Authors: Richard Gohl
Children Come Out
ALIA AND BES sent messages throughout the underground cities that children were about to be released and with a growing number of predominantly women, they began to make their way into Napea.
In their wake, a growing number of people were taking to the streets—gathering in the transdomes. Alia and Bes, preoccupied with what they were about to do, barely noticed that many of the people were armed.
The Service reached an international consensus to allow the Real people 3 hours of access to the city free from Napeans. The Service concluded, given the degree of accuracy in the information presented, and the potential for international publicity, the rebel demands would be met. The city was shut down and Napeans stayed indoors.
That afternoon Bes had been stationed in at Napean city central magnarail. The city was absolutely dead. Empty trains passed silently through the stations.
Then the first group arrived: 29 children, an hour after Alia’s announcement. Bes could see their faces peering out as the train came to a stop; dozens of big dark eyes and pale faces. She waved at them and ran over to help them from the carriage.
She stepped in through the door and called: “Hello everyone. Don’t be scared. I‘m here to look after you.” None of the children moved. Some stared straight at her; others looked to one another for guidance. She took several of the older looking children by the hand. “Come with me, this way…you’re going to be ok… everybody off.” She smiled at each of them, trying to put them at ease with her warm smile, but the smile became twitchy as she realized that they all looked the same. Some of the older children began to take the younger ones by the hand. As the last of them disembarked, one little girl spoke to Bes.
“Robbie wanted to come and see the parents too!”
“Oh… great.” Said Bes, not knowing why “Robbie” shouldn’t come and see his parents. The girl continued, “He knows he hasn’t got a Real mummy or daddy but he still wanted to come.”
Bes had never seen a robot child before. He was perfect. His hair was straight and black, eyes dark brown, skin—pale. There were no perceptible signs that the little thing wasn’t one of the group—except for the facial expression. His face was more inactive. The other children fidgeted, their fingers picked and tweaked, their eyes darted around as they took in their surroundings and stole glances at the strange “Real” woman. The robot child had the poise of an elder statesman. His eyes certainly moved around but tended to fix on one thing for two or three seconds and the head was slightly inclined to follow.
Bes was fascinated and couldn’t help reaching forward to touch the face. It jolted its head back and the eyes widened as they looked at her. She had shocked the little creature. It had not been touched by a stranger before. Softly she held his chin. It was warm, soft and dry: “What’s your name?” Bes asked.
“Robbie,” it said. Its voice was confident, high pitched. “And who are your parents? asked Bes
“Albert and Karina.” said the robot. “What do they do?”
“Daddy’s a priest” said Robbie.
“A Priest?” Bes asked. She knew a priest was a religious leader but little else. “Does he work in a church?”
“No. He makes games for flying, astral travelling and elevating…a priest means he shows everyone how to do it.”
“Oh right. And what do you call that religion?”
“Flying.”
“Wow! said Bes, “I’ve never heard of that!”
“It’s new,” said Robbie. He waited for her to ask another question and when she didn’t he said, “Are you looking for your children?” The high frequency yet self-assuredness of his voice was odd. He seemed keen for her to answer, studying each tiny feature on her face looking for a sign. She felt an urge to frustrate him. She just said, “No.”
He continued watching her as she moved away. Bes could see that some of the children knew each other. They’d obviously been brought up in secrecy; she wondered: had some Napeans the cheek to have stolen more than once?
Bes scanned the crowd of children assembling before her and realized that many of the children who seemed to know each other were “Robbies” accompanying another child. It was impossible to tell which were real and which were not. There were toddlers who still had unique characteristics, being carried by Napean children only a few years older. All the teenage boys had the same faces and all the teenage girls looked as if the same girl had been copied but each with slightly differing fashion sense. She kept saying to herself, “They’re all the same,” over and over.
Bes became breathless with shock. The children had all disembarked and were standing staring at her. She opened her mouth to speak but no sound came out. She swallowed, opened her mouth and tried again. “…Go straight…” She pointed southwards. “…through to the number 4…” before she’d finished giving directions, all the small faces turned to see a group of twenty or so children coming up the stairs from another underground platform. Bes took a deep breath and finished her instructions:
“Go across there, towards number 4, out the gate and next to the coliseum, sit down on the Spanish steps. You’ll see all the parents waiting there. Don’t be scared.” She smiled shepherding the little people along in the right direction. Then jogged back to where the next group were coming up.
Bes wasn’t thinking about her own child—she was blocking out this possibility. He would be fourteen and, she now knew, unrecognizable. He would have no idea who she might be; that’s if he was even alive. But still she searched each face for some kind of recognition.
And the children kept coming. Clearly Shane’s message to the Service had hit its mark. Each incoming group was made up of the same groups: Robbies; individual-looking toddlers; dark-featured Asiatic boys; and brown-haired, brown-eyed girls.
Over the next hour more trains arrived, the youngest passengers being just babies. These stood every chance of being reunited with their parents but for the older ones, the clones; there would be no way to identify them and no record of where they were from.
Real people had flooded in through the Stirling gate, waiting for the first glimpse of their children. Most of them had never been in the Napean city before and were overwhelmed by the towering structures and the strange architecture.
As the children dismounted the train, walked down the platform, and out across the road to the coliseum, a cry went out from the crowd of waiting parents. It was a cry of joy and excitement as they saw their children were coming home. But when they set eyes on their babies, the parents realized they had been irrevocably changed. Most of them had become Napean and one could no longer be recognized from another.
