CIB 11

Sub-Species

Nobody can hear you scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say.  That sounded perfect to CIB11.  They had heard enough screams today.  CIB11 looked forward to living in the vast emptiness of space. They could imagine being wrapped by nothingness; a bubble of peace they could float in.  CIB11 pondered their choice to be part of the New Hive. The serenity of space would surely calm them.

            “What are your feelings today, CIB11?” The registered clinician, Sasha asked in a quiet tone.

            “Agitated and anxious.” CIB11 replied as they tried to sit up.

            “That should pass, be patient.  How many screams today?”

            “Only one, early this morning.”

            “Did the registered clinician respond with the appropriate relief?”

            “Yes.”

            “Good.  Comfort level?”

            “Between a four and five, with relief meditations and massage.”

            “Excellent.”  Sasha jotted down notes in their electronic documentation device (EDD).  “Later today, we can work on some body movements.”

            “That will adjust comfort levels to three and four.”

            “Yes, probably.  Don’t forget the timeline, we only have three more weeks.”

CIB11 sighed as they rubbed their hand over their bald head; fingers void of the tactile sensation of strands gently brushing between them.  They missed the way wind ruffled their hair. That feeling would be moot in space: no wind. 

CIB11 had eagerly volunteered to be part of the experiment; to become gender neutral unambiguous, a new sub- species.  CIB (chemically induced biomorphic) came to be known as test subject eleven, their new moniker.  They desired the void space offered, to leave Earth for a new beginning void of discrimination, void of being stifled, void of angry peers and void of stereotypes.  Even though Earth’s population numbers were in decline, there were fewer and fewer habitable areas left due to disease, famine and political unrest.  The areas that were habitable seemed torn apart by betrayal and bigotry in every form: racism, sexism, chauvinism, provincialism, a general intolerance permeated Earth.

During the latter part of the twenty-first century, being a non-binary person, although accepted, still came with anxiety and confusion on everyone’s behalf. Job interviews were composed of physical and mental endurance tests.  The tests then became a tool to force themselves to fulfill a gender role.  Being a non-binary person became hypocritical because in reality, you were still either a male or female with all the physical markers and still discriminated against in terms of social equality.  CB11 had become disenchanted with the systems on Earth.  The choice to leave and live at the Hive was pragmatic.

            “Are you ready for physical therapy, CIB11?”  Sasha asked as they pushed a motorized body vehicle towards the recovery pod.

            “Yes and no.”  CIB11 said in a peevish tone.

            “Let’s see, I have you down for 30 minutes today.  Does that sound correct?”

            “Sounds good.  Grin and bear it, right?”

            “Good attitude.  May I document that?”

            “Sure.  Why not.”

            “Let’s start with agility, then move to strength.  Then if you are strong enough, some endurance.  Please let the attending clinician know post therapy when the screams of pain start.  That way they can immediately begin massage and meditation therapy.  We also need to document the scream recovery rate.”

            “And if CIB11 can’t recover?”

            “Then I’m afraid you will not be a viable candidate for space.  However, the CIB surgeries, chemicals and hormones will remain free.”

            “Great.”

            “Great good?  Or great sarcasm.  I need to document attitude.”

            “Great good, of course!”  CIB11 said with a reluctant smile.

            “Excellent.”

CIB11 became part of the experiment over six months ago.  At first, it wasn’t too bad, scream levels low.  The chemical treatments to remove all of their body hair burned a little and made you sick.  Hair, for duration-space, compromised the mission; too much dander plus keeping it clean used too much water.  CIB11 now had absolutely no body hair: smooth and naked as a baby.

Then came the surgeries which they were still recovering from; the surgeries to become gender neutral unambiguous or GNU, pronounced nu (new).  Recovery from the surgeries were measured by the number of post-surgical screams due to the pain: a sardonic endurance test void of chemical pain relief.  To become GNU, all signs of sexual orientation needed to be removed; all of them, breasts, testes, penis and vagina.  This removed several of the major complications associated with duration-space: mood swings from hormones, complications due to discharges, defecation and urine waste removal from a singular suction cup, the drive to procreate and a comfortable fit in the muscle rejuvenating body suit.

CIB11 volunteered because they hoped to find a balance between what they genetically were and what they perceived about themselves.  They had the opportunity to transform, yet chose not to. They had too many internal conflicts.

            “What are thy feelings today, CIB11?”  Sasha asked as they readied the EDD.

            “Good, excellent.  Absolutely no screams for days now.”

            “Meditation and massage treatments, how frequent?”  Sasha walked over to feel how the mesh muscle enhancement body suit interlocked around the joints.

            “CIB11 had no need for massage treatments.  They find the meditation to be useful and desire to continue it.”  CIB 11 said respectfully.

            “Are your comments finite?  May I write them down.”

            “Yes, CIB11 feels the meditation will become an ongoing ritual to their daily routine.”  CIB 11 said pleased with their response.

            “Any discomfort occurring from the testosterone and estrogen implants?

            “No, none.  CIB11 hardly recognizes their presence.”

