After lunch, they had some free time to socialize before the testing began. Morty planned to take this time to nap, but was caught by Patty on his way out.

“Morty? Aren’t you going to stay and chat?”

“No, I thought I’d get some shut eye before the barrage of tests they throw at us.”

“Well that’s a good a idea. I should do the same, I’m just so excited.”

“I know how you feel. But I’ll see you later. We’ll have dinner after we’re done, how’s that?”

“Oh that sounds lovely.”

Morty smiled and returned to his room. He had just closed his eyes when the communicator next to his bed beeped. A slap of his hand answered it. “Yes?”

“Just reminding you that your first appointment is in 15 minutes,” came the male voice on the other end.

“15 minutes?” He looked at the clock on the wall. He’d been asleep for almost two hours. “Okay, thanks, I’ll be there.” The com flicked off and he rolled out of bed. Won’t have to deal with this too much longer. He sat up in bed, but found he had done it too quickly. The blood rushing from his head was too fast and he felt dizzy; his vision began to blur and fade. Oh no, he thought, not again. His heart began to pound. This had happened to him a few years ago. He’d gone to the hospital with a minor heart attack. I’m so close. He held his chest and tried to keep breathing. He fell down to the floor and laid there breathing hard and holding his chest. Keep it together. Keep it together, old man. Slowly, his respirations slowed and his vision returned. He laid out on the floor looking up at the ceiling. He knew he couldn’t get up. If he did, he would go through the same thing again. He just laid there. He was able to lift his hand and hit the com.

“Yes,” came Sophie’s voice after a moment.

“Can you let them know I’ll be a little late to my appointment?”

“Certainly. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine, I’m just running a little late.”

“Alright, Morty, I’ll let them know.”

“Thanks.” He clicked off the com and continued laying on the ground for another thirty minutes.

When he finally made it to the appointment, he felt much better. A man in a white coat met him at the door and invited him in. “My name’s Doctor Spicer, I’ll be your primary care physician for the remainder of your stay here at Central.”

“I’m Morty.”

He directed Morty to take off his clothes, put on a scrub gown and sit down on a warm table. He examined Morty head to toe: scalp, eyes, ears, mouth, breath pressure, blood pressure, strength, heart, oxygen saturation, knee joint automation, turn and cough, the slippery finger, blood test, vision test, smell test, nerve test, and various other tests and examinations. After Morty felt thoroughly violated, Dr. Spicer said it was time for the tube scan. Morty didn’t like this scan. He’d had to do one of his head in his 30s when a payload had fallen on him. That alone was uncomfortable, but this would be his entire body. The MicroCellular Magnetic Resonance Relative Imager, MCMRRI, or commonly know as the “Tube scan” because of the large tube a person is put into in order to achieve the resulting image, produces a three dimensional image of any section or the body in its entirety much like the earlier versions of MRI’s. It uses magnetic resonance to shift the rotations of all the molecules in the body so that they all reflect light in the same direction. This allows the scanner’s sensors to move the magnetic plane across the body and get the resulting image of the inner workings of the body on a three dimension scale. The MCMRRI, however is much more advanced and can zoom in to a level of cellular detail, allowing physicians to see the workings of each cell of the body, which makes it possible to run test algorithms on how the body might react to certain medications or stimuli based on the function of each cell. In essence, the tube scan creates a virtual representation of the subject being scanned. Because of the level of detail and accuracy needed for the tube scan to function, the subject must remain in the tube for hours, almost completely motionless in order to get an accurate scan.

“Would you like a sedative or anything?” asked Dr. Spicer.

“Yes, please.”

Dr. Spicer gave Morty a mild sedative and laid him down on the table. A light and soothing symphony came on over the speakers and Morty closed his eyes and tried to relax himself as the table slid gently into the tube. Morty kept his eyes closed. He knew the tube was surrounding him, a mere few inches from his face, but if he didn’t open his eyes, he’d be okay.

“How are you doing?” came Dr. Spicer’s comforting voice over the intercom.

“I’m alright,” Morty lied.

“Okay, now try not to move; go to sleep if you want. I just need you to be absolutely still.”

Morty was starting to regret the nap he’d taken earlier. He stared at the backs of his eyelids and wondered what it would be like to be young again. Would he feel the unstoppable energy he remembered from his youth? Would he feel just as immortal as he had felt back then? Only one way to find out: lie still.

Everyone filed into the large reception hall which now had rowed seats instead of tables in it. Morty found his table mates in a row and sat with them, chatting quietly before the meeting began. Sophie walked up to the microphone which was standing in front of them next to a podium.

“Good morning everyone. Did you sleep well?”

Various affirmations went through the crowd.

“Good. Today, I’m going to orient all of you on the coming pre and post procedure schedule as well as the procedure itself. There’ll be plenty of time for questions at the end, so please wait until I open the floor up for them before you raise your hand, unless you think it’s one that absolutely can’t wait. I trust you all brought your folders?”

Morty got a flashback of his schooling days and felt very much like he was already 16 again.

“Please open them to the third page which contains the schedule for the next month. Now, as I’m sure you’re aware, giving you your second life in Haven with a brand new body involves moving your brain from your current body to your younger clone, whose genetic code was taken from you at birth. This is a very delicate procedure which takes an entire day. You’ll notice that each of you have different appointments and recovery schedules, so each packet will be a little bit different based on your physical condition and needs. Today, we’ll start your pre-op schedule which includes a full body tube scan as well as a physical.”

