George knelt at the edge of the bed where the Elder was now in his final struggle.  Life was fast-fading from his frail form as George continued to hold his hand, gently but firmly.  His eyes were moist now with unabridged sorrow but his heart was true and strong.

“You are here.  That is good George, thank you” said the Elder, barely beyond a whisper.

“You are looking better sir” George said, his hand holding firm, his eyes looking across and into those of the Elder.

“George.  George.  I have told you not to call me sir.  I am not your superior and I have never been” he exhaled.

“How are you feeling sir- I mean John” George asked with sympathy, looking down.

“I feel I am falling fast my friend so we need to speak now with candor.”

“Certainly sir.”

“We have done so much together these passing years.  We are still small but are strong and true.   Those you now will lead will follow but do not rule; never rule, just simply lead.  You know or will know- you always have.”

“I will be lost without you John” George put forth in earnest.

“No, you have made your way and I have only served to help you in your journey as was done also for me now so long and long ago.  You are the last hope for those who would throw off the certain tomorrow.  As it was passed to me so it will now come to you” the Elder managed as his body convulsed with obvious pain, his lungs working with withering efficiency in their effort to clear the fluids that were collecting there.  “We have long struggled George, so many generations, so many have suffered and died, so many, so many…”

“Yes, it is true.  And you have my life-binding word that I will do everything in my power, give all of my life in pursuit of our sacred goal.  You have my word, my Leader” he said, softly but with the deepest conviction.

The Elder coughed again, his hands clutching futilely at his chest in an effort to relieve his discomfort.  “You are special George and you have always been so.  I believe with my dying heart that you are indeed the one.  I was really never your leader for in all that we have done I have quietly followed.  Since the moment I first met you at the School I knew that you might be he.  I confess that I was at the lowest point of my time and I had lost almost all of hope for tomorrow, all of hope for bringing back the yesterday of which we always speak.  You saved me my friend and you have inspired the others.  You are the hope, you are the one.  I know now that I will not recover, the wounds, the infections, are too deep, but I go now with comfort in knowing you are here, that we have found the one” he managed, his voice falling more quiet with each difficult syllable.

“No, sir, John, do not go.  We need you here with us, we need you always” George exclaimed with some vigor, his words perhaps trying to overcome the desperation and sorrow now welling up inside of him.  The tears flowed freely from his eyes, the first time he could remember crying since the days when he was young, very young, those years ago.

“You do not George.  You will lead- but do not rule.  It will not get easier my friend.    Stay true, be strong and be true…and you will not fail.  Keep my heart always within your own, friend George, my friend, my son…” the Elder John said as his hand first strengthened and then softened its grip on George’s own.  His eyes closed slowly and one at a time and displayed openly a brief sparkle in dying that George had never seen before.  His chest rose and fell but two times more and then life was with him no longer.

George continued to look briefly at the still and always familiar face.  His head dropped to the bed, his body shaking with such emotion as he had not before known.  He continued to hold the Elder’s hand and gave it one final and fully affectionate squeeze before letting go.

After several minutes the attendants came in to see to the Elder.  George rose and looked down a last time.  He felt empty and alone at this moment but, at the same time he also began to feel a growing sense now of renewing purpose. 

For a moment he let his thoughts wander as he remembered back to the day he arrived at the State Adjustment School.   

Back to when he had become SASNA1035.  By then he had found it hard enough as SPSNA777 to remember himself, who he had been, when he had been George- the new designator would place even more uneventful time and mind-cleansing events in the way of remembering his own yesterday, to the days under his early-life stewards.  To the days when he had still been too ignorant to be truly informed in the doctrine of that which then was today.  He was so much more of the wisened ways now but no less possessed of the early-life passions that had served and then betrayed him before finally serving him well yet again.

He remembered his extreme dejection, the resignation he had felt that all was lost and that he would just simply do whatever they wanted.  He was at the lowest point he had ever reached and he was ready to fall in line, or die, whichever proved to be the simpler path.  To him it had not mattered and there was then little difference any more between the two.  Either one was the same ultimate fate.  Either one would serve to the same purpose.

And then his life changed in an instant and without him even realizing it.  At that moment he met John the Elder for the first time and at a time when they both had felt there was no longer any hope to be had for bringing yesterday again to tomorrow.

George arrived at the State Proper School on a blustery October afternoon.  It was a significant date, the 25^th, and the banners were flying everywhere, flapping vigorously in the constant wind. 

