[fic] eyes wide open
TITLE eyes wide open
FANDOM block b
PAIRING b-bomb, jaehyo
SUMMARY Specimen 133-3124704 is the second son of the Lee family. His name is Minhyuk, and he is a clone.
WORDS 4169
RATING pg-13
FOR zqlin @ blockisbang 2014 summer exchange
Specimen 133-3124704 is the second son of the Lee family. Unlike his brother before him, he is not a Natural. He was grown from the DNA cells scavenged from his brother’s body after the accident that took the real son’s life away.
His name is Minhyuk, and he is a clone.
--
In the early 2400s the fourth World War happened, or so says his grandfather. Mother tells him not to listen to his grandfather; he is old, wrinkled and nearing the optimal age of 80 so his mind does not work in the way it once did. Still, his grandfather treats him as though he too were a Natural, and he tells Minhyuk stories of older times when there was music and sunlight and rain.
The city is lit by Cradle who controls everything: water usage, food intake, wake-state and sleep-state, area of study, marriage, production of Perfectum (the newer, shinier models of what Minhyuk is). Minhyuk has never felt rain, never seen real sunlight, but Grandfather describes it to him. He describes everything. Minhyuk likes Grandfather’s stories because, even if at times they are outlandish or silly (man can’t walk on the moon and there is no world left outside Cradle), they seem real. Cradle says that imagination is dangerous, destructive even, so Minhyuk never tells Mother or Father his grandfather’s stories. They are his to keep; they are his to protect long after Grandfather takes the red pill to shut his body down at the optimal age of 80.
Minhyuk knows he is not real, but a substitute. He wonders what the real Minhyuk would have been like, but wondering leads to confusion leads to questions leads to chaos. Besides, he was built in the Original’s likeness, from the moles on his arms and legs to the tiny scar behind his left ear. The Original’s interests are Minhyuk’s, the Original’s likes are Minhyuk’s, and so it goes.
The only difference is: the Original’s heart and blood and skin and bones were his own. Minhyuk lives on borrowed time.
--
Every morning follows the same routine: wake at six o'clock sharp, have breakfast with Mother and Father, bid Father a farewell as he shuffles off to work deeper in cradle, help Mother with the household chores. If during school term, Minhyuk will leave for campus where he studies infrastructure and engineering. If during the break weeks (and there are two every month of the year between school sessions), he will walk his neighborhood streets of Domus or perhaps continue his studies in the library.
Cradle says the mind should always remain busy. If one relaxes, the mind begins to wander and focus is lost. Ideas are formed that could lead to the destruction of this carefully built city. But Cradle is near-indestructible; it can’t be broken, only escaped, and even that is 99.9% unlikely. Cradle has everyone micro-chipped and tracked; if you leave, they will find you.
This is how Cradle controls.
His mother and father are of the Natural generation - people who are rarer and rarer as the days pass. Soon they will take the pills that all Naturals in Cradle do, and in their place a new breed of clones will arise. The clones will never have the luxury of death. Parts will be replaced. Minhyuk could throw himself off Domus’ highest point, break into millions of pieces, but no one would bat an eye. Death doesn't happen to those who aren't even living.
This is how Cradle works.
--
When the nine o’clock news plays and household chores are taken care of, Minhyuk slips away from his home and strolls the monochromatic world around him. The houses are marked by numbers, and they are locked to any who do not belong to that house’s registry. Burglary has been eradicated, and crime rates are at an all-time low. The news reports this near-daily.
Minhyuk passes the same chain-linked fence everyday on his way to the library. It leads to the outer-world of Terra, the last stronghold for the Naturals and the archaic way of life. No one from Domus, or Cradle for that matter, leaves for that place. He could contract diseases, or, worse, ideas from those living there. But the urge to explore is strong; it pulls at his limbs every time he walks this path, and day by day he drifts further and further off the safe walkway and into the unknown.
--
No one sees as he slips through a hole in the fence.
The hole’s placement seems to be beckoning, put there on purpose for someone to stray. Warning bells go off in his head, and he waits just beyond the fence for someone to yell at him. No one speaks, and the police sirens never wail. He breathes out a sigh of relief, muscles relaxing, and when he breathes in even the air here tastes different from inside the Cradle.
He walks away from the familiar gray buildings until he finds safety beneath tall, tall trees. Touching them, they feel real; the bark is cool beneath his fingertips, but not the same coolness the synthetic plants give off in Cradle. It’s more alive than anything inside the city, even himself, and Minhyuk’s mouth twitches up.
“Hi,” a voice calls from his side. It sounds happy, and there’s a distinct accent accompanying his words. He sounds like no one from inside Domus, certainly, and Minhyuk cannot place the lilt as belonging to anyone from Cradle, period.
He looks, but sees no one. The light feels warm and unfamiliar against his skin. Over-top Cradle are wires and so many currents that block out the sky. The coloring is a brilliant blue in Terra, much different than the gray Minhyuk is used to.
“Down here,” the happy voice with the misplaced accent says again, and Minhyuk glances down his nose. He makes out the shape of another boy’s face, pinked from the sun’s glow, and large eyes. His lips form a smile, and it appears friendly; Minhyuk knows better than to trust appearances. “I haven’t seen you before, and I know everyone here. So you must be new or from the city.” He talks and talks, and Minhyuk loses track of his odd-sounding way of speaking. He focuses on the mouth that forms the words instead.
The boy’s lips turn down. Minhyuk blinks, saying, “What?”
