Cull
Zia Black
Copyright
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2012 - Zahra Brown (pseudonym: 'Zia Black')
All rights reserved.
License Notes
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold, or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and you did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to smashwords.com and purchase your own copy.
Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Zia Black, www.ziablack.com, 2012.
Cover Children Image: Copyright iStockphoto.com/a-digit (business name: A-Digit)
Cover Background Image: Copyright iStockphoto.com/veenamari
CONTENTS
I would like to apologise for killing you.
A long time ago, I made a fatal mistake. I set off a chain of events that destroyed your life. Events that killed everyone you love. Events that stole everything you worked so hard for. Events that will not go down in history. Events that have changed history, forever. Events I will share with you now.
I know what you're thinking: I've heard it all before. You think you know, and you do. However, you don't know the truth. I am here to tell you the truth, the version that was hidden from you until it was too late. Until you were too weak to act, to fight back, but still strong enough to surrender.
You've seen everything from an outside perspective. You've seen the media reports. The headlines. The front page. The chaos online. The madness on your street, outside your front door, in your home.
They thrive on fear. When I explain to you what's been happening, you will still be afraid, if not more so. So what's the point? you ask. The point is that informed fear can be overcome, overpowered. When you know who your demons are, you can face them. Right now, you have no idea what you're facing.
You will know soon enough.
Once again, I'm sorry. I dreamed a monster, but I should have left it in my nightmares. Instead, I tore it from the inner workings of my mind. Awake, I shaped and moulded it, and then showed it to my superiors. I still remember the evil glint in their eyes. A week later, my monster was unleashed onto the world.
It will kill everyone.
Even me.
I deserve it, I know.
I am ready to die.
"Demon Janesh," a guy whispered. "My kid can't afford a degree 'cause of him!"
I turned round and headed straight for the man. He walked away but I called him again and again until all eyes were on us. Red-faced and sweating profusely, he turned to face me.
"Excuse me, young man," I said. "Were you speaking to me?"
"No, sir. I was talkin' to Mickey."
I eyed up the guy standing close by, his white cheeks turning pink. I pointed at the floor next to me and he moved over, his eyes focused downwards. Then I circled them both as the workers gathered around us.
"I could have sworn that you mentioned my name."
"No, sir, I was talkin' about Mickey."
"Mickey?" I turned to Mickey, who saluted me when I approached him. "Is your name Janesh too?"
Mickey shook his head.
"Is your name Demon?"
He shook his head again, his hands trembling.
"So who was he talking about?" I clasped the taser gun on my holster. "Should I repeat the question?"
"No, sir!" Mickey gulped. "I...I can't remember who he was talking about, sir."
"Really?" I pulled out the gun. "Really, 788956?"
"Please, sir!" Mickey dropped to his knees and clasped his hands. "I didn't say anything! I agree with all your policies! You're my idol!"
"And what about your friend here?"
"Duncan isn't my friend. Just an acquaintance, sir!" Mickey saluted me again. "There's no friends around here!"
"Why not?"
"Because Cull leads by example. Everything and everyone is disposable." Mickey stood to attention. "Everyone including Duncan, 788955."
"Good, good." I turned back to Duncan. "Any last requests before I terminate you?"
"Please, sir!" It was Duncan's turn to drop to his knees. "If I lose this job, I can't send my kids to school. My son's skipping uni because of last week's ruling. We're struggling as-"
"Any last requests before I terminate you?"
Duncan's head and shoulders drooped.
"Then get out."
"Mister Janesh?" asked the dumpy blue-eyed blonde offering her hand. "Miss J Reed.
"An American...Who are you?"
"Your new secretary."
"Where is the old one?"
"She is on medical leave," she said. "The bomb attack was a bit too much."
"It's permanent."
"No, just temporary."
"No, it is permanent." I took the former secretary's card off the desk and handed it to her replacement. "Put it on. Do not leave it lying around like she did, understand?"
"I wouldn't dream of it!" She pinned the card to her breast and smiled. "How can I help you?"
"How is expenditure?"
Reed took the black folder from the desk and turned to the last page. She skimmed down the figures and stopped at the bottom.
"Savings were going up until August," she said. "Then expenditure rose again."
I thumped the desk and shoved the papers onto the floor. Reed backed away, the folder shaking in her hands. She waited patiently until I got my breath back, and then showed me the figures.
"Where's the leak?" I asked. "Don't show, tell! It's your job! God, that bloody woman didn't say a word! All this time she kept her mouth shut and let...Remember to cancel any injury compensation. She doesn't deserve to be rewarded for her incompetence!"
"Yes, sir." Reed scrawled on the notepad on the desk. "I looked over the figures this morning and saw what a fantastic job you've done thus far. Unfortunately, there is one area left to cut."
"What?"
"The animals."
"But the animal expenses went up, didn't they?"
"Yes, sir. A small dog licence now costs five hundred pounds, a healthy rise from the three hundred this time last year."
"The insurance?"
"One thousand per year. There was a low uptake rate until the veterinarians agreed to raise their fees. A routine health check-up was priced at fifty pounds last month. Coupled with the January rise in VAT, it now costs one and fifty pounds. They may throw in some extra test or two. So far, there are many complaints."
