Bloodlines 2

Chapter 2

Thursday afternoon. As usual it was Scripture.

I say as usual…it was identical to last Thursday’s Scripture and to next Thursday’s. Every single Thursday I could remember. And before me… every Thursday since the Flood. And that was over two hundred years ago.

The windows were high to stop us gazing out. The air in the Reading Room was fetid and heavy. Sister Lola droned her lines. The Flood. Stories of tragedy. Stories of courage. Dull and boring.

A fly buzzed lazily across the room.  My namesake landed on the wall above Sister Lola’s head. I tried to imagine what he saw. Four rows, 6 girls in each, regulation cross-legged with hands folded neatly in laps. Perhaps we looked content?

Next to me Bliss slid her eyes sideways trying to make me smile. I don’t know why but she was taking some real risks since she knew we were leaving. It’s true she was funny. In the dorm at night I had to stuff my mouth with bedsheet, so funny was her imitation of each of the Guardian Sisters.  It would be a disaster to be caught smiling this afternoon though. If I didn’t blink…if I stared ahead…I could keep a straight face.

I tried to ignore Bliss. I stared at the girl in front of me; tracing patterns in the heavy grey weave of her dress. I concentrated on the Sister’s words. We’d got to the bit when the waters had stopped rising.

Of course, this reading was familiar. All my life I’d been listening to this. Today though, was different.  We would not have many more Thursdays, listening to the same old tale made me sad.  And, if I’m honest, it scared me too.

Sister Lola paused dramatically and I made myself listen, “But what to do? How could our ancestors save those who were still alive?”

Nobody replied. We were not expected to speak.

Into the stagnant air Sister Lola answered herself. This was her favourite part. She raised her chin, eyes shining, smiling zealously at us. She looked so happy. I’m sure I wasn’t alone in wishing I could share her enthusiasm. It might make all the uncertainty about tomorrow worthwhile. If only I could believe this stuff!

“And yes, the First Nations agreed with the Scholars. The solution to our predicament…indeed, our salvation… was to be found in the writings of the ancient and wise philosophers. Only they could help us in this, our darkest of times. Our Leaders, our Great Men, drew up their plans. So many had drowned but even for the few left there was too little to eat. The choices before them were difficult and they needed all their courage. They believed in the survival of the fittest. They needed to save the best for each task. To ensure your future…your existence!”

Behind me a girl yawned. There was a shiver through our ranks and we all snapped upright desperate not to be accused of disrespect. I didn’t look at Bliss but I knew she would own up if I was accused. A few weeks ago I had been punished for irreverent behaviour when I had fallen asleep during morning prayers. If I was accused of anything else I wasn’t sure what the penalty would be. I didn’t want to risk being sent to Solitary in case Bliss left on Friday without me.

Thankfully Sister Lola’s interest in the Scripture stopped her from pursuing the yawner and she nodded sagely as she continued.

“Of course the most important lesson from the ancients… that population should not be allowed exceed food supply….this became our law…and our salvation!” She was jubilant and I suddenly wanted to laugh. Bliss and I were going away from this place in just two days and the Sister was talking about salvation.

“It was clear that population had to be further limited if we were to survive.”

Her gaze searched each row. I put on my most serious expression. The Sister had to make sure that none of us would argue with the concept of population control…it was important that we accepted the decision of the First Nations. I knew Sister Lola would be astounded if she knew how we all talked in the dark of the dorm at night. I frowned to hide the thought and hoped that the Sister might believe my face showed empathy for our ancestors.

“The challenge was to share and spread the word…to ensure that we all pulled together…for the good of the Human Race.”

As she turned to the screen to start the visual there was a tiny, silent shift amongst us as we stretched and twisted on the hard floor. The urge to move was so strong.  By the time she swung back we were obediently still.

