Brave New World
Brave New Giver
~Introduction~
Jonas, our main character, has just escaped the “Community,” a place where everything is the same, with a one-year-old baby boy named Gabriel. In the Community, nothing has color, the landscape is flat, and there is no sun. People have no feeling or emotion. They have very strict guidelines about how the Community should be run and how you should participate in the Community. The only person who can see colors is the Receiver of Memory. Jonas was chosen to be the new Receiver of Memory. He begins to see color and feel real emotions. Then he and the previous Receiver devise a plan to expose the Community to the memories. Jonas must go away from the Community to Elsewhere. At the last minute he decides to take the baby Gabriel with him. He takes his bike and rides as far as he can. He rides for a long time and encounters no civilization. Just as he is about to drop from exhaustion, he spots a city in the distance. He draws the last drops of energy from his extremely taxed muscles and the faint memories of strength and courage he has left to make it to the city, losing consciousness right before he sees someone wandering towards him.
~Assimilation~
Day 1
Bright lights. Very bright lights. Wait, where am I? Where is Gabe? I wake up to a generic looking woman standing over me. I look around the room and see a few other hospital beds with white curtains around them. The floor is a bland stretch of white tiles from wall to wall. The walls are also white, so bland it makes me sleepy just looking at them. Everything else in the room is the exact same color of white. Finally, I look up at the lady standing over me. She has brown hair, brown eyes, and a very bland and plain face. It was as if she was cast from a mold. “Ah, good. You are awake. My name is Betty Rose,” she says, as she begins to take something out of her pocket. “Now it is time to take your soma.”
“Wait, where am I? Where is Gabe? And what is soma?” I say with confusion and worry.
“You are in the London City Hospital in the year 632 A.F. If this so called “Gabe” is the baby you arrived with, he has gone to the Central East Side Infant Hospital for treatment,” she explains. “As for your last question, soma is just a little something to make you feel better. You should need it after the state you showed up in. To imagine being that thin and still being able to walk.” Her voice trails off, as she seems to become lost in thought.
“What’s A.F.?” I ask in confusion, bringing her out of her reverie.
“It stands for After Ford, silly. Where are you from?”
“But what on Earth is a Ford?”
“Not what, who. And how do you not know who our dear Ford is? He is only the greatest man who ever walked the earth!” she says with a disgusted look on her face, as if she finds the thought of me not knowing who Ford is revolting. “He is our lord and savior! ‘Community, Identity, Stability’. That is our world motto. And he is the god of all those things.”
“Oh. Where are we again?”
“I told you, we are in the London City Hospital in London.”
“Then I must be Elsewhere! I did it! I escaped the Community!” I exclaim with incredulity. Then, through my excitement, I remember the journey. I remember the endless miles of biking with little Gabe in the child-seat, the intense hunger, and the horrible feeling of thinking that I might not be able to provide for Gabriel. Gabe! In my excitement I had forgotten all about him! Quickly, I ask the nurse if I can go see Gabe.
“Of course, honey. But first take your soma.” She holds out a bottle with strange little white pills in it. Reluctantly, I took one and swallowed it; I knew she would not let me go if I did not. Almost immediately I felt the effects. Everything seemed to put me in a good mood. It was as if everything wanted me to be happy. Briefly, I had a vague thought that something was very wrong with this extreme happiness, but I pushed it aside. How could anything so wonderful be bad?
As I was getting up, I couldn’t remember what I was getting up to do. Puzzled, I asked the nurse, “I forgot, what was I going to do?”
“You were going to go see the baby named Gabriel,” she says with a smile, as she walks out of the door.
“Gabriel! How could I have forgotten? I must go now!” As I stand up, I discover that I am wearing a gown-type thing. I should try to get my clothes back at some point, I think as I stride purposefully out the door, my gown billowing behind me.
Day 4
I am back on my father’s bicycle. It takes me a minute to realize I am dreaming. I am riding as fast and as hard as I can. Suddenly, I hear an airplane overhead. I quickly ride off the road into a ditch and quickly unbuckle Gabe from the bike seat, diving into the brush beside the road once he is unstrapped. I conjure up thoughts of winter and snow and ice and share them with Gabriel, so as to make us invisible to the heat-sensors on the planes flying overhead looking for us. We wait in fear as the rumbling from the plane gradually fades and is finally gone. Slowly, cautiously, we climb from the underbrush back to the road. I strap Gabriel back into the child-seat and get back on my bike to ride. Just as I start the first push down with my foot to get the bike moving, I wake up.
It takes me a minute to get my bearings and realize where I am. I look around and see über-white-and-boring walls, floor, and ceiling. I remember them from my first day here. I look over and in the bed next to me is a baby. He seems to be sound asleep. That’s right, I think, I convinced the nurses at the hospital yesterday to let Gabriel stay with me.
My dream troubles me. It is the latest in a series of flashbacks of my escape from the Community. First, it was my Ceremony of Twelve where I received my Assignment. I remember the anguish I felt when they skipped my number. And then, the announcement that I was to be the new Receiver of Memory came, and I walked up to the stage in a daze. The worst part was the feeling of loneliness I felt after the ceremony. I was still part of the Community, but at the same time, I was separate. I had been singled out, distinguished, made different, and I knew nothing was ever going to be the same again.
