Disclaimer: I do not own the Tomorrow People. I do not own the concept of the Tomorrow People. That concept, as well as the characters Adam, Ami, and Megabyte belong to Roger Damon Price, Thames, Tetra, ITV, and any other legal copyright holders that I have missed.
Notes: This story is short, and is neither new series nor old series. It will not have a sequel, and is just my glimpse into the future, when the Tomorrow People do finally win out. The time line enclosed will help you understand the story better, as I have created a lot of fictional history that factors into the story.
2190 - A group of 1,000 pacifists teleport from a square in Tokyo, Japan, and all 1,000 reappear in London. The leader of the pacifists, the charismatic man known as 'Jeremy Bell' proclaims the official existence of the Tomorrow People, calling them, the Nova, or Novae for plural.
2195 - The existence of the Novae's power and genetic difference is confirmed by scientists from the US, Great Britain, Japan, South Africa, Australia, China and Russia. They are officially declared a different species
2217 - The Novae Mala Acts are passed with the United Nations, placing civil, legal, and private restrictions on the native population of Novae
2222 - A platinum statue of 'Good Father Adam', a historical hero among the Novae, is erected in Sydney, Australia.
2233 - The Huanga Injustice is committed on a world wide scale, requiring Novae to become tattooed with 'NA' on their chests. Meaning 'Novae Alien'
2240 - In several countries Novae are herded into slums and made to work for pay less than the minimum wage. The schools are segregated.
2270 - Many Novae that live below the poverty line are made to fight in armies, and later on shipped to other planets for cheap labour and testing subjects. The statue of 'Good Father Adam' is torn down and cut up.
2275 - The word 'anaspeciaism' is added to the dictionary. It means the act of trying to get rid of an entire species by means of relocation or death.
2288 - The Novae still free begin civil protests. A large riot breaks out in Moscow, and several hundred protesters are killed.
2295 - War breaks out between the SOTHR (Society for the Human Race) and large, civilly rebellious group of Novae. By the end of the year, 12,098 Novae are dead, 132,970 wounded, 456 missing. The casualities for the SOTHR are barely 1,000. This starts the period of the Ante-Exodus, in which many Novae from different planets flock back to Earth to assist.
2301 - The Novae enlist the help of the Galactic Federation. The Federation sends troops and weapons.
2305 - The SOTHR loses the war and their leader, John Stakov, is forced to sign the Treaty of Cork. The SOTHR war criminals are tried by the Lexington Committee and are turned over to the Federation for punishment.
2350 - The SOTHR is disbanded, and burn 10,000 copies of the 'Novae Mala Act' at the feet of a statue erected in the honour of Patron Ami (The Patron Novae of Precognatives). The ashes are then put on the foreheads of the Novae, in decorative symbols, and singing songs with historical signifigance, especially those composed by Mike Bell in his later days a musician. This what is known as the 'The Nova Burning Fevistival'
2367 - The Novae begin to register all of the Homo Sapiens, making them wear the letters 'HSN' on their hands meaning 'Homo Sapien, Nullified'. Saps becomes a degrading term, used only to insult, and the Homo Sapiens become 'Humans' and later on 'Non-Telepaths'. The Non-Telepaths are restricted, by the Assembly of Prague, to having only two children, called the 'Eden Act'. A silver statue of 'Good Father Adam' is erected in Melbourne, Australia, and the base is made out of the original platinum of the old statue that was recovered.
2396 - The Novae officially place the Non-Telepaths on the 'Threatened Species' list, and begin the 'March to Stars' program, in which they entice Non-Telepaths to leave for work camps on other planets.
2490 - The population of Non-Telepaths is down to less than 1 million.
2510 - The confirmed population of 'Non Telepaths' is now 10,000. Only 1,500 children have been born. 3000 have died.
2512 - The 'Non-Telepath' population is declared an endangered species by the Scientific Council of Serejevo.
2540 - Only about 9,800 'Non-Telepaths' exist. There is an STD epidemic, and treatment is not publicly offered to the 'Non-Telepaths', drastically reducing their population. 1508 are killed and more than half of the survivors are left infertile.
2545 - A series of violent crimes by Novae youth lead scientists to discover the 'Empathic-Claustro Disorder', and the recession of the 'pacifism instinct'.
2555 - Solemn Young, a vibrant, outspoken leader of the 'Non-Telepath' community, is arrested, and in jail he is attacked by a mob of Novae with 'Empathic-Claustro Disorder', and consequently killed. In response, 1,009 'Non-Telepaths' commit suicide.
2570 - The confirmed population of 'Non-Telepaths' is now 2,500. Only 100 are born. 1,400 died.
2580 - The confirmed population of 'Non-Telepaths' is 1,300. Only 60 were born. 160 died.
