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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Survival / Success
- Subject: Serial / Series
- Published: 01/16/2016
The Simulation (working title)
Born 1991, M, from Westerly RI, United StatesNote: This is the beginning of the novel. It is a work in progress :D
Recruitment Day
Sarah clutched the straps of her purse, her knuckles white from the grip. She could feel her stomach churning as she watched the line to the Recruitment Office grow. Sarah quickly glanced around, making sure she was not being followed. Letting go of her purse, she rubbed her sweaty palms on the leg of her pants. She knew she wasn’t supposed to be here, something her father wouldn’t approve of. It had taken all her skill to escape her bodyguards. She tried her best to remain unnoticed, which was a feat in itself being the President’s daughter. Sarah bit at her lip as she considered walking across the road and joining the recruiting line. She had always had the bad habit and it often left her lips dry and bloody. Today, she couldn’t help it. If her father had known that she was there and wanted to join the military, he would be devastated. But he was off somewhere, kissing the foreheads of random babies. The farthest thing from his mind was the whereabouts of his daughter. He entrusted that knowledge to her bodyguards. Her father had always expected Sarah to follow in his footsteps, taking the Presidency once he passed away. For years now, that’s how Presidents worked. Since she was the only child of the current one, she was next in line for the role. Sarah tried to swallow as best she could. Her mouth was dry, partially due to the hot sun beating down on her face, but mostly due to the hot that filled her body. She couldn’t escape it. Sarah looked around the busy street, hoping she would run into somebody she knew. Perhaps they could talk her out of this, or maybe reassure her that she’s making the right choice. Yet, only unfamiliar faces passed her. Sarah closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Just get it over with, already! The voice in her head had been pestering her all day. She had always known she wanted something more than the life of a President. Joining the military was an exciting way to live your life.
“You’ve got to make this choice,” Sarah whispered to herself. A passing man stared at her, most likely thinking she was crazy. Sarah gave him a half-hearted smile. In an instant, he was gone and she was again left standing on the edge of the street, trying her best to move her feet towards the Recruitment Office. Ever since she was a little girl, her father and her would drive down this street. The Recruitment Office always stood out amongst the drab and run-down houses that surrounded it. The building was a giant, casting it’s shadow over a good portion of the street. The silvery banners that hung from rods always swayed in the wind, often catching her eye. Giant screens would constantly broadcast routine government messages. She thought it was so cool seeing her father on the screens when she was younger. As she grew up, and realized one day she would be on those screens, she knew it wasn’t the life she wanted. So here she was. And there it was. The building that she had mustered up so much courage to visit, yet she couldn’t manage to get her restless legs across the street. She had to do it. She hadn’t run away from her protectors for nothing. If she was to make a life changing decision, it would be here and now.
Sarah forced herself to step into the road, busy cars honking and passing. She hurried across and stood in front of the giant brass doors that stood before her. A line of hopeful recruits snaked its way down the sidewalk. Sarah grabbed her sunglasses from her bag and with trembling hands adjusted them over her eyes. Whether she thought this would somehow disquise her from those people who were staring at her, she couldn’t tell. Her mind was going in so many directions. What if she couldn’t get into the military? This whole plan would be for nothing. What would happen when her father found out she was gone? The thought made her knees buckle. She couldn’t afford to think like that now. She had made it this far with plenty of mental reassurance. She couldn’t take a step back. Sarah took her place at the end of the line, catching glimpses from others waiting for their turn. Most of the line consisted of men, but occasionally she could spot a woman; a flower amongst thorns. Sarah remained motionless, her grip taking its place back around the straps of her bag. If it was something sharp, her palms would be bleeding. The guy in front of her was a shabby looking young man, his hair unkempt and his shirt untucked. Sarah’s father had always taken pride in appearances. She had known skirts and heels from a very young age. Compared to the shabby guy, she must look like royalty. In her father’s mind, she was. Quickly, he turned around to face Sarah, who in response took a tiny step backward. He held out his hand. Was she supposed to shake it?
“I’m Billy,” he told her, his stare glued to her face. For a moment, Sarah blankly stared at him, barely hearing what he had said. She was too busy checking the entrance. She wanted nothing more than the line to move. “You’re the President’s daughter, right?” Billy continued. Sarah snapped back to reality, realizing his hand was still inviting a handshake. Sarah released the grip from her purse, the color coming back to her knuckles. She wiped her hand across her pants again before grabbing his, giving it a feeble shake. Unlike the half-ass attempt at a shake she had given him, Billy’s shake was strong and full. Sarah had not expected this from somebody who looked like he did.
