The Change

By Kayla L. Mathys

t's hard to follow your heart when you don't have one.

In the aftermath of a war-weary North America, the Change was invented as a more effective human heart. To keep the Citizens safe, all who refused the Change were labeled as Rebels and banned from entering the Cities. For eighteen year-old Elloh, the protective confines of the Change and the City are all she's ever known. Unlike other Citizens, though, Elloh secretly dreams of a life that isn't so limiting.

Her dreams come true when she meets Zen, an intruding Rebel related to the City Official assigned to keep Elloh safe from harm. When fellow Change Operator, Rich, coerces Elloh into performing a risky Change Operation on Elloh's new and only friend, Tally, Elloh quickly realizes the City is not what it seems, and joins the Rebellion with Zen. However, the Rebellion presents several new challenges, and just when Elloh thinks she's overcome them all, the Rebellion decides to take a stand against the City with the most unexpected consequences.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Nov 3, 2015
• ISBN: 9781329652385

Book preview

The Change

The Change

Kayla L. Mathys

First Edition

COPYRIGHT

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination, and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2015 Kayla L. Mathys

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.

First edition: 2015

ISBN 978-1-329-65238-5

This book is dedicated to all the past, present, and future Rebels who dare to be different.

Part I

THE BEGINNING

I.I

…and in the beginning there was great animosity between the Citizens and the Rebels. The Rebels were concerned they were losing their freedom. They had yet to realize their freedom was only suffering in disguise.

—from The Beginning: A History of the Change

I'm not supposed to be different.

The Change erases most of the desire for novelty, making my life exactly like everyone else I know: structured and simple with ancestors who decided the Change was the best way to keep humanity safe from all harm.

Before the Change, disease, death, addiction, and irrationality began in our blood as chemicals running through our poorly-constructed biological systems, destroying everything: our thoughts, our actions, and our lives. We were slaves to our own bodies.

At least that's what I'm told.

My name is Elloh Four, and I'm a fourth generation Citizen who doesn't know much about the original system. Mine was replaced with the Change soon after I was born, and adapted with my growth several times since then.

But here's what I do know: I know our systems, unChanged, are full of really bad blood. What’s in the bloodstream stays there, unchanged, unprotected, and infecting the entire body.

The Change saved us. It fixed the broken system. Our Changed hearts filter out everything that could be dangerous to our health, limiting the amount of chemicals released from our brains—or cells—and pumped through our veins. The Change keeps us safe from our own biological destruction.

But there are people who disagree. They call themselves the Rebels, and think the Change eliminates our humanity. With it, they argue, we erased emotion, attachment, and motivation—everything worth living for. They call us Robots, and form their own communities outside the Cities.

I remember seeing a picture of one of the Rebel riots in a history book in my father’s library: A large mass of people are standing in City Hall, faces reflecting a kind of emotion I’ve never seen before, mouths open in screams, muscles bulging, all hands gripping the same paper sign with words printed in bold type:

DON’T BECOME A SLAVE. SAVE YOURSELF FROM THE CHANGE.

Which is almost the exact message seen scrolling through every digital sign and billboard in the City at all hours of the day:

DON’T BECOME A SLAVE. SAVE YOURSELF WITH THE CHANGE.

It’s clear from the picture the Rebels truly believe the Change turned us into robots, nothing more than machines in the flesh. However, only one part of us—one small space in our chest cavity—is mechanical. The rest of us is completely normal.

Though normal is a category I don’t really feel I belong to.

My father says it’s not unusual to feel this way so close to Graduation. In only a few days, my identity as a Citizen will change from Student to whatever Life Purpose the City will assign for me after the Graduation Ceremony.

Perhaps what you’re feeling, he said to me, is the uncertainty of your future. Don’t worry, Elloh. You’ll be assigned your Life Purpose soon enough, and your future won’t be uncertain anymore.

I didn’t know how to tell him it’s the certainty of my future I am most afraid of.

My Life Purpose will be based off the results of my Graduation Evaluation, a three-part test that was relatively easy for me to complete. I was the first in my class to finish my Evaluation, and those who finish first are almost always given the greatest Life Purpose assignments, the kind of assignments the City depends on.