He introduces himself as Jaehyo, no numbers attached. Minhyuk supposes he’s a Natural and he must be from Terra. Then, Jaehyo looks at him, expression expectant, and Minhyuk says his own name; he almost says 133-3124704 as is customary in Cradle, but this is not Cradle. Jaehyo launches into words after, topics ranging from the weather to the food he will eat; he even weaves in an anecdote about his best friend, and speaks to him like they are old acquaintances gathering together for a chat.
By the time Jaehyo slows to take a rather large breath, Minhyuk feels like he knows Jaehyo.
“I’m sorry,” Jaehyo says, but Minhyuk sees no reason for him to apologize. The tips of Jaehyo’s ears are pink, and his eyes remain focused on the grass beneath them both. Minhyuk finds the shyness refreshing; in Cradle, everyone is so politely forward. “Once I start talking it’s hard for me to stop. Wow, I probably bored you, huh?”
Minhyuk shrugs. “No, not really.” He doesn't say more than necessary; Jaehyo asked if he were bored, and honestly, Minhyuk is not. It’s hard to be bored in such an overwhelmingly new place where everything is real; a place where everything is living and dying simultaneously.
“What’re you doing here, though?” Jaehyo asks. his eyes grow impossibly wider, and Minhyuk feels his shoulders and back tense under the wide-eyed stare. “I didn't think you were allowed to leave the city.”
Minhyuk feels his own skin heat up. He doesn't know what Jaehyo is thinking because Naturals are wired differently than the people in the city in that they are not wired at all. All their thoughts and feelings are completely their own.
“Are you.” Jaehyo looks over his shoulder, perhaps to see if anyone is around listening in. He pitches his voice lower, softer, and asks: “Are you running away?”
Minhyuk pitches up at that, off the soft ground, and tries to put distance between him and Jaehyo. The way he looks at him, curious and contemplative, makes Minhyuk’s nerve sensors buzz and send alarms to his brain. Get out of here it seems to say; this Natural, this Jaehyo, is dangerous. Minhyuk takes a step back; the sound of real leaves crunching beneath his feet jars him, but he needs to go before someone in Cradle realizes where he is. What if Jaehyo tells? He has heard stories of those working undercover to catch a Non-Compliant.
“No. Please, stop!” Jaehyo calls; he reaches his hand forward, as if to grasp, but he leaves it suspended between them, not touching. “I didn't mean to upset you, I swear, I just say things I shouldn't sometimes.” When Minhyuk glances at him, Jaehyo looks absolutely crestfallen at the prospect of him leaving. Minhyuk steps closer, but he does not sit, still wary of this unreadable Natural.
They remain in complete silence for a while before they both try to break it:
“Yes,” Minhyuk whispers at the same time Jaehyo apologizes once again. Jaehyo stops mid ‘sorry’ to voice his confusion. “What?”
“Yes,” Minhyuk repeats, annoyed at having to say it again. Everyone listens in Cradle the first time; there is no need to repeat oneself.
Jaehyo looks up at him. The sunlight casts the patterns of tree-leaves across Jaehyo’s face. It’s compelling to look at him under this particular setting. “You’re running away?” he asks cautiously. Minhyuk frowns and nods; the Cradle says that Naturals have low comprehension skills. Jaehyo’s smile wanes, and he bites his bottom lip. “Isn't that… dangerous? Well, I mean. It’s happened before. Kwonnie says that a lot of you cross the fence in a year’s time.”
He continues to say more, but Minhyuk, despite Cradle’s codes of conduct and conversation etiquette, rushes to ask: “There are others?”
And Jaehyo launches into conversation again, words coming in a rush, grasping at a chance to tell more stories. Minhyuk listens attentively because when Jaehyo speaks it’s quite like his grandfather. Grandfather took the red pill on Minhyuk’s twelfth cycle; he supposes in Natural terms it would be ‘birthday’. Minhyuk’s been missing stories like these for four cycles now, so he practically inhales every word Jaehyo says.
There is someone on Terra who could help him run away.
--
At the end of Jaehyo’s tales Minhyuk says: “I have to go.” It’s getting late; he will be needed back at his home for his nightly rituals and family time.
“Will you come back?” Jaehyo asks after a while in silence. The sun is sinking below the treetops and everything is cast in a golden hue. “Tomorrow?”
Minhyuk thinks about it. He could already be in so much trouble. The bots have probably noticed his absence and have informed Mother and Father. He has never experienced the memory-cleanse therapy, never wanted to, but he knows that this is what fate has in store for him if he is found out - along with hours of rewiring. It’s the closest thing to death a clone can achieve. Still, though, he would love to sit here again with this Natural boy named Jaehyo despite every instinct warning him not to come here again.
He should forget this wide-eyed Natural and his stories of freedom. But Minhyuk is programmed exactly like the Original, and the Original had been prone to ruin as well.
So, Minhyuk nods. “Yes, tomorrow.”
--
On one of his grandfather’s final days he had spoken what he had called a lullaby.
When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall,
And down will come baby, cradle and all
Minhyuk remembers it; the sound hasn't died in the four cycles Grandfather has been gone.
--
His mother and father discuss the news over breakfast a few mornings after. Minhyuk has successfully met with Jaehyo everyday with no one so much as batting an eyelash. He remains careful, though, always covering his tracks; he’s learned to take his study materials with him so that if anyone asks he can use the excuse. He does study, though, and he teaches Jaehyo physics and components. The school Jaehyo attends is closed for the winter session.
“They shut down another rebellion yesterday morning, dear,” his father says.
