Dystopyum (The D-ot Hexalogy Book 1) (3 page)

ell, that was pretty good, wasn’t it?” Martha asked, with a
contented smile. Martha and Salom were in the kitchen,
cleaning up after a small LERN get-together. The last of their
friends had left a little while ago.

“You would never know that they were all in LERN,” Salom said.
“So many wonderful people, and they must all hide.” She paused, while
looking up thoughtfully, “Why is it the way it is?” She wore a light beige
dress tonight, and instead of her usual hooded outfits, Salom had adorned
herself with a headscarf that almost matched.

Martha knew what Salom meant.
Why do we have to hide such a
simple, wonderful thing as love?
Martha asked herself silently. She gave a
heavy sigh.

Salom changed the subject. “Hais is still complaining that he doesn’t
have a son yet,” she said. It was not the first time she had mentioned it,
for it had been weighing on her mind.

Martha was sorry for Salom. She knew Salom felt guilty for not giving Hais a son, and had been trying for the last four years. Martha had
wanted to avoid it, but dove in anyway asking, “Well, how often do you
two ‘do it’?”

Martha asked, wondering if she should see a doctor.
Salom fidgeted. “He doesn’t usually do it that way.” Salom looked
down again, with a wry grin now, peeking up shyly at Martha.
Martha became embarrassed, and shaking her head, said, “Males, they
are all keesh, aren’t they?” Then they both looked at each other and
started giggling, shaking their heads together.
The laughter lowered to silence. Not uncomfortable — comfortable.
Martha was thinking,
the time is right. Griswolt’s working late tonight, everyone has left, and the children are downstairs in Jan’s
bedroom.
Martha’s expression became serious. She looked at Salom.
“Rebecca’s going to be four years old shortly, like Jan. You know we
need to start.”
Salom’s gut tightened. She instinctively stalled. “Start what?” Her
instant change of body position to something more — tense betrayed her
false question.
Martha put down her towel, looking straight at Salom, deadpan, and
said, “You know exactly what. We can’t avoid it, we can’t run from it —
we’ve no choice but to prepare for it.”
Salom lowered her eyes from Martha’s gaze. “Love rehabilitation
school,” she said with resignation — head dropping, and posture going
with it. Because there were no males around now, Salom had taken her
headscarf off. Martha could not help but notice the deep scar from an old
gash that marred Salom’s smallish dark gray crest.
Martha became anxious just looking at Salom’s weathered face.
My
God, she is slumping so much she’s going to curl into the letter “Ac”,
she
thought.
I had better keep this rolling.
“We’ve got to start practicing for
it, Salom. And we also we have to tell the children, sooner or later,” she
said.
You have to pass!
Martha looked at Salom directly, forcing Salom to
return her gaze. “Have you talked to Rebecca?” Martha asked, knowing
the answer as she asked it.
“No — I haven’t had the time,” Salom responded, trying to brush it
off. She was now looking down at the scuffed pair of black shoes she was
wearing tonight.
“Maybe we should try, now,” Martha suggested. “We could bring the
children upstairs, and see how they respond, together.” Martha straightened up. She liked the idea of finally confronting this. “Maybe it will be
better if they are together.”
“How can you expect them to understand that they will be made to
hate us?” Salom blurted out, now crying.
She can’t lose it like this. Salom, please, get a hold of yourself! She’ll
never make it!
Martha’s mind raced with ideas of how to handle Salom.
“We need to do this, Salom! We must confront it, be ready, or — we
— will — fail!”
You will fail — and you might take me with you.
Just then the children appeared. The raised voices had drawn them.
Jan was wearing his new yeta costume. He was looking at his mother
through the big mouth of the head mask.
“I don’t hate you Mama,” Rebecca said.
Martha took charge. “Jan, sweetie, come over here with Rebecca.”
They came over to Martha’s side of the table.
She continued, “You know we love you both, right?”
They children shook their heads affirmatively.
“Well, do you remember that I said we had to go away to a special
school when you become five years old?” Martha asked.
They both shook their heads, “No.”
Martha sighed, and looked at Salom, who was paying rapt attention.
