Mad Mitch

By J W Murison

For a thousand years, the establishment has ruled the planet Earth. There are no more countries, no famine, no disease, no wars on terra firma. The eighties, nineties, and hundreds rule the world with an iron fist, while the lower seventies aren’t even aware of their existence. Into this world is born a child whose parents are murdered for challenging the establishment. Scheduled from six years old for assassination, Mad Mitch McIntosh has to fight for every day of his life. Fixed as a forty-eight, Mitch is destined to become a space infantryman. His intellect, courage, and determination becomes a never-ending thorn in the side of the establishment. In the end, they try and exile him on a journey to the stars with a crew from the upper echelons of society, a journey with his natural enemies to colonize a new planet that orbits a far distant sun. The Icarus project is the establishment's last chance to ward off impending starvation from overpopulation. The crew of the Daedalus are in for a nasty surprise when they finally reach the so-called unpopulated world. With Mitch as a part of the crew, they may well stand a chance, but can they fight off a lifetime of prejudice to seek his help and save their own lives?

• Language: English
• Publisher: J W Murison
• Release date: Nov 16, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005895877

J W Murison

I was born in the cottage hospital of Fyvie in Aberdeenshire in 1961. I grew up on various farms in Aberdeenshire until I was eleven and then our family moved to Morayshire. I did not enjoy High School there. I was frequently belted for not being able to do my homework or producing illegible work most teachers couldn’t read or couldn’t be bothered trying to read. As a result of this I was often shoved into special needs classes where the teacher taught nothing but religion. At the age of fifteen, a month before my sixteenth birthday I joined the British Army. I remember the recruiting sergeant coming out laughing with my test results in his hands and telling me I could not get a trade in the army as my test results were to low. I didn’t care, I wanted to run up and down hills with a gun and blow shit up. Thankfully I was bright enough for that and I joined the infantry. I served a total of seven years under the colours, from the jungles of Central America to the streets of Northern Ireland. My home and family were the men of the 1st Battalion The Gordon Highlanders.When I left the Army I found getting a job extremely difficult at first. My first job was driving a chippy van and my first full time job was at ICI Powfoot where I made gunpowder. From there I have had many jobs. I have worked in building sites and on the roads. In peat bogs and kitchens washing dishes. I have waited tables and driven furniture removal vans. Picked fruit and vegetables in season and driven Taxis. In essence I could and would turn my hand to whatever put food on the table and kept a roof over my head.At the age of twenty-five and having been a year unemployed I reached one of the major milestones in my life. Disillusioned and getting desperate I was persuaded to try a part time course at the college. Of course I had to pick the one thing that scared me the most, computers. It was to my great surprise that not only was I able to complete the course but I enjoyed it as well. So I signed up for a full year. For the first time in my life I found that I could communicate with people on the same level. It was a revelation. It was then I began to suspect for the first time that I wasn’t as stupid as I had been led to believe throughout my life to that point. However the winds of fate picked me up and blew me away before I could take it any farther and it was another twenty-five years before I would return to pick up where I had left off.This of course doesn’t explain my preoccupation with books. The only thing I found I could do really well as a youngster was read. Now as you may suspect by now I have learning difficulties. In fact I am registered as disabled with learning difficulties. I am dyslexic, have dyscalculia and a few other associated problems. I know some might be frowning right now as many dyslexics have problems reading. I was told when I was assessed that I have a rare form of dyslexia where my reading abilities are probably above the norm; however my ability to write legibly, grammar, punctuation and my numeracy skills are well below average. This of course is reflected in my writing. I have to get friends to edit all of my work. Even then many errors slip past and are often commented on. To date I only have one book that has been edited by a professional proofreader and that is Teardrops in the Night Sky. The simple cost of proofreading is the one thing that stops me doing it with all of my novels. Having a very poor education with few qualifications has always kept me on the breadline where work and pay is concerned. So it’s going to be a long time before I actually make any money from my books as the royalties from them will go straight towards having the next one proofread.Some may ask, why not go to a publishing house? Yeah ok that’s a fair question but I don’t think I'm ready yet. Too many people trying to do the same thing all at the same time. I also don’t like the idea of being told what to write as has happened to many writers I know who are with publishing houses. Far too many people following the formula for success, publishing houses too follow the trend to keep in the money. I don’t actually care a damn about any of that; I swap genre like my wife swaps outfits getting ready for a day out. To date I have written Romance, Science Fiction, War and Science Fiction Fantasy Adventures. My short stories also include Horror, Children’s stories and Drama. None of this takes into account my poetry either. I don’t have to write a short synopsis and seek approval from editors either. I just write what the hell I like, when I like. Is it the right or wrong thing to do? I suppose in the end it is just a matter of opinion. For me it is the right thing. To become a literary giant, or a best selling author, then it is probably by far the wrong thing to do.I can see in my minds eye a few shaking their head and wondering what the hell I’m all about. For me it’s all about fun. I love the exploration of mind. Whether my characters are in a romantic bind in some blistering desert or being chased across the universe by the bad guys, I don’t care, I just love the journey. Maybe that is the point of my writing across so many genres. I think to only write in one genre would crush me eventually, I am not the kind of person you can kick into a pigeonhole and leave there. I want to have a wee keek at what's round the corner, climb into the next hole over; have a root about and then move on. Of late I have discovered that some of my readers have also decided to join me on the journey. As I have moved from pigeonhole to pigeonhole, a brave few have begun to follow. It is such a buzz when a reader who normally only reads Romance novels, tells you she read your brutal alien invasion novel and loved it.My books are about the characters, it is they who tell the story. I think it is that character development that helps my readers cross the boundaries with me. I am sometimes surprised by how invested some of my readers become in the characters I write about. Not only surprised but delighted. For seventeen years I sat and scribbled away in A5 jotters or banged away on an old laptop that only had a few hours battery life. Every now and then I would take an old book out of the cupboard and read it, then shove it away for a few years. Only a select few were privy to those novels and they could never understand why I never sent them to a publisher. I knew there was little hope of a mainstream publisher taking me on, especially considering the extra work my disabilities would bring. So I sat on them for seventeen years; until about the middle of last year when I began another book and stopped to ask myself a question. What the hell was I doing? So with the help of a friend I had a wee website built, but it was a bit of a flop as no one knew me and no one wanted to buy a book from a complete unknown. It was suggested that I put my books on Amazon. I put them on Kindle and was immediately slated for my grammar etc. That discouraged me for a while but then my friends and family began to step into the breach and helped me edit them. The remarks about my grammar and misuse of words have dropped considerably now and more and more people are taking the journey with me.I sincerely hope you have enjoyed reading this and it puts some perspective on myself and my writing. To date only one of my books is available to order from your local books store or library and that is “Teardrops In The Night Sky”. It is the most popular of my novels and is a simple adventure story that crosses many boundaries. Teenagers to pensioners have written and told me of their delight at reading this novel. For the older generation it is the type of adventure without foul language and all the heavy sex scenes most modern novels contain. For them it’s a step back in time to the kind of pure adventure they were brought up with. For the young it’s something new to explore. It just so happens it's also my mothers favourite novel. Of course now it has been professionally proofread I am going to have to give her a fresh novel. The rest of my books are all available on Amazon as is Teardrops; in Kindle and paperback format.J W Murison

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Mitch could see the wonderful colours of the pebbles beneath the crystal clear water. Ruby droplets dripped into the water; the six year old was fascinated. Somewhere in his mind he knew that he was hurt, but there was no pain. His eyes flicked closed. When they opened again, the water was still there. Another ruby red droplet sploshed into the water of the burn. It tried to radiate out and was washed away in a misty red cloud. A small hand managed to reach his head, but only managed to dislodge a clot. The red droplets began to drip faster.