Bob raised his hand.

“Yes, Robert?”

“Why do we need a physical if we’re not going to be using these bodies anymore?”

“What’s going on in the whole body can affect the brain. We just want to be thorough. For instance, if we see a clogged artery in one part of the body, we’ll have a better sense of where to look at the brain in more detail for problems.”

She paused to be sure that answered his question and then continued, “You’ll also be subject to a psychological examination and mental preparation which includes meditation sessions and exercise. I healthy mind leads to a healthy body and vice versa. After this meeting, during lunch, I’ll go over with each of you individually your personal body choices and preferred lifestyle in Haven just to make sure that what you filled out in your original One-Two form is still what you desire.

“As for the actual procedure, we’re going to put you out of course, but don’t worry, our anesthesiologists know what they’re doing. You won’t feel a thing, but you will be a bit groggy and disoriented when you wake up. You’ll notice the differences within a few hours and will be able to move more easily and without all the creaks and cracks of your current bodies.”

A quiet laughter rolled through the room.

“However, we urge you not to get up or try to walk for at least 24 hours just to make sure that there are no complications.”

A woman raised her hand and Sophie called on her. “What sort of complications could their be?”

“We do our best to predict how your brain might react to the transition but we’re not always flawless, so complications can occur. However, I assure you that serious complications only occur in 2% of all patients. Such complications could be brain tumors, swelling in the brain tissue, neuron enlargement due to stress, substantial loss of blood flow to one or more areas of the brain, or at the worst, lack of neurological synaptic firing. These are among the worst possibilities, but are rare and completely treatable. All of these complications and others are outlined in your packets.

Furthermore, you’ll notice in your schedules time blocked out for ‘additional procedures as needed.’ These are not only for possible complications, but are more often used for cosmetic procedures if you are not satisfied with your physical features or never want to shave your legs again ladies. You can of course also do this later once in the White City.”

Felicia whispered to Patty that she had heard women in Haven don’t have any leg hair or arm hair. Patty looked at her astonished, “Really?” She brushed her hand across her hairy arm pits through her shirt. “Wonder what that feels like,” she whispered to herself.

The next few hours were dedicated to a detailed walk through of the procedure and how it works. They even viewed slides projected onto a drop down screen which showed stills of the actual procedure. Some had to leave to get a breath of air since some of the slides were quite graphic. Sophie explained how the surgeons went about cutting the spinal cord just below the lower brain stem before cutting off the circulation to the brain and quickly transferring it to the new body which has already been prepared. The inside of the cranium as well as the transferred brain are covered with a tissue building cream before the brain is set in the cavity. This encourages the growth of blood vessels and connective tissue, making the time the brain is without blood flow minimal. The brain stem is then attached to the new spinal cord via the enzyme dendriphytase. The discovery of this enzyme over two hundred years ago is what made the procedure and ultimately the entire Ones and Twos System of Productivity possible.

Even though the exposure of the brain is very brief and under sterile conditions, it’s still quite traumatic for the tissue which has never otherwise been exposed to the outside world. Because of this, it will swell and bruise in spots. Anti-inflammatories and pain killers are given to keep you relatively comfortable when you wake up.

A man raised his hand and Sophie called on him. “How come we only do this once? Why can’t we keep switching our brains to new bodies?”

“A good question. As I’ve already made clear, the procedure for the brain is quite traumatic and although such experiments have been successful in the past on ideal patients, the success rate is exponentially lower each time you transfer the brain and too risky to perform again on most people, besides your brain does age and after a time, it’s systems, just like those of the rest of your body will decay and shut down.”

“But why not? If you’ve got nothing else to lose? Why not give it a shot?”

“I must emphasize again the difficulties which go along with performing the procedure a second time are immense, but even if the success rate were slightly higher, since it cannot be performed on everyone, it is not allowed in the Ones and Twos System. For a fair and balanced set of lives, performing the procedure once should be sufficient.”

“Yeah,” said a man next to him who smiled and elbowed him, “Be happy with two lives, brother.”

The other man smiled back, satisfied with the response.

Joe raised his hand. “Yes Joe?” Sophie said.

“This is something I’ve always wondered since my original genome evaluation 16 years ago. Since we can clone healthy, strong people, why don’t we just clone an army of workers to do all the work.?”

“Well, that’s in essence what we’ve done. You are that army. But as with any army, your productivity is only as good as your morale, so it behooves us all to keep you happy in everyday life, but especially in the next life. With the fact of a better life, you are kept satisfied and working so that later on you can enjoy the fruits of your labors as a new army works for you. That is the basis of the Ones and Twos System.

After you leave here and your procedures are all successful, you will be taken to the gateway of the White City where you’ll be further briefed on your opportunities in your new life.”

Morty raised his hand. “Are there other cities besides the White City?”

“Oh my yes, all over the world.” Chuckling went through the room at such an odd question.

“Are there other Processing stations like this one?”

“Of course.”

“Well who runs all of that?” The room went silent. None of them knew the answer to this question.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, is there a manager of world activities or…” His sentence trailed off in the hope she would finish it.

“That’s a complicated matter and one best left to explain in the White City. We have much to keep our minds on while here at Central Processing. Let’s focus on keeping you well and into your new body before we talk about your new life.”

Morty nodded.

