Beyond: Book Four of the State Series Read online

  Beyond

  Book Four of The State Series

  M.J. Kaestli

  https://mjkaestli.com/

  No portion of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or any other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except for brief quotations for reviews, or noncommercial uses and with proper and correct citation.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2019 M.J. Kaestli

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 978-1-9991850-0-8

  Contents

  Dedication

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 19 - Synopsis

  Acknowledgements

  Author’s Note

  ** There is a scene in this book you may find triggering if you have lost a child or are struggling to have one. If you would like to skip chapter 19, you will find a brief synopsis of the chapter at the end of the book. **

  Chapter 1

  80 years before Freya woke up

  Hope noticed the flashing monitor as she walked in the door, indicating a new message in her inbox. A dizzy sensation manifested as she thought, this is not a customary time to receive communication from the State. Something must be wrong. With a trembling hand, she activated the monitor and placed her hand firmly on the wall.

  Hope 986,

  You are hereby directed to vacate the premises at 07:00 tomorrow. Security will light a path to guide you promptly to your assigned destination. Everything you need will be provided at your new location.

  Regards,

  The State

  Hope collapsed onto the sofa as a numbness overtook her extremities. What does this mean? There was no more information given than what the State deemed necessary. That was how it worked. How it always had and always would. Hope knew she was being moved from her apartment in the morning. Unfortunately for her, she didn’t know where or what she was being moved to, or why.

  The anticipation and suspense were enough to drive her insane. She tried her best to maintain a calm, rational frame of mind. Despite intelligence, a mature disposition, and her best efforts to remain in control of her sensibilities, Hope was still a 13-year-old girl.

  Reasonable. Logical. Rational.

  These were not the adjectives most people would use when describing a girl her age. In fact, it was the common belief teenage girls weren’t capable of such mental patterns with their hormones running rampant and fogging their minds. For Hope, this lack of information from the State felt like a form of torture. Information was power, something she was accustomed to possessing.

  While under their parents’ stewardship, the children were taught all the basics of reading, writing and arithmetic. The curriculum was pushed through from the State to each child’s tablet where their progress and comprehension was closely monitored. It was not a parent’s duty to personally educate their children; their duty was better described as supervision to ensure their child adheres to a schedule and attends to any aid each child may need.

  Once the children were moved from their parental home and into education apartments, each child began a rigorous form of testing. Every day, the children were closely observed by their instructors and every action recorded by the ever watchful eye of Security, who compiled the data and transferred it to the psychologists. Their life-long civil path would be determined within the first year of their education. Most children were not fully advised of the results of their testing until they were almost 16 years old.

  This was an avenue where Hope was special. Once she left the confines of her small, safe apartment, she was going to find out the results of that testing at the delicate age of 13. Somehow, she already knew this information. Hope was on a fast track to becoming an adult. She just wished she knew what that would look like.

  Hope never took much enjoyment from the common rooms like other girls her age; a restless energy consumed her thoughts. When she started school, she quickly understood she was brighter than her classmates. She didn’t relate to their silly and frivolous ways of speaking, thinking, and playing. She was different.

  Although she didn’t particularly enjoy those common rooms, it seemed like a superior alternative to wearing down a patch of the floor. She quickly headed to the common room attached to the underground walkway of her apartment building.

  As it was the peak time for evening meals, she entered a line which spanned the length of the room. As much as she didn’t relate to most other children, she did enjoy observing them. She gained gratification from watching them interact with each other as she mentally assessed their personality profiles, general intelligence, and suitability for civil duty positions post-graduation.

  A boy entered the common room, disrupting her analysis of her peers as she couldn’t help but take notice of him. He walked confidently to his table of friends, throwing his hands in the air theatrically.

  “Guess what boys? I’m being coupled tomorrow!”

  He looked around at his peers with an arrogant, broad grin. They responded with doubtful facial expressions. Weston’s energetic mannerisms started to fade as his arms slowly return to his side.

  “What’s gotten all of your goats?”

  His friends all shared a look with each other, most of them involving a raised eyebrow.

  “What?”

  One of his friends shrugged. “You are so full of it, Weston.”

  “No, I’m not. I’m getting coupled, you guys.”

