The Adventures at Blue Moon Prep part 2 (rough)

Phillip crept down the hall. It was lined with dusty old portraits of administrative persons wearing distinguished beards and severe glares. Phillip didn't care too much about the school's history, and frankly, the portraits gave him the spooks. He was surely being quiet, but some bumbling drunk idiot was making a rukus. His hall mates could not hold their liquor.
The hall opened at the right into a large room, and continued its hall-like ways about ten feet further down. An elegant and rustic old door loomed to the left, facing the room. Phillip paused before the wall on his right ended. " Right mates!", he called in what he hoped was a stage whisper, " Be bloody careful here. Outside is just down the hall and 'round the corner!" There was a clatter as something fell to the floor. Phillip tensed and looked intently along his route. He saw a dark shadow dart over the floor at the end of the opposite hall. Phillip jumped back to press himself against the wall, but missed the distance and fell on his rear. He froze. His heart was beating like a firecracker.
Outside, he had run to a far section of wall and tried to scale it. The vines and moss on the stone wall seemed sharply focused in the moonlight. He grunted as he reached the top of the wall. "WHoo hoo!" he called,"Lookit meeee!"
When the morning sun sobered him up, Phillip trudged to the dining hall. He saw some of his hall mates and sat down with them. He tried to take a swig of someone's orange juice, but couldn't seem to catch a grip. The cup just tilted and sloshed juice everywhere. He looked at it closely to try to grasp it correctly. "Phil," gordy george said anxiously, "Phil, you're dead, Phil."

Phillip groans at the memory. A few of the students twitch and look back at him from their seats in detention. Phillip makes a face at them and they turn away. He'd died in November, and still hadn't managed to find a way back into his body. There were two other ghosts at Blue Moon Prep. One of the past presidents, who liked to hang out behind his picture in the hall and eavesdrop on students, and Tommy Tinkler, a whimp of a boy who had died for his own safety. The past president wasn't too bothersome, and his authority and past service kept the current administration from doing anything. Staff had given up on Tommy a decade ago. The insufferable boy was at once a book worm and an idiot. Besides this, he had a nasally voice and was known for taking extra long in the men's room to, well, you get the picture.
Phillip was disgusted by Tommy and bitterly resented him. Tommy spent almost every minute with Phillip and was propagating the idea that they were bosom friends. Phillip had spent his entire winter holiday at the school, with no one but Tommy and teachers for company. He was concerned that his friends would forget him, or think of him in league with Tommy, for their shared disembodied issue. The week before the break, his friends had avoided him at every opportunity, and had complained to the dorm mother when he tried to sleep in his bed. As a ghost, of course, he couldn't really sleep. But Phillip had wanted the familiarity of his life.
His teachers were frustrated with him.They were pressuring him to remember his cause of death, reconnect with his body, and rejoin the living. As it was, he would have to sit through detention daily to answer questions about the lesson books he had read during the day. The headmistress was furious that he had not succeeded by the end of the winter holiday. She assigned extra reading and meetings with the campus priest in the hope of expediting the process. The teachers had lost hope for Tommy tinkler, and so long as he stayed out of their way, they didn't bother to go to the expense of an exorcism. Despite his recently acquired surly attitude, most of the staff wanted Phillip to re-substantiate. He was a promising tennis player and they hoped to have a strong team for competitions later that year. His manner as a ghost was also quite disturbing. No one could place it exactly, but being around Phillip put off their appetites, made them feel queasy, and had started a nervous twitch in one of the students.
Phillip hated getting lectured about reconnecting to his body. He wanted to do so more than they could guess. It wasn't his fault he couldn't remember much of the night very clearly.
The teacher at the front of the class continued briefing the hall leaders on procedure for orienting the new students. Phillip did his best to look interested. Unfortunately, Tommy Tinkler didn't care if he was interested or not. " Hey Philly, " he whispered, levitating upside-down from the ceiling. "We're going to have brilliant fun! Going to school as a ghost is fascinating" Phillip cut him short. " I will not be going to school as a ghost, Tinkler. Leave me alone." The teacher, Mrs. Morgan, glared at the two transparent boys in the back of her room. "Silence!" she commanded. Phillip decided he would stay sitting, no matter how boring the seating procedures of opening ceremonies was. If he left, Tommy would follow him. And Tommy was better at paranormal tricks than Phillip was.
Tommy didn't seem to get the message. He floated sideways until he was crouching next to Phillip's ear. "I can teach you to do that, huh? Levitating. And I know great spots to spy on people. You know you can almost taste food when you put your tongue through it, and--" Phillips had had enough. He doubted ghosts could touch each other, but he hoped the action would at least give him some satisfaction. Phillip turned and swung hard and fast at Tommy. His fist raked through the boy's ghost form like a solid hand moving through smoke. But it felt much thicker, as if Phillip's arm was pushing through mud, and his fingers were liable to fall loose and get stuck in it.
Tommy shivered and levitated himself out the window. Phillip grinned briefly. Now he was free to think. The next day, old and new students would be arriving. He could not stand to be known as Tommy Tinkler's friend, pathetic ghost boy. He'd figure out how to reconnect to his body by the next day, or he'd leave.

