Dirty Creatures

‘I am beneath you. My life is an extension of yours. I have no free will.’ - Creature mantra

It’s frustrating when your enemies are way more powerful. That’s how it feels to be one of these new hybrid creatures, bred for submission. It started with cannibalism. When capitalism destroyed biodiversity, we began eating human flesh. Some called us savages, but we feasted on their bones. Thus began the era of the man-eaters. * Taming the livestock was simple: the reformation generations specialised in neurosciences. It soon became normal to own livestock, and to harvest them. Then, after a century or two, people started wanting different flavours and new textures. It wasn’t just food that people felt the lack of without animals; soon, biodiversity was on the tip of everyone’s tongues again. However, in all the savagery, we preserved very few genetic codes of those noble, ancient species (some of which pre-dated bipedal apes). Much of what we had was theoretical; hazy. Revolutions have been built on less. * There was one genome we knew very well: our own. Hence these new hybrids: combinations of modified human genomes spliced alongside educated guesses by machine learning that allow us to fill in the blanks from the sacred manuscripts and viddy films. The 34th Century was certainly shaping up to be an interesting one. * I mentioned that it wasn’t only meat people were missing; they missed companionship. Even dogs and cats hadn’t survived the dark years. Some of these comfort models were almost indistinguishable from humans - to the naked eye, at least - but they were bred to believe themselves animals from birth. They grew up much more quickly than the pure humans, but they also died younger. The marketing campaigns took great pains to dehumanise these strange new pets, emphasising that even 0.3% of DNA difference was enough to make a human into a chimp. Some were 60% animal DNA; some were 30%; some were 3% - it was up to the owner. One thing was for sure, though: the owner was always in charge.

* Selective breeding wasn’t just for animals (or creatures, as we call them). Humans had become increasingly more exotic, with selective breeding producing variations that resembled the patupaiarehe or psychedelic machine elves of ancient stories. Pure humans were very rare; they ran everything, though. Those stuffed shirts were the imperialist descendants of the initial scientists that had created this brave new world. It was hard to feel sorry for them; their cloistered lives were pathetic and shallow. She wondered if they’d ever considered jumping from their air-conditioned high-rises to feel the authenticity of the streets as they splattered on the pavement?

* Many of the original genetic variations had been born from rebellion and secession: colonising parts of the solar system in order to live lives free from tyranny, although tyranny inevitably ended up migrating with them, ready to franchise new outposts with all the amenities of modern life; the umbilical cord to Mother Earth. * Kay-3 was a comfort model. Kay-1 and Kay-2 had been chestnut brown, but Kay-3 was sleek and black. She was a quasi-feline. 95% Human DNA, but pointed ears and beautiful claws.

She was a cool girl. She knew what her owner wanted. She snuck up on Brad and nestled herself under his arm to rest her head on his chest.

The fur was subtle, about as thick as human hair, partly resembling feline fur and partly abstract art. He didn’t have to ask; she wouldn’t have known how to say no. It all took place in silence. * ‘I know this can’t last forever, Kay, but promise me you’ll outlive 1 and 2.' Kay raised her head to look at his face. 'I don’t know how I’d live without you.’ - Brad. She wasn’t sure whether to reply. He hit her sometimes if she spoke out of turn. Brad was a pureblood. Meaty and muscular: Highland Scots.

‘Kay?’ ‘Do you want me to talk, Brad?’

‘Yes.’ ‘But, sometimes, when you say that, you don’t mean it.’ She touches her face near a previous wound. ‘How old are you?’ ‘You should know.’ ‘Well, I don’t.’

‘I’m 12.’ ‘How long is your projected lifespan?’ ‘They say I’ll be lucky to hit 35.’ She points to an encrusted gem in her hand, flashing a pink glow.

‘Well, that’s a few more years than the previous models.’ ‘How old are you, Bradley?’ Brad considers telling her, but decides to do something else... ZAP! Brad is holding a remote control. Kay-3 is writhing in agony. ZAP!

‘Promise me you’ll survive!’ She shrieks, unable to speak. ZAP! ‘Promise me.’ ZAP! ‘Yes.’ He stops immediately, and moves to comfort her. ‘It’s ok, darling. I know you’ll outlive them.’ Brad strokes her hair as Kay-3 whimpers. This, unsurprisingly, was totally legal. - Kay-3 was tied to Brad. She was microchipped; creatures had limited access to society, usually confined to a certain geographical radius. She’d been brainwashed from birth to be a creature. The chip allowed Brad - and all the other Brad's on this godforsaken planet - to 'correct' their wayward pets. Some creatures were allowed to speak; others weren’t - it wasn’t a question of DNA purity, merely of the liberal nature of some owners. In the colonies, this cruel caste system was antique, as the vegan cult had blitzed the entire livestock/creature debate and replaced creatures and livestock with plant-based alternatives. Mother Earth was built on cannibalism, though. That was how the industrialists survived the fall of Middle Earth. Late-Middle Earth, that’s the new era. The planet is Apokolips.

