disconnect. (paused)

chapter two.

My eyes snap open.

Where am I? What happened? I can’t move below my waist. I’m on what feels like an examination table. I reach up and take my pulse with two fingers- normal, if a bit high. So I’m alive, but what am I doing here?

A doorway across the room opens. The entire room is almost blindingly white, with silver-accented furniture.  This place smells like back home, I suddenly realize. The silvery-haired man walks in. I’m tempted to start asking him questions, but I keep my mouth shut. No matter how mad I am about what just happened (Did they lie to me? Did they drug me? What did they do to me?), he is a Government official and I must respect him at all costs. He has the power to say two words and have me put to death. Also, he is obviously much older than anyone I’ve ever seen- his hair is starting to turn gray and his stride is almost agonizingly slow. I wonder how he’s able to afford enough calories to live for that many years.

He clears his throat. “Hello again, Fire. Please do not be alarmed. You won’t be able to remember your testing because we wouldn’t want the answers to get out, would we? Though I’m sure you would never do anything like that. Now, about your answers..”

As he kept talking, I strained to remember something, anything about my testing. Actually, I remembered a lot about the questions- nothing particularly weird about the testing itself, just your standard multiple-choice exam, with several essay questions. There were some weirder questions though that seemed to stray away from my school’s curriculum. But I could ponder those later. I turn my attention back to the Leader.

“...and that’s why your total score is a nine-hundred eighty out of one thousand.”

It takes me a second to fully comprehend his words. 980? That’s unheard of from pitiful Sixth Sector. Our Leader doesn’t seem as dumbfounded as I feel, however.

“We’ve been watching you, Fire Ashford. You’ve performed well in all areas and we’re pleased to announce that you have been chosen to move on to University.”

My heart swells with excitement. They only choose five-hundred individuals from the Americas to move on to become University students.

“Now, before you go, I need to fit you with a new transmitter. This little device (pretty much everyone calls it a Bug) will keep you connected with anyone and everyone. I believe in the past civilizations they called it Social Networking. I warn you now, it’s gotten very big in the City. Don’t let the social networking get to your head. You have plenty of studying to do.”

He reaches back and brushes my brownish-reddish hair away from my right ear, and presses the Bug into the space right behind my right earlobe. It tickles for a bit as it settles into my skin. When I reach up to feel for it, nothing’s there. I look at our Leader questioningly.

“It’s settled into your skin. You won’t be able to see or feel it. Everyone at the University will have one, however. They’re also common in the more privileged sectors. You can stay connected to everyone you meet and even people you’ve never spoken to in real life. However, and I can’t say this enough, you have to be careful. It’s dangerous out there.”

This whole idea of social networking was completely foreign. It excited me though. A little buzz went through my head, and our Leader must have known what happened, because he gestured for me to press behind my ear. I did as he showed me, and a voice appeared in my head similar to what happened on the platform outside of the building several hours ago.

“*beep* ‘Message from Doctor Alexander Heathcliff. Press again to listen.’ *beep*”

I pressed again. This time the voice of our Leader played in my mind.

“*beep*  ‘This is what will happen if you get a message or if someone updates their status around you. You can wait to listen to the messages, but they all must be heard within twenty-four hours. Government orders. Understand? And only one other rule: You must respond to messages from authoritative figures. Sound simple enough?’

Then a robot-sounding voice, same as the one that originally announced I had a message, instructed me of the following.  

“End of message. To reply press once, to delete press twice. To ignore, do nothing. *beep*”

Our Leader (I guess I should call him Dr. Heathcliff now) nods at me. “You don’t have to respond. I’m right here. Now, any questions?”

I shake my head no.

“Well, what do you say? Would you like to join us at the University? I’m sure you’ll have a fantastic time. What do you say?”

He reaches out to shake my hand. I make my decision in a split second.

“Yes, please. Thank you for everything, Dr. Heathcliff.”

I shake his hand with a firm grip.

Tomorrow I start my studies at the National University, but tonight will be devoted to catching up with this whole Social Networking thing. I definitely don’t want to seem like a newbie when I arrive to join the City kids.