2590 - The confirmed population of 'Non-Telepaths' is 1,200. Only 30 were born. 1000 have died.
2600 - Less than 100 'Non-Telepaths' remain.
2605 - Only 60 known 'Non-Telepaths remain'. Only 30 of those are capable of reproducing. Of the thirty there are 14 males and 16 females.
2610 - Only 15 'Non-Telepaths' capable of producing remain. 13 are female, two are male.
2615 - One of the two 'Non-Telepath' males capable of reproducing dies. The Eden Act is lifted.
Nurse Marshal Middle blinked at the baby in his arms. She was a healthy, pinkish three-day-old girl; orphaned by a father who would not claim her, and a mother who died in the delivery room. Her eyes had become a lovely shade of blue, dark, with yellow spots. Her hair had decided to become a gorgeous shade of auburn. Marshal rocked her, trying to get her to sleep, but she was wise beyond her few days. She knew that something was wrong. They used to say that all babies were born empathic.
"I don't see why we're keeping her here. She should be in the custody of the Child Welfare Agency. They'll place her with some nice parents," said his companion, Justina Redmond. Her brown eyes showed evident disgust at the thought that Marshal would show any sympathy to that child. She should have been aborted, for her own good. Now that she was born, the Nature that had created them all would have to have its way with her.
"What parents could care for her? Justi, she's such a pretty child. The moment she leaves these walls, the minute she's put out into the world, she's going to find that it's cold and rough. It wasn't her fault. She's innocent." Marshal replied, almost sorrowed. He kept rocking her, not wanting to let her go. This child was the last remnant of so many dead, so many grieving, she was sin born to flesh. The baby tears that fell down her cheeks were the concentration of a thousand tears shed in wars that she never knew of. The blood that ran through her veins was the blood that soaked the Earth so long ago. In those lovely gold flecked eyes rested the most awful history, and the most terrible future. How could he let her go, knowing what would happen to her?
"She's not your responsibility. It's not her fault, but we all bear the weight of our ancestors, Marshal. Look at me, I mean, the guy I'm about to marry insists that our first child be named Megabyte, regardless of gender. Just because his ancestor happens to be Megabyte the Great Damon." Justina answered, with such little empathy for a baby that it scared him. Justina was a full telepath, an empath, she was supposed to care about this child. No, empathy did not equal sympathy.
"Your fiancée's proud of being related to one of The Originals, but it doesn't mean that this child has to suffer. She didn't kill anyone. She didn't attempt anaspeciaism on us so many centuries ago. She didn't hurt anyone, but they're going to hurt her." "She's a Sap, Marshal. You can cut it anyway you like, she's a godforsaken Sap!"
"I'll not have you calling her that! She's not a Sap! She is a Non-Telepath! You don't have to offend her! For crying out loud! Her father won't claim her, her mother died from fear!"
"Marshal, give it up. This child is the last of her kind, and she's going to have to bear the brunt of her ancestor's crimes on her shoulders. I'm sorry, but they made a mess, and she's going to have to clean it up."
"She doesn't even have a name. Her mother wouldn't even name her before she died. She just kept shouting that it wasn't hers, calling the doctors liars. She wanted this baby to be a Nova."
"The father was a Nova?"
"Yes, but she's a 'Non-Telepath. The mother's genes won out."
"How could nature be so cruel? To turn a mother's hope into her dying nightmare? If only... Are we going to name her?"
"I was thinking we might name her Mercy Dawn."
"You're going to torture the kid with a bad name as well, aren't you? Make her life hard, how about it?"
"Well, I think it's pretty. Well, I deem this child, Mercy Dawn. Hey, what was the mother's last name?"
"We don't know. We didn't actually get the mother's name before she died. So we just have Jane Doe on the birth certificate. Would you like to give her a last name?"
"Yes, I would. Hunter. She will be Mercy Dawn Hunter from this day forth."
"Marshal, I hate tell you this, but it sounds as though she was named by a nun."
"I was going to be priest in younger years, but I had problems with some of the rules. So Mercy, are you hungry?"
"Marshal, can I ask something?"
"Sure."
"Why did you name Mercy as such?"
"Because, she'll need to have Mercy for those who treat her badly. Dawn is to remind her that there is hope. Hunter is to give her strength and cunning to survive." Marshal replied, and turn to the baby, kissing her head, "Mercy, listen to me. Be a good girl. Treat them well, though they treat you badly. Forgive them, Mercy. Remember, you were brought into this world innocent, and you can leave the world innocent. Everyone must have three virtues: bravery, honesty, and mercy. The last and best of these is mercy. And like your name, you are the last and best."