"Who cares," I said. "Britons love to complain. Trust me. They won't do a thing about it."
"Britons do love their dogs!" Reed poured herself a glass of water and I wagged my finger. "Sir?"
"Do not drink on the job."
"I just need a brief break, sir. I have worked since 8am."
"I cut the breaks! Why take an hour off when you could leave work an hour early?"
"Yes..."
Reed put the glass down and took the notepad and pen from the desk. I paced up and down, muttering to myself. Suddenly I spun round and thumped my fist on the desk.
"It's time," I said. "No more pissing about!"
"What do you mean, sir?"
"These morons keep breeding the bloody things! The prices have gone up and up but these morons still breed the animals like they're on the verge of extinction. What do we really need dogs for? They could die out and it wouldn't make a difference."
"I agree, sir."
"Do you really?"
Reed nodded slowly and smiled.
"Your loyalty will be tested," I said. "Are you ready?"
"Just say the word!"
"Good girl."
After Cull's announcement, the media was silent. No one expected it. This was a good thing because it meant the press couldn't speak out right away. They'd prepared false reports and wrong headlines that needed to be trashed. While they were readying their stance, I sought out the public's reaction.
"Reed, turn on the television!"
"Yes, sir!"
She scurried over to me and took the remote control lying on the desk. She turned on the television and then slipped the remote into my hand before stepping back.
I didn’t have a favourite station - television just isn't the same when you control the media - so I picked the channel with the hottest news reporter. Her natural blonde ponytail, perky breasts, and supermodel legs were the perfect start to a cold, rainy Monday morning.
The new legislation was on every major station. The reporters were still on the fence, so they let the public do the talking.
"It's madness," a woman cried to the reporter. "They're not taking my Jessie away! I won't let them."
The camera flashed to a grubby man sitting by a store entrance. He flashed his yellow teeth at the camera and stood up to speak into the microphone.
"What do you think of Cull's recent legislation?" the reporter asked.
"It's crazy, innit?" The man wiped his snotty nose on his sleeve. "My dog's the only friend I got out here. No one cares but him."
"Cull's latest act will get Royal Assent by 12am. Do you understand what this means for your pet?"
The man patted his knee and an Alsatian rushed over. It licked his dirty fingers and rolled over. The man rubbed the dog's stomach and then stuffed a treat into its mouth. The camera zoomed in on the dog panting, its tail wagging.
"No one's taking my boy," the man said. "He's mine and that's final."
The camera cut to a little girl playing with a kitten in her front garden. Her mother carried the kitten over with her daughter following behind. The reporter stroked the cat and thrust the microphone into the girl's freckled face.
"Have you heard about the new law?"
The girl nodded.
"This means they'll take away your little kitty." The camera zoomed in on the girl's teary eyes. "Does that make you feel sad?"
The girl burst into tears. Her mother put the cat down and grabbed the microphone. The camera followed the little girl running back into the house before it returned to the mother angrily tapping her foot.
"Those Cull bastards have gone too far!" she spat. "All these cuts are killing us! My daughter ain't at school because the head can't afford the teachers. My boy graduated with a first class degree in Law, but he can't find work because Cull cut business funding, which cut all the bloody jobs! I want those Cull bastards to stop screwing Britain over! We ain't giving in to their demands. We ain't moving out of town so those rich plonkers can swan in. Oh, and we definitely ain't killing our pets! I paid damn good money for that friggin' cat!"
"Turn it off," I said, tired of the constant moaning. "Wasn't anyone on our side?"
"...No." Reed sighed heavily and flicked through the channels. "No one."
Every station had angry citizens bashing my policies. The media was neutral, for now, just waiting to confirm whether the tide would turn.
Now I had to make sure it did.
"Reed, call Miss Ivory King."
"Who, sir?"
"She is Chief Executioner. Tell her I need her services immediately."
Reed picked up the phone and flicked through the phone book.
"What if she's busy?" she asked.
"I don't care," I said. "If she doesn't come now, she's fired."
Ivory King strode into my office and sat opposite me, and crossed her slender tanned legs. She offered me a stick of gum but I declined. I hated chewing like a goat at the office. She placed a stick on her tongue and slowly rolled it into her mouth. I shifted uncomfortably and she laughed.
"How can I help you, Mister Janesh?"
"Time to act."
"What should I execute?"
"Nothing major this time. I need some dead animals."
Ivory smiled.
"I heard about Cull's latest order. Must I kill my lovely cat?"
"You know it's just for the masses," I said. "Just keep her indoors and no one will be any wiser."
"So what's this about dead animals, then?" she asked. "I can bring some hunted carcasses but-"
"No, I need dead pets. I need you to kill them."
Ivory nodded slowly.
"I need some today."
"It will be done tonight," she said. "It will make a lovely headline tomorrow morning when the Leaks have worked their magic."
"What's the plan?" Reed asked.
"Doesn't she know protocol?" Ivory snapped.
"We never discuss business matters in detail," I said. "We make a request and it is granted. That is all. How it was granted is none of our business."
