Exile

PROLOGUE-3

“Yes, that’s correct. Our social mother insisted that we learn as much as possible. She claimed that in this way we would gain better life prospects. However, I’ve never worked in this profession before.”

“I have no doubts that you’ll manage either way...”

Sandra entered the office, carrying two cups of steaming caffetino, one of which she placed in front of me.

“Would you like some sugar or a sweetener?” she said without a shadow of resentment. She had amazing class, I don’t know whether, being in her place, I would be able to be so kind to someone lower, not even by a layer, but a whole social level.

“No, thank you. Thank you very much,” I replied, trying to make it known that I knew my place and wouldn’t dare claim the right to such kindness towards my person. The secretary smiled slightly and left, and the door closed quietly behind her.

I took a sip with pleasure, because my lips were completely dried from emotions. The caffetino was delicious, much better quality than what I bought every day at the Fiona supermarket.

“As a librarian, it will be your responsibility to keep order in the database, assign numbers to new files, classify them properly, and help students find the literature they need,” Brotsky summed up, taking a sip from his cup. “I hope you understand that giving someone access to our database is an expression of trust on the part of the university, especially since part of the library are antique books, printed on paper. They have great value. We expect responsibility and diligence in carrying out your tasks, as well as... discretion.”

“Discretion?”

“Yes, Miss Kaphoolie. Our university is attended almost exclusively by representatives of class A, although sometimes there are extremely talented B1 students. From what I remember there were even two future medics from class C here, picked up by the investigators from the offices of IQ Investigation. Have you ever come across the IQI’s activities?”

“Yes. My social brother was selected by them for the national test. He has a chance to study at the polytechnic, if he obtains the highest score...” with some difficulty, I suppressed the string of sentences that suddenly came over me. After all, my interlocutor didn’t care about Chris or the private life of his employees.

“Exactly,” he continued. “In that case, you must be aware that you will come across different kinds of people. You must never favor anyone, even if you happen to like them very much. The guardian of our library’s records must follow the protocol no matter what. You cannot befriend the students. This is not discrimination,” he added hastily. “This prohibition applies to all teaching staff and all employees of our Academy, even myself. There are other rules you must follow. For example, we must not allow someone from a lower grade to have an insight into the textbooks of higher courses. Also, no one from outside the university is allowed to use our collections – you will have to check the student’s identity each time before granting access to the material. Either way, you will receive a detailed list of responsibilities and recommendations.”

“Does this mean that I have the job?” I asked incredulously. The rector smiled.

“Of course. You are our best candidate. You can start at the beginning of next week. There will be some time left to prepare an accurate list of what is needed to set up the greenhouse, and we will prepare the appropriate contract. To start with, you'll get a thousand allocation points for each job.”

“In other words, two thousand a month for both jobs?” I asked, opening my eyes wide. I wasn’t hoping for anything more than a thousand, a thousand and two hundredths at best...

“For a start. After that there will be discretionary bonus and other extras. Why are you surprised? Our people must be properly rewarded, there is no other way.”

I left the rector’s office completely stunned. This job seemed like some sort of gift of capricious fortune and I wanted to pinch myself properly to see if I was dreaming. Sitting at her computer, Sandra looked at me and gave me a friendly smile.

“Is everything all right?” she asked.

“Yes, I was accepted,” I answered. “I’m so happy. Thank you for the caffetino and I’m sorry for the trouble.”

“Not a problem. I’m glad that you’ll be working here. It will be nice to have a colleague of my age.”

“How is that?” now I was completely cemented to the ground.

“Well, medical veterans are the ones who usually work here, in their sixties or better. I hope we will be good friends. It’s boring eating lunch alone.”

“But of course, if you don’t mind...”

It was difficult to believe that this elegant lady would really offer me friendship. So far, I’ve only seen women like her on photos or on the television. I left the Academy building with cotton-soft legs, deeply confused by all that happened to me today, but even happier. I did it. I got the job.

***

I can’t remember what exactly happened, and I don’t think I want to remember. I felt like my eyes were shining much more than usual, but it may have been an illusion. I think it was this glow – although it could just be a matter of my imagination – or maybe even the realization that I have somebody else’s hair on my head was causing me to examine the whole matter, find out who is behind it and what they want from me. With this resolution, I twisted the key and the Suzuki moved swiftly forward.

