A Song of Silence

Chapter 1

Astrid

A smile is plastered on my face, eternally there, even when I want to cry. This is the result of their control. But is it so bad to be happy all the time? I can surely think of worse. For one thing, it would be worse without them. We've all seen in the documentaries and read in the textbooks how quickly our world descended into chaos and havoc without the Imperium. They are the ones who restored order to our broken society. They are the ones who helped us when we were beyond anyone else's repair. This is why I want to please them. Have to please them.

This is why I have to be the best, I remind myself. Maybe I can become one of them. Maybe they'll see what a huge asset I would be to them. Maybe, and my heart lifts with the thought, maybe they'll even see what an exemplary student I am and take me away from this school early to train with them!

"Astrid!" I hear someone call, shaking me out of my daydreams and fantasies of a different life.

I look up, still smiling in the direction of the speaker, even though I am nervous and jittery. I nod. Don't speak unless you're spoken to. This is one of the things I've learned. How to be polite, how to respect your superiors.

My teacher, Ms. Hendrix, meets my eyes and says tersely, "Please pay attention."

It's as if my whole body has gone rigid. I want to speak, I want to let my mind wander, but I can't, I just can't. There's something gluing the tip of my tongue to the roof of my mouth, and when I try to glance sideways, I can't find the willpower to do it. So I relax, and do as she tells me. The urge to go against her is smothered until it dies, like extinguishing a glowing candle, which burns on the wick as an ember orange before it is reduced to ashes.

A few moments later, I can feel the control fading once again, but I still don't want to be reprimanded again. This was to teach me a lesson. I can't lose my chance. I have to follow their rules, play their game if I plan to win. I must be a square. Perfect, like how they want us to be. This is why they manipulate us in the first place. So we can be better. So we can be perfect. This is why I obey them.

***

The Pouring. This is the most stressful part of the day. It is a daily occurrence to test us and our loyalty. If I spill, they'll think that I'm not under their guidance. It would kill me if that's what my result said. You just have to wait for the teacher to slip into your body, and let their mind control numb you until the hour is over.

Here is how it works: There are five jugs, four of which are empty, and the last, which is filled to the brim. The test administrator will influence each student at the same time, making us pour the water from the filled jug to the rest, distributing it exactly equally between them. We continue this process for an hour. If they are not exactly filled to the same level on each, or if you spill the water – even more unsatisfactory, you are deemed to be unworthy of the gift of the Imperium, and they will take you to a camp where they teach you how to be obedient.

I let my mind go blank as the gong rings, signaling the start of the hour.

Slowly and unthinking, I close my fingers around the handle of the glass jug, lifting it up slightly above the rough wooden desk. Tilting it to the right over the first jug, the water splashes against the crystal-clear glass with a satisfying plink.

My hand jerks upward, and the liquid in the pitcher that I am holding sloshes against the walls. Without my consent, I step right to the next second jug and start pouring into the next. Sweat drips from my forehead and into my eyes but I cannot move except to continue the Pouring.

The official's, our test administrator, control slips for just a moment, and my eyes dart to the left, where the girl, who has long brown hair that falls in such an organized manner, beside me spills a droplet of water onto the table, her brow furrowed in focus and frustration. I see the flash of fear she tries to withhold as her gaze meets mine.

She is not smiling, I realize, still smiling widely at her. Her face quickly adjusts to a broad grin. She is not one of us. We are meant to smile. Always smile. Always be happy. It is a blessing to always be able to smile.

If I could, my mouth would be dropping to a frown at this moment, my eyes would narrow in suspicion of this girl. But with their control, I can't. Head high, be happy, smile. Never let them know how you truly feel. Never show them who you really are. This way, we all fit in. We are made perfect like this. One people, one nation. One family under one government.

The girl looks away, going back to her own work while I do the same, trying to push the thought of her being a traitor from my mind. I'm not the informing type. The risks of telling them that she doesn't have the drug, that she's still fully capable of rebellion, are too high. If I'm wrong, they'll arrest me for trying to mislead them. Then I'll be the traitor to the Imperium.

I'm not entirely sure why they're so worried about people who don't have the drug. Didn't they tell us all that everyone had taken it, and that we would now be trained to "harness our abilities", as they had put it? Didn't they say that the world would be a better place now that everyone had taken it? Either they're lying to us or only worried. I suspect the latter to be true.

Fifty minutes left. The words echo through my head, as they do through everyone else's. Another result of the medicine. They can speak to us by our thoughts, transmitting their thoughts into our minds as a message. But only the people who are a part of the government, the people with power. This is who I want to become. This is who I will become. I will prove myself, I will become the best of them, and then they will see me. Astrid. They will choose me, and then the rest of them will look up to me. I will be the one they've been waiting for, the faultless example.

I continue pouring alongside the rest of my classmates, keeping my hands steady as I do so, despite my aching arms. After the twentieth repetition or so, the gong rings once again to signify the end of today's Pouring.

I keep my gaze trained on my shoes, a soft gray with white laces tied in a simple bow, as I walk out from the room, following the others. We march in straight lines, straight lines that are organized and perfect, uniform and predictable.

We are all bound by their rules. To preserve humanity. To protect our past and our future. To create an equal society. This is our world.

No war, no crime. To find someone who would steal would be the same as to look for a fire that burns without fuel. That is to say, impossible. Like the old saying "looking for a needle in a haystack", only more extreme. This is why we obey them. Because it sets us free.