Joanna Kavenna - The Birth of Love

Prisoner 730004, you are once more mistaken in your reasoning. You must not simplify everything and draw it into your mythical and non-scientific worldview. The Institutions for the Improvement of the Reason are a necessary element in the protection of the species. The Protectors are wise and just. Now continue with your account.

It was then that we acted.

At this point you were already in a state of delusion about the nature of Birgitta’s illness?

I already knew that she was pregnant, yes.

So how did you ‘act’?

A group of us decided to leave Darwin C and take Birgitta with us. At the time she had not realised her power. She was just a very distressed person. She was still in a state — induced by her upbringing — of self-fear. She feared the bulging of her body. She feared being cast out from the confines of the Collective, from the world she had known all her life. She felt freakish and wanted to hide or to be cured. Indeed she basically accepted that she should go to an Institution for the Improvement of the Reason and it was only because of us that she did not. It is in a sense fortunate that none of the Corporeal Scientists would believe that she was really pregnant, otherwise she would — I think — have been easily convinced to have a termination. If you have been constantly told that something is true, that a particular reality is true, if you have grown up in a society which has disposed of the natural function of the female body, then it is quite understandable that you would regard pregnancy as a sickness. And Birgitta also felt that whether her illness was a sickness of the mind as the Corporeal Scientists told her or the ordinary symptoms of pregnancy, she was alone. Either she was mad or she was the only pregnant woman in Darwin C. And Birgitta was in such a state of self-fear that she thought either state was undesirable and terrifying.

You are digressing again, Prisoner 730004. Please explain precisely what happened. Though the Protectors seek to understand you, they are in truth less concerned with your vague musings about reality as you see it than they are with the plain facts of the case.

I am sorry. Lacking the analytical brilliance of the Protectors I find it hard to disentangle actions and thoughts.

We are talking of the circumstances of your departure from Darwin C.

Yes I understand, though in my weakness I can only perceive the circumstances of my departure as bound up with my gradual disaffection with the mores of our civilisation and my mounting sense of unease at the prospect of further years spent in the nurture grounds of Darwin C. In a sense I could not have physically departed from Darwin C had I not already become detached in my mind from the place. I came to realise that I could no longer accept my allotted role in the so-called war against nature and I therefore had to desert.

You accept then that your actions constitute a dereliction of your duties?

By the terms of our civilisation, as you call it, by the standards of the life in Darwin C, by the standards of the Protectors, then yes, I see I shall be punished.

You will be allocated a new role in the struggle for the survival of the species. Now Prisoner 730004, please return to the circumstances of your desertion of Darwin C.

It was very sudden. We never planned it, we just realised we had to leave.

Can you clarify at this point who ‘we’ is?

No, I’m afraid I can’t.

Why not?

Because I made a promise not to reveal the identities of my friends.

Prisoner, the Protectors, through us, assure you that it is categorically in your interest to co-operate fully with this process. Indeed a failure to do so will make things even more difficult for you and your co-conspirators.

I am grateful to the Protectors for their kind reminder. However, we swore an oath of secrecy and allegiance and I am afraid I cannot break it. In case some of my friends are still out there.

Out in the Restricted Area?

Yes.

You do not know where they are?

I have had no contact with anyone since the army came to our village.

Correction, Protection Agents. So you made no arrangements for reconvening if your camp was dispersed?

No such arrangements at all. Things weren’t like that. We felt free. We were among mountains and the sea. Infinite rocks and water. We felt as if our lives were peaceful and blessed. We certainly never imagined our village would be set upon and destroyed, that our huts would be burned, that they would beat and coerce us and that I would be sitting here in prison, being interrogated.

You are not being interrogated. The Protectors merely seek to understand your actions so they can better protect our Collective. The actions of the Protection Agents are always proportionate to the magnitude of the threat represented by the activities against which they are deployed. We cannot afford to be sentimental in our dealings with exceptional cases such as yours, lest we imperil the majority. This is a question of billions of lives.

I understand that humanity has destroyed the planet.

Nature has declared war on humanity and we must evolve and use all the technology at our disposal, or be vanquished.

You are more knowledgeable than I am.

Prisoner 730004, you are claiming that you have no idea of the whereabouts of your co-conspirators?

I do not know where my friends have gone, those that are still living.

You are aware, Prisoner 730004, that while the Protectors seek to understand you, the better to protect the Collective, they also insist on honesty as a central value of our civilisation. They cannot protect us unless we confide in them. So why will you not tell us, and thereby the Protectors, precisely who else was living in the Restricted Area?

I would like to be as honest as possible, and have no desire to hide our activities where my explanations can harm no one. Yet in this instance I have made a promise. You can torture me or threaten me with the mass-scale farms but I will not break it.

Prisoner 730004, your remarks have been noted. They will sadden the Protectors. Can we now return to the precise nature of your departure from Darwin C?

It was very exciting. I had never gone beyond the two sectors — the one in which I lived and the one in which I worked. In Darwin C I had the view from my space and that was as I said nothing but towers and by night there were red lights flashing from the tops of the highest towers. As far as I could see, there were towers. And the small figures passing beneath, all in their little dark smocks. And always the whirr of the air processing, I had never been anywhere without this constant whirr. I went from this constant mechanised whirr to the sound of waves. The cries of birds. The wind in the trees.

Can you tell us the precise chronology of your departure?

We met at the base of a tower. We had discovered there were supply trains running to and from the Arctic. Birgitta’s brother …

Correction, DNA relative …

… worked on one of them. He is gone now, as is Birgitta’s mother, so I can tell you that they helped us. Birgitta’s mother came with us, though she perished later. But the joy she felt at returning was so immense, so wonderful to behold, so I think it was a good thing she came, even though it killed her. I am certain it hastened her death. Conditions at first were very hard.

Correct ‘mother’ for the record as before. Prisoner 730004, we ask you to apply yourself only to the question of how you departed from Darwin C.

Yes, of course. Birgitta’s brother told us we must be at the loading bay at 3 a.m. He said he would load us into his section of the train. He was the porter for that section and so he could put us in a crate and say the crate contained special equipment going up to the mass-scale farms. He told us the passengers on that train were a desperate horde: those judged mentally unwell, former workers in the Centres for Sexual Release who were too old to attract people any more, or others who had exceeded their usefulness and could no longer be housed in Darwin C. They were all going to the mass-scale farms of course. We couldn’t see them but the worst thing was that we couldn’t hear them either. They were silent and I thought of them the whole journey, lined up in rows and knowing where they were going and that they would die there. They had been discarded. They were the discarded rubbish of our so-called civilisation. Stripped of any sense of individuality, or worth. They were merely being thrown away.