The Network

by TwilightCircle

"Free of Disabilities"

“Come on, Deborah; put down the books!”

The impact of the rubber sphere shook her from her study-induced stupor. Shaking her blonde hair from her eyes, Deborah looked up from the stack of textbooks and glared at her companions. “Excuse me for being a little nervous, Grace,” she growled, hurling the soccer ball away from the patio table. The normally kind contours of her narrow face were frozen in a perpetual frown.

“Give me a break. We’ve all been through it!” Grace said. She took hold of the ball, her dark, curly locks drifting in the direction of the afternoon breeze. “If it wasn’t hard for us, it’ll be a cakewalk for you.”

The third in the party nodded. She drifted around the perfect square of Deborah’s back yard, grazing hedges with her hand. “It couldn’t be easier. You just go in, bubble in a few multiple-choice questions, and boom! You’re done.”

“You’d be wise to heed Laura’s words, young student,” Grace said, bowing her head piously as she tossed the ball away. “Her duties are the most complex of any Asset.”

“You try spending a month cleaning up puke at a middle school,” Laura said, rolling her eyes as she walked to the center of the yard. Groaning, she stroked the worry-lines cut into her forehead. “It’s not as easy as it sounds.”

Grace chuckled. “I’m sure mopping floors eight hours a day is the toughest job in the world,” she shot back.

“Would you knock it off?” Deborah begged. “You guys may have time to screw around, but I’ve got way too much to catch up on.”

Grace strode across the freshly mown lawn and looked over Deborah’s shoulder. “Quantum physics and their applications in modern society,” she read the title at the top of the multitude of books. “Are you being serious?”

"No wonder you're so scrawny," Laura called from beyond the patio's awning. "I bet the only thing you haven't studied is boys."

Grace seized Deborah's right bicep. "About the consistency of a wet noodle," she noted, her hand managing to wrap all the way around the muscle.

“Who knows what they’re going to have on the exam?” Deborah asked, shaking her arm from Grace's grip and snatching the textbook away. “You know they’re all different.”

“Yeah, different in the sense that they don’t give the same 200 questions to everyone who takes them,” Laura said as she stepped to Grace’s side. “You realize it’s all basic math and reading, right? Specialized training comes once you’re assigned.”

“You never know,” Deborah shrugged. “The last thing I want to do is flunk and end up as a janitor for the rest of my life. Er… no offense, Laura,” she said with a sheepish smile.

Laura sighed. “Don’t sweat it. I’m with Grace on this one. The best thing you can do at this point is rest up and hope the information sticks.”

“It’s not really the studying that I’m concerned about,” Deborah admitted, biting her nails as her one of her pupils drifted to the far left. “It’s these damn eyes.”

She clenched an eyelid shut and attempted to refocus her sight. Slowly but surely, the two images of her notebook and pencil reunited. “It doesn’t seem like it’s getting any better,” she said, rubbing her temples as an all too familiar headache returned. “What if I get rejected?”

“They usually have something for small stuff like that,” Grace said. “Worst case scenario, you get temporarily relocated while they treat you.”

“Come on, Deb,” Laura encouraged her. “I don’t think studying is going to help lazy-eye.”

Deborah cast a sidelong glance at the pile of untouched books. “Maybe you guys are right,” she said, slamming her notebook shut.

“Atta girl,” Grace said, clapping her on the back as she rose from her seat. “Besides, you’re going to need enough energy to plan the party.”

Deborah groaned. “The party! I knew I forgot something.”

“Better pop that notebook back open,” Laura said, drawing a patio chair from the nearby doorway. “We’ll need a guest list.”

“Guest list?” Deborah narrowed her eyes. “I thought we were going to keep it small.”

“Leave it to Deb to want a small party on her eighteenth birthday,” Grace snickered. “Come on, you’ve had small parties since you were a kid. Live a little, would you?”

“Fine,” Deborah huffed. “Jake?”

“That’s a big yes,” Laura said, snatching the notebook and jotting the name down. “Assuming Grace didn’t swallow him last time they went out for dinner.”

“Give it a rest, guys,” Deborah groaned as Grace opened her mouth to retort. “Bickering isn’t getting us anywhere.”

“Whatever,” Grace shrugged. “How about Andrew?”

Grace grimaced. “The guy who hit on me last week? Pass.”

“Well, he’s cute.”

“He’s also fourteen.”

“Oh, is Lauren still around?” Deborah cut in.

“Lauren Griswold?” Grace looked down at the flowing grass, scratching her chin. “She went to take her Exams a couple of days ago, and I haven’t seen her since. I think she might have been reloc—“

Grace coughed loudly as she noticed Deborah’s expression. “No, I don’t think she’s around,” she said meekly.

Deborah took a deep breath. “Well—”

Grace whipped a tiny, metallic rectangle from her pocket as a shrill ringing pierced the air. As she held it flat in her palm, a holographic projection of a clock burst from its surface.

“Shoot, we’re late for dinner,” Grace said. “Come on sis.” She gestured to Laura. “We’d better get home before mom throws a fit.”

