The Akira Protocol

Blue sky is something taken for granted. Humans are acutely tuned to the world they were meant to be born in. A dark sky means rain, a black sky means storms, and a red sky means war or worse. The sky of Terra 8 was red. At first, Kurt thought it was beautiful. Everyone thought so at first. As the months passed, the red sky and orange sun began to bother him. More and more it became a reminder of the hostile environment desperately trying to kill him and everyone else in the colony.

Kurt along with several hundred others were meant to live their whole lives on Terra 8. The planet was habitable to humans, but barely so. It was certainly not meant to be a long term colony. In only a few generations, radiation would damage enough cells on all the inhabitants and their offspring for cancer and illness to drive them to extinction. Instead, Kurt and his brethren pioneers were to spend their whole lives on the rock, turning it into a glorified gas station. The red sky only helped to remind Kurt of the hopelessness of his life as he labored on one of the exterior panels of the habitat.

Though the colony had multiple engineers, biologists, and other highly trained personnel, it also required grunts. Kurt checked the box to be one of these muscled mechanics and, should the need arise, soldier. He called out to the rest of his crew as they worked down below him. Though the sky had changed little, the sun had sunk low. "Alright, hook it back up," Kurt bellowed from the scaffolding.

A few other men started to move around a control box down at the base of the building. The signal panel in front of Kurt lit up as diagnostics for his panel started to run. He turned to give his coworkers a thumbs up when he saw it starting. On his platform twenty feet up, he could see the full side of the docking bay where fueling cells were being installed, directly over where his crew worked. A generator coil turned on while exposed. Kurt yelled at his men to move.

The coil's safety features activated, but not before an arc of pure, white energy lashed out and struck nearby crates, destabilizing the stack. The flames erupted almost immediately, and Kurt watched as fire and metal started to tumble down on his men. They noticed right as the first box crashed down in the middle of them. He leapt over his railing and started heading down two or three steps at a time. As he descended, he could hear the screams.

Kurt landed on the ground with a thud. The falling debris had stopped, but a new fire raged at the control box for the panels. He saw a few onlookers paralyzed by the sight, "You!" he shouted, "Fire suppressants in the hallways! Quickly."

Smoke billowed and plumed, caught in the small area between buildings where they worked. One of his men hobbled by, clutching his arm. Another two ran out, coughing and wheezing. Kurt dove headlong into the small inferno. The area was almost clear, except for two bodies. He recognized one as Matthew, one of his newest workers and likely one of the youngest members of the colony. Matthew was conscious, but struggling to get up. Thinking quickly, Kurt pulled off his shirt and pushed it into Matthew's hands, "Cover your mouth," he shouted. "Can you see?" Matthew nodded, but struggled to keep his eyes open. "Good, crawl that way, don't try to stand, stay below the smoke until you've caught your breath. Can you do that?" Again Matthew nodded and with a look of appreciation, started to crawl out of the smoke filled area.

Kurt turned his attention to the other person. Trying his best not to inhale too much of the smoke, he checked over the unconscious body. He didn't know the woman and wondered how she had managed to be underneath the wreckage. Her face was covered in soot and blistered from the fire. Her jumpsuit had caught fire at one point, but she or someone else had managed to smother them out. Her left leg was mangled. She must have fallen from above. Kurt grabbed the woman's arm and hoisted her over his back. His heart pumped faster and faster as adrenaline coursed though his veins. He set a heading for the clear air twenty yards away and started to move. The woman was as light as a feather, but the toxic air sapped the mechanic's strength. He managed to make the trek without faltering. As the air cleared, his lungs took in a final huge gust of the miasma, and he collapsed, using his body to cushion the fall for the woman he'd rescued.

Immediately, others swarmed around him. Men in uniforms gathered up the injured woman and put her on a board before she was carried off to the medical ward. Another pair of men attempted to do the same with Kurt, but he waved them off. When they tried again, he stood up to his full height and pushed them away by force. He was not done yet. Remy's crew was working on the loading docks. He glared up at the gawkers hanging over the ledge up above and set out to find Remy.