"Yes, sir!"
Reed stepped behind me again.
"Which animals would you prefer?" Ivory asked.
"Dogs and cats. The epitome of domestication."
"Do you want to write this down?" Reed asked.
Ivory rose from the chair and planted a kiss on my cheek. I felt my groin burning as she walked away, swinging her hips from side to side. At the door, she turned back and frowned at Reed.
"Darling, everything is right up here." Ivory tapped her head. "I do not need an assistant."
"Sorry, I just-"
Ivory slammed the door shut and her high heels faded from earshot. I swivelled round to Reed and exhaled.
"What happens next?" she asked.
"We wait."
I rushed into the office and closed the door behind me. Reed was waiting by the television, the remote in hand. She greeted me and I snatched the remote. Quickly I flipped through the stations, and clapped merrily at the main headlines.
"Another dangerous dog strikes again!" I cried. "This time it's a friendly Yorkshire terrier. It took a piece out a man's leg. Great news!"
"Great news?"
"I mean, of course it's sad for him, but great news for us. Look what else happened!"
The reports showed home video footage of a pink poodle, its mouth frothing with yellow foam. Its bloodshot eyes bulged like they would pop, and it clawed at the cage until its paws bled. The reporter edged closer until the dog pound worker raised his hand.
"Good morning, Phillip," the reporter said. "I am here with Bunny, the seemingly innocent poodle who turned on her owners late last night.
"Bunny's owners left her sleeping on the patio and went to bed. Once upstairs, the garden lights came on and they spotted an orange figure leaping into the bushes. Suspecting the local foxes, they came downstairs to check on Bunny.
"Bunny lay on the floor and began to froth at the mouth. She started to convulse and then lunged for the couple. The husband, Gregory Adams, smacked Bunny away and pulled his wife, Alicia, into the kitchen. They immediately called the dog pound, who will put down Bunny when she has been given a thorough check-up. They hope to identify Bunny's sudden illness."
"Do they have any idea what caused this attack?" Phillip asked from the newsroom.
"The Adams claim Bunny was, and I quote, 'a lovely dog with a big heart. We have raised her since she was a puppy. She will be sorely missed.' A source says the Adams recently lost their daughter in a car crash, but the couple refuse to comment on this."
"Any updates on the other dog attacks?"
"The internet is buzzing with tales of vicious dogs and cats across Britain. One particularly gruesome story says a woman's nose was bit off by her cat. None of these stories have been verified as of yet, but my sources say these incidents were reported by reliable parties."
"Turn it off," I ordered.
I reclined back and placed my feet on the desk. I pictured panic spreading across Britain as pet owners rushed their pets to the vet. Some fools would pay out thousands of pounds for treatment. The rest would be too poor and have no choice but to let their babies go. When we had them, the animals would be doomed.
"Are we really going to kill their pets?" Reed asked. "It seems a bit extreme."
"We must make room," I said. "Anything unnecessary must go."
"So all animals must die?"
"Don't be stupid!" I rolled my eyes and she quickly apologised. "Just useless animals. Anything we eat or wear can remain. Anything else must go. We don't have room for them anymore."
I felt freer knowing Britain, and soon Europe, was clearing itself of the clutter. Reed looked on as if I was crazy, but I didn't care. This was just the beginning.
If the animal cull worked, the human cull would too.
It started hundreds of years ago.
First, the world was there for the taking. We had so much land, and so much opportunity. There were jobs for all, food for all, shelter for all. The American Dream was everyone's. Just do your studies and take your skills into the real world. Not easy, but not as hard as it was today.
Now all the land was under ownership. The properties were either filled to the brim by poor beggars or sitting empty on the richest streets in the world. No one had anywhere to go. Jobs were the same. The wealthy saved the best jobs for the elite. The rest of them got the scraps. Soon there were no scraps. There was nothing left but a bare bone. Of course food went the same way. The developing world were forever on their knees begging and pleading and dying.
We tried charity. We tried communism. We tried everything but nothing was working. Resources were running low and the population was running high.
Someone had to go.
Culling people seems like a massive jump from killing animals. It is a huge leap, but all this requires is a seamless transition. The only way the public will allow such a thing is by distraction. It happens all the time, and it works like a charm.
Distraction used to be enough, but then the wide awake caught on. They realised the distraction was diverting attention away from something major. Everyone looked one way while chaos happened the other.
To fight this problem, we decided to combine distractions with sacrifices. When people get angry at one issue, throw a particular group under the bus. Those unlucky souls bear the brunt of that anger.
Let me demonstrate.
"Ivory, nice to see you."
I went to my desk and she sat opposite, crossing her legs before I caught a glimpse. I offered her a glass of water, but she shook her head and offered a stick of gum. I declined.
"Did you like it?" she asked. "They think it's another case of Foot and Mouth. All those pets going crazy like that."
"I particularly liked the fox episode. All those country pests spreading the disease overnight." I laughed hard. "Did you see the British farmer boycott? The fools blamed the farmers for driving the foxes into the city. The way they're acting, you'd think the bloody pets were their kids!"