His eyes opened and closed, sometimes drifting off for a few seconds or minutes at a time. Voices opened his eyes.

‘Are you okay Morag?’

‘I think so Angus, I can’t move. Can you get to Mitch?’

‘No, the roof was caved in when we rolled down the embankment, I can’t see him, I can’t get out of the seatbelt either.’

‘Neither can I, what happened Angus?’

‘I don’t know, I’ve never heard of anything like this happening before. None of the safety protocols have kicked in. Wait! I think I can hear someone coming.’ He began to shout for help.

Mitch wanted to call to his parents, but he was crammed down into an awkward position. Bent over double with the collapsed roof pushing down on his back, he could barely draw breath. He heard the rattle of pebbles striking the side of the car as someone dislodged them on the way down to their rescue.

‘Thank God, thank God, I don’t know what happened, but we are trapped, our son is in the back, can you help us?’

There was a moment’s silence, ‘Angus McIntosh, is it?’

‘Aye, but how… how do you know who I am? Are you with the rescue services?’

‘Does it look like it?’

‘No.

‘Can you reach her?’

‘Sure can, it’s a little tight under here,’ came a different voice.

‘I see you now.’

‘Hello, have you something to cut me free?’ Morag asked.

‘Oh no sweet thing, we aren’t here to rescue you.’

There was a sharp crack, and a howl of anguish from his father’s throat. It was cut off with a slap.

‘You bloody resurrectionists never learn, do you? Scotland this, Scotland that. It is region one five nine. That’s it, that’s all, Nothing more, nothing less.’ There was another sharp crack.

Mitch knew that something bad had happened to his parents. The car began to rock and his wee heart began to hammer in his chest.

‘What’s wrong? Push it over!’ Commanded the first man.

‘It ain’t moving, it’s jammed.’

‘Can you see into the back, is the kid dead?’

‘Nope, can’t see, not unless you want me to drown. Wait, hold on, there’s blood in the water.’

‘A lot.’

Mitch saw fingers appear in the water. They waggled a bit, long and thin with dirty nails, and curled up under the edge of the car.

‘Damn this water is cold.’ The fingers disappeared. ‘Can’t find signs of any blood on the inside. What do you think? Still the odd drip here.’

‘Chances are the kid’s been crushed.’

‘Our orders are all three.’

‘To check properly, we would have to cut the roof off. We can’t do that without compromising ourselves. We are just going to have to leave it.’

‘The establishment won’t be pleased.’

‘Our anonymity is more important to them than a child’s life. The chances are it’s dead. If not, they will just have to deal with it another day. We can’t hang around any longer, let’s go.’

The two men struggled up the steep embankment. When they reached the top, the older took out a device and pressed a button. Below all of the safety equipment was switched on and airbags deployed with a bang. The younger man laughed as a piece of plastic was launched high up into the air.

‘I always liked that bit. Why do you think they do it, these people?’

‘What, you mean try and resurrect the old names for their regions?’

‘Yeah.’

The older man thought it over, then shook his head. ‘I have no idea. The names were changed to stop the old fashioned wars that used to happen. This country hated that country, this one invaded that. Now it is just a bunch of meaningless numbers, every region pretty much the same size the world over. In some places like this, information on their origin is passed down through the families, especially on the islands around here, but most of them are smart enough to keep their mouths shut.’

‘Where to now?’

‘Down to their unit. Let’s see if they have any books or records on this region, look for contact they may have had with others. Send all the information in. They will get their warning. If they don’t stop, the same thing will happen to them.’

‘We may be here for a while then.’

He looked up at the scuttling clouds. A cold wind had picked up. It seemed like it could begin to rain at any moment.

‘I hope not. This place is a shithole. With any luck there isn’t a nest of the bastards.’

‘How often are we that lucky?’

Neither killer seemed happy at the prospect. Below in the small burn, the deployment of the airbag had slammed against the roof of the car and blown it out a few inches. The pressure removed from the child’s back ensured his survival.

Chapter 2

The transportation unit was being dragged back up to the road. The emergency service personnel all looked shocked. None had ever seen a transportation unit leave the road before. A senior officer appeared on the scene and was guided to the officer in charge.

Joe McGilvery quickly noticed the new arrival – William Bell, the senior officer for the whole of the region. The two were old friends and shook hands.

‘How’s it going Bill?’

‘Not bad Joe, what the hell happened here?’

Bill shook his head, ‘It’s a sad affair. Two hours ago we were alerted by this transportation unit’s emergency beacon. When we arrived we discovered it lying in the burn at the bottom of the embankment. All the occupants are dead. We didn’t bother taking the bodies out, the embankment is too steep. I just sent for a heavy unit to drag it up here.’ He lifted his hands towards the evidence of their endeavours.

‘Who died?’

‘A young family.’

‘Family!’

‘Angus and Morag McIntosh along with their six-year-old son Mitch. We think he is in the back, but the roof was squashed flat.’

‘It’s a tragedy.’

Joe glanced over at his superior. ‘It is a tragedy that should never have happened.’

‘Any ideas yet?’

‘We checked the road first, there isn’t a malfunction there. Then we plugged in the diagnostic for the transportation unit. It came down the hill behind us and instead of slowing down, began to pick up speed. When it reached the bottom, there was a complete system failure. It flipped up and over the barrier and tumbled down the embankment.’

The two men shared a knowing look. ‘I wonder what they were up to.’

Joe’s head bobbed slightly, ‘That’s exactly what I was thinking.’

‘Have you checked the road logs yet?’

‘As soon as I saw what happened. There is a discrepancy between the physical log and the electronic log. The physical log has one extra vehicle coming down this road today.’

‘How much would you like to bet that those logs disappear tomorrow?’

‘No takers here, Bill.’

‘How are the lads taking it?’

‘I think this is the first transportation accident for all of them. They are so rare these days.’

‘Make sure none of the lads look too deeply into it, we don’t want a spate of them.’

