The Institution: A Young Adult Dystopian Series (Sacrisvita Book 1)

by Dylan Steel

  “Now then,” Ms. Pembergast continued, “Let’s begin by getting to know each other a bit better, shall we?”

  Sage nodded.

  “Alright!” She clapped her hands together. “Tell me about yourself, Sage. Who is Sage?”

  Sage shrugged. “I’m Sage. I like playing in the woods, and my parents are—er, were Ethan and Isabelle Indarra.” Tears welled in her eyes, and she bit her lip to keep them from rolling down her cheek.

  “Oh, shh—shh—shh—shh!” Ms. Pembergast shushed her in an apparent effort to comfort her. “Let’s not think about that, alright? Tell me more about the woods you like playing in,” she prodded.

  “Well, I—” Sage was about to explain how the old abandoned bridge that she liked playing underneath had cobblestones that were always wet because the rain always drained too slowly, but something about the way Ms. Pembergast had asked seemed strange, almost eager. “I mean, I don’t really know much about them. They’re woods, you know? Trees and grass and stuff. I just like them.”

  “Oh, I see,” she said, looking almost disappointed. Then, her expression brightened. “But there’s something else about you now, too. Something you should be very excited about.”

  Sage furrowed her brow, trying to think of what possible good news she could have gotten since yesterday.

  “You’re an official citizen of Eprah! Isn’t that wonderful?”

  Sage attempted a weak grin. “Sure,” she said.

  “I know you don’t completely understand yet, and it’s really not your fault—your parents really shouldn’t have kept you from experiencing the benefits of citizenship—but this truly is a wonderful place. I can’t imagine what kind of horrible people would treat their child so cruelly as to keep them from here.”

  Sage bristled. Despite her better judgment, she snapped at Ms. Pembergast, and all her thoughts came tumbling out. “They weren’t horrible people! You’re horrible people! Someone killed them, and all you want is to lock me up instead of locking up whoever killed them! I don’t want to say any stupid pledges or say thank you to any stupid country—I just want my parents, and I want to leave!”

  The silence was deafening. Sage and Ms. Pembergast stared at each other for a moment, neither one blinking.

  “I see,” Ms. Pembergast said icily, breaking the silence. “Well, if that’s how you feel about the graciousness of Eprah, Sage, I am certainly willing to let you see what a day is like without it. If your parents are dead, they most certainly brought it on themselves. I’ll not deal with outbursts like that. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  With that, Ms. Pembergast disappeared again, and the overhead lights flicked off, leaving Sage in total darkness.

  3. BEST BEHAVIOR

  Several weeks had passed since Sage’s outburst at Ms. Pembergast—or at least, it seemed like it had been several weeks. Counting time was difficult without a window to show the familiar pattern of the sun in the sky, and she knew she’d messed up her counting somewhere around the ninth day.

  That day had stretched on for an imperceptibly long time, and despite feeling her way to the bin several times, she hadn’t received another meal. In fact, she couldn’t really be sure if it was one day or several because the room simply remained pitch black until Ms. Pembergast and the overhead lights announced it was time to wake up again. They both acted as if nothing unusual had happened the day before, and they pressed on in the routine of meals and lessons and study and constant monitoring.

  After that, Sage had been much more careful to keep her true sentiments in check, and she never pressed her luck unless it was after dinner had been delivered.

  The food was gradually becoming more tolerable as Sage got used to her new surroundings, though it was hardly ever appetizing and certainly never fresh.

  She had the morning pledge memorized by the fourth day, and she had already learned a great deal of the history of Eprah. The way Ms. Pembergast told the story, the country had triumphantly risen from the ashes of the old civilizations. Eprah’s first leaders had faced a crisis in uniting the civilizations; people were rioting, murders were on the rise, and prisons were becoming overcrowded with the ever-increasing number of citizens committing unthinkable crimes.