"We'll calm relations soon..."
"Don't."
Ivory stopped chewing.
"Let things simmer," I said. "Let them hate each other a little longer..."
"What do you have planned?" She leaned in closer. "Go on. Tell me."
"No," I snapped. "This is between Cull and the Leaks."
"Fine, then!"
Ivory grabbed her handbag and stormed out.
I swivelled round to Reed and she scuttled over.
"Call Mister Leonardo McGregor," I said. "Tell him the Leaks have another job on their hands."
"Is this the second stage you were talking about?"
"Yes, the next step before Cull's biggest act begins." I poured the glass of water into the jug. "Reed, if you plan on leaving like the last one, do it now. Once the third stage begins, you cannot leave."
"...What do you mean?"
I stood up and stared down at her. She gulped and backed away slightly, her eyes falling to the floor.
"I am not threatening you," I said. "I'm just saying."
"I understand."
"You know those government conspiracies the loonies spread?"
She nodded.
"They're wrong....but they're so close it's sickening." I placed my hands on her shoulders and squeezed until she flinched. "Don't be a statistic. Don't be another corpse on the heap. Think long and hard before you come in to work next week."
Reed gave a sheepish smile and gently wriggled free from my grip. She took a pile of folders from my desk and excused herself. She hurried out the room, keeping her eyes to the floor.
"See you tomorrow," I said.
Reed mumbled a goodbye.
I am the brains behind the entire operation. Yes, that includes everything happening right now. The misery, the pain, the death. It's all my fault. Before you get angry...angrier, remember that I intend to finish what I have started. I will save us, if you let me.
Anyway, Cull is the centre of the operation. We brainstorm hundreds of ideas and choose the most and least controversial. The most controversial are the most effective, so they will happen. The least controversial is for the pussies.
Before we bring in the toughest changes, we throw in some minor ones. While the stupidest members of society argue over minor changes, we sneak in major ones. You would not believe how many laws have changed right under your nose. You might have heard about it, read about it, been told about it, but what did you do? Nothing! Good.
It's not that you're stupid. Of course not...You just had no idea what was happening until it was too late. Every government brings another change to crush you further, and soon you're overwhelmed by so much you have no idea where to start. Then you argue over which issue is major and which one is minor. More arguments mean more distraction time.
This is why I urge you not to kill me. More fighting makes them happier.
Don't let them win.
With an important job like this, there's no point in taking stupid risks. Focus on the usual suspects. In Cull, people have to keep quiet or our plans spread online in minutes. In Execution, they must be silent and invisible. They get in, execute, and get out. Sometimes even their fellow members have no idea they were involved. On the other hand, the Leaks must be visible, normal. They must blend in with the crowd. They are the people you see at the bus stop, and chat with before your next ride. They are the impatient few in the queue at the store, the nice ones who start a brief conversation. They are the new parents at school who know everyone, their children equally popular.
The Leaks have an important job to do. Some might say they're the most important chain in events. Cull could think of the most brilliant plan, and the Executioners could work their usual magic, but without a rock hard bridge between the two the public would fight back....Like you will now.
The Leaks have three stages: the problem, the majority's solution, and finally the minority's solution. I will demonstrate all three. Each stage usually lasts from one to three months.
I wasn't there when the Leaks began the second stage before the human cull. However, I heard enough to speculate on what happened.
Here is my version of events.
Leo McGregor slipped on the suit and snuck into the office at lunch time. He sat at a desk and typed away on the computer, his eyes skimming the crowded room. His mind marked the prime targets who would unknowingly aid the Leaks' cause.
The most powerful group: gossip lovers. By the water cooler were a group of women gossiping over a glossy magazine. They pointed at the celebrities strutting their stuff on the beach, a blonde, orange-coloured woman flashing a smile at the photographers. This was the perfect group to spread the word. A few words with them and the latest news would flood the entire office building within the hour.
The back-up plan? The quiet ones. They say little, but when they do it's worth waiting for. They say little in person but talk for England online. They browse many websites - forums and blogs - and find themselves in every conversation. With no inhibitions, they can speak their minds without fear of being judged. After a day spent bottling up their true thoughts and feelings, they can let loose online and with loved ones at home. Target them early so they have time to spread the news the only way they know how.
Leo hurried over to the gossipers before they returned to work. He filled a plastic cup with water and gulped it down, eyeing up the woman beside him. She tucked her reddish hair behind her ear and edged closer, her wide hip brushing against his.
"You new?" she asked, and licked her lips. "I can take care of you."
"I go by Leonardo, but gorgeous women like you can call me whatever you like."
The woman blushed and giggled, her friends rolling their eyes.
"My name is Samantha, but you can call me Sam." Sam pulled Leo away from the others before they could introduce themselves. "So, Leo, I haven't seen you around here. I'd remember someone so handsome."
Leo blew her a kiss, making Sam's face turn pink. She looked him up and down and then took out her mobile. She pressed a few buttons and thrust the phone into his hand.
"Your number," she said. "I want it."
Leo entered his number and took a picture. He saved the photo under his number and handed the phone back. He glanced over Sam's shoulder and saw her friends watching.