That small, innocent bundle was carried into the home of Mike and Vicki Adams, a couple in their late twenties. Vicki wanted to adopt another child, a Nova child, one that she could raise like a human being. Instead she was weighed down taking care of the child of a species that had once been the hated enemy of her own. How could she ever love this barbaric child? Not even with her innocent blue and yellow eyes and curly auburn hair could Vicki ever love her.
Yet Vicki took her vows one day, with a very small toddler sleep on the couch. She took a vow that no matter how much she hated the 'Non-Telepaths', however much she despised Mercy, no matter what she would tolerate her. Vicki knew that she would never love Mercy, but at least she could be civil towards the child. She also swore that Mercy would never call her mother. She would not be Mercy's mother. Instead she was Mrs. Vicki, and her husband was Mr. Mike. Mercy would never have mum and dad, _ever_.
So, five years after they had crossed paths with the auburned hair imp with the blue and gold eyes, they had to make a tough decision.
They could send Mercy to a public school, and let her endure the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune at the hands of her telepathic peers, or they could home school her and lose one half of their income. So it was decided, without Mercy's consent, that she would be put into school.
With the last registration paper Vicki signed, she knew she was signing Mercy's fate, and possibly her death certificate. Yet, she felt no remorse. She could not and would not shelter the girl from the world, because eventually she would have to learn.
If Jade Morton had not studied pediatric empathy for three years at Cambridge, she might never have known there was anything wrong with Mercy Hunter. She looked like a healthy six-year-old. She had large, wondering blue and gold eyes, and auburn hair that was pulled up into a naturally curly little ponytail.
The child was malformed, somehow her mind and her empathic abilities were mutated. Perhaps she had 'Latent Empathic Disorder' which meant she'd have to wait until her teens to get her powers. Only a few children still had to do as the Originals did and 'break-out'. No, even those with the disorder had the feel of a Nova. This girl didn't feel, well, she didn't feel human. It was then that Jade understood. This girl wasn't human. No, she was, she was too human to be in the classroom.
Mercy Hunter was a Sap. How could a Nova teacher be expected to teach a Sap anything? The public school system was designed for Novae, there was no way that a Sap could be educated there. How was she supposed to hear the telepathic instruction? How was she supposed to practice floating her crayons to her table? Mostly, how would she survive in a classroom full of superior creatures? It was like putting a chimpanzee in cage full of humans. It was a stupid idea and cruel, too.
"Hello class. Welcome to Kindergarten. I know some of you are nervous, but don't be. We're going to have great fun in Kindergarten. My name is Ms. Jade Morton. You can call me Ms. Jade. Now, let's go around the room and tell each other our names." She said to the twenty young children that sat at miniature tables with miniature chairs.
One by one each said their name, verbally. Most of them had been taught by their parents that it was rude to alternate between telepathic conversation and verbal conversation. Not everyone, though.
[My name is Marmaduke! And my last name is Damon. I'm just like Megabyte the Great Damon! I'm more specialest than all of you.] Marmaduke Damon, a snobby blonde kid with brown eyes said, telepathically. Under normal circumstances it would have been okay to speak telepathically to the class, especially if one couldn't be heard.
"Ms. Jade? How come he's not sayin' his name?" Mercy asked, raising her hand like Mrs. Vicki and Mr. Mike had taught her.
And the class burst out in to laughing. Mercy tried to get the joke. She tried to understand what they were laughing at, but she just didn't understand. Instead, she started laughing to, slapping her knees as she had seen Mr. Mike do, and saying how funny it was.
"Oh yeah, that's so funny! Isn't that funny?" She laughed with them, and Ms. Jade shook her head sadly. Mercy didn't know she was laughing at herself. In ignorance and oblivion, she let them abuse her.
[Say your name verbally, Marmaduke. Everyone is to say their name verbally.] Ms. Jade 'pathed to the children, and they silenced.
"I'm Marmaduke Damon, and I'm still more better!" The boy repeated, gleefully proclaiming his self-worth. The child, however special, had grammar problems in the extreme and Ms. Jade could only hope that whatever unfortunate English teachers he had would not go absolutely insane.
The shortened day flew by until final recess came. Ms. Jade had dreaded this since she first saw Mercy. Inside of the classroom she could control what happened, but outside of the classroom, Mercy was on her own.
Marmaduke came running towards Mercy, with a very sly look on his face. Ms. Jade watched, with growing horror as he approached her.
"Hey, Meeerrrrcccyyy!" He extended her first name, bellowing it out with most forceful of beacon calls. Mercy turned around, looking at him.
"Whaaat?" She called back, not walking up to him. He walked up to her, his voice not accustomed to screaming.
"I'm real sorry you don't got no powers, yet. But you don't hafta act like a Sap."
