BRIGHT ISLANDS
BY FRANK RILEY
The future enters into us, in order
to transform itself in us, long before
it happens.—RAINER MARIA RILKE
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Worlds of If Science Fiction, June 1955.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
When the two Geno-Doctors were gone, Miryam took the red capsule fromunder the base of the bedlamp and slipped it between her dry lips.
Reason told her to swallow the capsule quickly, but instead she held itunder her tongue, clinging, against her will, to the last few momentsof life.
She knew she was being weak, that she was still seeking hope wherethere was no hope, and she prayed to the ancient God of the Ghetto thatthe gelatin coating would dissolve quickly.
Pain interrupted the prayer, spreading like slow fire from deep withinher young body, where the unwanted child of Genetics Center stirred sorestlessly, so impatient to be born.
The white walls of her Center room blurred in and out of focus. Shadowsmerged together in brief, uncertain patterns. Lights flickered wherethere were no lights, and the darkness was so intense it had a glare ofits own.
At the worst of the pain cycle, Miryam bit down on her under lip untilthe flesh showed as white as her teeth. She fought off temptation tocrunch the capsule and put an end to all pain, all fear.
No, she would not go that way. She would go in a moment of blindingclarity, knowing why, savoring the last bitter sweet second of hertriumph.
With a subconscious gesture of femininity, Miryam brushed the dark,damp hair from her forehead, and wiped the perspiration from her lips.
"Pretty little thing," one of the Geno-Service agents had called her,when she was arrested last fall in the Warsaw suburb where she hadtaught nursery school since escaping from the Ghetto.
"Doesn't look a bit like one of her kind," another agent had said,putting his hand under her chin and turning her face to the glare ofhis flashlight. "No wonder she fooled the Psycho and Chemico squads....Lucky for us!"
"What's the matter, little one?" the first agent had spoken again."Didn't you know we were coming? I thought all of you people weresupposed to be telepaths.... Or doesn't it work when you're asleep?"
He flipped the covers off her trembling body and whistled.
"Hands off!" the Geno-Sergeant had warned sharply. "She's for Center!"
Now the capsule under her tongue was moist and soft. Time fled onswift, fluttering wings. Soon the horror would be done.
But the stubborn spark still glowed, and Miryam allowed her mind todrift down the long, shining corridor to the room where the younger ofthe two Geno-Doctors was changing into a white coat. The older man, whowore the gold trefoil of Geno-Sar on his collar, tilted back in hischair.
"She should be just about due," he said cheerfully.
"Yes, Sir," replied the young doctor, sounding the proper note ofdeference for a man who communed daily with the political elite.
"What do you think of her?"
"Well, Sir, frankly—I was surprised—" The young doctor twistedmuscular arms to button the back of his jacket. He had but recentlycome from the Genetics Sanitarium on the Black Sea, and his face wastanned deep brown. "From reading the weekly reports of your staff, Ididn't know she was that—that young—"
Miryam trembled with a hope she dared not recognize, but it was crushedout of her by the Geno-Sar's boomin