Heightened: The Federation Series

by Miria Masdan

  “Don’t talk like this in front of them,” I gesture towards the boys. “Don’t fill their heads with your paranoia.”

  “Fine, you don’t have to believe me,” she says. “But I warned you.”

  I look back at the house. I see my father looking out of the window. He looks at me with a frown on his face. Maybe Pam did know something that I didn’t. Now my guilt is replaced with worry. It’s not how I had expected to start the first day of my adulthood.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Emma

  The shuttle cuts through the air with a low hiss. It stops at the end of our drive. I place my hand on the scanner. It transmits my schedule to my receptor, and I close my eyes. There’s a miniscule tingle at first, but I hardly notice it and then it intensifies. I want to pull my hand away, but I don’t want to draw attention to myself. It hurts, which has never happened before, and then it stops. I hear my identification.

  “Emma Greene, Agricultural, 51104E,” the voice on the machine is female, but I’m not sure if it’s an actual person or just a generated voice. I find the thought odd. I know the voice is part of the Federation program, but I wonder. I’ve never been outside of Eleven, and I have never met any of the people in the program images. Are they real? Before the Federation, people were responsible for many tasks that are now accomplished by machines and computers.

  I sit in my assigned seat, my back to the window, facing inward, but I don’t look at anyone. I think about what Pam said, about the dead zone, and what my father did, but I can make any sense of any of the situations. I also think about him; why did I imagine him in my orchard? Again, I over think and worry... I always do. My hand still hurts. I turn it over and look at my palm. It appears to be normal. I rub it, but it doesn’t help.

  The shuttle hovers for a moment and then cruises above the road at the approved altitude, which is just above the tree tops. There are 12 more stops before we arrive at the POE building. I catch my sister staring at me. She purses her lips and squints causing a bunch of skin to form on the bridge of her nose. I shake my head and look away. But I can’t help but wondering what has gotten into her. Her behavior this morning is strange. She’s only 16 and usually concerned with her activities and her friends. It was almost like someone had told her what to say. Then I wonder if her hand hurts too. I look at her. She’s turned sideways and looking out of the window. She’s not paying any particular attention to her hand. I look around, no one is, not even the other graduates.

  I let my mind wander. The pain is starting to fade, and I close my eyes. I think about him again. I can see his eyes and I try and concentrate on his face, but I can’t envision it. I smile; I can’t help myself. The low hum and soft rocking of the shuttle are soothing. I imagine him kissing my lips. We’re not under my tree; we’re lying in the tall grass by the lake on the far edge of the farm. I can feel his touch; a gentle caress across my shoulder, down my neck and above my heart. I fall asleep. My dream changes; I’m alone. Night has fallen, and I can hear the peepers and see the fireflies. There are so many of them that it looks like the stars have drifted down from the heavens. I turn to look at him, but he is gone. I sit up and search for him. I can’t find him. I look towards the woods that lead to the South road and the Defense outpost. I see him enter the tree line. I call out to him. He stops. He’s looking directly at me. He shakes his head and closes his eyes. I hear a snap from behind me. I turn and see an officer. His raises his gun, and I hear the shot. I turn to look back at him. It is dark.

  I jolt into a straight sitting position, almost falling completely forward. I grasp the edge of the seat with my hands to steady myself. I look around, confused. I’m still on the shuttle. My heart is racing, and I can’t catch my breath. I inhale slowly and lean back. I touch my lips. They are warm. I can still feel his mouth against mine. I’ve never had the nightmare during the day, or so close together.

  “It was only a dream,”

  My hands are shaking. It was so real. I look around the shuttle and then access my visual clock, “that’s odd.” The seat next to me is empty. Usually, there is a girl from Defense sitting beside me.

  A low murmur erupts throughout the shuttle. We don’t descend for the next stop. I look out the window, and I can see smoke in the distance. It’s the same for the next four stops, all Defense students. We make it to the POE early, and without six of our students.