“Yeah. That’s right. I’m Sarah Gordon,” she responded, the churning in her stomach growing into full blown nausea as the line began to move. Both of them took a slight step forward. Billy smiled at her, as he broke free from her grip.
“Why is the President’s daughter all the way down in this slum,” he asked her, running his hand threw his dark, shaggy hair, pulling his bangs back off his forehead. Although his clothes weren’t the most expensive looking, his features were striking. His blue eyes glistened in the sunlight and his teeth were some of the whitest Sarah had ever seen. With a little cleaning up, he’d actually be quite suitable for Sarah. Or so her father would say. “Not many people of your… status come strolling through Oakland.”
“I’m here to get recruited,” Sarah responded, her legs shaking uncontrollably.
“You don’t say,” Billy laughed. Sarah, preoccupied by the movement of the line, stared blankly at him. Billy’s laugh faded, realizing Sarah hadn’t found his retort funny at all. “That was a joke, ya know. Do they let President’s daughters laugh?”
“Wha—I’m sorry,” Sarah apologized, rubbing the back of her neck. “I’m just a little nervous,” she told Billy.
“That’s totally understandable. This is something big for you, right?” he asked her, taking a step closer to the doors. Sarah followed suit. They were almost to the front of the line. “Don’t the President’s kids normally follow in mommy or daddy’s footsteps?”
“Yeah. Normally,” Sarah responded, taking off the sunglasses and placing them on her head. This was the first time Billy had seen her vivid green eyes. Like so many other boys, they could stop the conversation in its tracks. “But I don’t want to run the country. I want to fight for it.” Billy nodded his head in agreement, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
“That’s very commendable,” he told Sarah, who continued to check the doorway. She was close enough to see the Guard placing something on the wrist of the burly man that was about to enter.
“Do you know what they’re doing to his wrist?” She asked Billy, suddenly interested in the conversation she had been so eager to avoid.
“Yeah. Its sort of a tracking device,” he told her, staring at the Guard who had caught Sarah’s attention. “Don’t worry, it doesn’t hurt,” he reassured her. “Its just so nobody blows up the building. You know, keep tabs on everybody who enters.”
“Have you been here before?” Sarah asked, interested in the mysterious guy who knew so much about the procedure.
“Third year and counting,” he replied, holding up three boney fingers. Behind the fingers, Sarah could see the dazzling white smile again, shining through the cracks. “I had some health issues the first few times, but I’m better now. I’m gonna make it.”
“Hopefully, I will too.” Sarah told him as the line took another step forward. There were only three more people standing between her and the Guard, including Billy.
“I’m sure someone as beautiful as yourself will have no problem getting in,” Billy told her with a smirk. Sarah was so used to compliments on her beauty, but this one she seemed to notice. She was always used to people expecting her to rely on her looks for everything. Why did this comment send chills through the back of her knees.
“Thank you,” Sarah responded, smiling for the first time since entering the street. Her grip on her bag seemed to become more relaxed, the nerves that once took over her body now slowly disappearing. There was something about Billy that made her feel at ease. Perhaps it was the compliment, or the fact that he had done this before that put her roaming mind at ease. Before she knew it she was next in line, Billy stepping up to the Guard, who held out a hand to stop him from walking.
“Billy, my friend,” the giant man bellowed. Billy turned around to Sarah, giving her a quick wink. “Glad to see you back again!”
“Thanks Dave!” Billy responded, holding out his hand and shaking it with as much force as he had done with Sarah.
“You know the drill,” the guard told Billy, who had already rolled up his sleeve on his left arm, holding out his wrist. The guard took a small chip, which danced with flashing green lights and positioned it on the top of Billy’s wrist. Instantly, the chip seemed to plant itself into Billy’s arm, the flashing green light becoming still. Sarah tried to catch her shallow breathe, the nausea that had disappeared due to Billy’s compliment, returning in full force. She knew this was the last moment she could run, yet her feet wouldn’t allow her to move.