They broke for lunch and as they ate were called into a private room with Sophie to discuss their genetic and lifestyle profiles. Morty entered the room and sat down in the extremely comfortable chair across a desk from where Sophie was sitting.

“Now,” she began, “Let’s first go over the genetic choices you made 16 years ago when your genome was devitrified and your clone was created. You said you wanted an athletic body, increased intelligence, and all the usual disease preventive measures. But no changes to features or any other attributes, is that correct?”

“Yes, that is correct.”

“At this point, you can’t change any of the genetic attributes of your clone, but if you did want to make some change, we can reclone as long as we know we can keep you alive for another 16 years.”

“No no, that’s fine, I’ve waited long enough. I don’t want to wait another 16 years just to change my hair color.”

She laughed, “Alright then. What lifestyle options would you like to pursue?”

He had looked over the choice packet during lunch and circled those things that interested him in red. He handed the packet to her.

“Great. Let’s see… travel, adventure, sailing, modest accommodations. Modest?” She looked at him.

“Yeah, I don’t really need much.”

“Well you’re a far more humble person then I.”

He smiled. He’d always prided himself on being humble, if that made any sense.

“Alright, I think I have enough to work with here. I’ll put together an initial lifestyle profile for your review and you’ll have it in a couple of days.”

“Thanks,” he said rising from his chair. “That was easy.”

“We try to make the process as simple as possible. Can you please send in Hannah Cole when you get out there?”

“Sure.”

He woke up naturally at 0500 just as he had for most of his life. He flipped on the com at the inn-table next to the bed. He dialed the control station to see where his next delivery would be when he heard the violins still playing. He realized where he was and clicked the com off. It was obviously going to take a while to get used to not going to work. He got up and changed the station to more fast paced rock and roll, at least that’s what the channel label said. He didn’t know much about music, he just knew what he liked.

He took his clothes off and put them by the door to take to the laundry chute. He was about to jump in the shower when he got a knock on his door. It was Patty. He cracked the door and asked what she needed.

“I was wondering if it would be okay to take a shower with you. I’ve never taken a shower alone before and that stall is much to big for just me,” she said.

He smiled understandingly. “Sure, come on in.” He opened the door the rest of the way and walked back to the shower.

Patty looked around as she took her clothes off. “Your room as pretty similar to mine.”

“At least that makes getting around easier,” he said, opening the shower door.

She through her clothes on top of his and stepped into the warm water. “Oooh, it’s so nice.”

“I know, they spared no expense here.”

They showered together and helped wash those hard to get places. When you get older, there seem to be more and more hard to get places. They dried off and Patty thanked him for understanding. She wrapped the towel around her and bent to pick up her clothes.

“Don’t worry about those, I’ll take care of them,” he said before she could get to them. She thanked him again and walked back to her room to get dressed.

Morty put on some new clothes. This time he decided on a grey shirt with a blue vest and blue baggy pants. He looked in the mirror and thought he looked pretty spiffy. He looked at the clock, 0615. Forty five minutes. What am I going to do in the mean time? he thought to himself. He sat back on the bed and opened the folder. He noticed the blue leaflet Sophie had mentioned the night before. It was divided in sections, one said, “Laundry.” He read it and found that he didn’t need to take his clothes to the laundry chute. Someone would be in to collect his dirty clothes while he was gone during the day and replace them with clean ones. They would also take care of the bed and bath supplies. He was astonished. If this was anything like how his new life would be, he could see himself becoming spoiled really quickly.

He flipped to the packet behind it which he had been looking through the night before. The first page was a typical welcome letter. “Congratulations Mortimus Walker and thank you for your years of excellent service to the people of Earth…” yadda yadda yadda. He kept flipping through and noticed a schedule which covered a little more then a month of preparations, procedures, and rehabilitation work outs. Today’s scheduled items were “Familiarization Meeting” and “Begin Initial Testing and Scanning Process.”

He flipped through the coming weeks to find his procedure date. It wasn’t too far off. He pointed to the date and thought, On that day, they’ll be taking my brain out of my head and putting it into a younger body. Weird. But efficient. The weeks after that were dedicated to exercise and observation, making room for possible “extra procedures as needed.” He didn’t really like the sound of that, but it wasn’t for too long and then he’d be in the White City. Besides, it wasn’t like his current accommodations were all that bad.

The rest of the packet was devoted mainly to the details of the procedure and what was expected of the patients. The patients were first and foremost expected to stay happy, anxiety free, and without worry. There were even going to be mandatory meditation classes before the procedure.

“A serene and calm mind affects the actual condition of the brain and makes it less susceptible to irritation, inflammation, and infection through the surgery,” it said. “By remaining happy and calm, clearing your mind of all worries, the transition will go much more smoothly and without complication. Patients will of course be sedated during the procedure but studies have shown that a longer phase of serenity before surgery produces better results post operation.”

Sounds simple enough, Morty thought. I just have to sit back and relax and I’ll breeze through this thing.

After the surgery, there would be a lot of rehabilitation including brain scans, MCMRRI’s, work out sessions, and psychological exams. Morty could see it was going to be a rough few weeks, but he was ready for it. He’d been ready for it his whole life and now it was finally upon him.

He flipped to the last calendar date which was a little over a month away. “Earliest Discharge Date,” it read, followed by the next day which was, “Depart for the White City.”

Morty sighed. So close.

