by S. L. Baum
The first bell of the day rang.
It was time to be branded as Citizens.
Chapter Two
A New Brand Day
I was fifth in a line of twenty seventeen-year-old girls. We walked swiftly, as we always did, but quietly, which was rarely the norm, toward the Medical Services Wing of Training Tech.
Medical Services was in the exact center of Training Tech; a rounded hub inserted in the center of an otherwise mostly rectangular compound. It was a stark white place consisting of white walls, white tables, white cabinets, and white-coated medical personnel with bland white toothed smiles. It even smelled white, of bleach and disinfectant. Students were required to have twice-yearly physicals, ensuring that we were all in prime physical condition. Vials of our blood were always taken, after we had been put through an extensive fitness regimen. When the results of the tests came back, an altered diet was prescribed for those who had need of it, extra physical activity was demanded of those who registered an unacceptable body fat percentage, high calorie shakes were added to the breakfast trays of those who weighed too little, and medicines were administered to those who required it.
Medical Services was also where Citizen Branding took place. We were told that it wouldn’t initially hurt, but there would be a few days of a dull ache after the numbing medicines had worn off. I’m not sure if I believed the Guardians. They told us exactly what they were told to tell us.
I looked ahead, at the wide double doors, and my stomach did a flip; then it went through a full calisthenics routine. I had to take in a deep breath of air and close my eyes for a minute, just to settle my nerves. I circled my right hand around my left wrist and squeezed. My grip was so tight it began to hurt. You are being silly, I told myself. Every adult Citizen wore his or her Brand. And since I had been deemed ready for Incorporation, I was considered an adult.
I watched as Holly, first in line, pushed the doors wide open. She walked forward with confidence. Willow, her best friend, was not right behind her, as she always was. I looked over my shoulder and saw her lagging in the back, her face scrunched up in, anxious and uncomfortable. I glanced at Lily, who stood directly behind me, and frowned. She put her hands on my shoulders and gave me a reassuring squeeze.
I smiled at her and whispered, “Thanks.”
“It’ll be okay,” she whispered back.
I nodded my head and mouthed, I know, before I turned back around.
But I didn’t know, how could I? How could any of us? We just knew what the Guardians and our trainers told us. And we were taught to accept what they said without question. So I put on my obedient face and held my head up a little higher, trying to convince myself that it was all okay, and then I walked through the open doors.
Dr. Odessa was waiting for us inside. She was a robust woman, muscled and tall. I’d often thought she could pass for a man, especially with how short she kept her hair. She was the chief female medical officer at Training Tech, and ordered her assistants around with a gruff tone and a stern look. I was a Year Six when Dr. Odessa became a new addition to the medical team. She hadn’t changed much. Maybe her muscles had gotten bigger, but she certainly hadn’t gotten any nicer.
We were led over to an assembly line of machines, which had been brought into the medical center for precisely this procedure. The Citizen Branding Pamphlet explained the process but reading though it didn’t have much of an impact. Standing in front of the machines, with your own flesh about to be marked, did.
“You will move in an orderly fashion and follow the directions of my medical assistants. You will work your way from the left side of the room to the right side. After you have received your final mark for today, please take the medicine cup from the table at the door, swallow all of the liquid in the cup, and then exit to the Main Hall for Incorporation,” Dr. Odessa boomed. Her voice carried all the way down the hall, to the back of the line, with ease. “Congratulations, you are about to complete your first step towards becoming Citizens of Concord One.”
When I reached the first machine, the medical assistant took hold of my arm. She wiped the inside of my forearm with cold, wet gauze and then inserted it, elbow deep, into the round, open slot in the white enameled machine. “This is step one: Sanitizing and Numbing. It will feel a little warm, and then cold, and then it will feel warm again. Stand still, count to ten, and when the machine beeps, you may remove your arm. Then move on to step two,” she explained through the white mask that covered her mouth and nose. She had a white, elasticized cap on her head that covered any trace of her hair. She was unrecognizable. A non-descript face doing a non-descript job… one step up from a Guardian but far from being a lady of society, like Aspen.
