My fingers fly over the keys on my hologram during I.L.I Teaching, my mind far from what I’m typing. I don’t need to focus on the thoughtless exercise that we are forced to do every day anyway. I need to think.
The Teaching Bell buzzes, signaling the end of class. I sigh inwardly in relief. I tap off the hologram, take out my ear chips, and file out of the room with the rest of the crowd. Completely silent as always. Completely orderly as always. Completely emotionless as always.
Completely perfect.
I swallow my disgust, keeping my face emotionless. I don’t understand why, after everything that has happened over the years, everyone continues to obey the Officials, the Heads.
The Officials have the rules so perfectly arranged, the consequences so flawlessly terrifying, that no one would even think of doing anything different. Being taken away into nothingness, never to be seen again, only to fade away in people’s faint memory. That’s what The Unknown.
We stay safely away from the line of danger. We stay silent when we’re supposed to. Talk about what we’re told to. Eat what we’re given. Learn what we’re taught. Inhumanely perfect.
On the outside.
I’ve only tried to convince someone to actually think for a second once. It was one of my two roommates, Lillie, when I was only a ten year. The day before a girl I didn’t know had broken out screaming and crying, accusing the Officials of the truth. They tried to subdue her, but she kept fighting. One of the Officials ended up punching the girl, causing blood to pour from her nose. She was taken quickly away, disappearing into the Unknown.
That night while we were lying in our bunks, the Officials had administered to each of us a bright red shot. I didn’t feel any different afterwards, but nobody mentioned anything about them again.
I had quietly asked Lillie later if she thought the girl who had been punched was okay.
Lillie had no memory of the girl’s fight. She entirely denied its existence, while I can still see each detail clearly in my mind five years later. I still don’t understand why.
My attention is ripped back to reality as we enter the Eating Hall. I press my fingertip to the scanner and seconds later the Official brings back my Mid-day Meal food. Walking carefully back to my seat, I grip the tray in my pale hands. The stale bread with slightly cold sauce, small glass of water, and Vita sliding precariously over the smooth, gray plastic.
I sit down on my stool and begin eating, careful to be as ladylike as Etiquette Teaching informs us to be. No elbows on the table, chew with your mouth closed, legs or ankles crossed, back straight, shoulders back. My behavior is identical to everyone else here.
Mid-day Meal passes by uneventful, just like every other Mid-day Meal.
We file out of the room, in the standard uniform faultlessness to Music Teaching. We spend the next half hour singing plain songs all to glorify the Heads in charge of the entire Complex, Ellen and Derek Windsor. We then have to spend the next half-hour playing simple melodies on our holographic pianos. The melodies are for more songs celebrating the ‘wonderfulness’ and ‘generosity’ of the Heads.
Music Teaching ends after a painful, repetitive hour as the Teaching Bell sounds through the air.
A sliver of dread settles inside my stomach in anticipation for the next Teaching. Inspection.
It’s not really a Teaching, considering we don’t learn anything. We stand in perfect, silent, unmoving rows while Officials stalk up down, searching for anything suspicious, anything out of place. Meanwhile, different Officials search our rooms to make sure that nothing is hidden.
They don’t normally find anything. I think it’s more of a warning and precaution. I don’t think they actually expect to find anything.
After it’s been determined that we’ve all been the perfect little children we are expected to be, an Official leads us in The Pledge and The Anthem.
I’ve had the words memorizes for years, ever since I first learned to talk.
First, our voices blend together in a monotone for The Pledge.
I pledge my allegiance to Ellen and Derek Windsor. I owe them my perfect obedience and respect. They saved my life, therefore I owe them mine. Without them, I know I would be in the hands of the horrors of the Disease and the outside world. May the greatness of the Windsors be praised forevermore.
Shortly after, we sing the simple and bland tune of The Anthem. We are careful to keep our voices at the accurate level. We can’t be too loud and draw attention to ourselves, but if we sing to softly, we won’t be ‘showing enough respect’.
Oh great and wondrous Windsors,
Our hopes and faith lie in thee.
You saved us from the outside world,
And from the horrid Disease.
When the world started to fall,
When the earth was in despair,
The loving Windsors saved our lives,
The Windsors they truly care.
Oh, great and wondrous Windsors,
Our hopes and faith lie in thee.
You saved us from the outside world,
And from the horrid Disease.
We are dismissed by the leading Official and we file back out of the room, flooding the halls. There are about one hundred fifty girls who are fifteen years walking down this hallway, but you can’t separate out a single one.
