VII

Whirr.

I heard the curtains slide open, before the alarm went off. I'd been up for at least an hour, but too warm to venture from the safety of my bed.

Blip, blip, blip, blip.

There was a slight pause, before the annoying sequence repeated. Dragging myself out of bed, I went to the Home Screen and pressed my palm to the center spot, stopping the alarm.

"Good morning, Samantha." the computer started. "Today, you have school. You will need your school uniform. After school, you must change into the proper attire for your Fixing." The clothes chute opened, revealing a neatly stacked pile of clothes, and I groaned once I remembered that today was the Fixing. I was not looking forward to that.

"Please remember to properly dispose of your sleeping uniform, and prepare for the day." the computer finally clicked off, and I grumbled angrily to myself as I changed. To top it off, it was the first day of the week, so Simon was going to drag me to the Market. For probably the hundredth time, I cursed the Trademaster, who had just out of the blue, five years ago, decided that he couldn't make deliveries to the school anymore.

But then again, if he hadn't done that, I never would've met Agnes. Then I'd still be taking those awful pills, and I never would've gotten to know Astria.

I caught my breath, leaning against the wall. Even the name brought up memories so painful I gasped for air.

I take it back. I hate the Trademaster, for stopping his school deliveries. I wish I'd never gotten to know Agnes, I wish I was still addicted to those pills, because I wish I'd never known Astria.

It hurt so much, whenever it came up, I wondered why the pain never lessened. It could be because I knew she was still alive, somewhere, but I couldn't reach her. I miss her so much, that it gives me physical pain, a physical pain that I hate, but love at the same time.

Every day, I can see her terrified face, hear her screams, and every time, I'm frozen and unable to help Astria, the only sister I've ever had and the only person I love, besides Agnes.

"Samantha! Come downstairs! The morning meal is here!" Mother calls up to me, and I hurriedly finish dressing, scraping away tears I hadn't known had fallen.

I rush down the halls, and collapse into my chair. Father and Mother are both at the table already.

"Good morning, Samantha." Father tells me. Sam, I think to myself, but grit my teeth and say nothing. Instead, I focus on the morning meal, which is the same as it always is; cereal squares, non specific meat, eggs, banana, and the DNS. I wrinkle my nose at the blue liquid. For some reason, they've never worked on me, which is definitely a plus, but I don't like taking them anyways. I always throw them away when I get the chance.

The meal is silent, as always, and I inhale everything to get away. When my parents aren't looking, I pour the DNS down the waste disposal.

"Done." I stand and throw my dishes in after the DNS, then head to the hallway.

"Samantha." Mother's voice makes me stop, and I reluctantly turn to face them again.

"What." I say it as a statement, rather than a question, to needle her, but she ignores it.

"Don't forget, I'm taking you to your Fixing today." she tells me calmly, serenely, wearing a mask over empty space.

"I didn't. Computer told me already, so I won't forget that today's the day we can fix my problems." my voice oozes sarcasm, but my parents wouldn't understand the concept of sarcasm, much less detect it.

"I'm glad you're so eager." Mother smiles.

"Good luck." Father smiles, too, and I fled down the hallway to prepare for school.

"Hello, Samantha." Terrance's voice breaks my daydreams, and I frown.

"I told you, Terrance, call me Sam." I tell him, but he shakes his head.

"Your name is Samantha." he tells me, confused.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, but Sam is my nickname. I like it better. Agnes said that lots of people used to have them." I explain, for what feels like the hundredth time. "I told you this yesterday. Don't you remember?"

"No." Terrance bites his lip. "I do not understand." Sighing, I pull out my pencil.

"Never mind." I murmur, but Terrance's attention is already taken by Teacher's announcements. I mostly ignored them, as usual, with only bits and pieces getting through. Something about us moving up an age group, which I already knew anyway.

"Start your Language Arts exercises now." Teacher ordered, and everybody obediently pulled out their CRI's and connected them to the desk interface. Our progress statistics showed up on the main screen, as we all set to work.

As usual, I finished the exercises faster than anyone else, and began to go ahead, before my screen flashed red and refused to let me do anymore. Teacher eyed me, but left alone, apparently avoiding conflict with me.