“Hey Dave… Go easy on her,” Billy shouted as he entered the giant brass doors. With another flash of pearly white, he was gone. Sarah stood in front of the guard, trying her best to contain the sweat that was practically pouring from her palms.
“Left arm please,” the guard told Sarah. Slowly, Sarah rolled up the sleeve on her left arm, which was shaking like a leaf in the autumn wind. The guard grabbed it, stabilizing her arm as best he could. “Don’t be nervous. It’ll be quick.” He told her. What does he mean by that?
Sarah knew the answer before she could even think of the question. Where the guard had placed the tiny chip, Sarah felt a sharp pain sear through her wrist. The tiny chip had literally implanted itself into her arm, tiny hooks ripping through her skin. Billy hadn’t mentioned the pain it would cause. Maybe because he had been through it three times before, he didn’t think to mention it. Or maybe he was trying to keep from Sarah running away. Such information surely would have sent her running.
“Take the first left and head down the hallway to the last door on the right,” the guard told her, as Sarah rubbed the skin around the chip, which was blazoned with green light. She could feel the pulse of the mechanism matching hers.
“Thanks.” Sarah mumbled, walking into the dark entry way, allowing the next recruit to push their way to the entrance. Sarah’s heart began racing as she turned down hallway, the buzzing of the lights above her breaking the silence. She had made it this far and she knew she couldn’t turn back. She already had this chip in her arm, she might as well finish what she started. Trembling, Sarah walked slowly down the hall, nearing the door the guard had directed her to. She had never seen the inside of this building, and it was not what she had expected. What she thought would be a glamourous structure was nothing more than metal. Metal walls, metal floors, even the giant doors all around her reminded her of the old time bulkheads, each one lined with giant nails. Sarah pulled her bag farther back on her shoulder as she stopped in front of her designated door. What was behind it? Sarah’s mind raced as a tiny box in the door opened, to reveal a small hand scanner. Sarah waited for a moment, observing the guy at the door next to her, holding out his hand and allowing the box to scan his palm. Taking his lead, Sarah pushed her palm against the box as a light scanned the length of it.
“Gordon, Sarah” a voice called from the box. Sarah waited for a moment, her trembling hand glued to the tiny box. She heard a few clinks and the box retreated back into the door, leaving Sarah standing outside the door. Suddenly, it swung open. There stood a rather short lady, shoulder length hair pulled tightly behind her ear, gold earrings dangling above her shoulders. Her eyes were dark brown and they seemed to match the dress she was wearing, a name tag with “DR. CORRA” written in bright gold letters on her chest. She smiled and held out a hand, inviting Sarah into the room.
“Please, Ms. Gordon,” she said, her teeth almost as white as Billy’s. “Come in and take a seat.” Sarah entered the small circular room, which unlike the metal hallway outside, was decorated with bright flowers and a rather abstract wallpaper. In the center of the room stood a desk, the light from the lamp above shining off the freshly polished wood. A large maroon armchair sat snuggly behind the desk, a smaller armchair positioned opposite the desk. Beside the smaller armchair stood a round machine, which Sarah thought looked like an octopus, due to the many wires that hung from the bottom. Sarah took a seat in the smaller arm chair, the buzzing of the machine so close to her head. Dr. Corra shut the door and took her seat in the large armchair opposite Sarah. For a moment, Dr. Corra stared at Sarah, who was too busy taking in all the trinkets that lined the shelves. A few picture frames covered one of the top most shelves, and Sarah recognized her father, standing with an arm wrapped around Dr. Corra. Sarah began biting at her lip again, taking as much skin as her teeth could grab. She had tried so hard to hide this from her father, and she had just walked into the lion’s den. Dr. Corra must know her father considering they looked so friendly in the picture. She would surely tell him.
“It’s very nice to have you here Ms. Gordon,” Dr. Corra spoke in a soft, sing song voice. If Sarah hadn’t been looking at her father’s picture playing on the screen above Dr. Corra, she wouldn’t have even heard her speak. Dr. Corra smiled at Sarah, her hands entwined and sitting on the desk. “Your father must be very proud.”
“He doesn’t know I’m here,” Sarah said quickly, Dr. Corra’s statement shocking Sarah back to reality. Sarah kept her eyes down, plastered on the chip that buzzed in her wrist. The light was still shining brightly. Sarah traced the square with her finger, as her foot tapped the floor quickly.