The next night, I had another dream. This one took place before I had been given my Assignment, Receiver of Memory. I was helping Fiona and Asher at the House of the Old. We were all helping the Old take baths. The lady I was bathing began telling me about a Release that had happened earlier that day. She said it was an especially beautiful Release. They told the life-story of the man (named Roberto) and then took him into a special room used only for Release. After you are released, you go to Elsewhere; at least that’s what we are told. Nobody knows where Elsewhere is, just that it is somewhere outside of the Community.
And then, last night, I had a dream about what drove me to leave the Community. I was sitting in the Giver’s (the previous Receiver) office, remembering that Father had done a release of a twin this morning. So I told the Giver about it.
“Would you like to watch it,” he asked.
“But it was this morning, and those ceremonies aren’t public,” I said.
“Remember, you are the new Receiver. All of the records and tapes are accessible to you. I think it is time you watched a release,” he said sadly.
He pulled up the release on the screen in his office and we watched. I watched as he weighed the two babies. I watched as he handed the heavier one to the nurse at the door and told her to take it to the Nursery. I watched as he turned back to the smaller baby. This is when he makes the baby all comfy to send him Elsewhere, I think to myself. Then, I watched as he inserted a syringe into the vein on top of the baby’s head. I watched as he slowly emptied the syringe. Then the baby started crying and jerking his arms and legs strangely. Then, he was still. My father put the baby into a container, closed the lid, and slid the tub down the disposal chute in the room. He killed it, I thought. He killed it!
“Is that how all releases are,” I ask tearfully.
“Unfortunately, yes,” the Giver says with a sigh.
I couldn’t bear to face my family again that night, so I stayed with the Giver. That is when we decided to expose the community to some of the memories.
We had everything was planned out perfectly. The Giver and I had made sure it was so. I would get all of the memories of courage and strength from the Giver for the next two weeks, until the next Ceremony of Twelve in December. Then the night before the Ceremony I would secretly leave my dwelling at midnight. I would go by the river with an extra set of clothes and leave my bicycle and my clothes by the river, so as to make them think I drowned in the river. Then I would walk back to the building where the Giver alone stayed and slept. The Giver would be waiting for me there with a car and a driver. I would get into the trunk while the Giver sent the driver on some errand. Then the driver would drive away without ever being the wiser about the stowaway he would be carrying. And I would be on my way to starting a new life Elsewhere.
But then, during our evening meal, Father told us that Gabriel was going to be released the next morning. I knew what I had to do. I took the scraps from our evening meal, my Fathers bicycle from the bike-port next to our house, and Gabriel. I looked back at the Community briefly as I pedaled over the bridge, across the river, and towards Elsewhere where I would start my new life.
I am pulled back to reality by the crying of a baby next to me. Turns out it is well past Gabe’s mealtime. I am feeling a little hungry too.
I walk to the door and poke my head out into the hall. I see the nurse who took care of me when I first woke up. “Excuse me, Ms. Rose?” I say to her.
“I’m not Ms. Rose, but I can go get her for you. Would you like me to?”
“Uh, yes please,” I say to Ms. Rose who is not Ms. Rose. She disappears down the corridor. The faint click, click, click of her shoes on the hard tile floor fades as she gets farther and farther away. Going back into the room, I check to see if Gabriel is okay. I don’t have to wait long before I hear the clicking of two pairs of shoes getting closer. Two pairs of shoes come to a halt in front of my door. Two pairs of completely identical eyes look at me from two completely identical faces.
“Are you two twins?” I ask.
“Yes, bokanovsky twins,” says the one on the left.
“You’re bonka-what’s?” I say in confusion.
“Bokanovsky twins. But we are not the only two from our batch, there are seventy-three total in this hospital,” says the one on the right.
“Oh. So you’re basically a whole bunch of identical twins,” I say.
“Yes. I’m not sure how the process works, but I hear it is very complicated. Only Alphas and Betas know how it works,” says the one on the right.
“We are only Deltas. We are not privy to that information, nor are we interested,” says the other one. “I am Betty Rose, by the way. What was it you wanted me for?”
“Oh yes. Gabriel and I wanted our morning meal,” I say, accompanied by the wail of Gabriel behind me, who is not thrilled about being kept waiting.
“I will get that to you shortly,” she says as she walks out of the room with her bokanovsky twin. I hear the click, click, click of their shoes receding and getting softer and softer as they walk down the hallway.
Day 6
Yesterday, they took Gabriel away to be “conditioned,” whatever that means. I only get to see him when he is taking his afternoon nap and when he is eating his lunch.
When I went to see him the first time I didn’t notice it, but today I can hear a very quiet voice issuing out from a little speaker in Gabriel’s bed. It was saying things like “whenever you are feeling down, take a soma so you won’t frown,” and, “a gramme is better than a damn.”
~Realization~
Day 7
I am still trying to understand this strange and foreign world. Everything seems to be backwards from the world I came from. People get around in flying cars instead of by bicycle. Instead of only having one spouse, they seem to not have spouses at all. They despise and look down on the mere mention of such an idea. People are not born; they are made in bottles (I went to see the Central London Hatchery and Conditioning Centre) and already have an assigned job before they are even opening their eyes. They don’t have fathers or mothers here, and babies are decanted instead of being born.
I have stopped taking soma, I feel like it is taking away from my ability to decide whether or not I am happy about something. I like to be in charge of my own feelings.
When the nurse tries to give it to me, I pretend to eat it, store it in my cheek and spit it out later. I think that if they notice, they will start putting it in my food and water. I tried to refuse it once and the nurse got very angry with me. “Take your soma or you won’t leave this room for a month!” Those weren’t her exact words, but you get the idea.