After dinner, Sophie stood up and said, “I hope you all enjoyed your dinners.” There was a mixture of elation and stuffed groans as everyone rubbed their stomachs. “I’m sure you all must be quite tired. It’s been a long day. Get some sleep tonight and look over that folder if you can. There’s a little blue leaflet inside that will help you out with your day to day comings and goings in this facility. We’ll be going over that and the rest of its contents in further detail first thing tomorrow morning. Please meet back here at 0700.”

“Can we ask questions now?” asked Joe.

“Certainly, my ear is always open, but I assure you most of the questions you have will be answered in tomorrow’s meeting.”

“Well, I was just wondering if you have anything that needs fixing.”

“Fixing?”

“Yeah, when I get nervous, it feels better if I fix something.”

Sophie chuckled. “Well I don’t have anything for you to fix, but in your room, you’ll find tons of video games to play which I think will salve your need for productivity for now.”

“Okay.” He sunk back down in his seat.

“Now, if there are no other questions, I wish you all a goodnight and I’ll see you at 0700 bright and early.”

Everyone began to slowly get up and wander off back to their rooms.

“Are you going to sleep?” asked Patty.

“I think I’m gonna try to look over that folder, but I’m pretty tired,” replied Morty yawning.

“Oh, okay then. See you in the morning.”

“Night Patty.”

“Night.”

He closed the door of his room and realized how quiet it was. No city noise, no thumping of footsteps above. Almost too quiet. He turned the television on in the room to see what the latest prod-reel was. But there was no Productivity Reel to keep him abreast of the city’s pace. There was a menu however with options like games, music, movies. He clicked on music and found a channel playing a symphony with violins. It was so smooth and sultry. He grabbed the folder and laid down on his bed. He attempted to flip through the pages of text and diagrams but found the music’s lulling power taking control. The coinciding food coma from dinner didn’t help any and he soon passed out.

The water was cool and warm on Morty’s skin all at the same time. His room was ten times the size of his old place with a couch, a huge bed, and even an entertainment center with games he could play. The bathroom itself was even bigger then his old quarters and he took the longest shower he’d ever taken in his life as though the water could magically wash away 60 years of bodily damage.

Opening his closet, he found a whole room with racks of clothes he could wear. He was overwhelmed. He chose a yellow jumpsuit with black vertical stripes not too dissimilar from his work clothes, but it was comfortable and felt familiar in this splendid but strange place. He looked at the clock on the wall, 19:45. He walked outside to find some others coming out of their rooms as well. A woman came out of the room next to his and asked him, “Don’t suppose you remember how to get back do you?”

He laughed, “I think I remember the way. Follow me.”

“Oh thank you.” She took his arm and walked with him. “Mine name’s Patty, what’s yours?”

“Morty.”

“Pleased to meet you Morty.” Patty was a shorter woman with very few teeth and a body resembling that of a pumpkin. She wasn’t attractive by any scale, but she had a sparkle in her eye. It was those tiny details that Morty had come to notice and appreciate in his old age.

“Pleased to meet you too, Patty.”

They walked to the front desk as others were funneling in. Sophie appeared and began to speak. “I think we’re all here. I’ll just do a roll call really quick to make sure.” She shouted out people’s names and they responded with, “here” or “aye” and raised their hand. “Okay then, everyone’s accounted for. Look around you folks. These are your birthmates. You’ll be spending the next month or so together helping each other recover and transition into your new lives. Many birthmates go on to be life long friends, and even lovers. Tonight, we’re going to get to know each other better over a little grub. Follow me please.” They walked down the hall to a large reception room with tables. “Take a seat wherever you like.”

The tables were adorned with nice table cloths, napkins, beautifully crafted utensils and place settings. There were candles and carnations in each table center. Everyone “oohed” and “aahed” as they sat themselves. Patty sat next to Morty and others sat around them at the circular 5 person table.

“In front of you, you’ll find menus. That’s right, you can choose whatever food you want. And don’t worry about protein intake, nutrient balancing, or calorie counting, you won’t have these bodies for too much longer so feel free to indulge in whatever you desire. Granted don’t make yourselves sick though.” Everyone chuckled. “The servo will be with you shortly.”

Morty perused the menu and didn’t recognize some of the things on it. “Filet Mignon? What the hell is that?”

“It’s a chicken filet I think,” said a man at the table behind him. “I worked at the foreign embassy and I know mignon is French for chicken.”

“Well why don’t they just write it in English?”

“Supposed to make it classy I guess.”

Morty humphed.

He saw a menu option that said Parmesan Salmon. He loved salmon and had parmesan a few times, so he decided to get that. “What are you getting?” he asked Patty.

“I don’t know. I was thinking the chocolate brownie sundae. Do you think that would be okay?”

“I don’t see why not, she said get what you want.”

“Oh this is going to be wonderful. I had a brownie a couple times many years ago when a neighbor who was a baker made some for me. Oh, they were so good.”

Sophie must’ve overheard the comment because she stood up and said, “Order what you want, but there will be a few courses. If you think you can eat it all, I recommend ordering one thing from the appetizers, one thing from the entrees, and one thing from the dessert menu.”

“One of each?” a man yelled out flabbergasted.

“Of course.”

The room was in delightful shock and they returned to their menus to look everything over more carefully. A few minutes later, a robotic cart with a screen on top began rolling from table to table. When it arrived to Morty, it said, “Please swipe your card if you are ready to order.” Morty did so and the menu popped up on the screen. “Please select the items you would like to order and press ‘Confirm’.” He chose the spinach artichoke dip, the parmesan salmon, and had agreed to split a brownie sundae with Patty. After pushing confirm, the computer said, “Thank you,” and rolled on to the next person.