‘I will, don’t worry.’

‘What was the family’s status?’

‘The father was a seventy-two, the wife a seventy-one. Programming analysts.’

‘Higher than us.’

‘Way higher. We don’t see many of them in these parts.’

Bill thought it over. ‘There are a few further south. None of them live main stream though. What about them?’

‘Small living unit in the country.’

‘A country cottage.’

‘Was once, replaced by a modern unit about twenty years ago. I would imagine they requested it.’

‘I imagine so. Where were they going today?’

‘According to the logs, they were going to Montrose. Transport was requested three days’ ago.’

‘Family visit?’

Joe shook his head, ‘No, both sets of parents passed away years ago.’

‘That’s unusual.’

‘I don’t have the details.’

The transportation unit screeched as it was dragged back over the barrier. Joe stepped forward, shouting out orders to his men.

‘Keep away from the cables, stand well clear. Stand by with the cutting equipment. Get it right on to the road.’ He held up a hand, fist clenched. ‘Alright, that’s far enough. Let some slack into the cables. That’s it, that’s fine. Switch off the winch, cutters, get that roof off.’ He walked over to the medical unit and had a quick discussion. They brought over three stretchers for the bodies.

It didn’t take them long to cut the roof off. The adults were released from their seatbelts and lifted out of the unit. One of the medics examined them.

He looked up at Joe, ‘Both their necks broken. I don’t understand why though. There are no other marks on them, hardly any bruising from the belts either.’

Joe scowled down at him, ‘Don’t ask questions, just do your job.’

‘Sorry sir.’

Joe’s eyes turned towards the transportation unit. No-one as yet had removed the child. Every worker was studiously busy doing something else. He didn’t really blame them. He too was intending leaving it to the medics. Then, to his mortal horror, the child began to move, it even tried to sit up.

‘The kid’s alive!’ The cry was out of his mouth in the same instant as his legs began to move ‘Bring a back board.’ He roared at no-one in particular. He stepped into the unit and braced the child with a hand.

‘Sit still young fella. Try not to move.’

The child’s eyes were a deep blue. There was no fear in them, very little life either. The eyes closed again. A board was handed to him, and he slid it down the seat behind the child. It took two minutes to secure him to the board then cut the straps holding his seat. Joe lifted the child, still in the chair, out of the unit. The child’s eyes opened and focused on his parents. Joe noticed and slid a hand in front of his eyes.

‘Don’t look laddie. Just close your eyes again.’ The child obeyed and Joe clambered into the back of the medical unit. The medics piled in after them. They took over, the bodies of the parents forgotten.

The most senior of the medics looked to Joe. ‘We need to take him in.’

Joe nodded his agreement, ‘As quick as you can. Send a mortuary vehicle out for the bodies.’

‘Yes sir.’

The doors slammed shut, and the road beneath the unit lit up as it activated. The unit lifted off the ground, and slowly began to pull away.

Joe suddenly found Bill by his side again. They watched it until it was out of sight.

Bill placed his hand on Joe’s shoulder, ‘The poor mite.’

Joe agreed with his sentiments, ‘Aye, I doubt his life will be easy now.’ He turned his attention back to his crew.

‘Get this wreck off the road.’

The men leapt back to it. The small drone that had recorded the whole operation, as well as taking detailed scans of the area, returned to its dock. The wreck was dragged onto a flatbed and tied down, then the heavy equipment retracted its legs and sat flat on the road. Once everything was secured, it lifted up and left in the same direction as the medical unit.

Bill talked briefly to Joe before he left.

‘Are you going to wait with the bodies?’

‘Aye, I’ll wait. What about you, what are you going to do now?’

‘I will send a unit to check out this family’s living unit.’

‘Do you think you will find anything?’

‘I have a sneaking suspicion I am going to find a lot of missing hard drives.’

‘Why do we put up with those bastards Bill?’

‘What bastards Joe? Do you even know who to blame, or who’s in charge of this world we live in?’

A gust of wind howled down the glen and snapped at the men’s uniforms. Joe took off his reflective topcoat to reveal the same uniform as his boss underneath. The only difference was their designation letters within the shield on their left arms. All of the emergency services were part of the same team. Joe had R for rescue on his shield, and beneath it was TL for Team Leader. Bill had CA for Chief Administrator. When they were young, it used to be I for Inspector.

‘No,’ Joe admitted. ‘I have no idea. All I know is that they are the nineties and hundreds. The two lying there are some of the highest numbers I have met.’

‘I met an eighty-five once.’

‘Wow, what was he like?’

‘Thick as two short planks.’

‘Seriously!’

‘He was as thick as fuck Joe, didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. I was appalled.’

‘Who was he?’

‘A senior administrator with ten regions under him.’

‘Including ours?’

‘Aye of course. How else would I have met someone so high? He was taking over from his father and wanted to meet us all.’ Bill shook his head sadly. ‘A grinning buffoon is about as polite as I can describe the man.’

Both men winced and covered their ears, simultaneously looking up. High above an aircraft punched a hole through the clouds and accelerated up out of sight into the upper atmosphere.

‘What the hell was that?’ Joe asked, wagging a finger in his ear.

‘Sonic boom. Bloody air force; they aren’t supposed to do that until they are over a mile up, but it creates that bonny hole in the clouds if the conditions are right.’

Joe stretched his neck, ‘Aye, yer right, it is a bonny hole, and it’s still expanding.’

‘I heard there is a competition to see who can create the biggest hole every year.’ Bill watched it expand for another half-minute. ‘Right, I have to get back.’

The two shook hands and Bill left. Joe straightened out a corner of the sheet that was covering the bodies, which had been lifted by the wind, then sat down on a rail to wait.

Chapter 3

‘Forty-eight percent McIntosh, forty-eight.’ The proof was held out in front of his face to see. ‘You are hardly worth educating.’ The administrator of the school and orphanage was having a ripe old time of it. ‘How the mighty have fallen, young man. Six months ago you were a seventy like your parents. You really must have hurt your head in that accident.’ He laughed at his own wit. ‘Well McIntosh, have you anything to say for yourself? Do you have an explanation for this diabolical result?’

The six year old Mitch looked at the paper. He could read very well, but it still made no sense to him.

‘I don’t know sir.’

‘Do you know how many questions you got wrong to do this badly McIntosh?’

‘None sir.’

‘What boy!’

‘I got them all right sir.’

‘Are you completely illiterate? Can’t you see it boy? You only got forty-eight percent right.’

Mitch thought it over and shook his head. ‘The ball was blue, the pencil was red, the sky was sky-blue, four divided by two is two, twelve divided by four is three. The North Sea is east of region one five nine. Precipitation is another name for rain. Precipitation is spelled p r e c i p i t a t i o n.’

Mitch was cut off by a roar of rage from the administrator, ‘Do you think you got them all right McIntosh?’

