Anomalies Read online

  My grandparents did not survive; neither did my aunts and uncles. But everyone with a chip did, thanks to Sobek Vesely. He brought our world out of its misery into a new era. My friends and I live in a new world where we will never know hunger or poverty or unhappiness.

  We are incredibly lucky.

  I get up and survey my small room. Although I’ve been mentally preparing for this summer for my entire life, I’m still not quite sure if I’ve packed enough. I like to be prepared for anything and everything. My duffel bag is on the bed. Annika and Rane will be here any minute. For the next three-and-a-half weeks, the three of us will be attending Monarch Camp, the Governance’s mandated camp for all fifteen-year-olds.

  Since the Global Governance was established fifty years ago, all children are required to attend camp when they turn five and return ten years later, to be reunited with their intended partner and assigned to their new community. It’s the single most important event of my life; yet as I scroll down the packing list, I don’t want to think about my future … only my present. I wonder if I’m bringing enough stuff. In a pinch, I could always borrow bits and pieces from Annika or Rane, but I’m so freakishly tall, none of their clothes will really fit me. Most of my supplies are already crammed into my blue duffel bag, except the bandanna my father gave me. I’ve knotted it and wrapped it around my wrist, like a bracelet.

  There are six work communities: Labor, Agriculture, Ecosystem, Renewable Energy, Ocean, and Academic. Like all members of the Ocean Community, I am identified by the color of my community. Sobek Vesely’s rationale for assigning us a chromatic dress code is to help us understand that the community is bigger than the individual—that we are all united in working toward a collective goal. So, all of my clothes are blue. It’s not that I’m particularly vain, but with red hair and light blue eyes, I lucked out. I sometimes wonder what it would have been like if I had to grow up wearing brown like the Agricultural Community or purple like the Labor Community. Hopefully, I’ll never know.

  Once I’m assigned to my future occupation community, a butterfly will be tattooed on my left shoulder with my community’s signature color. My best friend Annika’s older sister has a cobalt and sapphire-colored butterfly on her left shoulder, and Rane’s mother has a gorgeous turquoise butterfly tattoo on her left shoulder. Most people who grow up in the Ocean Community are reassigned here, so I’ve been planning my exact butterfly tattoo color for most of my life. Annika and Rane both want azure, but I want aqua—the color of the ocean. That’s where I’m happiest—it’s where I feel safe.

  Before the Great Technology War, the oceans used to be so polluted you couldn’t even swim in them or eat the fish. Since Sobek Vesely and the Global Governance rebuilt our society, the waters have become a beautiful aquamarine blue, and completely clean. The ocean is the sole source for our water supply. At the Desalination Plant, where my father works, salt is taken out of the ocean water. Biologists, like my father, work hard to ensure that the water is always clean.

  Footsteps stomp up the stairs before I hear my best friend’s voice calling, “Hurry up, Keeva.”

  Annika barges into my room. At 5’3,” Annika Aames is nearly six inches shorter than I am and the clumsiest person I know. Still, I kind of envy her. At 5’9,” I am way too tall, way too skinny, and my hair is the color of the sunset. I’m not the kind of person who likes to stick out in a crowd; I’ve made it a habit to try to blend in for most of my life. It’s easier that way.

  “Where’s Rane?” I zip up the duffel bag, after haphazardly stuffing it with more of my clothes. All blue.

  “Downstairs. You nervous?” Annika’s bright brown eyes scan my face. She can always tell if I’m lying.

  “A little. But it’s all predestined, right? So there’s no point in being nervous.” Even as I’m saying it, there is something dancing in the back of my mind … an idea I don’t really understand, which is niggling at me. “Anyway, we’re just being imprinted with our other half and then assigned to a community … and we’re all going to be Oceans, right?”

