The only movement in the grody, concrete city came in the form of slivers of multi-colored litter wafting in the whispering breeze. Here and there the odd window remained unshuttered, and the light from Telescreens spilled onto the streets with a nervous glow.
The world held its breath.
Inside an apartment no different than any other, the Lineson family remained in a close embrace as they watched their screen.
“The Lottery Caller is now entering the building.” The news anchor said in a solemn voice.
Mrs. Lineson hugged her daughter tight as she tried to stifle a tear.
“Mommy, what’s wrong?”
Mrs. Lineson gave her daughter a loving glance. She was so young… How could she know of the evils of the world? How could she be taught of the horrible stagnation a society experiences in the twilight years of its existence, and that many prefer a quick and dramatic end than to continue languishing in an endless spiritual malaise? It would be impossible to teach her the history of the Lottery, and that despite its horrific consequences, most people agreed that keeping it was better than the alternative.
“It’ll be okay.” She told her daughter instead. She gave her another hug.
Baseless crime. Loneliness. Decadence. All could soon be washed away in a brilliant ball of fire.
“The Lottery Caller is now entering the studio.” The announcer said.
Cameras panned toward a small, unimpressive man with a billowing mop of wispy white hair. He walked unceremoniously to a spinning mesh chamber containing numerous white balls.
“As a result of the overwhelming discontentedness among the population, where a recent referendum saw a two-thirds majority vote, this most serious of lotteries has once more been issued.” The man said.
Mrs. Lineson closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath. Yes, she’d voted in favor of this, but that didn’t make her a monster. After all, she might be sparing her daughter the same tortured existence many in the world felt. In some ways, death might be the best gift she could offer…
…She tried not to think about it.
“Buried beneath every major city across the planet in strategic locations are Y-Bombs.” The man continued. “Should the results of this draw dictate it, every bomb will be set off instantly and simultaneously. Those of you in its blast radius will die, but you will experience no pain and no suffering. It will happen before you realize it’s happened. Those who survive, the sparse pockets of humanity scattered across the planet, will be tasked with rebuilding. You will be the unlucky ones, as yours will be a life of endless toil and hardship as you attempt to eek out a living in the ruins of our world.”
Mrs. Lineson momentarily imagined herself in the countryside. She imagined surviving the Reset and imagined the life that would follow.
She shook her head. It would be too difficult a life. She couldn’t force her daughter to live through such turmoil… Better they both die in the blast.
The Lottery Caller took a deep breath.
Everyone watching at home did the same.
The spinning mesh cage slowed, then stopped. The balls within tumbled to the bottom.
Mrs. Lineson squeezed her daughter tight.
The man reached a hand inside the cage.
Mrs. Lineson closed her eyes.
A small smattering of nervous laughter and a few excited claps coming from the Telescreen told her that the ball had been drawn, and that the results were favorable. Mrs. Lineson opened her eyes. She also gave a small laugh as her body loosened and her heartbeat returned to normal.
The screen showed a small, white ball with fingers clasped around it in such a way that they did not obscure the single word written across it.
‘SURVIVE’
Mrs. Lineson heard her neighbors cheering with joy, laughing, dancing… It was the first time many of them had celebrated anything in close to a decade.
“There you have it.” The Lottery Caller said in a surprisingly apathetic voice. “Civilization will continue. As per the rules, this ball will be removed, making the next call for destruction that much more likely should the Lottery ever be recalled.”
The camera flashed back to the news anchor, who despite years of stoic training, couldn’t help but look beyond elated. “And with that we bring the latest Lottery to a close. As you know, the Lottery was first conceptualized-“
But Mrs. Lineson wasn’t listening. Her laughter had melded with grateful tears, and all she could do was hug her daughter.