  One of the boys laughed and patted Weston on the back. “You know, for someone who claims to be a genius, you aren’t that bright.”

  Hope flinched when she heard him say the word genius. Did he get a message just like mine? Is this why he thinks he’s being coupled? She cast her eyes off to the side to hide her interest, but leaned in with her body in an attempt to hear more.

  “First of all, I never claimed anything. If the State recognized I may be a genius and felt the need to test me further than the rest of you—and every education instructor we have had since I arrived here has drawn the same conclusion—”

  “Yeah, Weston, we all heard the instructors,” he rolled his eyes, “Which makes me question what the term genius really means. You’re really good at book smarts but you’re still an idiot.”

  His peers all laughed. Weston squared his slender shoulders and crossed his arms. “Well, I guess you’ll be sorry. You’ll see. Tomorrow I’m getting out of here! I’m getting coupled and you guys will be stuck here.”

  “And why exactly do you think that you, at age 13, would be coupled?” One boy teased.

  “Because he is such a genius,” another chimed in, “the State wants him to have lots of babies, so he needs to get started early.” The boy
s joined in for a laugh.

  “Guys, I’m getting shipped out of here. Why would they send me away? That’s when you leave school, to get coupled.” He threw his thin arms into the air. “No more school for me with you idiots.”

  Hope’s heart raced; perspiration glistened on her brow. He’s getting moved tomorrow, he’s a genius, and from a breeding family…just like me.

  “Sure you are. I bet you are leaving to become the head of State.”

  Weston stood from the table. “You know, I came down here because I thought I should say goodbye to all of you dick heads before I go. I can see now, just how pointless that was.” He slammed his chair back against the table and exited the common room.

  “Oh, don’t be sour, Weston. I’m sure you’re just being taken out again for additional testing. You’ll be back next week.”

  Weston didn’t look back at his friends. He simply raised his hand flashing his middle finger as he walked out of the common room.

  Hope looked from Weston to the group of boys again as they continued to laugh and comment about their friend’s poor temperament. It was enough to turn her stomach. She ran her hands over her coarse, frizzy hair in a vain attempt to smooth it. After a backward glance at the table of boys once again, she exited the line to return to her apartment.

  She had no idea where she was headed tomorrow, but she had the distinct feeling this boy would be there. They can’t couple us, can they? We are far too young. Most civilians were coupled between the ages of 16 and 18 years old. The statistic was almost enough to put her mind at ease if only those pieces of data didn’t raise so many other questions.

  She had also been brought in for special testing just like Weston to determine the extensive nature of her intelligence.

  What if his friends' joke about being coupled young to become a breeder was accurate? Panic coursed through her. What if the standards and normal procedures were bent for children deemed a genius? What if we are getting coupled so we produce copious amounts of children to pass on our superior DNA? The mere concept brought tears to her eyes.

  She wanted so much more from her life and her civil duty than for her brilliance to be wasted as a breeder. She couldn’t imagine a life where her only purpose was to give birth as often as her doctor deemed appropriate. Every day she spent being educated lit a fire in her soul. There were so many possibilities, so much information to harness that she spent her free time gleaning as much information from the database as available.

  Part of her wanted to become a doctor, but another part felt as though it would be too mundane. She wanted to invent and create systems to better their way of life. She desired an intricate combination of working with both her hands and her mind. If she was to have multiple children as the singular purpose of her life, she would never feel complete.

  Whatever was happening, this fate awaiting her—and most likely this boy Weston also—was not a code she could crack without driving herself insane. Her mind was constantly filling with dreadful scenarios of her misery. Going to the common room had been a mistake as it had only escalated her discomfort.

  Although she had not eaten, and she doubted she would be able to sleep, she switched her sofa into a bed and tucked herself in under the covers. In the deep dark of her confined boxy apartment, she closed her eyes. The sooner tomorrow came, the sooner her questions would be answered.

  Chapter 2

  In the morning, her mood was foul as she primed herself. Her temper escalated as her brush continually tangled in her unruly mop. Hope accepted that her efforts were in vain—only a proper wash could salvage her curls—she settled for tacking her hair back in a low pony. Once she finished her morning routine, she looked around her small, simple apartment.