  Annika nods, her high ponytail swinging back and forth as she definitively bobs her head up and down. She, Rane, and I made a pact last week when Rane turned fifteen. Since we’re all born in June, we are assigned to Summer Solstice Monarch Camp. The camp operates four times a year, and we’re really happy that we get to go to camp when it’s warm out. The camp is set in Mid-America and I hear it can get ridiculously cold during the Fall Equinox and Winter Solstice sessions. Annika, Rane, and I plan to stay in the Ocean Community, and it shouldn’t be a problem because the Global Governance, or GG, always encourages pairs to relocate to the female’s community.

  “No matter what, I’m going to stay in the Ocean Community. Could you imagine working for Renewable Energy? Boring!” Annika paces around the room. She has a hard time keeping still.

  “I think it sounds cool. Getting energy from natural sources.”

  “Or Ecosystem, yawn.” Annika keeps talking, a mile a minute. She does that a lot when she wants to make a point. Nothing detracts from her focus. “But the good thing about Ecosystem is at least they wear green, and that would look great with your coloring, Keeva. Red hair, a million freckles—”

  “A billion freckles,” I interrupt.

  “Exactly! You’d look gorgeous. Especially if you got a kelly-green butterfly tattoo.”

  “Why are we even discussing this?” I mutter. “We’re both staying in the Ocean Community.”

  “Sure. Unless we’re Anomalies.”

  We’re quiet for a minute. There are horror stories about Anomalies: people who get to camp and cannot be reunited with their intended partners due to unforeseen circumstances. They either never come back from camp or are reassigned to other communities.

  “Don’t look so serious,” Annika laughs. “We’ll be fine. Though I barely remember my partner. Doug, I think, or Danny … Daniel … Dave? It’s something that starts with a D.” Annika shrugs, “It’s weird that we’re imprinted when we’re so young. You’d think the GG would want us to hang out or something to make sure we’re compatible.”

  “Everyone’s compatible,” I say. “That’s why I’m not nervous, because the GG has done the research for us. Our genes match up with theirs. We’ll have perfect kids and good lives. Although, all I remember about my intended partner is that he had blue eyes. The color of the ocean.”

  “We both have lousy memories,” Annika laughs.

  “Tell me about it.” I can barely remember anything from my childhood, let alone my intended partner. We met at Monarch Camp when we were five, spent three weeks playing together and being tested for compatibility, but that is a faded memory. I can’t even remember his name … only the blue of his eyes. Spinning … spinning … the memory forms and I push it to the back of my mind, “I just hope he’s cute.”

  “I know!” Annika giggles. “All I remember is that Doug/Danny had a really big head.”

  “He was five. He’s probably grown into it by now.”

  “Annika! Keeva!” Rane’s voice echoes from downstairs. “Hurry up.”

  “Here’s to the first day of the rest of our lives.” I grab the duffel bag off the bed and easily sling it over my shoulder. Annika follows me down the stairs, toward our exciting future.

  THE SECOND THE TELECAST WAS OVER, Sobek jumped up from his chair. He hated when studio people came to the Palace. He loathed faking smiles and wearing makeup to give his skin more pigment. What he really hated was these media messages, but they were necessary. His citizens expected him to feed them propaganda and he was king of the spin.

  “Where’s my son?” he barked to the mousy Academic woman who had been hired to organize the telecast.

  “The virtual game room in the South Wing,” she said before disappearing around a corner.

  Sobek grinned. No one liked to be around him for very long. Humans were such sensitive creatures, and they didn’t do well with criticism or harsh language. Sobek made it a practice to bo
th criticize and speak down to his employees. He thrived on their fear.

  It made him stronger.

  He preferred this compound in Sabbatical City to his other palaces in the Asias and Australia. There was something sleek and glitzy about it that reminded him of his own planet so many lifetimes ago. His other two headquarters were located on the other side of the world: Pyramid City based in the Giza Pyramid in the former Egypt and Argyle City based in the old Argyle diamond mine where his workers crystallized the diamonds, along with his own secret compound, into Thirds.

