The Resistance

Longevity? Hillary, nothing supersedes Longevity. Nothing ever will. If Longevity production were to cease, the human race would die out in a matter of years. Civilisation as we know it would crumble. The human race is now entirely dependent on Longevity for its very survival.’
    There was silence for a few seconds.
    ‘Very well, Richard, you’ve made your point.’
    ‘Good. And now, if you’ll just follow me into Unit X, I will show you the future.’
    Peter waited for them to reach the top of the stairs, then silently slipped through the door he was hiding behind and followed them.
    Sheila squinted against the bright light that was shining into her eyes. Her arm was aching where the nurse had stuck a needle into her, and her head was feeling woozy, as though she was still in a dream, and it gave her confidence, encouraged her to open her mouth.
    ‘Where am I?’ she asked no one in particular, trying to focus her blurred vision and failing miserably. She could see that she was in a large room; she could hear low voices, but couldn’t see who was speaking. ‘What’s happening?’
    The blurry outline of a woman wandered over to her side. When she was close, Sheila could see her face. It looked kind, so different from the people who’d been manhandling her for the past week or so.
    ‘Surplus Sheila?’ she asked. Sheila nodded. ‘Welcome to Unit X,’ the woman continued. ‘Your procedure will be starting soon. It’s relatively painless, and you need to stay as still as possible. Can you do that for me?’
    Sheila nodded. ‘The procedure,’ she said. ‘What’s it for?’
    The woman smiled. ‘It’s for making history,’ she said. ‘You’re going to be helping us with a scientific breakthrough, Sheila. You’re about to become a Valuable Asset.’
    ‘Really?’ Sheila felt herself bristle with something approaching pride. She was going to make history. She was important. Then she winced. ‘It hurts,’ she said. ‘It really hurts. And I feel sick.’
    ‘You’ll be fine,’ the woman said. ‘I’ll be back very soon. Just lie there quietly, will you? And don’t worry, everything will be OK.’
    She disappeared out of view, and Sheila put her hands on her stomach, wishing the pain would subside but knowing there would be no point in making a fuss. She felt her face getting hot under the lights, and tried to roll on to her side but her legs were clamped in a strange position. Her arms, too, were restrained, she discovered when she tried to move them.
    Anxiously, she called after the woman, but there was no response.
    Peter took the steps two at a time; at the top was a short corridor, at the end of which was another door. Unit X, he found himself thinking, his heart thudding in his chest. This was it. Pressing his ear against the door, he listened.
    ‘The problem with Longevity is not what it can do; it’s what it can’t do, wouldn’t you say?’ he heard his grandfather say. ‘Our age shouldn’t be visible, shouldn’t have any impact whatsoever on our bodies, but it does, doesn’t it? Our wrinkles, our spare tyres, our lack of energy – they conspire against us. Nature is still laughing at us, holding us back. We have inherited the earth, and yet we cannot control how we feel, how we look.’
    ‘There’s always surgery.’
    They were close to the door – too close for Peter to risk opening it.
    ‘Yes, but surgery is only a sticking-plaster. One operation is never enough, Hillary; we are permanent fixtures in this world. Our internal organs are Renewing themselves constantly with the help of Longevity, but our skin, our muscles, have yet to catch up.’
    ‘And you can help them? Really? How?’
    ‘Stem cells.’
    Peter heard Hillary sigh. ‘Stem cells? Richard, what’s new about that?’ There was a screaming noise that made Peter jump with alarm. ‘And what’s all that noise? Do you have animals up here?’
    ‘Animals? No. That’s just . . . part of the process. The important thing to remember here is that we’re not dealing with animal stem cells, or stem cells taken from adults, Hillary. Adult stem cells are so limited. Once they’ve developed beyond a certain point, they can only repair, replace or be grown into specific organs.’
    ‘So? What’s the alternative?’
    ‘It’s in this room, Hillary. Just beyond those double doors.’
    ‘Then show me what’s behind them, Richard. I want to see.’
    Peter gritted his teeth with frustration. He needed to get in,