His mother nods. “Another group of Naturals, I hear. They should learn to accept how fortunate they are here in Cradle instead of causing problems.”
This, too, is routine. When asked of his opinion, Minhyuk nods along and agrees with his parents. They are a product of Cradle’s mind control: Naturals who have been spoon-fed Cradle’s beliefs and promises, no longer free-thinking like the Naturals in Terra.
“I’m leaving,” Minhyuk says after breakfast.
His mother glances over her shoulder at him as she goes about her morning duties. His mother cleans in the morning and switches with his father in the evening; this is to promote equality in domesticity. She smiles at him, and her cheek dimples. This is seen as an imperfection now, but Minhyuk had been customized with his mother’s dimples sixteen years ago when the whole cloning process had been new. The original Minhyuk had not had any such qualities.
“Studying again?” She asks, but this is rhetorical. She turns her back to him and says: “It’s nice to see you so busy, but you've always been such a smart boy. School session will start soon, too, so you will be more than prepared.”
Her back is turned so he doesn't nod. He slips outside, hearing the metallic clink! of the automated door sliding into place after him. He proceeds to Terra, to Jaehyo.
--
During school session he pays little attention to the man on the telecast. These are things he has already studied with Jaehyo in their spot beneath the large oak trees. He spends his time daydreaming about Terra, how real bark feels and how wet the grass is in the early morning hours beneath his bare feet, how no one is programmed a certain way. He mostly thinks of Jaehyo.
--
The first day of his after-school break, he spends in the library as he promised his mother. He searches for new books on new topics; none too drastic from his prior study interests so as to not arouse suspicions. The computer checks him out.
The next day Jaehyo greets him as though they’d been parted for years rather than a few measly weeks. Still, Minhyuk also buzzes with excitement at being in his secret place again with someone he can actually trust. Jaehyo with his strange way of speaking and large eyes makes it easy to rely on him, to befriend him. Minhyuk reveals the process in which he was born - always a sensitive topic for him to reflect on because to everyone in Cradle he is just a replacement; to Jaehyo, Minhyuk has always been Minhyuk.
Jaehyo teaches him a song. It’s soft, low. Jaehyo’s face contorts when he sings; he screws his eyes shut and his mouth falls open. Minhyuk watches silently and catalogs this memory for later. He will ask Jaehyo one day, when he knows for sure he can trust him, if Jaehyo will sing the words to Grandfather’s lullaby.
--
Weeks pass. The air in Cradle grows turbulent. It’s harder to sneak into Terra with the recent patrols happening. The lower-class individuals of Cradle - the Naturals who revolt and those who sympathize with them - have been quite vocal in the recent months. Minhyuk listens for more information; Mother and Father gossip and judge.
Cradle suggests there be a Purge, something that has happened only once and years before Minhyuk was developed. Mother and Father do not divulge any information, lips drawn so tight it’s as if they’re sewn that way, and Grandfather has been in permasleep for four cycles. Minhyuk seeks out Jaehyo who comforts him by knowing nothing of the situation in Cradle, teaching him new songs, telling him stories of these other Naturals he lives with, being himself.
--
The next time he sees Jaehyo, stretched out beneath the shedding leaves, Minhyuk stops, struck by the sight. Jaehyo cracks one eye open, and his lips stretch into a smile. Minhyuk wonders what it might feel like beneath his own lips.
So, Minhyuk kisses him. Jaehyo's smile grows beneath his own, and.
It feels wonderful.
--
His mother catches him humming one morning. By evening, after he has rolled around the grassy floor of Terra with Jaehyo, Mother and Father are waiting, angry lines marring Father's face and Mother's eyes shining.
"Where were you?" Mother asks, voice so quiet that he can barely hear her over his own breathing.
Minhyuk waits the correct amount of time before answering. Five seconds. Long enough so that he doesn't seem as though he's lying, and short enough so as to not look as though he is thinking of an excuse. "Studying," says Minhyuk.
"Bullshit," his father says. No one in Cradle argues or raises his or her voice in such a way. Mother gasps, a choked little sound. "Where were you?" No one in Cradle repeats him or herself, but yet Father is doing so.
Minhyuk sighs. "With a friend," he says, and he leaves it at that. It is no lie; Jaehyo is his friend.
Father still appears suspicious. His mouth thins into a displeased line, and his brows furrow. It's as though he is trying to read into Minhyuk's soul, into his very basic lines of code, and figure him out. Too bad, Minhyuk thinks; he's already rewriting himself into someone new, another version of the son his parents lost long ago. There is no more Perfectum model 133-3124704; there is no longer a Lee Minhyuk.
--
Minhyuk fights temptation for the following days of his break. He studies in the library at nine; he arrives home at noon to watch the evening news with Mother. He excuses himself until six so that he may study in his room. Mother smiles brighter when he offers to help her set the table, and Father’s shoulders relax as he scans the newspaper. More riots; more of Cradle’s propaganda.
“It’s good to see you back to normal,” Father says over dinner. It’s the same porridge they have had every night since Minhyuk’s development. It’s the same porridge everyone in Domus, in Cradle, eats at exactly seven o’clock.
Mother hushes him, smiling. “Let’s not talk about that, dear,” she says. She switches topics to his father’s work day, and then it ventures into the public protest near the heart of Cradle.
Minhyuk listens with the amount of polite interest dictated by Cradle’s standard or etiquette. He wonders what Jaehyo is doing.
