Chapter 4 #3
“Stupid answer. Everyone says that.”
“That’s why I deserve to come to The Commons… I mean that’s why I’m here. I belong here. I am just as smart as every elite person who gets the honor of being accepted.”
“You’re not.”
My mouth is open, contemplating what to respond. But I am truly speechless.
“Your history is not consistent with those who attend here. You only began preparations mere months ago. People start preparing to come here before they’re born.”
Before they are born? I nearly choke on his own words.
I suppose he’s right, probably generations of preconditioning.
Nevertheless, I straighten my posture, trying to stay composed and deflect his rebuttal.
I try again with another attempt. “It’s just, I wanted to see what it would be like.
It’s a magical experience I…” I stutter. Why am I stuttering?
“It’s not magic, it’s science,” he responds, bland.
I pull myself together and assert, “Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. Arthur C. Clarke’s Third Law.”
He stares at me, almost impressed… No? He might actually be yawning in his head. Not that I would know, not like I can read his mind, but I digress—
“Tell me, on a personal level, why are you here?”
I clear my throat, looking up with the full arsenal of my passion. “Honestly, I am obsessed with Satri DeVeechi’s philosophy. I agree that people must be trained to think alike. A difference of opinion is the main reason for every war that has ever been fought.”
His eyes spark. “And how do you think you can fit into that system?”
“Simply by being human. Humans are common by design. Satri DeVeechi’s utopia is really not a utopia.
It’s more of a much-needed awakening for our society.
And look how much better we have done for the last hundred years since The Commons came into power, there has been no world wars, thanks to this great system.
It was Thomas Paine who said, common sense is not so common—”
“Actually, it was Voltaire.”
“And that’s my point, Paine or Voltaire?
Whose self-interest really matters, as long as everyone gets the information they need.
Whoever the credit goes to is irrelevant.
The credit really goes to the system that made sure no one could rebel against the concept itself in a way that would cause division. ”
He smiles. But not in a satisfied way. He scoffs. Now he’s full on laughing at me. Why is he laughing at me? Was I really that unconvincing?
“Is that why you decided to rebel on the first day of class?” he asks with a smirk, looking me straight in the eye. How did I try to rebel?
I open my mouth to defend myself, but I have a feeling that saying any more words will incriminate me. So, I shut my lips. I remember why I’m here.
Since I cannot ever approach him or ask him questions outside of being summoned, this may be my only chance.
I sit still, contemplating how best to force myself to apologize to this contemptuous being.
But I can’t think of anything. What if he gets bored of me sitting in silence? Or even worse, commands me to leave?
He turns away, typing on his digital tablet. I catch a glimpse of my name on his screen. That can’t be good.
I open my mouth and words just pop out. “I’m sorry for breaking the rule when I stared at y…” your fingers? “Um… you this morning.” I cough it out.
I see him raise his chin, and his hands stop typing.
Nervous, I rub my fingers against my palm, desperately hoping he will respond favorably.
He does not turn, but he begins to speak. “You only have two strikes left before you’re out.”
Without thinking, I blurt, “What do you mean out?”
“Out of my mind as someone who I could ever consider offering respect.”
“I didn’t know Patrons even offered anyone else respect.”
He turns slowly, eyeing me, arms folded. “Stand up.”
What the… my feet rise up, drawing back, fear sprinting through my insides. He rises up, striking a drumming thud to my chest, walking toward me.
He stops, close. “Do you know how Patrons punish students?” His breath lingers on my skin.
“I… u…” I stutter as my eyes hit the ground. My mind runs wild to remember… Commons Binder Rule 27… whatever they deem ap—
“Whatever we deem appropriate.” His voice sinks into my chest. “Now do you want to know what I deem appropriate?”
I shake my head immediately. “No.”
“No. That’s what I thought. So, get to your point.” He steps away from me to my grave relief. He relaxes against a wall, his eyes tracing me.
My lips dare to ask him what I really need to know. “I notice there are no tests to measure if a student can take a class outside the country or study abroad. I was wondering if that’s a major available to me, say I wanted to take it?”
“Your wants are irrelevant. We place you where we want. Which is where you need to be.”
“Do you agree with that?”
“Are… you… testing… me?” he says, like I’m so below him, I shouldn’t even be standing here, let alone challenging him.
“I am… um… intrigued by your common… convictions,” I stutter, trying to read him, to see if I can push a button that will cause him to open up or lash out and tell me the truth. But he does neither.
“Do you want another demerit?” He edges up on me.
My heart drops, but I stamp my feet down to stop myself from drawing back in fear as he speaks.
“No one knows about the study abroad, that is unless they know. So, if they know that you’re trying to know, you will never be in the know.”
He just said a scary sentence. I take a deep breath, confused, puzzled. But then I realize that he might have just opened up to me a little, so I push even further. It seems to me he is not challenged by my confrontation, so I go right in for his heart. “Do you have a family?”
“This conversation has expired.” He turns away and continues typing.
“If you had a family or a sister or a mom who you wanted so bad to find or know, but she was unavailable forever, would you try to know them or would you just keep living life without them?”
“Are you challenging me with an ethical question? Or a moral one?”
“A human one.”
“The only challenge you need to concentrate on is the Cognitive Test. Impress me there, and I’ll act like I actually listened to anything you just said.”
“How do I prepar—”
“Enough! Depart before I blink.”
I catch my breath. Raise my chin. “Good day, Patron Pesh.”
I step outside the circular door, instantly worried.
He said that if they found out I was trying to be in the know, they would make sure I was not. Who’s they? I think that he said they, it means he is not included. Which could mean that he might not agree with everything they are doing.
He in fact did answer my question, didn’t he? Levon’s program is not one of the official programs of study at The Commons. That could only mean one thing—Levon is in danger! Oh God, so am I!
Or is Levon really in a position of secrecy? Then how can I find out about her? The only way is for me to be in a secret career, too. I figure that’s my next link to Levon’s whereabouts. I have to conquer the Cognitive Test.
But what if the Cognitive Test reveals why I’m really here?
What if it can read my mind completely? I have basically lied my way through the entire interview process in order to make it this far.
I could “talk the talk” because no lie detector test was monitoring my brain activity.
But now I have to literally control my brain to lie.
While I’m unconscious. How on earth am I supposed to do that?