A rigged system

( A few hours later, The Skyshard family apartment ) 

Luke and Leo Skyshard entered their small, dimly lit apartment, their faces etched with a mixture of disbelief and cautious optimism. 

The room, furnished with worn-out sofas and a flickering television set, seemed to contain endless cracks on the ceiling that made it hard to discern if the wall had more plaster or more paint as it looked like a jumbled mix of both. 

In the corner of the room was a large metal table with food packets secured to it with tape underneath. 

The table was the family's earthquake protection plan, it was sturdy enough to take heavy impact in case the roof began to fall and contained emergency rations to support the family for 3 days in which rescue operators could hopefully find them. 

It wasn't the perfect plan to survive in these dangerous times, but it was the best that the family could afford. 

Upon that same table rest a cracked computer from 20 years ago which took forever to boot up. 

It was a miracle that the old gen15 processor still worked at all as Luke and Leo relied on it to hunt for new jobs. 

"Mom we're home" Leo announced, as out of the kitchen walked Elena, their beautiful and kind hearted mother. 

If one were to ever ask the definition of the word 'Housewife', Leo felt like his mother would be the perfect model. 

She could cook good food, sew torn clothes, save money while shopping, laugh at silly things and find happiness in the simplest of luxuries. 

There was no doubt in either of the brother's minds that without their mother the two of them would not have survived their harsh childhood. 

She was the pillar of their life and they loved her too much. 

"Mom, The president just announced it. They're sending Arc Ships to another planet... Terra Nova. It's going to be like a new start, it's a chance to build a new life on hardwork and merit. We finally have a chance to escape all this, but they are only taking 1 billion humans total, so we need to act fast and ensure a seat," Luke explained.

Elena's eyes widened, but the initial thrill dissipated as quickly as it came as she asked cautiously "That's... that's wonderful, but how do we ensure we get on those ships?"

Determined, the brothers sat down at their old computer, its screen bearing cracks like scars. After navigating through the application site for the Arc Ships, they discovered a professional ranking system. 

According to it, their skills as repairmen ranked them at 9.1, meaning that in the entire world if they picked 10 repairmen at random, Luke and Leo would be the 9th best amongst them. 

"We're actually pretty high up, Luke. If this thing is based on merit, we could really get in!" Leo's eyes shimmered with fleeting hope.

Unfortunately, that glimmer was snuffed out when they saw their queue numbers: 70,324 for Luke and 70,325 for Leo.

"Over 70,000? This can't be right," Luke scoffed, his fists clenched.

There were only 1,500 repairmen needed in each Arc ship, putting the total required number at 4,500. 

Globally, the system recognised that there were 350,000 ranked repairmen with Luke and Leo ranking at 3500's. With 4,500 slots being reserved for people of this profession they should have technically had a good shot at getting in, however, their waiting rank itself was over 70,000+ 

When the brothers clicked on the FAQ on how the slot rankings and waitlist were generated, they got some bull-shit explanation on how they factor in a multitude of factors like age, ethnicity, gender, civil score, etc for a total of 108 parameters total. 

Basically it was the government's way of telling them that they completely controlled the rankings at will and if they did not want you to board, you could never board the ship. 

In a desperate move, they applied for every available job, finally landing on waste collection where their queue numbers were the shortest at 3241 and 3242.

"Is this our best shot? To become cosmic janitors?" Leo snapped as Luke's face turned even more grim. 

"We can be pushed back as more and more people apply for the jobs, but we ain't gonna be bumping up. 

I think those who applied are already sure that they wanna leave Earth, I don't think the list is going to move 30 places, much less 3,000" Luke said, pouring cold water on Leo's frustration. 

As things stood they weren't even worthy of becoming cosmic janitors. It seemed their fate was sealed to remain on the dying Earth. 

—---------- 

( A month later, 2 months before the Arc Ship took off ) 

"The whole system is rigged Luke, I'm telling you, I met a shady underground dealer today, who says he can bump us up 1,000 places in the waitlist for 100,000 dollars. 

He's connected to the government somehow and apparently the rich are buying out all the slots. 

The price was only 20,000 a month ago but it's going up fast, if we somehow raise the money we can all board the ship" Leo said, as he tried to desperately search for ways to board the ship. 

"Why are you still dreaming about boarding that ship, Leo? We can't make the cut, just accept it! 

Our closest waiting number is now at 4972 and 4973. 

I'm not too good at maths, but these numbers would mean we would need to pay your dealer close to 1 million dollars to secure our spots. 

Mother's closest waiting number is over 30,000, so that's 3 million more. 

We don't have 40,000 dollars in savings, how are we supposed to raise 4 million huh?" Luke shouted as he admonished his brother for harbouring useless hope. 

Yes the system was rigged and yes it was the rich that were going to leave the planet, but what could they do about it? 

When had the system ever been kind to the poor and downtrodden? 

Unbeknownst to them, their mother Elena had overheard their conversation from the adjoining room. Her heart sank as she felt like she was the anchor holding her children back. Her own queue number was in the 30,000s due to her age and lack of what the government deemed as 'valuable' skills.

As her sons argued in the other room, her thoughts shifted to a dark option for raising money that she had once read about—a black market for kidneys. With the growing desperation in recent times, the price had shot up. One kidney of hers could easily fetch 1.2 million dollars, enough to secure the future of both her sons' but it wasn't an easy decision to make. 

Naturally, with the boys squabbling amongst each other the atmosphere at home was heavy for the next two days as Elena silently contemplated whether or not to make the big move, but ultimately with trembling hands, she filled out the medical consent forms to sell one of her kidneys with the operation scheduled for the next day. 

Her lips quivered, but her resolve was unshakeable.

She hid the form in her dresser and returned to the living room, her eyes a complex tapestry of love, sorrow, and indomitable will.

"We'll figure this out," she told herself, her voice barely more than a whisper. "One way or another, you boys are getting on that ship."