***

Kurt stalked through the corridors. Around him rushed the emergency workers and police, a few of whom glanced warily at the burly man, but none tried to stop him. He made his way up through the port building towards the new fueling station where he knew Remy would be. As he emerged onto the open platform, he heard the other crew chief's voice shouting orders. The fire had been contained, and they were beginning to clean up the resulting mess.

Remy was not a man of small stature, but in comparison to Kurt he looked almost boyish. He saw the other man coming towards him and dodged seconds before Kurt's fist slammed in the side of his head. "Fuck are you doing, Kurt? You gone mental?"

With surprising speed, Kurt wheeled across and landed a blow to Remy's stomach, causing him to crumple. "You're reckless! You've always been reckless! I'm tired of your fuck ups injuring my and everyone else's men!" Kurt's fist came down again, but Remy managed to roll away and spring to his feet. Kurt pivoted and planted himself as Remy struck out with a punch of his own. The smaller man's fist slammed into Kurt's shoulder with a quiet thud. In exchange, Kurt's hand lashed out and grabbed Remy by the throat. With a roar, Kurt threw the other man down like a rag doll. He followed quickly with a kick to Remy's ribs. The smaller man held up his hands and waited for the seething giant to beat him to death.

Kurt had no intention of relenting. It was not the first time that Remy's carelessness had resulted in others being injured, but if Kurt had his way it would be the last. He pulled his arm back, and as his arm came down on its way to crush Remy's skull, Kurt felt needles hit his back. An instant later, his body seized and went rigid as electricity caused his muscles to spasm. He fell straight forward onto Remy and blacked out.

***

Kurt woke in a small cell. Detention, he thought. He had wound up in a similar cell several nights after having too many at the canteen.

"So you're awake then," came Remy's sniveling voice. Kurt looked over to see the other man in the opposite cell. His face was bruised and swollen, but he still managed to give a leering smile. "How was your beauty sleep, chief?"

Kurt sat up. His muscles were stiff and ached. Move around. Get the blood flowing. He stood up from the cot and started to swing his arms. As his muscles warmed up, the pain faded away. "Why are you locked up?"

Remy's face soured, "I've been held responsible, albeit in a more dignified way than you'd have it. They actually want to have a trial before killing me."

"And what's that to you," Kurt replied. "Just another day figuring out whose palm to grease."

Remy shook his head, "You've still got it wrong. The barracks fire wasn't my fault. Merrick was drunk and --"

"Merrick never drank a day in his life!" Kurt growled. "He dies in a fire that you were suspiciously involved in. You get promoted and he gets buried on this fuckin rock!"

"Merrick drank every day of his life!" Remy shouted back. "You didn't know him as well as you thought you did. The old fool shouldn't have been trying to fix the regulator alone anyway. The rest of the crew was lucky I was there."

"And that woman earlier today?" Kurt hissed. "Was she lucky you were on the job?"

Remy's face fell for a moment, and then he scowled again, "Your crew didn't put out a notice about the disconnect in the circuit!"

"And you breached protocol by hooking an exposed coil into an unchecked grid!"

"Enough!" bellowed a new voice. A man in uniform stepped into view, Kurt sighed in aggravation. "Not happy to see me, Kurt?"

"Of course I'm happy to see you, Elliot," Kurt muttered. "When was the last time you came bearing bad news? Remy, you know the Head of Colony Security, don't you?" Remy smirked and made a rude gesture. "Hey Elliot, you never said how that little rat fucker got you to pass on him last time. Did he give you a blowjob a week? I mean that's probably enough to cover the not guilty verdict, but to land the promotion? Crew chief is a good job, that's worth at least one ass-fuck a month? Hope he didn't short change you there, Elliot?"

Elliot did not look amused. "Know when to shut the fuck up, Kurt. Let's try to be civil. This is not going to be easy for anyone." The older man's grave voice stopped Kurt's next torrent of accusations. "I'm going to let you out. We're to go up and sit in the interview room and discuss what happens next. I'd like to do that without keeping you in chains. Same for you Remy."

Kurt noticed that Elliot didn't meet Remy's eye. "Sure boss, I'll be good."