My older sister, Ellah, was the one hundred ninth Student to finish in her class two years ago, mostly because she refused to study for her Evaluation. Instead, she turned her years worth of notes and schoolbooks into a light show, paper-mâchéing the cut up scraps of knowledge into orbs she hung from the ceiling by pieces of string, organized in a way that made the sunlight dance around her room as it shined through the window. She’s tall and leggy with long, wavy blonde hair and wide, sparkly blue eyes, and she has the kind of soft-spoken voice that always sounds peaceful and friendly, even when she’s angry. After Graduation, she was transferred a short Train ride away, to the City right across the river from ours.

Most of the Cities look the same, though. Their design is based off the same collection of concrete, metal, and shatterproof tinted glass, sectioned by function. Ellah says she met her Mate—a City Lieutenant named Emmet—while walking out of a duplicate of the Paper Supply store she and I used to steal envelopes from when we were children.

It was a game of ours; stealing senseless items from various City stores just to see how many rules we could break in a day.

Now, she’s a different person, a Mate and a mother, with a Life Purpose that requires her to spend hours a day answering questions from Citizens over the Message Screen, her beautiful, red-lipped smile asking everyone over and over and over again How may I help you today?

Meanwhile, I’m mostly average-looking, average height and twiggy, my wavy hair more red than blonde and hazel eyes that are sometimes blue, but mostly green and silver-looking. While my sister is reserved and quiet, I tend to be expressive and easily excited. I love meeting new people. I love hearing their stories, especially ones different from mine. Sometimes, I will go to a place just to watch the people pass by, making up stories for them as they go along their normal lives.

But most Citizens share the same story. They all received the Change at the necessary times, spent eighteen years of life as a Student until Graduation, after which they were assigned their Life Purpose. Most Mated and decided to have children, though no more than two as that’s the City limit. The ones who don’t Mate live out their Life Purpose ceaselessly—every day scheduled the same.

Which is why I want to meet a Rebel one day. I’m curious to hear how they live with their real hearts, bad blood, and such a high risk for everything unimaginably terrible—everything the Cities have tried so hard to eradicate. Legend says you can hear the real heart beating if you press your ear against a Rebel's chest. You can feel it too. My father says it's a myth, and my mother thinks it's gross, but I'm fascinated by the idea. Imagine feeling and hearing your own heartbeat! I'd like to feel a real heart beating, pumping unChanged blood through the body, the sound of it echoing through the chest.

I think it would be quite beautiful to have such a consistent reminder of being alive.

I.II

"I respect the boundaries of my body and mind,

and I trust in the City's ability to find,

my home, my Purpose, and my health with the Change

so to my body and mind, I may not be enslaved."

—the City Promise

The Graduation Ceremony takes place in City Hall, where all the City's biggest events are held. The Hall can seat the entire City comfortably, though the Graduation Ceremony is not mandatory to attend. My father says the City Admiral hasn't required everyone to attend an event since the Rebels were banned from entering City limits.

I'm sitting in the fourth row on top of the large stage. My parents are sitting in the third row of the audience, and I smile at them when they wave at me. I notice the girl sitting next to me is nervous. I watch as she bites her nails and thumps her foot on the ground. Her Change must not work properly. I wonder if she’s worried someone will report her.

The ceremony begins with the recitation of the City Promise.

We're all required to stand, raise our right hands, and stare straight ahead as we speak along with the robotic voice reciting through the speakers.

After the recitation, we take our seats, and the City Admiral takes the podium at the front of the stage. The City Admiral is as old as the City—a whole two centuries—so his dark hair is flecked with slivers of gray, and though his skin is still as smooth as paper, it’s an eerie ghost-white color that makes him look like a walking corpse. Most City Admirals are like this, having been amongst the first generation of people to ever receive the Change. It’s their age and experience that makes them worthy of the title, no Graduation Evaluation necessary.

Today, we honor the graduation of our upstanding Citizens who, in the past eighteen years, have endured the extensive expansion of their knowledge and skills, the City Admiral says. As you all should know, after tonight our Graduates will have twenty-four hours before they are assigned their Life Purpose. Many will be transferred to a brother City to fulfill the duties of their Life Purpose, though few may be able to find their Purpose in the City of their Graduation. All Citizens of the City will remain Citizens, and will be welcome to visit on the Visiting Days assigned each week. If there is anyone who has any remaining questions about the Graduate Transition, please speak to your City Advisor on your own time. As for now, we shall begin the Ceremony, starting with the Graduation of the Ones. When I call your name, please come forward to accept your Graduation.

