The Student: Brave New World

"I Do Love Flying."

The student shifted his clipboard so it was hanging under his left arm, between his elbow and his midriff, the pen falling slightly out of its holder. He stood for a moment, directing his attention to the small man behind the counter. He smiled. "Hello. Transportation from Central London Hatchery and Conditioning Centre to College of Emotional Engineering. Preferred Mode: Helicopter." He held up travel papers.

The Delta behind the counter nodded, repositioning the shaggy brown hair that hung over his eyes so he could better see the documents the student passed him. He picked up a pen, checked a few boxes, and clicked a few buttons on his computer. A moment later, he looked back at the student. "Your helicopter will be ready in about five minutes time. Feel free to sit and try some of our Soma candy bars while you wait."

The student nodded, then sat down in one of the padded metal chairs along the wall of the waiting room. He picked up a magazine and started flipping through the pages. He got bored of this a moment later, then directed his attention elsewhere. Looking around the room, he noticed, plastered on the wall, a sign that said the three words he had heard over and over for his entire life: COMMUNITY, IDENTITY, STABILITY.

The student thought back to Mustapha Mond's words from an hour and a half earlier.

"Just try to realize it," Mond had said. "Try to realize what it was like to have a viviparous mother." At the time, the student had done nothing other than stand there. He did not react, as most others did. He just stood and thought. He thought of the lab, back when he was a child, of the shocks, of the mangled curiosity, of the constant whispering in his ear at night.

He shivered in his seat.

He considered having some Soma candy to lighten his mood but waved the thought from his mind. Now was not the time. He had to think. He tried to realize what it was like to have a viviparous mother. He tried to think of a life without labs and conditioning and castes.

The student could only picture that strange kind of life one way: nothing but warmth and comfort. Hugs and support. A family. He thought of not only a mother, but a father, siblings. He wondered what it would be like to have a brother, someone who grew up the same way he did, but became a different possibility of himself. He wished he could know someone like that, someone he could feel connected to in more ways than one. The closest to a family he had were his fellow students, but even they disappeared when he went anywhere else. They always left him for games, and he could feel them drift away any time they ingested Soma, could feel himself drift away when he chose to as well. Is this how life is supposed to be?

He pressed his palm to his forehead and closed his eyes. The student found himself longing for a world in which someone could choose when to grow up, instead of life being forced upon them. He thought of choice. He thought of people having differences. He thought until the possibilities overwhelmed him.

He leaned back, resting his head against the wall.

"Um, excuse me. Your helicopter is ready."

Jolted from his thoughts, the student gaped at the Delta that sat blissfully behind the counter. "Th-thank-thank you," he stammered. He stood, his clipboard still under his arm, exactly where he left it. The student walked calmly to the Delta, gathered his papers, and stepped through the doorway onto the roof, where his helicopter sat waiting, just for him, the propellers still spinning from its last journey. He repeated some of the words that had been whispered to him during the long nights as he fell asleep. "I do love flying."

Please note that some of the lines in this text are from "Brave New World" by Aldous Huxley. Credit to him and the world he made.