The Adventures at Blue Moon Prep part 1

The adventures at blue moon prep.
Marianne woke up to her cat's claws making a steady piston-like invasion of her stomach.The action was accompanied by a grated purring. Marianne scrubbed hair out of her eyes and whined,"Buttonhole, get off". The sleek leopard like creature drawled out an angry meow and slowly walked off Marianne, by passage of her face. Marianne wasn't too upset though, this would be the last time she saw her cat for a year at least. Marianne stretched and stepped out of bed. She brushed her teeth and put her toiletries into her dressing box, to be attached to her luggage. She sighed as she looked into the mirror as she set her hair for the day, thinking of the wonderful boarding school she was going to attend. She'd learn to be a real lady and wear lace and ride horses and take fencing lessons and dance the Tango and all such exciting and worldly skills. She would hear no more "Bad Marianne." or " Stop bothering me Marianne" or "Marianne, look what trouble you've caused". Marianne was sure she would be entirely well-behaved at school, for she would never be bored and idle. She imagined she would become a young lady with merits and reputation of which her parents would be proud. And that after schooling, she'd court all the fine gentlemen and perhaps engage a prince or dignitary.
Marianne rinsed her face seven times before the cat's pawing at the door became unbearable. She sighed heavily and stomped to the door, thrusting it open angrily. In a haughty voice she lectured, " At the preparatory I am absolutely sure there will no be anyone as impatient as you! No wonder how I have so far turned out, with such a creature as example. There. go on to breakfast, stupid cat." The maid servant Jeannie was cowering behind the door. " 'pologies Miss, but the Master and Missus aren't awake yet, and your train is to be leaving in a scant hour, Miss. I've prepared breakfast and such, though it is against propriety, what with the master and Missus still in bed and all. I don't know what to do to wake them, Miss, but I was just coming by to wake you--" The woman was left talking to thin air with only her severe brown uniform to listen.
Marianne was like a whirlwind. First she entered the marbled and heavily curtained room in which her mother slept, at the end of the hall. It had marvelous large windows overlooking the street. If rooms were not accustomed to remaining in the location where they were built, Marianne was sure her mother would change its situation as often as she updated the decorations to the wild new fashion. Marianne bit back her anger and fueled the energy into speed. She splashed basin water on her sleeping mother, who rose in a shrieking rage. "What!? I'm drowning! Oh heavens! What is this! Who is to be fired today! eh?!" Marianne had fled to the third room to the left, her father's chambers. She paused outside the door, but a nearby clock ticked menacingly and she squared her shoulders and walked inside. Her father had earplugs in. Marianne did not consider any action which would provoke him to anger, as she needed him on her side with no time for explanations. She shook his shoulder. He woke with a start. "Wh-what is it my dear? Is the house on fire? Where is your dressing gown? I didn't spend so much money on it just to have an impressive item on my account book", he muttered, becoming more lucid as he chuckled at his own joke. "Father" Marianne burst, "Father, the train, we will be late!" Her father brushed his mustache with his thumb and forefinger. "Now now. what is the fuss. The house is not on fire? What is this about a train?" Marianne inhaled sharply. She felt she was running more efficiently than a steam-engine with all her pent up emotion coursing through her. "Train for school. Blue Moon Preparatory School. Where I will be absent unless we catch this train! " Her father sniffed and began to ask " When does it ---?" and Marianne, scurrying out the room shouted behind her, " It leaves within the hour. Get dressed and have breakfast! Quickly!"
She hugged Jeannie when the woman told her the carriage was all prepared. Jeannie moved the luggage as Sarah helped Marianne with some tricky hooks and skirts. Twenty minutes later, her mother fluttered into the main hall and called impatiently, "Well look at you two, making us late! Hurry, we need to make a good impression on the neighbors. They cannot see us rushing about!" Marianne dropped her toast and her father set down his tea, briskly folding his morning paper under his arm and placing his traveling hat on his head. They rushed to the door and walked nonchalantly to the carriage, Marianne complaining and darting back and forth impatiently. Once inside, Marianne's mother demanded to know why she hadn't been informed previously. " It was lucky that I had this dress to wear. Imagine if I had been out of my wits and had thrown on any old thing. I'd be a laughing stock. Entirely out of place. As it is, my hair is dreadful and I'm probably unmatched to the event. Where are we going, my dear?"She continued. Marianne began to answer but her mother silenced her. " Be quiet dear, I know you are the horrid culprit of this morning drenching. You shall face your punishment later." Marianne sighed and looked out the window anxiously.
Her father opened his paper and continued to read, ignoring his wife. '" Why do you do that Charles? I just asked you a question! Why its insulting. I'm being treated as a mere bit of furniture by my own husband!" she commented. The man remained stoic until swatted with a fan. " You must tell me what we are doing here, and in such a hurry," she ordered. Charles adjusted his paper and grunted, "A man must know the goings on in the world. If he is not discussing the goings on, he should be reading about it." Marianne offered a meek "a-hem" to the conversation. She felt resentful that her departure to school was so easily forgotten. " Father, Mother, I am going off to school today. We have almost missed the train because-" Her mother interrupted, chiding, "Stop talking out of turn, dear. Its unseemly." She coughed and tugged her sleeves. "Besides," she continued, " You don't leave for school until mid- January. It can't be mid January, for we haven't attended the Pillington's ball, which was to be early January, don't you remember?"
She rapped the roof of the carriage and leaned out the window. "Driver, what is today?"she shouted. The man answered politely, "The thirteenth of January, Madame." "Goodness! Are we headed to the train station?" She responded. The driver made a sharp turn and coughed at the dust. "Yes, We should be arriving shortly Madame." She ducked back into the carriage and smiled. "Well see, there is nothing to worry over Marianne. I must have forgotten, oh yes! We canceled the Pillington's in favor of the Mandrake's. We so rarely get the chance to enter their estate." She continued in this manner, recounting her recent appearances in society, until they reached the station.
As the driver unloaded the luggage, Marianne was met with a new experience. Her mother seemed confused and flustered about what to say. She pulled a handkerchief out and stretched the fabric between her anxious fingers in her lap. "Dear," she began, "Dear, do well in your studies. Think of your reputation. You are fortunate to be going to such a prestigious institution" She paused and surveyed her daughter's ensemble." Oh I wish you had let me help you choose your clothes, dear, you look very stubby and sour in that frock. But I suppose there isn't time now, is there?" Marianne looked eagerly to her father for his parting words. He took a deep breath and twitched his mustache. "Do your father proud, dear. Make good connections, and- Oh!" he said, looking into the throng of people by the train, " Why if it isn't Gerald Custerfield. I must be off to say hello!" he announced, and left.
Marianne looked after her father for a few seconds and cursed him silently. She turned to her mother and wished her goodbye then showed her ticket to the luggage assistant. He dashed some number onto the back of her ticket which corresponded with her luggage and handed it back to her. As she followed the trunk-bearer and his dolly, Marianne spotted her friend Jezebel. Jezebel was standing anxiously by a pillar next to a train door, searching the crowd. Marianne waved and called, rushing towards her. They embraced eagerly and rushed onto the train.

Marianne considered Jezebel so much of a friend as to be considered a sister. They had stayed long visits to discuss their hopes and fears regarding the preparatory school. Jezebel was wearing a filmy white frock with lace on the sleeves. When they were seated in a car, Marianne complimented her. " Oh you look beautiful Jezebel! But its awfully nasty of you!" she added. " We had arranged to match in crimson and brown, and now I look misplaced!" Jezebel noticed the tears leaking down Marianne's face and gasped. " Oh Marianne!", she exclaimed, "I am so terribly sorry. Mother forced it on me. She convinced herself that this dress is more flattering, and she wanted me to make a favorable impression, you know." Marianne nodded with her head down and reached into her pocket for a handkerchief. Jezebel was worried. " My Marianne, I am so unhappy to have distressed you so. Mothers can be such monsters sometimes. You know I often imagine mine has grown fur and horns." Jezebel hesitated. Marianne had shuttered after the word "Mother". Jezebel smiled mischievously. "You did remember to pack your hunting knife, Marianne, didn't you?" Marianne paused and looked up in confusion. Her face was a terrible sight- red and blotchy. Jezebel held firm her smile and continued on. " Well you know, we will be preparatory girls very soon, and shall have to fend off the boys daily," she said matter-of-factly. "For they are said to go crazy at full moon, and we shall be full moon daily! Think! We will not be safe taking swimming lessons. We will have to behave like amazons, and cut men out of trees. The school must be surrounded by dense jungle, to deter the masculine youths!" Marianne giggled at this. Jezebel gained confidence and continued, " Oh yes, and fences and boobie traps! Why I suppose there must be three hundred bear traps and hidden nets around the perimeter of the school. But you realize, of course, that they will have to install additional precautions when we arrive. Perhaps a league of buglers to sound alarm. But they would have to be blind, or very near it, to avoid the temptation themselves." Marianne sniffed determinedly. "How," she asked, " could they sound alarm if they cannot see intruders?" Jezebel laughed. "Well of course they would stand elbow to elbow in a circle, with their backs to the school, for the ones who could see partially, you know, and anyone who tried to enter would have to pass through them." Marianne imagined the numbers of men it would take to protect the ladies at the preparatory school. She smiled and said "I am so glad to know you Jezebel. You are my dearest friend and such a treasure. We really must have a room together, for I cannot think what I would do without you." Jezebel smiled , happy to have cheered her friend. The two chat animatedly until the train arrived at their stop.