  Sobek looked around at his sumptuous palace in the heart of Sabbatical City. It was filled with statues of gods these people had worshipped centuries earlier. Before he took over the world, this used to be called Caesar’s Palace and was located in a silly place called Las Vegas.

  It was as if waves parted as Sobek stormed through the compound, looking for his heir. Calix had grown up alongside other children. He had schooled with them and played with them: this was important for his socialization. One can’t control what one does not understand. But playtime was over and Sobek was ready to groom his son to take over his kingdom.

  First, his son would have to be properly educated.

  I am flying.

  Annika, Rane, and I board the helicraft outside our secondary school. The large black machine takes off quickly, leaving my beloved community behind. I watch the ocean disappear as the helicraft heads due east. I live on the coastline of West America, in a place that was once called northern California. I put my nose to the window and look through the dark glass as the terrain turns from green to brown. Once upon a time, this trip would have taken longer. That was before the war, when the world looked a lot different.

  After the war, the polar ice caps in the North Pole melted. South America, Antarctica, and Europe instantly sank into the oceans, killing all of their citizens. The United States barely survived, left with only eleven of its original states. Our west coast and slightly inland survived and Africa’s east coast and slightly inland survived. Canada and Mexico were similarly decimated. Only Asia and Australia remained completely intact, in a bizarre twist of fate where countries sank despite their mountainous regions. It was simply a matter of geographic placement.

  The world was quickly redivided.

  The former United States and Canada, only shells of their former greatness, were trisected into three parts: West, Mid- and East America. West America and East America are bordered by oceans. Mid-America is the section of land between. The Americas take up about a third as much land as they used to before the war because everything from the former East Coast all the way to Texas in the South and up to North Dakota sank underwater.

  Monarch Camp is located smack-dab in the middle of Mid-America on the former border of Utah and Nevada. As we soar through the air, I see a never-ending expanse of brown, dry land beneath me. There are very few bodies of water as we fly farther inland. A lake here and a lake there but nothing significant. I squeeze my armrests and watch the white of my knuckles as I try to control my panic. I’m not sure what is happening to me; I feel a sense of dread knowing that I’ll be landlocked for the next few weeks.

  Rane, Annika and I sit in the helicraft’s first four rows. There are three rows of three seats behind us. The helicraft carries twelve fifteen-year-olds from our community and one pilot. We don’t speak during the ride. Each of us is too nervous about what we are going to find when we arrive at camp. Rane senses my anxiety and squeezes my arm. Her touch calms me. The bright royal blue of her fingernail polish contrasts sharply with the porcelain color of her skin. Throughout my life, Rane has always been there for me when I’ve been nervous. So has Annika. So what do I have to be nervous about? For most people, Monarch Camp is a solitary experience. I get to go there with not one, but two best friends.

  I close my eyes and try to relax. There are ten heli-crafts in total from each community, each carrying a dozen teenagers. Math’s never been my strong suit, but Rane, who’s a whiz at everything, told us that there will be around 840 total campers at this session. Before the Great Technology War the population was out of control and there were over five million fifteen-year-olds … which means a few hundred thousand would have been attending the Summer Solstice session. Now, there are just a tiny fraction of those teens left.

  That’s why Sobek Vesely and his Global Governance have worked so hard to protect us from our past: to preserve our future.

  And I know exactly what my future will be. Annika, Rane, and I will end up back in the Ocean Community. It is all I know and all I want to know. All three of our families have lived in this community since the war and I don’t want to live anywhere else. The Aameses and the Crow-leys have been like a family to me as long as I can remember. The three of us were raised like sisters, constantly sleeping over at each other’s houses, swimming, and planning our futures together. After my mom died, I probably spent as much time at Annika’s house as my own, and her big sister Quill and her sister’s partner Jed have been like older siblings to me. I’m not as close with the Crowleys, Rane’s parents, although I used to have a crush on Rane’s older brother, Cannon. He went to Monarch Camp three years ago and now lives in East America in the Academic Community with his partner Jo. Even though he visits on the two prescribed visiting weeks each year, he already seems … different: like a foreigner.

