Control

XI

"Today, class," the Educator had told us one morning in Year 1. Everyone was so small, and the Educator somehow looked 30 years younger— perhaps that was all the stress I put on him over the years, "we're going to be discussing something that all of you will need to know for your adulthood."

Everyone started to get excited, whilst I just groaned and rolled my eyes. They all were so weird, even for me. They'd hate doing simple work, like colouring in rainbows or animals, but loved to be learning about things we'd need to know about in adulthood. I never got that. Wouldn't the colours of the rainbow be useful in everyday life?

"We're going to be talking about a very important blood test," he said, and per usual, all the kids cheered, while I sat there stunned. What's a blood test? I asked myself, racking my brain for the little knowledge I had.

No one else was confused. They were all happily contributing to the conversation. "Everyone remembers getting it done," small Jules said, and sat with a straighter back, looking proud. "You have to get it done because your parents don't want you to be a mean person."

Everyone? Even as a small child, I could never remember that happening. All the classmates shared their thoughts and stories on the topic, while I just sat in silence.

I asked my Mother about it, and she had told me to just say it had been done— she'd never heard of a story where a child doesn't remember the test, and she didn't want me to be an outsider. I was always an outsider, so I don't really think that helped, but a woman can try. She said to make up one story and stick by it.

So I did. For about 10 years. And the storytelling isn't gonna end now.

"You can't possibly expect me to believe my Mother— my Mother— is a Reformer?" I asked bewildered, looking around at the Officials with wide eyes.

"Was, sorry 'bout that," said a pudgy man who hadn't said anything up until this point. "The only good news is that you're her only child and you didn't catch the disease."

I wanted to ask them what the disease was. I wanted to ask them what the hell was so genetic about Reformers. But, like always, those and hundreds of other questions were buzzing around my head, and even if they did have answers, I had a feeling I didn't want to figure them out.

"So, lemme get this straight," Ashton said, "the Officials and Officers and every other person with a high ranking in the Division had a warning about Reformers, which you ignored when some injured strange woman is hauled in. Said woman falls in love with an Official and has a child with him. Everyone thinks she's not a Reformer just because of a blood test. The two O's catch a report of person who went crazy. Everyone knows they were a Reformer. Still don't check on the only person who could be a Reformer in the Division. The woman then goes crazy when husband dies, and tries to throttle her daughter. Please tell me I'm making some of this up."

"Nope, erm, sounds about right," our driver said, though she looked kinda nervous.

"Then what the fuck. What did you tell to all the Adults and Elders? They all seem so paranoid. If they had known someone had just waltzed right through into the Division..." he faltered for a moment. After a second or so, he glared at the lady. "You didn't tell 'em she was a sort of refugee, did you?"

The pudgy man sighed. "No. We didn't really want to listen to the orders. We'd gotten so many couples and random persons coming to our Division that were so nice. We thought if we could bring all of them in, one other person wouldn't do harm."

"That's what you get for being an optimist," Jules muttered, looking over at Ashton. Said boy must've heard him, because he turned around around and flashed him a big grin, right before sticking his tongue out.

"And—" I stopped myself, trying to find the best words for this. Whenever I went over it in my head, I always thought it came out kind of offensive. "What can you say about my Father? No offence, but there were multiple people there and he was the only one who was killed."

The Officials looked uneasy. They looked at each other and immediately I realized that they didn't really want to answer that question, but I didn't care. My Father was my Father, and I wanted to know how the hell a gunner could have that much accuracy that they could hit him in a car of another 4 people, in the middle of a group of cars, without hitting anyone else. If that question makes them uneasy, then so be it, because it'll be a hell of a lot more uneasy when I have one of them in a choke hold demanding for answers.

"About that..." our driver trailed off. "When the Officers and all them dissected the other Reformer from a while ago, we figured out that they had heightened senses, along with many other qualities. If a Reformer wanted to only kill your Father, it would be significantly easier for them to do that, then any human."

Rain frowned. "Why would they want to kill April's Father? I mean, he was the Head Official, but if that was the case, it wouldn't have been that hard to have done the assassination before?"

Mr. Pudgy sighed. "We still have no idea. We don't exactly have any Reformers that we can talk to to reasonably get any answers."

Jules' eyebrows furrowed. "Reasonably? How would you even find or take a Reformer from their clusters? I've never heard of a case where anyone caught one and got any information out of it."

Even I rolled my eyes. "J," I said, "If you caught something that could maybe single handedly wipe out any humans on this land, do you really think the Officers would tell everyone? Imagine all that chaos. Paranoia? Especially if they were doing anything...dangerous," I trailed off, looking over to glare at the Official tour guides. "Don't tell me you're doing anything dangerous."

Our driver smirked at us. "Well, everyone's definition of dangerous is different, right? I guess you'll have to come and see for yourself."