  We descend and the doors to the shuttle open. I wait my turn and then calmly exit the shuttle. As I step off I, notice another set of eyes upon me; my classmate Sean. I wonder if he’s thinking about tonight. We have been friends since the first day of elementary education. We are alphabetically sequenced; my last name is Greene and his last name it, Greer. We don’t ride the same shuttle because his family works in Education and lives in our community city. Each, territory, has four community cities; each representing the north, west, south and east demographic areas of the territory. We are in the East City of the eleventh territory. Each city is a dependent government, dictated by the Federation Council. But each city is responsible for one-fourth of the necessary provisions for their territory. There is no inter-territory commerce. Only select individuals are allowed to travel to different territories. It is one of the laws that were created to contain diseases.

  Sean is still looking at me.

  My eyes meet his and linger for a moment before I look away. We aren’t supposed to exchange eye contact in public. We are to maintain order and follow the laws. But when we enter private areas, like the educational building, we are allowed to relax and socialize in an appropriate manner. By appropriate, I mean no touching, no standing too close, no personal information exchanged. We bend the rules, but not enough to get into trouble. Tonight will be either amazing or a complete mess. Sean is my obvious choice for an emotional connection tonight, but there’s something about him lately that makes me uneasy. He acts awkward and avoids any of our usual conversations. It’s almost like he is hiding something from me.

  Only married individuals are allowed to be intimate with their information, but physical contact is limited to predetermined special occasions. Children are created by design, in a medical procedure that results in a viable offspring using each parents DNA, citizens are rendered incapable of reproduction in the conception procedure. A hospital incubator is used to bring a fetus to full term. But on the night of the heightening, the citizens can express themselves physically without fear of the law. Not everyone decides to be physical, but if they do they are not punished. The Federation found that the Heightening allows citizens to express their human nature, and, as a result, leads to more productive citizens. There are still laws that must be obeyed. No citizen is allowed to harm another citizen, and civil unrest is forbidden.

  The Federation determined that emotions on the extremes of the scale contributed to most, if not all, of social problems. They enacted the Heightening because they recognize the need for humans to experience the full range of emotions. But it is two-fold they want to please their citizens, and to remind them of the problems caused by the extreme emotions. So every year for one-night citizens are allowed to express their unrestricted emotions. And there are always plenty of problems that solidify the need for complacency. I have never understood how anyone could oppose the laws eliminating any actions that can lead to love and hate, or the laws that eliminate all social barriers by making all individuals equal, regardless of occupation. Everyone contributes and everyone receives the same benefits.

  I look at Sean as I step in front of him in line. He doesn’t return the favor, but I feel his breath on the back of my neck; it’s quick and labored as if he were exerting a great deal of energy. He’s standing closer to me than he should. I want to turn around, but our Proctor, Adam, is approaching. I hope Sean can control himself before he arrives. They could pull him out of the line and questioned him for any unusual behavior and if you asked me, breathing like a madman is unusual.

  I hear him inhale and slowly let out a breath. It’s warm
on my neck, and it sends shivers throughout my body. I flinch. I try to clear my mind. I think of my orchard. The apples are starting to get heavy on the branches; their sweet scent fills the air. I close my eyes and smile…I will miss the orchard. I envision him, the man from my nightmares. I should feel fear, but the thought of him warms me and comforts me. Sean’s breath has slowed, but he is close to me, and I can feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand. I imagine Sean is the man from my nightmare, and he kisses my neck as he reaches around and pulls me close to him.

  “Miss Greene,” a stern voice shatters my comfortable vision of apples, serenity, and desire.

  “Adam?” My breaths are quick, and my heart is racing.

  “Please come with me,” he says abruptly. He doesn’t look pleased with my lack of formality. His eyebrows are squished together, and his face is drawn into a stern scowl.

  My mind starts to race. What did I do? Did he find out about my father or what Pam said to me this morning? Or did he see me smile? I shouldn’t have smiled, but sometimes it is impossible to control myself. Maybe he noticed Sean standing too close.