They stepped out of the train. Marianne signals for the attention of a luggage attendant. He took their tickets and searched for their luggage out of a compartment on the train. Marianne and Jezebel surveyed the small and nearly empty station. Marianne had an uncomfortable feeling growing in her stomach, but kept it to herself. A few minutes later, The man wheeled their possessions over to them on a dolly. "Here ye are misses." Marianne glanced with wrinkled brow towards the luggage. " Thank you sir. What do you expect us to do with it?" She asked , affronted. The man tugged his cap and made to move away, but Marianne continued. " We are matriculating students of the Full Moon Preparatory School for Proper Ladies" she said, "and were instructed to meet representatives here, who would escort us to the school."
The man jittered and tried to mumble an excuse as he backed away. Marianne commanded,"Stop right there! Where are you going? Do you expect to leave two young ladies alone in an empty train station? Unthinkable. I'm sure you can assist us find our party." Marianne was very shocked at the man's behavior. He seemed to reconsider and stepped towards them, but hesitated and refused to draw near. Marianne felt it a failing on her part and became even more haughty and superior. "The nerve of some people today. So little breeding it is no wonder they work as animals for a living."
The man clenched his fists and stomped. "I'm sorry miss, but everyone around here knows its no good to associate with Blue Moon students. The lot of them behave in a manner that is as far from civility as one can get. I bid you good-day miss." He said, and stormed off, deaf to their cries of astonishment.
Jezebel took Marianne's hand and whispered worriedly, "What shall we do?" Marianne tilted her head up and said with resolve, " We remain calm." They looked about the train station, but it was eerily empty. A large arched portal marked the center of the structure. A covering of navy canvas high above them shaded the platform between the train and the station. To their right, a sign post marked three paths which splintered from the platform. The middle path was paved with white stone. The far left of the platform ended in barrels of greenery, beyond which curved a narrow, dusty road.
Marianne approached the seemingly only other person in the area. " Pardon me," she said. The man was checking a pocket watch, and looked very surprised to see Marianne. " Oh yes, a-hem, what is it you lady?" He replied. Marianne put on her most innocent and vulnerable face. "Sir, please, my friend and I are victims of some miscommunication. We need to find someone from the Full Moon preparator-" "Oh it is down that white path. I suppose if they haven't sent someone to get the luggage, you'll have to push it on the dolly. Good Day" He said quickly, and walked away.
Jezebel approached Marianne, who was standing in shock and confusion. "My, Marianne, what did you say to him to make him scamper off so quickly?" Marianne turned in astonishment, but Jezebel smiled gently and pointed toward two women. They were walking primly up the path which the man had indicated and seemed full of purpose. The women were very old , with purplish hair from faded boot black. They were both dressed in coal grey, but one was shorter than the other and had an umbrella, which she was using as a walking stick. The other woman had no remarkable features but for a silver brooch. They reached the girls and shook their hands silently. Both had proud, self assured smiles on their faces. "Welcome dears!" greeted the brooch-wearing one. Her voice quavered, but was filled with warmth. "Are you from?", asked Marianne " Blue Moon Academy, that's right dear" answered the shorter woman. "Now," she continued, "We'll handle your luggage. A coach will meet us after dinner in town. But you two must head back to the school now." Marianne sighed in relief. She glanced around for a carriage or buggy. The old woman chuckled. "Along that road there," she said, pointing back the way the two old women had come, "Its a long walk so you'd best get going!"
Marianne took a few steps in the direction before she stopped and gasped. " You don't mean for us to walk all the way!? How far is it?"She asked. The taller of the two women smiled comfortingly. "It is only four miles, dear. Oh. And I almost forgot! You must tell the gate guard 'Lavenberry' to gain entrance. Just procedure darlings." Jezebel tried to conceal a look of horror. "You, you actually expect us to trudge all the way there? On foot?"she asked timidly. "Why yes," said the shorter woman jovially, "unless you would like to fly there instead." She waved her umbrella about in the air and laughed. " Now shoo, you two. We'll see each other soon." said the taller woman. Both called goodbye and then walked primly out of the station.
Marianne and Jezebel stood in confusion for a few minutes before they sighed and began down the paved path. " Did I hear them correctly, " Jezebel asked, "did they say 'Blue Moon Academy'?" She looked at the signpost worriedly as they passed. " I thought the name was 'Full Moon Preparatory for young Ladies'."

Chapter 4 of Jan of the Future

Chapter 4

Thirteen levels below ground and four rows interior laid the trade school eye piece workshop. Technicians practiced making repairs and performed adjustments and implants for reduced prices, as they sometimes made mistakes. A cheap white and blue light illuminated the doorway. Jan sat on a counter as she fidgeted with tools an her eye piece. Paul took bites of a bread roll between complaints about the food and thanks for Jan in turns.
He was trying to make himself as unaware as possible of the heavy equipment being fitted to his face. The technician removed the machine and replaced it with another one. “This smells foul” Paul said. “Really really awful. Why are we doing this again?” Jan smirked and responded, “Oh I don't know. For a whim.” She had decided that as long as she was taking care of someone who seemed to be from an historical film, she may as well act as if she were part of the same movie.

She had been unable to detect Paul's master plan in the past hour and was beginning to suspect that he had none. Jan was sure the events of the day had knocked her score beyond help and the knowledge was oddly freeing. She felt she might as well enjoy the inevitable journey to whichever prison or lunatic cell she was now destined. Something about Paul made it difficult for her to resent him for her predicament.
He smiled and chuckled nervously. The technician was bringing a series of small drills toward his right eye. Paul inhaled sharply and clenched his fists. “Wait. Wait wait wait-wait-wait-wait” he said, panicking. Then he screamed and kicked his feet out. The technician drew back slightly and looked in confusion at the patient. The technician asked,“What does DGW3837280 say?”, in the universal code. Paul was having trouble breathing. He blurted “Stop” in universal code and turned to Jan, his nutritionally enhanced bread forgotten on the floor.
“Jan,” he pleaded, “ Is this absolutely essential? I mean, can't I just do everything manually?” Jan let concern show in her eyes and tried to hide her amusement over his small tantrum. “No, I don't think so, Paul. It is most efficient to have a mount imbedded in the temple of the forehead.” she said. “Screw Efficiency!” Paul shrieked. He turned to the technician and chopped out a phrase in the universal code. He had a very bad accent. It translated to “Alternative to eyepiece?!”. The technician said curtly, “no” and lifted a jar of what looked like melted crayons and glue.

Paul looked around nervously. “What does that do? What is it for? Tell me Jan!” Jan jiggled her eye piece in her hands and brought it to her face. “It is a … what is the ancient English word...anesthesia, antiseptic,” she said, stumbling over the words as she listed them “calcium nutrient, moisturizer...” “Moisturizer?!” Paul interjected, shreiking. “Relax, Paul, really. Its ok” Jan soothed, “ Think of it as a … uhh... what's the word... torture... no. tack, tackgoo. Thats it. Think of it as a tackgoo or ear piercing or something. Women and men pierced their ears throughout human history for the sake of improving appearance. You can handle this, and it is much more functional.” Paul jumped a few times but tried to hold still through the procedure. “Tattoo, tattoo” he said to himself like a mantra.

Paul woke up feeling woozy. He was laying on a table and there was a clear and blueish lens in front of his right eye. It had a scrolling display that twitched and changed whenever he blinked his eyes. The eye piece wasn't actually touching his eye, but it came very close.

“I feel like the borg” He mumbled. Jan said excitedly, “Ooh I get the reference! Star Trek, right! You are the only other person I know who is interested in this stuff. Well, other than the teacher. But they treat everything analytically.” She paused for breath, “I suppose I am to ask how you are feeling? Not very good I expect. You fell right to the floor, luckily the technician had just finished inserting the mount. You won't have to do that again for at least a few .. well I guess the conversion is years, isn't it?” Paul had no idea Jan was so talkative. His mind was struggling to keep up with her. “I feel gross” he moaned.
Jan put her hand on his and said quietly, “ok. We can sit here for awhile. The eye pieces aren't synced up online yet, so you don't have to worry about getting up in an efficient amount of time.” Paul wasn't quite sure what that meant. “ What the hell is an efficient amount of time?”

Jan sighed. “ It varies,” she said, “but for eye piece adjustments, it is about 5 minutes and 22 seconds.” Paul concentrated on not moving his arms, now he could feel them again. He knew if he let them go of their own free will, the eye piece would be history in far less than 5 minutes and 22 seconds. “Its nice to know I have a solid number to compare myself to on even recovering from operations” He remarked sarcastically. Jan frowned. “Well,” she said, “If it makes you feel better, you had an installation, not just an adjustment, and everyone gets installations when they are still infants, when it doesn't hurt so much.” There were a few moments of silence where Jan resumed tinkering with her eye piece to avoid feeling awkward. Paul groaned and took a deep breath. He wiggled his feet and when he felt secure he wouldn't pass out, he sat up. “Hey,” he said, a bit more strength in his voice now, “Why does everyone keep score?”