  Eprah’s leaders—the Original Five—discovered that the law-abiding citizens of Eprah were more than happy to exchange a few privileges to better ensure their safety, and the System of Worth was born.

  Every citizen was afforded different opportunities based on their worth. Those unborn and very young presented a quandary because they had yet to prove their worth, so an educational system was set up to ensure that each child was given an equal footing on which to start life. They were protected from the moment they came into existence until the moment they graduated at seventeen years of age. At the end of their educations, students were given different work assignments based on the aptitude they had shown during their time in school. This was the Institution in which Sage now found herself.

  By the time citizens had offered their best years in service to Eprah, they had more than proven their worth, and they were placed in a protected class out of gratitude for services rendered.

  “And so the very old and the very young have always been treated well in Eprah because they have either proven themselves worthy of such respect or have yet to be given an adequate opportunity to prove themselves worthy,” Ms. Pembergast recited.

  “But what about the people in between?” Sage asked, mindful that her stomach was already filled from dinner.

  “Well, of course, they are treated fairly as well,” Ms. Pembergast replied without hesitation. “Eprah ensures that everyone is given their own best chance based on how likely they are to contribute and how important their contributions are—which is to everyone’s benefit.”

  Sage nodded uncertainly.

  A concerned look spread over Ms. Pembergast’s face. “Sage, has anyone explained your bracelet to you?”

  Sage shook her head but said nothing.

  “Oh, dear. I’m so sorry. That was a frightful oversight on my part.” Ms. Pembergast continued, “First, you must understand that the bracelet you’re wearing will have different purposes at different times. You should also know that the injection you received—” she stopped and looked hard at Sage. “You got your injection just before you came here, correct?”

  Sage nodded again.

  “Alright, good. The injections contain billions of microscopic zeptobes,” she continued, ignoring the confusion on Sage’s face, “and those dispersed throughout your body and latched on to all your nerve connections. Each zeptobe is capable of sending out a specific frequency pulse, depending on the input of your bracelet.” Ms. Pembergast paused.

  “For example, at your age, the only real pulses that would be sent out would cause your body to stiffen, and you would essentially fall into a temporary coma. But of course, that would only be if you did something dramatic like trying to run away from the Institution.” Ms. Pembergast laughed at the absurdity of the scenario.

  Sage’s eyes widened. She felt her heart drop to the floor as she realized the last ounce of hope she had been clinging to had just been destroyed. She wasn’t doing a good job of hiding her emotions. Fortunately, her instructor was too consumed with her grand explanation to notice.

  “Not, of course, that you would,” Ms. Pembergast said, seemingly unaware of the bleak prison sentence she had just pronounced on Sage. “But it is important that you know that. It’s for your safety, of course, both now and in the future. It’s absolutely essential that you’re always aware of your bracelet and the zeptobes so that eventually, you will be the best citizen you can be.”

  “What do—”

  “Oh, my, look at the time!” Ms. Pembergast exclaimed, brushing past any more of Sage’s questions. “I’ll have to let you finish up your studies and go to bed. Tomorrow’s an important day!”

  Sage raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “What do you mean? What’s special about tomorrow?”


  Ms. Pembergast pursed her lips into a knowing smile. “Tomorrow, you get to meet the rest of your Transitional Class.”

  4. THE FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL

  The breakfast tray clattered in the bin. Sage’s stomach was knotted in anticipation—though it may have been the rehydrated berries. She hadn’t spoken to another soul in over a month. She wasn’t even sure if Ms. Pembergast existed outside of the projection that had spent every day with her.

  A loud buzz interrupted her thoughts. She took a step backward in surprise as she watched the door swing toward her. Standing in the tall frame was a short, slight girl about Sage’s age with reddish brown hair tied neatly on either side of her face. Her smile stretched from freckle to freckle, and she also wore the now-familiar black tank top and gray pants.

  “Hi!” The girl radiated excitement as she stretched out her hand in a very adult-like fashion. “I’m Penelope!”