I have never sat behind the wheel of such a work of art. It reacted to my every movement as if it was an extension of my hands – it must have the latest the latest generation sensors built-in and you could definitely set it for voice control, but I don’t have time to play around with that yet, I don’t know how yet anyway. Somewhere in the car there was probably a navigation computer instruction manual. I decided to look for it a better time, but for now I have to reach the hotel and see whether this secret protector won’t be there waiting for me, whoever they are.

I only know one thing about them so far, that they are very rich and influential. Money alone would not give them access to one of the exclusive EPIPHANICS centers and they wouldn’t allow for a remote procedure to be carried out without its entire administrative layer. I mean, no one was writing down my data, I also didn’t sign anything, no documents were requested from me – all of this came to my realization slowly and reluctantly, convincing me that it will best to explain all of it. An escape wouldn’t solve anything, since someone who has this much influence would find me anyway. Who could it be? Someone from the government? From the secret police? Or maybe one of those anonymous rich people who manage the world’s economy?

Yes, that’s the most likely scenario. I wonder who exactly... These days, after crossing a certain income threshold a person becomes invisible to the rest of society, nobody knows the names or faces of those who live in the true luxury. You can’t write about them, you can’t talk about them, but they exist, and one of them paid for what saved my life.

My life up to this point was different. I’ve always been aware of the fact that I belong to a class of workers, not decision makers, but I didn’t have to hide anything. I could do what I wanted, live in a house without protection, and openly bear my name. As a little girl, I’ve never even seen children from A classes, let alone play with them, as a teenager I finished school in the company of class B youth.

B1 often went to college, one of them even urged me to try to pass the initial test – I was remembering him now, a frail boy with a crooked nose, I think that he had a little crush on me. He claimed that I could make it in college that I could apply for a promissory note or even a scholarship but I never believed that it could work. My social mother also advised me against it, she claimed that there was no point in banging my head against the wall when there were so many good professions which would provide me with a livelihood. B3 was, after all, a fairly low civic category. My poor social mother... she wanted me to become a nurse, but I couldn’t stand the sight of blood. I fainted even when I just cut my finger and I avoided places where there were fights. And it was me who must have experienced something terrifying... but I still can’t remember what it was.

***

The new job turned out to be very absorbing. Most of all, it required a rather long drive by the public car, and thus, getting up early. I had to create the greenhouse practically from scratch, because what the technical department ordered was not suitable for the purposes set by the management of the Academy. For the first few days I didn’t even go out for lunch, but after two weeks, when I dealt with all the most important issues, I allowed Sandra to persuade me for a meal.

Near the university there were several eateries with different standards. To my surprise, the rector’s secretary was dining at the humblest of them all, called At Barney’s.

“I don’t earn much,” she explained, “it’s cheap here, and I like what they serve. My parents weren’t rich and taught me how to economically manage what I have.”

The At Barney’s menu mainly consisted of substitutes, but it also included such delicacies as baked macaroni and cheese, rice balls with fruit, and even real wine. Of course, these dishes exceeded our financial capabilities, but we agreed that one day we would take something from the ‘higher-shelf’ and split the bill. For now, we ate what other regulars had and I had to admit that the chefs in this restaurant knew what they were doing. Someone who can conjure up such tasty dishes from meat and vegetable substitutes must be a genius.

Sandra turned out to be a cheerful and friendly girl, younger than I thought – barely twenty years old. At first, I was intimidated by the fact that she was an A3, but with time I stopped thinking about it and simply began to like her. When I left for the library after lunch, she often came there after work and we often returned together.

“I kept telling you, stop treating A-class citizens like demigods,” Chris said rebuking when I told him about my new friendship. “They are people just like us, only that they have slightly higher synaptic density in the brains.”

My brother was rebellious from an early age and as he grew older he was constantly looking for a way to break out of his social class. He dreamed of going to a university, and not just any of them. His ambition was space engineering, it was the only thing he talked about and bought used textbooks, eagerly exploring them later at night, which I honestly didn’t understand.

“Because you don’t have any higher aspirations beyond those plants of yours,” he answered my questions with supremacy and returned to the books, stored in the memory of the best e-book reader he could get his hands on.

One day, around two months after I began working at the Academy, Chris returned home in a state of such excitement that at the sight of him I dropped my cup with juice. Not paying attention to anything else, he embraced me and danced with me wildly in the middle of our apartment.

“I did it! I got the highest amount of points!” he shouted. “I will get the index, dear sister!”