Laura nodded and strode toward the door, tossing the notebook back on the outdoor table. “We’ll finish planning the party tomorrow morning, okay Deb?”

Deborah gave a nod of assent and stood from the table. “I guess I’ll see you guys later.”

“Don’t worry about the Exams, kid,” Grace winked. “If anything happens to you, I’ll swap jobs with Laura.”

“Deal,” Deborah grinned.

Grace and Laura turned to face the sliding glass door. A tiny sphere above the door blinked, shining a beam of light directly into their eyes. The sphere beeped, and the door slid back.

“Good luck, Deb!” Laura called as she and her sister strode through the house. “You’ll do great!”

“Thanks!” Deborah called after them.

The moment she heard her front door slam, Deborah groaned and threw her head against the outside of the house.

Miracles can happen, she assured herself. With a heavy sigh, she turned to the door and stepped in front of the sphere.

A beam of bright light descended over her hazel eyes, throwing her vision out of focus for the second time. Moaning, she shielded her eyes from the onslaught and crumpled to the floor with a whimper.

“Resident status confirmed,” a synthesized voice noted as the glass slid back for the second time. “Individual is qualified for superior access.

“Big comfort,” Deborah muttered, stumbling to her feet. “One day, Steve, I swear to God…”

“I’ll be looking forward to it,” the AI replied.

Deborah shook her head and stepped through the open door. As she stepped onto the pure-white carpet, lights blinked on throughout the house and the sound of central heating permeated the air.

“Welcome back, resident Deborah,” the AI voice called.

“Thanks, Steve,” Deborah said wearily.

“You’re welcome. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Yeah,” Deborah said, striding past the fireplace and recliners of her family’s living room and toward a nearby staircase. “Send a dry martini up to my room.”

“Deborah, your parents have requested—“

“Just do what I said, Steve,” she said weakly. “I don’t give a damn what my parents requested.”

“Acknowledged,” Steve said. “Your parents are scheduled to return from their date in approximately three hours. Will you require any dinner?”

Deborah clenched her stomach, wrapping her hands around the banister as the letters a, b, c, d and e swirled through her mind. “Not hungry,” she muttered, dragging herself up the steps.

“Acknowledged,” Steve stated, his synthetic voice following her through the loudspeakers strewn about the staircase. “Please note that you have received a package. I placed it on your bed for easy access.”

Deborah took a left turn at the top of the staircase, nodding as she strode to the end of the hallway. A familiar beam of blinding light descended on her eyes as she gripped the doorknob. Water streaming from tear ducts, she fought to keep her balance as the door finally popped open.

She immediately turned to her left as she entered the bedroom, whipping a martini glass from her desk. “At least you still know how to make a drink, Steve,” she said, taking a sip.

“Thank you, Deborah.”

She strode to the queen-sized bed at the far end of the room, straining to keep her eyes focused onon the book sized package lying on top. “This is it?”

“Yes.”

She shrugged, setting the glass on her nightstand and taking the package in hand. Tearing the tape back, she turned the box upside down and allowed a clear piece of plastic to slide out.

“Oh…”

She laid the plastic flat on her bedspread, stepping back as an image began to rise out of the plastic’s translucent surface.

“Identity confirmed,” a monotonous voice told her. “Deborah Clark Walters, born September 27, 2072.

“Greetings, new Asset!” the holographic figure of a stout bald man greeted her. “As we’re sure you are aware, tomorrow is your eighteenth birthday.”

“You don’t say.” Deborah rolled her eyes and removed her martini from the end table.

“As per Work Force Stability Protocol Four, Section Six, you are required to report to a local government testing facility for career testing and assignment.

“Current data indicates that you are a resident of New Anchorage, Carolina. The closest Labor Assignment Center in your area is approximately six kilometers away. You will report to the LAC at precisely eight o’clock tomorrow morning. Do you require transport?”

“No, thank you,” Deborah said, draining her martini.

“Thank you for your cooperation,” the hologram said. “The Collective looks forward to having a new, productive member of Society, provided you are free of disabilities. Best of luck!”

The holographic display blinked and faded back into its source on the bed. Deborah stood a few feet from the bed, staring unblinkingly at the plastic rectangle, her mouth ever-so-slightly ajar.

“Ma’am?” Steve said after a moment of silence.

“Set an alarm for 6:30 tomorrow, Steve,” Deborah said, passing a hand over her eyes.

“Are you alri—“

“I’ll be fine,” she said as she collapsed onto the bed. “Just set the alarm.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Deborah threw her head back onto her pillow, staring up at the ceiling as her eyes crossed.

“Help me,” she whispered as her blurred vision swirled before her. “Please help me.”

Comments

[RedvsBlue327]

From the medieval age to beyond our modern in who-da-fuq knows.

[Saxopi]

The first part was merely confusing at first, as I could not follow who's supposed to be talking or to whom. But the smooth progression from every time frame really got me hooked. All I can say is...Tracking!

[OneLonelyPickle]

Far too much talking going on. It would be alright if any of what they were saying was interesting, but it's not. Get to the good stuff already -.-

[McPoopin]

My immediate thought upon (mis)reading the first line.
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