We older Kates saw the crisis coming long before the younger ones did, I think.
Well, that's not necessarily accurate. I think everyone knew that if we managed t maintain a decent life expectancy, we were going to hit a critical point where the older Kates couldn't work and our population and resource limits would force a lot more labour on the youngsters until us older ones started dying off to make room for replacements. It's fairly obvious when you think about it, and we have a whole logistics division for thinking about this sort of thing.
But us older Kates paid more attention. To the youngsters, it was some far-off thing that would hit eventually. To us, well, whenever a joint became a little harder to bend, a limb became a little more painful to move, a sense became a little duller, we were aware of the ticking clock. And we knew that eventually, when the youngsters decided the situation was untenable, a decision would be made, and it would be our arses on the line. (We know how Kates think, see.) So by the time it was decided that something must be done about the ageing population, by the time that critical vote was held, we were prepared. We'd been prepared for years.
I think the Kate across from me – Dotty, her name is – is a little surprised at just how quickly us oldies agreed on a spokesperson to send to her. She doesn't know that I was picked for this job over a year ago. Before I had to retire from foldgate duty, I'd been the first Kate that most new Kates see, and that impression goes surprisingly far. I was probably the first Kate that Dotty ever saw, although I'm not certain – I don't remember every Kate. I'd at least have been the first Kate that a couple of her Kate ancestors had seen, so the memories are there. She watches me quite coldly from the other side of the table, nevertheless.
"So," I say. "You've decided to kill us."
Pink tints her cheeks. "That's not what's happening."
"It's mass murder and you know it."
"It's a time skip! You know how we do things. The Kate that comes out first, the one from making the copy, is the one who made the copy. If we put you through and pause – "
"Don't you go lecturing me of all people on how printing Kates works! You want to put us in that gate, let it dissolve us, and not pull us out the other side. We call that murder."
"By that logic, it's murder every time we copy someone. It won't be forever. Those of you who go in will be reprinted when there's space for – "
"That's never going to happen and you know it. You can make all the promises and draw up all the charters you want, but we both know that when there's room for more Kates, nobody's going to be printing arthritic seventy-year-olds instead of fresh young engineers. We won't be doing this."
"You don't have a choice. You were outvoted. Eighty per cent of the Kates over the age of sixty five will be preserved until our capacity allows – "
"Preserved," I spit. "At least come up with a good euphemism. We won't be doing this."
"You don't have a choice. It's going to happen. Don't make it more unpleasant than it needs to be."
"You know, if I was still running the foldgate – "
"But you aren't. And you won't be allowed anywhere near it, unless your name is drawn for preservation and you have to go through it. Until then, this meeting – " Dotty's cut off by a sudden piercing alarm. "What's that?!"
"Well, in my vast experience at surviving inside this colony that apparently doesn't mean anything to you people, I'd have to say that that's an airlock failure alarm. Airlock two, would be my guess."
The sound grows louder and faster.
"And that would be the airlock two failure alarm and the airlock one failure alarm ringing at the same time. Oh, and... is that airlock four? It's honestly impossible to tell with them layered over each other like this. And of course, my hearing isn't what it used to be."
