1.
Becoming an adult
I hear my grandmother's voice in the distance. She appears in my dreams and never fails to visit on my birthday. I've been seeing her since I was a young child. She's technically my great-great-great. I don't really know how many greats, but she's my ancestor. The darkness in my brain turns into light as her soft voice reaches my ears. My body is traveling through a dream landscape. It is pitch black. I arrive at her home. Light finally reaches me. It's a home from centuries ago, and it's unlike anything I've experienced in Natura Meta, the tribe I was born into. Her home is made of stone, bright yellow, and has many plants I've only seen in simulations. She welcomes me with open arms. Her name is Beatriz, a name that means one who brings joy.
The first time she appeared to me was when I was in the toddler barracks, where the young children of the tribe are reared. I thought she was a human caretaker. It was odd because all the other caretakers were non-sentient life forms, robots. I was three years old when this old woman with long white hair held me. She had hair. No one has hair in the barracks. We are taught that characteristics that make us unique, like hair, are dangerous for the common good. Sameness is a virtue. Difference is a danger.
I felt such comfort and safety in Beatriz's arms. It was an unusual feeling. The caretakers that took care of my needs did not hold me in the same way. Their arms were cold. Her arms were warm. At that time, I didn't know we were a part of each other.
The toddler training program consists of structured play throughout the day. Educators take care of lessons that primarily teach right speech and right play. The nonhuman caretakers take care of everything else. The first time my grandmother held me, I felt an emotion that was new. It was a closeness different from any other I'd experienced in the barracks. She later explained that this was love. This word is ancient, one that is no longer used. It's considered wrong speech.
Beatriz speaks to me in Spanish. A forbidden tongue. Ancient languages are against the rules. Only one language is acknowledged as benefiting all. English is the only tongue that survives here. I learned to understand Spanish after many visits. Sometimes, during lessons with the educators, I would repeat the words I was learning outside of my dreams. They quickly erased my memory. One injection has the power to selectively erase knowledge and memories. It's a tool educators often use to ensure all the children achieve the same outcomes. I soon understood that the visits with Beatriz were meant to stay secret. She returned in my dreams and retaught me everything they'd erased.
The erasing of my memory happened again and again. That's when I decided to record my voice in a tiny recorder that I keep hidden in my teeth. It's how I would remember after they erased my memories. My body received so many injections that my body organically developed a natural defense against the psychoactive drugs forced on me. Eventually, I became immune to the injections I would receive, but I didn't tell them that. I have continued to record my voice, just in case.
I understood that Beatriz was to stay hidden deep within my psyche. She is my special confidential dream. As a young one, I often wondered if the other children in the barracks had their ancestors visit them too. I didn't dare ask. I obeyed. I had no choice but to behave and follow the rules just like all the other children in the barracks.
There was one dream that was different from the others. We were in front of a stone building that had a bell tower. Beatriz dressed me in a white gown and carried me inside. She carried my infant body through an aisle with pews on either side of us. The windows were full of color, depicting scenes of ancient humans. We walked up to the front, where a pool of water glistened. Beatriz poured the water over me while she whispered. I did not know the meaning of her words. The water felt cool on my forehead. Afterwards, she told me I was now baptized. I'm still figuring out what this means, but I was happy to please her. She explained that she crossed my forehead so that the Word of God may be in my thoughts and purify my mind. She crossed my lips so that my speech may be holy and inclined me to share the Gospel with others. And she crossed my heart to invite God to strengthen my love for Him and others.
The visits with her are always brief. Over the years, I've been able to assemble meaning from the wisdom she shares, but it remains a puzzle that doesn't make complete sense. My education has only taught me to survive in Natura Meta. Beatriz is from a different time and place. What she's been teaching me is so foreign. It sometimes scares me. I don't know if I could survive in her world. I'm conscious of how unique this relationship is. She exists in a way that benefits me as an individual, not for the benefit of all. The benefit of all is the only reason to exist in Natura Meta. The formal education I receive may be for the benefit of all, but my grandmother is teaching me that there is more to learn beyond the walls I was born in. I'm impatient and always demand answers in the moment. She reminds me that I must take things as they come. The time will arrive when clarity finds me. Something she calls prayer has helped me find calm. I don't quite get what she describes as a conversation with the divine. I like my grandmother and mimic what she does. I'm starting to find that praying helps me relax. I'm able to meditate on the things she teaches me. If only I could live in my dreams. I would be much wiser than I currently am.
It's my eighteenth birthday. I'm in Beatriz's kitchen, where she is cooking and singing the birthday song. Her home is in a place called San Antonio de los Laureles. There are many kisses and hugs. I'm happy here. The food is unlike anything I'm allowed to eat in the cafeteria. In Natura Meta, everyone is vegan. The flesh of an animal is against the rules for consuming or wearing. In my visits with my grandmother, I've tasted flesh. It's a unique flavor. I like it. She is making my favorite meal, mole sauce with chicken and rice. There's cake too. Sugar is also against the rules in the barracks.
The flurry of activity quiets down in the kitchen. Beatriz's mood shifts. She talks to me about the long road ahead and the search I must undertake. I smile at her, not quite understanding what she's getting at. She tells me that it's my time to be a man and begin my journey. I have so many questions, but there's no time. She begins to disappear.
I wake up. A barrack leader approaches me and scans the barcode on the back of my neck. Everyone in Natura Meta is scannable. We all have microchips implanted in our splenius capitis that give us access to shared files that help us communicate with each other. I'm instructed to wait with a hand motion. The rest of my peers are completing the morning routine after scanning. All of them move to phase two except for me. I wait and can still taste the sweetness from the cake. I smile while remembering. The barrack leader returns. It speaks. I don't remember the last time one spoke to me directly. I'm ordered to undress and leave my sleeping area as is. This is it. I'm leaving the barracks. The day of my graduation into the adulting program is here.
When a child turns eighteen in the barracks, there's an assessment of one's capabilities that defines the role one must take for the benefit of all. It's the day human children in my tribe most look forward to. I post on my social media profile that I'm beginning my valuation process. There's one approved social media platform that everyone in the tribe participates in. All the lessons and training lead up to this moment. Each phase of learning is directed by educators who are human. The barrack leaders coordinate daily needs like eating and bathing. Educators are only seen during instruction. The Council has deemed it so. They are the supreme leaders of this society made up of a group of humans that have achieved the highest levels of excellence for the benefit of all.
I'm led into an empty waiting room. The barrack leader directs me to sit in an assessment bubble. My body is to be analyzed. During analysis, my brain is willed into unconsciousness.
I escape into memory and go back to the day my grandmother gave me my name, Gabriel. I was five years old. It is the day I became someone outside of the group of children being groomed to be obedient members of Natura Meta. Beatriz explained that I had a name and that I was a "he." Everyone in my tribe is referred to as they or them.
But in Natura Meta, names are obsolete. The barcodes in our system are our identity. We scan each other and know what we need to know about the other. Your rank determines which files we have access to. Singular pronouns are wrong speech and not allowed. We learn that sameness is equity. All humans receive an equal balance of genes from ancient human races to create one mixed race where there's minimal differentiation among us. The manipulation of conception is regarded as a key science to achieve the benefit of all.
The Council's constitution states that "they are created equal with certain unalienable rights that must benefit all." I am only referred to as "they" or as a part of "them" in the barracks. No individual holds a name like the ancient humans. They believe that strength in society is built by the group. Everyone is the...
