1 Fragment of a Memory

I was sitting at my desk, reading over some of the proposals given to me. Carefully considering which one was worthwhile of our budget. I meticulously inspected through dozens of papers, delicately inked, signed by the head of each department. Technicians, doctors, engineers and even the headmaster of the Cransfield boarding school had all submitted various requests for resources. The list of applicants, of course was longer, but the other requests were received from insignificant departments (such as the department of Psychological Counselling), and was of little consequence to society. I was 27 then, far too young to be given the authority that I had, far too stupid, but somehow here I was.

I looked outside of my window, onto an artificial moonlit sky, as I sipped my black tea, yes, it was English breakfast, my favourite kind. I picked up a blue fountain pen and began to list the equipment and budget that each of these facilities requested. The hospital required new linen bed sheets, disinfectant, and narcotics, since there was an ongoing epidemic within the dome and they needed to be resupplied with the resources for the sick. What the technicians and engineers requested were synthetic materials, used to mend the patches of the dome. The cost of these synthetic materials were very budget efficient, thus making it a viable option. If both were to pass this selection, then surely they would benefit everyone in this society.

The last request (worth considering) was a request for more "Bubbles", a type of physical inspection machine. The headmaster had sent in a request for the latest model, invented by the scientific team. I sighed a long breath of air, as I took another sip of my black tea.

As the "Knight", it was my job to make unbiased decisions. Personal feelings were not supposed to affect my work, so whenever the Schools requested new "Bubbles", my mind would always agonise over the decision for hours on end. Non stop. But at the end of those long hours the decision that I had come to had always been the same. I wanted to give them more chances, I did, but something in me, perhaps a survival instinct. No, it was probably closer to paranoia prevented me. I slowly dragged my pen across the paper, a thin line of navy ink slowly trailed behind. In a few strokes I had neatly signed my name at the bottom of the paper, the Cransfield paper.

I sighed in relief, as I slowly packed up my bits and pieces ready to head home. As I walked out of the brick building, I stared upwards at the ultramarine sky. It was a fake sky, devoid of all reality. A hologram, but all the same it was beautiful. Maybe even more so than even the real thing. Little spots of light, artificial light, sparkled and the moon, the big round full moon gleamed brightly.

Then, ever so suddenly I was filled with a sense of overwhelming loneliness. The kind that ate away at one's soul, continuously, until the individual could no longer bear it. "Forget me not". I remember those words clearer than yesterday, although I cannot remember the face of the person who once said those words to me. Every single day, at this time, as I head home, the bright artificial moon would almost bring me to tears. Under the same night sky, 10 years ago, it was a different world for us. We were so young, naive and stupid. Back then her face was the most natural thing for me to remember, how could I forget it, after all the time we spent together? But now, whenever I try to recall memories, her face is nothing but a blur. That thought saddens me greatly. The "she" that I am referring to is Kim Alexander, my best friend.

My name is Layla White. I am a "Knight". I work for both the Ministry of Security and The Ministry of Management, in the departments of Public Security, and the Board of Decisions. To be honest here, to have made it to my late twenties, is no easy feat. But no one except for me knows that. Every single time I walk around the dome, something reminds me of Kim. Like last week, when I walked to the border of the dome, as I stepped outside, the red sunrise seemed so reminiscent of her. It was always odd things like this that reminded me of my time at Cransfield.

I am currently writing this recount in the hopes that one day someone, someday, somewhere would find it and read my story. The twisted nature of human beings is why no matter how much history repeats itself, we will always fall into the same traps, possess the same faults and flaws. In this sense we are selfish, foolish and ignorant. No matter the era, no matter how much blood we shed we never learn. I guess I am no different than the people I am describing here. I am someone unable to change. A failure I suppose.

Sometimes I wonder if the decision I made on that fateful night was right one? Would our deranged society be different had I not interfered? Would it be a better, fairer society? What even constitutes a better society? Who even has the right to judge society? We humans tend to blame our own shortcomings on the society that we exist in, but at the end of the day, we, humans are the ones who make up society. So are we the ones to blame? To whomever is reading this in the distant future, I have a few questions I would like to address to you.

As I am writing this, my hand trembles in unease. Has the society of the future remained unchanged from our current system? Has it changed for the better? What about "love"? Are families allowed to live together now? Does The Cransfield Education Facility still exist even a century from now?

This book is a prayer from me to the heavens. A prayer that with this book I can somehow influence society in some aspect to evolve. Through writing down my experiences I hope to encourage the future of humanity to not repeat the same mistakes as our generation. When I am finished typing this book, I will store it on a hard drive and store it in a time capsule underground.

