2074 - Desistance For Some Means Life For Others

By Bruce Gaughran

For thirty years, global warming was nothing more than a contentious issue between scientists and politicians. In the late-2020s, it became a reality.

As food and water supplies diminished, starvation, disease and death flourished. Everyone demanded answers. When they did not come, civil unrest, political wrangling, and regional skirmishes wreaked havoc across the earth. Eventually, world leaders agreed upon a solution. Some must die so that others can live. What followed was the selective culling of the earth's population. The plan worked, and life for the survivors returned to normal. Or, so they thought…

DESISTANCE - It sounds so simple and logical—until it is your turn. In ten days, I will cease to exist. I'm only 33 years old, and I'm not ready to die.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bruce Gaughran
• Release date: Feb 20, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386285816

Bruce Gaughran

Who is Bruce Gaughran? A. "River Rat" B. Retired business professional with too much time on his hands C. 'Survivor' of SERE training D. Published author who has written  fiction and non-fiction stories for over twenty years E. All of the above (and so much more) If you answered 'All of the Above', you are correct. And each is a story waiting to be told. Bruce Gaughran has published "2074", a SciFi novel, and "Staff of Rhah", a Fantasy novel: > "Brown Water Red Blood" - a novella - is a four short stories and one poem of his experiences as a member of the Mobile Riverine Force in the Mekong Delta Region of the Republic of Vietnam plus four other stories related to the 60s and 70s. > "TROUBLE" - a novella - is a Justin Seaborne Duology. TROUBLE has been adapted for the stage and was performed on February 11-14, 2016 by the Marshall Area Stage Company. Published short stories and poetry include: > Living and Dying at the Sam's Club > Almost Perfect > The Age of Innocence > A Cat's Tale > Will I Ever Find Some Peace - a poem about his experiences in Vietnam > A Patriot Found His Home > The Nine Stages Bruce lives in northern Georgia, is a member of the Chattanooga Writers Guild, and leads the North Georgia Writers Group. He is currently writing "Shattered", a Nazi war crimes story focused on Treblinka. Bruce's The Writer's Corner Website:  http://www.brucegaughran.com

Book preview

2074-11-16

For thirty years, global warming was nothing more than a contentious issue between scientists and politicians. In the late-2020s, it became a reality. As food and water supplies diminished, starvation, disease and death flourished. Everyone demanded answers. When they did not come, civil unrest, political wrangling, and regional skirmishes wreaked havoc across the earth. Eventually, world leaders agreed upon a solution. Some must die so that others can live. What followed was the selective culling of the earth’s population.

Then the four angels who had been prepared for

this hour and day and month and year were turned

loose to kill one-third of all the people on earth

The Book of Revelation 9:15

But, it didn’t stop there

DESISTANCE—It sounds so simple and logical—until it is your turn. In ten days, I will cease to exist. How do I know? When a burning pain ripped me from my dreams last night, I discovered the numbers 2074-11-16 tattooed on the back of my neck. This morning I researched the anomaly. On the day I was born, a machine called a Gleaner assigned me those numbers. Then a technician programed a microchip and inserted it into the back of my neck. The numbers represent a date. The date I will desist.

Today is November 6, 2074. I’m only 33 years old, and I’m not ready to die.

1 – The Fear of Knowing

Iread the message below the holo-image of a nursery with dozens of infants wrapped in pink and blue blankets. We desist so that others may exist. Until now, desistance wasn’t real to me. Looking back upon my 33 years, I realize I have never known anyone who desisted. How can that be?

I remember sitting in my Psych class in college and laughing when the professor asked, Would you want to know when you will die? Now that I have only ten days to live, I want to change my answer.

I sit there stunned, rubbing my face. I tap my interface. Esmeralda, show my calendar for the next six weeks. I flip through the pages and note I have a dentist’s appointment Thursday afternoon for a cleaning and exam. I should cancel that. I page forward a few weeks and notice Kat and I have tickets for the Nutcracker on December 21. She is looking forward to this. Damn, this holiday season will really suck for her. Three days later is the office Christmas party. Crap, I am supposed to be Santa this year.

I take a deep breath, sit back in my chair, and stare at the ceiling tapping my fingers mindlessly on my stomach. Maybe it is time to start a bucket list.