As the night progressed, Morty talked with everyone at the table and other tables and found that they were all from quite different professions; everything from sewage treatment to financial management. Bob was a big man who worked in construction. Joe had been an engineer for automatic laundry servos. Patty was an analyst for the Productivity Center. Felicia worked in the law enforcement field as an exosuit operator, and later became an engineer for maintenance of the suits. They were all from different parts of the city.

“Hey, do you think there are more processing places like this around the world?” asked Bob.

“There’d have to be,” Felicia said. “They can’t all go through here, besides, we’re all from the same place. They’re probably localized.”

“There’s so much I don’t know about the world,” said Morty.

“I know, it’ll be amazing to see everything,” said Patty.

“But what if we get bored?” asked Joe, who had until then been rather quiet.

“What do you mean?” asked Patty.

“Well, I mean, we can have anything we want. What is there to work towards now?”

“Heh, engineers,” said Bob. “Always gotta have a problem to solve huh?”

“I’m sure they’ll accommodate you somehow,” said Patty.

“Yeah, I’ve actually heard of scientists who enjoy their work so much that they continue to do it even when they become One-Twos.”

“Really?”

Morty nodded. Joe seemed satisfied with this answer and eased up a little bit. Their appetizers had already come and everyone was sharing and enjoying foods most of them had never tasted.

Two weeks later, the day had finally come. Morty went to work and tried to focus on his duties, but was too excited about what would happen that afternoon. His coworkers surprised him with a card wishing him a farewell and he told them all to look him up when they got to the other side. When he finished work, he walked outside and a man in a suit was waiting for him in front of a government car.

“Mortimus Walker?” he asked with a smile.

“That’s me,” Morty replied happily.

“Hello, my name’s Jim Folson.” He shook his hand and Morty noticed he was a Two-One. The man motioned him into the vehicle “If you could please swipe your card here, sir. Thank you.” After swiping his card, the screen came up with his picture and details. “And put your thumb here and “Congratulations sir, it’s time for retirement.” He motioned Morty into the vehicle.

Once they were both inside, Morty asked, “Where are we going now?”

Jim grabbed a folder from his briefcase and handed it to Morty. “This is your itinerary for the next few weeks. It’s a detailed schedule of your transition into Haven. There is a little leeway given for possible complications.”

“Complications?”

“Well, the transference of a brain from one body to another is a delicate process and requires a couple of weeks of rehabilitation, getting used to your new body, making sure all the neurons connected properly and every part of the brain has ample blood flow.”

“But it won’t really be a new body will it? It’ll be my body but younger.”

“That is correct. The husk is in a containment chamber ready and waiting for transfer.”

“Husk?”

“That’s what we call host clones. They’re genetically manipulated to grow with minimal brain function; just enough to keep the body running. And when we transfer your brain into it, it’ll need just as much time getting used to you as you will need getting used to it.”

“But I’ll still be me, right? I mean my memories, my personality?”

“That’s correct. That’s why we transfer the entire brain. The chemical processes which go on in the brain to create memories are so complex, it is beyond our science to transfer memories from one host to another without actually removing the entire brain. Besides, this way, we don’t have to worry about the moral implications of using a sentient clone host. It’s all right there in your packet with your schedule. I’d suggest looking over that before you go to bed tonight.”

Morty nodded and looked down at the folder. It was white with his name printed on it in flashy blue letters.

“In the meantime, I’ve got something else I’d like to show you.” The PTU stopped and they got out of the car. Morty knew where they were. It was the elevator to the upper city, the White City, Haven. He had passed it many times before and even swiped his card a few times praying that it might malfunction and let him through. But this time it wouldn’t deny him. This time he’d get through. They walked to the front entrance and Jim looked to Morty and said, “Am I to understand there is nothing you want to retrieve from your apartment?”

“You’re gonna give me everything I need when I get up there right?”

“Of course, but some people like to bring certain items for sentimental value.”

“Naw, ain’t nothin’ in there I wouldn’t be more then happy to forget.”

“Heh, alright then, please swipe your card.”

Morty held his card above the scanner, his hand was shaking as he slowly slid it through. The light turned green and the common voice tone, “Enter” affirmed his excitement. His heart was pounding and he suddenly realized he hadn’t been breathing. He leaned against the wall.

“Whoa, easy there Mr. Walker. Just take a few breaths. Wouldn’t want you dying on me so close to freedom.”

Morty let out a grunted laugh, wouldn’t that be tragically ironic.

The door opened and he walked in. There was a crowd of people inside. “Who are they?” he asked.

“I’ll give you a hint, you all have one thing in common.”

“Today’s our birthday,” Morty said with a smirk.

“You got it.” Jim led him to a short line of people in front of a group of elevator doors. “You’ll have to fill out some forms and switch cards, but first, you’re going to take a peek at where you’re going.”

Morty could hardly contain himself. He could feel the energy in the room. Everyone there was just as excited as he was. It looked like everyone had their own personal escort just like him. They were standing in their clean suits next to their dirty clients who had apparently all just gotten off of work. A light above one door came on with a ding and the doors began to open. Excited conversation rose up out of the crowd and a tall man stepped forward out of the elevator speaking loudly, “Please remain calm, you’ll all get up there, but we need to do this in an orderly fashion. If I could have 20 birthdays step forward please.”

