by Rayya Deeb
"Let's go inside and get you settled."
Ellen had a nice voice. Melodic and warm like she could have been a blues singer in another life. My heart raced as I followed her through a terra-cotta red front door that was hit smack in the center of this perfectly symmetrical home. But my guard was up. I thought I’d been sent here because of all the acting out I’d been doing, and yet I was getting the red carpet treatment. It didn't add up. But until I had a reason not to make the most of what looked like a pretty sweet situation, I would.
Thirty-foot ceilings. Cotton ball-colored walls. Crisp light. Dark cherry wood floors so pristinely polished it looked like they'd never been walked on. A brass chandelier hung from the ceiling. Lights twinkled through its crystals, and just beyond it, a girl appeared at the top of the stairs.
"Jennifer, come down and meet our new guest."
I stared as a super sophisticated looking teenage girl descended from a grand staircase that wound down into the foyer. Textbook posture. Hair pulled back in a perfect French braid, impeccably fitted preppy clothes from head to toe and a striped silver silk scarf draped from her long neck. Not your typical reform school girl, I thought to myself. She slid her hand delicately down a solid wood railing that was as thick as a Boa constrictor.
"Hi. Jennifer Wallingsford. It's a pleasure to meet you." She extended her hand and waited a beat for my name. It hit me that this was the daughter of Congressman Frank Wallingsford.
"Hi." I was intimidated for the first time in longer than I could remember. "Dorothy." No idea why I said my whole first name. I never do that. Her dad was one of the most powerful men in the country, so that made her one of the most powerful daughters in the country. Actually– the entire world. I wondered what kind of trouble she’d gotten herself into to end up here.
"Doro is here from LA for a pre-orientation. We hope to have her join us this fall."
"Nice. Well, make yourself at home. I'm headed to my parents' house for dinner, but let me give you my contact info in case you need anything. Please, don't hesitate to flex me."
"Cool– great, that's cool. Thanks." I whipped my flexer out and pressed it against hers to swap contacts. Was this really happening? Her flexer was a flat, palm-sized red reflective mirror. Mine was currently set as a blue tune-plug since I’d been mellowing out to Bob Marley while waiting for the BoomJet to lift off, and hadn't morphed it since then.
Ellen was cool, calm and collected. I tried to emulate her vibe. She spoke to Jennifer with the ease of an old family friend.
"Thanks, Jennifer. Please tell your dad I'll see him first thing tomorrow to debrief him on my LA trip."
Was she using the word "debrief" in reference to me? She must have been.
Jennifer's eyes seemed sincere as they gently locked on mine before she headed out. "There are some spritzers and peaches I just put in the fridge, cacao in the pantry. Help yourself." She spoke with a confidence that was completely devoid of the notorious Capitol Hill arrogance. It completely blew me away.
I was feeling pretty darn important at this point and couldn't wait to get my hands on that cacao, though I've never heard someone my age use the term "spritzer." Just go with it, I told myself, not sure just how much cooler things could get. Man, was I in for something else.
3
THE CRICKETS AND frogs sounded like they were amplified onto loud speakers that faced my room. It helped soothe my nerves, as I lay awake in bed all that night. I couldn't get a second of shuteye, anticipating the next day's itinerary. This was all happening BoomJet fast.
One of the rules of coming on this pre-orientation trip was that I was not allowed to call anyone from back home, including my mom. I missed her and Killer so much. We had not been apart like this ever before. Julie just wasn’t going to believe any of this, but I had to wait until I went back home for a visit before I could tell them all about it.
Despite only one good hour of sleep, I was considerably wired first thing in the morning. I could hear stirring in the house, but compared to the noise of the rat race I was used to, it all sounded peaceful. Hair dryers, showers, forks clinking on plates... usual sounds in an unusual place. Still, I didn't see a soul as I peeked my head out the bedroom door. I made my way to the bathroom Ellen had shown me the night before.