He'd said the dirty word. The one awful word that had been branded on her since birth. She didn't understand that word. Sap? Sap was bad, or at least that was how Marmaduke made it sound.
"Huh?" Mercy replied, flabergasted.
"Never mind. I'm just real sorry that you don't got no powers." Marmaduke repeated, and for someone so snobby it was charitable action. If only it could be that way. If only she could just be delayed, not totally malformed.
"It's oooookie. I'm just fine, anyway." Mercy replied, putting her hands on her hips, ever so saucy. "You're sooooo sweet!" And with that she planted a sloppy kiss on Marmaduke. For a moment the boy stood there, shocked, disoriented. Then it came to him. He had been kissed. He
had been kissed by a girl.
"EWWWWW!" He cried, bursting into tears, "You kissed me! I got kissed by a womens!" With that he ran off towards the safety of his male compatriots, hoping that with enough rolling in the dirt he could erase the smooch that had been so wrongly placed on his cheek. "Tommy! Tommy! That womens kissed me! Can you believe a womens kissed me?!" Ms. Jade could hear the boys all reply in unison, 'a womens?!' with a disgust so vivid that only the male mind could comprehend it.
That was one enemy that had been neutralised. So, she'd been laughed at, but she made the boys cry, so all in all, Ms. Jade though, it had been a pretty good day. For Mercy, pretty good days were going to be hard to find.
Mercy exploded in the door, curly auburn hair let down, her tiny backpack thrown onto the couch, and raced to the kitchen.
"Mrs. Vicki! I'm hoooooome!" Mercy screeched, reaching the kitchen with a smile.
"We don't scream like that in the house, Mercy!" Mrs. Vicki admonished. She wasn't happy to see Mercy. In fact, in her own way, Mrs. Vicki resented Mercy. She was hate born into human form. She was a curse, a taunting reminder that at one time the Novae had been hunted and despised. Her husband had come home six years ago, saying that there was a little girl with no home, and because Vicki was infertile, she was eager to adopt. When she first saw the little bundle of auburn hair and creamy skin, she melted. She tried to touch her tiny mind and Vicki's adoration turned to ugly disgust. She was a 'Non-Telepath', a Sap, and a freak. However, Mike's pleading won over.
"What happened at your first day of school, luv?" Mr. Mike asked, coming into the kitchen to prevent a conflict between Vicki and Mercy.
"The whole class laughed and then I made a boy cry!" Mercy said, with a wide smile that indicated she hadn't found out any ugly truths about herself.
"You might just be okay, kiddo." Mike laughed a bit and sat down at the table to read his evening news vid.
Okay was a relatively unstable term. Okay could turn to great as quickly as it could turn horrible. Okay turned horrible very quickly.
With in a few short years, the children had begun to understand that Mercy wasn't different. Inch by inch the blithe ignorance of her early childhood was being stripped away. The other children couldn't be kept from the truth forever, and they wouldn't allow Mercy to remain in the safe darkness of unknowingness. With their taunts, with their cruel uncaring shouts, they made Mercy understand what Sap meant. They began to accustom her to that ugly, ugly word. They let her know that she was less than human, a freak.
From that moment on, there was nowhere in the world for Mercy to go. She would have to stay in the safe confines of her house, where she could let herself pretend that the people on the vids were her friends. She was an outcast, and this was the land to which she had been exiled.
A crying child threw herself on the couch, sobbing furiously. Her body seemed to convulse with each teary intake of air. Vicki left her to cry, going into the kitchen, ignoring her. If she was upset, she didn't need Vicki to help her.
Mike, unlike his wife, couldn't just watch her sob like that, miserably and not try to comfort her.
"What happened, Mercy, what's wrong?" Mike said, pulling her into a hug. Mercy sobbed and sobbed, trying to find words, but unable to do it.
"They said..." she was cut off by a ragged cry that broke Mike's heart in two, "I was a Sap..." and she resumed her crying.
"It's alright, luv. Listen to me, a Sap isn't a bad thing at all. You're a Sap, but that's okay. It means you're a special little girl, and that you'll always be special." Mike said, smiling, although he knew deep down she was going find out he had lied. Some day she was going to know the truth. There was no way he could shelter her forever. But why? Why did this poor innocent girl, already beaten by the storms of life have to scrape the bottom of the barrel of Fate?
Mike was too correct for his liking. She was going to find out, and much too soon. She came home crying several days, and she didn't always have him to run to. She also had to find out that Mrs. Vicki, the only mother-figure in her life, hated her because of something she had no control over.