I am walking around today and notice something strange. Everybody seems to be stumbling around in a state of extreme elation. Today must be some sort of holiday, I think to myself as I watch one person after another stumble around me. Then I notice the extreme grins on their faces. It reminds me of the feelings I experienced when I first took soma. I remember that feeling of total happiness, like every passing moment is the happiest moment of your life; that must be what these people are feeling.
These people are all on soma, I think to myself, looking around at all the people stumbling and tripping over themselves and smiling and laughing.
I wonder what would happen if their soma was taken away. I smile at the thought of all the grown-ups running around shouting like madmen for their oh-so-precious soma.
The thought reminds me of a time when I was back in the community. I was a Three back then. It was snack-time and we all lined up like we had been taught. Then, suddenly, we didn’t have enough snacks for everybody. All of the children ran around screaming and crying like it was the end of the world. It took quite a while to calm everybody down again and get a snack the children who didn’t get one.
Yes, I think, that is probably what it would look like. The thought makes me chuckle a little to myself. Adults acting like children over some petty thing.
Day 10
I go to go see Gabriel during his midday meal. He is laughing and playing with the other children when I come in. He runs up to me and starts repeating “Ja! Ja! Ja!” as he points towards me.
“Is that your new name for me?” I say cheerfully as I ruffle his hair good-naturedly. “What did you do today? Did you have fun playing with the other children? I bet you did. Now come on, lets go get some lunch.”
The caretakers that work there put him in a high chair and give me his plate of food so that I can feed him. “You sure are quite the mess maker,” I playfully tease him. “How did you even get food in your armpit?” I laugh as he waves his spoon around in the air.
I wipe him down with a rag when he seems to be done. “Well I guess you’re all done so that means that I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow Gabriel!” I speak in the special voice my Father uses for babies. “Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say to the caretakers.
“See you tomorrow,” they say to me as I walk out the door.
I think I’ll explore a little more of this building, I think to myself. I turn left instead of right, and begin to walk in the opposite direction of which I normally leave from.
I walk down the hall trying to look like I am supposed to be there and I know what I am doing. I pass people in the hallway, and, though I was worried they will look at me and say that I am not supposed to be back here, nobody gave me a second glance.
In the distance I hear an alarm go off and somebody screaming. I rush to see if someone is hurt and needs help. The noise is so loud it seems to come from everywhere, making it very hard to find the source of the disturbance.
I turn right, then left, then left again, then continue straight, then turn right, then left, then yet another left, then straight, then straight again, then left, then one more straight and I find myself back where I started.
Okay, there has got to be a better way to go about this, I think to myself in desperation. I listen closer and notice it was coming loudest from the hallway to my right. Turns out I was on the right track on the first place but just turned too early. I should have gone straight when I made the first left turn.
I continue on by stopping at every intersection and listening for where the sound is loudest. Eventually I came to a glass walled room filled with whimpering babies, color books on the floor, and flowers in vases. Something about it caught my eye and I stayed to watch for a little bit.
I watched as one of the babies crawled over to one of the books and tentatively extended a small, pudgy hand towards the color book. Just as the tiny finger of the boy touched the page, a nurse in the corner flipped a switch and a screaming alarm and loud bells went off (I guess in my watching I had not heard the alarm I had heard in the first place stop). Immediately the boy took his hand away from the book and started wailing along with all the other babies in the room.
Then the nurse flipped another switch and the wailing of the babies changed. It changed from an uncertain wail of confusion and fear to a wail of pain and helplessness. Their bodies were jerking around at weird angles and I suddenly realized that the babies were getting electrocuted.
~Doing Something About It~
Day 11
I have decided that this world is just as bad, if not worse, than the poop I stepped in last summer barefoot (not really but you get the idea). That is why, after having seen what I saw yesterday, I have decided to take Gabriel out of “conditioning” and run away somewhere. I haven’t decided where exactly, but I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.
Before I received the memories, I thought that I lived in the perfect world. There was nothing I wanted that I couldn’t get. But then, I got the memories, and everything changed. I learned what true suffering was, along with true happiness. I felt pain, starvation, desperation, and sadness. I felt love, contentment, kindness, and community. I soon learned that what I thought was a perfect place was in fact a very shallow and simple world.
I recall the time where snacks ran out and all the children panicked. We were freaked out because something was happening that wasn’t part of the plan. It was something that wasn’t supposed to happen. Just like the adults I imagined running around when their soma was gone. What if that was to happen? Would it be possible?
After much thought and planning, I have decided to strike at them at where it will hurt most. I will strike at their “happiness in a pill.” I will take down the foundations of their society. I will destroy their soma.
I have a tour of the Soma Distribution Center tomorrow, which is perfect for my plan. I will go to the Distribution Center in the morning and take the tour. Sometime during the tour, I will pull the fire alarm, causing mad panic. During that panic, I will find a way to cut the main power to the plant, and then sneak out with everybody else who is trying to leave desperately. I will find my way back to the place where Gabriel is. During my visit with him, I will pull the fire alarm there and sneak out with him. I will get as far away as I can. Then Gabriel and I will have to learn to fend for ourselves.
Day 12
Everything is going according to plan. I go with my tour guide into the distribution center, say I have to go to the bathroom, sneak away, and pull the fire alarm. I have to force it a little to get it to work. It is obvious that it hasn’t been used in a very, very, long time.
The madness that ensues is tremendous. People are running everywhere, chairs are being knocked over, and equipment is being smashed; all in an attempt to be out the door first.