The Ones began to step forward as their appointed escorts walked away. Morty looked to Jim who said, “This is where I leave you. There are still more birthdays to get out there. You have your packet?” Morty held it up. “Don’t lose it, it has all your forms in it. Listen to what the lift man tells you and go straight to processing. The faster you get there, the quicker you can start your transition. Good luck.”

“Thanks!” Jim walked off with the rest of the suits and Morty entered the elevator with the others. It was a cylindrical lift with tall glass windows on the sides which now showed a concrete wall. As they crowded into the elevator, someone said, “Happy Birthday,” to him and he replied, “Happy Birthday to you.” Then the lift man began to speak.

“Welcome everyone and happy 60^th birthday to you all. This is the last time you will ever have to see the lower city. I’ll be taking you to Upper Processing where you’ll reside for the next few weeks as you undergo your transition. From there you’ll enter the White City which you’ll be able to see in a few moments.” He pushed a button on the side of the elevator and it began to rise. The concrete wall moved down and down and down until it disappeared and the mechanical spread of the city sprawled out underneath them. Morty had never seen the city from this vantage and had not realized the sheer number of tubes and overpasses and PTUs that network where he once lived.

Someone said, “I can see my quarters from here.” Everyone laughed. “They’re not your quarters anymore,” said someone else.

“We’re rising at about 100 feet per minute now and we’ll keep accelerating until we get to the smog,” said the lift man.

Everyone looked up to see the ceiling of moving grey which had always been their sky except on those precious days when the sun would break through. Morty had never been outside the city limits. He squinted with his old eyes to try and make out the end of the vast metropolis, but before he knew it, the window went dark.

“And this is what you’ve all looked out on everyday of your lives,” the lift man continued. “This blanket of pollutants and toxic gasses used to cover the entire Earth many centuries ago until we’d almost wiped ourselves out. That’s when the Ones and Twos System of Productivity arose to make things more efficient, cleaner, and still allow human beings to live happy and prosperous lives.” He paused. “What you’re about to see is where you’ll be spending your next life as a reward for your services rendered to Central and to all the people of the Earth.” Just as he finished, the darkness lifted to reveal a bright light of which the group had never seen. A gasp went through the elevator car as their eyes attempted to adjust to the now setting sun. The polarizing windows darkened to allow the wide pupiled onlookers to see clearly. The site was breath taking. The smog from the top did not look like smog at all, but an endless field of rolling puffy white clouds; like cotton balls pulled apart and thrown to the ground. In the distance, miles away, shooting up out of the intangible blanket was a towering white structure glistening in the orange sunlight just to the left of the setting sun.

“The White City,” Morty whispered.

“That’s right,” said the lift man. “The White City stands 10,000ft above sea level and from the base of it’s rim, it’s 5 miles across and 8 miles high to the tip of the White Palace. It was built two hundred years ago and has withstood the test of time. It holds 500,000 people who live, play, and do whatever they want. This is where you will begin your new life post-transition. We recommend that you stay here at least for the first year to acclimate yourself to your new life and make sure that there are no far reaching complications with your transition. The surgeons are the very best and in the last decade, we’ve only had 2% of all patients with serious complications all of which fully recovered.”

Morty could see floating transport ships going back and forth from above them to the White City. “Above, you can see the commuters to the White City. In a few weeks, you’ll be on one of those vessels ready to begin your new life. Right now, we’re going to Central Processing where you will receive instruction on when your procedure is to take place and what you need to do to prepare.” As he said this the elevator began to slow and the beautiful view turned into cold concrete again. Finally, it stopped with a ding and the doors opened to a large, pristine white room. Everyone stepped out slowly, eyes wandering all around. A woman in a red suit jacket and skirt waved them onward. “This way please.”

She guided them to the front desk where a short fat man sat behind a computer screen. He got up from his seat to stand but was only a few inches taller then when he was sitting. “Welcome everyone to Haven’s Central Processing,” he said in a surprisingly loud voice. “If you could please swipe your cards at the desk, you’ll be issued new cards which you’ll keep until you leave Processing for the White City.”

Everyone formed a line, as they were used to doing, and in turn swiped their card at the desk, gave it to the small clerk and he gave them a new card in return. Morty took out his worn out old yellow card and looked it over. He’d had it all his life. It was faded in spots and had dirt engrained in it, scars of the past, he thought. It was thick and solid, very utilitarian. He swiped it the last time and handed it to the clerk. His new card was grey, but had the same basic information layout and feel as his last card. He stepped to the side with the others.

The woman in red stood in front of everyone moving her hands as she spoke. “Everyone have their cards? Don’t forget your folders. If everyone will follow me, I’ll take you to your temporary quarters for your short stay here. Pay attention to where we’re going, cause after you all get cleaned up and dressed, we’ll meet back here for the meet and greet and dinner at 20:00. If you get lost or have any questions, my name is Sophie, just swipe your card on any of these wall readers and it’ll page my phone.” She pointed to the earpiece in her ear off of which a tiny microphone needled. She spoke somehow without ever breaking out of her smile. Even when she made “o” or “u” sounds, she was still smiling.

She turned and walked down the hall. Everyone followed chattering to each other and looking around. Sophie continued to talk, “Each one of you will have your own room with your own bathroom and shower.”