I kind of zoned out, until the hour was finished, and everyone moved on. One girl didn't finish, and Teacher marked her down for tardiness. Up on the main screen, you could see that her progress bar was far behind everyone else's, and it had been for a long time. Teacher patted her hand and whispered something about her Fixing.

Math I finished early yet again, but this time, once I had finished, I pulled out my sketchbook to draw. My pencil had just touching the paper's surface, when I heard a loud voice.

“Samantha?” I look up to see Teacher looking down at me. “What are you doing?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Drawing.” I tell her. “What does it look like?” Teacher shakes her head.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.” she sighs. “You, once again, have completed your packets, ahead of schedule, and now you’re draring-”

“Drawing.” I interrupted.

“Whatever it is, it’s unnecessary and ridiculous.” Her eyes are lukewarm disapproving, but I still can’t see a full emotional reaction.

“That’s what you think. Besides, it just means I’m smarter than anyone else.”

“We do not use such archaic words as ‘smart’ or ‘slow’. We are all equals here, and we expect you to act like it.”

“What, you want me to act stupid?” I snorted, and returned to the sketchpad, letting the pencil take on a mind of its own. “In your dreams, Patty.”

“I’ve told you many times, Samantha, my name is not ‘Patty,’ or ‘Ellen,’ or any other label of the sort.”

“What am I supposed to call you then?”

“Teacher. You are to call me Teacher, just like all the other children.”

“That’s not a name.” I inform her saucily, keeping my eyes on my sketchpad. Teacher was silent for a while, and I surreptitiously flicked my eyes to the side of the desk to make sure she was still there.

“You and the rest of the class are scheduled to move up a group next week. When are you getting your Fixing?” Teacher finally speaks.

“I’m going in for my appointment today.” Terrance responds promptly and clearly, and continues to work diligently on his worksheets, his eyes focused on the screen. A regular pansy.

Out of spite, I kept my mouth shut, until Teacher cleared her throat.

“Samantha?” she asked.

“Today.” I reply shortly.

“And I trust you will consult them about your......shortcomings?”

“Maybe.” I shrugged, and finally looked up to meet her eyes with my own. “Maybe not. But it’s none of your business, is it?"

"Actually, Samantha, it is my business. I am your Teacher, and I expect you to treat me with respect."

"Oh, so it's respect now, is it? Respect, pleased, upset, blah, blah, blah. You pull them straight from the dictionary, and they don't mean anything. Tell me, Teacher, how can you feel?"

She blinks, confused.

"What emotions can you feel? No, not emotions, you don't really understand that, do you? What are the different feelings you can experience?"

"Oh, well." her face clears of confusion. "You can feel pleased, upset, respectful, worried, confused, alert, and fatigued. You should know this, Samantha. What a question."

"Is that it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are those the only ones?" I repeated, and she only hesitated a moment.

"Of course." she responds, and looks at me strangely. "Perhaps you are not feeling well, Samantha. Would you like to visit the medical facilities?"

"I'm fine." I snapped.

"Are you sure?" when I didn't answer, she pressed it. "You're acting out; I'm sure it'd be beneficial."

"Fine!" I shoved my chair back, making sure it scraped the floor noisily, but nobody in the classroom, besides Teacher, even noticed. They were too intent on their work.

As I fumbled with the straps on my bag, I stormed to the doorway.

"I didn't want to do History anyway!" I announced hotly. "It's all a bunch lies! You're all being taken for the poor saps you are! Do you even hear me?" Only Teacher was paying attention to me, her face blank as the paper in my sketchbook.

Suppressing a scream of frustration, I slammed the door behind me and practically ran to the medical facilities.

"Welcome." the man at the counter smiled at me, taking in my flushed face and heavy breathing. "I assume you would like to rest?"

Not trusting myself to speak, I merely nodded, and he smiled again, an empty grin, before opening a nearby door. Without even looking at him, I pushed past him and shut myself in the tiny white room.

Dropping my bag, I slumped in the small cot and dropped my head in my hands.

I couldn't afford to snap like that. They might find me out, find that I wasn't exactly following the rules. I shuddered to think what would happen if they found out. They might take me away, for testing or something.

Like they did to Astria.

Nobody would miss me. My parents would forget within the week, and I'd fade away like a shadow in the light.