‘Yes sir, I did.’

‘So you think you are a one hundred then, is that it?’

‘I don’t know what that is sir, but I got all the answers right.’

‘The hundreds are the elite of Human society McIntosh, the people who get one hundred percent on every test. The people who rule this world and all of the other planets in our solar system. The people who gives us jobs, homes, and feed us. That’s who the hundreds are McIntosh, and you believe you are one of them?’

‘I never said that sir, I just said I got all the answers correct.’

The administrator’s face was growing darker by the second, and Mitch was getting worried as the administrator got to his feet. The paper was swapped to his left hand and held much closer to the boy’s face.

‘This says you got less than half right. Is the computer wrong?’

The administrator was now almost leaning over Mitch. He swallowed, ‘Yes sir, it is wrong.’

The hand smashed Mitch to the floor. ‘How dare you, you little shit!’ The administrator’s face was now black with rage as he came round the desk. ‘How dare you say something like that!’ Mitch was barely conscious, but he felt the administrator kick him in the stomach, as Mitch rolled over, he kicked him in the side. He lost consciousness fully when the man stomped on his head.

It was some time later when Mitch came to in the outer office. He was crumpled into a corner. Pain racked his body and face. He was about to howl when a voice pierced his misery.

‘If you cry, he will come out and hurt you twice as badly.’ Mitch could barely see. It was an old lady sitting at the desk. Her eyes were cold as she regarded him lying on the floor. ‘I would appreciate it if you lifted your carcass from my floor and left. Crawl if you have to.’

His tears dried up instantly. He had been warned that the secretary was worse than the administrator. Everyone received a beating from the administrator sooner or later, but his secretary was worse, she was cruel. She inflicted pain that could make you scream.

Mitch had to bite his lip to stop himself from crying out, but he made it to his feet. He shuffled towards the door. She watched him for a moment but seemed satisfied when he didn’t cry out, and went back to her work. As he went out the door, she called after him.

‘You aren’t to see the nurse, you don’t deserve medication.’

Mitch didn’t make if far down the corridor before he collapsed.

Something cool being laid on his forehead brought him round. The dreadful pain was almost gone. An elderly lady applied a cloth to his forehead. She smiled

‘Awake are we? You had us worried there.’

Something leapt into Mitch’s mind. ‘Are you the nurse? I’m not to go to the nurse.’

‘You were well past the point of needing a nurse young man, I am a doctor. Your administrator went a little too far this time. You have been here for a full day now, you had a serious concussion. What brought on the beating?’

‘He didn’t like it that I got all the answers right on my test.’

She frowned, ‘What test?’

‘The big one.’

Her eyebrows shot up, ‘You mean the citizen test?’

‘Yes ma’am.’

‘You got all of them correct. How do you know?’

‘I remember them.’

‘I see, so why was he upset?’

Mitch frowned, ‘He told me I was a forty-eight, and I got over half wrong.’

‘Ah! Then you told him he was wrong.’

‘Yes ma’am. Then he asked me if the computer was wrong. When I said yes, he beat me.’

She sat back and regarded the child. It was barely a month since his parents had died. He had spent over a fortnight in hospital, uncommunicative. When he had shown a little improvement, they had transported him to the nearest orphanage. Her records had stopped there. Now he was here, almost stomped to death by the person who was supposed to be looking after him. She wondered if his mental state was unstable. He was staring at the celling, not engaging her in eye contact. There wasn’t much to him. He was a cute wee boy with straight dark hair. Only his eyes were an unusual deep blue.

She leaned over and switched on the monitors. She took a note of the readings. His pulse and blood pressure were normal, maybe a little lower than normal. Nothing serious. She checked the list of chemicals his brain was putting out. One flagged up immediately. The child was depressed. She checked the functioning of his brain and found it was much lower than she would have expected.

‘Mitch…’ the readings returned to normal as he paid attention to her. ‘Do you know why he beat you?’

They spiked a little, but went straight back to normal. ‘No ma’am.’

‘Alright, just relax for a moment.’ The readings dropped like a stone. It was as though the child had simply switched off. She made a decision. ‘I have to go now Mitch, but it looks like you are going to be alright now. I will come and see you tomorrow.’

He didn’t even acknowledge her.

chapter 4

The Doctor returned the following day just as she had promised. She also brought a tablet. She switched on his monitors, and then the tablet.

‘Mitch, I would like you to take a test. I am going to monitor you to make sure there has been no damage to the inside of your head. Do you understand?’

‘Yes ma’am.’

‘Then start when you are ready.’

She monitored every question he answered, and recorded it. He was quick, very quick. When he was finished she was sure he had answered every question correctly. She received the results on a separate device. The smile on her face slipped. It read forty-eight.

While the child rested, she went over the recording. She reduced the speed, wondering if he had mistakenly pressed the wrong button. He hadn’t. Mitch had answered every question correctly. It threw her into a quandary.

She took herself over to a corner and began to research this phenomena. To her surprise she was summoned to the administrator’s office a short time later.

His secretary showed her in and he indicated the chair sitting before his desk.

‘Good afternoon Agnes. Please sit.’

‘Thank you sir, I wasn’t expecting a call from you, is everything alright?’

His smile wasn’t pleasant. ‘It has been brought to my attention that you have been sticking your nose into something that is none of your concern.’

She was shocked, ‘I have no idea what you are talking about sir.’ He pushed across a tablet and she picked it up. Agnes found herself at a loss for words. ‘I don’t understand sir.’

‘I know you don’t, and with any luck you never will. My question is, who gave you permission to test the child again, and then question the score he was given?’

She was smart enough to realise something was very wrong, and tried to form her answer into something reasonable.

‘When talking to the child, he made some wild claims. I thought that he was delusional, maybe mentally ill. I wanted to prove him wrong. I thought the quickest way would be to test him and then show him the results myself.’

‘I see.’ He thought it over for a moment. ‘Alright Agnes, I will accept that. So why then did you start searching for an answer to the conundrum you were faced with?’

‘I was in shock sir, I was simply looking for an answer to something I had never witnessed before.’

The administrator took a deep breath, his eyes moving around the top of the room. As he exhaled, they settled back on Agnes.

‘You will immediately desist from all forms of research on this matter. You will simply treat the boy and hand him back to the orphanage as quickly as possible. I see you also reported the administrator there for abuse. How do you know it was him? The child might simply have fallen over.’

‘There was a hand mark on the child’s face from a severe blow. I swabbed the area and found skin cells belonging to the administrator.’

‘He called me and told me that he cradled the child’s face in his hand.’

A fighting light began to glow in her eyes, and she sat forward, ‘I did a deep tissue scan of the bruise. It quite clearly shows the child was struck in the face by an open hand. I will take a bet that it matches the administrator’s hand. It is my job and my duty to report any cases of child abuse; I have all the evidence I need to prove it in court. I am also a seventy-five, he is a sixty-five. I am well within my rights to demand his arrest as a private citizen.’

