Four weddings and a comunion....

Creative writing - Prompt - sci fi (I went with dystopian instead)

First chapter:

Maria parked the car and took a deep breath. She looked at Telma. Telma was looking ahead, tense. Maria could see the huge effort she was making to stop fidgeting and look composed. Controlled. Neutral. 

'Are you ready?'

Telma sighed 'Yeah, I think so.'

'It will be ok Telma. We just need to give all the right answers, remember?'

'I know, mum.'

They walked side by side across the hospital car park until they reached the main building. Inside, Maria scanned Telma's chip. The machine's answer was nearly immediate: 'Welcome to Cardiff's Central Health Reset Unit. Please take an interactive map to find your health restorer consultant. Once you reach your destination press the button twice to be allowed into the room.'

Maria looked around. People were moving around in an orderly manner, some scanning the chip in their writs to access their health files, others already holding their maps and starting to follow the instructions. She hated this place. 

The consultant's room was, as expected, extremely clean and minimalistic. Magnolia walls,  white desk, a single diploma projected on the wall. The consultant showed them two padded chairs. He consulted his tablet.

 'Good morning Mrs Hamilton. I can see you've been sent in as a precaution by the social services, am I right?'

'Good morning. Yes, that is so. The Life Learning Institute is concerned about Telma's productivity.'

'Are you concerned, Mrs hamilton?' 

The question took Maria by surprise. Only doctors from a much older generation would still ask any sort of personal questions nowadays. She studied him with interest. He looked young enough, no more than 55 or 60. He had paused, actually waiting for her answer. 

Maria knew better than to be too honest. 

'I...no, I can't say I am. I think a bit of personal variability is to be expected at Telma's age.'

'Ok, let me see what we have here. So Telma was born in 2099, right? Let me see her report: Produuctivity 80%...on average 10% less than what's expected on a child her age. Focus ability: 75% Response time: Mostly adequate. Agreeability: inconsistent. '

 He paused for a moment as if taking in the report. 'Ok Mrs Hamilton, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?' The question was retoric. Nobody in their right mind would say no. 

'Yes, of course' Maria dared side glance at Telma. She remained adequately quiet and unexpressive, as if awaiting instructions. Good. Nobody would imagine, by looking at her, how Telma really was like at home. 

The doctor looked at Maria straight in the eyes. He was nearly smiling. There was something weirdly out of place in his attitude. Hardly anyone showed any sort of personal involvement in a professional interaction these days. 

'Has Telma been following her diet and exercise regimen faithfully?'

'Yes.'

'She's on an 1800-calorie diet, correct?

'Yes, that's right.'

'Now, Mrs Hamilton, I am obliged to ask you the following questions, but you're not obliged to answer them. Do you understand that?'

'Yes, I do.' The doctor was just following the script now, but his nearly friendly attitude remained.

'Any access to illegal activities or products that might explain Telma's lack in productivity?'

'No, none.'

'I will have to list them out one by one.'

'Yes, I'm aware.'

'Has Telma been sent for inspection before?'

'Yes, a few times' Maria's voice sounded empty to her own ears. The doctor looked at her. In another time, another life altogether she felt, she would have taken this look for sympathy. Nowadays, as things stood, it only made her feel slightly confused. 

The doctor carried on:

'Access to books?'

'Only the allowed non-fiction literature.'

'Access to art?'

'In moderate doses only. Once a week.'

'Music?'

'Once a week. Only the tracks allowed for her age.'

The exhaustive questionnaire went on for a while. Until he got to the most dangerous bit. 

He addressed Telma, rather than Maria. Telma nearly jumped on the chair on hearing her name. 

'Telma, have you ever had any access to art-creating materials? Colour pencils, blank pages, paints, anything?'

Telma's voice was barely audible: 'No.'

'Have you ever been allowed to dance?'

She hesitated. Her answer came one second too late and it filled Maria with dread. This couldn't be happening. 

'Never.', Telma whispered finally.

The doctor paused. He looked at the tablet. Looked at mother and daughter. Maria felt like she couldn't breathe. She had never felt so scared.

'Right Mrs Hamilton, I'm satisfied with this consultation.'

She couldn't contain the surprise in her voice: 'You are?'

Another pause. 

'Yes. I'd like to see Telma again though. Don't worry about the Learning Institute for now. My report will keep you two safe for a while. I'll give you my card in case you have any issues with them between now and the next consultation.'

Maria and Telma didn't utter a word until they got inside the car. Telma was nearly in tears, but too used to control her own emotions to actually let them out. 

'Mummy, what happened there?'

'I don't know Telma, I only know we made it this time. Let's go home.'