Relative Normality - Story Commitment

Relative Normality
It was a cold night on Io, one of Jupiter’s moons. Of course, all nights were cold there so this was not unexpected. The moon’s surface was still, but far below, at a very precisely calculated distance from the core, cities thrived. Of course it was perfectly calculated. Everything was perfectly calculated here. The architecture, the food, the lights, even the people were fitted to a perfect stereotype. All were conformed to the same body structure; all had the same shade of dark, straight brown hair that was kept short so as not impede their Work.
Work was the only thing different about these people, if they could be called people. Their biological readings were all precisely the same: body temperature, heartbeat, red blood cell count, everything. Each was a perfectly designed living machine, and each was built for a special purpose.
Even a large chunk of their brains were the same. This was the latest technology and, even though it was not quite perfected, the Developers were still quite proud of it. They were told to be proud by the computer that controlled the large portion of their brains and so they were proud. Part of the brain, however, could not be conformed or shut down or removed without killing or severely damaging its owner. Experiments had been done to prove this. And so it was put into hibernation. The Developers were still highly pleased with their results. The process worked 99% of the time: excellent reading for a first run.
No one had ever bothered to inquire what happened to the other one percent who the process did not work on. You certainly never saw them after they began to show problem signs. At least I never saw them again.
But granted for a long time the process worked on me too. I may have been seeing them and just been told that they were figments of my imagination. But I know for certain what happened after I began to remember. Don’t give me that look Doctor. I see that red pen working away like mad. You just don’t know…
I don’t remember much before I was 13. I suppose I was just like everyone else, with my short brown hair and brown eyes; my flat chest, long legs, and pale skin. But it was at 13 that I began to change. It started with my fingernails. They began to grow. Since all our nails were designed to be a specific length, they should remain basically the same throughout a person’s life. So when mine started to grow, I didn’t think anything of it at first. Minor problems sometimes happened at the onset of puberty. They went away in 3-4 months and were nothing to lose sleep over. But then it came to my 14th birthday. Birthdays were not a celebration: we went to an office, filled out some papers, and were considered a year older. My problems hadn’t gone away by then though. In fact, they got worse. My hair had started to grow too. I was scared. Funny that fear is the first emotion I remember. Does that mean anything Doctor? Well, I suppose it really doesn’t matter. I was so scared that I went and got a pair of scissors and began to cut my hair and nails. I performed this ritual almost weekly, in the dead of night, frightened that someone would awake and hear the “snip snip” and discover my secret. After my “crime” was complete I would hide the scraps down the garbage disposal.
I began to think. Actually think. For myself. That was the most frightening: that I had thoughts and feelings that no one else shared. I wanted to grow my hair out. I began crying when I had to cut it. I was tired of the drab grey that everyone wore. I was tired of looking like everyone else and doing everything I was told. That was the time that this new program came out. The one you are part of Doctor. I was desperate. I really thought I was crazy. I was mostly managing to control myself, but at the same time, I knew I wasn’t far from exposing myself. Yesterday, I snuck out of my house and decided not to come back until I had control of this situation. I wanted help. And I knew that if I wanted help, I would have to get it before my parents found out. They were normal. They would turn me in. They would take me to THEM! Don’t let them do that! Doctor please! It’s not my fault! HELP! Oh. Oh Doctor I’m very sorry to have attacked you like that. I guess I lost control. It’s getting worse. You must see my problem? Surely you can help me? I can’t keep going like this… Is there anything you can do?
Doctor, when I was waiting for you outside, I heard a nurse speaking to someone on the phone. She said “We will not punish here. This is a haven for the diseased.” What did she mean Doctor? What disease? What punishment? What’s wrong with me? Are you going to kill me? I suppose it’s no wonder I’m scared.
Why are you looking at me that way? You’re like me aren’t you? You’re different. Why doesn’t anyone know? You are a government employee right? It’s because you can hide it… Is that what you do here; help people learn to hide their differences? You’re going to help me learn. Then I go back home like everything is normal and pretend I never saw you. Well maybe I don’t want to! Maybe I don’t want to be normal! I won’t go back.
But you’re nodding. Why? You don’t take me seriously do you? STOP LAUGHING! Oh. Sorry. You’re right, I do need help. Ok, I’ll come with you. Where are we going? I suppose it really doesn’t matter though. Ooooo this place looks comfortable. What? This is my room? I get to stay here? Yes! Oh thank you! Thank you so very much! Wait. What’s this? I don’t like needles. Don’t stick that in me! OW! I’m scared! What’s going on?! Am I crazy Doctor?
Epilogue
As I stood over the unconscious body of the girl, I almost felt sad. Almost. I had trained myself to control my emotions. I could pass for Normal any day. But there was something about this girl… Out of all the cases like this that I had treated, she was the only one who had wanted my help. She was the only one to come voluntarily. Why? I would try to find out when I ran tests on her. The tests would determine the type of operation she needed. After the procedure, she would be returned to her family who would undergo a memory wipe and all would be back to normal.
The poor girl. She would never know the answers to her questions. I had wanted to tell her. How yes, I was like her and how the government was the scary monster under the bed that she had believed it to be. It was only through them that people like her and me had any chance at a normal life. I would have loved that life. Her protests and the protests of the others were something I had to work hard to understand. Didn’t they understand how much better that life would be? I often had craved that life; quiet, peaceful, going around doing just as you were told. You never had to stress or worry or make any hard choices. They just didn’t understand. I would have had the procedure if I could, but a strange blood type (Type Q) and a contaminated bone marrow had prevented it. Old records called my disease as Osteoporosis.
The girl had fallen with her eyes closed. For a moment I allowed my emotions to run free, though I knew I would regret it. She was beautiful. Had she been allowed to be different, she would have been the most sought after woman on Io. But women are not sought after on Io. They are assigned or rationed, but never sought after. My heart beat slightly faster as I looked at this girl. If only… I had never felt so far away from something that I desired. Suddenly I knew I couldn’t perform this procedure. I couldn’t turn this girl back into what she didn’t want to be.
Then the rational part of me took back over. I had tests to perform. I took her to the examining room and placer her inside the HyberTube. I set the machine to run the tests, then sat down to wait. I may have fallen asleep because the machine finished the tests very quickly. I went to the screen to look at them. For a moment, I couldn’t move. I checked the screen and ran back up tests to make sure. I even did something a little old fashioned and drew some of the girl’s blood to test. The results were confirmed. Blood type Q.