The administrator knew she was correct, and was smart enough to know when to back off. ‘It isn’t the first time he has stepped over the line, is it? I will make sure the authorities look into the matter properly. I will also push to have this child fostered as quickly as possible. In the meantime, you will be reprimanded for your administration of the test without proper authorisation.’ He leaned forward, ‘I am sure you have read about what happened to the parents.’

‘Yes sir, of course.’

‘There are things that happen in this world Agnes, and we do not ask why. This is one of those times. This is an official warning from those much higher in society than I. They only give one warning, this is it.’

‘I am not quite sure I understand sir.’

‘Let this matter rest Agnes. Do not pursue it. Look no further into the boy’s background. I have no idea what grave sin the parents committed, but that they committed one is obvious by their demise, and the child shall also be punished for the sins of the parents. Do not follow their example.’

‘I see.’ Her head dropped. ‘Please accept my apology for my mistakes administrator. I will accept my punishment without objection.’ She lifted her head. ‘May I mention a point to note sir, as a finishing statement?’

‘Please doctor.’

‘If the child continues to perform as he does now, how long do you believe it will be before he realises the results of the tests are a lie?’

‘They most likely have ways of dealing with people like him. Ways we know nothing about. Return to your duties please.’

She stood, ‘Yes sir, thank you.’

chapter 5

The two stood and sized each other up. The child and the farmer. From the point of view of the farmer, the child was nothing special to look at. From the point of view of the child, he had never seen anyone so colourful. Mitch had encountered nothing other than the grey two piece suits that all adults wore. There wasn’t much more colour in the suits that children wore either – the boys’ grey had a slight tinge of blue to it, the girls’ a slight tinge of pink. The only major difference was the piping on the seams, and the insignia on their sleeves.

So the farmer’s denim dungarees, dark green woollen jumper and boots were a cosmic mystery to the child. The man also had long hair, streaked with grey. It blew in the wind. Only girls had long hair.

A weird bellow from a nearby building caught the child’s attention, then a weird creature stuck its head over a gate. Mitch couldn’t help crying out in wonder.

‘Woah! What’s that thing?’

The farmer snorted and spat. ‘It is called a cow.’

‘It’s an animal, a real animal!’

‘Plastic ones don’t bellow like that, laddie.’

‘Can I go see it?’

‘Knock yourself out.’

The boy rushed off, the farmer spat onto the ground again. ‘I asked for a fourteen-year-old that can haul his own weight, what the hell is that supposed to be?’

The escort took a pen-like device from his pocket and held it up. The farmer retrieved a small tablet from his pocket. The pen was tapped against the edge of the tablet and the instructions transferred.

‘You might find the answer in there sir, I have not been informed.’ He walked away without saying anything else. What little possessions the child had were in a small rucksack, left in the mud at the farmer’s feet.

He groaned with exasperation and picked up the rucksack, tossing it over a broad shoulder. The child was still trying to communicate with the cow. He read the details on the way across.

Mitch couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The animal’s breath made him cough, and the stench coming from the inside of the building was unbelievable, but Mitch was enthralled. When he reached out, the beast jumped backwards, when he lowered his hand, the animal approached again. It was a game that brought them closer each time. He had just touched it for the first time when the farmer appeared and it leapt back out of sight into the dark interior.

‘Well boy?’

Mitch looked up, ‘What does it do sir?’

‘It eats grass, farts and shits, pretty much in that order.’

Mitch screwed up his face, ‘Is that all?’

‘They supply milk, meat and cheese to the top twenty percent of the population.’

‘What is that?’

‘What is what? Make sense boy.’

‘Everyone talks about this percent thing. I keep hearing it, no-one explains it. I’m a forty-eight percent.’

‘That means you are thick.’

‘Doesn’t explain it.’

‘Alright, can you count to a hundred?’

‘Yes sir.’

‘What is half of a hundred?’

‘Fifty.’

‘Alright, very clever. What is a quarter of a hundred?’

‘Twenty-five.’

‘So you know fractions.’

‘My mother taught me.’

‘Well, there is some correlation between fractions and percentages. One hundred percent of one hundred, is one hundred. Fifty percent of one hundred is fifty. Ten percent of one hundred is…’ he left it hanging.

‘Ten sir.’

‘There you go, now you know about percentages.’

Mitch scowled up at him. ‘So if there were only a hundred people, then only the top twenty would know about cows.’

‘Aye, and what they produce. Now listen to me well laddie. You now live in an environmental enclave. This area is protected under strict laws, and legislation. Anyone lower than an eighty, other than you or me, isn’t allowed up here. You aren’t allowed to discuss anything that happens here with anyone other than me. Am I making myself understood?’

‘Perfectly.’

‘Fine, come with me.’

Mitch followed the farmer to his home. It was an old farmhouse, and quite large. The inside was a wonder to Mitch. Even his bed looked different. The covers had colours and designs. The curtains were heavy and thick, and Mitch discovered that he would have to close them by hand. The farmer tossed his pack onto the ground.

‘Are you hungry boy?’

‘No sir.’

‘Then unpack. I will try and find clothes more suitable for you.’

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, the door opened. A pretty Asian girl bowed low as soon as she saw him.

‘Good morning sir.’

‘You are very late today Yui. What is your reason?’

‘Someone had already booked all the available transport sir, I had to request a new unit.’

‘The reason for the lack of transport is now up the stairs. We have a guest.’

She smiled, ‘Did you get a boy sir?’

‘Well he is a boy, that’s about it.’ He handed over the pad. ‘At least he didn’t scream at the sight of the cows.’

‘That is encouraging sir.’ She took the offered pad. ‘He is only six?’

‘They are dumping him on me, he also seems a lot smarter than the forty-eight percent they gave him.’

‘I am a lot stupider than the eighty percent they gave me sir.’

He regarded her coldly, ‘You are not to tell him what percentage you are, or that I am for that matter. Do you understand?’

‘Yes sir.’

She took off a grey overcoat to reveal a black dress underneath. From a bag she produced a white hat and apron. Both were starched. She put them on.

‘Does this please sir?’

He smiled, ‘Yes it does. You may stay the night for your extra effort.’

She bowed, ‘You honour me sir.’

‘Now get up that stairs and sort him out. I know there are kid’s clothes around here somewhere. Find them, dress him, let’s get him out to work.’

Chapter 6

The hardest part of getting used to his new home had been the food. Mitch had never eaten real food before. He choked on almost everything for the first few days. It had brought a barrage of abuse from the farmer, along with orders to chew his food more thoroughly. The maid was a complete mystery to Mitch. She cooked and cleaned, and there were times when she stayed overnight. Regardless, Mitch always found clean clothes laid out for him in the morning.