I don't know how long I stayed there, but after what felt like minutes, I could hear feet going down the hallways, past the medical facilities, most likely to the food court.

There was no whispering, no hushed conversations or giggling secrets, just the sound of heels agains the perfectly polished tiles.

Was Agnes even remembering it the way it really was? Did people really talk all the time? What would they talk about? Would they talk about the weather and work, like everybody here, or would they go deeper?

Even though I'd never even done it, except with a total of two people, I wanted to. I wanted to so badly, that it almost scared me. How could someone want something they'd never experienced before?

Grabbing my bag, I looked in the mirror and arranged my face. I'd practiced it hundreds of times, making it full, yet empty, like everybody else's.

I thanked the man at the counter with the perfect amount of volume and meaning, and silently joined the others in the hall. The smaller children, just as solemn as the elders, quietly navigated their ways among the tall skyscrapers of people. When I was their age, I ran and jumped and played, laughing, and was shushed more times than I could remember. I never quite understood or grasped that I was different, until I was a little older. Then, I thought I was broken, and tried to hide my energy to fit in.

I still hid myself to the best of my abilities, but now it was for my own protection, instead of just fitting in.

Everyone continued to walk, only husks performing habits and programmed behavior. I was walking among empty masks.

"Class, it is time for Child Guides." Teacher clapped her hands, once, but it wasn't necessary. The only sounds were that of the chairs, their feet dragging as they're pushed back. Double file line, next to your partner, as always.

My feet tingled to be moving again, but I waited for Terrance, and slowly, normally joined the line. Sitting still is not my strong suit. I can barely get through the day.

We went to the Resources Center, as always, and found the older class waiting patiently. Simon flashed a grin and wiggled his eyebrows at me when the Teachers weren't looking, but I rolled my eyes and ignored him. My stomach, however, flipped over when I remembered that today was a Market day.

Everyone found their respective partners, and went off into some place in the room to go over progress charts and school work patterns. Simon sidled up to his Teacher, the other Teacher, and smiled at him with convincing innocence.

"Teacher, may Samantha and I leave for our weekly outside education?" Simon asked, and the other Teacher nodded, barely looking at us before returning his attention to the other student pairs.

I suppressed a groan. When the Market refused to continue delivering to the Education Center, Simon dragged me to the Market itself, once a week, where he'd get enough Pills to hold him over until the next visit. In order to get out of the Education Center, Simon made up a ridiculous lie, calling it "outside education," where he'd take me around and do some "hands on learning." What's even more ridiculous is that they believed him. I know for a fact that if anybody else had asked to do that, they would've been refused straightaway.

I have no idea how Simon gets everybody to adore him, but somehow, some way, he just has his way with everybody. The Council probably has him pegged to be some sort of official, if not in the Council itself. There has to be a reason why Simon's Fixing never actually changed him mentally.

"Come on, Tiny, let's go!" Simon practically bounced out of the Resources Center, taking the time to whisper the order in my ear with frenzied excitement.

"Don't call me that." I muttered to myself, and followed him with considerably more self restraint.

The halls were empty and echoey, our footsteps knocking on the tiles to ask if anybody else was walking with us.

Hello, is anybody there?

Nope, just you two and the walls.

We scanned our cards at the metal grey doors, which were, as always, locked.

Plip.

Cr-chk.

Fssh.

The little light flashed green, saying that our cards had been cleared to leave the building, and the door unlocked before sliding open. I was blinded by the harsh lights for a moment, but Simon moved through the door with surprising quickness.

The Business District was the next district over, so we didn't bother taking the SafeTram. As we walked, I examined the huge walls that surrounded the Business District. It was one of the few that had walls, and it was because the district was composed of many different buildings inside of it, instead of being one huge building, like the Education Building or the Resident Building.

The doors to the Business District were never locked though, or not that I could remember. Simon and I passed the ominous walls of concrete with absolutely nobody questioning us, and we were finally among the buildings.

There were four streets that led to the other side of the wall, and identical grey buildings lined the four streets, which I assumed looked like a giant fork from overhead. It was completely silent, except for the occasional computer click or beep, maybe a word or two to break the silence.

Simon was already far ahead of me, making his speedy way down the fourth street. To spite him, I lingered and took my own sweet time, but he didn't even notice. Sighing, I picked up the pace and caught up with him.