Young Writers Society

(A/N: I'm thinking of making a series of short stories about this world, called Seeing Double)

"There’s always one twin that comes out bad. One pure evil, one pure good. It’s just genetics! That’s what the Corporations says." The Midwife had rehearsed her speech a thousand times 

"Twins are a bit of a special case in Suo Yi City. Normal people--that’s all of us in the City-- are birthed, live, and die here, because we’re a perfect mix of good and evil. 50-50. If you’re a twin, though: shipped of to the Northern Compounds if you’re good, Southern ones if you’re bad. Again, Corporation law."

"But how do you know? Which one’s bad and which one’s good?"  An interruption from the abrasive man in the back.

The Midwife took a deep breath and answered as graciously as she could. "You must be from the outskirts of Suo Yi, in the Subs, then."

"Yes, I was born there. I own most of it now."

"Well, the evil ones are always born second. That’s why this set is such a problem."

"What do you mean?"

"Come, I’ll show you."

***

The white-aproned midwife bustled out of the cool nursery and onto a revolving platform, the kind that zipped people left and right like so many high-tech catapults. The tour group she was leading dutifully followed.

Metal arched above them, the shining silver dome a steel tomb with them enclosed in it’s stomach. In the center of Suo Yi City was the soul of the Corporation; pumping out thousands of jobs a year; resembling nothing more than a shiny-white heart; the Birthing Rooms! After all, wasn’t that the Corporation’s motto: Birth is better than life!

And now these wealthy elite--having snagged the golden ticket, had the privileged pleasure of being the first civilians to glimpse the inner workings of what was (in their minds) the most important building in Suo Yi.

It wasn’t of course. The real show was hidden miles beneath the City, the only surface activity a rusty shed blowing in the wind. The midwife smirked as the rich gasped and gaped.

“You see,” she said, raising her voice over the crackling whir of machinery, “this set of children is--well, unusual, to say the least.”

It wasn’t Corporation policy to put mistakes on display; it liked to put forward a polished, perfect front. However, the rich payed well, and the children would soon be dead anyways. Aberrations must be extinguished, after all. Corporation law.

The platform descended, locking into place with a smooth click. The midwife led them on, passing through tunnels and ramps and security checkpoints until they reached a room with a large glass cage, hard as diamond. The nurse put a finger to her lips as the iron door shut behind them in an ominous thud.

Huddled whispers rose as the group clustered around the glass. “What is it?”

“It’s...terrifying!”

“My deity!”

“Make way, make way,” boomed a large man in an ill-fitting suit, breaking the sudden silence. “My wife doesn’t have a good view.” Lou Jin, plasma-screen mogul, dragging his wife Ami behind him. She was a pretty thing, Ami, but fragile; long hair dyed that sort of iridescent green that was so popular in Suo Yi City. The sturdy, dark-haired midwife frowned in disapproval.

A piercing shriek escaped Ami’s lips: her eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed, muttering gibberish. The group drew back in a wave; only the husband and nurse rushed to her side.

“It happens sometimes, to those of delicate disposition,” the midwife explained, with drawing a packet of salts from her pocket. “They see such a terrible thing like this and their system can’t handle it--just goes into shock. There, there, Miss, don’t excite yourself--” For Ami had woken and feebly tried to point at the cage before collapsing-- “It doesn’t mean anything. She’ll be alright in a moment, Mr. Jin, don’t you worry.”

What it really means, the nurse thought, is that Miss Jin here needs to be injected with the ‘cells again. Fainting’s always the first symptom, and we must keep the population under control. Corporation policy.

Aloud, the midwife repeated: “She’ll be alright in a few minutes-- everyone just clear out. ANother guide will continue the tour. Just move out, please. Thank you.”

Grumbling, the crowd moved away, iron doors unlocking against the press of their bodies. The nurse leaned against the wall, breathing hard. After a long, silent moment, she walked swiftly over to the glass and rapped hard on it with stubby knuckles. Her tap echoed as she peered into the cage.

Children’s things in sets of three were scattered about: three bottles of formula, three teddy bears, three cradles rocking despite the absence of wind. Three children, too.

These were the monsters, the mistakes, the aberrations so feared by the people of Suo Yi City. Triplets.

In the City, even twins were abnormal. But Triplets! Which one was good? Which one evil? What was the third? Or were they all a toxic mixture of both, unstable and irregular? In another time, another world, they might have had a chance at life. But the Corporation couldn’t tolerate differences. There was too much at stake. The midwife knew what she had to do.

She stared into the children’s big blue eyes as they toddled around the cage. One--the boy-- smiled up at her, clutching a blanket. The midwife felt her heart warm, a slice of pity creeping up inside her. She touched the Corporation logo emblazoned on the side of her apron. Grimacing, she shook her head and pressed a button on the com in her ear.

In a slow, measured, pace, she carefully said the words: “Order 9012. Prep for execution.” As the gunning machinery descended from the ceiling, she closed her eyes.

Corporation policy. Corporation law. Corporation policy. Corporation law. Corporation policy…The words pounded together like crying children in her head.

The little boy whimpered as his sisters pulled him close. Only a year old, yet they knew. The end was near. The boy began to cry.

“Shh,” the nurse whispered, eyes still closed. “Birth is better than life. Shhh. Sleep now.”