Chapter 8 - Aidan: June 18, 3032

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Ten of us sit around a large metal table. Top ten in the class, top ten interns. Surrounding us are our trainers--some are here with the sole job of preparing us for government life, others are taking time out of their schedules to help instruct the new interns.

We start by going around the table, stating our names and age. I begin.

"Aidan Cicuta. Sixteen years."

I hear an audible gasp after I speak. My parents are known here. Very well known.

The rest of the names I recognize, Tara Ford, William Britts, Don Herald. One name, however, surprises me.

"Ellie DeVeux. Seventeen years."

I've seen her in class, perhaps a few times. She never seemed too bright, I don't even think her name was on the top ten list. Why is she here?

Then it dawns on me. She took Reb's spot.

After introductions, a tall man with icy white hair and a navy suit walks to the center of the room. Beneath the table, my leg starts to shake. All of us sense the power he holds. If he chose, he could create our dreams or ruin our lives.

"Imperium," he begins, speaking as though he's addressing a crowd of thousands, not a room of about twenty, "rose out of ashes. We survived when the world didn't. We found power in our suffering, like a phoenix. Now we have grown for more than a century, a well oiled machine that continues to edit itself. We have cultivated the best minds, the best systems, the best civilization. And now you have been selected to continue this legacy."

He pauses, as if we should all applaud this point. Instead, silence.

I begin to zone out, fidgeting with the little points on my Imperium badge. It's a step up from my graduation badge, with little codes and letters engraved to give me access to exclusive and high security areas. I look around and see other interns doing the same. In the corner, a clock ticks away. I hear bits of the speech - he speaks of the power that we hold, they honor that we're bringing our families, the new life we will breathe into Imperium.

"So remember this moment. This is the most important moment of your life, where you become an essential piece of the machine of Imperium. Ask yourself, will you be a faulty piece of machinery, or will you be the mechanic who builds it into something even better? Thank you."

We all softly clap, and as he exits the room, we rise at the command of our instructors.

We are ushered through the barren halls, just concrete slabs and white lights. Each step echoes, no matter how soft. I walk behind the head instructor, a tall woman with dark hair pulled into a sleek ponytail. I recognize her from the Academy, she was three years above me. What a strange sight, students in their futures. Behind me, I hear the nervous breaths of my peers. We are not told where we're going, simply to follow.

The room that we enter is high security, with hand print devices, cameras, scans for our badges, and technology I've never seen before. Is this a standard process for the rooms in this building? We sit down in metal chairs around a velvet table, screens surrounding us, some showing images and some blank. We all sense that this is not a normal room.

The silence is thick, as we all look anywhere but each other. The instructors say nothing, until one intern, Kirsten, asks in a shaky voice,

"Is there a reason we've been brought here?"

It hangs in the air, unanswered.

Eventually, two men and a woman walk through the doors, dressed in military official uniforms. We all hold our breath as they walk by, their gaze piercing and their march startling.

"Welcome interns," the woman's voice slices through the silence. "I am Officer Cyrus, and these men are Officers Barca and Saladin respectively. We are here to instruct your first policies class. You may be surprised that you're not in a room with professors, intellectuals, politicians. But I will be the first to inform you, we are the first people to know the policies, as our job is to enforce them. And no one must defy these rules if we want a functioning society.

"We will begin with the No Exceptions Policy. This entails us to arrest and punish any and all law breakers. If we let one person slide, citizens will get ideas, citizens will get rebellious. We cannot have that."

She emphasizes "cannot", leaving the hard "c" echoing through the room.

"Beyond this, we have the Sedition Policy. This states that speaking out against Imperium in any way that spreads harmful ideas of our government, laws, or systems is punishable by imprisonment, or possibly worse depending on the severity of the action. These are basic overviews, but they are essential in moving forward with this position. Is this understood?" the woman explains sharply.

We nod shakily.

"Do you have any questions?"

We shake our heads in the same fashion.

"Good. I'd expect nothing less. Let's go over some reports and documents from recent instances."

The man to her left pulls stacks of papers out of a locked metal box and places them on the table. The interns instinctively grab the papers to pass them around.

"No," the man snaps. They coil their arms back in fear. "Do not touch confidential information without permission. Security is of utmost importance in this building. Is this understood?"

"Yes sir," we murmur instinctively.

He nods and begins to explain that the purpose of these reports is to demonstrate the problems that we will have to face and solve daily, working in policies. Then, with a quick hand movement, the instructor that I recognized from the Academy walks forward and begins to distribute stacks of paper for each of us to examine. On the screen is a slideshow of the jobs of the guardsmen, the responsibilities and knowledge they have in regards to these policies. I look down at my stack and see a title about the effects of illegal fishing in the rivers on the outskirts of Imperium. There is a picture of an older man looking in fear, holding his rod and line, as guardsmen march towards him. Based on the words of the woman officer, I don't know if I want to know what became of him.

The instructions last for the better part of three hours, going over different policies the whole time. We never switch around our documents, so I am stuck looking at a raggedy man fearing for his life.

Towards the end of the lesson, the officers receive a message from a bell boy, a middle class student hoping to work his way up by running around delivering information. I feel a twinge of pity; he is still unaware that his efforts will get him nowhere. There is no advancing in this system. It's not how it works.

While they are distracted, I notice a second document stuck to my first. It's handwritten, obviously not meant for me. We must carry through with the fourth phase' it begins. Scanning down the page, the words 'extermination' and 'capture' jump out at me. I should leave it alone, or report it, and yet I can't help but begin to investigate. It looks as though it's just been drafted. I see the instructors start to pack themselves up, and in a mad panic, I stuff the document in the metal case provided to all interns.

What are you doing? This is against all that I stand for, all that I've learned, all that Imperium stands for. And yet here I am. With a stolen document in my metal case.

At home, my parents ask the basic questions, and then go back to the news. Today is a story about landmines found in the fields around Imperium, encouraging citizens to stay within the city boundaries. "This is for your own good," the voice booms. "Imperium protects you, cares for you, but only if you let it." My parents nod along, as if listening to a song.

I settle into my room, eyeing the metal case once again. After stealing the document, it's felt as though everyone's watching me, everyone's suspicious. By the time I finish my assignments, the sun has set, so my holographic lights have turned on. They shine on the metal case, as if casting a spotlight. Eventually, curiosity takes over my self control, and I quietly unlock the case with my badge.

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