I take the axe hanging next to the fire alarm and tear a map of the facility off of the wall. I look around and get my bearings of where I am in relation to the map. I locate the control room and head towards it. I follow the map and it leads me straight to it. I go to work on all of the important-looking machines and computers with the axe. All the machines start smoking and sparking; I will have to leave soon. I look over on the wall and noticed an on-off switch. I flip it and then hack off the handle so nobody can switch it back.
I decide that I is time to head back to my tour guide; they are probably looking for me by now, plus the machine-smoke is getting bad. I lodge the axe into one of the computers and leave it there, following my map back to the place I started. From there I find my way back out of the plant.
I load onto the emergency bus that is taking people back to the city (the plant is out into the country) and find my tour guide.
“Where did you go?” she asks.
“I got lost on my way out,” I lie easily. I review the rest of my plan over and over again in my head on the way back into town. It feels a lot longer going back into town than going out to the plant. Finally, we get into town.
I hop off the bus as fast as I can and race away in the direction of the Nursery. As soon as I get there I run to the room where Gabriel usually is. As I get there, I look in the door. Nobody is there.
Where could they be? I ask myself. Then I remember the babies in the room with the books and the flowers. They looked about Gabriel’s age. With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I realize that it must be his group’s turn to be “conditioned,” as they call it.
I race to where I remember the room being. When I get there, I see Gabriel just about to reach for one of the books on the floor, and the nurse in the background getting ready to pull the lever. I know what is coming, and somehow I have to stop it. I try the door to the room and find that it is locked. Then I see the fire alarm next to the door and I know what I have to do.
I pull the lever, and all of a sudden bells, sirens, and lights went off all at once. It’s mayhem. The children all start screaming, the nurse attending the children tries to get them under control. I hear a faint click from the door and turn the handle to find it is open. I guess it must be a safety feature for all the doors to unlock when the fire alarm is pulled. Anyway, I go inside, grab Gabe, and run out.
I run out of the building and onto the street, where people gawk at me running with a baby in my arms. I can see helicopters with police written on the side hovering above the streets looking for me. I run out into the street and cars have to swerve to avoid me. I keep running. I am not aware of where I am going, just the blur of streets and people as I run past. Left, right, right, left, straight, left. I get lost in the maze of streets as I try to evade the helicopters. I see a dark alley off to the side and duck into it. I grin to myself as I see a helicopter fly overhead, oblivious to the fact I am sitting right underneath it.
Thinking I am safe, I slowly creep out from my hiding place. Looking around I don’t see any helicopters, so I think I have lost them. Then, just as I am strolling down the street feeling rather proud of myself, I feel a sharp pain in my shoulder. I have the dim realization that I have just been shot with a tranquilizer dart right before I lose consciousness.
I wake up in an office of some sort, at least that’s what it looks like. I try to sit up and discover I am tied down to the bed I am laying on. I look around to see the face of who my captor is and see an official-looking man standing over me.
“I am sorry to have to tie you up like this, but I think it is in the best interest of both of us. I am Mustapha Mond, one of the world controllers. You have caused me quite a deal of trouble, my young lad,” says the man before me.
“I think you are a monster for creating a world like this one. Those are not people out there; they are puppets that you do with what you please!” I spit the words at him, suddenly angered by this man I have hardly met. “I hope you die a very long and painful death.”
“My, my! You have a lot of spirit my boy. I think you will fit in well on the island I am sending you to. I just sent some people there recently actually. Almost the same crime committed,” he says with a reflective look on his face. “Anyway, I thought it would be good to talk to you before I sent you to this island. Everything will be provided for you there. Food, water, clothing, soma (if you want it). Now, do you have any questions for me before you go?”
Suddenly I am fearful. “Will Gabriel be going with me?” I ask hopefully.
“I thought you might ask that. Yes, he is going with you. I thought you might cause an uproar if he wasn’t.” he says with a chuckle. “Anything else?”
“No, that’s it,” I say. “As long as Gabriel is there I will be happy.”
“It is quite amazing how attached to that little boy you are. I wish I could feel love as strong as that. But alas, I live in this world where true feeling does not exist. Oh well. I do envy you, Jonas,” he says as walks out the door, pauses briefly, and adds, “Your plane leaves tomorrow morning,” and walks away, leaving me wondering how he knew my name and what my life will be like on this island.
THE END
Jonas, our main character, has just escaped the “Community,” a place where everything is the same, with a one-year-old baby boy named Gabriel. In the Community, nothing has color, the landscape is flat, and there is no sun. People have no feeling or emotion. They have very strict guidelines about how the Community should be run and how you should participate in the Community. The only person who can see colors is the Receiver of Memory. Jonas was chosen to be the new Receiver of Memory. He begins to see color and feel real emotions. Then he and the previous Receiver devise a plan to expose the Community to the memories. Jonas must go away from the Community to Elsewhere. At the last minute he decides to take the baby Gabriel with him. He takes his bike and rides as far as he can. He rides for a long time and encounters no civilization. Just as he is about to drop from exhaustion, he spots a city in the distance. He draws the last drops of energy from his extremely taxed muscles and the faint memories of strength and courage he has left to make it to the city, losing consciousness right before he sees someone wandering towards him.
