Dermaphrode 

Restless

“Welcome to Sector Seven, where life meets efficiency!”

An artificial voice boomed over the loud speakers that were placed all over the small city. I was walking through the immigration building, heading for the exit. This is where my life was to be lived for the rest of my days. Sector Seven was a small city-like community made up of high rise apartment buildings. It was part of a larger metropolis controlled by the government, an organization of lobotomized automaton-like civilians controlled by an anonymous leader. We called those who worked for the government “the devils hermaphrodites” or “dermaphrodes” for short. We wore matching body hugging full body suits, similar to those on the long lost television series “Star trek”, and were put into pairs. Most people suffered from severe loneliness no matter who they were paired with. I was one of the few lucky citizens who managed to construct reasons and excuses to move from sector to sector. It cured the restlessness many people suffered from. Many believe those who are seriously ill, mentally unstable or overly restless are turned into a dermaphrode through mental and surgical manipulation. Of course we could not be sure, the dermaphrodes were hidden under a full suit of armour plating, including their faces.

My apartment building was on the outer ring of the well organized radial pattern of roads and buildings. It wasn’t any different from the other possible places I could have been lodged in, except for the dull view of the high rise wall that surrounded our sector.

My arms were released from the restraints of a device similar to handcuffs as I was introduced to my new home.

“Apartment room number: 128790b. Access level code: primitive. Assigned partner: invalid.”

“Invalid? What do you mean by invalid? Are they unable to walk?” The dermaphrode looked as if it was having a meltdown. Its arm’s flailed around his head and one of its arms hit the door frame, smashing off one of the hinges. I jumped back into the room to avoid being in its swinging range. It turned and walked off towards the stairwell and disappeared, still waving itself about. What on Earth was that all about? I thought to myself.

I spent the next few weeks doing as much as I could to save myself from suffering the same ailments my building’s residents were suffering from. It is against the rules to mingle or become friends with anyone who isn’t your partner. Obviously the anonymous ruler of our great land didn’t want us to go off our nut but wasn’t willing to let us plan and plot against him by making friends.

I was growing restless day by day. I had to do something to keep me occupied, this was torture. My eyes hurt from the dull grey colours that encompassed everything around me. I had to get out of this god damn sector. It was time to plan why I had to leave this sector and why it was for the good of the land. I decided to sleep before planning tomorrow.

I woke up to an insidious smell wafting through my open window.  I went downstairs to check what it was. Finally, some excitement! The smell was coming from the alleyway that ran down behind my building. Checking for any security drones I slowly approached the mouth of the dark strip. At the end of the laneway there was a body. The smell was bloody awful and I had to really concentrate on not losing my meager dinner from the night before. It was a dead dermaphrode. Turning it onto its back I looked for what might have killed it. I noticed the drone’s number, it was the same as the drone that had showed me to my room when I had first arrived. On impulse I unlatched the metallic mask from the dermaphrodes head. This was the first and only time I would ever see what lay behind the armour of a dermaphrode. Then and there I took it upon myself to assume this dermaphrodes position and help rescue people from the horrors of Sector life. My life once again had purpose, I was to become the first fully human dermaphrode.