This is really rough. It's just an idea. What you think, is it laughable or worth pursuing?
‘Humans are wriggly awkward things,’ said Maria flatly, her eyes neither caring nor not caring. She held a CPU by its edges that she had just removed from a faulty motherboard. Her face lacked the lines of experience. Emotion didn’t touch her in any way.
‘Did she just make a judgement,’ said Sally, eyes narrowing, then brightening.
‘I wouldn’t read too much into it,’ said David, ‘We’ve got a long way to go with this counter technology’.
Maria placed the CPU into an anti-static bag and folded the bag over to a precise line, neatly sealing it down.
‘That’s what Linda said today’, continued Maria, ‘I think she meant humans are like worms’.
‘You’re human too,’ said Sally gently.
‘Oh, yes. But I’m not a feeler.’ She looked up from the anti-static bag. ‘How do you experience an emotion? What’s it like?’
The question shocked Sally and David. Maria was one of the young born with no discernible emotion at all. She was born to an Impulsive father and a Depress mother.
Mother was bright. She arrived late to work this Monday as nearly every other for her twelve hour shift. The other women had left the changing room and were on the weapons assembly line. They each had already tightened tens of screws into place on the machinery or slotted metal components into their metal compartments or soldered the very same piece over and again, the same as the day before and the same as the day to come. It had been the spirit of the women, the laughter that helped mother through the days. Mother called out cheerfully, ‘Hey ladies’. Saturday last (Sunday being a rest apart from Government sanctioned church duties) one woman had replied to her greeting, a half-hearted sigh. The week before a handful of women had replied in this way. Today, nobody replied. All the women looked the same, lines of unresponsive bodies in sharp grey overalls, no accessory slipped through inspection. Mother’s heart turned over in her chest. She sensed shadows had filled the place, ominous shadows. Had the management come down heavy? What had she missed and when had she missed it? Sick time wasn’t allowed for and even if it were, there was little need, each worker was pumped with antidotes and antibodies for every new and every conceivable disease or virus. For those diseases that slipped through the scientists’ potions, there was death.
Mother came to father with her worries, her dark heart-stopping thoughts, ‘They are doing something to the women’.
‘Like what?’ scoffed father. He listened though. He always listened to mother.
There was little for them to eat, even less time for leisure. Talk, they had words and their dinners, mother in the assembly workers canteen and father in the sales department canteen of the same weapons plant.
She stopped coming to father with her worries about the others and noted her pregnancy to him with hardly a flutter, rather a descent into the semi-morbid. Father wondered why. However, father was becoming more and more preoccupied with the next adventure. Father was taking risks, father’s increased sales were rewarded, father fucked the wrong woman and got government sanctioned time in prison, father asked to go to the toilet, jumped through a glass window, handcuffs and all, landed roughly on his feet and ran.