- 3315/6/20. Kay thought of murdering Brad. Again. Her collar inhibitor produced a mild shock. Kay-3 is exhibiting masochistic tendencies; the sadism of her owner is uniquely vile. - routine surveillance note. - Kay-3 doing the housework. Brad dwells in a penthouse apartment in a large city. The TV is blaring while she uses her tail to vacuum the ceiling. Bruises are visible. ‘We discovered the teachings of the ancient vegans. In digesting that scientific wisdom, combined with the deplorable conditions of our present society, it was difficult for us to escape the conclusion that eating any flesh was essentially the same as eating human flesh, and also that eating human flesh wasn’t such a great idea. Hence our plant revival movement. Millions of seeds survived, and terraforming the outer colonies has become one of the few progressive things that is happening in this century.’’ ‘And what about creatures and livestock?’ ‘You mean other humans?’ ‘Humans?’ ‘You imperialists are such bigoted chauvinists. My wife was once a creature, and she is as human as you or I!’ ‘How pure is she?’ ‘That’s irrelevant.’ ‘How pure?’ ‘30%’ The news broadcaster laughs. ‘30%!’ Someone likes to mate with animals!’ ‘She has a reasoning mind. They all do, beneath that mind control.’ ‘Sure they do. That was the senator of Mars, Dolph-45.’

* Mind control? Kay had never thought of it that way. In her education, she had been taught that it was a noble thing to submit to the will of another born with inalienable advantages. She was raised to be admired and born to please. They’d broken her will, along with taking her maiden flower, before she was allowed to become a companion creature. As a feline, she’d spent countless hours watching existing footage of cats, then being trained to identify with the cats and mimic their tics. She hadn’t even been given a name until Brad had claimed her. She’d been taught to identify with him, subliminally and via Brad’s sadistic shocks. She couldn’t imagine a life without him, but she knew that there was something more for her to be than just a prisoner in a tiny cell, yearning for the man that violates her to arrive. * The TV bulletin was very inspiring, but it was short on details. How had Dolph’s wife been liberated from her creature status? On Earth, there was constant surveillance, and she couldn’t even leave her building without her owner. Perhaps things were more liberal in the colonies… How did they deprogram our brains? Those very pieces of mushy squish that shock us at the first sign of independent thought. How did they free her? Kay had to know. * Brad was comfortable in his glass high-rise office. He crushed it at his job. ‘Sir?’ ‘Yes, Chaucer.’ ‘Do you really intend to outlaw certain types of genetic variation?’ ‘Of course. Any variation cannot be allowed to surpass us. We are alpha and omega.’ ‘Yes, but is it not a sign of intelligence that they are altering their genetic code?’ ‘It is a sign that they’re afraid.’ ‘Of whom?’ ‘Of us. The real humans.’ ‘I think you’re out of step with the times, Bradley.’ ‘But nevertheless it is my decision. We will remove all those freaks and exile them to the outer colonies. I bet Pluto is wonderful this time of year.’ * Kay had met Dashiell-7 on a rare excursion shopping with Brad. His laser eyes had pierced her feline heart. He was a mod. Modified eyes, modified hands, modified chest: he was beautiful. She thought of him, often, though that brief encounter was all they had to remember. She had wished for him to free her, until her handlers shocked her into submission. * Brad entered. It was early in the day. Kay was naked, and quickly moved to cover up. Brad was in a mood. He picked up their coffee table and slammed it down from a height, smashing the glass. ‘Those arrogant idiots!’ ‘What, honey?’ - Kay was afraid, but she tried her best to sound warm. ‘They’ve decided to vote against me.’ ‘Who?’ ‘The other councillors.’ ‘Oh.’ ‘Oh! Is that all you’ve got to say!!’ - Brad was livid. ‘I don’t know what you want me to say; you’re hard to read when you get like this.’ ‘Hard to read! Is this hard to read?’ - He smacked her across the face. ‘Brad, don’t hit me.’ ‘You bitch. You and all your kind. You’re all perverse freaks.’ ‘Brad, I love you.’ ‘Even that’s an illusion. I could give you free will; then we’d see if you loved me.’ Kay was flabbergasted. Free will! That was her fantasy. ‘... Free will?’ It worked. He fell for her fake sincerity! ‘I’ll show you.’ - Brad pressed the remote. Kay’s brain switched on. * 3315/6/27. Kay is given free will. Brad dies 10 minutes later. Claw-marks cover his body. Kay removes the tracking chip. She climbs to the top of the building. Kay commits suicide.