Art by @Mori_art_ti

Challenge: sword

"Sword in the Stone"

Idea by @mere_inkslinger

A/U: Pollution/radition has caused most to be infertile.

@mere_inkslinger

"Marie! Marie! Wake up! Are you okay?" Janette pried at me.

"...Yeah, I'm fine. What's wrong?" I sat up now and was looking around for anything she could be talking about.

"Marie! There's... blood. It's... are you okay?" Janette was looking at my bed.

I was laying in a pool of blood. There was blood all over my bed.

Oh my gosh. Did I cut myself? I must have. I must have cut myself in the night. It happens to other people all the time, right? These beds in the camp, I must not be used to them.

"I'm going to get the nurse!" Amanda cried, rushing out the door.

"Move the blanket!" Janette ordered. She was trying to stay calm, but people aren't suppost to bleed like this. The most I have ever heard anyone bleeding is when Robert had to donate blood for the blood bank.

Away came the red sheet, but niether Janette nor I could find the cut. Other girls from the cabin were gathering around, whispering. They stood there, watching me.

Janette stood up, and it was quiet. I could hear some of the things the girls were saying. Scary things.

"...she's a Bearer," Macy breathed.

A Bearer? I was not a Bearer. Bearers are so rare, I couldn't possibly...

Besides, there are so many other symptoms of Bearing that I have never shown.

When Macy had been heard, one by one, my friends, my sisters, my family, stepped away.

They turned their heads.

No one wanted to be too close to a Bearer.

No one wanted to help a Bearer.

'Bearing. Is. Contagious!' I remembered professor Wu instructing. 'If anyone, sees, hears about, or even suspects that someone is a Bearer, male or female, they should be reported, immediatley!'

'Please remember, young people. If you don't report a case, you could infect yourself, the person's friends, the school, or even the whole population! For your own safety, Bearers will be kept away from others. It's the most humane, safe, and effective way to handle their kind.'

Their Kind.

I'm a apart of their kind.

I'm not the person I thought I was.

Now I will never be the person I have always planned to be.

The nurse stepped through the doorway. She dropped her first-aid-kit. A hand want over a mouth to muffle a cry.

Janette was still staring at me. Her eyes were wet. I had never seen so many tear streaks.

"Come with me, now. Leave everything here. Don't touch anything." the Nurse coaxed.

I stood. Janette lifted her face. I watched her. Janette backed away from me.

Outside, I stood on the porch.

"Walk to my office and wait." I heard from behind. My feet wouldn't move. Blood slid down my leg, which was washed away by the pounding rain.

My bare toes lifted from the soaking wood as I took the long walk from the cabins to the nurse's station.

Inside, I waited. A police car pulled up. The other girls were taken to the cafeteria to wait. The cabins were disinfected.

A woman in a full surgical gown, gloves, a mask, boots and a head covering came in the office.

Her hands were shaking.

She examined me. She touched me gingerly.

I was dressed for transportation.

A large, black truck drove up.

"You have been identified as a bearer. We need to ask you some questions."

I was asked if I knew other bearers, if I had experienced any of the expected symptoms, when did they start, where I live, who my parents are...

The questions went on and on.

Everyone was covered.

They were scared.

Of me.

..........

I wiped my eyes. A man walked in. He was not wearing personal protective equiptment. No mask. No gown. No gloves.

"I'm here to tell you something you can never tell anyone else." I raised my head to listen to him.

"You are a part of the .5% of the human population that is fertile. We believe this is a genetic resistance to modern pollutants, but in reality we aren't sure. You are not contagious. No Bearer is. The public is told that Bearers are unnatural and should be turned in at all costs. This is because we need people like you for 'Operation: Gene Survivor.' This operation is crutial to preventing the extinction of the human race. All of your kind and people like you live in a private government facility. You will not be told where that is, but only that you are going there. Remember, you are a crucial component to continuing human life. Everything that you need to know, you have been told."

As the man turned to leave, I cried out, "Wait!" He stopped halfway through the door. The man turned.

"What does my family think?" I asked him.

"Your family has been told that you were killed in a repelling accident."

"What about the other girls wo saw me?"

"They were told the same story."

I gave him a curious stare.

"Don't worry. They will remember your death soon enough."