Remy nodded and Elliot called for them to be released.

***

They traveled up through the complex and arrived at a room Kurt had seen several times before. He'd watched several of the interrogations after the barracks fire from behind the window. Now he felt the unseen eyes looking at him. The air in this sector was chilly, and he wondered what had happened to his shirt. Remy was seated beside him, still nursing his eye, and very wary of the big man next to him him. On the opposite side of the table, Elliot sat reading through a file.

Kurt usually had no reason to come to this sector of the colony. He lived in the barracks and worked outside. In his free time, he visited the dirty areas of the colony where folk like him passed the time. This sector was occupied for governing purposes. As a result, it was sterile and clean, an affront to Kurt's sensibilities and another reminder that the governors saw this as a temporary place. For years he'd known Elliot to be a decent fellow, until he was appointed to Head of Security. Now he had the same harried look as all the other officials.

Elliot cleared his throat and adjusted the cuff of his sleeve. He closed the file in front of him and tapped the cover. Kurt noticed sweat around the man's collar despite the temperature. "Come on," Kurt prodded. "You're making me nervous with all this mincing."

Elliot gave a tight smile, "I'm afraid the situation is a bit more serious than you understand, Kurt. The woman earlier, in the fire, she died." Both of the mechanic's faces paled.

"Well that's tragic and all, but an accident is an accident," Remy rambled out. "We have fellas get injured all the time. We're on a rock in the middle of no where, this kind of thing happens from time to time."

"You're right," Elliot said, his voice trembling. "And had it been a 'fella' then we wouldn't have much of an issue."

"What're you on about?" Kurt demanded, his voice becoming impatient.

Elliot took another slow breath. "After the incident, I was called to a meeting of the governors. While you two were brawling on docking bay, I was being briefed about the death of one of our youngest women. Do either of you recall Akira's number?"

Kurt had a vague recollection of something he learned in primary school, but Remy responded instantly, his voice graver than ever before. "Akira's number is the number of genetically viable females required to sustain a colony population through its purpose."

"Correct," Elliot answered. "The number changes over time, fluctuating in regards to the required personnel. This colony's current number is 94. With the death of your worker this evening, we have only 84 viable candidates remaining."

"In the whole colony? That's crazy?" Kurt blurted out. "I grew up with two dozen girls at least."

Elliot nodded, "It is a complex issue that is well above my pay grade. In brief, no one is immune to accidents, and fertility rates have been very low. On our current trajectory, the colony will start being understaffed in one generation, in two we will not have enough people to complete our mission, and in three our descendants will be stranded in the dying shell of this facility. Of course it won't stop with the colony's death. A message transmitted from here won't reach the next human outpost for a hundred years. In that time, more relay flights from Earth will arrive expecting the fueling station to be operational. If they're lucky, they'll have fuel to get back. Or they'll die here as well."

"Fuck," Remy whispered.

Kurt had heard these scenarios before, but not from an actual government official. Despite the dour mood in the room, a question nagged at him, "Sorry, Elliot, that really fuckin sucks. But what does any of that have to do with us. If anything, you should be packing us off to get back to work."

Elliot tapped the folder once again. "Akira's work in colony sustainability provided new avenues of research and development. Akira is known for his number, but there is also something called the Akira Protocol. It's a treatment which can alter the gender of a subject." He paused for a moment and opened the folder. "These are two writs signed by the governors, one declaring each of you an exile. You are to be treated for any injuries, and then released into the wasteland. Remy, you were found accountable for the death of a worker. Kurt, attempted murder."

Kurt's head started to pound. Exile. Wandering that waste until I died of dehydration. Elliot slid the documents over to them. Kurt tried to read it, but the whole page was a blur.

Remy laughed softly, "Elliot, don't you guys ever worry that out there in the wastes are a bunch of vindictive exiles building an army to come tear down everything here?"

No, they don't, Kurt thought. They know how quickly people die out there. "So, the Akira Protocal thing," he said. "I guess you're offering that as an alternative."

Elliot rubbed his hands nervously. "Yes. You wouldn't be exiled. After the uh...procedure, you would relocated to a different sector. You would receive governmental care and a top priority rank, at least until you have provided a child or, rather, a daughter to replace you."