Jan turned towards him and then turned away. She didn't want to talk about it. She didn't want to use herself as an example of the downside of scores. “ I got you something” Jan said, changing the subject. She handed Paul a nutrition bar. He opened it and cautiously took a bite, worried about the bitter taste. “hey!,” He said in surprise, “Its Chocolate!. How'd you get that?” Jan looked down at a screen which was next to a holder for her eye piece. “ Be quiet. Wait...” she said, “ There! I hacked the system. I've opened up a blind window. We can talk in this room privately. The technician will only see it as a standard memory reboot error. Your act isn't fooling me. Of course you know universal code and why we keep score. You don't have to go to such extreme limits to prove you don't.” Paul started to interrupt, but Jan drew herself up and looked him intensely in the eye.

“You know someone in the government, that man who dropped you off this morning. I wasn't dreaming. Maybe you being here is all an experiment, destruction, or whatever but I'm willing to make a trade. I gave you chocolate. I can translate for you if you really don't know universal code. I'm assigned to help you adjust. If you want to keep that front intact, you will have to have my cooperation. If you can use your government contacts to bring my score up to what it should have been if you hadn't intervened, then I'll help you. Otherwise you can fend for yourself and have a splendid career in taste-testing foods grown in radioactive soil for all I care.” Paul was astounded. “You're bribing me?”he asked. Jan looked ashamed but answered defiantly, “yes”.

Her eyes widened as she looked at the ceiling. There was a display showing a blue circle slowly fading away. Jan whispered “fuck” and glared at Paul. “Be quiet!” She warned. The circle faded away completely and Jan waited tensely. A few seconds later the technician walked in. “ There was a computer reboot. Ineffective repair work? Assistance required?” he asked, looking at no one in particular. Jan stepped forward and stood in front of him. “Mistake in repair. Correction being carried out. Assistance not required at this time,”she said mechanically in universal code. The technician spared a confused glance towards Paul before turning out the door. “What's going on?” Paul asked. Jan ignored him and fidgeted with a manual computer screen in the corner a the room. It had a side counter with an array of tools and replacement parts, each labeled with a price.

Paul was having a bit of trouble adjusting his focus and the strain was making him dizzy again. He settled on squinting his right eye shut and faced Jan to speak. That seemed to be the procedure. “Jan!” he called, “what is going on? Look at reason- if I were here with ulterior motives, I'd be able to blend in. I really need your help, but I can't do anything for your score. I don't see why it is such a big deal, anyways.” Jan glanced up at the ceiling, which now had a large illuminated circle displayed on it. She regarded Paul cautiously. “You answer my questions,” she commanded.

Paul sighed. “I'm sorry, but I can't help you. My dad sent me here as punishment. I was exiled from the commune--” Jan interrupted him, her eyes on the ceiling. “ You. Will. Answer. My. Questions,” she growled. Paul was surprised. He didn't realize she had more than a monotone voice setting. Paul stuttered, “o-ok”and waited for the onslaught. She turned to him and asked in universal code, “ How did you come here?” Paul struggled to understand for a few seconds. “Barge transport”, he answered with some effort. Jan glared at him. She quickly looked up at the ceiling again and demanded in universal code, “Where did you come from? Origins? Orders for your mission?” Paul flinched and answered, “ I don't understand.” Jan whispered, “impossible” under her breath in Ancient English. Paul heard it and perked up. “No, not impossible. I'm from a different place and ghoster code is my second language.” Jan began to answer but the size of the circle was diminishing. She asked instead, with a hint of desperation, “Can you fix my score?”

Paul glanced at the display and the counter of tools. “No, “ he answered, “ but wait!” Jan gripped the edge of the table with the screen on it. “Your eye piece thingymagidjet is broken, right?” he asked. Jan agreed. “But,” she said, “I can fix it, I mean, everyone with a mechanical skills score above 450,000 has to repair their eye pieces personally. I can put it back online when you get me the points I need.” She looked at him impatiently. He wasn't doing anything. “Hurry up, I can't wait all day. Do something!” Paul raised his arms in exasperation. “What do you want me to do!” He realized he still had a chocolate bar in his hand. “How, how did you get this? If your eye piece thing was broken, can't you just do everything manually?” Jan looked at him incredulously. “No. Because it is inefficient and it docks one's score!” Paul thought for a second. “How?” he asked.

Jan threw her hands up in despair and growled. “How what?!” she asked with venom. “How,” repeated Paul, “can a score be docked if everything is done manually? If you control what is recorded?” Jan sighed in frustration and explained, “ When an eyepiece is overdue for a checkup or something, and doesn't measure your score, you have to report everything to a screen, like the one here,” she indicated the screen to which here eyepiece was attached, “and it measures what you've done and takes away a percentage of points based on how long it took you to get the eyepiece repaired.” She crossed her arms and glared at Paul.

Paul smiled. “Why don't you lie?” he asked. “About what you report, why don't you lie?” Jan scoffed. “ Oh please. “If I were to do that, I might as well rig my eye piece to give me a great score forever.” Paul started, “ Wait. Repeat that! Jan. Jan, could you really do that? Hack into the system and cheat it? Then you could fix your score and you'd be free!” Jan sighed, “Well , theoretically, I suppose. But why? You are supposed to earn your score. But a barbarian like you would not know anything about honor or fairness. I've studied Ancient English too, but at least I do not pretend I'm still living in the chaos of the past.” Paul ignored the insult and glanced at the fading circle. He stepped close to her and put his hand on her arm. “You were willing to blackmail me for a false score a few minutes ago, how much honor is that?”he said.

Before Jan had a chance to reply, the circle faded and the technician entered the room again. “I have another appointment now and need this room” he said in universal code. Jan and Paul looked at each other and Jan picked up her eye piece. “But we aren't done” Paul whispered, “ Don't you have to fix your eye piece?” Jan nudged him in the shoulder to get him to shut up. She was halfway across the room when she realized Paul hadn't followed her. She stopped. He wasn't moving. The technician repeated his message. Paul stood still with his arms crossed. “Say please” he demanded. Jan was shocked. “I have another appointment now and need this room” said the technician, confused by the strange utterances of the young man. The technician was very confused and distressed, merely repeating the phrase over and over. Paul was not reacting in an efficient manner.
Jan walked back and dragged Paul out of the room. As the exited the door, Paul's eye piece gleamed and a blue display began tallying numbers.

Jan of the Future Chapter 2 and 3

Chapter 2

Jan tried to collect herself as she was dragged along. She wasn't quite sure what had just happened, or if she'd be pulling weeds for the rest of her life. When they reached the landing, the young man paused and she tried to catch her breath. She managed a “Whaaa” before he lunged towards a closing door and stepped inside. They were pressed against the wall next to the door. The class was filled with young children learning universal code. Jan swallowed her questions. She had a terrible feeling in her stomach, as if a frog were trying to jump out of it. She pulled towards the door but the young man did not release his grip on her arm. She didn't know what to do. She felt oddly naked without her eyepiece on, and the young man confused her.
She looked up at him. Most startlingly, he had no eye piece. His hair hung very long into his into his eyes at a most inefficient length. There was something silver hanging off his ear. If it weren't for his grip on her arm, she wouldn't have believed him to be real.

He was twitching oddly, cocking his head and moving his shoulders. He seemed to get slightly taller and then strode to the teacher, with Jan helplessly stumbling along behind him. He bowed his head to the teacher, who ignored him, by some miracle.
Jan noticed with horror that he was trying to interrupt her class. She moaned involuntarily at the idea of how deeply her score had sunk by these actions. Jan was surprised to hear the noise come from herself.