Martha looked back at the children. “Jan, do you remember when I told
you about the bad police that hate the word ‘love’?”
Jan gravely nodded his head, “Yes”.
“And do you remember what they will do if they hear the word
‘love’?”
Jan thought a second, and with a flash of inspiration said, “They will
take us away forever to jail.”
“Very good, Jan.” Martha said. “But really, they will kill us both.”
Salom was shocked. “Martha!”
Martha gave Salom a sharp look, and said, “Neither of them even
remembered about the school. This is real, and I need to get their
attention. We need them to remember, so that we are all prepared.”
Jan’s stomach started to ache. He pulled his head mask off and said,
“I don’t want to talk anymore.”
Salom butted in, and said, “I agree, Martha. Let’s stop this. It was
such a nice evening.”
Martha would not be dissuaded. “The fact is that this is going to
happen, and we all need to practice for it. She turned to Jan. “Jan, the bad
police want to make sure I don’t love you. They want to make sure that
you don’t love me. If we can get them to believe that, then everything will
be OK, OK?”
“OKaaaaayyeeeeee, Jan said, stomping one foot. He looked at her
quizzically and responded, “You want me to pretend that I don’t love
you?”
“Yes! Yes!” Martha was relieved that he understood
part
of it, at
least. “I just want to warn you, so that you are ready. When you are ready
to turn five next year, we will have to pretend that we don’t love each
other.”
“Like a game?” Jan asked.
Rebecca was standing there, turning her head back and forth between
the two of them, trying to follow.
“Yes, Jan. Like a game.” Martha paused. “We will have to pretend to
fight.”
Jan did not like that. He did not want to hear anymore. “I don’t want
to fight with you!” He ran out of the kitchen, angry, and into the living
room.
Martha started to feel like she was sinking. She looked at Jan running,
then Rebecca, and then her eyes landed on Salom. Poor, weak Salom.
Nobody was ready.
Nobody’s going to be ready. They are going to torture
us, kill our love, and nobody is going to be ready.
She looked at Salom
again. She shook her head in defeat.
Is Salom going to make it, or not?
It’s up to me to get her ready — and what about Jan? My sweet baby Jan.
She had a flash in her mind’s eye of Jan strapped to the torture chair,
receiving extreme jolts of electricity, and she just as quickly chased the
flash away. She found herself crying aloud, to no one in particular,
repeatedly slapping her hand on the kitchen table, “No! No, no, no, no,
no! I can’t take it. I just can’t. Nobody’s going to be ready.” Now Martha
broke down sobbing.
Jan heard this, and came back from the living room. He and Rebecca
instinctively came over to Martha, and stroked her arms, telling her that
she would be OK.
But it wasn’t going to be OK, and she knew it.
Salom decided to help out, in her own dramatic way. “Listen, I’ve had
enough of this!” she said resolutely. “There’s no way out of it. In one
year, the NOV is going to take us for four weeks, whether we like it or
not. They are going to make us hate each other so much that the love is
gone
—
gone
! Wiped from our minds.” Salom rapped her short stubby
fingerclaws on the table for emphasis. “It always happens. We’ve seen it
time and time again.” She was staring at Rebecca the whole time. Now
Rebecca was looking down.
Martha felt a surge of inspiration. She looked up at Salom, then down
at Jan. He startled her with the look he was returning.
So deep for a child
of your age,
she thought, as she looked into his questioning eyes. “Not for
those who prepare!” she exhorted.
Jan was holding Martha’s hand tightly now, and looking up at her as
if to say,
Tell me this isn’t true, it’s not true, is it?
Martha had the feeling that they had confronted it enough, and said,
“I think the children have had their fill for now. This burden won’t go
away until we get through it. There’s no sense in obsessing about it,
especially if we haven’t practiced yet.” She looked at Salom, who
returned her gaze, understanding.
“Practicing hate! I can’t believe I need to do this”, Salom said. “Rebecca, let’s go home. I’m tired and we have a baby coming over early
tomorrow morning.” She looked at Martha and said, “Those people down
at the processing plant in Havenworth are idiots. They make you so
nervous, you forget things.”
Martha knew what was coming.
Salom lost another job. Hais has got
to be angry.

