Improvement: Noun, to be improved. The act of adding or removing select genes in a person to rid them of certain deficiencies in order to create the perfect human race. The Improvement is, according to legislation introduced in 2178 by Uther Pendragon, used to 'remove a rare gene from the genome and replace it with harmless DNA; this gene causes a rare disease called the EMRYS condition that causes dangerous abnormalities in the host.' It is a harmless procedure and allows the unlucky afflicted to lead happy, healthy lives and gives their children a chance at a better future.

"So, are you due for testing?" Arthur asked the man sitting next to him. He didn't respond, so Arthur sighed and shifted, picking up a newspaper from the table. He caught a glimpse of his sister's face- fierce, pale, suffering- and quickly flicked over to the TV page. He could feel the hostile glares of the room on the back of his neck, and tried his hardest to look unbothered.

There was going to be the season finale of a show Arthur liked, Tintagel, the Monday after next. Apparently the girl who wrote the article knew the guy who cut one of the screenwriter's hair, and he said that the main villain was going to be revealed as an EMRYS sufferer. Across the room a skinny guy with balding hair snorted.

"Pure propaganda, that is. You know, you used to be able to get real, proper entertainment before the purges began. Not this government mandated shite."

"Cedric-"

"Don't you see? They're sucking the life out of us. It's all been done before, when people get too caught up their own arses to see what's right in front of them. There are history books you can get, real ones, and they tell you the real stories. This isn't the first time this has happened-"

Arthur couldn't stop himself. "Oh, do you actually believe those fairy stories? I doubt there was ever a time humans were truly so lawless."

The balding man leapt up from his seat, lunging at Arthur. Two people sitting beside him tugged him back, but his nostrils were flaring. "It isn't about lawlessness, Pendragon! It's about what's inside the human soul- and I'm not talking about that EMRYS rubbish."

Arthur stood up from his chair. "Scientists have looked inside our DNA and they know what we're made of. There may have been a time we had to rely on luck to survive the seasons, but that time is past. Accept it."

The balding man slumped back down. "I had much higher hopes for you, Pendragon."

"I had higher hopes for my day than this." Arthur muttered. He thought back to the evening before.

Arthur had been a cop (he hoped he still was one after this whole debacle). He had led a raid on a small warehouse the evening before. They had received an anonymous message telling them to go to the warehouse because there was a group of EMRYS-afflicted insurgents living there, trying to escape improvement. However, once they arrived, Arthur was horrified to see his sister among the crowd.

He couldn't forget the ugly, cowardly squalor that they lived in. That was what happened when the EMRYS gene was allowed to run free. And then he would remember himself flying back as his sister's eyes turned gold and he would feel angry all over again.

There was a time when people had to live with this. Arthur had seen the videos. People used to suffer all manner of horrors. Crime, starvation, homelessness. Three times before his father stepped in the entire world had been at war with each other. Then, a small council of dedicated men and women got together to save the world. They instituted new laws that ensured no one had to go without food, healthcare, or the other basic necessities of life.

Once they had saved the world from disorder and war, they began to work on improving the people. These people should be thanking his father on bended knee. Because of him, they got to back happy and healthy, not afraid and squatting in their own cowardice, as they used to.

Because people feared the afflicted, and rightly so. It was an insidious, chronic disease that attacked the empathy centres of the brain and made them lose sight of who they were as a person. Slowly, they would inevitably turn to violence and crime to satiate their desire for bloodshed. If Arthur did possess that gene (he didn't think he did) he knew he would want it gone as fast as possible.

Once they got the center for Control and Testing of the EMRYS Condition, they would be processed and tattooed to mark them as one of the lucky ones who were given free help. It was a small price to pay for a happy life free of crime.

Arthur felt someone shift into place in the empty seat beside him. The guy was tall, thin, and had a kind smile and blue eyes. If he had been healthy, he probably would have been very handsome, but the disease had taken it from him. He was thin to the point of emaciation, his cheekbones hollow and his eyes hard. Arthur shifted unconsciously into a defensive stance- the man was obviously diseased.

"You're Arthur Pendragon." He said. "You're Uther's son."

Arthur could hear angry muttering throughout the room. He knew his father's treatments were unpopular among the afflicted. He knew the statistics. Depending on how early they noticed the condition, roughly one in four people who underwent the improvement died. However, every single day that number went down, and there was no better way for them to help than to be part of a control group for new and innovative cures.

"So what if I am?" Arthur responded. He looked the man up and down. "I doubt you would be able to afford it on your own, anyway."

The tall man snorted. "What do you know about being 'cured,' Pendragon? Has your father told you the truth about this, or only the little lies he uses so he can sleep at night?"

"You're insane. The lot of you. You can't help it, you've been diseased."

The tall man's eyes seemed to bore into Arthur, and he shifted, uncomfortable. "Is that really what you think, Pendragon? Do you really support an institution that advocates for the killing of children?"

Arthur leapt to his feet again, nervous energy making his whole body taut. "For god's sake, I'm not my father! I'm just a cop, I have a responsibility to keep the citizens of the city safe. And that means keeping them safe from you." He said, pointing at the tall man. "And you." To the balding one. "And, yes, from you as well!" He shouted, pointing at Morgana, who he had tried so hard to ignore. "I swore that I would protect as many people as I could, and if it means risking a few lives in the process, then so be it."

He sat down. The silence rang like a church bell in his ears, loud and all-encompassing.

A little boy huddled close to Morgana. "I'm scared, 'Gana, I don't want to die."

Arthur put his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees and squeezed his eyes tightly shut. He stayed that way until a doctor with kind eyes poked his head out the door.

"Number one? You all got your numbers, right? I need number one, Morgause Gorlois?"

A tall blonde woman with lots of eyeliner stood up from next to Morgana. "I'll see you on the other side."

Slowly, people filtered out until it was only him and the tall starving man left. Arthur turned his head to face the other man and opened and closed his mouth a few times, like he wanted to say something but he didn't quite know the words yet.

"When you get to the other side, the people you thought you knew will be changed." The tall man said. "Some of the people here will be your allies, some won't. You want to figure out which is which before you end up with a knife in your back."

"And where do you count yourself?"

The tall man chuckled, leaned in so that all Arthur could focus on was his intense blue eyes. "I'm no cop." A pause, and he was going to throw Arthur's words back in his face, wasn't he. "But I have a responsibility to keep all people safe. Even if it means keeping them safe from you."

The tall man was called away a scant second later, but his words hung cloying in the air like a riddle that Arthur didn't quite want to know the answer to.