by Ramona Finn
“You could not go, you know,” he pressed. “You already have a future for yourself with your acceptance to school for biomedical engineering. If you got a job, you could get a waiver, too.”
And go against the government’s plan for all eighteen-year-olds.
If only it were that simple. As much as I hated what the kiosks represented, the pairing would show the government that I was compliant with the demands of our society. With that in mind, I generally made an effort to try the makeup, jewelry, and music which the kiosks suggested to bring up my score—and boost immunity to the virus. That didn’t mean I liked it. Though the more I let them control my actions, the higher my score got. It was an unfair payoff, but necessary.
I stepped into the line and leaned against the brick wall—even though I wanted to flee the area.
Jeremy pulled a face. “You’re going to be here forever.”
“I know,” I said, wondering if I should have jumped in line sooner rather than waiting for Jeremy to find me after school since most of the kiosks were down. A technician carrying a hard, plastic suitcase was walking around the building, most likely to diagnose the glitches at the control panel.
“Screw this,” Jeremy said, lightly squeezing my arm. “I’m out of here.”
“I’ll talk to you later.”
Jeremy rocked on his heels before walking away. He wanted me to go with him.
Over the years, we’d talked about what our lives would be like without our allowing the government to control us. But as my pairing had begun looming on the calendar, I’d started to keep my thoughts to myself. Any talk of pairings began an intense discussion between us, but I wasn’t up for it most of the time. Dad’s face flashed in my vision. He was the only family I had. I couldn’t let him down.
I cringed, thinking of a few years ago when I’d let it slip to Dad that I didn’t like how the kiosks policed my appearance and behavior. His stricken expression at my words forced me to swallow them. I hadn’t been thinking. Mom had always talked that way, and I supposed I’d figured I could, as well, once I started going to the kiosks. I never shared my feelings about the government again after that, though. At least not to him.
My brave face was the only thing keeping the glue together in our family, and I was never going to be the reason for him looking like that ever again.
I took my place in line, pressing myself against the brick wall. Every few minutes, someone would leave the kiosk and we’d move a foot or so forward. I recognized a few others from my class who exited eagerly after receiving their mods. The newest updates were all the others talked about at school, leaving Jeremy and me at the outskirts of those conversations.
The government controlled our lives, but they couldn’t stop the rebellion in my heart. That was the one thing that kept Mom at the front of my mind. As much as it had been selfish of her to leave us with only a note, I understood her. It wasn’t right to force everyone, especially teens, to submit to the latest trends to get ahead in life.
Even if it was the only way for our species to survive.
It took another fifteen minutes before the cold air rushing from the dome peppered my skin. I wrung my sweaty palms together as I stepped on the metal weighing panel on the floor. It was only there to take our vitals, but the moment signified the last time I would have to submit to the routine. I held my breath, too, thinking that might help, though all that mattered to the technology was what was inside of me.
A thought struck me, and I stood straighter as I stepped off the panel. Was my pairing in this line, too?
The mystery around the process stirred a mix of excitement and fear in me. There were two people in front of me. I glanced at the only boy in line. Since there were usually several kiosks available, I rarely paid much attention to those inside the dome as I wanted to get in and out as soon as possible. He was of pairing age. He had dark skin and was attractive with sharp, high cheekbones. My future could be standing a few feet away from me.
As much as I didn’t agree with the system of receiving the injections to change my physical appearance or boosting parts of my personality to raise my immunity score, getting paired was better than not. If it happened, I’d be an accepted part of our society. I couldn’t imagine coming to the kiosks for all these years and then getting rejected because of my immunity level. Dad would be disappointed that I hadn’t tried harder. I’d have failed him just like Mom had.
I shivered, and it wasn’t all because of Dad. The kiosks were always freezing inside.
The boy took forever at the kiosk, flipping through more of the entertainment levels of the mods. Television shows, digital superstars, and gamers were the top viewed, at least among those in my grade. I ingested the minimal amount of those types into my algorithm, both to boost my mood and my score. I leaned toward digital books versus the trendy makeup, clothing, and other products which most girls preferred.