She reflected on the actions which could destroy her chances of teaching Ancient English. Her eyepiece broken, the conspiracy boy and the School Coordinator had seen her up on the wall planters, then missing her required class to interrupt a language class for the younger children. She guessed they were level 1 students. The interruption might decrease their scores. Jan was overwhelmed with guilt. Here she was with some conspiracy spy who was probably going to blow up the school or something. It was as if she were in a simulated excursion malfunction somehow. Perhaps it was all a simulation.

The young man coughed and said, with much effort, a greeting in the universal code. Jan realized he had been speaking in Ancient English before.
The teacher was still, remarkably, ignoring him. After a few moments pause, he turned to Jan and asked desperately, “What am I doing incorrectly? I need to get into this class.” Jan wrenched her arm and he let it go with an , “oops”. Jan started at the incoherent expression. She was missing her own class and interrupting another. She felt rising panic and fear. She would never be so disobedient, so stupid. Her small rule-breakings were all pre-planned and harmless. Her score was, generally, left intact or improved. She looked at the young man again. Though he was wearing a jumpsuit, he behaved like a grunting animalistic human of barbaric times. Jan was at once fascinated and disgusted. “What are you?”, she barked. But of course it was obvious. He must be some sort of agent sent to test the effectiveness and order of the school system, Jan thought. She just wanted to hear him admit it to her, as he had included her in his crimes.

The young man's face relaxed and he dropped his shoulders gently. Then he stuck his hand out at Jan. She reached for it, excited to experience the custom. He shook her hand and said in Ancient English, “ Paul. Can you help me get into this class? I need to improve my universal code.” Jan dropped his hand. This couldn't be a simulation. Her worried flared again about her Score and propriety.

Paul touched her shoulder and said, “Umm.” She figured that anyone who could cause so much destruction must be some sort of agent. The confusion and asking for help must all be an act to gain her assistance. But Jan wasn't so easily taken in as that. He smiled and she squinted her eyes in distaste. Jan whispered,“I'll help you do whatever secret mission you have to do, but only if you answer my questions. I don't have much to loose, thanks to you, but I'll make you pay for that later.”

She glared at him and looked at his jumpsuit to see any bulges for bombs or remote controls or something. His inability to speak universal code fluently must be a guise to gain her sympathy and trust. He had appeared without notice or ceremony. He had been talking to a government official, who had come incognito on a barge, instead of government issue speeders. Jan mulled this over as she critically analyzed the young man. Her attention was briefly caught up on the long hair and oddly balanced look of an eyepiece- free face. The bit of silver in his ear must be some sort of communicator or data-file. Immediate danger, in a classroom of small children, would not come from a data file.
Jan looked for a detonator or container of some kind hiding in the folds of his jumpsuit. She did notice a bulge, but it seemed to be the natural kind. Her face flushed briefly, which startled her, but she tried to appear intimidating. Jan remembered the actions of aggression which she had seen in old movies. She tried to imitate the action and clenched her fists and growled. The young man stepped back in surprise. Jan was thrilled as if she had gotten a bonus score. It had worked. She was triumphant for a very short time, however, because he had tripped as he stepped back and consequently fell into the teacher.

Jan gasped as she realized she would surely be incinerated for aiding the crazy and somewhat incompetent spy. Her dreams of teaching ancient cultures disappeared in the crash of the two people falling over.

Paul apologized and helped the teacher up, who seemed to be broken. She gusted out short yelps of laughter. She became severe upon standing up and stood directly in front of him, about a foot away. She didn't try to talk to him, but mimed instead. Her message was very clear. Paul giggled nervously and timidly backed into a chair at which the teacher was pointing. There was a cubicle station with a screen. He could only see the teacher if he stretched his neck, and it was impossible to see other students when sitting down.

The teacher stood waiting. Jan stepped into position for communication. The teacher leaned in a bit and noticed that Jan's eyepiece was missing. She straightened her uniform and took a deep breath. “ JAN0314772 is assigned to assist DGW3837280 re-assimilate and adjust. Returned from illness-leave. Increase his score to acceptable level in 100 days. JAN0314772 must repair eyepiece and acquire DGW3837280 eyepiece at earliest opportunity. All relevant information is accessible on eyepiece unit.” The teacher pointed to where Paul had sat. He was trying to disturb the student seated next to him. Jan walked over briskly, aware that the teacher would be recording their actions on a manual system to be scored at the end of the day. She was thinking that it could be possible that he had tricked the information on the regional database somehow. She could play along with his ploy for now and figure out his plan. She stood behind Paul and looked incredulously at his attempts to comprehend the system. It didn't seem to be an act. Jan figured she could manipulate his weakness in Universal code to her advantage, once she discovered his plan.

Paul reached back and touched her arm. “hey”, he said. Jan twitched at the touch and maneuvered herself so her face was directly in front of his. His half turned sitting position seemed to discomfort her. Paul gulped and raised his eyebrows then pointed to the screen. Jan looked at the test sheet. “What?” she asked. Paul ducked his head and tried to figure out the technology, remembering that children could use it. He wished for pencils under his breath.

Foreign script and a great deal of numbers crowed the screen. A larger, brightly colored font was in the center. Paul noticed a glass and metal straw by his screen and picked it up. It changed from purple to green when his hand touched it. He held it over the center font and peered nervously over his cubicle at the teacher, who had recommenced chattering to the class in a language he didn't fully comprehend. There were a few words and phrases he had learned and he had taken classes in universal code, but immersion was quite a different matter.

Unsure, he rolled the stick between his fingers impatiently. His screen flashed and moved to a new image, with phrases. Some bits looked familiar. His reading comprehension had been much better than listening. He glanced over at the girl he'd found in the bushes. She regarded him stoically. He turned and tried to smile, holding up the glass straw and shrugging his shoulders. The tool clicked by slight pressure from his grip. He repeated this a few times and noticed an expression of rising horror on the girl's face. He paused and glanced around. Nothing. Jan grabbed his head and pointed it towards the screen. He didn't understand. She put her hand on his face and pushed the hair above his eyes. A line of numbers was whirring in the center of the screen and a row of phrases traced in red glowed menacingly.

Paul figured he had clicked on some wrong answers. He thought it was a bit weird the girl had seemed so horrified. He leaned in to the screen and tried to remember what some of the words meant, so he could accurately answer the next question. He was about to click his tool when he felt his head jerked back. Jan positioned him to look at the ceiling, where his screen was displayed. The tool moved a green dot around the image. Jan took the tool from him and pushed him aside to type something on the screen. She placed his hands on the screen. He glanced down and she jerked his head upwards again. Paul grunted in frustration. “Look”, he whispered, “ I don't know this keyboard by memory, alright?” Jan found herself shaking her head. She really didn't understand. He must be the worst spy in modern history.

She assisted him with the very basics of universal code, explaining things as best she could in Ancient English. He knew some of the code already, a mix of the Ghoster language and calculus. Ghosters were extraterrestrials who had invaded the planet with unprecedented ease, on account of their imperceptibility to human eyes. It took some time working behind the scenes as “Ghosts” who guided key human officials and inventors before they were recognized as a powerful mass of intelligent, and difficult to perceive, entities. The population guided humans to develop many technologies for communication and improved efficiency. Relations were peaceful and the Ghosters discovered an ether-dense planet to which many migrated to in order to colonize.

