The Last Generation

The Walk

"Your mom made a lovely dinner." Papa said as the two of them strolled down the empty neighborhood streets.

With the taste of vegetable stir fry and grilled pork still fresh in her mouth, Tiarna could not disagree. Her mom used to be terrible at cooking, but her cooking improved in tandem with the prices of eating at restaurants. To Tiarna's surprise, her mom's cooking even diversified, leading Tiarna to believe that her mom was using the Screen to obtain new recipes. Except, Mrs. He was not the sort to consult technology for intrinsically human aspects of life.

While the food had been as good as usual, Tiarna found the dinner conversation to be rather taxing on her mental health. Her mom had first given Papa a little too thorough of an update regarding Tiarna's mishap at school. Instead of mirroring her mom's intense concern, Papa exuded pride at his daughter's accomplishment, excitedly probing her thought process to better understand how she had gone through the examination so quickly. That had earned both of them a good scolding.

The topic had then shifted to Keith, and Papa's jovial mood grew increasingly sullen as her mom walked him through the mess in the living room followed by the confrontation in the bedroom. Of course, Tiarna kept her mouth shut. She had nothing to say in defense of her brother, who she had also become worried about. That particular topic reached an end when Mr. He pledged to talk to Keith, giving Mrs. He a knowing nod. Somehow, it appeared that the state Keith in did not truly worry Mr. He.

"Your mom's food is the best, it's something I look forward to coming home to whenever I travel." Papa told Tiarna. "It's so much better than those nutrition pills everybody seems to be eating nowadays." He grumbled, nose wrinkling in disgust.

Tiarna cocked her head to a side, recalling having seen those same coloured pills in the palms of her classmate's hands. In the past year or so, everybody at her institution had swapped out regular food for those pills. They came in an assortment of alluring colors and were tailored precisely for the individual's diet based on a deep study of the individual's health, history and goals. Tiarna's only concern was that the flavor of her favourite foods would be lost, but according to research papers she had picked up when the pills had first been rolled out, the individual could select the precise food he would like his pill to mimic. It was not just an equal replacement, it was much better.

As if catching a whiff of her thoughts, Papa resumed his rant. "It's stupid to think you could replace your daily nutrients with those pills believing it would help with fitness and health."

His words confused her further. "Don't they?"

Papa turned to look at Tiarna, his eyes widened at her question.

She tried to clarify herself, drawing upon her research. "Weren't those pills invented so we could just eat them without having to worry about the chemicals in our meat, bad cholesterol or even getting fat? Those pills are supposed to help us function beyond a potential our body can naturally reach on its own."

Now, Papa stopped walking entirely. His eyebrows knitted together in a tight ball as he leaned down slightly to look at Tiarna. To really and truly look at her, within her, through her. She was close to wilting under his investigative gaze, but trusted Papa to call her out when he found necessary. So, she stared back into his light brown eyes, a few shades brighter than her own, as he squinted and searched her hard. A part of Tiarna wanted Papa to look deeper and report the problem she knew to be hers all along.

"Tiarna, whatever you've read or you've been told, you can't trust your eyes or your ears." Papa coached, "You can only truly trust yourself. Just pause for a moment and think. Those pills are manufactured, aren't they?"

She nodded, trying to keep up with Papa's mind.

"If they're manufactured, my girl, what is in them?"