Years were spent in torment, with summer being the only release she had. In the summers Mercy was safe to hide in her own yard, inside the wooden fence, alone and protected from the other cruel children. Mike would watch her, making dolls and talking to them as if they were friends. She'd even hug them, and invite them to sleepovers. Those dolls were her only solace in the world. He tried to get the children to come over and play with her, but they avoided her like the plague. They were afraid they'd lose their powers when they got near her. The parents of these children were equally as prejudiced, some calling the school and demanding that such a menace to society be put in a cage. They demanded that the 'monster', and the 'devil-child' be made to suffer.
That menace to society was in a cage. It was a cage made of wood, with grass inside, and a fake tree that didn't even offer shade. That monster was suffering, and horribly. All of the wishes of the people had come true. An innocent child's heart was bleeding.
Then, in the summer of her sixth grade year, there was a big story on the news. A woman named Jana Smithy had died. Jana Smithy and Mercy Hunter were the only 'Non-Telepaths' left on Earth. When Mercy died, so would an entire species. Everyone wanted a piece of Mercy. Some wanted to have her on display at a zoo, others wanted to send her off world, and some even thought she should be executed for her own sake.
From then on Mercy had to stay in her house, like a hermit. Whatever childish longings she had to be free and play and romp had to be stunted. Her growth had to be stunted to save her from those that lurked outside of the door. The monster that lay within would forever be hunted by the daemons that stalked outside.
It was then that Mike made a decision. Mercy needed a pet. A dog or a cat or something to ease the lonliness. So he brought home a small, furry cat named Cathy. Cathy was well received by Vicki, and brought harmony into the home. She became Mercy's friend. When Mercy got sick, Cathy would lay beside her in bed, and if she was crying Cathy would purr her back into happiness. Cathy was a playful cat, having green eyes and black fur with a tiny white star on her forehead. Cathy loved to explore the house, loved to try to catch the laces of shoes, and mostly loved to get into all sorts of nooks and crannies.
Mercy, being a 'Non-Telepath' had no immunity to some of the diseases that the Novae were genetically resistant to. Strains of flu, cold, chicken pox, infections, all hit Mercy harder than they did Mike or Vicki.
Diseases like Vorodos, discovered in the late twenty first century, were particularly frightful for Mercy. Vorodos was the result of a mutated strain of flu. Somehow it had grown particularly nasty, and fast acting. It had an incubation period of twelve to twenty four hours. Once in the body, it caused the muscles to grow weak and the heart to slow almost fatally, the lungs filled with fluid, and the trachea began to contract. The digestive system was thrown into havoc, and it rid itself of all fluids or food within it, and violenly too. The immune system worked over time. Fevers became brain-bakingly hot.
And there was no medicine for it. Once the Non-Telepaths had gone into recessions, the Novae saw no reason to keep the medicines for the disease around. Even though it would affect Non-Telepaths, there was no reason for a main-stream majority Novae hospital to ever keep such an outdated medicine in the space where more medicines for real diseases could be kept.
As a result, Mercy would have to suffer through it. Nature would have to take it's course, and she would have to go through the pain and injury inflicted by a disease that the Novae never had to contract.
Cathy, the cat, though she was feline, and her immune system prevented most diseases from ever affecting her, knew about illness. For the two weeks that Mercy was most ill, Cathy did not leave her bedside. She was curled up under Mercy's chin, always awake, protecting her. It was an old lore that cats could sense ill intent and evil. Never before in her entire existance had Cathy ever once shown anything but affection to Vicki.
One day Vicki stole into Mercy's room while she was half-asleep with delirium, barely conscious, but unable to sleep. Cathy's hair stood up on her back. She perched herself as if to pounce. Vicki grew closer, and Cathy hissed at her. The cat set it's ears back and bared it's teeth.
"Cathy!" Vicki exclaimed, startled by the usually kopasetic cat's reaction. She took a step back. Cathy stayed in an attack position, with a low growl her throat. Vicki got closer and closer and just as she was about to reach out and touch Mercy, Cathy slapped at her with her claws. Vicki recoiled and left the room, angry. Yet she never tried to come near Mercy again while she was sick.
For her actions, Vicki had Cathy declawed by a veternarian under the excuse that she was clawing up the furniture. The cat was drugged and her claws snipped off, so that they would never grow back again.
Cathy had paid a high price for her affection and loyalty to Mercy. Yet, the cat never seemed to mind. She made up with Vicki at her earliest opportunity, and continued to guard Mercy's bedside. Without her claws, she resumed her usually silliness, and her usual explorations into uncharted cat territory.
Cathy explored too far one day. She went into territory that was too dangerous.
Mercy came home, to see a very solemn, sick looking Mrs. Vicki. Mercy knew, without any empathy, that something was seriously wrong. It was then that Mike, in the gentlest manner possible, told her that Cathy was gone. A neighbour's dog had been too playful, and Cathy had been too weak. Mike had been there to see it. The lovely black cat, soaked with sweat, drool, and blood being shaken in the dogs mouth like a rag doll. Her body was dead weight, and against the smooth blackness, red and pink flesh showed. The eyes were still open, and the life from them was gone. They were just void, green marbles.