Salom continued, “So they fired me just because I dropped something
and it broke. I’m just going to babysit for now, and Jena down the street is
dropping her baby off tomorrow morning.”

Martha hesitated, but decided,
why not?
“It would be great if Jan
could stay at your house instead of daycare. The more he’s there, the
more sores he gets.”

Salom was delighted, and broke into a big, toothy smile, (which could
be kind of scary sometimes.) “Oh I was hoping you would ask! Hais and I
could sure use the money.”

Martha was glad that her decision picked Salom up so much.
It will
also help keep that bastard off your back.
“It’s settled then, I’ll drop Jan
off tomorrow morning.”

Salom rose, and got Rebecca ready to go. They said their goodbyes,
and parted ways for the evening. Griswolt was still late at work. A little
later Jan had gone to bed. The evening was hers. This was a good time to
study the writings, and to prepare her letter as well. Martha went into the
bedroom, reached her hand behind the heavy painting of the NOV Temple
on the bedroom wall, and pulled out a big envelope. She went to her small
desk in the bedroom corner and had a seat. She opened the envelope,
which was filled with various pages and scraps of scriptures and
devotions to love. Martha pulled out her favorite ones, and read them.
These writings had survived for centuries, and were very rare. Martha’s
mother handed most of them down to her. She had scribed copies for
LERN, but kept the originals. There were twenty-three in all, some just
scraps a few inches long. Then she opened a desk drawer, retrieved a
blank page of the familiar white metallic paper, and began to write.

LERN advised all mothers preparing for love-deprogramming school
to write a letter to themselves before going there. LERN members had to
stay away upon the mother’s return home, for fear of the spies that would
randomly stake out such homes hoping to capture them. The letter was
meant to be read upon the mother’s return from the school. It existed to
remind herself of who she was before the love-deprogramming took
place. She was to include loving pictures of her and her child stored along
with the letter. She had scenes of normal activities, like eating together, or
sitting outside, or playing. Martha had taken pictures with Salom and
Rebecca for this purpose as well. There were quite a few photographs of
them hugging and kissing. It took her about an hour to write the letter. It
was difficult, but had to be done.

Afterwards, Martha stored everything away back behind the painting.
She then went back to her desk chair, sat down, and meditated. She
meditated on love. She meditated on thanking the source of love, and
feeling it grow. She was an outlaw love-lover, plain and simple. She
loved it, but knew she was supposed to give it up a few months before the
school started. After she was done, Martha went to bed. Her work in the
mines started early in the morning.

Jan went to Rebecca’s house the next morning, and almost every day
from then on when his parents were at work. There were good days and
bad. The bad days were typically when Salom’s husband Hais was home.
Hais was usually drinking tuba, and it made his breath stink. He would
reliably pick on Salom, or insult Rebecca. There was almost never a day
that Hais and Salom did not fight. Hais treated Rebecca much better when
he took her alone to hognot matches. He would much rather have had a
son to bring.