~Assimilation~
Day 1
Bright lights. Very bright lights. Wait, where am I? Where is Gabe? I wake up to a generic looking woman standing over me. I look around the room and see a few other hospital beds with white curtains around them. The floor is a bland stretch of white tiles from wall to wall. The walls are also white, so bland it makes me sleepy just looking at them. Everything else in the room is the exact same color of white. Finally, I look up at the lady standing over me. She has brown hair, brown eyes, and a very bland and plain face. It was as if she was cast from a mold. “Ah, good. You are awake. My name is Betty Rose,” she says, as she begins to take something out of her pocket. “Now it is time to take your soma.”
“Wait, where am I? Where is Gabe? And what is soma?” I say with confusion and worry.
“You are in the London City Hospital in the year 632 A.F. If this so called “Gabe” is the baby you arrived with, he has gone to the Central East Side Infant Hospital for treatment,” she explains. “As for your last question, soma is just a little something to make you feel better. You should need it after the state you showed up in. To imagine being that thin and still being able to walk.” Her voice trails off, as she seems to become lost in thought.
“What’s A.F.?” I ask in confusion, bringing her out of her reverie.
“It stands for After Ford, silly. Where are you from?”
“But what on Earth is a Ford?”
“Not what, who. And how do you not know who our dear Ford is? He is only the greatest man who ever walked the earth!” she says with a disgusted look on her face, as if she finds the thought of me not knowing who Ford is revolting. “He is our lord and savior! ‘Community, Identity, Stability’. That is our world motto. And he is the god of all those things.”
“Oh. Where are we again?”
“I told you, we are in the London City Hospital in London.”
“Then I must be Elsewhere! I did it! I escaped the Community!” I exclaim with incredulity. Then, through my excitement, I remember the journey. I remember the endless miles of biking with little Gabe in the child-seat, the intense hunger, and the horrible feeling of thinking that I might not be able to provide for Gabriel. Gabe! In my excitement I had forgotten all about him! Quickly, I ask the nurse if I can go see Gabe.
“Of course, honey. But first take your soma.” She holds out a bottle with strange little white pills in it. Reluctantly, I took one and swallowed it; I knew she would not let me go if I did not. Almost immediately I felt the effects. Everything seemed to put me in a good mood. It was as if everything wanted me to be happy. Briefly, I had a vague thought that something was very wrong with this extreme happiness, but I pushed it aside. How could anything so wonderful be bad?
As I was getting up, I couldn’t remember what I was getting up to do. Puzzled, I asked the nurse, “I forgot, what was I going to do?”
“You were going to go see the baby named Gabriel,” she says with a smile, as she walks out of the door.
“Gabriel! How could I have forgotten? I must go now!” As I stand up, I discover that I am wearing a gown-type thing. I should try to get my clothes back at some point, I think as I stride purposefully out the door, my gown billowing behind me.
Day 4
I am back on my father’s bicycle. It takes me a minute to realize I am dreaming. I am riding as fast and as hard as I can. Suddenly, I hear an airplane overhead. I quickly ride off the road into a ditch and quickly unbuckle Gabe from the bike seat, diving into the brush beside the road once he is unstrapped. I conjure up thoughts of winter and snow and ice and share them with Gabriel, so as to make us invisible to the heat-sensors on the planes flying overhead looking for us. We wait in fear as the rumbling from the plane gradually fades and is finally gone. Slowly, cautiously, we climb from the underbrush back to the road. I strap Gabriel back into the child-seat and get back on my bike to ride. Just as I start the first push down with my foot to get the bike moving, I wake up.
It takes me a minute to get my bearings and realize where I am. I look around and see über-white-and-boring walls, floor, and ceiling. I remember them from my first day here. I look over and in the bed next to me is a baby. He seems to be sound asleep. That’s right, I think, I convinced the nurses at the hospital yesterday to let Gabriel stay with me.
My dream troubles me. It is the latest in a series of flashbacks of my escape from the Community. First, it was my Ceremony of Twelve where I received my Assignment. I remember the anguish I felt when they skipped my number. And then, the announcement that I was to be the new Receiver of Memory came, and I walked up to the stage in a daze. The worst part was the feeling of loneliness I felt after the ceremony. I was still part of the Community, but at the same time, I was separate. I had been singled out, distinguished, made different, and I knew nothing was ever going to be the same again.
The next night, I had another dream. This one took place before I had been given my Assignment, Receiver of Memory. I was helping Fiona and Asher at the House of the Old. We were all helping the Old take baths. The lady I was bathing began telling me about a Release that had happened earlier that day. She said it was an especially beautiful Release. They told the life-story of the man (named Roberto) and then took him into a special room used only for Release. After you are released, you go to Elsewhere; at least that’s what we are told. Nobody knows where Elsewhere is, just that it is somewhere outside of the Community.
And then, last night, I had a dream about what drove me to leave the Community. I was sitting in the Giver’s (the previous Receiver) office, remembering that Father had done a release of a twin this morning. So I told the Giver about it.
“Would you like to watch it,” he asked.
“But it was this morning, and those ceremonies aren’t public,” I said.
“Remember, you are the new Receiver. All of the records and tapes are accessible to you. I think it is time you watched a release,” he said sadly.
He pulled up the release on the screen in his office and we watched. I watched as he weighed the two babies. I watched as he handed the heavier one to the nurse at the door and told her to take it to the Nursery. I watched as he turned back to the smaller baby. This is when he makes the baby all comfy to send him Elsewhere, I think to myself. Then, I watched as he inserted a syringe into the vein on top of the baby’s head. I watched as he slowly emptied the syringe. Then the baby started crying and jerking his arms and legs strangely. Then, he was still. My father put the baby into a container, closed the lid, and slid the tub down the disposal chute in the room. He killed it, I thought. He killed it!