--
They do not meet for another month. It’s cold in Terra, but Domus maintains a constant temperature year round. Jaehyo offers him chocolates - “as a birthday gift, of course,” he supplies. Minhyuk’s creation date is the same as that of the real Minhyuk’s birthday. Mother and Father gifted him new books; Grandfather always offered a new story from the Old Days, but he cannot do that any longer.
They speak of running away, something that hasn't been touched on since Minhyuk’s first stumble into this strange other world.
“Won’t you miss them?” Jaehyo asks. His nose rests along Minhyuk’s collar; it’s cold and red, but Jaehyo’s lips and breath are warm. “Your family, I mean?”
Minhyuk supposes he should miss them, and maybe a part of him - a part that is still wholly the Original’s - will miss Mother and Father. But they are the Original’s parents, not his own, and they are too corrupted by Cradle’s disease to save. There must be something telling on his face because Jaehyo’s eyes look so, so sad and shiny. Minhyuk kisses him to make him smile again.
--
Jaehyo shows him his home the next visit. “Just in case,” he whispers against the skin of Minhyuk’s neck. The smell of fresh citrus and the earth sends heat from his belly to the ends of his fingers and toes. It’s not enough to just touch Jaehyo, or smell him, or see him.
He wants to be with him, always.
--
Mother’s smile appears plastic when he arrives home that evening. She says nothing to him more than the standard greeting, questions about his studying, and reminds him when dinner is. As if he’ll forget. Meal times are regulated and never happen later than the schedule instructs. He supposes maybe this makes Mother feel better, though, and he lets her remind him without any fuss.
They have dinner together. The porridge tastes even more bland tonight than the night before, but perhaps it has always been this way. Nothing tastes as appetizing as the orange slices Jaehyo pressed against the seam of his lips, or the citrus kisses that followed. Father and Mother make small talk at the table, and Minhyuk pitches in every now and then; it’s rehashed from the morning news anyway. Minhyuk feels like their entire life is a lie; Minhyuk knows his entire life is a lie.
When he retires to his room, the smell of Jaehyo still lingers in the creases of his arms.
--
He hears his parents speaking in quiet, low voices late in the night. Cradle sets curfew for ten at night, and Minhyuk’s digital alarm blinks 12 in angry red lines back at him. He concentrates on the sound of their words, but they speak too softly. He can make out his name only.
It is then that he realizes it is no longer safe here.
--
He does not meet with Jaehyo the next day. He watches his mother closely as she goes about her housework. Jaehyo says that the women on Terra work jobs similar to those the men have. Minhyuk wonders if Mother likes pretending.
He studies while she watches the news. She makes no comments about the angry revolts happening in other districts of Cradle. When will it be Domus’ turn, he thinks, but these are words he will not say aloud. Mother brushes her fingers through his synthetic hair, nails light against his scalp, and he leans back into her touch.
She says, “I love you so much, Minhyukie,” for the first time in all his cycles since development. “Do you love me, too?” she asks, and her voice shakes on the last word. If Minhyuk looks back, he suspects she might be crying. Her fingers tighten in his hair, but whether or not it’s intentional is up for debate.
And Minhyuk supposes she wants him to answer in the affirmative. The Original would love his mother, yes? So, Minhyuk says, “Of course,” and they leave it at that.
--
By morning, Domus is on fire.
--
The alarms are ringing, pounding, shaking. Everywhere is smoke and fire and screaming. Minhyuk helps his mother out of their home, and she collapses against his side while they take it in. Father stands, yelling indistinguishably, before them. Mother reaches for him. Domus is burning, and beyond that, further into the horizon, even the heart of Cradle has been overtaken by flames. It looks like the sun setting against Terra’s trees, golden-orange and far too bright.
He darts out into the streets, passed his shouting father and trembling mother, and runs to his secret exit away from this crumbling city. Mother shouts after him: “Minhyuk, come back! Minhyukie, please!” but she is calling for the son who is no longer there. The Minhyuk she cries for is buried somewhere within Cradle’s labyrinth, cold and sleeping just like Grandfather, and is never coming back.
Minhyuk slips through the hole in the fence, and he doesn't look back.
--
Minhyuk remembers:
When the bough breaks, the Cradle will fall,
And down will come baby, Cradle and all
--
In a few months Cradle will be rebuilt. Stronger, sturdier, stricter. The hole in the fence will be mended. Minhyuk will never be able to return to his station as Perfectum model 133-3124704. Minhyuk will never want to return anyway. The ugliness will never fade, though, and there will be a new model 133-3124704 issued to replace him. They will say he was destroyed in the wreckage, and his parts could not be salvaged. Mother and Father will buy this lie even though they had seen him leave on the night of Cradle’s downfall. It’s easier to trust Cradle than to question.
And the old version of 133-3124707 will take the name of Minhyuk. No longer the second son of the Lee family; no longer a replacement part.
He will be Minhyuk, and that is all he will ever have to be again.
--
notes
zqlin, thank you again for all the amazing prompts! i had the best (and hardest!) time choosing what to write for you! another very special shout-out to my favorite beetleborg for just being awesome and listening to me whine all summer long! the hand-holding and cheering was much appreciated!
→ the prompt called for a dystopia!au or survival of the fittest
→ the idea of the pills and the regulations and basically all of Cradle was taken from this YA novel i read several months/years ago titled Matched
→ the insertion of "rock-a-bye baby" was a last minute decision - one that i think really lended itself well to the overall feel/mood of the story!
→ title borrowed from seven lions’ song “days to come”
→ please check out all the other entries for the summer 2014 exchange at blockisbang! you won't be disappointed!