An hour later I was downstairs with twelve other teenage girls. They were all dressed in blue uniforms and were totally in the groove of getting up and out the door. Jennifer was there with another girl. My gaze lingered on her for a moment. I still couldn't believe I was living in the dorm where Jennifer Wallingsford stayed. She looked just as put together as she had the night before. She turned her head in my direction and as our eyes met, I quickly looked away.
"Dorothy."
Holy crap, she remembered my name.
"How was your first night?"
"Great. Slept like a baby." I don't know why I lied. I wanted her to think I was comfortable here. I mean, I was, but people generally equate lack of sleep to anxiety and all the things that come with that. Just like my dad though, I didn't need much sleep. My mind was naturally caffeinated and it just carried my body along for the ride. Especially here in absurdly gorgeous Great Falls.
Ellen had instructed me to take the flighter bus with the rest of the girls, where I would be met by a student representative whom I would shadow for the day. I found myself moving through the front doors of the mansion with the pack of girls in blue. I was in my Nirvana tank. It was a bit chillier than tank top weather but I just had to rock it. No doubt I stood out. I hadn’t had time to wash it before I’d come on this trip, but it was sort of like my security blanket. It still smelled like coffee, too, which was both a comfort and a major tease because I needed one bad.
"Wasn't Kurt Cobain that singer who shot himself in the head?" Jennifer's friend inquired with a scowl hidden beneath a sour smirk.
I looked down at my shirt, "He was."
Jennifer's sour friend gave me a look as if it was me, not Kurt, who’d shot myself in the head– right in front of them.
"McKayla, this is Dorothy Campbell. She just got here from LA."
I didn't want to know McKayla, but if she was a friend of Jennifer Wallingsford, I wasn't going to oppose.
"LA. So, like, why don't you have a tan?"
Jennifer smiled at me as if to say, "Ignore her," without saying anything at all. So I did. It wasn't even two seconds before McKayla's attention was elsewhere, admiring another girl's motion graphic nail art. It was a deep blue lizard that flipped its red tongue out and flashed into a rose.
I got on the flighter bus with the rest of the girls and took the first empty seat I saw. The door shut and I heard the pressurizer filling. I turned to look out the window. Just as I began to admire the absurdly fresh scenery that nobody else seemed to notice, the windows glazed over in a mirrored blue hue and I was staring back at myself. I turned my focus to the flighter pilot at the front. He was wearing specialized goggles which I assumed let him see through the windshield, which now was mirrored too.
The flight was oddly disorienting. We must have made a dozen or more turns, a few U's and some circles. What was the big secret? When we landed twenty minutes later, the blue mirrors dissolved, and once again, green took center stage through the windows.
The setting was similar to that at the girls' ambassador house, only this time against a river's edge. I figured it must be the Potomac. As I stepped off the flighter bus, mesmerizing, unapologetic white water rapids grabbed my attention. Turbulent waters slammed up against the earth, spreading stones in jagged, abstract patterns. As the morning dew disappeared, the smell of thick, grassy air filled my nose and its green taste settled down through the back of my throat. My previously chapped lips suddenly felt moist and revived. This was simultaneously unreal and as real as real gets.
Once again, I followed the pack. Having prided myself in non-conformity since as far back as I could remember, I took each stride by envisioning myself as the black sheep among all the girl
s in blue. No clue where we were headed. There were no buildings or signs of life other than a few birds and a squirrel or two. I swear to god I looked up and saw an eagle, and unless my eyes were cheating me, it was bald. Another legend I'd only seen in pictures. Was this a pit stop? I’d thought we were going to a school.
The blue herd of girls stopped in a patch of fairytale grass that was encircled in a shiny, metallic gold ring that lay flush to the field. It was probably about twenty yards in diameter. I looked around, perplexed and intrigued. Jennifer Wallingsford stood with McKayla and a few others, mingling in just the way mingling happened back at my school. She caught me looking at her and waved me over.
"This doesn't look like a school,” I said.
"Don't worry, soon it will all make sense."
"If you say so." Jennifer was cool, but I wasn't going to buy into everything she said unless it made sense to me.