I arrive in Circle Room 5, where my next Teaching, Spelling, is held. The steel gray counters inside spiral from the center of the room outward. Hard, metal stools are placed every few feet, a Complex number imprinted across each one.
I walk along the spiral until I reach the stool stamped with my own Complex number, 274. I slide on to the stool, tap on my hologram, put in my ear chips, and begin my Spelling Teaching.
Each Teaching is personalized to each girl here. There are no comparing results between us. I have no idea whether I’m better than most girls or worse. The purpose is to make everyone seem equal.
You can’t have the perfect identicalness that exists in this Complex is one person believes she is better than another.
An automated voice speaks over my ear chip, telling me which words to spell. My fingers fly over a light keyboard projected on to the counter in front of me. The letters I type appear on the hologram floating about the counter.
I fall into the pattern of the Teaching. Listen. Type. Correct my word if it’s wrong. Repeat. It’s the same type of lesson I had yesterday and it’ll be the same type of lesson I have tomorrow.
The voice in my ear chip suddenly cuts out, mid-word. This kind-of thing has never happened before and I don’t know how to respond. The technology never malfunctions.
Maybe it’s some type of test by the Officials. I keep my face from showing any type of response.
My hologram wavers in front of me. The blank screen waiting for a spelling word disappears.
A typed message materializes in its place on the holographic blue screen.
I lean slightly forward, struggling to seem as unsuspicious as possible.
I want to be remembered. I plan on doing something tomorrow and I want to make sure that I stay alive in at least someone’s memory.
The Officials force upon us the monotony of repetition. They wouldn’t dare pull something like this and cause a disturbance. Who is it then?
Another sentence appears.
You can respond to me simply by typing on your light keyboard.
Are the Officials watching me?? Is it worth the risk of the Unknown when I have no idea who’s messaging me and how?
When I don’t respond, another message appears below the previous ones.
I’m not an Official and I won’t get you in trouble. This messaging system is completely untraceable and unless you alert an Official yourself, nobody will ever find out about this. This secret will be safe with me. I’ll be in the Unknown by tomorrow anyway.
I decide to risk a response. There’s a chance that I’ll be taken away because of it. But there’s also a chance that I’ll break some of the dullness of the Complex.
I type slowly, hesitantly, but then faster as my curiosity grows.
Who are you? What’s your Complex number? Where are you? Why are you contacting me? Why will you be in the Unknown tomorrow?
I carefully scan the reactions of the girls in front of me after I finish typing, looking to see any sort of reaction to show that they are the person contacting me.
I catch nothing.
A response appears quickly.
My name’s Marie. Complex number 242. I’m planning to do something big tomorrow.
She didn’t fully answer half of my questions. I quickly type up a response.
But why are you contacting me? Is anyone else being contacted besides me? What do you mean by ‘something big’?
Once again I watch the faces of the people in front of me. I don’t even see a flicker of emotion. The girl is either very good at hiding her emotions or she’s out of my line of vision.
I’m contacting you and only you. I’ve noticed that you aren’t exactly loyal. Don’t worry, it’s not obvious and I doubt you will be sent to the Unknown. I just take the time to notice small things. Do you?
I frown slightly at her question. Do I take the time to notice the ‘small things’? Probably not. I’m too lost in my own thoughts to pay any attention to the people and things around me. If I did, would I catch on to those sorts of things too? Would I have figured out by now another person who isn’t, in Marie’s words, ‘exactly loyal’?
I try to figure out where Marie would be sitting in relation to me if her Complex number is 242. She’s certainly somewhere in front of me, the smaller numbers start in the middle of the spiral, but other than that I have no idea. Here, you really only learn the names of your roommates.
I persist in my questions.
How are you contacting me through the hologram? What are you going to do tomorrow?
She quickly responds.
I’ve figured out a way to hack it. I’ve been practicing. I wish I had more time so that I could teach you, but I’ve made up my mind to act tomorrow.
She keeps avoiding my final question. Why won’t she simply answer it like she has all my other questions?
I persevere, determined to get the answer to my question.
What are you doing tomorrow that will get you sent to the Unknown?
We can’t communicate any longer. I don’t know how much longer I can run interference with the holograms before the Officials catch on to the problem. I don’t want to risk it.
I repeat. What are you doing tomorrow that will get you sent to the Unknown?
You’ll just have to wait until tomorrow.