“You are the new arrival?” George was asked by the man in the military uniform as he exited the final car on the long train. 

The train was dark and dirty, inside and out; the day was gray and gloomy; George felt the effects of both as he tried to muster a smile.  Not necessary, he knew, but still something left to hold on to that was all his and his alone.

George was quickly informed that he would now be addressed simply as “SPSNA777”, indicating of course that he was New Arrival 777 at the State Proper School.  He would be re-designated after the successful completion of his First Year Plan.  Incomplete completion was not broached as a possibility and was not referred to as failure- failure was not allowable under the current Constitution of Lasting Permanence.  That, too, could change but that, too, was also not discussed as George received his arrival instructions.

Later that day 777- the irony of the three sevens was never considered by the boy formally known to most as George- was finally able to rest awhile.  As he curled up on the hard cot in the chilly gray room of the arrival center he thought briefly about his stewards.

“They only did what they had to do; I cannot blame them for my behavior” he mused, dutifully.  “If they had not called the Central Area Community Administrator to report George’s mal-aligned and malignant behavior and if the Magistrate or Triumvirate or even any of his Plan Instructors had detected just a hint of some of the questions he was asking or thoughts he was having then his stewards would have been properly questioned under the Actively Enacted Guidelines within the present CoLP and, for them, as 777 might somehow imagine, it would have been much less desirable than simply following the Proper Procedural Process of Self-Reportance, also under the present CoLP.  This is as it should be and had always been.

Somehow, deep inside, 777 felt an emptiness in knowing that he would likely not have any additional future contact with his stewards.  That, as well, was as it should be and had always been.  Still, after those almost twelve years under their supervision he felt something he had really never felt before and had never been instructed to experience.  He had no way of knowing what it was, really, but he did wonder briefly if his stewards felt anything even remotely similar.

Within a few months, he knew, if his stewards passed their own re-review by the Community Council High Committee they would have the possibility of being entitled to a pre-designated sperm assignment (a new auction after re-assignment of a previous ward was not allowed) or, possibly, re-assignment of a recently vacated ward assignment.  The latter was possible only when a set of partnered stewards themselves were deemed ineffective and themselves re-assigned to an Adjustment Facility.  The specifics were as outlined in the current CoLP.

Unable to maintain any additional directive of thought 777 began to drift into a needed and necessary sleep.  He was conflicted inside, that he knew.   This was a new awareness for him but real nonetheless.

He was no longer known as George but that would have happened at some point anyhow after he had progressed to a future designation as YouthWorker or PartyProspect; and still again later when he had progressed still further as SoleUnit, PartneredSteward (usually shortened to just Steward), or PartyProgressor but the latter was unlikely given the origins of his and his stewards beginnings; several other possible designators were possible as he aged or as the present CoLP was properly evolved.  For now, he was simply SPSNA777.

He was no longer under the supervision of the stewards he had known for many years- all the years of his still youthful existence.  Against instruction and protocol he had come to have special, strange and unusual feelings for his male and female stewards.  He did not fully understand these but they somehow made him attain an improved state of proper awareness.

He wondered if other wards and stewards had ever experienced the same.  He wondered the same about his own stewards whom he wished deeply, as far as wishing was allowed, were with him now as he moved swiftly toward a sleeping state.  Somehow, he reasoned, somehow, he hoped (though he was not aware that it was hope he was feeling), somewhere, he imagined (as far as imagination would take him, having not been allowed within his instructive) they must.  They just must, for in many fundamental ways they were the same human creatures as was he.

Before the moment of fully losing consciousness SPSNA777 made a few promises to himself.

He would secretly, in his mind, always refer to himself as George and try to always internally convert any arbitrary designator assigned to him during his life tenure to George before responding; he would not hold his stewards to blame for his actions and his ultimate fate and he would continue to secretly feel these good feelings toward them; he would believe that he was not unique in all of this and believe that, perhaps one day, he would manage to find others like him.  This was all he had left to him.

This alone was enough comfort to settle him down sufficiently to finally fall asleep after a long few days of existence-altering activity.  Without knowing it a soft but evident smile managed to form as the cold and gray closed all around.

George was confused and becoming unsettled.  He needed to speak with his stewards to get the proper story- certainly they would tell him the truth.

