21 April, 2140
My name is Anna. Anna Covey.
I’m a Legal. That means I’m allowed to be here.
I have the certificate right here in front of me. I’m not a Burden on Mother Nature any more.
I can take Longevity drugs too, if I want to. The man from the Authorities who comes around once a week to see how we’re Assimilating, says that it’s very important I take them. That otherwise I’ll get ill, and suffer from Old Age and Death.
But I don’t want to. I’m not afraid of dying. I’m not afraid of anything any more.
We live in a house in Bloomsbury now – the one my parents lived in. The house is full of light from the sun, which shines through the front windows in the morning and the back windows in the afternoon because it’s spring now, even if it’s still very cold. All the walls are painted in warm colours, which I chose to remind me of Mrs Sharpe’s house. There are reds and oranges and yellows, and we have thick carpet on the floor and big sofas that are soft and covered in cushions.
There’s a picture of my parents too, on the mantelpiece, to remind us. Because they saved us. Because they died.
I used to think that my parents were Selfish, that they didn’t care about me. But they did care – about me and Ben. They cared so much that they sacrificed themselves to make us Legal. They left us a letter, telling us that they died because they owed us a life, and they wanted to give it to us. They said they’d always planned it this way, that they’d hoped to have had a little more time with us, but that you can’t always predict what’s going to happen, and that at least they knew we were going to be safe. And they said that we should look for Peter, and try to rescue him. That they wished they could have saved him too. The letter said the pink pills were always their last resort, when they knew that there was no alternative, when they knew that all other hope was lost.
I wish they’d known about Peter’s grandfather. I think that would have made them much happier . . .
‘Anna? Where are you?’
Anna looked up to see Peter walking through the sitting room door, and smiled.
‘How was work?’
Peter grimaced. He worked in a local laboratory now, something that Anna found rather comical bearing in mind his lack of enthusiasm in Science and Nature. But he said it was better than working for his grandfather. His grandfather who made Longevity drugs. Peter hated his grandfather even more than he hated the Authorities. And nearly as much as he hated Mrs Pincent. Once Peter had found out what his grandfather did for a living, he had refused all contact.
‘All right, I s’pose.’ He bent down to pick up Ben, then looked at Anna and frowned.
‘What’s that?’
His eyes were on the soft, pink suede book that Anna was holding, and she reddened. It still felt slightly illicit, writing down her thoughts for anyone to see.
‘I got my journal back,’ Anna said awkwardly. ‘They sent it to me. There’s a letter for you too, from Mrs Pincent, from the prison. From your mother, I mean . . .’
She took out a piece of cream paper and handed it to Peter, who frowned and pushed it away.
‘Not interested,’ he said dismissively, then he looked at her curiously.
‘Are you still writing in that thing?’ he asked, his eyes taking in the pen Anna was holding.
Anna looked at him defensively. ‘I was just writing about the house,’ she said, ‘and Ben, and life on the Outside.’
Peter shook his head. ‘Anna, you have to live life on the Outside, not write about it. Come on, I want to go for a walk, and I want you and Ben to come with me.’
Anna looked at him hesitantly. She loved going out – spent all her time out in their small garden, marvelling at the colour of the grass, at the flowers growing, thinking how beautiful and majestic Nature was, how lucky she was to be able to see the sky unhindered. She felt as if she could breathe in the entire sky. She loved pointing things out to Ben, like birds and clouds, knowing that he’d never be deprived of them. But then the garden was safe territory for Anna; walls and fences protected her. She’d physically left Grange Hall behind, but she still felt safest within boundaries, even self-imposed ones.
‘People always stare at us,’ she said quietly.
‘Let them,’ Peter said, with a shrug. ‘In fact I like them staring. I hope we terrify them. Young people. Scary teenagers.’
He pulled a face, and Anna found herself laughing.
‘You’re not afraid of anyone, are you?’ she said, looking at him in wonderment. ‘Don’t you mind people whispering behind our backs? Don’t you mind that no one likes us?’
Peter raised his eyebrows. ‘I don’t like them either. Don’t have time for people who think they deserve to live for ever. Anyway, people do like us. The Underground like us.’
Anna nodded awkwardly. Peter had already joined the Underground Movement. In spite of the danger, he spent most of his free time doing secret errands and sitting in on furtive meetings held in random places around London, which were only announced half an hour before. Peter relished the idea of a revolution, and when they were alone, he talked excitedly about the battle ahead, but it made Anna nervous. People always died in battles, and she didn’t want to lose anyone else. Especially not Peter.
‘So come on,’ Peter said impatiently, his eyes darting around in their familiar manner but with excitement now, not trepidation. ‘Let’s go outside. Let’s go scare the old people.’
He grinned encouragingly, and Anna, who could never resist Peter, put her journal down, smiling.
‘Get Ben’s coat,’ she instructed Peter as he leant over to kiss her, then she started to put on her shoes.
But as Peter left the room, she picked up her journal again. Perhaps it was time to stop writing, she thought to herself as she flicked through the pages. Perhaps it was time to start living instead. But not before her journal was properly finished. The new fable of Anna and Peter had barely started, she knew that, but that didn’t mean that her journal couldn’t have its own ending.
Thoughtfully, she picked up her pen and turned to the back page, then started to write.
Life on the Outside is very different from Grange
Hall. Better different. Wonderful different.
There are no Rules, and no Instructors. There’s no beating, or punishments, and I’m learning to cook with food from the maximarket and learning to plant vegetables in the Allotment.
We have a computer in our house, and it tells us the news and we can talk to people with it. Peter’s teaching me to type, and he says I’m going to be very Valuable to the Underground because of my ‘inside knowledge’ of Surplus Halls. He told me that the Underground say all of us are Valuable because we’re ‘young, and the young are the future’.
Being Valuable is different from being a Valuable Asset, though. No one owns me any more, they said. I can do what I want with my life. All of us can.
I don’t know what I want to do with my life yet. Peter wants to fight for the Underground – he’s always talking about ‘war’ and ‘revolution’, and he insists that they’re going to stop Longevity, and that afterwards there won’t be Surpluses any more.
I worry more about the Surpluses now, though. About Sheila, and Tania and Charlotte and even Charlie. Because they’re still at Grange Hall, still in that cold, grey prison, working to pay for their Parents’ Sins, working to be Valuable just because Legal people got here first.
I don’t know what’s going to happen to them. And when I ask Peter, he frowns and talks about the ‘bigger picture’ and needing to focus on the cause, not just the effect.
I don’t know about that. But I do know that the world is the most beautiful place to be and that we’re very lucky to be here. I know that we have to live each moment because we won’t be here for ever, and that I wouldn’t want to be anyway, because knowing something’s going to end makes you appreciate it more, makes you want to savour every moment.
And I know that I won’t sign the Declaration, even if it makes me different, even if it makes me suspicious. Because no one needs to live for ever.
I think that sometimes you can outstay your welcome.
I also know that I’m not Surplus Anna any more.
I am Anna Covey: Opt Out.