Strawberry Fields

New Person

"We have no need for anyone in Earth History. Sir Abott already studies our history. What is your second choice?" The voice ordered.

"But he only studies the recent history, from the last 200 years, not what happened before we left the Surface," I argued. This conversation occurred frequently in my house. Whenever my parents asked me what I wanted to do, I would always answer the same thing. Earth History. The fact that we were able to live on the Surface, among the towering mountains and looming trees, under the brilliant blue sky and with creatures I could only imagine made me wonder why we left. I had never been to the Surface, but I had read books and seen amazing photos of it. The elders say the gods turned on us. One day, they unleashed a great tornado that whipped up sand, buildings, and even the sturdy trees, gobbling them up. Hurricanes tore cities on the coast apart and drought sucked the inland dry while fires scorched the grasslands and forests. I want to study what happened before everything went to hell. Before the earth turned on us, forcing us to seek shelter underground.

"We don't need to know about anything else before that. The only thing that matters is the underground. The Surface is lost to us. Now, tell us your second option." The elder speaking was now standing. He was old, like all of them, and his eyes had an icy blue shine to them, reflecting light tones of bright purple and red from his long robes. His bushy eyebrows tilted in and his already creased forehead wrinkled even more under the stress. My mind drifted to the thought of him having a heart attack right here, and I almost laughed but remembered what I was doing. I glanced at my shoes. The pointed tips had acquired scratches from years of use and the shiny black had dimmed to a matt, almost grey hue.

"Mr. Gray. What is your second choice?" The purple man boomed.

"Tree farmer," I said, my voice scratchy. The whisper of pen on paper sounded through the room as my eyes wandered along the row of elders, studying each of their faces and the color they wore before moving onto the next.

"Good, boy, following the family business." The man said approvingly and walked over to me. For an old man, he moved smoothly, almost like he was floating, unlike most who struggled to make every step, sometimes using sticks as assistance to get around the tunnels. He placed a hand on my shoulder and guided me off the platform and back through the carpeted tunnel to another bright white room. Machines replaced the long, circular platform and the line of ten chairs moved from the center of the room to the right wall and now a long counter, the length of the chairs, sat in front of them. The man moved me to the first machine. A long, silvery table extended out of a circular chamber and gave off the same electric hum as the lights.

"Lay down." A new voice drawled, he seemed bored, like he had done this a few times already today. I listen and lay down on the cold metal, gripping the sides of the table tight. One of the elders placed a set of big headphones over my ears and looked at me. Their mouth moved but heard no words.

The table jerked backward and I almost yelled out but quickly collected myself before I did something stupid to make the elders look down at me more. Slowly the table retracted and the circular chamber closed in over me, concealing me from the harsh lights and eyes outside. A small pop and a crack made me flinch before a voice echoed through the headphones.

"Okay Mr. Gray, this is your first test."