FANDOM block b
PAIRING b-bomb, jaehyo
SUMMARY Specimen 133-3124704 is the second son of the Lee family. His name is Minhyuk, and he is a clone.
WORDS 4169
RATING pg-13
FOR zqlin @ blockisbang 2014 summer exchange
Specimen 133-3124704 is the second son of the Lee family. Unlike his brother before him, he is not a Natural. He was grown from the DNA cells scavenged from his brother’s body after the accident that took the real son’s life away.
His name is Minhyuk, and he is a clone.
--
In the early 2400s the fourth World War happened, or so says his grandfather. Mother tells him not to listen to his grandfather; he is old, wrinkled and nearing the optimal age of 80 so his mind does not work in the way it once did. Still, his grandfather treats him as though he too were a Natural, and he tells Minhyuk stories of older times when there was music and sunlight and rain.
The city is lit by Cradle who controls everything: water usage, food intake, wake-state and sleep-state, area of study, marriage, production of Perfectum (the newer, shinier models of what Minhyuk is). Minhyuk has never felt rain, never seen real sunlight, but Grandfather describes it to him. He describes everything. Minhyuk likes Grandfather’s stories because, even if at times they are outlandish or silly (man can’t walk on the moon and there is no world left outside Cradle), they seem real. Cradle says that imagination is dangerous, destructive even, so Minhyuk never tells Mother or Father his grandfather’s stories. They are his to keep; they are his to protect long after Grandfather takes the red pill to shut his body down at the optimal age of 80.
Minhyuk knows he is not real, but a substitute. He wonders what the real Minhyuk would have been like, but wondering leads to confusion leads to questions leads to chaos. Besides, he was built in the Original’s likeness, from the moles on his arms and legs to the tiny scar behind his left ear. The Original’s interests are Minhyuk’s, the Original’s likes are Minhyuk’s, and so it goes.
The only difference is: the Original’s heart and blood and skin and bones were his own. Minhyuk lives on borrowed time.
--
Every morning follows the same routine: wake at six o'clock sharp, have breakfast with Mother and Father, bid Father a farewell as he shuffles off to work deeper in cradle, help Mother with the household chores. If during school term, Minhyuk will leave for campus where he studies infrastructure and engineering. If during the break weeks (and there are two every month of the year between school sessions), he will walk his neighborhood streets of Domus or perhaps continue his studies in the library.
Cradle says the mind should always remain busy. If one relaxes, the mind begins to wander and focus is lost. Ideas are formed that could lead to the destruction of this carefully built city. But Cradle is near-indestructible; it can’t be broken, only escaped, and even that is 99.9% unlikely. Cradle has everyone micro-chipped and tracked; if you leave, they will find you.
This is how Cradle controls.
His mother and father are of the Natural generation - people who are rarer and rarer as the days pass. Soon they will take the pills that all Naturals in Cradle do, and in their place a new breed of clones will arise. The clones will never have the luxury of death. Parts will be replaced. Minhyuk could throw himself off Domus’ highest point, break into millions of pieces, but no one would bat an eye. Death doesn't happen to those who aren't even living.
This is how Cradle works.
--
When the nine o’clock news plays and household chores are taken care of, Minhyuk slips away from his home and strolls the monochromatic world around him. The houses are marked by numbers, and they are locked to any who do not belong to that house’s registry. Burglary has been eradicated, and crime rates are at an all-time low. The news reports this near-daily.
Minhyuk passes the same chain-linked fence everyday on his way to the library. It leads to the outer-world of Terra, the last stronghold for the Naturals and the archaic way of life. No one from Domus, or Cradle for that matter, leaves for that place. He could contract diseases, or, worse, ideas from those living there. But the urge to explore is strong; it pulls at his limbs every time he walks this path, and day by day he drifts further and further off the safe walkway and into the unknown.
--
No one sees as he slips through a hole in the fence.
The hole’s placement seems to be beckoning, put there on purpose for someone to stray. Warning bells go off in his head, and he waits just beyond the fence for someone to yell at him. No one speaks, and the police sirens never wail. He breathes out a sigh of relief, muscles relaxing, and when he breathes in even the air here tastes different from inside the Cradle.
He walks away from the familiar gray buildings until he finds safety beneath tall, tall trees. Touching them, they feel real; the bark is cool beneath his fingertips, but not the same coolness the synthetic plants give off in Cradle. It’s more alive than anything inside the city, even himself, and Minhyuk’s mouth twitches up.
“Hi,” a voice calls from his side. It sounds happy, and there’s a distinct accent accompanying his words. He sounds like no one from inside Domus, certainly, and Minhyuk cannot place the lilt as belonging to anyone from Cradle, period.
He looks, but sees no one. The light feels warm and unfamiliar against his skin. Over-top Cradle are wires and so many currents that block out the sky. The coloring is a brilliant blue in Terra, much different than the gray Minhyuk is used to.
“Down here,” the happy voice with the misplaced accent says again, and Minhyuk glances down his nose. He makes out the shape of another boy’s face, pinked from the sun’s glow, and large eyes. His lips form a smile, and it appears friendly; Minhyuk knows better than to trust appearances. “I haven’t seen you before, and I know everyone here. So you must be new or from the city.” He talks and talks, and Minhyuk loses track of his odd-sounding way of speaking. He focuses on the mouth that forms the words instead.
The boy’s lips turn down. Minhyuk blinks, saying, “What?”