  When she arrived on her first day, her initial impression was surprise due to the compact, humble space. It didn’t even contain a proper bathroom. In her eyes, it was so much smaller and basic than the home she had grown up in. Initially, when she moved in, she had a slightly claustrophobic feeling.

  That feeling had passed rather quickly, allowing her to indulge in how truly liberating it felt to live on her own. Hope wasn’t from a family like most others. Most families were allotted to bear one or two children; she was the oldest of five. Her parents’ genetics had proven superior to many others, and they devoted their lives to bearing children instead of more conventional civil duties. Once the third child was born, Hope’s father left his teaching civil duty as they were only allowed two children at home per parent.

  Hope had loved the moment her father was sent home. She was almost seven years old when her baby sister was born. Her mother tended to the baby and her little brother while Hope’s education demanded most of her father’s attention.

  Hope could read fluently by the time she was four; she was doing quite a lot of things skilfully before most children her age. Her parents concealed the age range of the education material she was to learn. Every time she grasped the subject they simply moved on to the next. By the time she had moved on to public education, she was brought there simply to test her motor skills and determine which physical attributes she excelled in, and where she was weak.

  Her mother was about to give birth to their fifth child when Hope was removed from her parental home. There was something about their family’s genetic makeup the State held in high regard. She learned enough about Darwin’s theory of evolution to understand why her parents were encouraged to reproduce while others were not permitted to do so. Natural selection, was no longer natural—but it most certainly was a selection. The State had clearly taken the concept of survival of the fittest and brought it from a natural law to one enforced by the strong arm of the government.

  She looked back at the clock on the monitor to see it was two minutes until 07:00. She looked around the apartment and questioned if she would ever return. So much of her wanted to believe she was simply going for more advanced testing and would soon return to her studies, but in reality, she had been expecting something like this to be coming her way. She excelled far beyond her peers and even most of her instructors at school. She had to move on because there was nothing left for her here.

  Hope headed down to the underground walkway and alerted Security to her presence. They lit the red floor-lights marking her path. Her mind raced as she tried to calculate the possibilities that lie ahead. It came as a surprise when her journey came to a rather abrupt end. She had not been brought to an apartment or any special kind of school but instead, she stood in front of a medical clinic.

  She placed her hand on the scanner and was immediately granted access. A voice instructed to take a seat over the intercom where she waited. As she sat, an optimistic feeling cautiously set in. If she were brought to a medical facility, there was a chance she wasn’t being shipped off to spend the rest of her life bearing children. There was a possibility, and a good one at that, she was, beginning her training to become a medical doctor.

  She looked around the clinic as a great feeling of relief washed over her. This clean, simple space held a sense of dignity; a geometric pattern of chairs in a straight line onlooking two long hallways with multiple doors. Behind those doors contained opportunity for her to excel.

  It was not as high of a posting as she aspired for herself, but it was certainly better to become a doctor then a breeder. Her move made sense. She needed hands-on experience to become a doctor and her education would be far more advanced than most of her classmates. As she programed her mind into accepting her lot in life, a sudden feeling of dread washed over her—this clinic was too close to her original apartment. If this were to be her training center, they wouldn’t need to move her into a different type of housing.

  Her breath quickened as her blood pressure rose from the panic, gripping her tightly once again. Just then, Security chimed over the intercom, instructing her to enter room five. She got up and checked a few door numbers before she found the appropriate room. She sat and looked down at her feet. It wasn’t long before a nurse
walked in with a tray in her hands.

  “Good morning, Hope?” The nurse did a double take of Hope, placed her tray gently on the desk, and retrieved her tablet. Once she seemed satisfied with the information she read, the nurse retrieved a needle from the tray. “Now Hope, if you could just drop your drawers and lean over the bed, I’ll make this as quick and painless as possible.”

  “Am I permitted to ask what you are giving me?”

  “Nothing to concern yourself with now, dearie. It appears as though you are fit as a fiddle.”

  The nurse placed the needle back on the tray and held a cotton ball securely over the injection site. She followed up with a bandage and stepped away from Hope, giving her some privacy to reclaim her decency.

  “I’m just curious,” Hope pried. “It seems as though you had it ready. When you saw me, you suddenly doubted if you were administering the correct injection, therefore, needing to review my file. That is why I ask. You don’t normally give it to someone my age, do you?”