that spat out directions of who was to be frozen and who was to be returned. The pure mathematics of it fascinated him. But more than his genius, it was his straw-blonde hair and pale blue, almost white eyes that captured everyoneâs attention whenever he entered a room. All that said, it would be his exemplary Academy record in Censomics and Synthetics plus an outstanding Contribution to the Community that would win the day. These things combined would most definitely make him the natural successor to the post of Controller General. The greatest gift that most people could expect to give to the Community was that of new life. Carter shuddered. He would choose the ultimate position of Controller General over fatherhood any day. Becoming Controller General was that single event that he had been groomed for his whole lifeâand he had no trouble remembering.
From his very first lesson on the subject, Carter had been fascinated by the completeness of Censomics. The study of population control and Community Management was so much more important than the mythical history lessons that described an old world he could not understand. It was a place that his grandfather had known something of, but only from the stories that had been handed down to him by his father. Family had been so intertwined with destiny back in those days. Luckily, Carterâs fate was destined to be so much greater than that of his parents.
Nikolas and Jacinta Warren had been involved in a terrible accident whilst on a scouting mission outside the Barricades. The rumour was that it involved wolves.
âWhat sort of accident?â Carter had asked, through his sobbing. âHave they been frozen? Will they be coming back?â
âNo,â said his grandfather, Milton. âThis is the sort of accident where you donât come back. Not ever.â
It was later that evening that the ten-year-old Carter vowed to become Controller General.
âWhat makes you think you would be a good Controller?â asked his grandfather, seriously. âYou know theyâre going to ask you that one day. Youâll need to have an answer if you get invited to the final selection.â
âBecause if Iâm Controller General, I can do anything,â said the boy. âEven bring them back.â
âWell, I donât think thatâs possible,â said his grandfather. âNot even for the Controller General. But Iâd be very proud of you if you were chosen.â
âThen Iâll do it to prove that I can. And Iâll show them. Iâll make them sorry they left me behind. Iâll be the best son they ever had,â said Carter between sobs. And that was the decision made.
----
T here werenât any further scouting missions after the one in which his parents disappeared. The Industry stopped asking for volunteers and the Scouting Programme was abandoned. On the very rare occasions where waste was needed to be deposited out in the Deadlands or land surveys were undertaken, now it was done by machine. The dangers were reiterated daily on the FreeScreens. It was a shameâif he hadnât been identified as a contender, heâd have quite liked to have been a Scout.
âYour parents would have been proud of you,â his grandfather had explained when he was old enough to understand. âThey tried out for Controller General when it was their time, but they were never real Contenders.â
âBut why?â said Carter.
âThey were bright,â said his grandfather, âbut not exceptional like you. Only those who are real contenders get the chance to develop Contributions. The rest of us, well, we just do what needs to be done.â
âWell, Iâm doing fine without them. And anyway, my Contribution isnât going to be a stupid invention like Transporters,â said Carter. âItâs going to be an idea that changes the world.â
His grandfather laughed and pointed