In an instant, all of the hard-learned emotional control that Mercy had was gone. She called Mike a liar, and then she fled to her room. She didn't cry, though, she rocked, holding her doll to her chest, praying that a large, fuzzy, purring mass would come to ease the trauma.
Cathy never came back. Mercy learned to survive, but not without scars. The peace that Cathy had brought to Mercy would never be restored. What promises, whatever hope she had for the future were dead a buried with Cathy. They laid shattered on the floor, like a broken mirror, reflecting back bits and pieces of an image; the image of what she could have been.
The future was dark, but there was history to be considered. History which did not speak well of Mercy's kind. History which stayed behind Mercy, ominous, dark like death. Yet, somehow there was good in history, but they refused to let any of good side show through. From the time Mercy took her first history class until she got out of school, she heard about nothing but the evils of Saps. She heard the endless lists of atrocities listed one by one. No speaking of Eden Act or the March to the Stars, no, only of the wrongs of Saps. For hours on end, in a water torture like fashion, Mercy listened as they counted the sins of the past.
Her teacher, Don Rowe considered himself a historian, and a fair, unbiased historian. However, there was no way he could teach history to a class of sophomores without talking about how cruel the SOTHR had been to the Novae so many years ago. It was an ugly time, and one that was to be remembered to respect those that suffered. Yet, they had won over. It was easy to teach it as the wonderful, innocent Novae overcoming the harsh, brutish SOTHR and never think what happened to the Saps after the Novae won. It was easy to justify the Eden Act. It was easy to make it seem as though the dwindling numbers of 'Non-Telepaths' was the fault of the 'Non-Telepaths' themselves.
It wasn't the truth. The truth was ugly. And in the end, both sides had committed atrocities. Only, this time, there was no one to apologise to. In one lifetime, the enemy of his father, his father's father, and his father's father's father would be forever erased. Extinct. The original human race would be extinct.
He had the duty of teaching the last member of this dying species about history; history in which she was given the shortest end of the stick. There were times when he wondered why they even bothered to put her in school. The entire point of Mercy's life was her death. She was not born to make a difference, or help anyone. Mercy's death would be what all of her years of torture culminated to. Mercy was born only to die, and die with people dancing on her grave.
"So, the SOTHR began what we call the period of the 'Involuntary Exodus'. Most of the Novae sent off world never came back." Mr. Rowe told his class, putting the book down. For the day he had finished his tale of Sap cruelty, but tomorrow, there would be more reaming to do.
"That was really mean. I don't see how anyone could be evil enough to do that. Then again the Saps were pretty wicked." Said Marmaduke, the boy that Mercy had kissed in kindergarten.
"Not all the 'Non-Telepaths' were bad, right, Mr. Rowe?" Mercy asked, pleading for some sort of reprieve from the angry, hateful faces and the snide telepathic comments that she knew were going around.
"There were a few who tried to help, but most were with the SOTHR." In the end, Mr. Rowe had done her no service.
"But they weren't evil, just misled." Mercy seemed to be pleading for help, help that Mr. Rowe wouldn't give her.
"They were evil." Mr. Rowe stated and Mercy made a decision. She couldn't stand by and let Mr. Rowe denigrate her ancestors like that. All of the years of torture came surging back. Every ounce of the lies, the hatred, and the anger began to boil in her blood. The voice of every teacher, every student, every hateful enemy came screaming into her head.
"That's not a fact! History is facts! You're *not* teaching history, sir!" She argued. "How can you call them evil! If the Saps are evil, then the Novae are evil, because we all came from the same origins!"
"Oh shut up!" Marmaduke whined, angrily, throwing a spitball at her. Soon enough she was being assailed by an onslaught of spitballs. The students picked up her back pack, and began to toss her things around. Mercy could only stand there helplessly. They stole her lunch credits out of her purse, and raided her possesions. She stood before the class, with a calm face. Her blue/gold eyes were hurt, but she did not say anything. In that one second, in the drop of her head as she resigned they all felt a pang of conscience. With the defeated sigh they knew they had won. There was no satisfaction to be found. They knew what they had done. They had become what they hated.
"Young lady, go to the office." Mr. Rowe said, and in a final act of pity, handed her a matter transporter.
She brought the note from the principal home to Vicki. It was probably the hardest thing she'd ever done in her life. She sat on the stool, while Vicki paced as she read the note. The more she read, the angrier she got. Mercy's chest got tight, her stomach was wild with anxiety and fear. She even began to get light headed and dizzy with dread.