Mitch had been installed in his new home during the school summer break. He was up at five in the morning to lead the cows into the milking parlour. For the first week the farmer went with him, but once he got used to the gates, Mitch did it on his own and the farmer had a lie in. Everything was a struggle. The gates were heavy, the labour taxing. But Mitch drank milk for the first time, ate cheese, butter, real vegetables. He began to grow and his frame began to put on muscles. In six short weeks he had gained a couple of kilos and had more energy than he could ever remember.

Things changed on the day he went back to school. He had done his morning chores and had been given his bath by Yui before getting dressed for school. He was surprised when the farmer met him just outside the gate. Until then, he hadn’t taken too much notice of the boy. Their conversations were short and mostly involved instruction. Now he stood looking down at Mitch by the garden gate.

‘Do you like it here boy?’

‘Yes sir.’

The farmer looked skywards. ‘That’s a shame. You could return to the orphanage if you wish.’

‘I prefer it here sir.’ Mitch was warily watching the cane the famer held in his hands.

‘You know boy, I think you are alright. The trouble is, if you stay here, there is a price to pay. When you were given to me, I was instructed to beat you regularly. If I don’t you will be taken somewhere else, and someone else will beat you. I don’t really want to.’

‘What have I done that was so wrong sir?’

He looked down at Mitch, ‘I have no idea laddie. We do what we are commanded, or we also suffer the consequences. I am sure you realise that by now.’

The life seeped out of the boy’s eyes and his head dropped. ‘You haven’t beaten me yet.’

‘Before now there would be no-one checking. Once you get to school there will be. Make up your mind what you want to do. There will be few times in your life when you get to make a free choice. Today, I am giving you that choice.’

‘What does it matter who beats me? The administrator of the hospital almost killed me. Are you going to beat me that hard?’

The farmer flicked the cane up. ‘No, I’m going to give you a few strokes with this thing, in places that will be easily seen. When those bruises and marks go down, I will give you a few more. I won’t beat you at the weekends, nor on the holidays.’

‘Will it hurt?’

‘It’s going to sting like buggery boy.’

Mitch’s head came up. ‘I would rather be beaten by someone who doesn’t want to do it than by someone who does.’

‘I understand. Lean against the dyke lad.’

Mitch put his hands against the drystone wall. He couldn’t help yelling out when the cane struck him. Four times it struck before the farmer turned away. He cried all the way to the top of the road, and most of the way to school.

The check came two days later when he was doing PE. The teacher noticed the marks on his legs and wrote it into the records on his pad. It was at that moment that Mitch knew the farmer hadn’t lied.

Those weren’t the only perils Mitch had to contend with. The small enclave in the highlands of what once was Scotland had more than one farmer. Their children were bigger and stronger than Mitch. He was a newcomer, and they didn’t like it. They also took pack lunches with them. Mitch sat with the village children at meal times and consumed grey cubes of flavoured soya.

The first time Mitch received a beating from the farmer outside of their normal routine was when Mitch returned home with a black eye. When he admitted that he had received a beating and hadn’t lifted a hand to defend himself, he received a half dozen strokes of the cane. Four times this was repeated, until one day the headmaster called to say that Mitch had beaten up one of the boys at school. He didn’t receive a beating that night. Instead he was treated to a special pudding called a trifle. Thus the desire to win was instilled into the child. By the age of seven, he could terrorise the whole school. He even took on the big boys. If they beat him, he would ambush them, often using a wall to leap onto their backs. His fearlessness quickly earned him the nickname of Mad Mitch.

He found it very hard to make friends. Slowly, the other kids learned that if they left him alone, he was quite content to do his school work and ignore them. He earned a grudging respect.

chapter 7

‘What’s wrong with your face boy?’

Mitch wasn’t known for smiling much, but neither was he known for brooding. When he sat down at the dinner table, it was obvious something was on his mind. He simply shrugged.

‘Come on, spit it out.’

‘I got some questions wrong today.’

‘On the big test?’

‘Yes sir.’

‘So where is the problem? You’re a forty-eight, aren’t you?’

‘I never get questions wrong on the test.’

The farmer went very still. Mitch missed the warning signs.

‘You normally get them all right do you?’

‘Yes sir, this is the first time I have ever got one wrong.’

‘So you think you are a hundred do you?’

Mitch’s eyes snapped up from his plate. ‘I never said that sir.’

The farmer snapped to his feet, ‘That’s what you are bloody thinking, isn’t it?’

‘No sir, I…’

The farmer came around the table and dragged Mitch outside. Mitch howled in protest, but it did him no good. He was thrown to the ground and the farmer picked up the cane.

‘I will teach you to think you are a hundred, boy.’

The beating was ferocious. He left Mitch immobile on the wet ground. Unable to move, barely able to cry.

Yui was ashen faced and trembling.

‘Leave him be,’ he growled.

‘I will not.’

The farmer was shocked. ‘Do as I tell you, or I will send you home.’

She snapped, ‘Then send me home. Do you think I care? Do you think I will sit by and watch you beat an innocent child like that?’

‘He lied.’

‘Mitch does not lie. He isn’t like that. I may not be as smart as you are, but I know you could have found out first, before you beat him. Get out of my way.’ She pushed past him and ran out of the door. He heard Mitch cry out as she touched him. Soothing words followed.

The farmer was furious. He was determined to kick them both out. He would prove it. He would prove to her that the child was lying, then he would kick both of them out. He could and would make the rest of their lives a misery. The carefully prepared meal was sent flying across the room. He went into the pantry and closed the door. He slid a pot to the side and with a gentle push revealed a panel. A light scanned him and the back wall of the pantry, shelves and all, swung in. He back heeled a pot that fell off the shelf and closed the door behind him. The small windowless room was filled with high-tech equipment.

‘I am detecting high blood pressure levels, would you like me to perform a medical scan?’ A gentle voice crooned at him.

‘No I bloody wouldn’t, connect me to region one five nine central.’

A face appeared on the wall in front of him. ‘Good afternoon sir, could I have your identification code please?’

It was the normal pretty-boy face, so typical of the operators that central chose. It didn’t make them any brighter.

‘I am already logged in, it should be right in front of your bloody face.’

The operator’s eyes widened in surprise, ‘We are required to ask for vocal verification sir.’

‘Oh for fuck’s sake! Brian Kennedy, 9019029001.’

‘Thank you sir, your identification has been confirmed. How can I help you today?’

‘I want all citizen test results for Mitch McIntosh, age seven.’

‘Thank you sir, if you would wait a moment. Ah yes, he is a forty-eight.’ The operator smiled brightly. ‘Will that be all for today sir?’

‘I am not talking about the published score you fucking idiot, I am talking about the real results.’

The operator blanched visibly. ‘I’m sorry sir, I don’t know what you mean.’

