The Resistance

to the second announcement of the day – a personal announcement, as it happens, but one which I believe also has a wider significance. For today, my grandson, Peter Pincent, is to sign the Declaration.’ He shot a benevolent look in Peter’s direction; Peter looked back stonily. ‘As you will know, Peter has had a difficult start in life, a chequered past, if you will. But he is a Pincent, something which he has demonstrated all too well in his time at Pincent Pharma. I wanted you all to share in this momentous step for him, his move into adulthood, into this brave and wondrous world that Longevity has created for us. Ladies and gentlemen, my grandson, Peter.’
    Unsteadily, Peter rose to his feet. He made his way to the podium, where his grandfather was carefully flattening out his Declaration and motioning for the photographer to make his way over in order to catch the moment. With a flourish, he handed Peter a pen and moved back so that Peter could sign.
    ‘Right there, at the bottom,’ he said, under his breath. ‘One signature. Do it quickly.’
    Peter stared at the document.
    ‘Do it or Anna disappears for ever, you understand?’ Richard hissed, then grinned at the photographers surrounding them. ‘Stage fright, I think,’ he said jovially. ‘Boy’s not used to all this attention.’
    Then, suddenly, Peter looked up at the journalists. ‘Actually,’ he said seriously, ‘I’d like to say a few words. If that’s OK?’
    Richard felt his chest constrict. ‘A few words?’ he said through gritted teeth, moving in and trying to manoeuvre Peter away from the podium. ‘Peter, perhaps now isn’t the time for . . .’
    ‘Speak!’ A journalist interrupted. ‘Let’s hear from Peter Pincent.’
    ‘Yes. Peter Pincent,’ another chimed.
    Reluctantly, Richard let go of his grandson. ‘Very well,’ he said, smiling benevolently again, for the benefit of the reporters. ‘A few words.’ Then he turned around. ‘Think of the girl before you say anything stupid,’ he whispered into Peter’s ear. ‘You will be sending her to a place far worse than Grange Hall, and this time there will be no escape. She will die in there, believe me.’
    Peter nodded soberly, and moved towards the microphone.
    ‘As my grandfather has said, I’ve been at Pincent Pharma a while now, and in that time I’ve learnt a great deal about science, about Longevity, about the beauty of those white pills, the work that has gone into them, the potential they release,’ he said. Around him, journalists were nodding and taking notes, and he took a deep breath.
    ‘Each of us, I think, reaches a point where we search for the meaning in life, the point of it all. And my time at Pincent Pharma has really helped me in my search,’ he said. ‘It’s made me realise what’s important. Family. Loyalty. Progress.’
    He shot a smile at his grandfather, who was staring at him, a false smile fixed on his face.
    ‘Which is why,’ he said calmly, ‘I am not going to be signing the Declaration today. Or any day, in fact.’
    There was a gasp from the floor.
    ‘Of course you are,’ his grandfather interrupted menacingly. ‘Of course he is. Right now. Aren’t you, Peter?’
    Peter smiled. ‘Actually, no. You see, what I want is life. A real life, full of moments of joy, of anguish, of irritation, of fun. A life with an end point, which makes each second important. A life that is full of love, that doesn’t cause suffering and pain. Because that’s what Longevity does. It enslaves people, it ruins them.
    ‘This,’ he said quickly pulling off his prized ring, the ring he’d kept so carefully. ‘I thought it represented life. I thought it was important. But it isn’t.’ He looked at the ring for a second, the flower engraved on one side, ‘AF’ engraved on the other. Albert Fern. His great-grandfather’s ring. Looking back at the assembled journalists, he hurled it to the back of the room, throwing his grandfather a triumphant look. ‘It’s a Pincent family heirloom. And I despise the Pincents. I’d rather die than be a Pincent.’
    ‘And who knows, you may get your wish,’ his grandfather hissed angrily, as two guards appeared at Peter’s side, and started to drag him off the podium.
    ‘I don’t want anything to do with this place where Surpluses are tortured, where breeding farms are set up just so that people don’t have to have wrinkles. I want a life where people actually enjoy themselves,’ Peter shouted.