Alpha to Omega

"Ah, hello there friend. Welcome to the Galapagos. Might you give me the honour of your name?"

"Wallace Darwin. And we're not friends."

To the man's credit, his smile wavered slightly. Wallace liked that – it was a sign that there was at least one person on this Ford-forsaken island that was capable of rational thought. He didn't like being here. He didn't like the types of people who lived on this island. So unless the man before him had a similar story, he had little intention of socializing.

"Sorry to hear that," the man said. "But I'm afraid that people like me are all you've got."

Like me, Wallace reflected. "Me." As in "I." As in "individual." The type of people the World State could do without. The same World State that had banished him here. Briefly he glanced back at the sporticopter, already on its way back to Quito. It was as if the pilots couldn't bear to be outside civilization any longer than necessary.

Walking across the grass, Wallace couldn't blame them.

"So," the man said, following the alpha. "What's your story then?"

"What makes you think I have a story?"

"Well, you're here," he pointed out. "And since the sporticopter's flown away, I'm guessing you're here to stay. Am I right?"

Wallace sighed.

"So, you have a story then," the man pointed out. "You became a somebody, that peeved off everybody, so they sequestered you on an island of somebodies so the everybodies didn't have to worry about you."

"They did the same to you," Wallace murmured. "What's your story?"

In truth, he wasn't that interested. But listening right now was more bearable than talking. The world controller stationed in Mombasa had given him the courtesy of providing an address on this blasted island, that a house was set up and everything, and if he wanted any more, tough luck. He just wanted to get in there and be free of people like the twit following him.

"Well, worked in Johannesburg, beta level," the man said. "Admin duties, documentation, stuff like that. And…well…"

He trailed off. Wallace dared to hope that he'd stopped talking.

"But, well, you start seeing things in those documents if you look hard enough," the beta continued. "I mean, not just facts, figures, but…things."

"What kind of things?" Wallace murmured, a spark of curiosity igniting in him.

"Oh, mainly tech stuff. Electronic ideas, exchange of information, even something farfetched called a computer. All these ideas that we weren't using. I mean, just think, the ability to store data electronically! To freely exchange information! It…well, I couldn't believe it. Why weren't these ideas being used?"

It was a rhetorical question for Wallace. He knew full well why those ideas weren't used. Conformity. Stability. At best, it would have shortened working hours, given people more time, and led to sloth and soma. At worst, information exchange would have everyone from a beta to even an epsilon learning, questioning, doing the kinds of things that the World State had been set up to avoid.

"So yeah," the man continued. "Summoned to my beta supervisor, sent up to an alpha, told them I wouldn't let it go, so bam, got out here."

"And you like it?"

"Course! Ideas are free here!" He gestured around the area, from the sea to the east to some birds flying westward to one of the other islands. "Always new challenges, always new ideas to improve life. I've been here for fifteen years and I've never felt so exhilarated." He extended a hand to Wallace. "Ambrose Wolfe, by the way."

Wallace shook it meekly. Ambrose's tale rang true. It was the sort of thing he would have done had the beta been sent to him. And the same sort of thing that happened to him.

"So, what's your story then?" Ambrose asked. "How'd an alpha like you end up here?"

Wallace sighed. He sat down on a rock, sending a group of birds squawking and flying away. There were a lot of birds here, he realized. And all of them different. All individual species. Fitting for a society of somebodies rather than everybodies.

But not for an alpha like himself, he reflected. Not for an alpha who'd worked in Mombasa's Department of Agriculture. He knew the rules. He knew that it was in the World State's best interests to keep people on the land. What wasn't in its best interests however, was the amount of agriculture being undertaken in eastern and central Africa. Not with the techniques being used at least, those that were leading to soil degradation. Not when food could be imported. Every part of the world served the state in some form or another, but there were better ways to utilize the continent.

"You don't want to talk about it yet?" Ambrose asked. Wallace still sat in silence.

"Wallace?"

He remained seated. He'd argued. Others argued. He took his argument to World Controller Shuar, who'd argued that if he wanted to stay an alpha, he'd toe the line and accept that he was an alpha minus, no more, no less. He hadn't. He'd still argued. And fed up with him, Shuar had sent him to an island in the middle of nowhere.

"Ambrose?"

It wasn't Wallace's voice. It was a woman's, but he still kept his head down. He was here. Out in the middle of nowhere. He-

"Well, Wallace, if you want to make new friends, now's the time to do it."

"I told you," the alpha said, getting to his feet. "I'm not here to make new friends, I'm-"

He stopped short, seeing the woman in front of him. Unlike the men, her skin was dark, her hair long, and her frame lithe and petite. The type of woman he could easily get back in Mombasa.

"Um, hello," he said. "I don't believe we've met."

"No, we haven't," she said. She extended a hand. "Camille Wolfe."

Wallace shook it. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, he thought. He knew how to 'play the game,' as some put it. By tonight, he-

"I see you've met my husband then?"

Wallace let go of the hand. He looked at the woman. Then he looked at Ambrose.

"Wife?" the alpha asked.

"Oh yeah, married for five years," Ambrose said.

Wallace stared back at Camille. "You…you left the World State and got married?"

"Oh no," she exclaimed. "My family's been here for three generations." He gave her husband an affectionate peck on the cheek. "Ambrose here arrived here ten years ago, and…well, one thing led to another."

Wallace stared.

Marriage, he reflected. Not only was he on an island of undesirables, but he was on an island where marriage was practiced. Ambrose was a beta, but even a beta should have known better.

"Anyway, I should go," Camille said. "I promised the kids I'd take them fishing."

Children…

Wallace collapsed back on the rock. He couldn't take it anymore. Marriage. Five years between meeting and marriage rather than just getting on with it like a civilized person. And children. Not grown, but…He shuddered just thinking about it.

"Omega," Wallace murmured.

"What?" Ambrose asked.

"Omega," he spat, looking up at him. "I'm not an alpha. I'm…at omega. The end." He slammed his fist against the rock, scraping his skin. "Ford dammit, I'm at the end!"

The birds flew up in the sky and squawked. They were laughing at him, Wallace reflected. Mocking him. Tormenting him. Even as Ambrose put a hand on his shoulder he felt revolted. Those hands had held children's hand, he reflected. Children that were…born.

"Yeah, you're not an alpha," Ambrose said. "And I'm not a beta. And Camille was never anything." He sighed. "I envy her that you know."

"Omegas. We're all omegas."

"If you say so," Ambrose said. "Maybe we're at the ends of the Earth. Maybe we're on the edge of what you call civilization. Or maybe being at the end is the start of a new beginning."

He patted the alpha's shoulder. Wallace just sat there.

"Anyway, I'll see you around," he said. "If it makes you feel better, think of yourself as an alpha. The beginning. The start of something."

And with that, he walked off.

Wallace just sat there. The breeze blew. The waves sung. The birds soared. Omega…

But in a way, he felt like an alpha.

But not of the World State.