Before I get back to my story, I have a personal favour to ask of the reader. Please do not forget about me. Part of the reason I decided to push these keys, is so that I will be remembered as a real person, who once existed. I beg of you, please do not forget about me, please remember me, the same way that I remember Kim.

On a side note, this book is dedicated to my forever best friend, Kim.

It was ten years ago when I first ventured outside of the safety of the dome, and now, venturing outside was common practice for a Knight. Funnily enough though, this memory remains untouched by the passage of time, clear as day, unlike my other memories. Every time I recall memories, it feels as though whenever I reach out my hands, to the past me, or the Kim of the past, my fingertips, narrowly brush past, barely missing. My past self leaves me behind as I slowly age, and my hand crumbles to dust. Every time that happens, my recollection of the past grows fainter and fainter, like a fire barely flickering, fighting desperately for its survival. Strangely enough though, in my memory of the red sunrise outside, Kim was never there.

As I headed on my way home I passed by the Cransfield Educational Facility. More precisely where the dorms where located. Those large brick buildings towered over the school, providing shade for relief in those scorching hot summers. Ahh, the dorms. The dorms where we spent so much of our childhood, gossiping in, giggling, telling jokes. The four of us in a room. The last time that the four of us had all been together. It was August, 2198. I had just turned 17.

Although I could not remember anybody's face, I could imagine their expressions ever so vividly, and everything that we had discussed in our conversation. Memory, sure is a funny thing, huh? Hannah Thomas, I recall, was shyly recounting to us another one of her crushes. She had too many of those to be honest. Originally she had not intended to tell us any of the details, but Felicity Lee and I had blackmailed her (with the various embarrassing stories that we had accumulated from being roommates for seven years), into telling us.

You see, Felicity had a nose for gossip, any juicy information on who's dating who, which students had sex, and drama between friend groups, she knew it. She could smell it in the air. It was a kind of instinct that came naturally to her, which made her all the more intimidating as an enemy, but made her incredibly interesting as a friend, and especially as a roommate, where she would reveal all the juicy secrets at night and cause you to giggle in silence.

Felicity quickly cut to the chase." So is he handsome?"

" He's very good looking!" Hannah replied, her eyes twinkling in excitement, but not without a tinge of embarrassment.

" So what's his name?" I remember asking her, not because I really cared, but because I was bored.

" Finn. He's in the grade above us. I can't really remember his last name, but he has blond hair and blue eyes." She spoke softly but nervously.

" It's Finn Alexander." It was then when Kim interrupted our conversation. She was sitting in the corner of the little brick room, near our oak closet, propped up against the cushions reading her book on Calculus. " He's my big bro."

It was then that everyone in that room fell in shock. Except for me. I had already known beforehand. I was too focused on the short red headed girl in the corner. It was two years before this conversation, when I finally realised how beautiful a woman Kim was. Every time I talked to Kim although I was comfortable with her, my eyes would always wander to her eyes, nose and lips, and every now and then I would hear my heart thumping against my chest. This time my eyes settled on her plump, soft lips, they were so perfect, that for an instant I felt a surge of rage towards Darren for defiling them.

That unjustified rage soon stopped when Kim opened her mouth to speak again. " Don't date him, he's a playboy, he'll play with your feelings and dump you after sex." She rolled her eyes. " His last "girlfriend" came crying to me after he dumped her." "Such a pain in the ass." She muttered under her breath.

Everyone kept silent after that. She was exaggerating quite a bit, in reality he only had sex with one girl, but she was quite mad at him for it. That was probably the most she had spoken to all four of us together in 6 months. We simply had no words to say. Deep down within all of us we knew that Kim had changed. A lot in the last year or so. The bright, cool and outgoing little girl that we had known had become a somewhat more reserved, quiet woman. But we knew that it wasn't natural change, like puberty or anything.

Looking back in retrospect, Kim probably had known about it, even back then. That was what changed her. She could no longer find the words she was looking for whenever she spoke, and at times she would randomly wander off, on walks in unknown dirt paths in the forest, leading to nowhere.

During that year she had barely participated in any of our gossip sessions, she would either read a book in the corner, or listen to us quietly without ever speaking a word. Her eyes always had a vacant look about them, and they often wandered aimlessly into the horizon. There is a reason why this memory comes back so clearly. It was during this time that I left behind a single regret. That I never told Kim that I loved her.