There are only three Ones. First generation Graduates are rare. They are typically former Rebels, forced into Citizenship. Since the City banned entrance to Rebels, all those caught within City limits are given a choice: become a Citizen or face imprisonment. The Ones who choose Citizenship are given a special section of housing and a single black mark etched into the skin on the wrist of their right arm, but are otherwise just like normal Citizens.

After the Ones come the Twos. There are three times as many Twos as Ones, and even more Threes. It seems to take forever before the Fours are called. The girl next to me is called first, and she is practically shaking from the nerves. Her legs are wobbly and she can barely stand straight. I'm almost certain she's going to pass out before she can accept her Graduation. Our Changed hearts were not built to withstand such an intense chemical release.

I watch her closely, noticing the rapid rise and fall of her chest and the slight stumble in her speech as she accepts her Graduation. But if the City Admiral notices her nervous display, he doesn't show it. He congratulates her, and she quickly exits the stage.

Then, it's my turn.

Elloh Four, the City Admiral calls my name.

I stand and walk to the podium, my head high and shoulders back.

Elloh Four, do you accept your Graduation, and entrust the City with the designation of your Life Purpose as determined by your Graduation Evaluation? the City Admiral asks.

I, Elloh Four, do accept my Graduation and entrust the City with the designation of my Life Purpose as determined by my Graduation Evaluation, I say.

Elloh Four, your Graduation has been accepted. Congratulations. You are now free to begin the preparations for your Transition.

I walk off the stage and exit the Hall. A City Official nods at me without moving from his straight-backed, serious stance in front of the door. I walk around the corner, out of sight, and lean against the cement wall of the building. As I wait for my parents to dismiss themselves and join me, I breathe the fresh night air and look up at the stars. In a few moments, I'll be preoccupied with chatter, congratulations, and Transition planning. It’s only in these few quiet moments alone that I can let my imagination wander without worrying whether someone will notice and report me to the Officials. An imagination is considered dangerous. Still, I can’t help imagining what my life will be like now that I’m no longer a Student. What will my Life Purpose be? Where will I be Transitioned?

Congratulations, Elloh, my mother says, and I quickly turn a smile in her direction as she and my father stop in front of me.

Thank you, mother, I say.

You’re very welcome, dear. Her sweet thin-lipped smile quickly fades to a frown. What are you doing over here by yourself?

Never mind what you’re doing. Let’s get you home, Graduate! my father says, smiling in a way that makes the smooth skin around his eyes crinkle for a moment.

Let's, I say, and we begin our synchronized walk to the building we call home.

Right, left, right, left, right.

I intentionally skip a step, lifting my left foot just a tiny bit higher than normal. I'm not supposed to be different.

But I am.

I.III

True freedom comes from the knowledge of Purpose and the assurance of safety in all it’s forms: mental, physical, and emotional.

—from The Beginning: A History of the Change

The announcement of my Life Purpose arrives the next night as my family is preparing dinner.

Message for Elloh Four. Message level: Yellow, the robotic voice of the message screen on my watch says.

Citizens are all required to wear their assigned watches, which alert each Citizen of their specific schedules. Message levels are measured in colors: red for emergencies, black for the announcement of a deceased relative, and yellow for the most important of non-safety-related announcements. Daily events (such as meal times, sleep times, and Life Purpose and/or Student times) are only given a message level color if our watch detects that we are running late and therefore require a reminder: a level blue.

I’ve always been curious how it’s possible for the watches to know so much about us, and I once asked my father how the watches knew when we were running late.

"It’s not the how that matters, Elloh, he told me. It’s the why, and the why will always be to keep us safe. Remember that."

My mother looks at me, her hands mechanically chopping the carrots for the stew she is making for supper. My family is one of the few families I know of who still cook their own meals, using recipes from past generations.

Well? she asks.

Message accepted and ready to receive, I say to the screen.

