“It’s Friday, and the year is 1962. Yet another hot, sunny day has rolled in over Intelia. Glory to the motherland!”
Those were the words Edward had heard coming from the PSA radio on his kitchen desk, while making a simple breakfast from the rations he’d bought for the credit he’d earned at work.
As always, the words on the radio were infinitely true. Edward especially felt the heat of the sun, as it caused droplets of sweat to fall into his eyes while he was desperately trying to direct the slightest bit of concentration towards the test that laid on his desk, threatening to ruin his entire future.
The young man couldn’t recall fumbling his way through the morning traffic. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he had spent all night studying for the test in front of him. Truth be told, he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep.
Minutes passed and the young academy student only grew more and more desperate to get the test over with.
He would take sip after sip of scalding coffee from the thermos next to the paper, praying for it to give him some magical burst of vitality with which to finish off the white, looming menace that stood in sharp contrast to the world of gray his tired eyes were showing him.
“Alright,” he whispered, finally turning the first page.
Intelia I3EP (Intelian Third-degree Education Paper), were the familiar words written on the page, followed by a stippled line, which Edward knew he was supposed to write his name on. The young man had done similar papers during mock exams, as well as the other end-grade tests at the end of each year.
The sound of his pen carefully scratching on the paper joined the veritable spectacle of pens and pencils elaborately spilling ink and lead across page after page of the other students’ respective papers.
Edward had no idea about how the others were able to go through the test with such light-heartedness; he felt like he was the only one considering the weight of each word he wrote.
He turned another page and felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of the first question.
1.When was the Intelian credit introduced, and what by what metric is its worth measured?
‘A trick question,’ Edward thought to himself, and began writing his answer.
“The Intelian credit has been the national currency ever since Intelia was founded, and will continue to serve as national currency for as long as the country is able to sustain itself. Credits are void outside Intelia’s borders, because a credit is worth nothing after the day it is awarded to any one person. One credit amounts to all supplies required to live a healthy, meaningful existence; food, water, and so on,” ended up being the words he wrote.
Edward couldn’t help but think that the test’s first question had been an easy one. He blamed his successful deciphering on the now almost empty thermos.
He flipped to the next page.
2. What is Intelia’s policy in regards to war? Is Intelia engaged in any war efforts at this time, and if so, how does the Intelian military work?
The student immediately started writing down his thoughts; this question wasn’t a problem for him to answer either. In fact, he fondly remembered the time he’d spent in class, studying the miraculous workings of his motherland.
His teacher had begun the lecture by explaining how other countries, such as America, handles conflict with other nations, appalling every attentive student with each word that left his lips.
Afterwards, papers had been handed out in class and each student was asked to write down three ways to avoid conflict.
Edward’s response had been mediocre, at best – in fact, he couldn’t even remember what he had written at the time. However, in spite of that he’d still enjoyed the lecture a lot. Intelian education actually tended to be like that a lot. Interesting, and intellectually stimulating with just the right amount of involvement from both teachers and students.
The studious young man looked at the question again, and snickered slightly. His answer was already clearly written on the before-so-blank page.
“The motherland has never been involved in a war, and is widely regarded as the least hostile nation in existence. However, the motherland does have a pseudo-military force that exists to protect its tightly closed borders, in the event of a foreign menace attempting to infringe on our right to isolation from the outside world. The military consists of advanced animatronics, controlled by the government.”
He skimmed through the test, looking for grammatical error. As he did that, he lifted his thermos up to his lips, expecting the rejuvenating drops of vitalizing, hot coffee to wetten is dry throat, only to realize that it was empty.
A sigh escaped his lips. His tired eyes weren’t picking up any mistakes in his text, so he decided to go to the next page.
This page made it quite clear that the questions were harder than those of previous tests he’d done; this was the I3EP, after all.
3. Which political party won the national election on November 11th, 1900? Which party came before them? Explain each party’s values, and the differences between them.
Edward buried his head deep within his hands and dug his fingers into his luscious, dark-brown. The young student hated these kinds of questions, mostly because they didn’t interest him in the slightest. He, and everyone he knew, thought that the democratic process was an utterly useless phenomenon; the current party – the Nationalists – were, after all, more than adequate at handling everything in regards to internal politics.
He started writing down his thoughts on a separate piece of paper, since he couldn’t quie come up with a well-worded answer on the top of his head.
In the end, he had written something he could be somewhat satisfied with,
“The motherland is currently governed by the Intelian Agriculture Party, who make it their goal to preserve the peaceful society and high living standards of our great nation. They’re responsible for great feats, such as the revision of the Intelian Constitution in 1902, promptly followed by the Intelian Animatronic Defense Act, the Agricultural Reform, and the global immigration ban. All of which are things we have greatly benefitted from.
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In the period spanning from the 19th to the 20th century, the motherland was governed by the Intelian Nationalist Party, who laid the groundwork for the world-wide immigration ban and today’s credit, both of which are things that have allowed us to prosper today.
While the Nationalist Party never achieved anything great, like the Agriculture Party, they did lay a lot of the groundwork on the socio-economic level. In just 100 years, the Nationalists managed to close the gap between the rich and the poor, by adding an expiration date to credits. In short, the difference between the two would be the fact that the Agriculture Party is all about rapidly integrating new elements into our society while the Nationalists focus on slow, thought-out improvement of our great nation’s existing qualities.”
Edward caressed his tired right hand. He felt like he’d just drained his brain of everything he could possibly pour into a condensed summary of two intricate parties. Looking at the work he had done, he could see that he wasn’t even halfway through.