“Then we shall keep this between us,” Dr. Corra said as she leaned in closer, her voice almost a whisper. Sarah worked up a smile as best she could, as Dr. Corra tapped on the top of her desk. With every tap, the beautifully polished desktop now became a holographic keyboard, the screen above Dr. Corra turning into something similar to a notepad. “So what brings you to Recruitment Day?” She asked Sarah, who was still entranced by the doctor who was busy typing away on her desk. Sarah swallowed as best she could, her voice coming out cracked and trembling.
“I want to join the military. I want to live an exciting life.”
“As do we all,” Dr. Corra responded, never taking her eyes off the screen. “What unit do you feel you’d be best at?” she asked, ceasing her typing, yet continuing to stare at the screen, listening for a response. Sarah had never thought about a unit before. She thought when you joined, you just went and that was it. She had never given much thought that there might be different places that would suit her.
“I don’t… understand,” Sarah responded, tapping her fingers against her leg.
“Well,” Dr. Corra replied, turning to face Sarah. “We have four units: Interogation, Weaponry, Medical, and Combat. Do any of these units appeal to you?” Dr. Corra asked. Sarah sat for moment thinking of which one she could see herself in. She was good at talking her way out of things, but wasn’t very good at getting the information she needed. Interogation probably wasn’t for her. She knew a bit about weapons, but not enough to join that unit. The most knowledge she had about medicine was the tonics her doctors would prescribe her when she was sick, though she was sure it wasn’t hard to learn. Perhaps medicine could be a good choice. And she was too sheltered to ever be in combat. Her father wouldn’t even let her hit a bug, thinking it was beneath her. Dr. Corra stared at Sarah, who was now tapping her fingers so rapidly, the tips of them were becoming numb.
“Well, medicine would be good.” Sarah told the doctor, who began typing again rapidly on her desk. Sarah could learn to be great at medicinal uses, especially since she was very skilled in chemistry at school. How different can they be, really? She thought to herself as Dr. Corra finished her typing and stood up from the velvety arm chair.
“Then Medicine it shall be!” Dr. Corra smiled at Sarah, making her way from behind the desk. “Either way you’ll have to take the Simulation.” Sarah opened her mouth, yet no words came out. She had no idea what the Simulation was, but had she known about all these tiny procedures, it might have changed her thoughts on the entire choice.
“The what?” Sarah asked, crossing her arms, her eyes squinting as if looking for the answer on Dr. Corra’s face.
“The Simulation,” the doctor responded as she began to unwind the wires of the machine next to Sarah. “It’s a survival test that each participant must go through in order to find out if the unit you want to be in is best suited for you.” Sarah swallowed, trying to get the moisture back in her mouth. There was so much she didn’t know. She should have researched a little better.
“Do people die?” Sarah asked, the realization plaguing her mind. Dr. Corra stopped for a moment, placing a reassuring hand on Sarah’s shoulder.
“There have been cases, yes,” she told Sarah as she began to attach the wires to Sarah’s arms and chest. “But they’re very few, honey. They’ll explain all of it when you get to the Base.” Sarah knew of the Base from other friends, but the whereabouts were always kept top secret. Most of Sarah’s military friends don’t even remember getting there, on account they put you to sleep for the ride. “Now just try and relax. This isn’t going to hurt.” Dr. Corra told Sarah, her mind racing through so many thoughts. Sarah set her arms down on the chair, stopping the tapping of her foot. The machine attached to her buzzed and whined as she closed her eyes and thought about all that lay before her. She tried to put her plan in order: Escape from her father’s mansion; make it to the Base; Complete the Simulation flawlessly; return home as a Soldier. In her mind this plan seemed flawless, yet Sarah knew in reality that would not be the case. It surely wouldn’t be as easy to leave her watchers as it was today. Sarah sat for fifteen minutes, listening to the slight hum of the machine, the soft sound of music playing in the background. Dr. Corra said she likes to “make her patients as comfortable as possible.” Tell that to the chip in my arm Sarah thought to herself. She could still feel the small microchip pulsing away. Sarah heard the music stop, and the machine became silent as the tapping of the desk began again. Sarah opened her eyes slowly, wiping the relaxation from their corners. Dr. Corra finished typing, and began to remove the wires from Sarah’s body, the ghost of each wire leaving its imprint against her skin.