I nodded my head at her and then started the mental count down. The machine hissed and steam escaped from the hole my arm was resting in. It drifted up toward the ceiling, and as I watched it rise, a blast of icy cold washed over my skin. There was the stick of a needle, and then a warmth crept up my arm, starting at my wrist and traveling to just above my elbow. The machine blipped. I moved on.
At the next stop the medical assistant squinted her eyes at me, the only part of her face I could see, before she began her explanation. “This is step two: Initial Searing. As you’ve been numbed, there will be no pain. You must try to hold perfectly still. The vice will keep your arm in place, so it shouldn’t be too hard.”
I stared blankly at her.
“Did you hear me?”
“Yes,” I answered.
“Also… I’d hold my breath if I were you,” she whispered. “Don’t inhale through your nose.”
I nodded my head in understanding.
She took my arm, placed it into the machine, and I immediately felt pressure on my skin as vices were tightened around my wrist and elbow. I heard two clicks and they were secured. “Now!” she whispered as a spark of light was seen coming from inside the machine. I felt more pressure at my wrist. “Count to ten again,” the medical assistant instructed in a strong, clear voice.
I counted again and when I reached ten the pressure on my wrist and elbow subsided. The internal vice was released. I withdrew my left arm from the machine and inspected it. A bright red circle had just been seared into my flesh. The assistant sprayed my arm with something. The liquid bubbled around the edges of the freshly seared skin. I continued to hold my breath not wanting to smell the burnt odor, but it invaded my nostrils anyway, along with the medicinal spice of the spray. I dropped my arm, trying to keep it out of sight. Medical Assistant Number Two pointed toward the last machine and I continued on.
“You’re almost done,” the assistant standing in front of the last machine said. I could hear the smile in her voice. “It’s really not that bad at all, now is it?”
“I guess not,” I shrugged.
“This is step three: Black Imprint. I will insert your arm, another vice will hold it secure, and then you should…”
“…count to ten,” I finished for her.
“Precisely,” she nodded as she placed my arm inside.
I didn’t bother to count. I just waited for the vice to release me and then I removed my arm. A black circle was surrounding the red one; so close that the black seemed to be bleeding into the red just a little, there was a slightly hazy smudge where the two circles met.
“Please step forward to Bandaging,” another assistant said, touching my elbow and pointing to the last station.
My wrist was slathered with some sort of clear salve, wrapped in a white gauzy band, and taped securely. I started to walk toward the door, but was stopped by a tap on my shoulder. I glanced to my left and met the stern gaze of a Guardian. She looked familiar. I remembered her red curly hair and pale white skin dotted with freckles. Freckles… Dotty… well, that wasn’t really her name. It was just what we called our Guardian when we were Year Two students.
Dotty handed me the cup of liquid Dr. Odessa had told us to consume and shook her head at me. “Bluebell, you always had a hard time fo
llowing through with all of the directions. You can’t cut steps and still reach the end!” she warned. “A good Citizen follows all the rules.”
“I forgot,” I grimaced. “Sorry.”
I swallowed the bitter, amber colored liquid; it was thick and cloying on my tongue. I scraped my tongue across my top teeth trying to remove some of the residue. Dotty gave me a push forward and I stepped out of the medical center. I continued walking forward toward the connecting building, which housed the Main Hall.
Step one, Citizen Branding, had been initialized. In six months, it would be finalized. Now it was time for Incorporation.
Our Guardian was standing at the entrance to the Main Hall, and next to her stood a man. The sight of a male face that was younger than one of our parents was more startling than I thought it would be. He was probably in his mid twenties, like our Guardian, but that was still a dozen or more years younger than any of the fathers that attended Visitation days. He smiled widely as we were ushered into the hall.