When the boy finally left, the screen went blank.
The girl directly in front of me looked to be about fifteen. She bolted toward the docking station and clicked on the screen as she pressed the earbuds into her ears.
A brightly colored advertisement with a pretty girl turning in a slow circle with multiple colors of shadow on her eyelids appeared in front of her. The girl on the screen laughed with her “friends” and a number flashed on the screen to show how big of a boost getting this product would give someone.
Her finger darted out and pressed the screen to add the mod to her injection. Then, her information screen appeared. I turned away since her scores weren’t my business. The kiosks had barriers on either side of them to give a semblance of privacy. But since I was the only other person in the room, it was hard not to focus on what happened in front of me. I glanced over my shoulder and realized I was the only other person in the kiosk. The line across the street was gone, too. I bet their kiosks weren’t down. Time had passed quickly, and all I wanted to do was get this over with.
A chill rolled down my arms. I wished Jeremy had stayed, even if he didn’t want to test himself. I scanned the area for others. The only other people were outside passing by the station without a second look. No one hung around the kiosks unless they were waiting for their biomods. It was usually a quick errand, yet I dreaded each second inside.
Once the ImmunoAlgorithms screen flashed away, the list of applicable biomods appeared. As the girl checked the ones she wanted, a few of them grayed out. We were only allowed up to three mods a day. The girl barely flinched as she accepted her injection.
I almost wished I would have chosen my three per day regularly. Usually, I picked one. If I had worked harder in my past to boost myself with mods, maybe I wouldn’t feel so nervous about my score now. It seemed like the more entertainment value the mods had, the higher the score.
Dread pooled in my stomach. Was there enough time for me to boost my final score for the test tomorrow? I could push past what Jeremy might think and take the maximum suggestions, at least, as the girl had just done.
When she finished, she practically skipped toward the curb. I hoped, in the time she’d taken at the station, at least one other person would have come inside the dome, so I wasn’t completely alone.
No such luck.
The kiosk screen went blank again. A light within the earbuds illuminated red, waiting for me to take them. I submitted the cold and sterile pieces into my ears, and the world around me fell away as all sound disappeared from my surroundings. I expected music to come through, enticing me to smile, and boost my score.
Please get a good score. My fingernails pressed through the hem of my shirt and into my palm.
The screen went white. I waited for the levels to display before a final score showed up. A line blinked on the screen twice, but otherwise, it remained blank. Was this one broken, too? I glanced outside to see if the technician would come in to check what was happening.
I turned to the station again as an oozing red and black liquid poured out of the screen. I drew back as far as the earbuds
would allow me. It looked like ink dripping downward. I reached out to touch it until my finger smashed against the glass. It wasn’t real. Could have fooled me. The ink started to move across the screen as if there was no gravity in the area.
The ink blended into letters. I found myself moving toward the words, trying to read them. Within seconds, the message was clear.
Be Yourself. Down With Mods
A breath caught in my throat as I stared at the words. They pulsed two times before glowing brightly. Then, the screen went black, replaced with a dialogue box holding the simple text of the machine.
Unauthorized access detected. System locked. Security has been summoned. Remain in place for an interview.
I pulled the earbuds out and backed away from the station. All I’d done was come into the kiosk as requested, yet I was in trouble for this message? Down with mods? It was against everything we were taught! We were supposed to get mods to save humanity from a resurgence of Zero. Who would have put such a thing on a kiosk screen?
The security teams weren’t people to mess with, though. They wore brutalist uniforms with cold masks of indifference on their faces. And, knowing that, the term interview made my blood run cold. Any time security took a kid, he or she disappeared from school for weeks or months at a time and returned changed.
If they came back at all.
No way could I go with them. My scores hadn’t shown up on the screen, so I bet they hadn’t even had a chance to identify me before the machine glitched.
Without another glance at the screen, I fled from the kiosk without looking back.
Grab your copy of The Pairings (The Pairings Book One) at www.ramonafinn.com