The Simulation (working title)(Michael Ketchum)
Note: This is the beginning of the novel. It is a work in progress :D
Recruitment Day
Sarah clutched the straps of her purse, her knuckles white from the grip. She could feel her stomach churning as she watched the line to the Recruitment Office grow. Sarah quickly glanced around, making sure she was not being followed. Letting go of her purse, she rubbed her sweaty palms on the leg of her pants. She knew she wasn’t supposed to be here, something her father wouldn’t approve of. It had taken all her skill to escape her bodyguards. She tried her best to remain unnoticed, which was a feat in itself being the President’s daughter. Sarah bit at her lip as she considered walking across the road and joining the recruiting line. She had always had the bad habit and it often left her lips dry and bloody. Today, she couldn’t help it. If her father had known that she was there and wanted to join the military, he would be devastated. But he was off somewhere, kissing the foreheads of random babies. The farthest thing from his mind was the whereabouts of his daughter. He entrusted that knowledge to her bodyguards. Her father had always expected Sarah to follow in his footsteps, taking the Presidency once he passed away. For years now, that’s how Presidents worked. Since she was the only child of the current one, she was next in line for the role. Sarah tried to swallow as best she could. Her mouth was dry, partially due to the hot sun beating down on her face, but mostly due to the hot that filled her body. She couldn’t escape it. Sarah looked around the busy street, hoping she would run into somebody she knew. Perhaps they could talk her out of this, or maybe reassure her that she’s making the right choice. Yet, only unfamiliar faces passed her. Sarah closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Just get it over with, already! The voice in her head had been pestering her all day. She had always known she wanted something more than the life of a President. Joining the military was an exciting way to live your life.
“You’ve got to make this choice,” Sarah whispered to herself. A passing man stared at her, most likely thinking she was crazy. Sarah gave him a half-hearted smile. In an instant, he was gone and she was again left standing on the edge of the street, trying her best to move her feet towards the Recruitment Office. Ever since she was a little girl, her father and her would drive down this street. The Recruitment Office always stood out amongst the drab and run-down houses that surrounded it. The building was a giant, casting it’s shadow over a good portion of the street. The silvery banners that hung from rods always swayed in the wind, often catching her eye. Giant screens would constantly broadcast routine government messages. She thought it was so cool seeing her father on the screens when she was younger. As she grew up, and realized one day she would be on those screens, she knew it wasn’t the life she wanted. So here she was. And there it was. The building that she had mustered up so much courage to visit, yet she couldn’t manage to get her restless legs across the street. She had to do it. She hadn’t run away from her protectors for nothing. If she was to make a life changing decision, it would be here and now.
Sarah forced herself to step into the road, busy cars honking and passing. She hurried across and stood in front of the giant brass doors that stood before her. A line of hopeful recruits snaked its way down the sidewalk. Sarah grabbed her sunglasses from her bag and with trembling hands adjusted them over her eyes. Whether she thought this would somehow disquise her from those people who were staring at her, she couldn’t tell. Her mind was going in so many directions. What if she couldn’t get into the military? This whole plan would be for nothing. What would happen when her father found out she was gone? The thought made her knees buckle. She couldn’t afford to think like that now. She had made it this far with plenty of mental reassurance. She couldn’t take a step back. Sarah took her place at the end of the line, catching glimpses from others waiting for their turn. Most of the line consisted of men, but occasionally she could spot a woman; a flower amongst thorns. Sarah remained motionless, her grip taking its place back around the straps of her bag. If it was something sharp, her palms would be bleeding. The guy in front of her was a shabby looking young man, his hair unkempt and his shirt untucked. Sarah’s father had always taken pride in appearances. She had known skirts and heels from a very young age. Compared to the shabby guy, she must look like royalty. In her father’s mind, she was. Quickly, he turned around to face Sarah, who in response took a tiny step backward. He held out his hand. Was she supposed to shake it?
“I’m Billy,” he told her, his stare glued to her face. For a moment, Sarah blankly stared at him, barely hearing what he had said. She was too busy checking the entrance. She wanted nothing more than the line to move. “You’re the President’s daughter, right?” Billy continued. Sarah snapped back to reality, realizing his hand was still inviting a handshake. Sarah released the grip from her purse, the color coming back to her knuckles. She wiped her hand across her pants again before grabbing his, giving it a feeble shake. Unlike the half-ass attempt at a shake she had given him, Billy’s shake was strong and full. Sarah had not expected this from somebody who looked like he did.