"Have you heard the latest?" he asked.
"Yeah, Sissy is dating Juno! Their reps denied it but, well, you know."
"No, not that." Leo led her away from the others, and glanced over his shoulder to make sure they were still watching. "Have you heard the latest real news?"
Sam shook her head.
"Well, I heard that...Never mind. It can't be true!"
"Let me be the judge of that!" Sam sat him down at her desk and edged closer on her seat. "Go on! Say it!"
"Don't tell anyone, but..."
Leo waited for the quietest worker to take his seat. The young man sat at the opposite desk and scrawled some notes on his notepad and then shuffled some papers. His eyes shifted upwards and met with Leo's before returning to his work.
"Don't say anything to anyone, all right?" Leo said quietly. "This is just between you and me."
Sam looked over at the quiet guy, who gave a nervous smile before looking away.
"What about him?" she said. "We'd better move."
"He won't say anything, right?" Leo offered his hand to the quiet guy. "I'm Leo."
"Hanh," was the mumbled reply.
"Come sit with us," Leo said.
Hanh hurried round the desk and Sam reluctantly made space for him on her seat.
"You ready?" Leo asked. "Remember, this is just between the three of us."
"Yes," Hanh said, his sweaty hands trembling with excitement.
"I won't tell a soul," Sam whispered, her fingers crossed behind her back. "I promise."
"My sister works at Cull. She's a consultant there, you know, the people who come up with the crappy ideas-"
"Like cutting the hospital budgets again," Hanh said.
"Exactly! Well, recently some new guy came up with the craptastic idea to...solve our overpopulation problem."
"There's space for everyone," Hanh whispered. "Not all foreigners are bad. My parents came over from China and did very well for themselves. No benefits, nothing!"
"See, but Cull doesn't get that." Leo shook his head. "Still, you can't deny that Britain is overcrowded."
"Too right!" Sam cried. "Why do you think I'm here? I didn't do years of project management training to end up back in admin. Those bloody foreigners took the jobs!"
Hanh rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. He looked over at his desk, so Leo shifted his seat closer to him. He placed his hand on Hanh's shoulder and gently pulled him closer.
"Hanh, don't get mad, all right? She's not racist!"
"I know, I know."
"You do get what she's saying, right? Your parents came over with nothing and made something. All that hard work and for what? Where is their business now? Why aren't you there instead of here?"
Hanh's shoulders drooped and he bit his lip. He shrugged and looked away.
"Because there isn't enough money to go around. The bankers keep the money for themselves and won't loan out anymore. How can you run a business without money?"
"They tried to save it," Hanh said. "We had to let it go or lose the house."
"If there were fewer people, the banks would have less money to pay out. Instead your parents had to compete with so many people for the same cash. Someone had to lose out."
Hanh and Sam nodded.
"Close the borders," Sam said. "I don't mind hard, skilled workers like Ham-"
"Hanh!" he grumbled.
"Yeah, whatever. I don't mind people like him, but everyone else should be restricted."
"The government tried that," Leo said. "Clearly it didn't work."
"So what does Cull have planned, then?" Hanh asked.
"Remember, you didn't hear this from me." The trio leaned in. "They want to discourage births."
Sam laughed while Hanh shook his head in disbelief.
"That's not so bad," Hanh said. "I can't imagine how they would do it..."
"It's Cull," Leo whispered, "what do you think?"
Sam stopped laughing.
"They had lots of ideas. It started years ago when they made childcare more expensive."
"Tell me about it!" Sam said. "My kids cost a thousand a month for that bloody nursery. Of course, it'd help if their so-called father helped out more..."
"How many kids do you have?" Hanh asked.
"Six."
"See," Leo said. "It didn't work. Cull had to go further...They had to go all the way!"
"It's bad, isn't it?" Hanh whispered.
"Oh, they'll just charge us more for childcare. They do it anyway!"
"Actually, they'll charge less," Leo said. He sat back and watched the smile creep across Sam's face. "That is, they'll tax less...for childless couples."
Sam cursed and Hanh chuckled.
"Singletons will get huge tax breaks! I heard the government will knock one per cent off their tax for every year they go childless. The infertile will make a killing!"
"Typical," Sam said, shaking her head. "That's not fair!"
She turned to Hanh, who was smiling broadly. He shrugged and said, "It sounds all right to me. Married couples get tax breaks, so why not us? I shouldn't get punished for not having a girl-"
Sam sniggered and Hanh blushed.
"There's more," Leo said. "To afford the tax breaks for the singletons and childless, they're charging others more....Much more."
"How much more per kid?"
"They'll bump up the price of IVF, reduce the money paid to fosterers and people who adopt. I heard IVF might cost at least twenty to thirty thousand per attempt."
"Sh-" Sam clamped her hands over her mouth. "Damn!"
"That's not fair on the poor," Hanh said. "Even with the health service, how can people who don't qualify afford that?"
"They can't. The point is to put them off. With foster payouts going down, they can't do that either. Any infertile, homosexual, etcetera people have to go without. They said it'll save millions spent on test tube babies and turkey basters."