  So my plan is to have a fun three weeks, reunite with my partner and return to the Ocean Community to fulfill my destiny.

  “Stop daydreaming,” Rane nudges me. “We’re here.”

  I look out the window. We are hovering in the air and there are helicrafts to our right and left. Below, a line of helicrafts land in an orderly fashion. The large, black, flying machines take turns landing on the designated heliport that sits in the middle of the mountainous range.

  Once we land, we lug our duffel bags through a large tunnel, which has been carved through a mountain. We walk single file. Annika is ahead of me, Rane is behind. It is dimly lit and hard to see so we must take small steps in order not to trip, which Annika does—three times. We walk like this for almost a mile until we finally see the light. Just beyond the tunnel’s exit is the camp. I blink several times as my eyes adjust to the bright sunlight. It is flatland as far as the eye can see. These parts used to be called the Bonneville Salt Flats, a densely packed salt pan that covered thirty thousand acres. There used to be little significance to the area before it became the site for the America’s Monarch Camp.

  Before the Global Governance built a camp on top of the salt pan, it was just loads of salt, a few abandoned government buildings and old airfields. There is now no longer a need for the government buildings. The old national government used to be based in a place called Washington, which sank during the polar ice melt and is now completely under water.

  So Sobek condemned all the old government buildings because he had no need for extraneous government locations, including these former government buildings. He condemned the airfields on the Salt Flats where the former government carried out military experiments. Sobek doesn’t believe in global warfare so once he came into power, all munitions and bombs were destroyed.

  “The only weapons we need are our minds,” is one of Sobek’s mottos.

  This motto is etched into our currency chips as a constant reminder of the importance of peace. In his palace in Sabbatical City, Sobek finds ways to keep the world at peace. I smile, lucky to be alive in a time when calm and nonviolence will always prevail.

  “Welcome to Monarch Camp,” Annika reads from the huge sign at the entrance of the camp. It is made out of sheet metal and there are seven colored butterflies hanging from the bottom of the sign, spinning in the wind. Each community’s color is represented by a butterfly painted in purple, brown, green, red, blue, yellow, or black.

  As we pass under the sign, we each tap our respective butterflies. Annika, Rane, and I reach up and hit the blue butterfly, which is hanging in between Renewable Energy’s Red butterfly and
Ecosystem’s Green butterfly. I feel giddy as I share in the collective energy of the kids all entering camp. While I am making my official entrance, a boy knocks into me as he is hitting his red butterfly. He doesn’t even apologize.

  “Um, excuse me,” I tap him on the shoulder.

  “What?” he smiles as he spins around.

  “You just bumped into me.”

  “Sorry about that, Beanpole, but how do you know you didn’t bump into me?” He has full lips and a large toothy smile. He is much cuter than any of the boys at home, but I quickly dismiss this as I confront him.

  “Beanpole?” He is as tall as I am and I glare into his mocking eyes. “You were the one who bumped my shoulder.”

  “And I’m saying, maybe you bumped my shoulder.”

  “You’re being ridiculous.” I don’t have a lot of experience with boys outside of my community. I wonder if they are all this obnoxious.

  “Maybe I did and maybe I didn’t, but I definitely know that I’m not the one who is holding up the line.” He grins again. Sure enough, there is a long line of Oceans waiting to pass through the opening, and I am holding them up.

  “Whatever.” I knock my butterfly and enter the camp. I want to scream at him but he is already ahead of me, surrounded by his posse of red. I won’t let my first day be ruined. My life is about to officially begin and I couldn’t be happier. It’s weird that I can barely remember this place from my childhood. How strange that, as a five-year-old, I must have walked a mile underground without being afraid. Or taken a helicraft without fear.