Personal Database #25

Subject: TLOM- 3645. Formerly known as Wyn Rivera, MOLT 0, age 0-19.

<Medical Record: see HEALTH DATABASE #475>

<Behavioral Record: see SOCIOLOGICAL DATABASE #373>

Purpose Of Written Study: Post-TLOM psychological analysis

Time to MOLT 1: N/A

Intellectual Property of the Governance of MOLT, Central Division

March 31, 2254

"Tell me, how does it feel to give up a year of your life for no reason?"

Those were the words I woke up to this afternoon. I was in a white TLOM jumpsuit, strapped down to a cold cot in the middle of the kind of sterile room that reminds you of horror movies and death.

Wow, I just misspelled death. At least I can go back and fix it...that's one of the advantages of the written logs. You can't take back what you say. I can't take back all the less-than-ladylike things I screamed into my microphone when they came for me: four guys in hazmat suits carrying a stretcher between them. I hope you'll forgive me- it's not every day that you get sedated by the government and carried off to some kind of lab/hospital. 

My best bet at the time was that this was all part of the evaluation- some kind of weird, Governance-style personality test. But if it was, what was Chancellor Azro doing here? And why was she mocking me...or maybe she wasn't mocking me. Maybe I'm just so immature that I assume everyone else is, too. 

Anyway, y'all know me well enough by now to know that I'm a simple person. So I hope you won't judge my very meaningful and eloquent answer to Vazilia Azro, Chancellor of the Governance and leader of Freziere. 

"Huh?" 

If she was offended, she didn't show it. She just got right into explaining what she had meant. "Rooted in the false belief that your TLOM- well, former TLOM- couldn't MOLT without you, you gave up your chances at your own MOLT. What you didn't know was that the Governance is more than capable of reassigning Complements. You are not the first of your kind, Wyn Rivera...or should I say, TLOM-3645?"

"T-TLOM?" That got my attention. I assumed they had just put me in the jumpsuit because it was the only clothing available at the time. I never thought...I never dreamed...

Terra was right. 

"That's right," Azro said, smiling. I couldn't tell if it was a smug smile or one meant to cheer me up. And I still didn't know why on Earth the Chancellor had come to visit me for no reason. It wasn't exactly in keeping with the Governance's efficiency standards. 

"If you are worried about your plans for future employment with the Governance, fear not. We are here to take care of you...not the other way around. In exactly a year, you will be assigned as a TLOM to a Birth MOLT. You will antagonize that Birth MOLT and create emotional conflict within her, and then, you will beat her up the ladder. You will beat her to the MOLT. If things go according to plan, you will be hired right out of the operating room. You're different, TLOM, and the Governance is always looking for different. You would be a perfect fit for any department you could choose. I promise you, this year will only be a minor setback in the grand scheme of your success. I'm sure there won't even be room to mention it in your biography." 

"Has it always been like this? Will it always be like this?" Most of what she said went in one ear and out the other. I didn't want to be cheered up. I wanted answers. "Will we always have to push someone else down to climb up? Because I thought the MOLT was supposed to be about insects, and caterpillars don't kill other caterpillars to turn into butterflies." 

"The insect metaphor is only used to explain the philosophy behind the MOLT." It took Azro half as long to come up with her answers as it took me to come up with my questions. Something about talking to her just made me feel incredibly stupid. "I wish the MOLT could be done another way, I really do, but we've considered all the options. If we allowed anyone to MOLT whenever they wanted to, people would abuse the system. If we hoarded the MOLT, on the other hand, we would create a privileged and oppressive elite of MOLTs. The current system, though not ideal, is the best way to ensure that everyone can MOLT...when they are ready and deserving." 

Gosh, this woman is hard to hate. Everything she says makes so much sense that you can't even blame her. But I shouldn't be blaming her. I shouldn't want to blame her. The only person at fault here is me. I was so stupidly vengeful without even knowing the whole story that I threw away an entire year of my own life. The system is flawed, but I'm more flawed. I deserve to be a TLOM. I deserve worse. 

"Yeah...I get it," I finally managed to say. That was hands-down one of the most embarrassing moments of my life. There I was, laying down in front of the person who singlehandedly saved the human race from extinction, knowing that we both knew all about the terrible mistake I just made. I wanted to apologize, I wanted to make it right, but something told me that anything I said would just make it worse. 

So I did what people do when they're embarrassed. 

I changed the subject. 

"Why are you here anyway? Out of the dozens of Birth-MOLTs who must've become TLOMs today, why me?" 

Azro smiled. "Something told me you'd ask. I'm not here to be your personal cheerleader, or even to make you feel guilty about what you've done. I'm here with an offer...you see, I see something in you that I haven't seen in all my years at the Governance. You don't just accept things the way they are. You look at something that's imperfect, and you're angry. You want to fix it, to make it better for yourself and for everyone else around you even if that means putting yourself in danger. When something goes wrong, the only person you point fingers at is yourself. I know this sounds too sentimental to be accepted by the Governance, but I see myself in you. Before long, I'll reach MOLT 32, and I..." 

"I want you to succeed me." 

I don't know whether the stress was getting to me, or if that was just one surprise too many, but the only thing I could do was laugh. I guffawed loudly, shaking the restraints that kept me tied to the surface underneath me. I laughed at the irony of it all...I had just looked like a fool in front of every Birth-MOLT my age, and the Chancellor wanted me to be the next Chancellor? 

Now, I know you Governance folks were expecting this entire log entry to be a justification for what I said next. Hopefully, at this point, you've realized that it's not. Because I don't think what I said next requires much of an explanation. You're psychoanalysts- you know what you're doing- and what I said next was simple enough. 

"No."