Miss the Body Remembered

Chapter 1: Class

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
THANK YOU FOR USING BURNS CORPORATION ISSUED TEXTBOOK #21: XEPHOS V HISTORY. BURNS CORP. IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR ANY TECHNICAL ISSUE OR LOGISTICAL ERROR RECORDED WHEN ACCESSING THIS INFORMATION.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
((STUDENT ID INPUT: NO. 2199413, AREA CODE 124.8, EDU-CLASS 1, SUBSET:AVERAGE.))
ANALYZING TEXT...
COMPUTING STANDARD STATISTICAL ALGORITHMS...
CATALOGUING DATA ACCESS...
DATA ACCESSED ON 28/SOLAR TRIMESTER 1/ COLONY YEAR 830. IS THIS CORRECT?
[Y/N]
(Y)
CONTENT DEEMED ACCEPTABLE IN ACCORDANCE WITH XEPHOS V MEDIA PUBLISHING CODE 23, SUBSET H15.6.
INTENDED USE OF CONTENT:
EDUCATIONAL RESOURCE; HISTORY.
BEGIN TEXT TRANSMISSION?
[Y/N]
(Y)
PROCESSING...
PROCESSING...
PREPARING FOR INFORMATION TRANSFER...
------------------
Chapter 3, Section 5: Post-War Changes

After the War of Classes, the economy of Xephos V boomed. Advances in work environment safety and construction techniques led to increases in the production and consumption of materials. However, the growing market required an increase in work forces for companies. Since the Class Treaty outlawed interaction between individuals of separate social classes, colonist-descended businessmen could not hire nonhuman beings or natives of the planet to work on their satellites. Another conseque nce of in cre ased produ c tion wwa s env ironment,,al damage....,,
Te f act,,r satlits,,'&&???? ??:::~~~~||.|_._.*{%\^

???:::|~~\>|;272838|\%\* deva statio,,n
,,,;;;))????....nucl ear w a::ste

***++~_#(7/7:!??,,,,,ignore d b

y sa t elte,,;; ownrs,,??!!...2882))/,

[AN ERROR HAS OCCURRED. PLEASE CONTACT YOUR SYSTEM ADMINISTRATOR.]

"Dammit!"
Alistair slammed his fist into his desktop, causing the sensors in its plastic surface to trill in alarm. The boy tapped the "Dismiss" answer option to the alert window that appeared on the desk's screen without reading it. Massaging his numb hand, the teen glanced around the near-silent classroom, wondering if any of the other students had heard his outburst. All of them were hunched over their respective data-access tablets, so absorbed in the assigned task of reading and highlighting text - for the thousandth time - that none of them would notice a squadron of security droids plasma-cutting through the floor.

Alistair sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he did when he was annoyed. It seemed to him that any time he was required to enter his Student I.D. to access certain database satellites and their information, the tablet activated some secret mechanism that ruined the file and resulted in punishment for "attempted sabotage of educational materials". Alistair hardly understood how to operate the tablet's document creation tool, much less hack into incredibly secure satellite code and destroy his Math homework.
Once again, Alistair was forced to shuffle to the tiny closet in the back of the classroom, retrieving one of the ancient, dusty textbooks used in case of a tech malfunction. He squinted at the words on the page, trying to make out the text amid stains of questionable origin, faded scribbles of rude phrases (mostly misspelled), and patchwork of tears clumsily repaired with yellowing tape. When the class finally ended and every tablet had automatically shut down after saving work, he collected his I.D. card, shoved his tablet into its transport case (after giving it one of his best threatening glares), and huffed out of the room.
Alistair quickly melted into the stream of chattering, excited students all making their way towards the transport bay. He quietly slipped away from the massive throng of teenagers and boarded one of the older, clunkier transport cars in its port. Nodding to the driver as per polite custom, he took his usual seat behind a short girl wearing headphones plugged into her personal comm device (PCD). Alistair set his bag in his lap, wrapped his arms around it, and rested his chin on the top of the bag. He closed his eyes and exhaled, drifting off for a short nap.