The lift doors opened and Zeke walked out first. The doors closed behind her and the noise of the descending cabin faded away. Unlike the rest of the building, the top floor was different. The Arctic-white walls and floor, with bright fluorescent strip-lighting above replaced the plush patterned carpets or wood panelling. It was garishly stark in comparison. They walked down the long corridor passing a number of key coded entry doors on either side. The sound of their footsteps broke the oppressive silence. At the end of the corridor was another door. Above it hung a sign-- Department of Screening and Genetics. The nearer they got to the door, the harder and faster Hannah's heart seemed to beat.
"Are you coming in with me?" Hannah asked in a little voice that echoed around them.
"No, I have to return to my Office," Zeke replied.
"But... I don't want to go in by myself."
"Sorry Hannah, I don't have the time to babysit you again!" he snapped back.
"Oh!" said Hannah, shocked by his response. Why was he being like this? She searched his face for meaning, but it gave little away. His eyes met hers for the briefest moment and she followed their path as he looked up and to the left. Hannah followed their direction and spotted a camera mounted on the wall, above them. Now she understood the reason for his short, formal tone.
"Good bye, Hannah."
"Thank you, Mr Matheson," she replied.
Zeke turned and walked back towards the lift. Hannah fought the urge to run after him, her pulse fast, sweat beading on her forehead and her clenched hands clammy. A bell sounded and the doors parted, Zeke entered and turned back to face her. He nodded discreetly and mouthed "you'll be fine." She shrugged, took a deep breath, turned and opened the door.
Hannah walked into a reception area. On the left side were two rows of functional grey plastic seating, half occupied by an assortment of men and women of different ages and all of them were staring at her. She dropped her eyes, hoping they would return to whatever conversations her entry had interrupted.
"Yes?" said a voice behind her.
Hannah turned. "Err, hello, I'm Hannah. I was told to come here for an SPR."
"You're late! Mr Clairbourne is a busy man; he doesn't appreciate lateness," said a severe looking thirty-something brunette. The woman sat behind the reception desk. She wore a formal navy blue jacket, with a starched white shirt beneath. On her lapel was a name badge; Gloria Weston, Receptionist. A telephone headset sat nesting on a mass of tight brown curls, most of the apparatus hidden making the small black mouthpiece looking like it was a growth coming out of the side of her head. The woman tapped her long claw-like fingers with pointy manicured nails repeatedly on the desk.
"Sorry. I only found out about it half an hour ago," she explained. The woman's stern facial expression did not change.
"Here is a file for you to complete. All standard information- age, address, doctors' information and a consent form for you to sign." She looked Hannah up and down. "Would you like someone to come and read and write for you?" she asked, a flicker of amusement flashed across her eyes. Somebody sniggered behind Hannah.
"That's fine, I can read and write very well actually," Hannah said, trying to sound defiant, but not succeeding very well.
The receptionist pushed the paperwork attached to a red clip board toward Hannah across the desk. "Don't forget to sign the bottom of the page, or just make a cross if that's easier for you?"
More than one person now sniggered behind her. Hannah glared at the receptionist, but a poster on the wall behind the rude woman caught her eye.
Help us to help you!
We know that for some people, an SPR review can be a stressful, but necessary experience. Your review today helps our glorious society manage our limited resources, maintain peace and ensure that only the most deserving of our society prospers. Your cooperation will ensure a harmonious experience for all. Let us know if there is anything we could have done today to make your time with us more pleasurable. Please ask your receptionist for a comment card.
Hannah smirked. "Could I have a comment card, please?"
The receptionist reached over to a box next to her screen and picked up a small card and held it out to Hannah. Hannah reached for it, but the woman snatched it back.
"Why?" the receptionist said sharply, her grip firm on the card.
Hannah pointed at the sign behind. "Oh, I just have a few ideas how today could have been made more pleasurable for me. Don't worry, I am having a meeting with General Briggs later; I'll be sure to ask him if I need help writing down my comments."
The woman visibly paled before her, her eyes wide. Hannah enjoyed seeing a trace of terror flick across them. She gave the woman a large smile, picked up the clip board and snatched the card out of the polished, jewelled claw. She turned, lifted her head, pulled back her shoulders and turned around. Avoiding eye contact with her audience, she spied a seat in the corner of the room and sat down. The room seemed to release it collective breath, the person who had sniggered was now silent and slowly idle conversation began again.
Hannah placed the comment card on the seat next to her and took a pen from the clip board. She tried to remove the cap, but her trembling hands made it difficult. Calm down Hannah she spoke to herself. Within seconds Hannah was regretting her outburst. She'd never liked confrontation and hated the thought of hurting another person but all her buttons had been pushed. She looked back to the receptionist who sat biting her polished, pointy nails and staring at the poster. I am as good if not better than you spoke a voice inside Hannah's head. She hated that inner voice.
Hannah looked at the paperwork and sighed. She had a lot to read. Nerves getting the better of her, she struggled to get purchase on the pen lid, so put the end of the pen in her mouth and pulled. It came away with a satisfying snapping sound. Hannah started to write.
