Singing the Downsizing Blues
Jan. 7th, 2011 12:38 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
badassbooksnakeDavid is five years old when something begins to change.
The Dr Clarks fight all the time now, and they're so noisy David can hear them in his cot, sometimes.
"Our funding has been halved. All because of that bloody good-for-nothing in England!"
"Peter. Peter. Peter, stop it. How can we even consider making another set when we can't figure out why things went wrong the first time!?"
"Another set??" The male Dr Clark snarls. "Like hell I'm going to waste my time making even more defective clones! Semi-clones. We should have just cut our losses when we couldn't fix the telemeres - "
"Peter." The lady Dr Clark snarls back. "You were the one who insisted that we, ah, "make a virtue of necessity , I believe?"
They don't stop fighting after that, but their voices do get lower. David sleeps.
David is seven years old when Dr Clark - the lady doctor Clark, that is - comes over and gives him a hug. The male Dr Clark had disappeared from the base several years ago - one of the guards said that he and the lady Dr Clark had gotten 'divorced', whatever that meant. David was glad the other Dr Clark wasn't around any more - He hadn't liked him very much.
"David David David. You've gotten so big. You're going to Kiddieland today too, right?"
"Yes, Ma'am. Today, I'm supposed to go there from 16:00 to 17:00, with Private Ashly."
"Only an hour? - You know what, David - Today, I'm going to take you there! Is that all right with you?"
David goggled at her. She didn't think that he was going to say no, right?
They walked to the small old amusement park, Private Ashly following behind them.
"You know, David." She said, quietly, sitting on a bench next to him - "Have you ever wanted brothers? Or sisters?"
David stared at her. He wasn't quite sure just what brothers or sisters were supposed to be, frankly. Oh, he knew that the civilians he saw at the park and elsewhere were grouped in units called a 'family', but...
"...Ma'am?"
"Oh, never mind." She sighs. "The thing is, David - Our funding is going to be cut even more, it seems, and that means that we might have to move. - It's probably going to be smaller, and shabbier - I don't think there'll be a Kiddieland nearby, either, though I'll have to check about that."
He stared at her. "I see, Ma'am."
Actually, he didn't at all, but.
She sighs, yet again. "Oh, never mind, dear. I just wanted to tell you myself."
David is eleven when Private Ashly grabs him, throws him in a car and hands him a gun and a emergency kit, telling him to keep it safely concealed. People on the Outside don't approve of children with guns, in general, he says.
David doesn't quite get it - He's been training with firearms since he was seven or so, after all.
They wander around the countryside for several days, Private Ashly getting more and more haggard. He eats a Big Mac for the first time in his life, and likes it. Private Ashly laughs and says he likes everything as long as it's remotely edible. It's probably true.
"Seraphim, Seraphim, fucking Project Seraphim - Oh, kid, I'm not supposed to say stuff like that in front of you, but they steal our funding, they steal everything else, and now... Worst Christmas ever."
David doesn't understand everything, but he does understand enough, he thinks. He nods, once.
When they get back, at long last, their current base in half charred and Dr Clark is in a cast, being wheeled around in a wheelchair.
"David! You're all right!"
That night is a special movie night, because Dr Clark says so. Almost everybody in the base crams into the movie room and watches Christmas movies, even though Christmas is over already.
David doesn't mind - He likes Christmas movies, and he'd been rather sad to miss the yearly Christmas movie night. Not that Dr Clark needs any extra excuses to watch movies, but...
They move again, the month after that.
David is almost 14 when the black armored car nearly wrecks itself against their current base's gates.
"...What in the world. David! Why did you let the boy use firearms that would break his hands!?"
Dr Clark is angry, plastered against the car, hands bunched into fists.
David stares for a good long while, till he realizes that the man in the car's name must be 'David', too. Oh, good, it wasn't him being scolded.
"It was an emergency, Para-Medic, I hope you still remember what those things are. Para-Medic, this is James. James, this is Pa - Dr Clark, who will be in charge of you from now on. Do you hear me? James?"
The man swore, and climbed out of his car, heedless of his guards trying to stop him.
"Wake up, James, damn it! I didn't bring you here to - "
'James' is blond, and small, and scrawny, and David can tell that there's something wrong with him, somehow, maybe it's the way he's trying to breath, but the resemblance to himself is apparent. He is also around David's own age.
He turns to have cracked ribs as well as broken hands and burns, and Dr Clark and the medstaff spend hours fussing over him.
David comes over and looks at him later, as he sleeps in the infirmy, and sighs.
Not quite the sibling(s) he'd been looking forward to meeting, but - He'd cope.