Chattering rose in the group, “…own bathroom and shower?” “How fancy.” “I’ve never taken a shower alone before.”

Sophie continued, used to the surprise, “You’ll find clothes in your closet which fit perfectly. Just pick whatever you want, this is an informal occasion, and return to the main arrival desk at 20:00. You’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other better then. And this is your corridor. If you’ll look on your cards, you’ll find a room number. Just find the corresponding room to your number and swipe your card. Again, if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to call. Leave your folders in your rooms when you come to dinner and I’ll see you all again in a little while.” With that she left back the way she came and people slowly meandered down the hall looking for their room numbers.

After the drink with his friend, the last drink they’d ever have together, Morty returned home. He wanted to take a shower and get to bed. He still had to get up early for work the next morning. He swiped his card outside the dingy apartment complex and walked up two flights of stairs and down the hall. He swiped his card at his door and it slid open. His apartment was ten feet long, five feet wide, and seven feet tall. It had one bed against a side wall, a rack with some clothes hung on it, and a pile of clutter in one corner of the room. Morty stripped his clothes off and grabbed his towel that was hanging on the rack and wrapped it around his waist. He took his clothes down the hall to the laundry chute and threw them in. Then he walked to the end of the hall where the community bathroom was and into the open shower. Debbie, his 55 year old next door neighbor was already taking a shower and she said hi as he walked in.

“Hey Deb, how’s the water?”

“Nice tonight, looks like they fixed the water heater.”

“Finally.”

“I know.”

Morty hung his towel at the door and walked to the shower head nearest Debbie and turned it on. There was a time, when the site of her wet naked body would’ve aroused Morty, even though she was sagging a bit these days, but his little soldier had long since been discharged. Tonight, however, he was feeling pretty good. His body was flowing with endorphins over his coming ascension and apparently, little Willie felt it too.

Debbie also noticed. “Hey there Mort, are we gonna have to file a report again?” she said smiling at him.

Whenever Ones or Two-Ones have sex, they are required by Law to report it to Central Processing. Even though all Ones and Two-Ones are born sterile, except for those born as breeders, there is still a fear of spreading STDs in the working population. If you don’t report all sexual relations, then you forfeit any treatment Central can provide and if you catch a seriously contagious disease, you might even be neutralized. That’s a computer’s way of saying executed.

“Hehe, well I’m feeling pretty good tonight, Deb I gotta say.” Morty thought about it for a moment and decided why the hell not?

“Really? That good huh? Don’t want you to have a heart attack before you get a new one.”

“Oh you’re worth it Deb,” he grinned.

“Oh Morty, you know just how to lift these old bones don’tcha?”

“And you know how to lift mine,” he said thrusting his member forward so that it shook in front of her.

“Oh my.”

He walked over to her and slid his arms around her naked waist, then pressed himself against her.

She gasped and then whispered, “It’s been so long.”

“Probably longer for me,” he whispered back and then kissed her on the lips. They slowly began to fall to the floor and intertwined themselves right there in the shower. They knew it was against the law, but neither of them had ever been in trouble before and they could get off on good behavior.

Just as Morty entered into her, a man walked into the shower and saw them. “Oap,” he said and walked out yelling, “Just knock on my door when you’re done.” The two laughed to each other.

He took the Public Transit Unit from work to a bar close to his quarters. He was meeting a friend there who was a Two-One. He’d already been on the other side and Morty wanted to know more about what he had to look forward to. Most Two-One’s didn’t like to talk about their old life because they missed it too much. But Dave’s perspective was that he had a good time while it lasted and he was happy to tell anyone else about his many adventures out there.

Dave had been born into a family of Twos and so by law was a Two first so that his parents could maintain the family structure they’d always wanted. He had grown up with all the modern luxuries the world had to offer. His parents had sacrificed their allowance of maids and butlers in order to have him. By the Law of Productivity, if a Two is born, the family must do all the everyday tasks themselves and raise the child full time, but everything is still supplied for them. As an adult, Dave spent most of his time sailing around the world on his square-rigger the Elissa. He enjoyed the outdoors and loved to go on adventures.

Morty had met Dave on one of his deliveries. Dave worked as an international importer/exporter. He arranged all of the buying and selling of domestic products to foreign countries and investors. Since Dave had traveled the globe many times over in his first life, he was well suited for the job in this one.

Morty got out of the PTU as it said, “Have a nice day,” and sped away. He walked towards the entrance when he heard a, “Hey, Morty!” from behind him. He turned to find Dave walking in his direction. Dave had short brown hair and vibrant eyes. He’d only been in the work force for 6 years, so his 22 year old body was getting him around quite well. He always wore faded jeans and today sported a standard issue brown suede jacket on account of the slight chill in the wind today.

“Hey, Dave, how’s it going?”

“Not bad. I had a meeting with a client down the street, so I thought I’d just walk on over.” They shook hands and Morty could see the branding of a Two and then a One surrounded by a box on Dave’s right wrist.

“Don’t they usually supply you with a suit for that sort of thing?” They walked inside and sat down at the bar as they spoke.

“Yeah, but this is an old friend. We sailed together in the Philippines many years ago.”

“Wow, that’s amazing. I’m so jealous.”

“Heh, don’t worry my friend, you’ll get your chance. You just have to ask for it.”

“Is it that simple? I just ask for something and I get it?”