"Believe me, I know exactly how you feel. Even though I grew up in this area, nothing could have prepared me for this."
I heard a low hum and within seconds we were under a dome of gold aerogel that emerged from the ground and cupped us against the earth. A hydraulic system began to lower the circle of grass that we stood on. I braced myself, unsure of what was happening. Everyone else just relaxed and carried on with their conversations. This was completely normal to all of them, but it was so not-normal to me. In thirty seconds, we were grounded.
The dome disappeared and I found myself standing inside a structure filled with bustling human life. The architecture around me was phenomenal, a modern rendering of the best elements of American colonial style– just as I’d seen so far in the land above. Lots of teenagers and a few adults in form-fitting ultramarine blue uniforms filled these below-ground halls. I just stood there, taking it in. This place didn't seem like any kind of school, especially not a reform school. There was a galactic grandeur in the air that no school could generate.
"Dorothy Campbell." I turned to see a kid my age, smiling and extending his hand. I scanned him without moving my eyes– thin, shaggy head of dark brown hair, big brown puppy dog eyes, half-tucked shirt, braces, friendship bracelets. Friendship bracelets. I breathed a sigh of relief in finding a shred of something– someone I could relate to. I smiled back.
"Welcome to Seneca. I'm Timmy Reba, your personal student escort for pre-orientation."
And so, there it was– they called it Seneca.
"They told me I'm your shadow for the day."
"Please. Friends call me Reba. It's my last name. Mi padre es Puertorriqueno."
Reba rolled his R's with gusto. Electricity surged out of this kid's pores as if kinetic energy was harvested and redistributed through his braces. Considering where I was, maybe it was.
"I'm sure you're a little disoriented."
A little? How was this normal to all these people?
"Don't worry, you'll be up to speed in no time. Campbella. Is it okay if I call you that? It really works for you."
"Sure."
Reba waved his hand for me to follow him. "First things first, let's get you your blues."
4
NOW I, TOO, was wearing blue. Although borderline conservative, there was a sexiness in this getup. I imagined that an air of slick sophistication blew through me. I pinched the sharp collar, ran my fingers down six smooth pyrite buttons to my waistline, which, after loose-fitting cotton t-shirts, had never felt so exposed as it did right now. I decided to own it. I could be a new person here. I could absolutely flex this outfit. And before I looked up, I glanced down at my beloved sneakers with a grin. This blue uniform thing wasn’t so bad after all. I didn't feel like a sheep or member of some Floridian mega-cult, I felt like an astronaut, exploring the unknown. Except these unknowns were not in outer space, they were right here below the surface of the Earth. I wondered how far down we were.
This kid Reba was on fire, I'd never met someone with so much energy. He'd get along well with Killer, I thought, as he lead me down the hall with a pep in his step. He was so excited when he spoke that his words all blended together and he barely took a breath. "I remember my first day here– all tingly with excitement and wide-eyed as I took it all in. Amendment. I'm still wide-eyed and taking it all in and it's been two years."
Now I wanted to hear everything, see everything and do everything I could at Seneca. It was the future. I was in the future. Talk about a self-fulfilling prophecy.
"Welcome to the future." He smiled.
What the heck? Was this kid reading my mind? He winked, then turned back to watch where he was going, almost knocking over a kid who had built-on robotic arms.
"My mistake, Yoshi."
Yoshi's left arm slammed into the glistening golden wall, sending a smooth ripple all the way down. The wall morphed right back to normal, not unlike the materials our flexers were made of– a sort of programmable metallic polymer. I wondered if these walls could be commanded into functions other than just dividing spaces, like I could command my flexer to form a cup, harvest rain and purify it to drink, or illuminate an entire room with any color.
Yoshi grunted at Reba, who stepped aside in awe. This Yoshi kid was so small he'd pass for a child ineligible for rides at the amusement park, but he clearly had larger-than-life capabilities that Reba was majorly impressed by. Yoshi continued on, glaring back at Reba, who just offered up a smile.
"Yoshi Higashi. What I'd do to be him for a day."