"How could you?" Vicki asked, furiously, "How could you be so disrespectful? Did I teach you no better than that? You are grounded! No vids, no trips to the library, nothing! I am taking that matter transporter. And you are going to apologise to Mr. Rowe!"
Dutifully, Mercy handed over her matter transporter. She felt like crying, but she wouldn't. She kept her face at a well schooled neutral, though the drooping corners of her mouth betrayed her.
"I'm sorry, mum!" She called out before she could stop herself, and then she cupped her hands over her mouth in shock. She couldn't believe what she had just called Mrs. Vicki. Something in her had cried out for Mrs. Vicki to admit that she was Mercy's mother figure. A desperate want had fulfilled itself in that word, a word she had never known in it's fullness. "What did you just call me?" Vicki asked, with angry confusion boiling in her eyes.
"Mum. I didn't mean it, Mrs. Vicki, honestly," Mercy pleaded, but Vicki was too outraged.
"I am not your mother and I never will be! Your mother was a Sap whore who died because she saw what a freak she gave birth to! You are a Sap, and you can never be my child! You are a stupid, evil, worthless Sap and you always will be! You disgust me!"
Vicki kept screaming at her, and Mercy started to cry. All of her hopes that one day Mrs. Vicki would like her, all of her aspirations of making Mrs. Vicki proud were permanently shattered. Like Cathy, anything she had left to dream for was dead. Each time Vicki screeched the word 'Sap' it sliced like a knife, like the claws that Cathy had used to protect her. But Cathy wasn't there to save her from Vicki. Mercy was too confused and hurt to do anything but sit there as each scream felt like a she was being slugged by a prize fighter.
Mr. Mike got home, and could say nothing. He knew what sort of trauma Mercy had just endured. He heard his wife calling her horrid names that he dared never repeat. He just watched, avoiding Mercy's pleading eyes. He could not bear to look into those glassy blue eyes that were flecked with most extraordinary gold. He listened as Vicki told Mercy how horrible she was. Never once did he interrupt Vicki never once did he try to help Mercy.
The sharp pain of Vicki's words was replaced by a deep, rumbling hurt. Vicki hated her and Mike would not help her. Mike had been in the position to save her from this, to stop Vicki, and to help her when she had no way to help herself. And he did nothing. It was that one second in time when Mercy felt her entire being shatter with despair. That one second when nothing in the world could comfort her. There was no where to turn to.
"She's my wife, luv, I'm sorry." Mr. Mike said, leaving Mercy to weep, unconsolably in the kitchen. The look in his eyes was that of an apology he would never admit to. He was admitting that he truly had given up on her.
She wanted to run as far away from her house as she could, but where on Earth could Mercy go? Once Mike had admitted he no longer cared, there was no placed on Earth left for her.
Mercy went on with life, marching like a soldier, though she didn't know why. Maybe it was the pain driving her on, hoping to find solace. Perhaps it was the desperation to make Vicki love her. Or perhaps she wanted to live, even with her despair.
She came into Mr. Rowe's history class, with her head down. She was trembling, shaking with both fear and despair. She was cold, yet her skin burned like fire. Her eyes lost their lustre. She was pale and sickly looking. She was like a fighter defeated and broken and tamed. She was an unhappy but obedient dog on a leash. Mostly, she was a sorry sight to see.
"You okay?" He asked her, as she left class. She looked up from the floor, and met his eyes. She felt nothing now, she was too numb to even care.
"The world was wrong long before I was born, and will be wrong long after I die. Why does it matter?" She asked, cryptically and left. Something about that would forever haunt Don Rowe. There was some part of it that could never be erased from his mind. Maybe it was the despair and brokeness in her voice. Maybe it was the honest, simple statement. Maybe it was a combination of the two. Either way, he could never forget what she said.
Mercy had been told by Mr. Mike and Mrs. Vicki many times that time and tide would wait for no one. They were only partially correct. Time and tide and _death_ would wait for no one. Death would not wait for her to make amends with Mr. Mike after a permanent rift had grown between them. Death did not wait for her to be ready. Death came and took Mr. Mike.
Around the corner, Death would lie in wait for Mrs. Vicki. Yet Death would creep visibly closer with each day. First, Vicki began to forget simple things, like where her jaunting belts were. Then she began to experience health problems, degenerative ones. Her bones could be healed when she fell, and her spine could be given corrective treatment for any beginnings of ostoperosis. Yet it did not stop her body from decaying. With every year that she got older, she grew more and more feeble. Until at last she was in Mercy's good hands, because no one else would care for her.
Vicki resented Mercy, and with her senility, she forgot that she'd made a solemn vow to be tolerant of Mercy. She no longer would let Mercy go one day without reminding her that she was a Sap and a brute. Yet Mercy smiled at Mrs. Vicki. Though they never did see eye to eye, Mrs. Vicki had taken care of her. So Mercy felt it was her duty to care for Mrs. Vicki.