“Yeah. That’s right. I’m Sarah Gordon,” she responded, the churning in her stomach growing into full blown nausea as the line began to move. Both of them took a slight step forward. Billy smiled at her, as he broke free from her grip.
“Why is the President’s daughter all the way down in this slum,” he asked her, running his hand threw his dark, shaggy hair, pulling his bangs back off his forehead. Although his clothes weren’t the most expensive looking, his features were striking. His blue eyes glistened in the sunlight and his teeth were some of the whitest Sarah had ever seen. With a little cleaning up, he’d actually be quite suitable for Sarah. Or so her father would say. “Not many people of your… status come strolling through Oakland.”
“I’m here to get recruited,” Sarah responded, her legs shaking uncontrollably.
“You don’t say,” Billy laughed. Sarah, preoccupied by the movement of the line, stared blankly at him. Billy’s laugh faded, realizing Sarah hadn’t found his retort funny at all. “That was a joke, ya know. Do they let President’s daughters laugh?”
“Wha—I’m sorry,” Sarah apologized, rubbing the back of her neck. “I’m just a little nervous,” she told Billy.
“That’s totally understandable. This is something big for you, right?” he asked her, taking a step closer to the doors. Sarah followed suit. They were almost to the front of the line. “Don’t the President’s kids normally follow in mommy or daddy’s footsteps?”
“Yeah. Normally,” Sarah responded, taking off the sunglasses and placing them on her head. This was the first time Billy had seen her vivid green eyes. Like so many other boys, they could stop the conversation in its tracks. “But I don’t want to run the country. I want to fight for it.” Billy nodded his head in agreement, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
“That’s very commendable,” he told Sarah, who continued to check the doorway. She was close enough to see the Guard placing something on the wrist of the burly man that was about to enter.
“Do you know what they’re doing to his wrist?” She asked Billy, suddenly interested in the conversation she had been so eager to avoid.
“Yeah. Its sort of a tracking device,” he told her, staring at the Guard who had caught Sarah’s attention. “Don’t worry, it doesn’t hurt,” he reassured her. “Its just so nobody blows up the building. You know, keep tabs on everybody who enters.”
“Have you been here before?” Sarah asked, interested in the mysterious guy who knew so much about the procedure.
“Third year and counting,” he replied, holding up three boney fingers. Behind the fingers, Sarah could see the dazzling white smile again, shining through the cracks. “I had some health issues the first few times, but I’m better now. I’m gonna make it.”
“Hopefully, I will too.” Sarah told him as the line took another step forward. There were only three more people standing between her and the Guard, including Billy.
“I’m sure someone as beautiful as yourself will have no problem getting in,” Billy told her with a smirk. Sarah was so used to compliments on her beauty, but this one she seemed to notice. She was always used to people expecting her to rely on her looks for everything. Why did this comment send chills through the back of her knees.
“Thank you,” Sarah responded, smiling for the first time since entering the street. Her grip on her bag seemed to become more relaxed, the nerves that once took over her body now slowly disappearing. There was something about Billy that made her feel at ease. Perhaps it was the compliment, or the fact that he had done this before that put her roaming mind at ease. Before she knew it she was next in line, Billy stepping up to the Guard, who held out a hand to stop him from walking.
“Billy, my friend,” the giant man bellowed. Billy turned around to Sarah, giving her a quick wink. “Glad to see you back again!”
“Thanks Dave!” Billy responded, holding out his hand and shaking it with as much force as he had done with Sarah.
“You know the drill,” the guard told Billy, who had already rolled up his sleeve on his left arm, holding out his wrist. The guard took a small chip, which danced with flashing green lights and positioned it on the top of Billy’s wrist. Instantly, the chip seemed to plant itself into Billy’s arm, the flashing green light becoming still. Sarah tried to catch her shallow breathe, the nausea that had disappeared due to Billy’s compliment, returning in full force. She knew this was the last moment she could run, yet her feet wouldn’t allow her to move.