“Is that how all releases are,” I ask tearfully.
“Unfortunately, yes,” the Giver says with a sigh.
I couldn’t bear to face my family again that night, so I stayed with the Giver. That is when we decided to expose the community to some of the memories.
We had everything was planned out perfectly. The Giver and I had made sure it was so. I would get all of the memories of courage and strength from the Giver for the next two weeks, until the next Ceremony of Twelve in December. Then the night before the Ceremony I would secretly leave my dwelling at midnight. I would go by the river with an extra set of clothes and leave my bicycle and my clothes by the river, so as to make them think I drowned in the river. Then I would walk back to the building where the Giver alone stayed and slept. The Giver would be waiting for me there with a car and a driver. I would get into the trunk while the Giver sent the driver on some errand. Then the driver would drive away without ever being the wiser about the stowaway he would be carrying. And I would be on my way to starting a new life Elsewhere.
But then, during our evening meal, Father told us that Gabriel was going to be released the next morning. I knew what I had to do. I took the scraps from our evening meal, my Fathers bicycle from the bike-port next to our house, and Gabriel. I looked back at the Community briefly as I pedaled over the bridge, across the river, and towards Elsewhere where I would start my new life.
I am pulled back to reality by the crying of a baby next to me. Turns out it is well past Gabe’s mealtime. I am feeling a little hungry too.
I walk to the door and poke my head out into the hall. I see the nurse who took care of me when I first woke up. “Excuse me, Ms. Rose?” I say to her.
“I’m not Ms. Rose, but I can go get her for you. Would you like me to?”
“Uh, yes please,” I say to Ms. Rose who is not Ms. Rose. She disappears down the corridor. The faint click, click, click of her shoes on the hard tile floor fades as she gets farther and farther away. Going back into the room, I check to see if Gabriel is okay. I don’t have to wait long before I hear the clicking of two pairs of shoes getting closer. Two pairs of shoes come to a halt in front of my door. Two pairs of completely identical eyes look at me from two completely identical faces.
“Are you two twins?” I ask.
“Yes, bokanovsky twins,” says the one on the left.
“You’re bonka-what’s?” I say in confusion.
“Bokanovsky twins. But we are not the only two from our batch, there are seventy-three total in this hospital,” says the one on the right.
“Oh. So you’re basically a whole bunch of identical twins,” I say.
“Yes. I’m not sure how the process works, but I hear it is very complicated. Only Alphas and Betas know how it works,” says the one on the right.
“We are only Deltas. We are not privy to that information, nor are we interested,” says the other one. “I am Betty Rose, by the way. What was it you wanted me for?”
“Oh yes. Gabriel and I wanted our morning meal,” I say, accompanied by the wail of Gabriel behind me, who is not thrilled about being kept waiting.
“I will get that to you shortly,” she says as she walks out of the room with her bokanovsky twin. I hear the click, click, click of their shoes receding and getting softer and softer as they walk down the hallway.
Day 6
Yesterday, they took Gabriel away to be “conditioned,” whatever that means. I only get to see him when he is taking his afternoon nap and when he is eating his lunch.
When I went to see him the first time I didn’t notice it, but today I can hear a very quiet voice issuing out from a little speaker in Gabriel’s bed. It was saying things like “whenever you are feeling down, take a soma so you won’t frown,” and, “a gramme is better than a damn.”
~Realization~
Day 7
I am still trying to understand this strange and foreign world. Everything seems to be backwards from the world I came from. People get around in flying cars instead of by bicycle. Instead of only having one spouse, they seem to not have spouses at all. They despise and look down on the mere mention of such an idea. People are not born; they are made in bottles (I went to see the Central London Hatchery and Conditioning Centre) and already have an assigned job before they are even opening their eyes. They don’t have fathers or mothers here, and babies are decanted instead of being born.
I have stopped taking soma, I feel like it is taking away from my ability to decide whether or not I am happy about something. I like to be in charge of my own feelings.
When the nurse tries to give it to me, I pretend to eat it, store it in my cheek and spit it out later. I think that if they notice, they will start putting it in my food and water. I tried to refuse it once and the nurse got very angry with me. “Take your soma or you won’t leave this room for a month!” Those weren’t her exact words, but you get the idea.
I am walking around today and notice something strange. Everybody seems to be stumbling around in a state of extreme elation. Today must be some sort of holiday, I think to myself as I watch one person after another stumble around me. Then I notice the extreme grins on their faces. It reminds me of the feelings I experienced when I first took soma. I remember that feeling of total happiness, like every passing moment is the happiest moment of your life; that must be what these people are feeling.
These people are all on soma, I think to myself, looking around at all the people stumbling and tripping over themselves and smiling and laughing.
I wonder what would happen if their soma was taken away. I smile at the thought of all the grown-ups running around shouting like madmen for their oh-so-precious soma.
The thought reminds me of a time when I was back in the community. I was a Three back then. It was snack-time and we all lined up like we had been taught. Then, suddenly, we didn’t have enough snacks for everybody. All of the children ran around screaming and crying like it was the end of the world. It took quite a while to calm everybody down again and get a snack the children who didn’t get one.
Yes, I think, that is probably what it would look like. The thought makes me chuckle a little to myself. Adults acting like children over some petty thing.
Day 10
I go to go see Gabriel during his midday meal. He is laughing and playing with the other children when I come in. He runs up to me and starts repeating “Ja! Ja! Ja!” as he points towards me.