The class ended before the Paul finished his lesson, and he was frustrated to see the screen go black as the door clicked open. The teacher approached and stood to his left. Jan prodded him to stand up and turned him to face the teacher appropriately. He stood and bowed his head. “I am sorry,” he said in Ancient English “ repeat?” he asked in universal code. The teacher tilted her head quizzically. She moved what looked like a black stone above his screen. She spoke in the universal code, “This has recorded DGW3837280's score for this class. DGW3837280 must improve 85% to meet the class standard. I am deducting 55 points for DGW38372800's misbehavior earlier. Additional work will be transmitted through home screen when DGW3837280 is assigned living quarters. DGW3837280 needs to get an eyepiece.” She turned to Jan and bowed her head slightly. Jan did the same.


Chapter 3

Paul picked up the duffel he had left just inside the door. Jan hadn't noticed it. As the children filed out, the whispered excited to each other and glanced nervously over their shoulders to look at Paul and Jan, who obviously didn't belong in their class. As he exited the classroom, Paul took the lead, and grabbed Jan's hand again so she was dragged behind. They settled on a bench in one of the lower courtyards. He seemed to know the layout of the school well enough, even if he couldn't get through a basic language lesson on his own.

Jan remained silent and stoic. “Look”, he said, “ What is your name? The School Coordinator said some goobledeegook but I bet you have a real name. I mean, you seem like the only person here with any humanity left”. Jan considered her strategy. It would be a good idea to pretend to play into his hands so he trusted her with details of his overall scheme. But she figured it would seem odd if she suddenly changed her mood. She asked her own question to fill the silence and give her time to think. “Why did so many people use 'Look' as an introductory clause. What does it mean? I'm not sure at what you wish me to look or why it would help me better understand your request.” Paul laughed. “ I am so relieved that you speak English. I thought you were mute for a bit there. Look, is there any food?” He glanced around. Students had abandoned the courtyard. He smelled something smoky on the air flowing down one of the halls. “Like that” he said, and tried to stand to pursue the scent. Jan tugged him back to the seat with surprising force. “you did not answer the question” she said warningly. Paul rolled his eyes and pattered on hurriedly, “Its just a turn of phrase, a synonym for examine. 'Seeing things my way' like. Sight was identified with reason and truth when people needed their eyes to prove something, and it just stuck.” He managed to escape Jan's grip but cautiously remained seated. . “You were supposed to be giving me lessons, though”, he said.

Jan reached up to her temple to save to file a video of the agent to be analyzed later. But her fingers brushed the dial button on her temple to no avail. There was no image on her screen. She was reminded again of how she nor the young man sitting next to her had eyepieces on. He didn't even have a mount on his temple. Jan felt like she was in a movie. Rather, like a character from a movie was trying and failing to adjust to her boring, regulated life.

Jan was still confused and felt exhausted by what had happened in the last few hours. Perhaps she had gone mad and her small deviations had taken over and produced an hallucination, a figment of her crazed imagination. She reached out to touch his arm. He was there. Or maybe she only thought he was there. She had an idea. If he was a dream, she might as well be enjoying it. She had shaken hands, why shouldn't she try to copy other customs from historical movies before she woke up? Jan leaned up close to his face quickly and pressed her lips against his. He jerked back and nearly fell off the bench. “Ah,” He squeaked and regained composure, “Nice to -ahem- to meet you too, but ...ah..name?” Jan turned away and brought up her knees and wrapped her arms around them, thinking. If she were crazy, her brain was tricking her into believing that this guy was real. So Jan returned to her theories of why he was at her school.

Jan decided it was time to ask some questions. She wanted to get past the charade and down to the details of his plan. “The teacher said that your name is DGW3837280.” He sighed, exasperated, “Well that isn't much of a name, is it? My real name, my... what do you people call it? My Ancient English name, is Paul. I'm sure you have one too.” He added hopefully. Jan watched him carefully. His mouth pulled up at the corners. For some reason it relaxed her and she echoed his expression. Jan waited. “Look,” Paul said after a while, “ If we are going to be working together, I need something to call you. Something normal, not your weird-ass code thing.” Jan blinked her eye in irritation. She regretted not being able to record his manner of speaking. She stood and warily extended her hand, “ you may call me Jan” she said.

Paul sighed and hopped up to stand beside her. “Well now Jan, that wasn't too hard was it? I'm glad we've been introduced. It seems we both need eyepieces. Oh. And lunch. I think that is much more essential. Where can we get some sandwiches or something?” Jan was perplexed. “Lunch is at 1200 hours” she said. Paul ducked his head and leaned forward, “Yeah. So?” Jan laughed, because she didn't really understand what he was trying to say but she did not want to show an actual weakness. “We cannot eat lunch food unless it is time for lunch break.” Paul just laughed. “Why not? Zombies gonna get us?”he responded. Jan scrunched her eyebrows, trying to understand. Paul seemed to have an inexhaustible supply of words, which he strung along a melodic and rhythmic pattern which was quite entrancing.

“Why can't you eat now? Has your mouth stopped working?” he asked. Jan smiled slightly. “No” Jan answered. “Well,” Paul continued, “Is the food locked up so we can't get it until lunch time?” “No,” Jan responded. She started thinking about it. “I suppose,” she said, “well, I suppose with an old definition of 'lunch' the vague and imperfect kind, it just means a midday meal. I suppose one could bend the interpretation of midday and have lunch at almost any time.” Paul tapped his feet on the ground, “Riiight” he agreed. “And with our eye pieces broken, we don't know the precise time, so...” his tone ended in a long upturn. It was as if he was waiting for Jan to catch up with his line of thinking. He obviously applied to some system of values more relative to ancient cultures than the efficient and strict regulations of the one he was trying to demolish. Jan would have to play along and let him think he was in control until she could gain an advantage. After a brief pause, to make Paul think she was a bit slow, Jan said, “We could have lunch right now!” Paul jumped up happily and raised his hand in front of Jan, “High Five!” he said. Jan bit her lip and lifted a trembling hand. She moved it into a high five and repeated the gesture a few times. Both of them laughed. Jan didn't particularly mind pretending to follow his lead.

Paul started walking and Jan followed. “So,” he asked, “Where does one find some food around here?” Jan stopped. Paul realized she wasn't following him and turned to face her. Jan bowed slightly to initiate conversation, though he was some feet away, “Paul, you must have an eyepiece. It is too irregular to be without one”. Jan thought that if he wanted any chance at succeeding in bringing destruction, he would have to blend in. “After lunch” he interjected. Jan frowned. “Just because we can eat lunch now does not mean that we should. Prioritize and improve efficiency. Scores increase by .34 percent when one consumes the regulated nutrition at the appropriate time.” Paul's face dropped. “you sounded a bit like a robot there with 'prioritize and improve efficiency'. I almost forgot I was marooned in this crazy place for a moment. What if,” he said, pacing, “ What if I don't want to get an eye piece? What if I want to eat lunch now because I am hungry now? Who gives a flip about scores?” He yelled hideously in frustration and pounded his fist into a wall. Jan was surprised by his anger. She walked down the path towards the tram station. There was an eyepiece repair staition on campus, but to get a new lens for Paul, they would need to go to a manufacturer's laboratory. Jan figured he would follow her. If he wanted to communicate with anyone, he'd have to get her help. She even had trouble understanding his way of talking and she was the best student of Ancient English. Jan hoped he would realize that. If he decided to wreak more havoc, at least she would no longer be involved.

Paul punched his fist into his knee. Why did he ever think he wanted this? He wanted to be part of the larger world, the modern world, but it was filled with people who didn't know how to be people. If others were as machine-minded as Jan he was sure he'd go mad. Perhaps take her idea of blowing up the school. Well, he thought, at least that is a similarity between 'them' and 'us'. Paul wasn't sure where he stood between those two categories. He hadn't been completely exiled from the commune. Paul shook himself. It hasn't even been a full day, he thought. His stomach grumbled again and he remembered the last time he ate, which only made him more hungry and homesick. He had no choice. He'd have to stay here for at least 125 days, he might as well try to make the best of it so he'd have stories to bring back.