Sam looked past Leo at the picture on her desk. She took the photograph and held it close to her chest, tears in her eyes.
"I can't imagine not having my boys. Everyone deserves the right to have kids. Everyone."
"Well, maybe it's for the best," Leo said. "With the school limits coming in, most won't get an education anyway."
"What?" Sam cried.
"Not only are they limiting the number of university places, they might-"
"Will," Sam snapped.
"They will limit college and school places too. They say smaller class sizes will make sure every student gets a fair chance, or some crap like that. Anyway, I hope your boys make it before the limit comes in or you might have to choose who gets educated and who doesn't."
"Over my dead body!" Sam slammed the picture down. "Who the hell does Cull think they are? Wasn't last month's bomb scare enough of warning? People are fed up, damn it! We won't stand for this!"
"I can understand restricting entry into Britain," Hanh said. "However, restricting the British population is one step too far. We have paid our taxes and deserve better treatment. Samantha is right. We won't take this lying down!"
Leo returned to his desk and typed gibberish into the computer document. Out the corner of his eye, he spotted Sam gathering her friends by the water cooler. Minutes later, their faces were pale and then turned red, their fists crushing the cups in their grasp. They dumped the cups in the bin and returned to their desks, stabbing the keyboards with their fingers.
Leo picked up the phone and dialled his superior.
"Hello?" I said.
"It's me, Leo. Stages one and two have commenced. Enjoy."
Leo McGregor snuck into the bustling hall and pushed his way to the front. Behind the podium was a black bearded man with cue cards. He placed the cards on the podium and tapped the microphone until he had everyone's attention.
"We're meeting today to discuss Cull's latest order," the man said. "They're trying to stop people from having kids or raising the one's we have. What are we gonna do about it?"
The hall buzzed with various suggestions, but everyone was drowned out by everyone. The speaker tapped the microphone so silence returned. He pointed at an old black woman at the back, so she shakily rose to her feet and someone held a microphone to her mouth.
"A petition," she said. "My grandson says we can start one on the internet for free. He drafted something with his friends, so we can go over it."
"Well done, Missus Greeves. Leave the document with me when we are finished...Any objections or other suggestions?"
Leo stood behind the others, quickly scanning the crowd. He spotted a chubby man tapping his foot, frowning in Missus Greeves' direction. Leo pushed his way over and stood behind the seated man.
"Not good enough, is it?" Leo whispered in his ear.
"Tell me about it!" The men introduced themselves and shook hands. "The old bat wants to sign a worthless piece of paper. The establishment doesn't listen to that crap!"
Jenkins dabbed his flushed face with a handkerchief until his skin's peach tone returned. After a deep breath, he apologised to Leo.
"We need to make a statement," Leo said. "A stupid petition is too easy to ignore!"
"Yeah, a statement." Jenkins shrugged. "But how?"
"I've never heard of any petition making the news..."
"Demonstrations do!"
Leo patted Jenkins on the back and they looked over at the speaker, who was flipping through his cue cards.
"I'll just tell everyone," Leo said, "even though it was your great idea."
"Now hold on a minute! It was my idea!"
Jenkins waved at the speaker and then stood up, nudging Leo out the way. Leo stepped into the background and looked over the crowd, his eyes stopping on a group of five teenage boys at the back. They pointed at Missus Greeves and sniggered. While Jenkins introduced himself, Leo made his way over to the boys.
"I say we hold a demonstration! We'll join forces with other boroughs and peacefully demonstrate in central London. If we bring London to its knees, the establishment will have no choice but to listen!"
"He's right," a young woman said. "Demonstrations always make the news!"
Others clapped and cheered as Jenkins bowed.
"It must remain peaceful," the speaker said. "Any trouble and we'll play right into the media's hands. Remember, they're not on our side."
People nodded in agreement, except one of the teenage boys who cursed. A woman turned back and whispered harsh words to him, so his friends laughed until the woman shot them a stern look.
"The sooner the better," Jenkins said. "They like to rush these laws! See how fast they cut the defence budget. No wonder our soldiers get bad treatment!"
The speaker took out a diary and scrolled down the first page. His finger stopped over something and he said, "How is next Saturday?"
"That's good for me," Jenkins said. "It'll give time for the police to get ready, and the media build up will be huge!"
"Good, then the date is set." The speaker waited for other suggestions, but no one else spoke up, so he declared the meeting over. "Spread the word across London, across Britain, across Europe. Cull won't get away with this one!"
The attendees filed out of the hall, leaving Leo alone with the teenagers. They wrestled each other to the floor and then stopped when they realised Leo was watching. One of them stood in front of Leo, his hands in his pockets. Leo looked down and saw the boy's hand clasping something solid, and smiled.
"You're tough, huh?" Leo laughed. "We'll see."
"What you talkin' about?"
"The peaceful demonstration. You're going, right?"
"Yeah, maybe. So what? Why do you care?"
"I can see it already. You and the others sitting around some tent, singing songs and holding hands. Typical hippies, or should I say, pussies."
The boy stepped closer to Leo, who laughed again.
