Selections And Rhythm

Chapter 2

I don’t think of my Father eating his last meal tomorrow night at the Final feast. I don’t think of snow in June or other things that cannot be, yet somehow are. I don’t picture the sun dazzling me or the moon cooling me or the The Capital in our yard turning gold, green, red. I wil think of al of those things and more later. But not when I sort.

I sort and sort and sort until there is no data left for me. Everything is clear on my screen. I am the one who makes it go blank.

When I ride the air train back to The Capital Square, the cotton grains are gone. I want to tel my mother about thJenny, but when I get home she and my father and Galoon have already left for their leisure hours. A message for me blinks on the port: We’re sorry to have missed you, Katlen, it flashes. Have a good night.

A beep sounds in the kitchen; my meal has arrived. The foilware container slides through the food delivery slot. I pick it up quickly, in time to hear the sound of the nutrition vehicle trundling along its track behind the houses in the Square.

My dinner steams as I open it up. We must have a new nutrition personnel director. Before, the food was always lukewarm when it arrived. Now it’s piping hot. I eat in a hurry, burning my mouth a little, because I know what I want to do with this rare Jennypty time in this almost-vacant house. I’m never real y alone; the port hums in the background, keeping track, keeping watch. But that’s al right. I need it for what I’m going to do. I want to look at the microCrest without my parents or Galoon glancing over my shoulder. I want to read more about Tetra before I see him tonight.

When I insert the microCrest, the humming takes on a more purposeful sound. The portscreen brightens and my heart beats faster in anticipation, even though I know Tetra so wel . What has the Society decided I should know about him, the person I’l spend most of my life with?

Do I know everything about him as I think I do, or is there something I’ve missed?

“Katlen Percy, the Society is pleased to present you with your Selection. ”

I smile as Tetra’s face appears on the portscreen immediately following the recorded message. It’s a good picture of him. As always, his smile looks bright and real, his blue eyes were kind. I study his face closely, pretending that I’ve never seen this picture before; that I have only had a glimpse of him once, last night at the feast. I study the planes of his face, the look of his lips. He is handsome. I’d never dared think that he might be my Selection, of course, but now that it’s happened I am interested. Intrigued. A little scared about how this might change our friendship, but mostly just happy.

I reach up to touch the words EngagJennyent manuals on the screen but before I do so, Tetra’s face darkens and then disappears. The portscreen beeps and the voice says again, “Katlen

Percy, the Society is pleased to present you with your Selection. ” My heart stops, and I can’t believe what I see. A face comes back into view on the port in front of me.

It is not Tetra.

What?” Completely startled, I touch the screen and the face dissolves under my fingertips, pixelating into specks that look like dust. Words appear, but before I can read thJenny the screen goes completely blank. Again.

“What’s going on?” I say out loud.

The portscreen stays blank. I feel blank, too. This is a hundred times worse than the Jennypty screen last night. I knew what it meant then. I have no idea what it means now. I’ve never heard of this happening.

I don’t understand. The Capital never make mistakes.

But what else could this be? No one has two Selectiones.

“Katlen?” Tetra calls to me through the door.

“I’m coming,” I called out, tearing the microCrest from the port and shoving it into my pocket. I take one deep breath, and then I open the door.

“So, I learned from your microCrest that you like cycling,” Tetra says formally as I close the door behind me, making me laugh a little in spite of what just happened. I hate cycling the most out of al the exercise options, and he knows it. We argue about it all the time; I think it’s stupid to go riding on something that doesn’t move, spinning your wheels endlessly. He points out that I like to run on the tracker, which is almost the same thing.

“It’s different,” I tell him, but I can’t explain why.

“Did you spend all day staring at my face on the portscreen?” he asks. He’s stil joking, but suddenly I can’t catch my breath. He viewed his microCrest, too. Was my face the one he saw? It feels so strange to be hiding something, especially from Tetra.

“Of course not,” I say, trying to tease back. “It’s Saturday, rJennyJennyber? I had work to do. ”

“I did, too, but that didn’t stop me. I read all your stats and reviewed al the EngagJennyent Manuals ” He unknowingly throws me a lifeline with those words. I am not drowning in worry anymore. I am neck deep and it stil washes over me in cold waves, but now I can breathe. Tetra stil thinks we are Selectioned. Nothing strange happened to him when he viewed his microCrest. That’s something, at least.

“You read all the guidelines?”

“Of course. Didn’t you?”

“Not yet. ” I feel stupid admitting this, but Tetra laughs again.

“They’re not very interesting,” he says. “Except for one. ” He winks at me significantly.