhelmed him. Explosions firing in his mind, in his body, from the tips of his fingers to his toes, every which way. Blood frantically pounded through his veins as he tried to catch his breath. Pulsing constantly and furiously against his neck. He reached out to the wall for support but his fingers were clenched around the stem of the flower and it ripped from the ground with a sickening noise.
IV.
“Go! Go! Go!” Superior Alpha 32-G shouted into the phone as soon as the flower was wrenched from the ground. All hell broke loose as the Officers that had crowded around jumped to attention and clambered back to their stations. Scientists were rushing about in preparation for the flower being bought back to Headquarters and Beta 46-T sat watching everything unfold from his station in front of the surveillance screens.
III.
As he calmed down, he heard the distinct sound of sirens from MNO vehicles filling his ears and it was only when they kept getting closer and louder that he looked down at his hand, clutching the flower and realised what he had done. Miron suddenly remembered the cameras connected to the MNO Headquarters. “Shit.” Miron stood up as fast as he could and dropped the flower to the ground like it had burnt him. As he turned, four black MNO vans came hurtling around the corner into the road and Miron ran as fast as he could in the other direction, futilely hoping to outrun them. He didn’t make it five steps before two Officers tackled him to the ground. Miron struggled, but the Officers held him fast. “My name is Officer Gamma 12-K,” Said the Officer to his right, waving his badge in front of Miron’s face, “and you, Sir, are under arrest.” They pulled Miron up from the ground and handcuffed him. As he was escorted over to the nearest MNO van, Miron watched as Scientists with face masks crowded around the fallen flower with cases of strange metal contraptions. More Officers surrounded the scientists - although for what reason, Miron didn’t know – the street was empty.
II.
Miron looked up as the metal vaulted door to his cell was unlocked and opened and there stood Nate.
“Nate…What are you...?”
“I’ve come to bail you out.” Miron smiled and walked over to Nate, giving him an awkward hug, “What the hell is wrong with you, Miron!?” Nate stepped back from him, a less than pleased look set on his face, “I can’t believe you would be so inconsiderate and self-centred. Do you know how long flowers have been extinct for? Do you realise what you might have done? Did you even think…?”
“Self-centred? Nate, I felt like I wasn’t in control of my body – I didn’t know what I was doing.”
“Are you doing this just to get attention? Is it because of the baby thing?” Nate could see the precise moment when Miron snapped. His jaw clenched and his eyes turned cold.
“You know what, Nate? I’m fed up of this. I’m fed up of feeling inadequate. I’m sick of you always finding a way of putting me down. I’m fed up of never being happy. I don’t want a child with you, because I think you just want to bring this relationship back to life and to be honest, I don’t want to bring it back to life.” Nate’s expression was one of guilt, “I don’t want a child in order to fix something that I don’t want fixed. I think this - us - is something that finished a long time ago.” Miron’s last words were nothing but a whisper as he walked past a silent Nate and out of the cell.
I.
Superior Alpha 32-G stood together in an empty lab, with the Chief Scientist, Frank Gallagher. The flower, which they had defined as a budded “Hybrid Tea” Rose lay in an incubator.
“I take it everything is going to plan, Gallagher?”
“Yes, Superior – surprisingly well. As we thought, the chemical found in the “Hybrid” have allowed us to progress to stage two of “The Project” – I predict another few days until we are able to start testing on the embryos, Sir.”
“Good. It’s about time.”
“Don’t worry, Sir. Soon, we’ll be able to alter the genetic makeup of embryos and in time, there won’t be a single civilian with the heterosexual gene.”
“It’s for the best. Free will is a nasty thing, Gallagher. We don’t need civilians running about doing as they wish. It’s best for everyone this way.”
“Of course, Superior.”
“Order is what’s best for Quarter City. All civilians will be the same. Equal. Powerless.”
IX.
Miron left Nate sitting in the bar with his cup of coffee, refusing to discuss the matter in public. As Miron walked outside, the cool, all too familiar Quarter City air, thick with fumes sent a comforting shiver down his spine. Were they really ready for a child? Part of him yearned to have a child – to care for a human being who saw himself as the most important thing in its life. He watched as two men walked up to their car across the street. The dark haired one climbed into the driver’s side and the other cooed over the child he was holding in his arms, before placing it in the back seat. Miron could picture himself, holding a baby lovingly in his arms. Was he moving too slowly, or was Nate moving too fast? Or was he just too careful? Too measured and precise? Too dull and typical - doing what was expected of him like everyone else in this dull, grey world, instead of taking life and saying sod everyone else; I’m going to make the most of mine? That’s what drew him to Nate. He had such a thirst for everything. Miron had been drawn to him, addicted. But lately things had become stale. They only spoke if it was out of necessity and they didn’t talk like they used to – about the colour of the sky or the smell of skin – the most simple, insignificant things. Miron often suspected that Nate wanted a child purely to bring something exciting, new and wonderful back into their lives, but what sort of person do you have to be to buy a baby just to revive a relationship? He didn’t think he had that in him. He sighed, not at all sure what he wanted anymore.
