GuNNhead

In the mornings, she talks over Paul’s ideas with Maddie. After supper, the three talk of them together. Maddie seems to be the most enthusiastic, her reasons unclear, but her excitement is unmistakable. Together, Paul and Maddie convince Laura that maybe living a life dedicated to a corporation is not the best way to live a life. Perhaps, it is the nature of humanity to live for one’s self. Perhaps.

—

Laura’s face, sleeping peacefully in a dimly lit room. She wakes, with a start. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. She looks to her side, and raises a baby, covered in liquid. Lifeless. Did she drown it to escape being farmed for the colony? To be another of their property, like she was? Like everyone here was? No, it’s coated in embryonic fluid, freshly born. A medic droid slowly takes it from her grasp, as she remains in the pool of fluid. The bio-genetic birthing tentacles still wrap her stomach and legs. She falls back to sleep.

She calmly walks alone down a huge corridor, dressed in white, segments of her soft skin showing through the fashion. There are thousands of hexagonal windows revealing babies, children of all ages floating in a green pool. They are attached to wires and tubes of all sorts. She looks at them, feeling nothing, knowing this is how they must be raised until they are of useful age, heads filled with facts of life, hormones and brain chemistry controlled and regulated. The doors she is walking towards slides vertically open. Maddie walks in.
“How are you doing, Laura?” She jogs up to her position, before walking alongside her.
“I’m fine, the birthing process is so easy, almost feels like a day at the spa.”
“Oh, that’s simply lovely, I can’t wait until I can do my part.”
“Soon you will… Maddie, I had a very odd dream while.”
“Ooh, you must tell me of it.” They walk out the door together into the brightly lit hallway.

—

A flash. A child, five years old, happy, playing soccer in the red dirt inside a cave with friends. Lights strung up, adults looking on, smiling.

—

Laura’s face, sleeping peacefully in a dimly lit room. She wakes, with a start. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. She looks to her side, and raises a baby, covered in liquid. Lifeless. Did she drown it to escape being farmed for the colony? To be another of their property, like she was? Like everyone here was? No, it’s coated in embryonic fluid, freshly born. She’s in the birthing pool. She feels to her side, a pistol, Paul had given it to her. She lifts the newborn with the weapon under its chin, and fires. Brains splatter the medic droid’s faceplate as the blast carries on through it. It falls. The technorganic tentacles, startled, grasp her legs firmly. She fires at those as well, and they loosen, falling dead and limp. She hops off the table, and slides, attempting to stand weakly. She steadies herself on the rim of the birthing pool, with gun in hand. She runs out the door, into the hallway. The white light is blinding, filling the view.

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