“Is that your new name for me?” I say cheerfully as I ruffle his hair good-naturedly. “What did you do today? Did you have fun playing with the other children? I bet you did. Now come on, lets go get some lunch.”
The caretakers that work there put him in a high chair and give me his plate of food so that I can feed him. “You sure are quite the mess maker,” I playfully tease him. “How did you even get food in your armpit?” I laugh as he waves his spoon around in the air.
I wipe him down with a rag when he seems to be done. “Well I guess you’re all done so that means that I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow Gabriel!” I speak in the special voice my Father uses for babies. “Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say to the caretakers.
“See you tomorrow,” they say to me as I walk out the door.
I think I’ll explore a little more of this building, I think to myself. I turn left instead of right, and begin to walk in the opposite direction of which I normally leave from.
I walk down the hall trying to look like I am supposed to be there and I know what I am doing. I pass people in the hallway, and, though I was worried they will look at me and say that I am not supposed to be back here, nobody gave me a second glance.
In the distance I hear an alarm go off and somebody screaming. I rush to see if someone is hurt and needs help. The noise is so loud it seems to come from everywhere, making it very hard to find the source of the disturbance.
I turn right, then left, then left again, then continue straight, then turn right, then left, then yet another left, then straight, then straight again, then left, then one more straight and I find myself back where I started.
Okay, there has got to be a better way to go about this, I think to myself in desperation. I listen closer and notice it was coming loudest from the hallway to my right. Turns out I was on the right track on the first place but just turned too early. I should have gone straight when I made the first left turn.
I continue on by stopping at every intersection and listening for where the sound is loudest. Eventually I came to a glass walled room filled with whimpering babies, color books on the floor, and flowers in vases. Something about it caught my eye and I stayed to watch for a little bit.
I watched as one of the babies crawled over to one of the books and tentatively extended a small, pudgy hand towards the color book. Just as the tiny finger of the boy touched the page, a nurse in the corner flipped a switch and a screaming alarm and loud bells went off (I guess in my watching I had not heard the alarm I had heard in the first place stop). Immediately the boy took his hand away from the book and started wailing along with all the other babies in the room.
Then the nurse flipped another switch and the wailing of the babies changed. It changed from an uncertain wail of confusion and fear to a wail of pain and helplessness. Their bodies were jerking around at weird angles and I suddenly realized that the babies were getting electrocuted.
~Doing Something About It~
Day 11
I have decided that this world is just as bad, if not worse, than the poop I stepped in last summer barefoot (not really but you get the idea). That is why, after having seen what I saw yesterday, I have decided to take Gabriel out of “conditioning” and run away somewhere. I haven’t decided where exactly, but I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.
Before I received the memories, I thought that I lived in the perfect world. There was nothing I wanted that I couldn’t get. But then, I got the memories, and everything changed. I learned what true suffering was, along with true happiness. I felt pain, starvation, desperation, and sadness. I felt love, contentment, kindness, and community. I soon learned that what I thought was a perfect place was in fact a very shallow and simple world.
I recall the time where snacks ran out and all the children panicked. We were freaked out because something was happening that wasn’t part of the plan. It was something that wasn’t supposed to happen. Just like the adults I imagined running around when their soma was gone. What if that was to happen? Would it be possible?
After much thought and planning, I have decided to strike at them at where it will hurt most. I will strike at their “happiness in a pill.” I will take down the foundations of their society. I will destroy their soma.
I have a tour of the Soma Distribution Center tomorrow, which is perfect for my plan. I will go to the Distribution Center in the morning and take the tour. Sometime during the tour, I will pull the fire alarm, causing mad panic. During that panic, I will find a way to cut the main power to the plant, and then sneak out with everybody else who is trying to leave desperately. I will find my way back to the place where Gabriel is. During my visit with him, I will pull the fire alarm there and sneak out with him. I will get as far away as I can. Then Gabriel and I will have to learn to fend for ourselves.
Day 12
Everything is going according to plan. I go with my tour guide into the distribution center, say I have to go to the bathroom, sneak away, and pull the fire alarm. I have to force it a little to get it to work. It is obvious that it hasn’t been used in a very, very, long time.
The madness that ensues is tremendous. People are running everywhere, chairs are being knocked over, and equipment is being smashed; all in an attempt to be out the door first.
I take the axe hanging next to the fire alarm and tear a map of the facility off of the wall. I look around and get my bearings of where I am in relation to the map. I locate the control room and head towards it. I follow the map and it leads me straight to it. I go to work on all of the important-looking machines and computers with the axe. All the machines start smoking and sparking; I will have to leave soon. I look over on the wall and noticed an on-off switch. I flip it and then hack off the handle so nobody can switch it back.
I decide that I is time to head back to my tour guide; they are probably looking for me by now, plus the machine-smoke is getting bad. I lodge the axe into one of the computers and leave it there, following my map back to the place I started. From there I find my way back out of the plant.
I load onto the emergency bus that is taking people back to the city (the plant is out into the country) and find my tour guide.
“Where did you go?” she asks.
“I got lost on my way out,” I lie easily. I review the rest of my plan over and over again in my head on the way back into town. It feels a lot longer going back into town than going out to the plant. Finally, we get into town.
I hop off the bus as fast as I can and race away in the direction of the Nursery. As soon as I get there I run to the room where Gabriel usually is. As I get there, I look in the door. Nobody is there.
Where could they be? I ask myself. Then I remember the babies in the room with the books and the flowers. They looked about Gabriel’s age. With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I realize that it must be his group’s turn to be “conditioned,” as they call it.