"Calm down, man," Leo said. "Save your anger for next Saturday. You'll need it!"
"Why?"
"The police love young boys like you. You're an easy target! They always blame the youngsters at these demos. You go in there all peaceful and come out with battle scars. Mark my words, man. They'll get you, especially your black friend over there."
The black boy strode over and crossed his arms, looking Leo up and down.
"No one's getting me!"
"They will if you're not prepared." Leo looked over his shoulder and then led the boys back to their friends. "Let's kill two birds with one massive stone."
"Keep talking," the first boy said.
"We've got to protect ourselves from the police, yes? But we've also got to get our cause media attention. They don't like peaceful demonstrations. The press wants something a little more exciting..."
A woman was thrown to the ground and handcuffs were slapped onto her wrists. She kicked out and her foot knocked the policeman's helmet off. He cursed and backed away, slipping his helmet back on. Two other officers dragged the woman, kicking and swearing, into their police van and handcuffed her to the seat.
The officers rushed back outside and pulled out their batons. They knocked down a group of teenagers who were throwing molotovs at them, and then chased down a guy tossing firecrackers at store windows. At the end of the street, one of the officers tasered the man and stood over him as he contorted in agony, tears streaming down his cheeks. He fell still, breathing heavily, and then his eyes rolled to the back of his head.
There was a loud crash and glass rained down on the officers. They stormed into the shop and wrestled the looters grabbing electronics. The officers carted the rioters downstairs and held them until the sixth police van pulled up. The police men threw the rioters into the back of the van and handcuffed them together before they could escape.
A news reporter appeared on the street corner and waved over the camera crew panning over the peaceful demonstrators down the road. She ordered him to wipe out the footage and zoom in on the chaos ahead. The blonde tidied her hair and then counted down to one as the camera panned over the blown out store fronts and blood stained streets.
"Good evening, James. We are here in central London, which is the rioters' base of operations. This morning, the rioters began their march and met here in central London, where they chanted obscenities and threatening messages to the prime minister."
"What happened next, Lydia?" the newsreader asked.
"Complete and utter chaos. The rioters claim the police attacked first, but an eyewitness says otherwise. Understandably, the witness must protect her identity, but she agreed to risk her safety by speaking with us today." The reporter turned to someone off camera. "Madam, can you tell us exactly what you saw?"
"It happened so fast," Ivory said. "I was marching with a few others and then we got stampeded over when the rioters bumrushed the police van. I told them to stop, but they smashed the van windows and went wild."
"Were you injured?"
"Yeah, my arm got broken! The ambulance fixed me up, so thanks to them, and thanks to the police too! Without them, I can't imagine how bad this would be."
"Have you heard about the riots across Europe?"
"Yeah, I read about it online," Ivory said. "I've got friends in France and Belgium who almost got killed when the rioters went mad. I can't believe this happened in a civilised society! No wonder the government want to limit the numbers. If the world breeds mad men like this, I don't see how birth control is such a bad thing!"
"Speaking of the recent Cull rumours, what do you think of the suggested proposals? Do your fellow peaceful protestors have any alternatives to limiting child births?"
"I'm sure the prime minister will think of something," she said. "That's his job, not mine. The public has spoken and the government has heard. They probably won't backtrack, they never do, but they've got to do something! If not, this won't be the last riot...There will be more. Worldwide."
One rioter outran the police and dashed down an alley. He ducked behind a dustbin and watched the police officers run past. They stopped by the roadside and spotted a protestor smashing a bin into a store front. She gave them the middle finger, so they chased her down the street.
The rioter stepped out from behind the bin and reached inside. He took out a plastic bag containing a black tuxedo and a bunch of red roses, and changed from his dirty tracksuit bottoms. He dumped the tracksuit, trainers, and leftover flame throwers into the trash can and hurried out to the street.
The police aimed their pistols at him, so he raised his hands and dropped to his knees. They waved him across the street and ushered him into the police car nearby. He thanked them repeatedly as he fastened his seatbelt.
"You got a lucky escape back there?" the driver said. "You all right, mate?"
"Yes, officer." The man tidied his messy curls and then fastened his bowtie. "I did not plan on such an outing."
"Got stood up?"
"She called to inform me that she had been caught in heavy traffic. I told her to cancel our date so she could return home. It was for the best, you see."
"Of course! The traffic jam is backed up for miles!" The officer pulled away from the kerb and drove down the road. "I'll drop you off away from this crap."
"Actually, I would prefer that you escort me to my workplace. I have the keys to the office."
"You sure?" A troop of protestors raised their placards when they spotted the car, so the officer took a shortcut down a side road. "I'd get outta London if I were you."
"I will catch the next train when it is safe," the man said. "For now, I have some work to do. My project is behind as it is."
"I get it. My brother's the same. He never logs off!"
The man directed the driver deeper into London and they stopped close to King's Cross Station. The man slipped a twenty pound note into the officer's hand. The policeman grinned and shoved the money into his pocket.
"Take care," the officer said, and drove off.
The man crossed the street and entered the train station. He rode the elevator to the top floor and took a seat in a near empty cafe. The waitress appeared and handed him a sealed envelope.
