Introduction
I bit my bottom lip softly as I let my fingers fly over the small illuminated keyboard on my desk, I justify my answer. My eyes skim the next question, calculus notes I wrote two months ago come to mind as I answer the question.
“According to integration by parts method, ?f(x).g(x).dx is equal to:” I quickly type out the answer. f(x).?g(x).dx – ?(f?(x).?g(x).dx).dx. I scroll down using the tip of my forefinger. I waste five precious seconds, glancing up at the big, luminous timer at the front of the classroom. I have two more hours to answer twenty more questions about calculus and integration. I waste another five seconds by looking at the screen below the timer. Most students are still on the first exam of the seven while I have only twenty questions left till I’m done with exams.
I fly through the rest of the questions like there’s no tomorrow. Like I’m running out of time. I scroll quickly, my eyes dart across my desk to read the questions. I go to scroll down when my screen refuses to cooperate. I realized I’ve finished the last of my exams. I am accompanied by the familiar feeling of someone watching me. My skin crawls and my body suddenly becomes cold as I gently tap the big, green button at the end of my exam. My test results are projected on the board at the front of the classroom.
I aced my exams.
My teacher glances up at the board to see my result then she turns toward me in the back of the classroom to release a small, knowing nod. I quickly pack up my stuff, pausing to take an alcohol wipe to clean my desk. I swing my backpack onto my back and walk out of the classroom, careful not to touch anything.
The hallways are empty, but I can hear the hum from all the technology inside the building. I’ve always preferred paper books instead of online copies. The old bent pages that rustle with a musical element as it fans out the old, sophisticated book smell spreads throughout a room like a thin, invisible line.
We sanitize every book after being used to prevent diseases or illnesses from spreading. It’s the sickness season’s highest infection time in our pod, meaning a new disease has already formed and is spreading throughout the zones rapidly. The Alpha Zone is the most populated zone, but the government’s offices are located in the Alpha Zone. Meaning they get the vaccines and treatment plans before the other zones are informed of a new type of disease that starts wiping out the population swiftly. I open the double doors to the library and take a few books from the cart by the door. The book covers come to life through my NeuroPerception lenses, the covers move quickly as they portray the plot just on the cover. No need for a summary anymore, the covers demonstrate the themes to interest someone. I remove my face mask and shove it into my backpack.
“Mrs. Paige?” I call out without looking up, straightening the books in my arms.
No response.
My skin starts crawling again as the cold air of the library pierces my skin. I set the stack of books on top of a table in the middle of the big room. I look up and analyze the room, my lenses zoom in on the spots I focus on for more than a few seconds.
I start to call out the librarian’s name again. “Mrs.-”
“Hello, Ms. Alonzo.” A male voice calls from one of the back rooms in the library where we hold damaged books. A tall figure comes from the room, his hands folded neatly behind his back. His outfit is casual and laid back, messy and wrinkled more than you’d think. He walks swiftly, his feet never making a sound. His hair is ruffled, but I see where it was combed back neatly then messed up. Baggy clothing can be used as an advantage if you allow it. His build is bulky and strong. It takes years of strict workouts and dedication to build that kind of muscle. There’s this unsettling, ominous aura attached to him. My body tenses and becomes alert. The tall man notices my resistance.
“Do not be alarmed, Miss, I am here to discuss a possible career path.” His voice has a soothing element to it as he pulls out a chair to sit at one of the tables. He nods for me to take the seat next to him, but instead, I pull out a chair across the table from him. The chair farthest away from him and the closest to the bin of scissors and the double doors. I’m careful not to touch the table. The man notices how I pick a specific seat, a smirk appears quickly on his face then disappears.
The man glances toward his watch, his moves calculated and perfect. “Most of your classmates have about two hours left to finish the first exam, yet here you are. Done with seven 350 question tests at a college level in four hours. That’s very impressive, Mrs. Alonzo. I know how hard you’ve worked for the past four years. You’ve advanced to a college level so quickly. The organization I represent recognizes the work you’ve put into best you possibly can.” He takes his face covering off. His brown eyes study me, looking for some kind of information or tick.