“Pretty much. I mean you have to go through the work of filling out forms and specs based on exactly what you want, but that doesn’t take long. They’ll even hook you up with people who have similar interests to give you a crew or supply you with a working rec crew if you want.”

“Man, that sounds like Heaven.”

“Not too far off, my friend.”

“So who do I ask exactly?”

“Well, when you first get to the White City, they give you a PDA which tracks your location anywhere on the globe and makes available anything you want. You just have to go through the proper interface on it.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, little tip though, read the entire instruction booklet. There are some little tricks to get through the thing easier, like forms it’ll fill out on its own and you can save and stuff like that.”

“Thanks for the tip.”

“Well, that’s what I’m here for.”

“And of course to enjoy good company. Here, let me ration a drink for ya.”

“Hey, I won’t say no to that.”

Morty took out his ID card and swiped it on the scanner next to the bar. The bartender walked over to him and looked at the screen facing him above the bar. “You got 5 drinks left this month, what’ll it be?”

“A barley beer for me and a …” he looked at Dave.

“A vodka-cran for me,” Dave said.

“Comin’ right up.”

“Hey, did you hear about that Two-One that tried to escape termination?” Dave asked.

“What? No.”

“Yeah, apparently she chose termination because she didn’t want to work for the rest of her life. But after she signed the papers and gave her reasons, she changed her mind and ran.”

“What happened?”

“The guards shot her down; right in the park.”

“Man.”

“I know, it’s crazy.”

“Why would you choose termination and then change your mind, it just doesn’t make sense.”

“Well, that’s women for ya right?”

“Hehe, yeah.”

They’re drinks came and Morty took a big gulp of his amber beer. “Who was she?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like what did she do in Haven?”

“Oh, I don’t know, I only heard about it through some newbs at the office.”

“Hmm.”

Dave took a sip of his vodka-cran and let it slide down into his new stomach. “So what are you gonna do on that last day?”

Morty looked at him. “I don’t know. I hadn’t given it much thought. I don’t think there’s much I can do. I guess go to work same as always.”

“You’re not gonna have a party or anything?”

“Who could come? Everyone will be working.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Dave rubbed his neck. “Shoot, when I left Haven, I threw the biggest bash anyone had ever seen. It was fantastic. Oh, that reminds me, there’s this club called Jerking Madonna down on Gold St. You’ve got to check it out when you get up there. It’s amazing. Oh and tell Katrina hi for me if she’s still there.” Dave sighed. “Ah, those were good times.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Sometimes, but then I think about you poor blokes who haven’t even had that slice of Heaven. No, I had my run. It’s time for me to give back what I took and then die in peace. I think when I get too old to do this job, I’ll ask for reassignment as a teacher; teach some skill. I think that could be fun.”

“Well you’ve got to enjoy your work. That’s rule number one. Even the Processors know that.”

Dave raised his drink. “Here’s to enjoying what you do.”

“Cheers to that.”

They clinked their glasses together and swallowed down the last of the contents.

Morty walked with a limp. His back ached from carrying large boxes from truck to palette and from palette to truck. He’d been working as a loader, mover, builder, or anything involving transporting large objects from one place to another for his entire life. He hadn’t taken a sick day in 25 years. He took pride in his work, but he was getting up there in years. 60, has it really been that long? he thought to himself.

But it didn’t matter. His birthday was in two weeks. He looked down at the brand on his right wrist. It had the number one with a box around it. He sighed. Soon, it would all be over, and he’d be in Haven. He looked up to the towering skyscrapers. He couldn’t see to the top of them because of the plumes of smog still covering the lower city, but he knew somewhere up there was a shining white palace. A giant house awaited him, with a swimming pool and maybe he’d even find someone with whom it was worth growing old again. She’d have to be from Sector One though. Morty didn’t think he could deal with those spoiled Twos for too long. But he wouldn’t have to. He could live wherever and however he wanted.

“Hey Morty, what’s da hold up der?” came the voice of his foreman standing over the railing.

“Sorry, boss. I wandered off for a second.” He limped back over to the truck and took another box.

His foreman smiled. “I know der man, you only gots two more weeks left. But let’s make dems productive ones right? You don’t want to get up der and be missing an olive in your martini now do yas?

Morty laughed. His foreman was a good man and good at his job. That must’ve been why they appointed it to him. The genetic profiler was hardly ever wrong. But there were some cases. That’s why you had to go back every five years, to make sure you were in the position which was most optimal based on your genetic profile. Machines don’t lie, they calculate. And they run basically everything these days. They’re what allow the human population to be as productive as possible.

When Morty would go to Central Processing to update his genetic profile, he always had a lot of respect for the engineers that worked there. One of their great ancestors probably came up with the Ones and Twos System of Productivity which had allowed human beings to thrive for hundreds of years, all while living happy lives and reducing the Earth’s pollution.

He had heard that most scientists who grow up as Ones actually keep the same job when they become One-Twos because they enjoy it so much. Morty couldn’t understand that. He definitely didn’t enjoy moving stuff so much to do it for his second life, but it did suit him. He couldn’t see himself doing anything else. He knew he wasn’t a smart person, but he was a strong person. Well, he was before his bum leg. But none of that mattered anymore. He’d get a whole new life in two weeks and he knew exactly what he was going to do: nothin’. He sat another box down on the palette and looked at the label, “This side UP.” That’s right. Moving UP in the world.

*THAT’S ALL FOR NOW, THERE WILL BE A NEW CHAPTER EVERY WEEK*