Paul jogged after Jan and looked for her on the walkways. He had studied a few 3-D maps before coming, but he didn't know much about the customs or daily practices of the people here, like where they distributed food and how one was to acquire it. Paul growled at the thought that he didn't have any money. He almost regretted having grown up in the commune rather than the standard city sections of the planet. But he was glad to have his humanity. He thought of Jan's wooden expressions and shivered to think of growing up like that. He looked around but he couldn't see her and didn't know where she was going. He even peeped in some of the wall planters on the off chance that she hid in them regularly.

Jan turned back and walked quickly. She wondered if he'd make a battle cry, or kill someone. She thought of historical reports which speculated raging hormones and testosterone imbalances as reason for emotional misbehaviors. Back when people still believed in medicine and psychology. It was very difficult to find historical records of these mythic-based practices. The new order had removed them to prevent confusion in modern times. Jan was excited by the amount of emotion he displayed. She was amused by his obsession with lunch. Whatever he was, dream or agent, she would learn more about him when she could repair her eyepiece and access the information the teacher had said had been sent to her.

Paul was glad that the hallways were relatively free of people. Everyone had the same jumpsuits and haircuts. He wondered if he'd even be able to recognize Jan if he found her. They both heard each other's footsteps at the same time. Paul waved and smiled sheepishly. Jan laughed at the incongruity. Such an ancient gesture was out of place in a jump-suited student on her school campus. She approached and guided him to the tram station.

Jan of the Future Chapter 1

This is a bit of a rough start, but everyone needs to begin somewhere. Any comments would be most helpful. Thank you for reading Chapter one of Jan of the Future.

Jan of the Future

The first peeping rays of sun hit the solar-panels on the window and a jolting vibrator and shrill alarm startled everyone inside the house awake. The same system woke others in different housing units all around the area. The complex had solar panels arranged to catch sunlight from the appropriate directions all throughout the year. The sun measured time and partially powered the housing complex. Each unit received a share of energy proportional to its size. Small lights beside all the screens lit with the solar panel power-up. There was a screen in each room which connected to information databases, displayed the time and measured activity. During periods of inactivity, these measurements would be categorized and computed against an individual’s records of health and behavior. Some information would also be transferred to an individual’s Score, which determined their status and capability. When the alarm sounded, most everyone sat up and stepped out of their hammocks. But one girl happened to be stubborn.

“No” she mumbled to the incessant noise. It did no good and so she rolled out of her hammock. She hit the cold hard floor and muttered an extracurricular vocabulary word, “Fuck”. As described in the historical transcripts, it did, irrationally, make her feel a bit better. She smiled but was cut off from enjoyment as her eyepiece chirruped and whirred and recalculated her score. She knew that if she didn’t have a high score, she would be dismissed from the educational system and sent to sort garbage or pull weeds for her career. The eyepiece glowed and displayed a number which scrolled across the screen. Her name followed the figure and she felt a little shame as if the number really meant “Failure JAN0314772”.

She scurried up to the hygiene plate so lateness would not continue to dock her points and began to speak rapidly about the development and varied traditions of the ancient celebration of “Christmas”. After comparing some of her facts she drew dry and dull conclusions. The computer whirred as it absorbed new points to her score. She chewed the breakfast bar as the shower walls raised, which earned her efficiency points. To boost her score, she sang a few lines of “White Christmas” as a footnote to her morning essay for extra credit. The number recalibrated again. Bright blue gel filled the shower tower she was in and vibrated for thirty seconds. Then it glopped off into the drain and a steamy mist rinsed her clean.

JAN0314772 remembered how in the old days, they used this sort of technology for cleaning dirty jewelry, though most of what people wore by the time the technology had been invented had ceased to display jewels. She thought it was very interesting how words did not mean exactly what they should have- and yet the civilizations thought themselves so superior. She supposed that in a way they were, to even earlier cultures.

She donned her orange jumpsuit and stepped up to the main screen in her sleep quarters. It quizzed her on yesterday’s lessons. She did fairly well and had enough trivia about teen fiction, which she had been reading in addition to her assigned list, to increase her score substantially. Her parental units were in the common area, preparing coffee and fruit. One of the benefits of being a parental unit was a larger house, days off, and fresh, whole fruit.

The male parental unit frowned and glanced meaningfully at the main screen in that room, which was counting down in red numbers the time until the tram was coming. JAN0314772 picked up some of the sliced pineapple and started chattering about its growing conditions and the island from which it originated. Her eye unit clicked and whirred as it recorded and processed. The screen reached five and beeping accompanied the flashing numbers. JAN0314772 continued chattering, adding in questions and hardly stopping for breath. She stepped out the door and ran down the hall, which gave her more points for exercise and deducted none for recklessness as there were no others in the hall so she was unable to endanger anyone’s safety. She stepped onto the tram with a few seconds to spare and waited with a smirk as her eyepiece figured her score.
At the end of the day, her score would be compared with the scores of her Peer Relations Group to give her an idea of competition. Most of the time she excelled above them because of her unconventional methods of cheating the system and impressing it with historical cultural data. But she also occasionally messed up and the deductions in score were severe enough to undercut all her successes. Missing the tram had reduced her score so severely that she had received a warning about occupational opportunities being revoked.

JAN0314772 really desired to become a teacher of historical cultural studies. Something about the chaotic and dramatic irrationality of the past was attractive to her. There was warmth and feeling and a connection between people that she was fascinated by. At least, the idea fascinated her. She wasn’t sure that everything she read about had actually occurred. Romance was something she highly doubted. Accounts were so inconsistent and many sources claimed that they were exaggerated.
JAN0314772 stretched inside the tram, as points were docked if she did so in a classroom.

She met with her Peer Relations Group as scheduled before class. They all received points for participating in these meetings and for communicating with each other. Sleepovers were required every weekend, at alternating houses, and simulation trips were scheduled as well. The content of these trips were voted upon by each group. The other two in her group, who she referred to as Pop-Tart and Theodore, often wanted to go listen to lectures or participate in research which increased scores in their areas of interest. JAN0314772 found it all rather boring. The last trip had earned them many points, but was a lecture on the toxic content of various types of grey paint used for walkway edging. There was no conclusion but that no better paint was available in the appropriate shade so it would continue to be used. JAN0314772 had fallen asleep for most of it and had points docked anyway.

The scheduled trip was for this weekend and it was JAN’s turn to pick. She wanted to visit the city of San Francisco and take a tour of the streets, especially China Town. Pop-Tart and Theodore greeted her coldly and pointed to the main screen on the side of the educational facility. Jan glanced up momentarily but continued on, “Whatever, I was thinking that for this next trip, we should go to China Town, San Francisco. Wouldn’t that be supreme”?. She looked expectantly at her companion’s faces but she got no response. “Hey, come on. It is my turn to choose and I believe you will really like it this time. It’s just as many points as—“ She was cut off. Pop-Tart was growling. “JAN0314772. Be silent. No one receives scores for your use of ancient English. Be factual. The trip has been cancelled. Good bye.” He finished and turned away. Theodore also turned away and they both walked to their respective classrooms to wait in an orderly line outside the door for the bell to ring.

Jan looked up at the screen. Slowly words scrolled across. It took her a moment to adjust to reading modern script from thinking in ancient english. It translated to “Transport barge arriving today will use energy= insufficient power for simulated trips which were scheduled to take place in 2.8473 days”. Jan turned to the direction of her class but continued to look at the screen. Why did a transport barge use up the allotted energy? All barges had to be pre-scheduled. So was it possible that this one wasn’t pre-scheduled?