Scratching sounds still occupied the air all around him, and he had to wonder if he was just slower than everyone else.
He looked up at the clock on his desk. 12:03 PM.
‘Still a bit over an hour left,’ were the words that passed through his tired mind. ‘Just closing my eyes for a – no!’ He slapped his cheeks again. ‘I can sleep when I’m done.’
Yet another page was turned, yet another question was answered. That process repeated itself three times, with easy questions that didn’t require much thought, and as such were quick to answer.
After having answered the 7th question, the studious young man dropped his pen and stretched.
The last four questions had all been attempts to trick him into arguing against using animatronics to do police work, surgery, and the like – things that, in the average citizen’s eyes, were common sense.
With elaborately crafted questions, such as question number five – “Who is liable for damages, in the event that an automaton malfunctions during surgery?” – the system was trying to make him point out its nonexistent flaws, which only further testified to its absolute perfection.
There was, and could be, no margin of failure when animatronics were concerned. That much was common sense.
Edward turned to page nine, where the next question awaited him. He had been expecting this one.
8. What is a tainted person, and how do we, as a society, identify such individuals? Why do we, in a classless system, label them as such?
A snicker escaped the young student. He didn’t believe in a classless system – such a thing simply couldn’t exist. Regardless of the kind of society, there will always be a group that commands just a smidge more respect than others.
In regards to tainted individuals, Edward had heard of them – everyone had. Almost as soon as
Flash back a few years ago, the young man had been sitting in the exact same classroom, he was in at the moment, listening to a strange lecture from a rather unorthodox teacher; one who was dissatisfied with the system. Edward hadn’t been as intrigued by the lecture itself; mostly because it had been the ramblings of a madman, who, for some reason, found himself dissatisfied with the system that had given him everything: his job, his home – things he apparently took for granted.
It later came out that the very same teacher was a tainted person.
Edward started writing his answer, trying his best to shake the unnerving memory of having been so close to pure malicious man. Of having let his words seep into his young and impressionable ears.
“Tainted people, commonly referred to as TP, are persons, who, even after we discovered how to mitigate mental disorders and disabilities, decide to hurt others with their words, actions, and/or thoughts. They are people who can’t seem to stay satisfied with relatively perfect equity, and as such strive for personal gain with whatever means they have at their disposal. Needless to say, they are the scum of society and need to be kept in check the same that way terrorists and the like are in other countries. They are identified via peer reports, which may be submitted to any one person’s DCO (also known as ‘District Correctional Officers), who will then make the final decision via rigorous interrogation. It is speculated that taint, the qualities we dislike about TPs, can spread via word of mouth, or trauma from the actions committed by said TPs.”
That question was especially easy for Edward to answer. It was an issue he thought about day and night – “Had he been tainted during that lecture?”
Every psychologist had told him no, yet it still kept him up at night.
Edward wasn’t feeling sleepy anymore. He had suddenly been overcome with a very powerful sense of reality. The results on this test would be the determining factor in both the state’s and his own view of himself, since it wasn’t normal to be able to pass an I3EP. Doing so required society to deem your morals flawless, and your understanding of the elements that make up the motherland clear.
Scratching from all around him.
He turned the next page, and was greeted by a question that was oddly similar to the former.
9. What do you think should be done about TPs? How are they hindering society in further prospering?
For some reason, the student felt unnerved by this one. It wasn’t as if the answer wasn’t common sense to him, nor was it like he felt morally troubled by the nature of the question. Yet, it felt like a trick question, even more so than the obvious ones.
He firmed his grip around his pen and wrote down the obvious answers:
Tainted people are hindering society with their toxic ideas and actions that only serve to impede the education and welfare of other people. They shall surely be put to death.
The scratching sounds around the room had halted.
‘A–are they already done?’
Edward threw a glance at the clock on his desk, which had yet to even pass 1PM.
He decided not to give it too much thought – wrote it off as him being somewhat incompetent, compared to them. So what if he couldn’t complete the test! He had already passed the I2ED, the exam that had enabled him to get a job.
The last question seemed to have a penetrating gaze of its own to reciprocate his wide-eyed stare at the words he was met by.
10. How are you feeling, Edward?
Not a second passed from him reading the words to him throwing himself to the floor in sheer surprise. No, horror.
He looked up and as if to confirm the sneaking sensation of dread, that was slowly eating away at his tired mind, he found the classroom vacant – filled only with synthetic sunlight shining in through the facades his tired eyes had mistaken for windows.
Edward wasn’t even close to tired anymore.
Silence was his only company for what felt like hours, until the door to the classroom opened without the usual creaking sound it made, when you opened it.
“W–what is this?!” the young man screamed, as the room slowly filled with men in white labcoats.
No response.
One of them was carrying a laptop, which he placed on one of the desks, which flickered slightly when he touched it. He fiddled around with the computer a bit and after a while the entire classroom felt different.
Not in some metaphysical way. Not in the slightest.
Everything was, quite literally different. The walls he had come to know through years and years of studying within their confines, were now a soulless white; the old chairs and vandalized desks were now tasteless, cheap folding chairs. The scenery outside the windows also changes – vanished, rather. As it turned out, there was nothing outside.
The windows were all placed alongside a wall covered in lamps.
Witnessing all this, Edward could do naught but laugh at his situation. All that worrying of his had been for nothing. It had all been a squalid roose, and he had been the unfortunate fish that had been caught in it.
Even as they grabbed him by the arms and inserted the syringe into his neck, he couldn’t find any fault with the callous men, as they carried out the will of the utopian system.
“Glory to the motherland.”