The Unconquered

The seeds flung from our hands laid like snow in stark contrast to the black earth beneath our feet. We cared not where they landed. We cared not for our Vocation. But the will of the Council was done, and the tending of the crops was our life. Every day we walked these rows, planting and watering and harvesting.

At least this monotonous day was coming to a close. We threw a last handful of seeds onto the ground, and paused for the slightest moment, waiting for the end-of-day signal we knew was coming. "Liberty 5-3000!" one of our sisters called out. We pivoted towards the voice, smudging our worn shoes with rich mud. Our hair whipped in front of our face, but just before it obstructed our vision, we saw them. The man.

They were standing on the other side of the fence from us. They were a Street Sweeper, but had not the demeanor of one. They stood erect, and they looked straight at us. Their face was proud and cut in sharp angles, and their eyes were icy blue, confident and unforgiving. We were alarmed by the straightness of their gaze, but not frightened. As we walked back to the Home of the Peasants, we thought much about them.

As we stood out in the stark field the next morning, we found ourselves looking for the blue-eyed man. We saw them standing by the fence, and they were looking at us. But then we turned away for some reason we could not explain, and felt better when we were not watching them watching us. But after a few days we found the courage to look at them and see them looking back.

Every day for many days, we found the Street Sweeper with our eyes, near the time when we were to head back to our Home. One day, they lifted their hand to their eyes as though they were shading them from the sun. But we saw that they were not looking at the horizon, but at us. We raised our hand to our own eyes in reply, and did so whenever we saw the man by the fence from there on after.

Then one morning we learned the blue-eyed one's name. We were kneeling by the stream to refresh ourselves when we saw that they had come closer to our field than they ever had before. We rose, and walked to them. We were cautious, as we saw that some of the man's Street Sweeper brothers walked the same road as him. But they did not mind us. We looked at the blue-eyed one expectantly. Their lips moved, as if probing the air for words. Then they spoke:

"You are beautiful, Liberty 5-3000," they said.

We gasped internally at the words. Never had such endearments been spoken to us. They were forbidden. Yet we felt a strange triumph at them, and we knew, though we could not see, that the triumph was reflected in our eyes. Such power these words had! They made our stomach churn with strange longing, yet we remained calm. We would speak to this man who had uttered these dangerous words.

"What is your name?" we queried. We were surprised that our voice did not quaver.

"Equality 7-2521," they replied. We decided that the name did not suit them. They were not equal to any man in this world, we thought. We spoke again to them.

"You are not one of our brothers, Equality 7-2521, for we do not wish you to be." These words were not what we had meant to say, but they seemed more powerful than any words we could have deliberated on.

"No," they said. "Nor are you one of our sisters."

"If you see us among scores of women, will you look upon us?" we asked.

"We shall look upon you, Liberty 5-3000, if we see you among all the women of the earth." Our heart rose, but then our joy was tempered as we thought a troubling thought. We had to know if we would see Equality 7-2521 any longer.

"Are the Street Sweepers sent to different parts of the City or do they always work in the same places?"

"They always work in the same places, and no one will take this road away from us," they replied, and now we did not restrain our internal joy.

"Your eyes are not like the eyes of any among men," we said. Suddenly, however, their piercing gaze grew troubled and cold. when they spoke again, there was urgency in their voice.

"How old are you?" they asked. We realized the reason for their sudden anger and apprehension then, as we replied:

"Seventeen." Equality 7-2521's eyes looked relieved when we said this word, but their lips tightened with hatred. We knew that they were thinking of the Palace of Mating where they, being obviously as old as twenty years, had been forced to mate with women of eighteen or older. We had heard that it was an ugly place, and suddenly we saw with sudden clarity the reason for Equality 7-2521's hatred. We felt it ourselves, this strong desire to protect our own body, to save it. We smiled sadly, for we knew the hatred was futile.

But even as our sisters came to collect us, we knew that our beautiful Equality 7-2521 would keep fighting. We decided they needed a name more suited to the warrior in them. In our thoughts we would call them our dear one, the Unconquered.