"So, we become a breeder or we wander around in the wastes until we die," Kurt said, flatly. "Not much of a choice there, Elliot."

"Do I at least get to pick out my own dress?"

***

Elliot handed them off to a science officer who led them away. The older man couldn't look at them as they filled out all the paperwork. Kurt guessed that this wasn't the first time he'd had to strike this deal. Remy remained uncharacteristically quiet as they walked through the corridors. They passed others who either smiled or backed away from the lumbering figure of Kurt. He rolled his neck from side to side, wondering exactly how much longer he would have a muscled body that made the little government officials balk.

The science officer explained the process and showed them a little orange vial. Such a small thing that could change the entire body of a human. Of course, the scientist rambled on about body chemistry and genetics and DNA and all sorts of other things, but Kurt barely listened. What did it matter? One way or the other, he would be a woman before morning.

They finally deposited the two men in a room that reminded Kurt of his own barracks except smaller. A half dozen beds were laid out across the room and various medical equipment lined the walls. Kurt figured it was used for emergency medical care when needed. Or maybe the population had withered more than he'd noticed. He dropped down on a bed to wait while Remy paced nervously.

"It was an old Earth problem," Remy muttered. "Before the Exodus, a big portion of the occupied land was like 70% male or something like that. Not enough women for men. Major societal problems started cropping up. That's when Akira came up with all the research. See, they think that the colonization research came first, but it was the other way around. He created the serum first and then the protocol so that it could be applied to dying colonies. They should pay more attention to their holodisks."

Kurt growled at him, "I could still bash your head in if you'd like."

Remy noticed the lumbering figure glaring at him and went quiet. They waited in silence for another half hour before the door opened. A man wearing a face mask came in, and behind him came Elliot.

"We had some nasty business with someone before. Apparently she resented her choice," Elliot explained, gesturing to the mask. "Our staff has decided to use more precautions as a result."

"What about you?" Kurt asked.

Elliot shrugged, "We all must live with our sins. Some bear it differently than others." He gestured at the masked man who produced two syringes. "You're not going to resist?" Elliot asked cautiously. Kurt noted the stun gun on his hip.

"Looking forward to it," Kurt replied. For some reason, he pitied for the older man.

Elliot nodded to the tech once more, and the syringe went into Kurt's arm. The serum stung as it filtered into his veins. The process was repeated for Remy, the smaller man looking white as a sheet. Once the tech finished, he gathered the tray and left the room. Elliot remained, "One last thing. I won't see either of you again after this so it's time we settled old debts."

Remy sighed, "Why bother?" He rubbed his arm where the needle had been.

Elliot turned his attention to Kurt. "You were right, almost. Merrick's death was not an accident. You probably remember that Merrick's wife was one of the governors. She opposed my becoming head of security. Remy wanted Merrick's job, and I wanted Merrick's wife out of the way. When he died, she resigned, and her replacement voted me in."

Kurt nodded, solemnly. "That it?"

Elliot, "That's the why. The how doesn't matter. I've given the full story to the governors. They're finding my replacement. Once they do, I will be leaving the colony."

Remy gazed at his fellow conspirator with venomous anger, "Why throw it away now?"

Elliot made his way to the door. "I made my choices for my own good. Men like me are what caused the colony to wither and risked its death. One man's blood is on my hands already. I have found that difficult to bear. I don't think I could carry a single other." He let out a long sigh. "I've done one last thing. It's not an act of contrition, but perhaps a way to make things slightly better. I had them draw up two versions of the serum. One regular, and one with a delayed reaction." He gave them one last dry smile and disappeared through the door. It sealed behind him with a hiss of compressed air.

Kurt stared down at his hands, waiting for some sensation to alert him of the changes. Instead, Remy drew his attention. "Oh that motherfucker," the smaller man said. "This is just....not cool." He collapsed on the bed, clutching his stomach. "Well then Kurt, looks like you come out of this the bigger man one last time. You better enjoy it. Fuck, I better enjoy it too. Here, let me make it a show for you."