Page 1 of Savage Daddies
Chapter One
The wildlands stretchto the mountains and beyond. I can scarcely contain my excitement at being outside the city for the first time in my twenty years. I breathe in the fresh but strange-smelling air, air that’s colder than I’m used to in the climate-controlled techno-city of Emerald. My nose tingles and goosebumps rise all over my body. A sense of freedom unlike anything I’ve ever known sweeps through me.
I stand quietly with the tour group while our guide, a tall middle-aged man who introduces himself as Ranger Warren, gives us a detailed rundown of the rules.Don’t sprint ahead. Don’t lag behind. Stay together. Don’t touch any plants or animals. Report any injuries at once. Do not, under any circumstances, leave the well-marked hiking trail.
“Oh, my dear Joselyn, this is just marvelous,” Sheena, my roommate, whispers into my ear. “I can’t thank you enough for bringing me along as your plus one. Hey, do you think we’ll see any savages?”
I repress a chuckle. “You’re very welcome, and no, I don’t think we’ll see any savages today. No one lives out here. It’s too wild. The stories about savages are just that—stories.”
“One of the ladies who works in the lab with me knows a man who knows a woman whose roommate saw several fierce-looking savage men during a hike on this very trail,” Sheena says in a breathless rush.
For a reason I can’t explain, a heated flush surges through me when she saysfierce-looking savage men. I swallow hard and put my odd reaction down to nerves. But in the back of my mind, I picture a dozen shirtless savages walking through the hills, their muscles gleaming in the sun.
Clearly, I have been reading too many old books. I put the imagery down to a photo of a lumberjack I recently saw in a history book that was written hundreds of years ago. The man in the photo had looked unlike the men who inhabit the techno-cities, with rugged features, tanned skin, and hair far longer than a regulation cut. I glance at Sheena, feeling a bit smug, because I doubt she even knows what a lumberjack is.
My gaze drifts to the horizon. Part of me wishes savages were real. Oh, what a treat it would be to see one. Better than seeing a real live lumberjack. But why would anyone want to live out here? It’s beautiful and I’m grateful I won a hiking tour in the recent Happiness Raffle, but I can’t imagine anyone making a home in the wildlands. Everyone knows it’s always too cold or too hot. Plus, lots of dangerous animals roam the forests. Bears, coyotes, snakes, mountain lions, and more. In the Old Days, before the safety of techno-cities, people actually had to worry about predators. I can’t imagine living like that, with fear as a constant companion.
As we begin the hike, following the guide up the curving dirt trail that leads through the tall trees, I only half-listen to Sheena as she babbles about the latest batch of female babies in the lab, all about to complete their ectogenesis cycles—future Workers with features so plain and brains so dull, she almost feels sorry for them. But a tiny furry creature scampers through the underbrush in the forest and catches my attention. Her words fade into the background as I observe the wondrous sight.
“Listen carefully,” Ranger Warren suddenly says, pausing in front of a large tree. The ten of us gather round, eager to listen to whatever he has to say about the wildlands. “This is a deciduous forest. Does anyone know what that means?”
The group falls silent. Timidly, I raise my hand.
“You there. Go ahead.” The guide nods at me with a polite smile.
“I believe that means the summers are hot and humid, the winters are cold and wet, often snowy, and most of the trees lose their leaves once a year.”
“Very good. And do you recall the four seasons?”
“Spring, summer, autumn, and winter.”
“Excellent. Do you know during which season the trees lose their leaves?”
“Autumn,” I say, as Sheena mumbles something about me being a showoff under her breath.
The entire group looks at me with wide eyes. I shrug and act like it’s no big deal I know about deciduous forests or the four seasons. Of course, inside the techno-cities, it’s always springtime, with lush plants growing year-round in the controlled climate. Furthermore, the screens covering the dome that houses the techno-city project a scenery of spring outside. None of my present companions would know what to think if dried leaves crunched under their feet during a stroll through the forest in autumn. I’ve read about that in old books too—about the peculiar but satisfying sound of dried leaves crunching underfoot.
“Very good again. Now, I bet you are all wondering what season we are in now. Look at the lush green trees and the flower buds and feel the air—warm but not too warm. It’s late spring,” Ranger Warren says quickly, as if worried I’m about to answer for him.
I decide I’d better not answer any more questions. It’s best I not draw attention to myself, lest he report me for possessing untoward knowledge. I don’t want him thinking I have a habit of reading banned books, though, in truth, I can count the number of banned books I’ve read on one hand. I’m simply good at pushing past the bland, recommended books in the front of the library to find long-forgotten tomes that paint a colorful—but often frightening—picture of the world that once was.
The guide urges us to resume walking, and we amble up a trail that becomes increasingly rocky. I love it, but many of my fellow hikers complain about the climb.
“I hope I’m lucky enough to win another hike outside the city during a subsequent Happiness Raffle,” I say to Sheena in a hushed voice, as if my wish won’t come true if anyone overhears. I’ll have to work especially hard in the Management Office to earn extra entries, but like any good Manager, I’m up for the challenge.
“If I ever win a hike in the wildlands, I promise to take you as my plus one, too,” Sheena says.
“Thanks. I love this. It’s better than any VR story I’ve experienced. It feels so...real.”
“Itisreal, silly. Speaking of VR stories, have you tried the one where you’re a mermaid swimming through the ocean? It’s amazing. I saw whales and sharks and a coral reef.” She pulls me close as we turn a corner and the path levels out. “And the musclebound merman who was my guide in the story was very,veryattentive—if you know what I mean.”
“I assure you I know what you mean,” I reply with a giggle. “I’ll be sure to give it a try soon.” Then I wonder if there are any historical VR stories with lumberjacks. Probably not. There are very few historical VR stories. Our Wise Leaders want us focused on the present and the future only.The past is darkness but now we live in light, they occasionally tell us, during the motivational speeches that are delivered into our homes each Sunday.
A young woman Sheena knows from the lab strikes up a conversation with her, and I fall behind them and the entire group, wanting to soak up every second of this excursion. I can’t help but wish I’d been manufactured as a Ranger, rather than a Manager. Rangers get to maintain the outer walls of the techno-cities and occasionally take groups on hikes. What an exciting job that must be.
It isn’t the first time I’ve questioned my place in life and my thoughts began to wander into increasingly dangerous territory. I would never dare voice such thoughts aloud, but what if...
What if people weren’t programmed and expected to perform a specific job for the rest of their lives?
