David Moody - Them or Us

I try to bite my lip and stop myself, but I can’t help speaking out again. I wish I could ignore what’s happening and switch off, but the memory of what happened to all three of my own children keeps me asking questions and searching for answers I know I’ll probably never find.

“It’s a paradox, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“What you’re talking about. You’re saying we have to straighten out our kids and corrupt the Unchanged. Isn’t there a danger you’ll just end up breaking all of them? Aren’t you just going to end up with generation after generation of fuckups? Kids that can’t fight, can’t think, can’t even function?”

Hinchcliffe just looks at me and grunts, and I think I’ve gone too far again.

“Sorry,” I apologize quickly, remembering who I’m talking to. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Yes you should,” he says, surprising me. “You should keep challenging like this. I told you, no one else has got the balls to do it. You see things differently than the rest of them.”

“I’m not trying to be difficult, I’m just—”

“You’re just saying what you think, and that’s a good thing. You might turn out to be right about everything, but for the record, I don’t think you are. Thing is, there’s no way of knowing yet. The world these kids will end up inheriting will be completely different from anything we’ve experienced, different from what we’re seeing now, even. Until then, the only thing we can do is explore every possibility and cover all eventualities.”

“That’s a tall order. How are you planning to do that?” I ask. I’m really struggling to keep up with Hinchcliffe’s fast pace now and I’m relieved when he finally stops walking. He turns around and grins. It scares the shit out of me when he looks at me like that.

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” he says. “It’s like everything else. It all boils down to supply and demand.”

17

MY EVENING WITH HINCHCLIFFE is clearly far from over. His speed increases again as we continue farther along the seawall. I’m left dragging behind, panting hard and drenched with sweat, and there’s absolutely no one else around. I look back the way we just came and see that we’ve traveled a surprising distance away from the center of town. The walk back to the house is going to take forever.

“You’re far too tense, Danny,” he says, waiting for me to catch up again. “I know exactly what you need. Help you get rid of some of that pent-up frustration.”

“All I need is some sleep. I’ll be okay in the morning.”

“You’ve been saying that for weeks.”

I notice there are several buildings up ahead, barely visible in the increasing darkness until now. Hinchcliffe pauses to light a cigarette. He blows out smoke, flicks the match over the wall, then moves on, leading me away from the ocean now and up a steep climb along a muddy pathway. As we get closer, I see that there are dull lights flickering in the windows of one of the buildings. It’s hard to make out much detail, but it looks like one of those dime-a-dozen seafront hotels you always used to find in places like this. We cross a road to get closer, and I see that its frontage is painted a grubby powdery blue. There’s a lopsided signpost at this end of the short front yard, two truncated lengths of chain hanging down where the building’s name would once have hung. There’s a guard standing just inside the door. I recognize him right away. It’s Joe Chandra, one of Hinchcliffe’s most prized fighters. He’s a distinctive, ugly-looking bastard. He looks like a comic-book villain with burns covering almost exactly half of his face. I haven’t seen him around in a while. Just assumed he was dead. So what’s Hinchcliffe got him posted all the way out here for? My heart’s pounding suddenly, and this time it’s not because of the effort of the walk.

“What is this place, Hinchcliffe?”

“The solution to a couple of problems,” he replies, giving little away.

“What problems?”

“Regardless of what they turn out to be, we need people to keep having kids. Also, people need food and they have a need to procreate. So here they can fuck and be fucked for food. Sounds like some kind of screwed-up charity drive, eh?”

I’m so taken aback by what I’m hearing that I don’t realize I’ve followed him into the building until we’ve already passed Chandra at the door and gone right inside. The air indoors smells stale. It’s quiet, and Hinchcliffe’s voice echoes off the walls.

“Like it or not, my friend, kids are going to become a valuable commodity. I’m just trying to cover all the bases and keep control of the stock. All that most people are interested in today is staying alive, and they’ll do whatever it takes to achieve that. The women I’ve got here are willing to get pregnant for food, the men are more than willing to try to get them pregnant.”

“So which is it? A brothel or a sperm bank?”

“Both, I suppose!” He laughs, filling the building with his noise. “It’s hardly the love boat, if that’s what you mean, but it does the trick.”

“There are no lines at the door. You’d have thought—”

“Times have changed, mate. We’ve changed. Romance and relationships have gone right out of fashion since we all started killing each other, but people still need to fuck.”

“But where is everyone?”

“I’m being selective. You didn’t know about this place until now, and I tell you more than I tell most people. You have to detach yourself from what used to matter now, Danny. These are business decisions. Doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy your work, though!”

“How far have we fallen if sex has just become a business decision?” I ask as we climb a twisting staircase that smells damp. Thin curtains have been draped over the windows, and the faint yellow light comes from infrequently spaced oil lamps.

“Oh come on, don’t get all soft on me,” he groans. “People have been selling sex since year one. You have to face facts, we all do. This is how things have to be for now, and that’s why I’ve been selective with the people I’ve allowed to get involved in this so far. Better that a woman gets pregnant by someone who can still fight than by one of the losers drifting around out there outside the compound. If I started advertising this place there’d be a line of underclass men outside the door twenty-four/seven, desperate to sow their pathetic seed for a quick thrill and a half-decent meal. It’s tough and it’s not fair, but for now this is how it has to be.”

“I don’t think it’s right.”

“To be honest, pal,” he says, stopping at the end of a gloomy landing, “I don’t care. I didn’t bring you here because I wanted your blessing.”

“So why did you bring me?”

“Christ, why do you think?”

“I don’t know … I…”

“You’re not the strongest, Danny, but you’ve got brains, and I know you can fight when you have to. You’ve already fathered one kid like us.”

He grabs my arm and pulls me farther down the corridor.

“But I—”

“You can come here anytime you want,” he tells me, pushing me toward an open door. Light spills across the landing. “The women leave their doors open when they’re ready. Everyone’s a winner here, you know. I give them double rations if they get pregnant, or I would if any of the useless cows had actually managed it.”

My brain’s spinning, struggling to catch up with what’s happening, and my body is numb and unresponsive. I just stand there, staring into the hotel room, remembering the last time I was in a place like this. I remember looking for Lizzie, and I wish she was here today. The memory of her face fills me with pain. Despite everything that happened between us and what we both became, there’s a part of me that still clings to what we used to have and the family we made together. Hinchcliffe shoves me forward again, and I make a desperate, instinctive grab for either side of the door frame, not wanting to go through.