Still, the parents surged forward, hoping to find their own child. The children then stopped, shocked by the faces in front of them, weird faces contorted and crazed, each with different eyes, darting and searching. The children sensed the fear, anxiety, and horror. Fear that they wouldn’t find their child, anxiety at what had become of them, and horror that the child was no longer theirs.
There was a stand-off. Those at the front stopped. Real people at the back of the crowd surged forward, their excited cries turning to gasps of shock as they too saw how few of the children had any distinguishing features. They were all the same. Some children cried; others stared blankly, a few whispered to each other.
Bolder parents strode forward and began inspecting faces, staring closely into the children’s eyes as if they were about to see some family feature, trait, or a deciding sign.
Some of the real parents recognized a baby—maybe their baby. A tussle ensued between a Napean female teen and a mother who tried to pull her child from the girl’s arms.
“You can look but you can’t take her!” said the Napean girl. “She’s my sister—she’s from a loving family!”
“Yes, I know!” said the mother, reaching for the infant, her eyes fixed on its little face. “My family!”
“Please help me,” said the girl, looking toward other adults. “We only came because we had to. This woman’s taking my sister.”
“Like hell that’s my daughter!”
Many of the children began to cry and the chaos became more intense as Alia and Bes exchanged a glance, wondering if they had made a huge mistake. Bes started yelling.
“Okay, calm down, everybody! People stand back. Please show some respect!” Alia walked to the edge of the crowd, pointing, and yelled: “Children, come this way and sit down; adults stay seated on the southern steps just over here.” With some order restored, there seemed to be an expectation that she say more.
“Many of you will go to your homes in Napea as normal. We know you were taken from your parents standing here. Unfortunately, now we have no way of knowing who you are. You have lives here in Napea, but your parents here also love you still and have spent many years grieving for you, hoping that someday you might come back.” Many of the parents cried not only for the children but for themselves as they recalled time lost—hours spent hoping, praying, wondering what had happened to their child.
Alia continued. “This was the day that was meant to happen. The choice is yours, whether you come home to the real world or stay in Napea. Know that whatever decision you make, you will always be welcome in the place of your birth. Take a few minutes to sit and think about what has happened. Feel free to talk to any of us. No one here is to blame for what has happened.”
The two groups fell back and sat with their own, before a few extroverts from each group ventured across the invisible line.
Children spoke awkwardly to people who may have been their parents. Adults questioned youngsters who may have been their children.
Alia asked an older child to speak on behalf of the others. She said: “We are sorry we became lost. We have parents now, here in Napea. We have families…” The girl’s speech fizzled out. Alia spoke quietly to her and then the girl added: “We would like to come and visit…” This was too much for many of the parents, many of whom were wiping away tears or trying to comfort one another.
Alia tried to end the drama, saying to the children, “Never forget your true parents or where you came from. We have a guarantee for your safety upon your return. You will no longer have to live in seclusion. The Service have guaranteed your safety.”
One woman suddenly blurted out, “But if you stop the Napean therapy you can return to a normal life, to who you really are, to your original self… don’t any of you want that?” Many of the children sat back down on the steps awkwardly, waiting to return.
In all, only three babies and three small children were reunited with their real families; most parents returned saddened and embittered.
The news spread through the underworld. Anger boiled over, while at the same time it was clear that a takeover of the city was now possible. The seven underground cities erupted in activity. It was time for the real people to take back the surface. Some rushed home with their children and barricaded themselves inside while others gathered in the streets of the transdomes.
Meanwhile, Shane and Wez had been spending the last few hours discussing in detail the facts about the space program and what it all meant. And, as Shane was just starting to wonder about his son, there he was; he could feel and hear Ryan’s voice:
Guards took us, Dad! They’ve taken us to our old house. They were looking for you. They tied us up! We waited there for a while, and then something happened and they all just left. We’re still here. Dad come up! There’s no one here! Help us!
Shane:
Okay we’re coming. Tell me if they return.
Shane and Wez wasted no time.
“Here, take your gun,” said Wez. “I’m not much of a shot.” Shane shoved it down his trousers.
The street outside the house was empty but as they reached the upmost level it was a whole different story. Inside the transdome it was virtually standing room only. The mood was rough. Everyone had a weapon. There were guns, knives, swords, mining tools, steel bars, and wooden sticks. Shane pulled his hat down low over his face.
They made their way around the outer edge of the dome towards the exit. Shane said to Wez,
“Ask them what the hell they’re doing! Tell them the guards have bolt guns that can shoot a hole through half a dozen of them at once.” Progress through the crowd was slow. Wez turned to a man and asked, “What’s going on?”
“You haven’t heard? When the parents and the children get back, we’re going in!” said the man.
“Fuckin’ nano!” somebody yelled. Shane had been spotted. Two men lunged at him, pushing him back into the sloping roof of the dome. Shane slid awkwardly down onto the ground but had the presence of mind to somehow produce his weapon. He was on his back, waving the gun in the general direction of the attackers, who immediately saw that it was a bolt gun. They all pulled back in a rapidly increasing semi-circle.
“He’s with us!” yelled Wez, finding his voice.
Shane stood up and said. “Go. Wez. Run!” Wez busted the door open and Shane followed. It was a more than unusually bad day outside. The hot wind howled and sand stung their faces. Several men tried to pursue but were pulled back; the people of the underground settlements had agreed to wait for the return of the women and children before storming Napea.
Without looking back, Shane and Wez sprinted like madmen up the covered walkway. They could see the huge gates were open and unguarded. The real people, the parents leaving the city, looked up to see a man being chased
into
the city—by a Napean.