City of Cruelty and Copper (Temperance Era) by Rhiannon Paille

fortunate predicament, there were tests. These tests weren’t done in the sterile labs that existed now, these tests were done in the streets, in the little clay structures they call homes. I bounced from one founding family to the next, from scientists to doctors to politicians. I was passed around like a new species meant to be dissected. They poked and prodded me, tested my intelligence, interrogated me, you name it, they did it to me.
    After months of experimentation they deemed me an unlikely threat. I stayed with the Chungs while Temperance was formed. People from the mainland were brought over, thousands of refugees by day, in any manner and condition. Most of them were burn victims, all of them were radiation victims. Lots of them died. Michelle Chung was a doctor, so there was always someone screaming in her dwelling. I refuse to call it a house because when I lived in Argentina we had real houses. They were made with wood and bricks. They had plumbing, heat, air conditioning. Luxuries I would never know in my lifetime.
    My endless lifetime.
    Michelle Chung died a few years later. Her sons took over the family business, and their sons were the ones that began work on the underground labs. The Crays established a government at Central, they created Temperance Day. I was forced to make a speech every year. The Grims opened a school and created a curriculum. The Ketterlings excavated more of Temperance. They owned a mining company in Argentina. When there was an Argentina. The Gibbons were farmers, they solved the growing food issues. From what I understand, the Brightons were technology majors. Since there was no such thing as Apple anymore they were useless until an expedition to the former United States of America dug up enough equipment to run televisions throughout Temperance. There was technology, but without Hollywood, it became a public service announcement system.
    Preston Engel was the only religious man to survive the nuclear blasts. He was the eighth of the founding families and after everything that had happened, he lost his faith. I used to be Christian, going to a huge church in Buenos Aires with my parents once a month. The Senate voted against religion of any form, calling Temperance the new world, and with it new beliefs. The official religion in Temperance was no religion, not since I became Immortal anyway.
    At least they didn’t believe I was the second coming.
    A loud bang on the door knocked me out of my day dreaming. Due to the boredom I often put myself into a trance and pretended I was somewhere in the past. The past was easier than the present. I peeled my fifteen year old body off the floor and stood, squinting in the dark.
    “Drink the orange juice,” someone said through a voice modulator. I raised an eyebrow at the Brighton technology as the lead door slid open and a large man with a mask on his face stood a few feet away from my cell, stun gun pointed in my direction in one hand, voice modulator in the other. With the unformed plastic it was impossible to make out his face. He wore the standard issue one piece like everyone else, which also made it impossible for me to know who he was.
    I crouched, the metal canister within reach. My fingers grasped the container. Instead of drinking it I popped the top and hurled it at whoever it was, orange juice drenching the mask and seeping into modulator. The stun gun went off, hitting me square in the thigh. Volts of electricity shot through my body. I convulsed, falling on the floor in the cell. They didn’t know it, but the stun guns had no effect on me. When I was nine I watched a kid at church have an epileptic fit. It was the same idea. I lay on my back arms at my side and gradually let the shakes wear off.
    The masked man approached, standing over me. His breath smelled like fish. I cringed at the stench as the mask came off and the face of Colin Cray came into view. I thought about tripping him, flipping him onto his stomach, lifting his