  Sage paused for a moment, surprised to see another kid and not an adult.

  Penelope didn’t seem to mind her silence as she grabbed Sage’s hand and shook it enthusiastically. “You’re Sage, right?”

  Sage nodded. “Mmhmm.”

  “I get to show you to your orientation class,” she bubbled, pulling Sage into the hallway. “I’m a Level Seven Ambassador, so we’ll probably be in class together eventually.”

  “Level Seven…”

  “Right! Because we’re seven!” She paused. “You are seven, right?” She seemed concerned for a moment.

  Sage nodded again. She liked questions she could answer honestly.

  “Ok, good. I was worried we wouldn’t get to have class together,” Penelope said seriously. “The ambassador thing just means that they think I show leadership promise. It’s like a trial run.” Her head bobbed as she spoke.

  As Penelope prattled on and led them through a maze of hallways, Sage felt hopeful that the loneliness that had blanketed her in the last month might be lifting.

  They came to a stop in front of another large metal door. Nothing about this place was homey. Somehow, the door must have sensed their arrival because it opened on its own.

  “Gotta get to my class now,” Penelope said. “Have fun!” She nudged Sage into the room, turned, and skipped back down the hallway.

  Sage looked around the new room with uncertainty. Although roughly fifty desks were laid out in the room, only six had other kids sitting in them, and they looked to be about her age, all in the same familiar garb. The walls and floor of this room were finished in dull gray concrete. A giant screen hung on the wall at one end, and in front of it stood an older version of Ms. Pembergast. This woman’s hair was completely gray, and wrinkles were set into her forehead, but the voice was the same.

  “Sage! Welcome, welcome! We’re so glad you could join us today! As you already know, I’m Ms. Pembergast, and this is the rest of your Transitional Class.” She motioned towards the students in the desks. “They’re all fairly new as well.”

  “In fact, Everett just joined us yesterday. Go on and take a seat next to him.” She nodded toward a boy in the front row. His face grew red, and he furrowed his brow at Sage as he slumped down in his chair.

  Sage made her way to her new desk and slid into the seat. She glanced over at Everett, but he ignored her and instead stared at what must have been a fascinating desk leg near their instructor.

  “Alright, children, let’s continue. Who developed the System of Worth?”

  “The Original Five,” Sage said automatically.

  Ms. Pembergast shot her a look. “Sage, while I appreciate your enthusiasm, I’m going to ask that you raise your hand before you answer in the future.”

  The other kids giggled. Everett smirked at her. Sage felt her face grow red and again wished that she could disappear back into the woods.

  Ms. Pembergast continued quizzing the students, but Sage kept quiet and let the others answer. Just as she was getting a handle on the rhythm of the questions, Ms. Pembergast stopped the exercise and divided them into two groups. Sage was shuffled into a group with three other students and was grateful Everett wasn’t one of them.

  “I’m going to give you some time to put together a brief presentation on the history of Eprah,” she said. “You three will give an overview of the time period leading up to the formation of Eprah, and you four,” she nodded towards Sage’s group, “will discuss the first few years of Eprah. You may use your databooks, and there are additional resources available if you click on the appendix. Let me know if you have any questions.”

  The students reached under their desks and each pulled out a small metal tablet, not unlike the one the officer had used to record Sage’s information. She looked around and reached under her own desk, drawing out a tablet identical to the others’.

  “I’m Nic,” said the only boy in their group, flashing her a warm smile.

  “Aura,” said the first girl with frizzy golden curls that showed no sign of taming.

  “Marnie,” piped the other girl, pushing her glasses back on her nose.

  A wave of relief swept over Sage. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. “I’m Sage,” she said, then added, “obviously.”

  They all giggled.

  Nic took the lead. He doled out specific tasks, stopping occasionally to argue with Marnie over who should do this-that-or-the-other-thing as Aura sighed loudly, but before long, they were all burying their faces in their tablets, researching the finer details of their history.