About six months had passed…
Jan was spending yet another day at Salom’s house. It was laid out
differently from Jan’s house, having a living room/kitchen combination.
A light beige coat of paint on the walls had black-and-brown-stenciled
forms of various animal shapes along the upper part of the walls as they
joined the ceiling that used to be white.
“Salom! Where’s my rawhide hat?” Hais hollered from downstairs.
“How should I know? I don’t wear it!” Salom yelled back from the
kitchen upstairs.
Here we go again,
thought Jan, looking at Rebecca.
Rebecca pretended not to notice. She was practicing knitting, and she
was becoming quite skilled at it, for being only four and a half years old
now. “They always yell,” she said. “It’s no big deal. I think that’s just
how grown-ups talk. You want to go to my room?”
“No, that’s OK,” Jan replied. He was working on a puzzle on the
living room floor beside Rebecca. Rebecca was sitting in a little chair her
size, knitting, just like her mama did. She appeared to be quite pleased
with herself.
Hais came upstairs, huffing and puffing. He was wearing his usual
attire for hitting the bars. He liked tan suede, and if his color choice varied
at all, it went to brown. He usually kept his work helmet on long past
working hours, but liked to wear hats in any case. His crest was short and
wide, like his body. Aletians prided themselves on their tall crests, and so
he was not considered particularly fetching. Alcohol helped, (for the
object of his attraction.) He was not faithful in the least, but Salom was
afraid to confront him when he came home covered in some other
female’s scent. This was because he was typically also awash with the
stench of alcohol, and that meant a beating if she did not handle it
perfectly.
He was still looking for his rawhide hat. The suede hat needed
cleaned. “It’s got to be here somewhere. I just know you did something
with it! You’re always hiding my stuff — you don’t know how important
it is!”
“I saw it last week in the shed,” said Salom. Why don’t you look out
there?”
Hais got angrier. “I’ve been in and out of the shed all week, you idiot!
Don’t you think I would have seen it?”
Salom got up, and went outside to check. In a minute, she was back
with the hat. “Here you go smartass!” she said. He was not drunk yet, but
she knew he would have a comeback. Salom looked at Jan, “By the way
Jan, your mom is home now.”
Hais was far from beaten. “You think you’re so smart. How are you
gonna think your way out of love-deprogramming school? It’s only five
months from now!” He had an evil smile on his face. He knew that would
knock her down a peg or two.
“I’ll be ready,” Salom said with phony confidence. “Martha and I are
preparing.”
“Oh yeah? How are you gonna prepare for RSE?” he shot back.
Random Sublethal Electrocution, otherwise known as RSE, was the
Nation of Vengeance’s torture method of choice.
“Oh shut up!” Salom screamed, covering her ears.
He had her now. No time to let up for a true ela. “You know that
everyone that goes to jail now has to wear an RSE collar no matter what
the crime?” His nostrils flared as he projected another twisted smile.
Jan and Rebecca were still within vision and earshot of the argument.
Jan was paying rapt attention, while Rebecca still pretended not to notice.
“Yep, that’s right,” Hais continued. “Now every regular prisoner gets
at least one random shock every week, no matter what they are in jail
for.” He paused, embracing the idea. “I think it’s great! Half the ones in
prison are love-lovers waiting for their trials anyway. They need to have
their brains fried.”
“Why do you hate them so much?” asked Salom, tauntingly.
“I hate them because they’re weak! They spread lies and laziness! I
hate love! It is a stupid superstition, and the Temple of the NOV is right!”
Hais continued with his rant, “Love is like a magic trick, it’s fake and
empty! There’s nothing there, and these idiots spread it to their kids!”
Salom shot back, “You talk about the Temple? Hah! The only time
you go is for the child-burnings!”
Hais retorted, “The Temple is right about love! They hate it, and so
do I, just like any decent citizen!”
“Well now,” Salom thought aloud, “How can you get so angry at
something that doesn’t exist?”
Hais opened his mouth for his next response, but there was none. Just
an empty big mouth. “Oh, just shut up!” he retorted lamely. He needed to
regain the attack. “You won’t be so cocky in love rehabilitation. They do
RSE on you every day there.”
Salom’s gut tightened. The thought took the wind out of her.
No!
She
sat up straight, and said to herself, “I can take it. I can take it. I’m ready