Name: Hannah Green
Age: 18 years
Next was her address, but it had been pre-printed on the form; Diana and John's address. A rush of annoyance had her shuffling in her seat. Why was her new address there and yet she still had to complete her name? The next few questions were simple: eye colour, known illnesses ... She read and answered them quickly, many of the questions requiring only a tick in the NO boxes. At the bottom of the page was a consent form for her to sign. A note at the bottom of the page instructed her to read a set of rules and disclaimers attached. She shuffled through and found it. Hannah was exceptional at reading and comprehension, though she'd managed to keep it hidden at school. However the words written on the form seemed to be designed to confuse. Having an SPR over eighty meant she was entitled to read this information. The Flawed were given no special consideration. Their opinion wasn't important and neither was their consent. Hannah laughed softly. Why did they go to the bother of this charade? Like the Flawed, the top twenty had no choice in the matter either. The testing was mandatory, non-attendance punishable by law. How often did people actually refuse to sign she wondered? She read on...
You, the candidate are to undergo a Standard Perfection Rating (SPR) review. SPR reviews are compulsory. This consent form includes information about this review. The purpose of this review is to assess your current Perfection score. You, the candidate, are being asked to participate in this review because you are over the age of eighteen and/ or it has been no more than 365 days since your last review.
Other persons and organizations, including co-investigators, state regulatory agencies, and the SPR Board overseeing this review may receive your information during the course of this review. Your information may be shared with persons and organizations outside of The Department of Screening and Genetics if considered necessary. Your identity, Personal Identity Number (PIN), address, telephone number, or any other direct personal identifier will be shared.
The results of this review will be kept in your Personal Data Log (PDL) for the term of your life and for twenty years thereafter. At such time, your review information will be destroyed or information identifying you will be removed if your Personal Data Log (PDL) is to be kept permanently.
I, hereby consent to allow The Department of Screening and Genetics to take specimens of my blood, hair, urine for analysis. I also consent to allow my Biometric Identifiers to be measured, to include and not limited to fingerprint, palm print, full-body geometric mapping, face/ iris recognition and full screen DNA profiling. Furthermore I also consent to Behaviourmetric Identifiers being measured, including Amygdala and Prefrontal Cortex pre-testing.
I also consent to allow The Department of Screening and Genetics to survey my reproductive organs and take necessary samples for further analysis.
I understand that the SPR decision of The Department of Screening and Genetics is final and may not be contested. I understand that a negative outcome may result in my demotion to the status of Flawed.
I, the candidate, hereby agree to participate in all trials, tests and evaluations as detailed above. I understand that all testing comes with inherent risk and that The Department of Screening and Genetics will not be held accountable for any adverse physiological or psychological issues associated with the SRP screening process.
Signed
Date:
Hannah re-read the last few paragraphs and sat stunned. She knew that the Adult SPR review was thorough, but she had no idea that they would by collecting such a vast amount of data from her. Terrified, her handles began to tremble again. She didn't want to be screened, having somebody measuring and sizing her up like a bug under a microscope. Hannah looked over to the door and wondered whether to make a run for it. How had her parents endured this testing year after year, just to be told that they were becoming more Flawed as they advanced in years? Her poor parents! How could she even think of running away again when they were in trouble? Any wrong move she made would be a certain death sentence for them. A sob escaped her lips and she clenched the pen hard trying to contain herself. The blank space awaiting her signature seemed to be screaming at her sign it, sign it. Hannah looked at the pen and then back to the paper. All she had to do was sign and then it would be done and her parents would be safe, but she just couldn't put the pen to paper.
The receptionist called out for people to go in for their reviews. She tried to refocus on the papers. Sign it, Hannah. Just sign it, she willed herself. No good will come of not signing it. The receptionist called out again. Why won't you sign it Hannah? Are you scared your brief time spent Perfect will come to an end? Hannah tormented herself. If I sign, I willingly give them everything of me and I just don't want to do that.
"Miss Page, Professor Clairbourne will see you now. Miss Page, Miss Hannah Page!" the receptionist all but shouted.
Hannah looked up feeling dazed. "Are you talking to me?"
"Yes! Room Two. First door on the right. Do you even understand that?" the receptionist said through a sneer, her superior tone had returned.
Hannah jumped out of her seat and marched over to the desk.
"My name is Hannah Green. It has been since the day after I was born. I heard you, I understood you. I will not answer to that name. I am normally a calm, peaceful person, but if you are rude to me one more time, so help me, I will grab hold of your head set and shove it somewhere you won't be able to hear it. Do I make myself clear?" She enunciated the last sentence slowly.
The receptionist swallowed, withered in her chair, her talon of a finger hovered over a red button.
"Oh, Gloria! Don't go pressing that alarm button right there. General Briggs would be mortified to hear of mistreatment I have suffered already. You really don't want to make this any worse, do you?
The receptionist shook her head from side to side and moved her finger away.
Hannah gave her a sweet, sickly smile and then walked off towards the door which leading to another corridor where she would find Professor Clairbourne's office.
"Good Luck Hannah!" a voice called behind her.
Hannah's head shot round hoping to see Scott. A small warm feeling rushed over her. She wasn't really alone after all. She searched for his face but couldn't see him, the waiting area now full.
"We missed you this morning Hannah." A familiar person lowered a magazine and waved.
Hannah shivered.
"Edward Page. Professor Lyons will see you now in Room Three" called the receptionist.
Edward stood up and walked slowly passed Hannah.
"Wouldn't it be funny, Hannah, if they found out that you were really Flawed after all? That could be quite costly to both you and your parents. Though, I'm sure your 'friends' would come rushing to your rescue again. Interesting company you have been keeping lately Hannah." Edward winked at Hannah and walked off.