Elloh Four has been assigned the Life Purpose of City Change Operator in location West. City Zero-One-Zero. The Transitional Train for Elloh Four is scheduled to leave tomorrow morning at zero eight hundred. Please prepare accordingly, the screen announces.

Message received, I say.

The screen on my watch flashes from yellow to black, and my mother stops chopping the carrots. She wraps her arms around me for a stiff embrace. Over her shoulder, I catch our reflections in the steel cabinet: two nearly-identical stick figures pressed together.

Oh, Elloh, how wonderful! she says.

She releases me, and continues to chop the carrots. My father comes into the room, his expression asking his question before he speaks.

Well, what is it? he asks.

I smile. Change Operator.

He embraces me quickly—a squeeze and release—his eyes reflecting his pride as he smiles at me.

What an honor, Elloh, he says. The first Change Operator in the family.

Change Operator is one of the most prestigious Life Purpose assignments. We are the people who perform the Operations, removing the real hearts, replacing them with the Change, and adapting them when necessary. Only those deemed to be the most skilled are selected.

However, it's not the Life Purpose that excites me. It's the location of the City I will be transferring to. West City Zero-One-Zero was the tenth City to enter the Citizen’s Union, replacing the ancient city of San Francisco. I’ve seen pictures of how the city used to be—so much green and blue and sunlight. Now, it’s known for being the closest City to the largest Rebel community. My Life Purpose will surely introduce me to several Rebels, and I'll get to see a real, fully-developed heart, pumping crimson-colored blood unfiltered by the Change.

I think I'll invite your sister for dinner. You'd like her to join us, right Elloh? my mother asks.

I nod. Yes, please.

She's going to be so proud of you, my father says. We are all very proud of you.

I smile. Thank you.

My mother dumps the mound of chopped carrots into the pot on the stove, and hands me a tomato and a knife.

Help me slice for a moment, she says.

As she activates the screen on her watch to invite Ellah to dinner, I cut into the thick, red fruit with the same precision I used on the digital heart during the simulation section of my Graduation Evaluation, separating the ends from the whole. A tiny bit of juice spills onto the cutting board, and I pause for a moment, confused. For a second, I forgot I wasn’t operating on a heart, my thoughts temporarily shadowing my reality.

Elloh? my mother asks.

I snap to reality, and see my mother is looking at me with an expression of mild concern. Once, when I was very little, I told my mother about the images I sometimes see in my sleep, images of flying next to the birds in the sky, over the entire City. I remember her face scrunched up the same way it did when the black announcement of my grandmother's death came through the screens on our watches, and the strict tone of her voice when she said "If you talk like that, I’ll have to report you to the Officials. Dreaming is dangerous."

I apologize, mother, I say, now knowing better than to mention my imagined thoughts. I was thinking about my Life Purpose.

She smiles, visibly relieved. Of course you were. Here, why don't you let me finish that? You can set the table. Your sister is on her way.

She takes the knife from my hand, and begins dicing the tomato. I step away and start setting the table, focusing so much on the placement of each utensil my mind has no room for thoughts.

Sometimes, I think I should tell someone, warn everyone of my difference, and beg to be fixed. I’m not like you. Help me!

I’ve heard the horror stories of unChanged thoughts, how they alter perception and make the fake seem real, influencing behavior beyond reasonable control—a total slavery to the mind.

But I don’t feel like a slave to my thoughts.

Instead, I often feel it’s my thoughts that keep me free.

I.IV

The Rebel argument that the Change inhibits true emotional connection is disproven by the loving bonds between family members. Even with the Change, Citizens are able to form emotional connections with their loved ones, establishing a level of loyalty and trust that rivals any reckless Rebel attachment.

—from Why the Rebels are Wrong: A Thesis

Congratulations, Elloh, Ellah says when she arrives for dinner.

She's dressed in a long-sleeved, white dress and black thigh-high boots. Her hair is gathered around one shoulder, and her lips are painted a brighter red than usual. Her eyes light up when she smiles at me, stepping into the entryway and patting my shoulder.

I'm very proud of you, she says.

Thank you, Ellah, I say.

Are you nervous? she asks.

I shake my head. Not really, I say.

Well, you have nothing to worry about, she says, her