It wasn't as if he had a choice.
The Dr Clarks fight all the time now, and they're so noisy David can hear them in his cot, sometimes.
"Our funding has been halved. All because of that bloody good-for-nothing in England!"
"Peter. Peter. Peter, stop it. How can we even consider making another set when we can't figure out why things went wrong the first time!?"
"Another set??" The male Dr Clark snarls. "Like hell I'm going to waste my time making even more defective clones! Semi-clones. We should have just cut our losses when we couldn't fix the telemeres - "
"Peter." The lady Dr Clark snarls back. "You were the one who insisted that we, ah, "make a virtue of necessity , I believe?"
They don't stop fighting after that, but their voices do get lower. David sleeps.
David is seven years old when Dr Clark - the lady doctor Clark, that is - comes over and gives him a hug. The male Dr Clark had disappeared from the base several years ago - one of the guards said that he and the lady Dr Clark had gotten 'divorced', whatever that meant. David was glad the other Dr Clark wasn't around any more - He hadn't liked him very much.
"David David David. You've gotten so big. You're going to Kiddieland today too, right?"
"Yes, Ma'am. Today, I'm supposed to go there from 16:00 to 17:00, with Private Ashly."
"Only an hour? - You know what, David - Today, I'm going to take you there! Is that all right with you?"
David goggled at her. She didn't think that he was going to say no, right?
They walked to the small old amusement park, Private Ashly following behind them.
"You know, David." She said, quietly, sitting on a bench next to him - "Have you ever wanted brothers? Or sisters?"
David stared at her. He wasn't quite sure just what brothers or sisters were supposed to be, frankly. Oh, he knew that the civilians he saw at the park and elsewhere were grouped in units called a 'family', but...
"...Ma'am?"
"Oh, never mind." She sighs. "The thing is, David - Our funding is going to be cut even more, it seems, and that means that we might have to move. - It's probably going to be smaller, and shabbier - I don't think there'll be a Kiddieland nearby, either, though I'll have to check about that."
He stared at her. "I see, Ma'am."
Actually, he didn't at all, but.
She sighs, yet again. "Oh, never mind, dear. I just wanted to tell you myself."
David is eleven when Private Ashly grabs him, throws him in a car and hands him a gun and a emergency kit, telling him to keep it safely concealed. People on the Outside don't approve of children with guns, in general, he says.
David doesn't quite get it - He's been training with firearms since he was seven or so, after all.
They wander around the countryside for several days, Private Ashly getting more and more haggard. He eats a Big Mac for the first time in his life, and likes it. Private Ashly laughs and says he likes everything as long as it's remotely edible. It's probably true.
"Seraphim, Seraphim, fucking Project Seraphim - Oh, kid, I'm not supposed to say stuff like that in front of you, but they steal our funding, they steal everything else, and now... Worst Christmas ever."
David doesn't understand everything, but he does understand enough, he thinks. He nods, once.
When they get back, at long last, their current base in half charred and Dr Clark is in a cast, being wheeled around in a wheelchair.
"David! You're all right!"
That night is a special movie night, because Dr Clark says so. Almost everybody in the base crams into the movie room and watches Christmas movies, even though Christmas is over already.
David doesn't mind - He likes Christmas movies, and he'd been rather sad to miss the yearly Christmas movie night. Not that Dr Clark needs any extra excuses to watch movies, but...
They move again, the month after that.
David is almost 14 when the black armored car nearly wrecks itself against their current base's gates.
"...What in the world. David! Why did you let the boy use firearms that would break his hands!?"
Dr Clark is angry, plastered against the car, hands bunched into fists.
David stares for a good long while, till he realizes that the man in the car's name must be 'David', too. Oh, good, it wasn't him being scolded.
"It was an emergency, Para-Medic, I hope you still remember what those things are. Para-Medic, this is James. James, this is Pa - Dr Clark, who will be in charge of you from now on. Do you hear me? James?"
The man swore, and climbed out of his car, heedless of his guards trying to stop him.
"Wake up, James, damn it! I didn't bring you here to - "
'James' is blond, and small, and scrawny, and David can tell that there's something wrong with him, somehow, maybe it's the way he's trying to breath, but the resemblance to himself is apparent. He is also around David's own age.
He turns to have cracked ribs as well as broken hands and burns, and Dr Clark and the medstaff spend hours fussing over him.
David comes over and looks at him later, as he sleeps in the infirmy, and sighs.
Not quite the sibling(s) he'd been looking forward to meeting, but - He'd cope.
It wasn't as if he had a choice.