He headed towards their flat, knowing Nate would follow later, so they could finish their discussion, or argument, rather. Miron walked down street after street, lined with nothing but houses and cars, the dank, dull colours making him feel grim. It was then, that out of the corner of his eye from across the street, something bright jumped out at him from the mass of grey, brick buildings.
Something he had only seen on encyclopedia chips. He thought they were extinct. They used to be given as a gifts, but the changing climate, as well as the government’s penchant for building houses on every square inch of land soon quashed that. But there it stood, against the side of 23-E in the Beta District on its own, as proud as anything. It was beautiful. How had nobody else noticed it? Miron looked around, to find the whole street empty of life.
He crossed the road and knelt down. The colour glowed against the dark bricks, and Miron’s mood was instantly lifted. The colour was that of the skin of a newly incubated baby. Smooth, creamy, soft, and sexual, like apricots dipped in yoghurt, the colour of immortality, succulent, juicy, ripe, mellow, sweet, vague, comforting, desire. The colour of slightly sunburnt skin. The edges were laced with pink. Warm pink. Tongue pink. Sexy pink. Rich pink. The vibrancy made his skin flush, the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He felt warm.
The smell invaded his senses, washing over him like a wave. Sunshine, the faintest hint of vanilla, a fresh sweetness, untainted by the polluted air. A man rushed past – he could tell by the heavy scuffle of footsteps – and Miron smelt both a man’s and woman’s aftershave. He raised an eyebrow. A woman? He shuddered, as light tingles ran up his spine like spiders legs. A good shudder – a myriad of sensations like nails scraping down his spine and a feather tickling a path back up.
VIII.
Officer Beta 46-T sat in The Metropolitan Network Tower looking at screen 92. A hunkering man left a building belonging to a Miss R. Fitzherald and scuffled off down towards the Beta District. The Officer’s eyes narrowed, suspiciously and he made note of the ‘incident’ in his log book. His focus moved to screen 94 – the man in the white shirt on 23-E had been crouching on the pavement for some time now, apparently staring at the wall. Beta 46-T frowned, zooming in on the surveillance camera to check that he up to any trouble. The officer stared at the screen for a moment before he realized what the man was looking at. “Superior Alpha 32-G, Sir. I think we have a problem down in District 23-E.” Alpha 32-G walked over and watched screen 94 for a few moments. “Superior, Sir, is that…a flower?”
“It is, Officer. I want you to get hold of a team from the science lab for a quarantine mission and have ten officers on standby if this man causes any problems. ”
“Sir? Don’t you think that’s a bit drastic? I mean-”
“-Officer. It is not your place to question my authority. Flowers have been extinct for hundreds of years. Do you understand what it could mean if they are growing here again? Superior Alpha 32-G’s dark grey bore into Officer Beta 46-T, “Make sure nobody proceeds any further than standby status unless I give the order or unless he tries to destroy the flower.”
VII.
Two sets of feet, clicking like the second hand of an old fashioned clock in hyper-speed, headed in his direction. It was a couple, he guessed. Women. The short, fast paced steps gave it away. That and the sound of high heels – the slight delay between the heel clicking and the flat of the shoe slapping loudly onto the ground. Click. Slap. Click. Slap. Click. Slap. Click. Slap. Miron didn’t turn to look. His breathing grew faster, his heart beating harder inside his chest. He imagined one woman pulling the other along by the hand, their hair flapping wildly about their faces. Were they running away from something? Or to something? Maybe they had just received the news that their little bundle of joy was ready for collection at the farm. Maybe they’re so excited about seeing their new arrival, that walking at a normal pace seems far too slow. Click. Slap. Click. Slap. Click. Slap. Click. Slap. Click. Slap.
The flower - it looked like lots of babies curled up into one tiny invisible orifice. Babies in those big clear plastic boxes at the incubator farms, not quite properly formed yet. Not quite developed. Like flaps of skin bundled together by invisible length of ribbon. His mouth suddenly filled with saliva. The rippled, creamy cheeks glowed, the sporadically rouched edges looked like a miniscule plate of tagliatelle. Miron’s fingers itched to touch. They twitched with excitement and greed and slowly moved towards it.
VI.