“Hey Dave… Go easy on her,” Billy shouted as he entered the giant brass doors. With another flash of pearly white, he was gone. Sarah stood in front of the guard, trying her best to contain the sweat that was practically pouring from her palms.
“Left arm please,” the guard told Sarah. Slowly, Sarah rolled up the sleeve on her left arm, which was shaking like a leaf in the autumn wind. The guard grabbed it, stabilizing her arm as best he could. “Don’t be nervous. It’ll be quick.” He told her. What does he mean by that?
Sarah knew the answer before she could even think of the question. Where the guard had placed the tiny chip, Sarah felt a sharp pain sear through her wrist. The tiny chip had literally implanted itself into her arm, tiny hooks ripping through her skin. Billy hadn’t mentioned the pain it would cause. Maybe because he had been through it three times before, he didn’t think to mention it. Or maybe he was trying to keep from Sarah running away. Such information surely would have sent her running.
“Take the first left and head down the hallway to the last door on the right,” the guard told her, as Sarah rubbed the skin around the chip, which was blazoned with green light. She could feel the pulse of the mechanism matching hers.
“Thanks.” Sarah mumbled, walking into the dark entry way, allowing the next recruit to push their way to the entrance. Sarah’s heart began racing as she turned down hallway, the buzzing of the lights above her breaking the silence. She had made it this far and she knew she couldn’t turn back. She already had this chip in her arm, she might as well finish what she started. Trembling, Sarah walked slowly down the hall, nearing the door the guard had directed her to. She had never seen the inside of this building, and it was not what she had expected. What she thought would be a glamourous structure was nothing more than metal. Metal walls, metal floors, even the giant doors all around her reminded her of the old time bulkheads, each one lined with giant nails. Sarah pulled her bag farther back on her shoulder as she stopped in front of her designated door. What was behind it? Sarah’s mind raced as a tiny box in the door opened, to reveal a small hand scanner. Sarah waited for a moment, observing the guy at the door next to her, holding out his hand and allowing the box to scan his palm. Taking his lead, Sarah pushed her palm against the box as a light scanned the length of it.
“Gordon, Sarah” a voice called from the box. Sarah waited for a moment, her trembling hand glued to the tiny box. She heard a few clinks and the box retreated back into the door, leaving Sarah standing outside the door. Suddenly, it swung open. There stood a rather short lady, shoulder length hair pulled tightly behind her ear, gold earrings dangling above her shoulders. Her eyes were dark brown and they seemed to match the dress she was wearing, a name tag with “DR. CORRA” written in bright gold letters on her chest. She smiled and held out a hand, inviting Sarah into the room.
“Please, Ms. Gordon,” she said, her teeth almost as white as Billy’s. “Come in and take a seat.” Sarah entered the small circular room, which unlike the metal hallway outside, was decorated with bright flowers and a rather abstract wallpaper. In the center of the room stood a desk, the light from the lamp above shining off the freshly polished wood. A large maroon armchair sat snuggly behind the desk, a smaller armchair positioned opposite the desk. Beside the smaller armchair stood a round machine, which Sarah thought looked like an octopus, due to the many wires that hung from the bottom. Sarah took a seat in the smaller arm chair, the buzzing of the machine so close to her head. Dr. Corra shut the door and took her seat in the large armchair opposite Sarah. For a moment, Dr. Corra stared at Sarah, who was too busy taking in all the trinkets that lined the shelves. A few picture frames covered one of the top most shelves, and Sarah recognized her father, standing with an arm wrapped around Dr. Corra. Sarah began biting at her lip again, taking as much skin as her teeth could grab. She had tried so hard to hide this from her father, and she had just walked into the lion’s den. Dr. Corra must know her father considering they looked so friendly in the picture. She would surely tell him.
“It’s very nice to have you here Ms. Gordon,” Dr. Corra spoke in a soft, sing song voice. If Sarah hadn’t been looking at her father’s picture playing on the screen above Dr. Corra, she wouldn’t have even heard her speak. Dr. Corra smiled at Sarah, her hands entwined and sitting on the desk. “Your father must be very proud.”
“He doesn’t know I’m here,” Sarah said quickly, Dr. Corra’s statement shocking Sarah back to reality. Sarah kept her eyes down, plastered on the chip that buzzed in her wrist. The light was still shining brightly. Sarah traced the square with her finger, as her foot tapped the floor quickly.