The beep of my heads-up display in front of my desk shows Katrina is calling. I accept the call and Kat’s image appears. She says, Hey, Hon, is this a good time?

I plaster a smile on my face and nod my head. Kat, what a surprise. I was just thinking of you. What’s going on?

Have you thought any more about Hawaii for our anniversary trip? March isn’t far off. If we’re going, we need to book it soon.

Kat has mentioned this trip several times over the last few months. We were married there, and she wants to return for our tenth anniversary. I choke down a response. Suck it up, Chase. Can we talk about this tonight? I’m preparing for a meeting at 11:00.

Sure, Hon. We’ll talk then. Bye. The expression on Kat’s face tells me it wasn’t the response she wanted from me.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. That went well, I mumbled. I spin around and look out the floor-to-ceiling windows. I will miss this view. I have a corner office 29 stories up overlooking the Pacific Ocean. On a good day, I can see Santa Catalina Island. A squeaking noise draws my attention to the windows facing south. I am so absorbed in my thoughts, I had not noticed the cleaner sitting in a harness squeegeeing my windows. The man gives me a thumbs-up before returning to his job. I wonder if he was privy to my conversation with Kat.

A beeping sound yanks me from my thoughts. I spin back around and the heads-up display notifies me my brother is calling.

I straighten my back and find that same smile I used on Kat. I push the button and Robby’s face appears. What a surprise. What’s going on, brother?

Chase, I keep thinking your looks will improve with age, but I guess I’m wrong. You’re as ugly as ever.

I glance over my shoulder to see if the window cleaner is still there. Nice, but I seem to remember we’re identical twins. We both laugh. It’s always good hearing from you, Robby. What can I do for you?

I have to be in L.A. in two weeks for a meeting with the Jet Propulsion group. I’m hoping Kat and you can join me for dinner one of those nights.

I find it impossible to talk. I glance at my calendar and attempt to clear my throat. After three tries, I croak, Sure, no problem. I’ll mention it to Kat this evening. I’m certain we can clear our calendars. Call me when you know the dates.

That’s great. It will be good to see you two. Take care, little brother.

Robby, do I need to remind you I’m only twelve minutes younger than you?

No matter how you put it, you’re still my baby brother. He laughs. Talk to you soon.

My fingers trace the date tattooed on my neck. How do I tell Robby and Kat I will die in less than ten days?

____________________

As the sun sets, I find myself in no hurry to get home. I stroll the two blocks from the transit station to our house. This evening I see things I have not noticed before. The Franklins landscaped the front yard, and it looks nice. Linda Bautz had her house painted a hideous green. How’d I miss that? The Zoebrests bought a solar-powered car. I need to ask them how they like it. I stop when I see the for sale sign in front of the Pouran’s house. Basir and I just talked two or three weeks ago and he did not mention anything about selling. Next time I see Tara or him, I need to ask why they are leaving.

Sweat beads tickle the hairs on the back of my neck and irritate the tattoo. I wipe them with my handkerchief.

The smell of fermented fish paste tells me the Cambodian couple is cooking on the grill. The pungent scent makes my lips purse. I pinch my nostrils and remind myself that prahok is quite tasty once you get beyond the smell. As I pass the Jacobs’ house, I pause for a moment and listen to Mozart’s Jupiter Symphony playing. I hum a few bars as I continue my walk home.

Nearing our house, I stop to take in the similarities in architecture and landscaping in our gated community. Stone and concrete are the new grass. You will not find a tree or shrub anywhere. The only green in the neighborhood is the Bautz’s house. Tinted windows, awnings, and solar-powered roof panels are the new chic because energy credits are worth their weight in gold. 

I press my wrist unit and the door unlocks. Stepping inside, I hear Stravinsky’s The Rite of Spring, one of Kat’s favorites. A smile creeps onto my face when I get a whiff of something cooking.

I’m home. What’s that wonderful aroma?

Kat greets me with a grin and a kiss, then hands me a cold beer. Your favorite. A lamb kebab with saffron rice.

Great. What’s the occasion?

Kat hooks her arm through mine and guides me into the kitchen. Nothing special. It’s been a while since I cooked. So, when I left the hospital this afternoon, I stopped by the Iranian market and picked up a few things.