"Some pretty mixed woman left this," the waitress said, steadying the tray on her hand. "She said you're dumped. Sorry, sir."
The man frowned and tore open the envelope as the waitress went to clear the other tables. He read the letter and then tore it apart. He stuffed the pieces into the bin and rushed downstairs to the street. There he waited on the corner, looking out for a pair of slender brown legs.
Someone tapped him on the shoulder, so he spun round. It was a biracial woman with waist-length curly hair. She pecked both his cheeks and then slipped her arms around him, pulling him closer. He forced a smile, struggling because she was squeezing so tight.
"What took you so long?" she asked through gritted teeth. "I've been waiting."
"Sorry, Miss King. I almost got arrested!"
"Mister Jackson, I am tired of your excuses." She grabbed his hand and they strolled down the street. "Do you understand what being an Executioner entails? Are you taking your job seriously?"
"Yes, Miss King. I just got caught up in the riot, that's all."
"Do not be late again, do I make myself clear?"
He nodded, so she kissed his lips, lingering long enough for his groin to tingle. He pulled away and reached into his pocket, where his wedding band was waiting. He slipped it onto his finger and she laughed.
"I heard about the rioters striking first," she said. "The shame! Didn't they realise what stirring the police would cause?"
Jackson smiled, the ring tightening around his finger.
"Well, until we meet again...Goodbye, Mister Jackson."
Ivory slipped her arms around his waist and pulled him closer. Her pert breasts rubbed his chest, making his groin ache again. When he pulled away slightly, she pulled him back. She lifted her head and rubbed her lips against his.
"Goodbye," she whispered, and strode away.
I snatched the remote control from Reed and turned up the volume. She apologised and scuttled into her office, closing the door very quietly. I reclined in my seat and turned on the vibrator, sighing happily as the chair massaged my middle-aged aches away.
On screen, the camera panned across the Thames to the Houses of Parliament on the riverside. It was a sunny day, but the hundreds of windows were dark with no signs of life. Slowly the shot moved to Big Ben and zoomed in on the large clock face showing 9am. Then it transitioned to Lydia, who was standing in the park across the street.
"Good morning to everyone at home," she said. "This morning, Prime Minister Richard Seldon will give a speech on Saturday's riots. He will address not only the rioters, but also Cull's latest report on cutting Europe's expenditure."
The news cut to three cameras inside parliament. One showed the opposition taking their seats to the right while the ruling party took their seats on the left. The second camera was fixed on the prime minister's seat at the front with a podium before it. The third camera was on the speaker's chair, which was higher up so he could oversee everyone.
The doors opened and the ministers hurried to their seats. Within ten minutes, the last ministers were seated on the packed rows of worn wooden chairs with the prime minister standing patiently by the podium, sheets of paper before him. He slicked down his wispy grey hair and smiled as the camera panned over the room. The men standing guard closed the heavy, black ironwood doors and turned to face the congregation.
The speaker started proceedings and then the prime minister rose to his feet. The ministers sitting opposite the ruling party jeered when the prime minister spoke, so the speaker demanded order until there was calm.
"Thank you, Mister Speaker. First of all, I would like to offer my condolences to every European who has lost their livelihood since Saturday's riot. I hope we can join forces to help them rebuild their businesses and reclaim their streets."
The ministers applauded and some shouted, "Yay! Yay!"
"Britain appointed me to this position, and I will do all I can to serve the British public." Opposing ministers laughed. "I will not let voters down!"
"You already have!" a woman cried, much to the amusement of the others. The prime minister sneered at her before looking down at his notes.
"During the election campaign, I vowed to listen to voters and always do my best for them. Last week, they spoke and, as promised, I listened. I heard their cries for equality. I heard their desperation. Despite the riots, I admire the unity of the European community."
The prime minister's party applauded while the others shouted their disagreement.
"However, I cannot give in to the demands of the violent minority. Britain, and Europe as a whole, is overpopulated. Due to popular demand, I passed last year's order to restrict entry to Britain to no more than fifty thousand skilled European foreigners per year. Still, the masses in Britain continue to flourish, crippling our free services.
"Cull advised me to start charging for those services! They told us to charge patients for the healthcare they receive for free. They told us to increase the cost of bus and train fares again. They told us to close down libraries, parks, community centres, and town halls. All this to save money!"
The opposing ministers leapt off their seats and barked at the prime minister, so the speaker stood up and threatened to remove anyone causing further disturbances. The ministers mumbled amongst themselves while the prime minister turned to the next sheet. He banged his fist on the podium and pointed straight at the camera.
"Cull, I will never turn on the public! I will never punish the British public for the previous administration's mistakes. I will never target families, homosexuals, the infertile, the poor, and, most importantly, the children."
There was riotous applause from most ministers, except for a few who sat shaking their heads. Even the speaker smiled, nodded his head in agreement until he spotted the camera on him.
"Unfortunately, Britain is overpopulated. Something must be done. Remember our party's motto: spread the pain, share the love. We must suffer and prosper together. If one falls, we must fall together. If one goes without, others must sacrifice.