‘Of course you don’t, because you are a plastic idiot, shoved in there to make the old ladies smile. Connect me directly to central you prick, before you find yourself cleaning ventilation shafts in the big cities.’

Now he was visibly shaken. ‘Yes sir, immediately.’

The wall went blank for a moment. Writing appeared. ‘Voice mode,’ he snapped at the wall. It went blank again.

‘I am the AI for region one five nine. You may call me Maggie. How are you Brian? It has been a while since you have requested my services.’

He felt his blood pressure lower a few points. ‘I’m not happy Maggie, who was that idiot of an operator?’

‘Are you really interested in his name, Brian?’

‘No, of course not. I want to know why I wasn’t connected directly to you.’

‘It is a new initiative Brian. It provides jobs and status to the operators. They are there to deal with the many simple enquiries that take up a lot of my time and resources. Do you have something a little more challenging for me today Brian?’

‘I have an enquiry your low-born operators can’t access.’

‘Then I will be more than willing to help. I see you have tried to access the records of a seven-year-old child. Am I to assume that you are not happy with what you have been told?’

‘I want the real records, not the sham.’

‘These records are sealed by administrator 9607990999. He is a ninety-eight.’

‘I really don’t give a shit what he is Maggie, does he outrank me?’

‘No sir, of course not.’

‘Then give me the bloody results.’

‘The child has consistently scored one hundred on each of his citizen tests, until today.’ Brian groaned. ‘Are you alright sir?’

Brian rubbed his face vigorously, ‘Aye, I’m fine. So what made today’s test so vigorous, was there anything unusual about it?’

‘Yes. As he has been designated a forty-eight for life, the questions have been made much harder. All people who score one hundred, apart from those born with the designation, are tested more rigorously. The final set of questions are normally set at a year higher than their school level. It would seem that the child is aware that he consistently scores one hundred. Mathematical questions aimed at pupils four years ahead are now having to be used to try and bring down the child’s perception of himself.’

‘What kind of mathematical questions?’

‘The child was asked questions on mathematical navigation and star chart cartography.’

‘Seriously?’

‘I detect a hint of sarcasm in your voice today Brian. This isn’t like you, why are you so upset?’

‘Why am I upset Maggie… well, I have done something bad, something I regret.’

‘To the child? He is in your care, isn’t he?’

‘Yes, I asked for a kid with a bit of muscle to help with the animals, and I get a fucking genius whose parents were murdered.’

‘We can have him removed permanently if you wish. His parents were resurrectionists. That is against world order. They were warned and failed to heed the warning. They were summarily tried by proxy and sentenced to death, the child was also supposed to have died in the accident. You need only command Brian, and it shall be carried out.’

‘No. He is the most capable child I have been sent so far. I need him here. He actually pulls his own weight, and a little more besides. Have you any idea how hard it is to find a kid who doesn’t shit or piss themselves the first time they see a cow?’

‘No I do not. It is a practical problem that I shall never be able to experience.’

He sighed and the AI waited patiently.

‘What does the future hold for him?’

‘If he continues to do too well on the citizen test, he is to be removed. If the child reaches the age of sixteen, he will transferred to region zero one nine, where he will join the space infantry.’

‘I see.’ The farmer was silent as he thought things over. ‘I am going to make changes to those orders.’

‘I understand Brian.’

‘These orders will be sealed. Anyone trying to change them will be put directly in touch with me. These orders will stand until he reaches the age of sixteen. After that he is on his own. You will continue to challenge the child on the citizen test, but not unfairly as you did today. You will repeat the same questions on the next test. If he manages to receive one hundred on the test, then you will advance as you normally would for any other child. He is not to be harmed, no matter how well he does. Am I making myself understood Maggie?’

‘Perfectly sir. May I ask why? Have you become fond of the boy?’

‘No I haven’t. This is reparation for the beating I gave him today. I accused him of lying, and he hadn’t. Am I not a just and fair master Maggie?’

‘You may well be Brian. Is he to remain a forty-eight?’

‘Of course.’

‘Your orders have been received and sealed Brian. Is there anything else?’

‘No.’

‘Then have a pleasant evening Brian.’

Yui was applying a cooling dressing to Mitch’s wounds. Some had broken the skin. The farmer pulled up a chair and sat by the top of the bed. Yui ignored him and went about her self-appointed task. Mitch’s eyes were cold. He turned his head away.

‘Look at me boy.’ Mitch turned his head back, but his eyes were still cold. ‘Why do you do it?’

‘Do what sir?’

‘Don’t play ignorant. You know what I am talking about. You are smart enough to realise that no matter what you do, you will always be a forty-eight. So why do you always strive to get a hundred? I have just seen your scores, you have been consecutively tested well above your years, yet you still pass.’

‘How do you know that sir?’

‘I have connections. We supply the one hundreds with their meat, remember. So just answer the damn question. I promise that I will not punish you for any answer you give. If you do not give what I consider a satisfactory answer, I will punish you again.’

‘Because it is the only way I can get back at them.’

‘Who?’

‘I don’t know. I just know that it must annoy them. They killed my mum and dad. Maybe the men will come after me one day.’

The farmer felt a chill run through him. ‘What would you do if they did?’

‘I am going to kill them.’

‘Do you think you can kill them?’

Mitch thought it over for a moment. ‘Probably not,’ he answered truthfully, ‘but I will try.’

The farmer stood up. ‘No-one will come near you until you are sixteen. After that you will be on your own. You can take that as written in stone. If you score a hundred on your next test, I will help you prepare.’

‘I had no idea what I was looking at sir, it was too far ahead of me.’

‘It was first year level questions on mathematical navigation and star cartography.’

Mitch’s eyes widened, ‘You know what it was?’

‘I told you, I have connections. You will find resources here to help you learn it, if you want to. You will need to learn to write.’

‘I can write and spell sir.’

‘No, I mean to write properly, with a pen and paper. Once you can do that, you will be able to do it on a pad. For these things you need to be able to show your workings. I can teach you how to write laddie, the rest is up to you.’

‘I will try then.’

The farmer left. Yui finished applying the salve and dressings.

‘How does that feel Mitch?’

‘Much better thank you. Why is he helping me?’

‘I think it is his way of saying he is sorry.’

Mitch closed his eyes and slipped off to sleep.

Chapter 8

Mitch carried in a large armful of logs and placed them into an old wicker basket by the fire. The farmer looked up from the dining table, ‘It’s your birthday today, isn’t it?’

‘Yes sir, my fourteenth.’

He grunted, ‘There are four calves to cull, and a dozen beef cattle. Tomorrow you can take the drones, and take the sheep down. As for today, after you have taken care of the beasts, you can have the rest of the day off. No training. Happy birthday.’

‘Thank you sir.’ There was no trace of sarcasm in Mitch’s voice.