I give her a hug. Thanks, Hon, you’ve made my day.

____________________

As Kat and I clean up after the great dinner, she turns and asks, Do you want to talk about it?

A sheepish grin and raised shoulders is my response.

Come on, Hon. I could tell something was bothering you today. Spit it out.

I try to suck it up, but tears fill my eyes and run down my cheeks. I turn around and point at the back of my neck.

Kat’s mouth drops open as she reads the date tattooed on my neck. I didn’t know. When did it appear?

Around midnight last night. It burned like hell. I tried to wash it off, but it appears to be permanent.

I’ve read about this in the medical journals. Kat shakes her head violently. Uh-uh, this can’t be right. You are too young. We have our entire life in front of us.

I pull her into my arms. My tears dampen her hair as hers dampen my shirt.

My stomach churns and acid burns my throat.

2 – Culling = Survival

Nine days. I scribble the number in my notebook. Staring out my office window, I think back on last night’s events. The news ruined a beautiful evening. Kat and I sat on the couch, holding each other, and talked until we were both exhausted. Even then, sleep did not come easy.

I run my hands over my scalp. We can’t go through nine more nights like that. 

I walk to the window, exhale on the glass, and write the number nine. I trace over it several more times until it is just a smear on the window. I return to my desk and plop down in my chair. Taking a deep breath, I straighten my back, unfold my TemTab device, and tap my temporal interface in front of my ear. I am a successful businessman, I remind myself. I run a billion-dollar company. If my company was going to fail in nine days, what would I do?

Gather all the information available on the problem. I tap my interface. Esmeralda, I have several questions for you. First, why do we have desistance?

Less than a second later, information appears on the screen and a woman’s voice summarizes the key points. "In the 2020s, severe temperatures and reduced rainfall created food shortages in many countries. By the early 2030s, every nation felt the impact of global warming. In the United States, the drought stricken Midwest, South and West Coast agricultural belts were hit the hardest. Other major food producers in the Far East and South America experienced similar problems. The world population was 8.5 billion and growing at a rate of 100 million each year. The diminishing food and water supplies could not satisfy the needs of most countries.

Hydroponics and greenhouses could only produce enough food for a fraction of the population. At first, countries began hording food. The rationing of food and water supplies followed. With rationing came civil unrest and riots. To regain order, the United Nations imposed martial law.

I throw down my stylus. This is going nowhere. Who instituted desistance?

The United Nations instituted desistance to reduce and control world population after it determined that by 2040 food supplies could only sustain a population of 7.5 billion.

Thank you. What is desistance?

Desistance is the selective culling of the world’s population.

Okay. How is the population culled?

Sorry, that information is not available.

They do not want that information out there. Is desistance why women can no longer conceive?

Yes, regulating births helps control the population.

I already know that. Explain the concept of desistance.

Currently, desistance controls the population levels by limiting the number of births to the number of deaths within geographic regions.

How are deaths controlled?

A computer called the Gleaner determines the length of a person’s life when the child is born. The calculation uses several factors including the probability of accidental death, death by disease and natural disasters, war, and suicide. The base point for the calculation is the world’s ability to adequately feed the population at the time of the birth.

I wasn’t asking that. How does a person cease to exist?

The microchip implanted into the child’s brain stem at birth activates at 00:01 on the date selected by the Gleaner. Cardiac arrest is immediate.

Now we are getting somewhere. Has the microchip ever not activated?

That information is not available.

Of course not. Has the chip ever been—

Esmeralda interrupts. Your 10:00 meeting regarding budget planning for 2075 is in ten minutes. Are you prepared for the meeting?

No, I’m not done asking questions yet. Esmeralda, has the chip ever been successfully deactivated?

That information is not available. 

Okay, is there any other purpose for the microchip?

Yes, the microchip is also an identification and tracking device.

Why does a person need to be identified and tracked?

The Gleaner needs to know a person desists on their given day and time.

Now that is interesting. Why does the Gleaner need to know a person desists?

For two reasons. First, to notify the Birthing Unit when the next baby can be born. Second, in order to have enough time to harvest the person’s healthy organs.

What!

