Computer Geek

Chapter 4: Research

I sit in the 'outdoor' classroom, hoping for the lunch to come soon. Monday isn't too bad, because we don't get homework, but I'm praying for a different reason. I need to read up on who Linda is, and Institute History, the class after this one, is the perfect place to find out who she is. There has to be something about her in one of those huge textbooks. Don't get me wrong, survival training is the most hands on class, which really helps me keep interested, and I feel the need to pay even more attention now that I know I may be thrown to my death against who-knows-what, but I need to know what this all means for my future.

I couldn't do it yesterday because I knew there was always someone watching. Various Mentors would just meander around the rooms I would hang out in, threatening to pull closer to me as I made attempts to speak with Lance. If they knew I knew about the trials, I'd be dead. So I kept quiet.

Time ticks slowly on until we are dismissed by a soft 'ping' that rings through the school after every class. I rush through lunch, not stopping to talk or think, just eat, drink, then run. I arrive a bit early to class by following Mr. Patel from a bit of a distance. I walk into the room after a couple minutes of trying to look like I didn't come early on purpose and sit in one of the shiny stools. The one I sit on is a bit wobbly, so I spend time wiggling back and forth with my legs on the feet of the tall chair. I finally stand up and grab a book, calmly flipping through it.

"Is there anything I can help you look for, Ianthe? I would suppose it is something you can't find with your head, am I correct?" The teacher with the slightly balding brown hair remarks. I ignore the sarcasm by simply not responding. I get a few pages into reading before I totally miss the technological ping that shutters through the building, and students begin to flood into the room. Mr. Patel takes the book away from me and put it on top of the shelf, then begins teaching. Well that didn't work.

I guess tonight will just have to be one of those nights.

Outside this place must be so much better. The distinct smell of chemical clean air will be replaced with the scent of soft yellow daisies. Instead of tip-toeing quietly down the hall hoping no one will send me back to my room at night, I'll be running under the twinkling stars over the rolling hills. I want to go home, but I don't know where home is. This has been my only home for as long as I remember. Here at the Institute, freedom is assumed, not promised. We are told that we have "Free Time," but that's just a better name for the Mentors breathing down our necks while we munch on healthy granola bars that sit in the cafeteria for us to grab. I sit on my bed, close my eyes and search for a better place. A place where grass is not only greener, but there actually is grass that you can roll around in and smell and relax.

This place may have a perfect balance of healthy diet and exercise matched with a top notch education, training to be the best we can be, but there is undoubtably something off about it. I am barely able to find things online other than spotless descriptions stating that "The Institute is a wonderful place where 'Prodigies' can thrive in a comfortable habitat." They call us prodigies? I'd say freaks. Don't forget the occasional inconsistent conspiracy pages that throw around ideas of the kids who graduate from here being executed and them raising us for world domination. From the eerie feeling this place gives me at night, I wouldn't say it's too far off from some sort of evil labyrinth. But I guess that's a going a bit far.

I wait until everyone is asleep to slip out of the shared dorm, but not before shooting Lance a glance to make sure he's asleep. Thankfully, he is. He sleeps like a kitten, curled under the heavy covers and lightly snoring. I'd stay and watch, but there's work to do.

I stride quietly down the hallway, worried I'll be seen. I step up the stairs, by feet making a 'pat pat pat' sound that echoes through the dark white corridors. At the top of the staircase, I look to my right with hope of remembering where the Institute History classroom is. This place is a maze during the day, so you can say it's near impossible to navigate during the night-time.