‘Collect the rennet from the calves, clean out the stomachs and hang them up to dry. I want one of the beasts for the freezer.’

‘Yes sir.’

The farmer watched the broad shoulders of his ward until he was out of the door, then went back to his breakfast.

Mitch made a decision to wash down the yard, as he slogged through the mud towards the barns. It would make good use of the extra time he now had available to him. He wore the regulation uniform for manual labour, along with the regulation wellington boots issued to farmers. As he entered the first barn, he froze.

‘I was told no training today.’ His words were met by silence. ‘You are in the rafters above me. You were in the top left hand corner but have now moved, you are almost directly above me’. A small sound reached his ears; he turned around and looked straight into her eyes. ‘Afternoon.’

A black hood was slid back to reveal a pretty oval face, framed with luxurious black hair. She smiled and Mitch broke out into a cold sweat.

‘No training, just a little test. Happy birthday.’

Mitch still didn’t move. Of all the trainers he had worked under over the years, this one had caused him the most pain.

‘Thank you master.’

She gave him a small bow and walked away. Still Mitch remained still. He never moved until he was sure she was gone. She had steel balls that she used to punish him with. She threw them so fast it was very hard to spot them. These days he was able to deflect them, but only if he saw them coming.

With a large sigh of relief he went about his morning schedule. He took the calves one by one into the slaughter room. The first playfully tried to nip his fingers. He slipped the head harness onto the animal and stepped back. At the touch of a button the calf fell dead. He strapped up its hind legs and hoisted it onto a hook. Another button slid the carcass out of that room into the next.

Mitch remembered the first time he had killed a calf. At first he had refused; it was a calf he had hand-reared since birth. A severe beating had ensued. It wasn’t the beating that had persuaded him to do the deed, it was Yui. She had told him he was being selfish. He sat at the table and ate the meat off it, but he didn’t want to have to do the dirty work. Her gentle words had accomplished what brutality hadn’t. He cried before he did it, he cried after he did it, and he cried while the farmer stood over him and made him butcher the animal. His cold words still rang deep in his mind.

‘You want to kill the men who killed your parents, but you can’t even kill a helpless calf. I can assure you boy, it is far harder to kill a Human being than it is a helpless animal. Save yourself a lot of pain and grief. Fail your next citizen test.’

Mitch hadn’t failed it. At nights he had studied hard. Formal, hard faced computer generated tutors had guided him remotely. The farmer hadn’t lied to him, he had made the resources available to Mitch. Of course, they were all recordings and available to any pupil who was studying the subject officially. What Mitch hadn’t realised at first was that there was no way he should have had access to any of it. Mitch had been subjected to far more information than the rest of the pupils at his school were. The farmer had never told Mitch what his percentage was, but by the age of fourteen, Mitch was pretty certain of it. Every now and then, if the farmer was in a good mood, he would treat Mitch to a film, for the most part centuries old.

Mitch had never met a single person with access to them other than the farmer. Now and then parcels arrived from all over the world containing strange fabrics, clothes, food, wine and spirits. There were books as well, real books with paper pages. Mitch on occasion got his hands on those too, but he had to wear gloves while reading them. The books would be read, repacked, and sent on their way. Not long after, other parcels of books would arrive. Awkward questions were met by strokes of the cane. But now Mitch barely felt the strokes.

When the calves had been dealt with, he gutted them and removed their stomachs, which went into a separate machine to be cleaned. The rest of the carcass was whipped into the processing plant. The beef cattle followed the calves. Mitch kept the last one out. When the others were finished, he reset the machine. The carcass was returned to him, skinned and cleaned. The others had been placed in a storage unit, which would be picked up by drone sometime within the next few days. It took him the rest of the morning to butcher the carcass.

When he came back out into the sunlight, it was to find the farmer and his teacher cleaning the yard. He stood and watched for a few moments. The farmer was using a sonic hose to push the mud into the drainage ditch, and she was adding water to the ditch to help wash it away. Mitch moved up to his side.

‘Would you like me to take over sir? I was going to do it later.’

A grim smile played across the old face.

‘This was how you spent your birthday last year, wasn’t it?’

‘Yes sir.’

‘You aren’t going to spend it working Mitch. It is about time you started getting out there, making friends, shit like that. Get showered, get dressed and call a car. Go into town and spend some credits.’

‘I, uh… I don’t really have any friends.’

‘I don’t care, fuck off.’ The warning light appeared in his eyes.

‘Yes sir.’

Mitch backed off and went in the house. He stood inside the door, unsure of what to do. The walls gave him no inspiration. He requested a transportation unit for half an hour’s time, grabbed a quick shower and put on some clean clothes. He had just reached the end of the drive when it arrived.

Chapter 9

A giggling soft body ran out of a shop and right into him.

‘Ow! What the hell?’

Mitch looked down at the offender. ‘Hello Judy.’

She slapped him on the chest with one hand, while touching her nose delicately with the other.

‘What the hell Mitch? You’re like a brick wall!’

Mitch looked over her left shoulder at Judy’s best friend. He could see she was worried about her friend slapping him.

‘Hello Shona.’

The plain girl with the dirty blond hair revealed more of herself, ‘Hi Mitch.’

He turned his attention back to Judy. ‘You want to look where you’re going before you come charging out of a shop like that.’

‘Oh shut up! What are you doing in town on a Saturday anyway?’

Shona almost moved into plain sight. ‘It’s his birthday remember? The teacher wished him happy birthday before we finished yesterday.’

‘Did he! Never heard him say anything like that.’

Mitch and Shona passed a knowing look. Judy had developed early. Her breasts were already the talk of the town, her good looks turned heads. Shona was lagging behind. She was plain, leaning towards pretty, her body slim and her breasts small. Mitch took no heed of either, while Judy took little heed of anything that was happening in class. She was probably the only person who wasn’t afraid of Mitch’s temper or reputation. It had simply never occurred to her that Mitch might hurt her.

‘Oh well! Happy birthday. So why are you in town?’

‘It’s my birthday…’ Mitch said it slowly, in the hope that she would get it this time. She simply cocked her head and folded her arms under her voluptuous breasts. Mitch gave in, ‘He threw me out, told me to go into town and enjoy myself.’

Judy smiled in self-satisfaction, ‘Knew there was a real reason for you to be here. You never come into town.’

‘Because there is nothing here.’

‘That’s true.’ She admitted.

‘Hey arsehole, what you doing talking to my bird?’

Mitch turned slowly to find two men he had never seen before. It was the taller of the two who had shouted at him.

‘Who the hell are you?’ Mitch responded. The man looked to be at least twenty years old.

He jabbed a thumb at his own chest, ‘I’m her boyfriend, so beat it.’

Judy tried to step in, ‘We are at school together Mark, it’s nothing.’

Mitch had no intention of moving. The guy was showboating, trying to impress Judy. ‘You do