Jan ran to her class and stood in front of a person standing in line. They did not turn as customary, to communicate with her. She spoke anyways “ Why would there be an unscheduled barge? Is the system malfunctioning? Will there be a crash?”. No one answered. She repeated her inquiries, “ Well, could there be a problem with the system? Why would a barge take up energy unless it was not pre-arranged? Something is out of order! What do you think it is?” A girl third from the front the front of the line yawned involuntarily. She sighed as she realized she would have to deal with JAN0314772 today. “The only barge authorized to move without scheduling energy is a maintenance barge, class 782E. If there were any problem, the workers on the barge would fix it. The most likely situation is an update to the scheduled excursion simulator, which is why it is closed for this weekend” she said. Jan was about to argue but was cut off by a sharp click of all the doors opening for class.
Internally she wondered about the idea of “conspiracy” which Science Fiction writers had used in many of their stories. Jan was interested by the Science Fiction stories, which always made development of technology seem exciting and dangerous.Unfortunately, Jan saw the reality of progress as nothing but boring and meaningless.

Jan found it difficult to pay attention in class, so she imagined that she would later be suspended over a giant sand monster and questioned on the material. If she missed a question, she’d be dropped to her doom. Jan liked this idea much better than the reality, which was a test at the end of the period on a screen in front of her seat. The score would be added to her overall score and would determine the occupation-proficiency level of her career. It was too weak a punishment, too indirect a motivation. Her idea featured life and death, dramatic music and lighting, and perhaps a scantily clad hero shooting a gun in somewhere nearby. If she failed, she’d be dropped, and would not have to suffer a slow and inevitable demise to a lowly occupation category.

Jan missed the last question on the test. She screamed and fell out of her chair. She noticed the numbers whirring around on her eye piece, trying to measure the action as efficient or not. But Jan just lied on the ground. She felt the corners of her mouth stretch. It was a strange feeling that she often noticed while reading or reviewing historical records. No one moved to help her, they just completed their tests and sat in their chairs until the door clicked open for the end of the class period. She opened her eyes and saw the grey walls and ceiling, the orange jumpsuits, and the twitching display of her eye piece. Jan stood up and walked out of the room in an orderly line. She must have fooled herself about seeing traces of old-world emotion in others. The fictions she read and watched and the records of history must have all been fabricated. Either people had evolved away from exaggerated emotions, or they had never had any. Perhaps unhealthy and inefficient living conditions had made everyone go crazy back then.

The students stretched and jogged to raise their heartbeats and keep their muscles awake for more efficient information retention. They drank water from a line of drinking fountains and walked in line to the next class. To get the position she wanted, it seemed to make sense to be as efficient as possible. But Jan couldn’t help day dreaming. And, she argued to herself, no matter how well she did, she might still be selected as a breeder or a test subject for medicine for those occupations were selected by genetic make-up and physical health, almost irrelevant of score.

At lunch break, students walked outside in the sunshine to absorb appropriate amounts of vitamin D as they reviewed the day’s lessons on their eye pieces. They always walked in the same area, sat to eat in the same chair, and took the same amount of time to do it. This negated any outside concentration which could detract from studying. Jan, of course, wandered. She glanced at her notes occasionally, but was more concerned with experimenting with a nonsensical pastime about which she had read. Jan eyed the areas which were allowed to grow the native plants. It was more efficient and plants had been proven as good cohabitants of oxygen dwellers. Grasses grew in the middle of wall and rooftops.

Jan saw a low wall and attempted to scale it. It took her much grunting and turning around to figure out how to complete the procedure. She finally managed and crept along the concrete edging of the plant bed to a place which afforded a good view of the water on the horizon. From this perspective, the hydraulic pumps at the shore were almost out of sight. If Jan turned her head at the right angle, she didn’t see the industrial landing bay and the suspended tram tracks to her right or the many levels of blocks and grids which made up most of the housing in that area. It was perfect. Jan plucked a wide strip of green grass and examined it. She then pressed it between her palms and against her mouth and attempted to blow through it. It was quite an endeavor, with just enough hints of success to make her continue despite her failures.

A maintenance barge arrived and settled onto the docking bay just as Jan managed a hoot from her grass instrument. Jan was unaware of the arrival. Some other students looked up and noticed a group of maintenance workers step out and scurry into a building. They assumed that work or updates would be done to the scheduled excursion simulator and turned back to their studies. Jan was looking at the water and imagining living in a long-gone civilization and missed what happened next.

A government official stepped out and snapped a command. He was followed out by lanky young man in an orange jumpsuit with a smug expression on his face. Jan repeated her procedure and procured a noise again, but noticed that it did not have the bass and resounding power of her first success. She tensed and looked around, surprised to see maintenance barged and two figures on the docking bay. Jan tried to duck below and behind the grass with thoughts of conspiracy running wild in her mind. The official seemed to have finished what he was saying and the young man nodded in agreement. Jan gasped. It was behavior that she had studied. Then the official stamped his foot and started to re-enter the barge. The young man pounced suddenly and caught the older man in an embrace. After a brief moment, the two separated and the young man picked up a duffle bag. It was as if Jan had stumbled into a movie set, but there were no cameras. Aside from herself, there seemed to be no interest in a non-educational movie, so why would one be made? The maintenance workers finished filling out a localized digital screen which served as a record of the repairs, updates, and such for the building which housed the machinery for the Scheduled Excursion Simulator. Then the workers filed into the barge and departed.

Jan was interested and took the noise of departure as cover for arranging herself into a lying position among the tall grasses. She could watch through the blades of grass, but was unable to move without making noise. A school coordinator walked out onto the dock and stood in front of the young man. Jan became more afraid than curious at this point. She would surely have her score reduced for being on a planter and having left her eye piece un-repaired for more than five minutes. She was stuck though, as to move and jump down would draw attention. The young man straightened up tall and put out his hand at a right angle. Jan grew excited. Maybe this man could give her a simple explanation for the purpose of a handshake. She had studied many interpretations and reports of it.

The school coordinator stepped back involuntarily from the gesture, then stepped forward and began an overview of the rules and regulations. He handed the young man a portable screen and looked at the duffel bag for a few seconds. The young man lifted it and seemed to be explaining something. The tone of his voice shifted to the purpose of his statements. Jan inhaled sharply. He really was like someone out of the historical records.

She was surprised by an unexpected noise from her eye piece. Jan breathed the word which had made her feel slightly relived that morning. She liked how silly it seemed. “Fuck”. She was still nervous. She moaned quietly and repeated herself as she removed the eye piece to check it for what caused the freeze up,“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, bollocks, fuck, fuck, crud cakes, ahhh”. Her slew of curses was interrupted by the eyepiece, which flashed a spectrum of colors and began to scroll a message. Jan bent her head down to the eye piece to read the message. She accidentally dropped it. She cursed in whispers a bit more pleadingly as the sensation of pinpricks seized her right arm when she tried to move it to reach for the thin glass screen. Her arm twitched and the eye piece became buried in the grasses. Jan stopped breathing for a second.

The young man stood so that his face was level with the girl’s and looked through the grass. She seemed struck with horror. The young man timidly whispered, “Hello miss?”. Jan squeaked, looked in the direction of the noise, saw a face very close to hers, and rolled out of the grass. Unfortunately her panic caused her to scream and fall off the wall as well. The young man turned to the school coordinator who had followed him and smiled. “Why yes, I think this assigned peer relation group member will be quite sufficient to acclimate me to the area. No need for that re-education program”. The coordinator seemed to protest, but the young man spoke before the coordinator could form a verbal veto. “It would be more efficient”, declared the young man,” to be immersed by association rather than spend time isolated with no one to answer questions and no one for me to mimic, eh?” The coordinator coughed and tapped his eyepiece. “ I have to go sir, or I’ll be late for class” the young man said as he picked up the eye piece from the grasses and helped Jan to her feet. Then he pulled her arm and they rushed off towards the second floor of the building.