for it.”
Hais wasn’t about to lose the argument. “What about Rebecca?” he
gave his evil grin again and they both looked at Rebecca and Jan, and
then back at each other again.
Her fear was now replaced with revulsion. Salom’s face contorted,
“You disgust m —”
The words were barely out of her mouth when she received a backhanded smack from Hais to her mouth. He had her timing down to a “T”,
and was ready to give himself the opportunity to show her who was boss.
Jan jumped, startled. He had seen Hais hit Salom before, but the
tension of the moment, and the words he just heard made his reaction
more exaggerated.
Salom cried out when he hit her, and she held her face in her hands,
now weeping.
Hais looked disgusted, picked up his hat, and left for the bars. The
door slammed behind him.
Salom had taken a seat in the kitchen, where she was silently sobbing.
Rebecca, distracted for only a moment, was back to her knitting.
Jan was replaying the words he had heard — especially the words
about what would happen to Rebecca.
If that electric thing is going to
happen to Rebecca, then it’s going to happen to me, too — and Mama.
Jan wanted to know more. “Let’s go ask your mom what she knows about
love habit-shun school,” he said to Rebecca.
Rebecca was still just sitting and knitting. She seemed oblivious to
everything, including Jan now. She did not answer.
So he asked again, and Rebecca ignored him again. When he asked a
third time, she stopped knitting, and looked at him very seriously —
announcing, “I don’t want to talk about it.” Rebecca started knitting again
for a few seconds, then stopped and looked at Jan again, “I don’t want to
think about it.” Then she went back to her knitting, but this time a tear
developed in her eye. Then there was another tear — followed by another.
She sniffed. She would not look anywhere but her hands.
Jan suddenly realized that Rebecca knew what was really going to
happen in that school that everyone was afraid of.
He asked Rebecca, “Why were they talking about jail? We’re not
going to jail — we’re going to a school, right?”
Rebecca would not answer. She pursed her lips, and kept right on
knitting.
Jan was getting frustrated. “Rebecca, look at me!” he yelled. She
would not look.
He glanced over at Rebecca’s mom. She was still sitting at the kitchen
table — just sitting, staring at her hands.
He tried again. “Rebecca, don’t you want to know? Let’s ask your
mama.”
He received no response from Rebecca.
Jan was afraid, and became angry. He was still anxious from the
recent drama, and now he was full of questions and getting no answers.
“I’m leaving!” he said, loudly and angrily. He stormed out of the
house, almost raging.
Jan was halfway to his house when Rebecca came out of her house,
slamming the door behind her. He turned and stopped as she ran up to
him.
“I’ll tell you,” Rebecca said, catching her breath and displaying a very
grave expression on her young face.
They went around behind Jan’s house. His house had a risen façade.
It was not actually functional, but it looked fancy, a little like an
aboveground house. Usually, when Jan was behind his house he would
make it a point to look up into the sky, because nobody could see him
there. He often wondered why they were not allowed to do it.
“Why can’t we look up in the sky?” he would ask his dad, and Griswolt would have to tell him the same story again, “The Temple of the
NOV has decreed that for God to bless us, we must submit to his
judgment of us as deeply inferior sinners. According to the Temple, it is
arrogant for us to look up into the heavens, God’s home, and therefore, a
sin. It is contempt of God. If we do not commit this sin, we will be
blessed as a people. The nations we destroyed committed this sin, and
look, where are they now?”
When they were behind the cream yellow façade, Rebecca stalled.
She sat down, and picked at the clean, rounded, yellow-orange decorative
gravel that was there.
Jan was in no mood — “Well, tell me! What’s going to happen to
us?” Jan asked. “You said you would tell me!”
Rebecca just wanted to be with him, and not her mom — or her dad.
She looked at him and said, “I hear my mom and dad arguing about it all
the time. I’m sick of it.” She looked down and shook her head. “There’s
nothing anybody can do. They are going to take us away from everybody.” She started sobbing. “They are going to put us in jail, and put
electricity in us, and hurt us until we forget everything.” Rebecca was
shaking now, uncontrollably. She stopped talking, and slowly looked up
at Jan, still sobbing, shivering — searching for a reaction. Anything.
Jan could not imagine it. His stomach sank into a tight ball, and he