“Girls on the left and boys on the right,” he boomed, making sure he was heard over the nervous chatter in the room.
“Swiftly,” our Guardian trilled.
I glanced around the room as we all scooted down the rows to find an empty seat. The boys were entering the room from the other door. Another pair of Guardians were guiding them to their seats. Every person in attendance, male and female, was adorned with a new white bandage… and almost everyone was grasping their left wrist with their right hand. I looked down at my own arm and then at Lily’s. We were doing the same.
I released my wrist and pointed toward the stage, to where Trainer Alpha stood behind the large wooden podium. She was a tall, reed thin woman, with white hair that was twisted into a tight bun at the very top of her head. Her wire-rimmed glasses were perched on the end of her nose. I don’t think she’d ever had a corrective surgery or a beauty treatment in her life. She wore her age proudly, something Aspen, or any of the other mothers or grandmothers I’d seen on Social Visit Days, would never do. Aspen had so many beauty treatments that she’d pass as my older sister. Except for the sheen on her face, she barely looked older than me. Trainer Alpha was the oldest looking person I’d ever seen. But then, I’d been living at Training Tech for the past twelve years. Who knew what other kinds of people existed beyond the walls of my school?
“Young men and women of Concord, please find a seat and quiet down,” Trainer Alpha snapped into the microphone, her face contorted with impatience.
Lily plopped down, grabbed my hand, and pulled me down with her. A hush spread throughout the room as everyone else sat down immediately, exactly where they were.
“You have almost reached the end of your stay at Training Tech,” Trainer Alpha began. “As Year Twelve students, it is time for you to complete your initial schooling and find out where your aptitudes lie. Some of you may go on to become medical officers, trainers, Guardians, tailors, or chefs. You young men can add armory, law, and mechanics, along with many other useful careers… and if you are fortunate enough, you might even become a member of The Council. Our special young women will do their social duty and have children, keeping Concord’s numbers strong, and adding new students to Training Tech.
“Once you have successfully maneuvered through Incorporation and continue on to the Career Education Center, you will find out what the future has in store for you. Many of you will eventually have Marriage Contracts arranged. Some are destined for other things. Whatever is in store for you, it is your duty to be the best Citizens of Concord that you can possibly be.
“As the head trainer, all of the young men and women here have had the pleasure of my tutelage. But our young women have never met my first officer, Trainer Beta. He is in charge of the male wing of Training Tech and will be assisting in all aspects of Incorporation. Please welcome Trainer Beta.” Trainer Alpha stepped away from the microphone and gestured toward the man who was sitting quietly in the chair behind her.
Trainer Beta had probably taken full advantage of every youth serum and medical procedure available. The serums were developed well over fifty years ago to slow the aging process of the skin to a mere crawl. Men and women who could afford it looked much younger than their true age. The Trainer’s skin was perfectly smooth and had that artificial, porcelain sheen that Aspen’s did. My father didn’t start until several years after Aspen, when she finally pushed him into it, so his skin didn’t look quite as perfect as hers. Aspen liked to gloat that it took her cunning and persuasive nature to convince him that a Council member should look the part. She said he was too “influential and important” to let his age show like a common man.
As the second most important trainer at Training Tech, Trainer Beta must have decided that he was anything but common. Beta had shiny black hair, almost waxy in appearance, and a muscular build. He definitely looked older than my father, but it was almost impossible for anyone to judge age anymore, unless you were a medical officer. He strode forward and grabbed the microphone with his left hand.
He spoke in a quiet voice, full of authority. “Straighten up, men.”
I turned my head to look at the right side of the hall. Every male head snapped to attention and sat up a little taller; their shoulders squared and their spines straight.
“It is lovely to finally see all these charming young women in person,” he continued. “I have spent the last few months studying your files, so I feel as if I am already acquainted with you. And Alpha has told me so much about each of you as well.