It was like the time when he had found out he had been conceived as the result of a sperm auction and he had also received the name of “George” only after his stewards had been given special permission from the state to do so as it was not a name on the Approved and Proper Designators list.  It was fortunate for him, at both pre-conception and post-birth, that his stewards had sufficient means and access as afforded by their own beginnings and, as he learned as well, an outcome of their own sperm auctions, the selections of their own stewards.

George was a good boy by most historical standards.  By more recent assessments, however, he was beginning to fall under suspicion, especially by the School Triumvirate.

“I reviewed all the materials and then did even more” he said as he continued his inquiry.  “I knew all of the questions and am sure that I did much better than the grade that I was provided by the Grading Commission.  I know I did better.  I just know it!”

“How can you know for sure?” his female steward asked.

“Well,” George stuttered slightly, swallowing hard as he did, “I accidentally saw the raw scores- but just for a second and I tried to look away before I saw mine and I well, I…”

“Stop now young one!” she exclaimed.  “You know that is not allowed, you should not have looked and you should not have told anyone, not even me.”

“But I was always taught to be honest.”

“Only when required” she quickly countered.  To George this was an interesting and new qualification of a Fundamental Teaching.

“But I got everything right!  The scores, my score- I saw it!  It was a perfect 100 percent!” George cried out, his eyes beginning to dampen.

“Quiet George!” his male steward demanded, albeit in a hushed voice.  “A Patrol Associate might overhear you!”

“It isn’t fair” George said in quieter tones but still simmering and near a boiling point.

“It is exactly fair young one.  It is fair for all and not just one.  You know the teachings and you should know the methods- these have been taught to you” the female steward chimed in.

“Please tell me again because it just doesn’t make sense” George asked in a more subdued voice.  His manners, though not required, were sometimes refreshing to those old enough to remember the early times.

“Yes, I think I must.  It is fair that everyone should start at the same point and that is at 60 percent- fair for all and not just one.  No one is a failure-“

“But I studied and I worked hard and I got 100!” George interjected, animated once again.

“George- er, young one- you must listen and you must understand and you must not call out your score again” the male steward added in to the instructive.

“Young one” the female continued “you know that beyond 60 all additional points go justifiably to the Community Pool and are then equally distributed among all of the Community test-takers.  So the better each individual does the better everyone does.  It is so elegant and beautiful and it is how we live in all aspects of our lives, you know this, you have been so informed and instructed.”

“It’s not fair, it’s not right!” George actually screamed.  “I studied and got 100 and a lot of the others did nothing!  They probably didn’t even do enough to get to the minimum 60.  That was because of me and the few others who do the work, who spend all of the time because we want to do well, we want to do well all by ourselves and without the help of the others!  If they need help with their preparation I would be willing to assist them to prepare but why, why do they get to take away the points that I have earned and claim them for their own??”

“Son, George- er, young one” the female steward attempted excitedly “you must stop this, this unsanctioned behavior.  We have already been pre-warned by the Triumvirate and they have suggested that we have you placed in the Community Adjustment Program at the State Proper School.  We do not wish for you to leave us before the normal age.  Please gain control of yourself” she concluded, an unwanted tear forming in just one eye.

“I cannot, I WILL NOT!” young George cried out in desperation.  “It isn’t fair, it isn’t fair for me!  It isn’t right that the Magistrate’s ward does not even study and he mocks those of us who do- he calls us names and laughs openly at us!  His future is set no matter how little he knows and no matter how poorly he does!  It isn’t fair for me!  It isn’t fair to the others who try, who study, who work so hard!  And if it isn’t fair for even one, like me, then it isn’t fair for all!”

“Exactly the point” his male steward said calmly now.  “And you see that if one, if just a single one, protests against the fairness then fairness cannot be had for all.  And that is why it is strictly enforced and simply not allowed.  It is only fair.  We must address this before we are also implicated” he finished, a bit upset for the apparent failure of him and his female.

The female looked with a fleeting touch of sympathy and a heavy dose of disappointment at George and then with seriousness at her male.  “I will go and make the call” she said as she stood, slowly.

George looked at each of his stewards in shocked disbelief and then around the room, suddenly understanding that he would likely not see these things perhaps ever again.  He had crossed the line and there was no going back, no taking back of the very words that had now betrayed him.   The responsibility of his stewards was clear and he did not wish harm to them.  He looked at the floor and sighed with resignation and deep sadness, knowing now that, like the Magistrate’s ward, his future was indeed set.