He introduces himself as Jaehyo, no numbers attached. Minhyuk supposes he’s a Natural and he must be from Terra. Then, Jaehyo looks at him, expression expectant, and Minhyuk says his own name; he almost says 133-3124704 as is customary in Cradle, but this is not Cradle. Jaehyo launches into words after, topics ranging from the weather to the food he will eat; he even weaves in an anecdote about his best friend, and speaks to him like they are old acquaintances gathering together for a chat.
By the time Jaehyo slows to take a rather large breath, Minhyuk feels like he knows Jaehyo.
“I’m sorry,” Jaehyo says, but Minhyuk sees no reason for him to apologize. The tips of Jaehyo’s ears are pink, and his eyes remain focused on the grass beneath them both. Minhyuk finds the shyness refreshing; in Cradle, everyone is so politely forward. “Once I start talking it’s hard for me to stop. Wow, I probably bored you, huh?”
Minhyuk shrugs. “No, not really.” He doesn't say more than necessary; Jaehyo asked if he were bored, and honestly, Minhyuk is not. It’s hard to be bored in such an overwhelmingly new place where everything is real; a place where everything is living and dying simultaneously.
“What’re you doing here, though?” Jaehyo asks. his eyes grow impossibly wider, and Minhyuk feels his shoulders and back tense under the wide-eyed stare. “I didn't think you were allowed to leave the city.”
Minhyuk feels his own skin heat up. He doesn't know what Jaehyo is thinking because Naturals are wired differently than the people in the city in that they are not wired at all. All their thoughts and feelings are completely their own.
“Are you.” Jaehyo looks over his shoulder, perhaps to see if anyone is around listening in. He pitches his voice lower, softer, and asks: “Are you running away?”
Minhyuk pitches up at that, off the soft ground, and tries to put distance between him and Jaehyo. The way he looks at him, curious and contemplative, makes Minhyuk’s nerve sensors buzz and send alarms to his brain. Get out of here it seems to say; this Natural, this Jaehyo, is dangerous. Minhyuk takes a step back; the sound of real leaves crunching beneath his feet jars him, but he needs to go before someone in Cradle realizes where he is. What if Jaehyo tells? He has heard stories of those working undercover to catch a Non-Compliant.
“No. Please, stop!” Jaehyo calls; he reaches his hand forward, as if to grasp, but he leaves it suspended between them, not touching. “I didn't mean to upset you, I swear, I just say things I shouldn't sometimes.” When Minhyuk glances at him, Jaehyo looks absolutely crestfallen at the prospect of him leaving. Minhyuk steps closer, but he does not sit, still wary of this unreadable Natural.
They remain in complete silence for a while before they both try to break it:
“Yes,” Minhyuk whispers at the same time Jaehyo apologizes once again. Jaehyo stops mid ‘sorry’ to voice his confusion. “What?”
“Yes,” Minhyuk repeats, annoyed at having to say it again. Everyone listens in Cradle the first time; there is no need to repeat oneself.
Jaehyo looks up at him. The sunlight casts the patterns of tree-leaves across Jaehyo’s face. It’s compelling to look at him under this particular setting. “You’re running away?” he asks cautiously. Minhyuk frowns and nods; the Cradle says that Naturals have low comprehension skills. Jaehyo’s smile wanes, and he bites his bottom lip. “Isn't that… dangerous? Well, I mean. It’s happened before. Kwonnie says that a lot of you cross the fence in a year’s time.”
He continues to say more, but Minhyuk, despite Cradle’s codes of conduct and conversation etiquette, rushes to ask: “There are others?”
And Jaehyo launches into conversation again, words coming in a rush, grasping at a chance to tell more stories. Minhyuk listens attentively because when Jaehyo speaks it’s quite like his grandfather. Grandfather took the red pill on Minhyuk’s twelfth cycle; he supposes in Natural terms it would be ‘birthday’. Minhyuk’s been missing stories like these for four cycles now, so he practically inhales every word Jaehyo says.
There is someone on Terra who could help him run away.
--
At the end of Jaehyo’s tales Minhyuk says: “I have to go.” It’s getting late; he will be needed back at his home for his nightly rituals and family time.
“Will you come back?” Jaehyo asks after a while in silence. The sun is sinking below the treetops and everything is cast in a golden hue. “Tomorrow?”
Minhyuk thinks about it. He could already be in so much trouble. The bots have probably noticed his absence and have informed Mother and Father. He has never experienced the memory-cleanse therapy, never wanted to, but he knows that this is what fate has in store for him if he is found out - along with hours of rewiring. It’s the closest thing to death a clone can achieve. Still, though, he would love to sit here again with this Natural boy named Jaehyo despite every instinct warning him not to come here again.
He should forget this wide-eyed Natural and his stories of freedom. But Minhyuk is programmed exactly like the Original, and the Original had been prone to ruin as well.
So, Minhyuk nods. “Yes, tomorrow.”
--
On one of his grandfather’s final days he had spoken what he had called a lullaby.
When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall,
And down will come baby, cradle and all
Minhyuk remembers it; the sound hasn't died in the four cycles Grandfather has been gone.
--
His mother and father discuss the news over breakfast a few mornings after. Minhyuk has successfully met with Jaehyo everyday with no one so much as batting an eyelash. He remains careful, though, always covering his tracks; he’s learned to take his study materials with him so that if anyone asks he can use the excuse. He does study, though, and he teaches Jaehyo physics and components. The school Jaehyo attends is closed for the winter session.
“They shut down another rebellion yesterday morning, dear,” his father says.