Your 10:00 budget planning meeting begins in five minutes in Conference Room B12.

The meeting lasts the rest of the day. Even though I called the meeting, my head just is not in the game. After the meeting, two of my managers ask if there is something wrong. I lie.

____________________

Kat and I adjourn to the couch after dinner. She leans into me and asks, So, how was your day?

Her hair smells like lilacs—fresh and clean, yet not overpowering. I had not planned on dumping, but her question opens the door for me. I explain what I learned and she is just as shocked as I am with the news.

Harvested, she says. I’m a neurosurgeon and never knew that happened. How does something like that stay under wraps?

I pull her closer. Tracking devices, microchips, induced cardiac arrest, organ collection–this sounds like a science-fiction novel.

Hon, can you imagine the logistical coordination needed to pull this off? It doesn’t seem possible.

I tap my finger on my lips considering her comment. Right, but even more crazy is how the U.N. culled a billion lives. How was that kept out of the history books? And, who decided who lived and who died?

Kat sits up and looks at me. Good questions. I’ll check the medical library’s database tomorrow. Perhaps it has some answers for us.

3 – Culling = Collecting

Eight days–this is torture.

I spend most of the day in planning meetings and budget reviews. It is a long tedious process, but it keeps my mind off other things that have consumed most every minute of the last couple of days. After I return to my office, I realize it is time to start a succession plan—just in case. I review my senior managers’ personnel files.

On the way home from work, every sign or billboard with an eight in it reminds me of how many days I have left on this earth. About halfway home from the commuter terminal, I pick up my pace and end up jogging the last few blocks.

As I walk through the front door, I hear Kat talking to someone. In the kitchen I find Robby sitting at the counter.

Robby? What a surprise. I thought you weren’t coming for a couple of weeks.

Kat walks up and kisses me. I called and told him. He wanted to come.

Robby walks over and gives me a hug. I have sixty days of unused vacation booked. I can afford to take a few days off to visit my little brother. He steps back and smiles. Besides, why wouldn’t I want to spend time with Kat?

He turns to Kat and smiles. I still don’t understand why you chose him over me. I’m better looking and more intelligent. Robby throws his arms out to his sides. What more could you want in a man?

Kat throws a towel at Robby and we all laugh. His coming means the world to me. Maybe the three of us can figure out what to do.

The laughter ends when Robby spins me around and pulls down my shirt collar. He studies the numbers tattooed on my neck while running his index finger over them. Kat said these numbers just appeared two nights ago. I’ve heard of this happening before, but how in the hell can it happen without someone doing it to you?

I shrug. I woke up at midnight with intense pain in the back of my neck. I didn’t equate the event to desistance until the next morning when I remembered a college professor talking about a date appearing on the nape of the neck. Back then, it didn’t seem important. I guess I should have paid more attention in class.

Kat interrupts. Robby brought ribeye steaks. All you need to do is throw them on the grill. Everything else is prepared. So, change clothes and get crack’n, honey. I’m starving.

After dinner, we retire to the back deck. I explain to Robby what I knew about desistance. After he is up to speed, Kat says, I did my own research today. I have access to more information than Chase because I am a surgeon. I found out there are International Population Control teams, known as the IPC, throughout the world. In most situations, they can be at a desist location within the hour.

Robby frowns. That’s amazing. There must be tens of thousands of these harvesting teams. Why haven’t we ever seen or heard about them? 

I have no idea. But, that isn’t as weird as what else I learned. There is an auction site where hospitals, and even individuals, can bid on the harvested tissues and organs.

I jump up. No way. You can’t keep something like that a secret.

Well, it does exist. A person can even place an order for organs not currently available. I went online and performed a search for a kidney match for a fictitious patient. There were already three bids on one in the Los Angeles area. The bid was up to $425,000. Harvesting organs must be a multi-billion-dollar business.

No wonder they can have teams anywhere in the world within an hour of a person’s death, Robby comments. 

I throw my hands up. Sure, the whole thing sounds ridiculous, but I think we’re losing sight of the number one priority.

What’s that? Robby asks.

"This is one of those trees and forest paradigms. I know I’m being selfish, but I’m only concerned with one tree—me—in this massive forest of humanity. Kat, did you