  I don’t question or resist. I just follow him. The entrance to the POE is magnificent, with double doors, flanked by tall granite pillars that lead into the lobby. I quickly look over my shoulder and find Sean in line. He’s looking at me again. I see him mouth “sorry” and then he looks away.

  My shoes click, clack on the tile floor. The lobby is empty; all the students are still outside waiting in line-up for their Proctors to retrieve them. I stare at the back of our Proctors head. He’s been my educator for the last four years, but we aren’t allowed to know any personal information about each other. The students call him Proctor. I call him Proctor, but this afternoon, I’ll call him Adam and in a year, when I finish my internships, I might be calling him husband.

  He’s not much older than I am, 24 years old. I look at him closely; his hair is dark brown and cut into the neat approved proctor hair style. His shoulders are broad, and he’s taller than I am. His brown suit is perfect, and he smells like our classroom: lemon cleaner and plastic.

  He walks past the administration hallway. I look down it, to the headmaster’s office door. I’m confused. If I’m in trouble why aren’t we going to the headmaster? I follow him down the laborer hall and enter a doorway that leads to a staircase. We go down. I want to talk, ask him but I’m afraid. My hands are moist. I wipe them on my jacket. I can feel my throat tighten. In our history classes, we learn about the ways of our predecessors and their crimes against society. A hundred terrible images are running through my head, and I have the urge to run. I shouldn’t be afraid of him, but I am.

  We walk down another hallway, and he opens a door. He turns to look at me and motions for me to enter. He’s looking right into my eyes. I stand there and just stare back at him. His eyes are brown. I had never noticed that before or that he has a dimple on his left cheek. He’s smiling at me. He is a handsome man. He doesn’t look strict or cruel at this moment, but I have seen him discipline, and I know his capabilities. I take a step backward. I want to run, but the thought of the punishment for disobeying my proctor stops me.

  “It’s okay,” he says. His voice is not as stern as it was when he pulled me out of line.

  I enter the room, careful not to touch him as I walk by him. The light comes on when I cross the threshold. He enters behind me and closes the door. I hear a small click and my heart sinks…he locked the door.

  The room is small. There are some shelves to my right with cleaning supplies and a row of stacked chairs to my left. There is no place for me to go, and there’s no way anyone would be able to hear me if I screamed. I take a step back and almost fall over a bucket. I look down; it has about an inch of brownish, gray water and a sour smell, waifs up to me. So I stand still with my hands on my side, trying not to breathe too deeply.

  “You’re afraid,” he smiles at me. “Good, you should be.”

  “What have I done?” I can’t believe I opened my mouth. The punishment for questioning your Proctor is ten education points.

  “Nothing,” he said. “I just wanted to look at you, one last time before you’re heightened.”

  “What?” I step back against the wall. He is overstepping his rights to me. We aren’t married yet.

  “I know you will use your best judgment,” he says, taking a half-step towards me. “I can trust you to maintain compliance and dignity? I will find you after the ceremony.”

  “Yes,” I can feel the bucket against the back of my legs. I push it tight against the wall. My stomach churns and I can feel my throat tighten.

  “You’re going to get Politics first,” he says. “But you should know…” He lowers his voice and steps closer to me. “There was a wall breach last night.”

  “That’s impossible.” I did it again, speaking to a Proctor; I was breaking all sorts of laws and it wasn’t even first class. But now I know what happened at the outpost. Pam was right; she heard an explosion.

  “That’s what they want you to believe,” he said. “Don’t let your guard down. You will receive Education as your occupation. It’s already done.”

  “How,” I ask, still afraid, but curious.

  “It doesn’t matter how,” he said. “I can give you everything you need, just don’t ask me to explain myself.”

  “Okay,” my head is spinning and my stomach is churning. My sister’s words come back to me. ”You’re so naive.”

  “I will be looking out for you, keeping an eye on you. You won’t have to worry about anything.”