His mother nods. “Another group of Naturals, I hear. They should learn to accept how fortunate they are here in Cradle instead of causing problems.”
This, too, is routine. When asked of his opinion, Minhyuk nods along and agrees with his parents. They are a product of Cradle’s mind control: Naturals who have been spoon-fed Cradle’s beliefs and promises, no longer free-thinking like the Naturals in Terra.
“I’m leaving,” Minhyuk says after breakfast.
His mother glances over her shoulder at him as she goes about her morning duties. His mother cleans in the morning and switches with his father in the evening; this is to promote equality in domesticity. She smiles at him, and her cheek dimples. This is seen as an imperfection now, but Minhyuk had been customized with his mother’s dimples sixteen years ago when the whole cloning process had been new. The original Minhyuk had not had any such qualities.
“Studying again?” She asks, but this is rhetorical. She turns her back to him and says: “It’s nice to see you so busy, but you've always been such a smart boy. School session will start soon, too, so you will be more than prepared.”
Her back is turned so he doesn't nod. He slips outside, hearing the metallic clink! of the automated door sliding into place after him. He proceeds to Terra, to Jaehyo.
--
During school session he pays little attention to the man on the telecast. These are things he has already studied with Jaehyo in their spot beneath the large oak trees. He spends his time daydreaming about Terra, how real bark feels and how wet the grass is in the early morning hours beneath his bare feet, how no one is programmed a certain way. He mostly thinks of Jaehyo.
--
The first day of his after-school break, he spends in the library as he promised his mother. He searches for new books on new topics; none too drastic from his prior study interests so as to not arouse suspicions. The computer checks him out.
The next day Jaehyo greets him as though they’d been parted for years rather than a few measly weeks. Still, Minhyuk also buzzes with excitement at being in his secret place again with someone he can actually trust. Jaehyo with his strange way of speaking and large eyes makes it easy to rely on him, to befriend him. Minhyuk reveals the process in which he was born - always a sensitive topic for him to reflect on because to everyone in Cradle he is just a replacement; to Jaehyo, Minhyuk has always been Minhyuk.
Jaehyo teaches him a song. It’s soft, low. Jaehyo’s face contorts when he sings; he screws his eyes shut and his mouth falls open. Minhyuk watches silently and catalogs this memory for later. He will ask Jaehyo one day, when he knows for sure he can trust him, if Jaehyo will sing the words to Grandfather’s lullaby.
--
Weeks pass. The air in Cradle grows turbulent. It’s harder to sneak into Terra with the recent patrols happening. The lower-class individuals of Cradle - the Naturals who revolt and those who sympathize with them - have been quite vocal in the recent months. Minhyuk listens for more information; Mother and Father gossip and judge.
Cradle suggests there be a Purge, something that has happened only once and years before Minhyuk was developed. Mother and Father do not divulge any information, lips drawn so tight it’s as if they’re sewn that way, and Grandfather has been in permasleep for four cycles. Minhyuk seeks out Jaehyo who comforts him by knowing nothing of the situation in Cradle, teaching him new songs, telling him stories of these other Naturals he lives with, being himself.
--
The next time he sees Jaehyo, stretched out beneath the shedding leaves, Minhyuk stops, struck by the sight. Jaehyo cracks one eye open, and his lips stretch into a smile. Minhyuk wonders what it might feel like beneath his own lips.
So, Minhyuk kisses him. Jaehyo's smile grows beneath his own, and.
It feels wonderful.
--
His mother catches him humming one morning. By evening, after he has rolled around the grassy floor of Terra with Jaehyo, Mother and Father are waiting, angry lines marring Father's face and Mother's eyes shining.
"Where were you?" Mother asks, voice so quiet that he can barely hear her over his own breathing.
Minhyuk waits the correct amount of time before answering. Five seconds. Long enough so that he doesn't seem as though he's lying, and short enough so as to not look as though he is thinking of an excuse. "Studying," says Minhyuk.
"Bullshit," his father says. No one in Cradle argues or raises his or her voice in such a way. Mother gasps, a choked little sound. "Where were you?" No one in Cradle repeats him or herself, but yet Father is doing so.
Minhyuk sighs. "With a friend," he says, and he leaves it at that. It is no lie; Jaehyo is his friend.
Father still appears suspicious. His mouth thins into a displeased line, and his brows furrow. It's as though he is trying to read into Minhyuk's soul, into his very basic lines of code, and figure him out. Too bad, Minhyuk thinks; he's already rewriting himself into someone new, another version of the son his parents lost long ago. There is no more Perfectum model 133-3124704; there is no longer a Lee Minhyuk.
--
Minhyuk fights temptation for the following days of his break. He studies in the library at nine; he arrives home at noon to watch the evening news with Mother. He excuses himself until six so that he may study in his room. Mother smiles brighter when he offers to help her set the table, and Father’s shoulders relax as he scans the newspaper. More riots; more of Cradle’s propaganda.
“It’s good to see you back to normal,” Father says over dinner. It’s the same porridge they have had every night since Minhyuk’s development. It’s the same porridge everyone in Domus, in Cradle, eats at exactly seven o’clock.
Mother hushes him, smiling. “Let’s not talk about that, dear,” she says. She switches topics to his father’s work day, and then it ventures into the public protest near the heart of Cradle.
Minhyuk listens with the amount of polite interest dictated by Cradle’s standard or etiquette. He wonders what Jaehyo is doing.
