Greedy Pigs

By Carolyn Galbraith

Well, hello! No, don’t apologise, I wasn’t startled at all. You caught me working, but I’m always working. This sort of place keeps you busy.

Let me show you around. No, it’s no bother, you can follow me about as I get to my chores. Carry something? You can take this pail. It’s full of all the best parts, that’s what they like to eat. 

We’ll start with the aviary. Oh, don’t be alarmed! You don’t need to hide, the cage here is locked up tight. They’re big, though, and those beaks are sharp, and there’s something about them, something about their eyes. They’re looking at you, but not at you, exactly, they’re looking at your flesh. Imagining tearing pieces off it, bit by bit.

I’ve frightened you! I’m sorry! We’ll move on from the vultures. I’d forgotten they’d had a feed yesterday when the last — I mean, when I last fed them. To the left?

Yes, we’ve got crystals here, the same as everyone else. Why not? Every citizen got a share of them, once they were discovered, and once they worked out how useful they were. Those crystals provide all the energy we need here, and more. Heating, cooling, running all the machines. We’ve got the air-to-water machines, the food printers, the auto-cleaners. No one really has to work anymore, not since we each got our share. 

Careful, it’s dark in here. Don’t worry! The snakes are behind glass. Oh no, we’re careful with these ones. All poisonous, of course, full of deadly venom. Sly and sneaky, these particular ones. They like to wrap themselves around you as though you’re very best of friends — and then they bite.

Pretty? Those scale patterns are just mesmerising, aren’t they? Part of how they lure you in, you’re so busy looking at their gorgeous skin, you don’t notice the teeth. Oh, don’t be scared; they’re not looking at you, not now. Too busy sunning themselves under the heat lamps. 

I have a story for you about that one, there; see the red one, with the pale belly? Yes, it notices anything sparkling, your earrings, your bangles. Reminds me of someone I once knew; couldn’t tell one face from the next, they were attracted to what was shiny, spangled. Didn’t seem to really enjoy the sight, though, not in the way you or I would. He’d take away those things that he liked, and lock them away, rarely seeing them again. It was knowing he could take them away and own them, that was important. Not the person who wore them, or why they wore them. It never occurred to him that people chose their adornments for a reason; that there was a meaning behind a ring with a name engraved around it, or a locket with a picture inside — or a polished staff of olive wood. That, of course, was his downfall.

Oh, of course. The social credits. Well, those are awarded to people who choose to do the jobs that no one really wants to do. Tedious, unpleasant work, that’s rewarded with social credits. Once you’ve got those, well, you’re a citizen, you get to share in all the rewards.

Rewards? The rewards are the crystals. Participating in the good things in life doesn’t need to be rewarded. I’m talking about creating music, art, dance, putting on concerts and shows, sports tournaments, poetry slams. And night life? Anyone who wants to can open up a pub, spend their evenings serving up creatively plated foods, communal drinks. That’s how it works, you do the things you enjoy. Education’s run by people who actually like children, elder care centres by those garrulous types who love to chat. Yes, there’s car rallies and races, even if most of our transport’s public. Healthcare? Once we found those crystals, most of those old diseases disappeared. Plenty of people volunteer in medical services because they’re always able to help people, and people are happy to be helped. 

However, despite almost every problem being resolved, one remains. Greedy pigs. 

Greedy pigs don’t care how much they have, as long as it’s much, much more than everyone else. Greedy pigs don’t care what they’re storing up, so long as they are envied. Greedy pigs don’t want things because they love and value things, but because they can use those things to lord it over others. Greedy pigs love power. 

Still got the pail? Pour it in here. Listen to them snuffling and snorting! You’d think they’d never been fed, when they get this slop day after day. It’s all they want, you know, more and more, so long as it’s more than anyone else. Then they lie about all day in the sun, doing nothing. It’s a dream life, really; the life they dreamed of having. In a way.

Oh, you’re going so soon? I haven’t shown you the filthy rats, yet, or the ravenous wolves. They’re here, too, locked up safely. That’s my job, it’s always been in the family, we don’t need a reward for it. We enjoy it.

My family name? Circe. I’m sure you’ve heard of it. We’ve always had a thing for greedy pigs. We’ve been keeping them on this island for a very, very long time.

About the Author

Carolyn Galbraith is a writer and academic living on Darug land in the Blue Mountains beyond Sydney.

She's published speculative stories in Aurealis and Claws Out Literary, as well as stories for children in The School Magazine, and is working on a book of short stories about the end of the world.