I race to where I remember the room being. When I get there, I see Gabriel just about to reach for one of the books on the floor, and the nurse in the background getting ready to pull the lever. I know what is coming, and somehow I have to stop it. I try the door to the room and find that it is locked. Then I see the fire alarm next to the door and I know what I have to do.
I pull the lever, and all of a sudden bells, sirens, and lights went off all at once. It’s mayhem. The children all start screaming, the nurse attending the children tries to get them under control. I hear a faint click from the door and turn the handle to find it is open. I guess it must be a safety feature for all the doors to unlock when the fire alarm is pulled. Anyway, I go inside, grab Gabe, and run out.
I run out of the building and onto the street, where people gawk at me running with a baby in my arms. I can see helicopters with police written on the side hovering above the streets looking for me. I run out into the street and cars have to swerve to avoid me. I keep running. I am not aware of where I am going, just the blur of streets and people as I run past. Left, right, right, left, straight, left. I get lost in the maze of streets as I try to evade the helicopters. I see a dark alley off to the side and duck into it. I grin to myself as I see a helicopter fly overhead, oblivious to the fact I am sitting right underneath it.
Thinking I am safe, I slowly creep out from my hiding place. Looking around I don’t see any helicopters, so I think I have lost them. Then, just as I am strolling down the street feeling rather proud of myself, I feel a sharp pain in my shoulder. I have the dim realization that I have just been shot with a tranquilizer dart right before I lose consciousness.
I wake up in an office of some sort, at least that’s what it looks like. I try to sit up and discover I am tied down to the bed I am laying on. I look around to see the face of who my captor is and see an official-looking man standing over me.
“I am sorry to have to tie you up like this, but I think it is in the best interest of both of us. I am Mustapha Mond, one of the world controllers. You have caused me quite a deal of trouble, my young lad,” says the man before me.
“I think you are a monster for creating a world like this one. Those are not people out there; they are puppets that you do with what you please!” I spit the words at him, suddenly angered by this man I have hardly met. “I hope you die a very long and painful death.”
“My, my! You have a lot of spirit my boy. I think you will fit in well on the island I am sending you to. I just sent some people there recently actually. Almost the same crime committed,” he says with a reflective look on his face. “Anyway, I thought it would be good to talk to you before I sent you to this island. Everything will be provided for you there. Food, water, clothing, soma (if you want it). Now, do you have any questions for me before you go?”
Suddenly I am fearful. “Will Gabriel be going with me?” I ask hopefully.
“I thought you might ask that. Yes, he is going with you. I thought you might cause an uproar if he wasn’t.” he says with a chuckle. “Anything else?”
“No, that’s it,” I say. “As long as Gabriel is there I will be happy.”
“It is quite amazing how attached to that little boy you are. I wish I could feel love as strong as that. But alas, I live in this world where true feeling does not exist. Oh well. I do envy you, Jonas,” he says as walks out the door, pauses briefly, and adds, “Your plane leaves tomorrow morning,” and walks away, leaving me wondering how he knew my name and what my life will be like on this island.
THE END
Seminar Reflection
1. What was the most interesting idea discussed in your seminar yesterday? Explain it and develop in detail.
a. I think that the most interesting idea discussed in seminar yesterday was when we were talking about happiness and suffering and how they were connected. We thought that you had to have suffering in order to have happiness because suffering gives context to happiness. Without suffering, happiness would just be neutral and then wouldn’t be happiness at all.
2. Quote one quotation from the novel you wished you had included in the discussion, and explain why you wish you could have included it.
a. “Actual happiness always looks pretty squalid in comparison with the overcompensations for misery. And, of course, stability isn’t nearly so spectacular as instability. And being contented has none of the glamour of a good fight against misfortune, none of the picturesqueness of a struggle with temptation, or a fatal overthrow by passion of doubt. Happiness is never grand.” I wish I could have included this quote when we were talking about what happiness was. I think that it gives a good perspective on what happiness is. It is basically saying that happiness looks rather boring in comparison with suffering and misfortune.
3. What were you most proud of about your seminar performance yesterday?
a. The thing that I was most proud of in my seminar performance was my comparing happiness to a concessive. I said that, like a concessive, you have to have sadness to emphasize happiness. This is like a concessive because you have to admit a counter-argument to emphasize your point.
a. I think that the most interesting idea discussed in seminar yesterday was when we were talking about happiness and suffering and how they were connected. We thought that you had to have suffering in order to have happiness because suffering gives context to happiness. Without suffering, happiness would just be neutral and then wouldn’t be happiness at all.
2. Quote one quotation from the novel you wished you had included in the discussion, and explain why you wish you could have included it.
a. “Actual happiness always looks pretty squalid in comparison with the overcompensations for misery. And, of course, stability isn’t nearly so spectacular as instability. And being contented has none of the glamour of a good fight against misfortune, none of the picturesqueness of a struggle with temptation, or a fatal overthrow by passion of doubt. Happiness is never grand.” I wish I could have included this quote when we were talking about what happiness was. I think that it gives a good perspective on what happiness is. It is basically saying that happiness looks rather boring in comparison with suffering and misfortune.
3. What were you most proud of about your seminar performance yesterday?
a. The thing that I was most proud of in my seminar performance was my comparing happiness to a concessive. I said that, like a concessive, you have to have sadness to emphasize happiness. This is like a concessive because you have to admit a counter-argument to emphasize your point.