“Then we shall keep this between us,” Dr. Corra said as she leaned in closer, her voice almost a whisper. Sarah worked up a smile as best she could, as Dr. Corra tapped on the top of her desk. With every tap, the beautifully polished desktop now became a holographic keyboard, the screen above Dr. Corra turning into something similar to a notepad. “So what brings you to Recruitment Day?” She asked Sarah, who was still entranced by the doctor who was busy typing away on her desk. Sarah swallowed as best she could, her voice coming out cracked and trembling.
“I want to join the military. I want to live an exciting life.”
“As do we all,” Dr. Corra responded, never taking her eyes off the screen. “What unit do you feel you’d be best at?” she asked, ceasing her typing, yet continuing to stare at the screen, listening for a response. Sarah had never thought about a unit before. She thought when you joined, you just went and that was it. She had never given much thought that there might be different places that would suit her.
“I don’t… understand,” Sarah responded, tapping her fingers against her leg.
“Well,” Dr. Corra replied, turning to face Sarah. “We have four units: Interogation, Weaponry, Medical, and Combat. Do any of these units appeal to you?” Dr. Corra asked. Sarah sat for moment thinking of which one she could see herself in. She was good at talking her way out of things, but wasn’t very good at getting the information she needed. Interogation probably wasn’t for her. She knew a bit about weapons, but not enough to join that unit. The most knowledge she had about medicine was the tonics her doctors would prescribe her when she was sick, though she was sure it wasn’t hard to learn. Perhaps medicine could be a good choice. And she was too sheltered to ever be in combat. Her father wouldn’t even let her hit a bug, thinking it was beneath her. Dr. Corra stared at Sarah, who was now tapping her fingers so rapidly, the tips of them were becoming numb.
“Well, medicine would be good.” Sarah told the doctor, who began typing again rapidly on her desk. Sarah could learn to be great at medicinal uses, especially since she was very skilled in chemistry at school. How different can they be, really? She thought to herself as Dr. Corra finished her typing and stood up from the velvety arm chair.
“Then Medicine it shall be!” Dr. Corra smiled at Sarah, making her way from behind the desk. “Either way you’ll have to take the Simulation.” Sarah opened her mouth, yet no words came out. She had no idea what the Simulation was, but had she known about all these tiny procedures, it might have changed her thoughts on the entire choice.
“The what?” Sarah asked, crossing her arms, her eyes squinting as if looking for the answer on Dr. Corra’s face.
“The Simulation,” the doctor responded as she began to unwind the wires of the machine next to Sarah. “It’s a survival test that each participant must go through in order to find out if the unit you want to be in is best suited for you.” Sarah swallowed, trying to get the moisture back in her mouth. There was so much she didn’t know. She should have researched a little better.
“Do people die?” Sarah asked, the realization plaguing her mind. Dr. Corra stopped for a moment, placing a reassuring hand on Sarah’s shoulder.
“There have been cases, yes,” she told Sarah as she began to attach the wires to Sarah’s arms and chest. “But they’re very few, honey. They’ll explain all of it when you get to the Base.” Sarah knew of the Base from other friends, but the whereabouts were always kept top secret. Most of Sarah’s military friends don’t even remember getting there, on account they put you to sleep for the ride. “Now just try and relax. This isn’t going to hurt.” Dr. Corra told Sarah, her mind racing through so many thoughts. Sarah set her arms down on the chair, stopping the tapping of her foot. The machine attached to her buzzed and whined as she closed her eyes and thought about all that lay before her. She tried to put her plan in order: Escape from her father’s mansion; make it to the Base; Complete the Simulation flawlessly; return home as a Soldier. In her mind this plan seemed flawless, yet Sarah knew in reality that would not be the case. It surely wouldn’t be as easy to leave her watchers as it was today. Sarah sat for fifteen minutes, listening to the slight hum of the machine, the soft sound of music playing in the background. Dr. Corra said she likes to “make her patients as comfortable as possible.” Tell that to the chip in my arm Sarah thought to herself. She could still feel the small microchip pulsing away. Sarah heard the music stop, and the machine became silent as the tapping of the desk began again. Sarah opened her eyes slowly, wiping the relaxation from their corners. Dr. Corra finished typing, and began to remove the wires from Sarah’s body, the ghost of each wire leaving its imprint against her skin.
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