  Sage finished reading a section and leaned back in her chair. She was trying to piece together her words carefully when she overheard a voice whispering behind her.

  “I’ll bet anything she’s one of those Lawless kids.”

  She looked back at the other group and saw Everett and another boy nodding their heads. Her face flushed, and she fought back tears. She was fairly certain she had just been insulted, but she didn’t know what they meant.

  “Don’t worry about them.” Aura poked her face closer to Sage’s and whispered reassuringly, “Marnie was a Lawless, and she’s ok now.”

  Sage screwed up her face. “What’s a Lawless?”

  “You know, people who don’t live by the rules of Eprah. I hear they don’t even wear bracelets, and some don’t even have zeptobes.” Aura’s eyes grew wider as she whispered the revelation.

  “Oh,” Sage said slowly, “and that’s bad.” She tried to make it sound more like a statement than a question.

  “Yeah,” Aura said, “I mean, it’s for our own good. I don’t know why anyone wouldn’t—” she stopped herself. “Oh, I’m sorry, Sage! Were you a Lawless? It’s ok if you were, really. You know better now.” She lowered her voice even more and added, “It’s not even kids’ faults, you know. They say it’s their parents who never relinquish them to Eprah.”

  Sage forced a smile but didn’t answer. She didn’t like how often her parents were blamed for doing her a great disservice when all she could remember of them was how much they seemed to love her.

  “Anyways, a lot of us here just didn’t test quite high enough,” she said, looking sheepish. “Eprah has really high standards,” she added quickly. “And my tutor wasn’t that great, so my parents weren’t that surprised when they found out I had to enroll in the Transitional Class this year.”

  “Your tutor?”

  “Yeah. He was nice, but he didn’t help me enough with my grades, so my tutor privileges were revoked.” She stopped. “Wait, were you a Lawless?”

  “Oh, no,” Sage lied. “I just wasn’t sure I heard you right.”

  Aura smiled, seeming relieved. Sage wished she could trust her enough with the truth, but she didn’t think Aura would understand that Sage actually preferred her parents to Eprah.

  Nic cleared his throat. “Did you two finish reading?”

  Sage started to nod, but Aura bit her lip and shrugged her shoulders.

  “C’mon, Aura, you have to present too.”

  “It’s fine, Nic. I’m almost done anyways.”


  “You don’t want to end up like Pippa,” he warned sternly.

  “Who’s Pippa?” Sage asked.

  Aura rolled her eyes. “That was totally different,” she protested. “Pippa said she wished zeptobes had never been invented.”

  Nic ignored her and turned to Sage. “Pippa’s back in the Cleansing.”

  She cocked her head.

  “You know, where you just were. She said something she shouldn’t have, and someone—” he jerked his thumb at Marnie “—told Ms. Pembergast, and she’s been gone for the last week.”

  Sage’s eyes widened.

  “She’ll probably be out for another month,” he added.

  “Well, she should have known better,” Marnie quipped self-righteously, joining the conversation. “And anyhow, you could just tell she doesn’t like it here in Eprah. I wish I’d been born in the city—I’m sure I’d be an ambassador by now if I had.”

  Nic sighed loudly. “We know, Marnie.”

  Ms. Pembergast’s voice rang out over the classroom. “Students, it’s time to wrap it up! You’ll get some more time to work on your presentations tomorrow, and everyone will present in front of the class on Friday.”

  She continued in a cheery tone. “I know it’s early, but next week, we’ll begin preparing for your spring exams. Remember, these will determine which class you are placed in next year, so study hard! You will graduate at seventeen no matter how prepared you are, so be sure you are prepared for these tests. We’ll have practice exams in a few months, so you’ll eventually have a baseline to work from too.

  “I can’t stress the importance of these exams enough,” she said, growing even more serious as she eyed Sage. “It would not be an overstatement to say that their outcome will affect the rest of your lives.”

  5. THE TOUR