"You are a Sap..." Vicki hissed through the oxygen mask. Mrs. Vicki's lungs were weak, and she needed the mask constantly. She could no longer live without it. It took great strength for her to say words. "Yet you have cared for me..." she breathed in with a wheeze that sounded painful, "How stupid of you, but how kind..."
The hatred, the resentment that burned in Vicki's eyes died with that one statement. Vicki saw the end coming. She could just see the long pale arm of death beginning to wrap around her. She looked and her friends were not there, her husband was not there, even her brothers and sisters who were still alive were not there. Everyone else had left her or they had died. Yet the person she despised most, the monster she had never learned to love was there, taking care of her.
"Mrs. Vicki, rest now. You want to look good tomorrow. You need beauty sleep." Mercy said gently, tucking Vicki in, and leaving the old woman to rest. And in the night she died, and the peace that had been taken away from her when she was a child was finally restored.
The shattered spirit had been glued together again, and Mercy felt strangely whole.
Nature was cruel, and soon the same slow process of dying began to take it's toll on Mercy, her hair was grey and the auburn dulled. Yet, the blue and gold never faded, not even in her age. So many dreams had been broken. She did not ever live a comfortable life, and almost no one would hire her. When she signed job applications, she had to tell them that she was a 'Non-Telepath'. So, the job she finally got, and stayed with for twenty five years was one with the city. She worked at the Waste Removal and Renewal Centre. She had no lover, no children, only a stray cat that she fed and named Wendie.
Retirement brought Mercy no peace. She lived in a slum area, with other poor, unfortunate souls. Still, somehow, she managed to find her little joys in life. One of these joys happened to be her daily walk around to the park near her home. She'd smell the flowers, and enjoy the air.
Mercy went on her usual morning walk, tying her greyed auburn hair into a neat bun. She kept herself at brisk pace, hoping to keep in shape. She had a dress to fit into for Easter Sunday.
The park was filled with children and parents, even at this early hour. Yet, something didn't seem right to Mercy. She scanned the park, and there, stood a man with a gun. He was a Nova, because of the mark on his skull where a Depressor Helmet had been. Only those with 'Empathic-Claustro Disorder' wore them, and usually only in severe cases. His gun was pointed at a small child, trying to get another part of the playground. He was crazy, and there was no reasoning with him. Somehow the loss of the 'pacifism instinct' had driven him insane. He was insane enough to take a child's life, just to see if he could. If only to see if he could or could not kill, that man would.
He raised the gun, and Mercy raced towards the small child, and knocked the child down, but not before the shot tore through her. She felt it sear through her flesh as she hit ground. Yet she saw the boy, unharmed and the pain meant nothing. Horrified people looked on as they saw Mercy lying there, shot, and the little boy beside her, crying.
A man raced to the little boy first, kissing him, rejoicing that he was okay. Then he looked down to the woman. Something was familiar about those blue and gold eyes.
"Who are you?" He asked, reaching his mind out to comfort hers, in her pain. "Mercy?"
"Marmaduke Damon." She said, hoarsely. She started coughing, painfully.
"You saved my grandson, Mercy, thank you." He thanked her, kneeling next to her, while he heard someone call for help in the background. "I'm sorry that they were, so mean to you. You were a good person, even if the Saps weren't."
"I forgive them, Marmaduke. They were good at heart."
"Mercy, is there anything I can do?"
"No. I proved that I was not just born to die. I saved your grandson's life. I did something good while I was still alive. I'll get no more. "
"Bless you, Mercy."
Under the cool April sky, six large men who were hired bore Mercy to her grave. Aside from John, Adam, Megabyte (who was coincidentally the son of Justina Redmond), Kevin, Kenny, and the last paulbearer, Stephen, only three people followed: Marmaduke, his grandson, and a priest.
"Would anyone like to say a few words about the deceased?" The priest asked, looking at the three black-clad mourners. Marmaduke raised his hand.
"Mercy Dawn Hunter was born innocent, and despite everything, she died innocent. She is not evil or bad. She was brave, honest, and compassionate. And though we treated her badly, she didn't speak bad of us. Mostly, she was Mercy." Marmaduke said, and after a long silence.
"Kyrie Eleison, Christe Eleison." The priest finished, with a blessing that meant 'God have mercy, Christ have mercy.' And then he realised that the entire species of homo sapiens had died. With one death an entire species was officially replaced. She had suffered for her ancestors, and had born the weight of their crimes. Yet she proved that despite what those people did, there was still goodness in the heart of humanity, in whatever form it took.
What started with Adam and Eve, had ended with Mercy.
THE END