retorted, “I don’t believe you! What are you talking about? Nobody is
going to hurt us! You’re lying!” The more he talked, and the more he saw
the look on her face, the more his fear climbed. The reality of it was
becoming too “real”.
Denial was the only option. Jan abandoned his friend, leaving Rebecca sitting there sobbing. He ran around the front of his house, terrified, as
fast as his feet could take him, and on through his front door. “Mama —
she’ll know!” he said to himself with resolve, tight lips and stony gaze.
Martha had been home from her job in the mineral processing plant
for a little over fifteen minutes. In that short time she had taken off her
light-blue ela leather jacket, kicked off her boots, and was relaxing with
her eyes closed on the easy chair in the living room. After a long hard day
at work, she would find herself feeling like she was sinking materially
through the chair, like melting. It felt good, and was “recharging” for her.
She was almost “there” when Jan came inside, slamming the door loudly
enough to make Martha’s face twitch and wince.
Martha thought to herself,
I’m going to have to talk to Jan about th —
“Mama! There you are! Jan was out of breath and shaking.
Martha, startled by his appearance, sat forward. “What’s the matter,
baby? Come here.” She reached out her arms and motioned for him to
come and sit on her lap.
Jan came across the room and said, “I don’t want to. I just want to
hold your hand, OK?”
Martha was becoming more concerned than curious now. She leaned
forward from her chair, and held his hand. “What’s wrong?” she asked
with a worried look on her face.
Jan looked up at her. He had “the look”.
This is going to be bad,
Martha thought to herself, but still not sure
where this was going. She looked into his troubled eyes. “What’s wrong,
Jan? Tell me.”
He straightened up, and blurted it out, “Tell me about love re-hapshun
school! Tell me!”
Martha pulled away slightly.
Love-rehabilitation school. They must
have been talking about it over Salom’s house.
She sighed —
I’m really
not ready for this now.
Truth was, she had been putting it out of her mind
of late. She had to — it just made a day so miserable when she thought
about it. She studied Jan.
It looks like he’s ready.
Martha gave another
sigh.
I’d better let him start with what he knows.
“What did you hear
about love-rehabilitation school?”
Jan didn’t wait — he knew exactly what he wanted to ask. “Do they
shock us with electricity?”
It was the last question Martha wanted to hear. She blinked, startled,
and shook her head. She wanted to lie. She
really
wanted to lie.
I am. I’m
going to lie to him. I just can’t — can’t face this.
Jan was insistent. “Will they shock us like they did in daycare?”
The NOV required that all children be subjected to “Sublethal Electrocution”, (“SE”,) once, by the time they were four years old. “The fear
of God” was the rationale. They used a collar device on the neck, which
networked with ankle and wrist electrical bracelets. It produced a twentythousand volt shock, at a low enough amperage that would not kill. That
was not the only thing it did, though. It was able to produce a five-inch
“field” around the collar wearer. This outer field would draw the
electricity, as if the outer field were grounded. Thus, arcs would develop
in the body, and their blue sparks would exit through the skin to the field
around the body. This produced skin and scale wounds. Some of these
would squirt blood and bleed profusely if the arc exit point were near a
larger blood vessel. While the engineering of the SE system would have
been easier had they used direct current, they opted for alternating current
instead, because it produced tremendous tetanic spasming of muscles, and
the most agony. When in prison, the collars were programmed for
“Random Sublethal Electrocution” (RSE.) The number of electrocutions
per day or week could be programmed into the collar. Animal studies had
shown that random shocks were the quickest way to producing temporary
insanity. Love retreated from consciousness in this state. Other variables
such as amplitude, pulse width, and frequency were easily programmed
into the unit as well.
Jan was still waiting for an answer, but he was bright enough to know
that his mother’s delay in answering meant only one thing:
It’s true,
he
thought to himself. He did not want to accept it.
I can run away with
Rebecca!
He thought.
Yep, that’s what I’m gonna do.
“I’m running
away!” he said defiantly.
Martha just looked at him. “My God, if we only could run away!” she
said, shaking her head and now rubbing her hands together nervously.