A crowd of Metropolitan Network Officers left their stations and crowded around screen 94 to watch the man with the flower. They were all silent with the tension – the suspense of whether or not this one man was going to cause total frenzy at the Headquarters, could be cut with a knife. On another screen, ten Officers waited in vehicles and a small quarantine team waited for the go-ahead. Superior Alpha 32-G stood with a phone to his ear, prepared to speak at any second.
V.
Miniscule veins ran through its limbs. Did they pulse with thick, red blood? Miron wondered if they throbbed with arousal like his did. If the heart of this flower wept like his did. Miron’s fingers caressed the flesh. His whole body felt tightly coiled like a spring. Throb. Click. Slap. Scuffle. The colour, the smell, touch, the sounds. Charged, aroused, wanton. Short gasps. Trembling. Muscles twitching. Pressure mounting. His insides moving like liquid, each nerve doing somersaults, spasming. His skin flushing. A feeling of fullness. Throb. Click. Slap. Scuffle. His body peaking.
Miron gasped as each and every sense he had experienced, overwhelmed him. Explosions firing in his mind, in his body, from the tips of his fingers to his toes, every which way. Blood frantically pounded through his veins as he tried to catch his breath. Pulsing constantly and furiously against his neck. He reached out to the wall for support but his fingers were clenched around the stem of the flower and it ripped from the ground with a sickening noise.
IV.
“Go! Go! Go!” Superior Alpha 32-G shouted into the phone as soon as the flower was wrenched from the ground. All hell broke loose as the Officers that had crowded around jumped to attention and clambered back to their stations. Scientists were rushing about in preparation for the flower being bought back to Headquarters and Beta 46-T sat watching everything unfold from his station in front of the surveillance screens.
III.
As he calmed down, he heard the distinct sound of sirens from MNO vehicles filling his ears and it was only when they kept getting closer and louder that he looked down at his hand, clutching the flower and realised what he had done. Miron suddenly remembered the cameras connected to the MNO Headquarters. “Shit.” Miron stood up as fast as he could and dropped the flower to the ground like it had burnt him. As he turned, four black MNO vans came hurtling around the corner into the road and Miron ran as fast as he could in the other direction, futilely hoping to outrun them. He didn’t make it five steps before two Officers tackled him to the ground. Miron struggled, but the Officers held him fast. “My name is Officer Gamma 12-K,” Said the Officer to his right, waving his badge in front of Miron’s face, “and you, Sir, are under arrest.” They pulled Miron up from the ground and handcuffed him. As he was escorted over to the nearest MNO van, Miron watched as Scientists with face masks crowded around the fallen flower with cases of strange metal contraptions. More Officers surrounded the scientists - although for what reason, Miron didn’t know – the street was empty.
II.
Miron looked up as the metal vaulted door to his cell was unlocked and opened and there stood Nate.
“Nate…What are you...?”
“I’ve come to bail you out.” Miron smiled and walked over to Nate, giving him an awkward hug, “What the hell is wrong with you, Miron!?” Nate stepped back from him, a less than pleased look set on his face, “I can’t believe you would be so inconsiderate and self-centred. Do you know how long flowers have been extinct for? Do you realise what you might have done? Did you even think…?”
“Self-centred? Nate, I felt like I wasn’t in control of my body – I didn’t know what I was doing.”
“Are you doing this just to get attention? Is it because of the baby thing?” Nate could see the precise moment when Miron snapped. His jaw clenched and his eyes turned cold.
“You know what, Nate? I’m fed up of this. I’m fed up of feeling inadequate. I’m sick of you always finding a way of putting me down. I’m fed up of never being happy. I don’t want a child with you, because I think you just want to bring this relationship back to life and to be honest, I don’t want to bring it back to life.” Nate’s expression was one of guilt, “I don’t want a child in order to fix something that I don’t want fixed. I think this - us - is something that finished a long time ago.” Miron’s last words were nothing but a whisper as he walked past a silent Nate and out of the cell.
I.
Superior Alpha 32-G stood together in an empty lab, with the Chief Scientist, Frank Gallagher. The flower, which they had defined as a budded “Hybrid Tea” Rose lay in an incubator.
“I take it everything is going to plan, Gallagher?”
“Yes, Superior – surprisingly well. As we thought, the chemical found in the “Hybrid” have allowed us to progress to stage two of “The Project” – I predict another few days until we are able to start testing on the embryos, Sir.”
“Good. It’s about time.”
“Don’t worry, Sir. Soon, we’ll be able to alter the genetic makeup of embryos and in time, there won’t be a single civilian with the heterosexual gene.”
“It’s for the best. Free will is a nasty thing, Gallagher. We don’t need civilians running about doing as they wish. It’s best for everyone this way.”
“Of course, Superior.”
“Order is what’s best for Quarter City. All civilians will be the same. Equal. Powerless.”