He continues his speech. “I would like to offer you a position. I understand how this might derail your plans for the future, but you’re graduating from the top college in the zone with a Doctorate degree and with your high school diploma. A 16 year-old woman with a Doctorate and a bright future ahead of you. Your school has ordered multiple tests for you to find your IQ, your learning speed, the speed at which your mind processes things. It’s amazing to see such a young person capable of calculating math problems as fast as a calculator. That’s not including your problem solving skills. You could come up with the most complex, detailed solutions to world problems in a matter of seconds. Your abilities would be put to good use within our environment.” He says with a sophisticated tone. I keep my mood unemotional and difficult to read.
He smiles. “I’ve had the chance to see you use your smarts already. You noticed my appearance and became alert in just a matter of seconds. You refused to sit close to me, you chose to sit away from me because of the cases of sicknesses. You didn’t react to anything I was saying, your body language remained steady to act as if you were uninterested in what I was saying. You didn’t show any signs of curiosity when I mentioned my organization.” He says with an authority that no one would dare to mess with.
He stops talking, crossing his arms over his chest. I catch a quick glimpse of his hands before he realizes my attention has shifted. His hands are big and rough. They are red and he has a fresh scratch that breaks his skin. I shift my eyes back to his eye level quickly, the man doesn’t notice I looked away from his face.
“You think I notice how your attire is casual, informal. You think I pick this seat to keep distance between us because of illnesses. You think I wanted you to think my body language was steady. You think I was uninterested in your organization.” He breaks character for the first time since we met and looks confused. I smirk.
“What I was really doing was picking out the abnormalities of your outfit and presence. You don’t have a badge anywhere in sight and the school wouldn’t just let you in. Your clothing is a size to big, hiding who knows what. Your hands were hidden from my view the moment you walked out of the back room. Your hair used to be styled and the hints of comb strokes tell me something messed up your hair. A regular man wouldn’t have that body type. Your steps were graceful and silent, which takes time and training. I sat away from you, but close to the doors and the bin of scissors. My body language was steady because I was analyzing your hands. How your hands are red and raw. How you have a fresh scratch. I wasn’t focusing on your organization because I know it must be fake or something I would regret hearing about. Also, Mrs. Paige doesn’t let anyone in the back room unless you’re a staff or a student helping out in the library. So, I must ask you. Where is Mrs. Paige?” The man loses the warmth he displayed which is replaced with a cold expression.
“The fact that your personality just changed drastically doesn’t help your case. Here’s my theory. You came into this school to recruit me for some government program or something of the sort. You slipped past the lousy school security, but you didn’t expect to find the librarian because she normally assists with the exams. You took care of Mrs. Paige in the back room, causing your wrinkled clothes, messy hair, and the fresh scratch on your hand. I arrived earlier than you thought I would, putting you in a tough situation. You watched me carefully, but I was doing the same. How’s my theory?” I finish with a question. I smile at him and lean back in my chair.
The man smiles wickedly at me. “Perfect.” My smile drops. “Consider me impressed. The people I’ve been set to recruit haven’t even become close to figuring out as much as you have in such limited time. My name is Axel Hardstone and I work for an organization known as TIGER. TIGER was formed by the government to protect against rebellions and threats against government officials. We recruit and train soldiers in harsh environments so they can be prepared for whatever they may face in the field. Our operatives always work with a partner. I know that it seems like a strange idea for the government to recruit you after everything it has done to your family, but think about that as motivation and drive to make the zones safe. Our main concern is an uprising threat within the zones. A resistance without a known name, but they’ve already taken out high positioned generals and other figures ranked high within the government.” I bite my lip hard, blood fills my mouth.
“I’ve looked into your history. You’re an orphan with your sibling in a coma. You did martial arts for five years. You used to hunt with your family, so you know your way around weapons. With your smarts, you could come out of the most difficult situations.” He leans forward, resting his arms on the table. “I need an answer. Will you join TIGER? I know you will triumph and rise to become our top operative.” He asked.
I pick at my nails as my mind runs through a list of scenarios. “I have to join, Mr. Hardstone. You told me extensive amounts of evidence about this secret organization. Either I join or you’ll have to get rid of a 16-year-old college graduate.” He grins again. I take a deep breath and meet his stare.
“I’ll join TIGER.”