He turned to leave.

"What about Janette?" the sounds slipped thru my lips.

The man turned and looked me in the eyes. Then, he was gone.

@minipage

We were the prized. The treasured.

Anyone who could have kids was an invaluable resource to the Federation. As soon as you turned 16, you were tested for fertility. If you got a positive result, you spent the next twenty years pregnant nine months out of the year.

It was all bad. You were kept in the Palace as a special guest of honor. You got servants, food, gowns, and a warm bed, which was more than most citizens had.

Currently there were ten Fertiles in the entire Federation, meaning our population only increased by 10 people a year. If we were lucky, there was a set of twins.

Population was hardly the Federation's biggest issue, but they liked to treat it like the biggest problem. People were starving. I was starving.

Up until my 16th birthday, that is.

My test came back positive. Government agents showed up in my house, armed, in all white, the Leader's color of choice. The color of purity. The color of new birth.

I struggled and resisted. I was starving but my life was here. My friends. My family. My---

Every aspect of the Fertile's lives were controlled, right down to the amount of food they ate and who they saw and for how long. Unapproved relationship were--- illegal.

They would control everything now.

My first night at the Palace was spent in sterile hospital rooms, bright lights coming and going, doctors poking and prodding. I could only cry and attempt to forget my old life. There would be nothing left for me when I returned. Very few people lived beyond thirty here.

When I woke up the next morning everything was soft.

The light coming in through the windows, the pillows, the sheets, my hair, my skin.

Soft and gentle. So different from the harsh lights and sharp knives of last night.

I didn't want to move.

"Miss?" a soft, gentle, unfamilar voice.

I opened my eyes and sat up, sinking farther into the pillow-top mattress.

"Would you like breakfast?"

A tiny girl with mousy brown hair stood before me.

"Yes," I said, as timidly as possible. She looked terrified. Why? She didn't even know me.

She disappeared. I didn't remember entering this room. It looked like all the picures on the TV screens. Fabrics were drapped everywhere. The walls were painted a shimmering gold, trimmed with white wood. A fire crackled from somewhere in the room, probably a brick fireplace.

I climbed out of bed. Where was I expected to be? What was I supposed to do?

I really wanted to be home.

There was another knock at the door, similar to the one that had woken me up.

"Come in," I said.

An elegantly dressed woman entered, her face adorned with little crystals in all the right places.

"Good morning," she said. Her hair was pulled back into a tight brown bun. "I see you're a late riser."

"Wha-" A clock on the wall read 10:24.

"No problem, of course. It's not like there's anything to be done today," she said. She looked around my room, judging it. "My name is Jezebelle."

"Hello," I said. She stepped into the room.

"You're young," she said, almost like a coo.

"Aren't most of the girls-"

"Yes. But it's been awhile," Jezebelle said with a sigh.

I stole a glance at her stomach. She didn't look pregnant.

"Three months," she said. "I've had 15 already."

"15-" 15 kids.

"I'm ready for 20. That's the one you get to raise, you know," she said. She stepped beside me and picked up a lock of my hair, letting it drop gracefully back into it's spot.

"You'll fit right in here," she said.

"How do you-"

"After 15 years, I just know," she said.

There was another knock at the door. The maid had returned with a tray of breakfast. Jezebelle made a graceful exit as the maid set the tray on the small tea table near the massive window.

"You have nothing planned today, miss," the maid said.

"Do I usually have stuff planned?" I asked, as I took my seat. The plate was full of rich foods. Blood oranges. Sweetened oatmeal with banana chunks. Sweetened coffee. Sweet. Sweet. Sweet-

"Usually, yes," the maid said. "But it's your first day so-"

There was a knock at the door. The maid scurried to answer it.

"Miss!"

The maid cried out and I jumped to my feet. Men in all white were entering the room.

"Are you 4920375?" one asked. That was a Federation ID number. But it wasn't mine.

"No," I said. 4920377. That was my number. There had been some sort of mix up. This could be fixed. A wrong ID number... That could be fixed. "4920377."

"She's an imposter. A rebel spy-"

"Rebel?" I was panicking now.

They had discovered my secret.

I was done with that though.

I hadn't helped the Rebels in---

"Rebel flames must be exterminated."

"No!"

Black.