--
They do not meet for another month. It’s cold in Terra, but Domus maintains a constant temperature year round. Jaehyo offers him chocolates - “as a birthday gift, of course,” he supplies. Minhyuk’s creation date is the same as that of the real Minhyuk’s birthday. Mother and Father gifted him new books; Grandfather always offered a new story from the Old Days, but he cannot do that any longer.
They speak of running away, something that hasn't been touched on since Minhyuk’s first stumble into this strange other world.
“Won’t you miss them?” Jaehyo asks. His nose rests along Minhyuk’s collar; it’s cold and red, but Jaehyo’s lips and breath are warm. “Your family, I mean?”
Minhyuk supposes he should miss them, and maybe a part of him - a part that is still wholly the Original’s - will miss Mother and Father. But they are the Original’s parents, not his own, and they are too corrupted by Cradle’s disease to save. There must be something telling on his face because Jaehyo’s eyes look so, so sad and shiny. Minhyuk kisses him to make him smile again.
--
Jaehyo shows him his home the next visit. “Just in case,” he whispers against the skin of Minhyuk’s neck. The smell of fresh citrus and the earth sends heat from his belly to the ends of his fingers and toes. It’s not enough to just touch Jaehyo, or smell him, or see him.
He wants to be with him, always.
--
Mother’s smile appears plastic when he arrives home that evening. She says nothing to him more than the standard greeting, questions about his studying, and reminds him when dinner is. As if he’ll forget. Meal times are regulated and never happen later than the schedule instructs. He supposes maybe this makes Mother feel better, though, and he lets her remind him without any fuss.
They have dinner together. The porridge tastes even more bland tonight than the night before, but perhaps it has always been this way. Nothing tastes as appetizing as the orange slices Jaehyo pressed against the seam of his lips, or the citrus kisses that followed. Father and Mother make small talk at the table, and Minhyuk pitches in every now and then; it’s rehashed from the morning news anyway. Minhyuk feels like their entire life is a lie; Minhyuk knows his entire life is a lie.
When he retires to his room, the smell of Jaehyo still lingers in the creases of his arms.
--
He hears his parents speaking in quiet, low voices late in the night. Cradle sets curfew for ten at night, and Minhyuk’s digital alarm blinks 12 in angry red lines back at him. He concentrates on the sound of their words, but they speak too softly. He can make out his name only.
It is then that he realizes it is no longer safe here.
--
He does not meet with Jaehyo the next day. He watches his mother closely as she goes about her housework. Jaehyo says that the women on Terra work jobs similar to those the men have. Minhyuk wonders if Mother likes pretending.
He studies while she watches the news. She makes no comments about the angry revolts happening in other districts of Cradle. When will it be Domus’ turn, he thinks, but these are words he will not say aloud. Mother brushes her fingers through his synthetic hair, nails light against his scalp, and he leans back into her touch.
She says, “I love you so much, Minhyukie,” for the first time in all his cycles since development. “Do you love me, too?” she asks, and her voice shakes on the last word. If Minhyuk looks back, he suspects she might be crying. Her fingers tighten in his hair, but whether or not it’s intentional is up for debate.
And Minhyuk supposes she wants him to answer in the affirmative. The Original would love his mother, yes? So, Minhyuk says, “Of course,” and they leave it at that.
--
By morning, Domus is on fire.
--
The alarms are ringing, pounding, shaking. Everywhere is smoke and fire and screaming. Minhyuk helps his mother out of their home, and she collapses against his side while they take it in. Father stands, yelling indistinguishably, before them. Mother reaches for him. Domus is burning, and beyond that, further into the horizon, even the heart of Cradle has been overtaken by flames. It looks like the sun setting against Terra’s trees, golden-orange and far too bright.
He darts out into the streets, passed his shouting father and trembling mother, and runs to his secret exit away from this crumbling city. Mother shouts after him: “Minhyuk, come back! Minhyukie, please!” but she is calling for the son who is no longer there. The Minhyuk she cries for is buried somewhere within Cradle’s labyrinth, cold and sleeping just like Grandfather, and is never coming back.
Minhyuk slips through the hole in the fence, and he doesn't look back.
--
Minhyuk remembers:
When the bough breaks, the Cradle will fall,
And down will come baby, Cradle and all
--
In a few months Cradle will be rebuilt. Stronger, sturdier, stricter. The hole in the fence will be mended. Minhyuk will never be able to return to his station as Perfectum model 133-3124704. Minhyuk will never want to return anyway. The ugliness will never fade, though, and there will be a new model 133-3124704 issued to replace him. They will say he was destroyed in the wreckage, and his parts could not be salvaged. Mother and Father will buy this lie even though they had seen him leave on the night of Cradle’s downfall. It’s easier to trust Cradle than to question.
And the old version of 133-3124707 will take the name of Minhyuk. No longer the second son of the Lee family; no longer a replacement part.
He will be Minhyuk, and that is all he will ever have to be again.
--
notes
zqlin, thank you again for all the amazing prompts! i had the best (and hardest!) time choosing what to write for you! another very special shout-out to my favorite beetleborg for just being awesome and listening to me whine all summer long! the hand-holding and cheering was much appreciated!
→ the prompt called for a dystopia!au or survival of the fittest
→ the idea of the pills and the regulations and basically all of Cradle was taken from this YA novel i read several months/years ago titled Matched
→ the insertion of "rock-a-bye baby" was a last minute decision - one that i think really lended itself well to the overall feel/mood of the story!
→ title borrowed from seven lions’ song “days to come”
→ please check out all the other entries for the summer 2014 exchange at blockisbang! you won't be disappointed!