  “I can do it on my own,” I say. I look towards the door. My fear of him is being overpowered by the need for fresh air.

  “No, it doesn’t always work that way, especially now.” He steps closer to me. “With all of the attacks, they’ve decided that the majority of your class will end up in Defense, Labor or Transportation. And the old punishments are returning. There will be no more warnings.”

  “The tests are false?” I can’t believe what I’m hearing. My entire perfect view of the world and the Federation has been disturbed. “How can that be?”

  “Never mind how, you are smart, and you would end up in Defense; if not for my influence.” He said. “You could end up on the front lines fighting the rebels.”

  “I don’t know how to fight,” I say. “I couldn’t.”

  “You could die.” He says. “You have to keep what I’ve told you all to yourself. I’ll do everything I can to get you back to me safely.”

  “Tonight,” I say.

  “I will find you,” he says. “You will be with me all night. I’m not taking the risk. I can’t afford any issues.”

  I understand his concerns, but they are not for me they are for him. He has plans to join the Educational council and a wife with any deviations will not help his plan. I decide right then and there to find a way to slip away before he can find me tonight.

  I’m looking at the floor, making sure I don’t knock the bucket over. I don’t want to look into his eyes. Everything about him, our conversation is wrong…illegal. He steps closer to me, too close. I feel his approach. The bucket; I try to move it aside with my foot. He doesn’t stop. His hands are my shoulders. I feel the warmth, his warmth through my clothes. It spreads. I look up at him. His face is only inches away from mine. He leans into me, and his lips are on mine. I freeze. I don’t know what to do. I can’t push away because my back is against the wall, and I’m hovering over the filthy water. His hands touch my face. My stomach twists in an unfamiliar twinge of fear, desire and nausea. He’s so warm against me, and his mouth is sweet. My whole body feels numb. His hands slip down my neck, my sides and find my hips. He pulls me close to him. Our bodies are touching. His grip is firm. He slips one of his hands to my waist and runs his fingers along my belt line. I feel his skin against mine. His mouth is still pressed against my lips. He pushes his tongue between my lips, and I gasp for air. I gag. I can’t breathe. I’m terrified that I’m going
to vomit. He releases me and steps back.

  I can hardly breathe. I can’t think of anything to say. I feel a deep heat rise from within my core. And I’m not sure if it’s desire or regurgitation. I try to regain composure. I feel weak and filthy. His skin was upon mine, and all I can think about are all of the diseases, bacterial, and the way it made me feel. He’s smiling at me. He is a handsome man. I never looked at him before, but now I can’t take my eyes off of him. But the overwhelming need to breathe, to rid myself of his germs and the unmistakable invasion of bacteria in my lungs; is more persuasive than my desire to release years of pent-up frustrations.

  “You don’t have to be afraid of me,” he says. “But you should be afraid.”

  I can’t talk. If I try, I will surely cover myself in what remains of my breakfast.

  He turns and walks away, leaving me alone in the room. I lean against the door and hold my head in my hands. “What the hell just happened?”

  I double over and release the contents of my stomach into the bucket.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Quinn

  The water washes over my back and head. The tile is cold against my hands, but I need the wall to steady myself. I can barely open my eyes; I’m exhausted. The rebels destroyed the wall post. I had friends stationed there; it was my home. It was all that I had left of my past life, and now it is gone.

  After I get ready and have breakfast; I go to line-up. I listen as our commander debriefs us about the attacks overnight. Each quadrant had a post destroyed last night; four hundred and fifty-three citizens died.

  Our orders have changed slightly; we are to detain and neutralize any threats. The night of the Heightening is full of deviations from protocol. We are to monitor and neutralize any activities that appear threatening.

  Max, Smith and I have plans for tonight. But we will be on duty all night long, making it difficult to enjoy the one night that we can release a year’s worth of tension. If I know Smith, he has already figured out how to make the best of the situation. The tricky part will be convincing Max to go along with the plan.