            “The low dosage should not cause any side-affects, such as uncomfortable aggression or sweats.  You must be able to maintain these implants to ensure muscle strength and bone density.  You witness any of these symptoms?  Please be honest.”

            “No, none at all.  CIB11 feels great.”  CB11 smiled as they realized they meant what they said, for once.

            “Good, I have recorded your responses.  Thee should know by tomorrow if approved to join the Hive, which will put thee on the next flight to space.”

CIB 11 exhaled a serene sigh hardly able to contain their excitement.  Sasha looked up from the EDD, stared CIB11 in the eyes and said, “Your optimistic attitude throughout the trial has been duly noted and recorded.  I wish CIB11 the best of luck.”

__________________________

The Hive transit vehicle slowly approached its final destination.  The space station floated like a massive beehive surrounded by the darkness of space.  Unlike the clunky can design of the ISS, the Hive had a layered hexagonal infrastructure; a large dome-shaped beehive.  The communication system of the Hive pointed toward Earth like diaphanous metal threads extending from the bottom. CIB11 embraced the solitude that surrounded them.  Awestruck and filled with wonder, they watched as the vehicle docked.

            “Welcome to the Hive.” A pleasant voice greeted the new recruits as they entered.  “Please place your right hand on the screen to record a digital print.  This will allow free access to all areas of the station.”

Cautiously, each new recruit approached the flat screen.  CIB11 studied the surroundings, void of color and bodily accoutrements.  The GNU program succeeded in creating a gender-neutral person.  CIB11 could not identify any visible gender differences in the recruits that surrounded them.  The dejected emotions they felt on Earth disintegrated.  They were all the same physically, no more ambiguity, no more pressure to choose or be chided during social engagements.

            “Please follow the green lights.  They direct to the main hall for room assignments.  Your preferred career choice has been documented.  Your residency at the Hive has been pre-approved.  Please familiarize yourselves with the Hive design to find your mission station, commissary and various recreational areas.”

            “Cool.”  The person next to CIB11 said in unexpected elation.

            “Ditto.”  CIB11 responded in kind.

            “CIB22 here.”

            “CIB11.  Nice to meet you.”

            “Ditto.  Say, what career path did you choose?”

            “Drone.”  CIB11 said without hesitation.  “What did you choose?”

            “Mechanical engineer.  CIB22 can fix or build anything that you need.  Looking forward to it, you must say.  Even with your references, you could not get a job on Earth to save your life.  Drone, huh.”

            “As a scientist, CIB11 is excited to participate in reprogramming the children of tomorrow.  What everyone couldn’t do on Earth, maybe they can achieve here. The gender-neutral rhetoric on Earth did very little to help biomorphic peoples.  When they are raised around a vast majority of gender specific populations with no isopolity it remained difficult, at best, to break any of the preconceived molds.”

            “Wow.  That’s a mouthful.  CIB22 gets where CIB11 is coming from.  That’s why CIB22 is here too, sort of.  They just got tired of not being able to do what they loved because they could not pass the scrutiny of the gender reveal job interview.  Plus, the pay incentives here are out of this world, so to speak.”

            “Can you imagine a population of children raised and cared for by GNU’s?  There won’t be a mom or dad to compare to, no you’re a girl and you’re a boy, no you’re XX and you’re XY so behave accordingly: no pre-determined qualifications.  Just let them discover what they can do or be without the confines of sexual obligations.  CIB11 hopes to redefine social acceptance.”

            “Won’t there always be some limitations physically?  Without being a GNU, there should be some limitations, they would suppose.”

            “It’s the liberation of their minds, that interests CIB11.  When peoples are always told they can’t or shouldn’t because of their physical attributes or gender, that has a lasting impact.  I know, I lived it.  Imagine growing up with the notion that a person’s only limitation becomes a choice of interest.”

            “Again, wow!”

            “Ditto.”

The next morning, CIB 11 walked with pride to their new position as a Drone in the pediatric cistern.  The quiet white hallway, shiny and new, became a metaphor of themselves.  They felt inspired.  No scrutinizing eyes that tried to correct the way they looked, dressed, walked, believed and talked.  As they passed each GNU, they were greeted with gentle smiles and affirming nods.  They no longer had the expectation to decide whether to perform like a boy or a girl or one of the other multitudes of sexual orientation choices on Earth. CIB 11 had become gender-neutral unambiguously.   What they chose to leave behind faded with each step.

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Faith Ann Guptil: I live in Washington State enjoying the rain with my two horses, Gracie and Monsta’, and a dog named Lux. The inspiration for my stories comes from my three children, my adventures, the people I have met, and my grandmother’s love and wisdom. I have published 14 short stories that range from fiction, science fiction to historical fiction. Recently, I was a 2023 finalist for the Canopus Award for Excellence in Interstellar Writing. Impressed by a Michelangelo quote, “The greater danger for most of us lies not in setting our aim too high and falling short, but in setting our aim too low, and achieving our mark”, I hover at my desk typing out my stories. I hope to encourage others to cherish each day and aim for the stars.