My interest was piqued. I mean seriously– kids with robotic arms?
"Come on, first session starts in three minutes, and they've got you booked in mathematic applications. Sick session. Wish I could qualify, but they got me searching out mock cadavers in the Aboves."
I had no clue what that meant, and judging by Reba's reaction, he could tell.
"Don't ask."
I didn't. I just followed, ready to devour this landscape. The halls were completely golden, some brick and some smooth, but all golden. I noticed several of the walls morphing into objects. First I saw a guy approach a wall and it morphed into a water fountain. The water moved with him to meet his mouth. At the water fountain back in my school in LA, we had to press a button and bend to the water. The thing had been around since the 1980's. I wanted to see more and more. What else could these walls do, and what was behind them?
And then, my world about stood still, for the first time in my life, in the most unlikely of places and times for stillness to occur. A doorway appeared on one of the walls, and from it, emerged a guy about six foot tall, my age, buzz cut, pale skin tone just like me and rocking dark blue combat boots. Our eyes met like magnets– he had one blue and one hazel. I swear to god, if love at first sight existed, this was it. I was rendered a believer in one single instant. In that moment I felt like I knew him. Or at least I wanted to know him. Those lines were happily blurred.
"Campbella? You coming?" Reba was ten steps ahead of me, looking back. He saw who I was scoping out and I could tell it made him a little bummed, but he tried to hide it.
"Yes, sorry, this is all just so..."
"I know. It's new, exciting, different, etcetera, etcetera... but don't lose focus. It's easy to lose focus here."
No kidding. "No way. I'm totally focused."
As I followed Reba down the hall, I looked back over my shoulder. Blue combat boots was gone. The farther away I got from him, the closer I wanted to be. I had to find out who he was, where he was from, why he was here.
5
QUANTUM PHYSICS APPLICATIONS, mathematics in epidemiology, quantum computing freestyle, Seneca civics and ethics, and last, but not least, mathematics in religion. Yes indeed, my schedule was a mind rush. I learned that there was no such thing as paper in Seneca. They only used a stone paper that was made from a calcium carbonate quarried in Virginia and other places in the world too. Absolutely everything is either sustainable, compostable or can be safely reduced to components that create energy. Human waste for example. When we use the toilet it flushes into a "poo-re
new" system, as the S.E.R.C. Scholars joke, that breaks it down in skyscraper-sized drums alongside each Seneca City center. The ecosystem within this subterranean city is a dream come true to every hippie in the history of the world.
How could I ever go back to Los Angeles Public School? I couldn't. My dad would have been all over this situation. Man, did I wish I could share this with him. This was exactly where I needed to be. One second I think I'm headed to reform school to pay for my crimes, the next I'm in Disneyland for tech junkies. I mean, let's get real for a second, though. It had definitely entered that "too good to be true" zone. Something was up. I just didn't know what. Yet. Yeah, I wanted to know, but part of me didn't. I felt like a kid in a candy shop. I couldn't resist the sugar, wasn't so concerned about what came next. This place didn't even have grades. It was all performance and incentive based: do well and you were rewarded with awesome mini-adventures. Do bad, repeat the session via tablet until you get it right. If you don't get it right, you don't leave the session. Everyone got everything right, eventually. I quickly learned that that's just the pedigree of the Seneca population. I was flattered that I was considered to be on that level.
Reba picked me up after my last session. "And how would you rate your visit to the future thus far, Lady Campbella?"
He didn't just have pep in his step; it was in his vocab too. And his shaggy hair had an air of happiness too, as it sashayed back and forth. Reba was growing on me, and I had a feeling that we were going to be good friends. Then I started to think about Julie. I'd be so far away from her. We wouldn't get to hang out every single day like we had for so many years. Maybe I would get the hook up so she could come visit via BoomJet on the weekends. Could dogs stay in the ambassadors' house or would I have to leave Killer behind with my mom? There were a lot of unanswered questions, but no matter what, I knew that nothing would ever be the same. It couldn't be.