In the Name of Order

Chapter 2: The Gifted Program

Housemother B lightly smacks a pamphlet on Mathea's head before handing the pamphlet to her. Mathea takes one look at it before smiling guiltily and shoving the pamphlet into her pocket.

"Please?" My sister turns to face me and points to her suitcase.

She doesn't even give me a chance to answer her before running off in the opposite direction. I guess I'll be taking her luggage up to her room for her.

"You, my dear, have some time to yourself before your evaluation." Housemother B squeezes my arm before handing me the pamphlet. She begins to walk away, but I hear her chuckle when I groan.

My evaluation is scheduled for later today.
It's the one thing I am dreading, because it takes up too much of my time. It isn't that I have better things to do, but I don't like wasting my 'nothing' time on unnecessary things. Mathea once said I should be grateful for the time the evaluation takes, because it's better than the program officials forcing us to go to any type of classes on the first day back.

The classes offered in the Gifted Program are divided into two categories; The Gift classes and Studies. We advance our gifts during the Gift classes and gain knowledge 'important to ensure we earn a good income when our gifts are no longer of use' during Studies such as taxes and Information Technology. We also learn about the history of Geode during Studies. All pupils in the Gifted Program must take part in both categories.

I then look at all the luggage I'm expected to carry and consider leaving Mathea's luggage here for her to handle once her evaluation is over. However, I'm not in the mood to put up with the lecture I know my younger sister will give me. I guess there's a plus side to this; that girl now owes me.

~•~

The walls of the evaluation room are a light shade of blue. In fact, most rooms in the Gifted Sites are. I once asked a nurse why that was, and he claimed that 'blue is a soothing colour that helps to relax one's mind'. He then continued talking about other soothing colours and gave me various reasons why a light shade of blue, rather than the other soothing colours, was chosen by management to be the colour of most rooms. He seemed excited when talking about colours.

He then ended our conversation by telling me that a light shade of blue is rumoured to be President Foster IV's favourite colour, and that rumour may be the reason management wants most rooms to be a light shade of blue. The colour, as the nurse said, 'Honours the President who ensures our economy is prosperous and constantly advancing'. I made a note never to start a conversation with that nurse again.

Twice a month, all Gifted residents of all Gifted Sites are required to go to these blue rooms to be evaluated. There are only six Gifted Sites in Geode that house approximately seventy-five children each.

I suppose we're evaluated often because we, the Gifted, are rare. One nurse informed me that our health is essential to the development of society, therefore we are tested for any health risks and any new abilities. There is nothing extraordinary about us. At least, I don't believe so. We simply perform better than the average person.

Someone once told me the main difference between the Gifted and the ordinary is not what we are now, but what we can become. Currently, my gift is my abnormal high tolerance for pain, but the program scientists believe that if trained effectively, I may soon feel no physical pain at all.

The scientific name for those with my gift is Callumsiandrum, but everyone calls us Iron or the Iron Rods. We also heal faster than the average person, but the difference isn't large enough to be considered a gift. The jobs assigned to us are often personal trainers or bodyguards. I hate being a bodyguard. I hate it even more when I have to help people accused of doing the cruellest things, but those are the kind of jobs that pay the most.

"Willow. Willow, you'll need to concentrate. Could you tell me how that feels?" the doctor asks me.

I look at my bleeding arm. She's re-opened the cut from my last evaluation with a tool I can't seem to identify.

"A scratch," I reply.

"My dear, say that louder for me, won't you?"

"It feels like a scratch," I raise my voice, hoping this will finish soon. Kane and Mathea are waiting for me at the river. Their evaluation was two hours before mine.

"Thank you, Ms Bare." The doctor then turns to speak into a small microphone on her desk, "Subject 024 showing no improvement."

"Willow, did you take your medication during the holiday?"

"Every one of them."

"And you made sure to do all the exercises? I gave you the pamphlet myself, Ms. Bare."

"I did everything asked of me."

"I'm risking my job telling you this," the doctor continues regardless of the risk, "but there have been concerns about you, Ms Bare. You've shown no improvements for the last five months. There are some people, in management that is, that are rethinking your stay here. It seems to only be a thought, but thoughts spark actions. You must meet the standards."

"I do everything asked of me."

"You must want it! There are many families wanting this for their children, and there are many children who want this for themselves. Willow, you are Gifted. Be grateful," the concern I heard in the doctor's voice disappears, and her voice is now laced with anger.

"I may have missed a few days when taking my medication," I say, hoping it will bring an end to the conversation.

"You must have. You'll do better now, won't you?"

"I will."

"I'll just clean this up for you," the doctor motions to my bleeding arm, "and you may be on your way."

My thoughts may be rude, but I can't wait to get away from her. Anyway, I need to be with Mathea and Kane right now; they often keep me calm. With everything going on inside my head, I've been needing to feel that way lately.