The first short film showed what Sister Lola called, the ‘initial response’ to the First Nations plan. We watched as the crowd, angry and threatening, protested. For many of us this was our only sight of men and boys and it was unnatural to see the women and girls in the film jostling alongside them. One of the Fleets from our dorm, a girl called Sila 4914, was convinced that she saw a woman holding a small child knocked to the ground at the back left of the screen. Bliss and I had tried hard but we hadn’t been able to spot the woman.

Sister Lola spoke again. Her voice strained to express both her sympathy for the misguided rebels of the first response and more importantly the courage then necessary to put the Bloodlines Plan into place. Her hands, open palmed, her head tipped sympathetically to one side as if acknowledging those early voices of protest. In that moment I hated her.

She nodded her head gently as she explained.

“The plan was radical. To ensure survival it needed to be. It was vital to save as many people as possible. But how to choose? Who to choose?”

She smiled, inviting us to empathise with her for these dilemmas so long ago. I swallowed and looked at Bliss. Would we be chosen on Friday?

“Imagine the agonies of the First Nations as they debated the issue. “

Someone sneezed to my left and we all jumped a little at the unexpected noise. Thankfully sneezing was not a blasphemy and so Sister Lola limited herself to a frosty look at the perpetrator. The stifling air in the room welcomed the tiny movement the sneeze brought and for a few seconds I felt almost refreshed.

The diversion did not stop Sister Lola though. She threw open her arms in welcome; this was the point where all our ancestors joined the history. They were among the Chosen. They had been saved. They were the foundation stones of the Bloodlines Plan. The first Fleets, the first Bitzers, the first Brawns…and my own line, the first Flies. Boring as Scripture was I was always struck by this…the story of our origins, but this afternoon I felt particularly moved by Sister Lola’s words. For Bliss and me, the Notice given on Tuesday signalled our own involvement in the Bloodlines Plan. We had been called on to do our duty.

“The heroism of these people was unbounded. They helped the leaders of the First Nations by offering themselves…as the best of their type…the best of their Bloodline. To those brave people we owe our survival today!” Sister Lola’s voice was always triumphant as she got to this line. If Sister Lola was unwell and we had Sister Morten or Sister Jas this was a point of real difference. The dispassionate delivery of Sister Morten suggested her relief to be almost at the end of her script, whilst we always imagined that Sister Jas had a tear in her eye at this point.

“But we mustn’t forget the sacrifices made by all. “ Sister Lola said, her voice dipping gently. The screen above her showed the processions of the Second Response Heroes. They walked, slowly and with purpose past the raised dais seating the Leaders.

“These were the real champions,” Sister Lola said proudly. “Thousands upon thousands of men, women and children preparing to give up everything to save us. Their sacrifice helped create the pure Bloodlines.”

In the heat of the Reading Room the scene seemed unreal. The grainy film caught glimpses of these archaic and exotic people as they trooped towards their end. Holding hands and carrying smaller children they climbed the steps towards the Refrigeration Centre. One or two cast a glance towards the camera. For a second their eyes focussed into the lens. I imagined what it was to be one of these people. I always wondered if they guessed that theirs might be one of the few faces visible from others around them hundreds of years in the future. These people looked so different to us.

We watched the rest of the film with very little commentary from Sister Lola as usual. The first of the Bloodlines were named ancestors with the exact physical and temperament characteristics necessary. These were chosen to establish their Line. We had all seen these esteemed people in our pedigree papers and were immune to the sight of ancient relatives smiling and waving from the screen at us. The satisfied sigh Sister Lola gave as the film finished signalled for us that an end to Scripture was due. Only a few moments left until we could stand and stretch.

“Nena 26612 and Bliss 7512, Room Duties.”

Bliss and I dropped our heads to hide our smiles. It was a year or more since we had been lucky enough to get a Room Duty together. And now, on our last Thursday. We were only required to sweep the floor and close the blinds after our dorm-mates had filed out…but the five minutes of unsupervised time alone in the classroom seemed wonderful to us.