“I want you to know that I think very highly of Alpha. She is such a competent and faithful woman. She has been the perfect example of a Citizen of Concord since I first met her, during our own Incorporation. That was quite a few years ago, wasn’t it Alpha?” he smiled and glanced toward her. “We formed a close bond during our time at the CEC, the Career Education Center, when we both discovered we were destined to be Trainers. Throughout the years, we have molded the minds of many, many Citizens. Your parents have all had the benefit of our Training, unless of course they transferred from another section.
“I want you to understand that we are here to support you, to guide you, to help you embrace your destiny as Citizens. Wherever your aptitudes lie, whatever your medical tests show, however you may feel about it… you must do what is expected of you. There is no other option. Accept your calling. Blossom in it, like a worthy Citizen of Concord should,” he finished and smiled a toothy smile.
Beta had shockingly large, perfectly straight, brilliantly white teeth. Like everything else about him, they looked manufactured. If I had to compare, he wasn’t so different from all the visiting fathers I’d seen… well, maybe a little more plastic looking. But if he was as old as Alpha, then he’d had more time to indulge in the youth treatments, which brought about that desired look.
I wondered how many other people looked this way. After Incorporation was over, I’d be able to see for myself; because up until graduation we would only be allowed to leave campus for approved outings, which were closely supervised by the Guardians and during which we were always highly guarded. I was finally going to be able to discover everything that was beyond the walls of Training Tech… and not just the parts we were allowed to see.
Alpha grazed her hand along Beta’s back, trailing her fingers from shoulder to shoulder. As she stepped in front of the microphone again, she gave him a small stiff smile. “Thank you, Beta. Young men and women, prepare yourselves for an intense six months of Incorporation. There will be aptitude tests, medical tests, personal wellness tests, adaptation activities, classes in proper grooming, and advanced history lessons. When you leave Training Tech for the comfort of your homes, and are ready for the Career Education Center, you will be fully prepared to start walking the path toward your appointed role in society. Stay seated while a brief film is displayed, and then you will receive your Month One Schedule before moving on to your shared meal. Concur with Concord.” Alpha smiled.
“Concur wit
h Concord,” we all repeated, our standard response when parting ways.
The lights faded as Alpha and Beta exited the stage and the wall screen in the back of the room flickered to life. The patriotic theme of Concord played in the background as images of young men and women going through the stages of Incorporation were displayed on the screen. The messages that flashed between images were nothing new. We had begun learning about the Incorporation process when we were Year Eleven students. I tuned them out, leaned my head on Lily’s shoulder, and closed my eyes.
“Psssst, Blue. Wake up, sleepy girl, the film is over,” Lily whispered.
I blinked in confusion and lifted my head. My eyes tried to focus on the screen. I expected to find Incorporation images, but instead found Film Creation Credits, their scrolling white words on a black background. “I can’t believe I slept through the whole thing. How long was I out?” I asked, stretching my legs out in front of me.
“Forty-five, mind-numbing minutes. Um, I mean forty-five, educational and enlightening minutes. Forget that first thing… just remember the last part. Oh and tell people that you can’t wait to glow with the spirit of cooperation,” Lily giggled.
The lights slowly came back up, brightening the room.
“Thanks, Lily. Spirit of cooperation. Got it,” I nodded my head.
“Everybody please rise and follow me,” the male Guardian at the back of the room instructed.
“Let’s go,” the female Guardian loudly clapped her hands twice.
Lily and I exited the row we’d sat in and merged into a line of people that consisted of both boys and girls. I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped my lips. It was actually just a single “Ha” and not a peal of laughter, a nervous response to being six inches away from the opposite sex - something that hadn’t happened in twelve years. They smelled different, salty, musty, and earthy, not fragranced and floral like us… and definitely not like my father. They had obviously been given different standard issue personal grooming products. I guess boys weren’t supposed to smell like lilacs or gardenias. Somebody had decided they should smell like trees and the sea. I wondered who on The Council was in charge of standard issue scents.
