Freya was quickly approaching the Education Center when she became aware of her own hunger. She had not eaten much the day before, due to the procedure. She reached in her bag and grabbed a breakfast bar, then peeled back the wrapping. She bit into the bar and chewed slowly. The receptacle for organic waste was just ahead, so she hurried to throw the wrapper away, knowing the time was rapidly approaching the start of her first class of the day. As soon as she discarded the garbage, she walked over to the elevator and scanned in.
“Freya 117 verified.”
The elevator opened and promptly carried her to the correct floor. History was certainly not her favorite class, but she realized everyone needed to have a thorough understanding of their past if they were to be good citizens in the present and future; they simply could not afford to repeat any mistakes, and her studies had revealed that humanity had made a great many.
Freya actually arrived before several of her classmates. She sat at the usual table and pulled out her tablet. The instructor walked in and greeted her, then began to flip through her own tablet at the desk in the front. One at a time, other girls trickled in and took their seats.
“Good morning, everyone,” said the instructor.
A few students muttered responses, though none of them seemed to be all that enthused to be there.
“Everyone open your tablets to Chapter 12.”
As the students busied themselves with that task, the monitor in the classroom began to flash.
“Oh! It looks like there is something coming in from the State. We will continue with Chapter 12 after the broadcast.”
Freya wasn’t sure which was worse, sitting through history class or a broadcast from the State; they were both equally boring. The State used the broadcasts to keep citizens up to date on current events, but it always seemed pointless to Freya, as nothing new ever seemed to happen. They reviewed dull statistics about food rations and energy consumption, then made honorable mention of certain Security personnel. It was practically the same thing every time, yet the broadcasts were mandatory, and all citizens were expected to watch them. They were carried on all monitors, in Education Centers, homes, and even in walkways, demanding the attention of those in transit.
Freya’s father always praised the head of State after each broadcast. “How wonderful to have a leader who takes time from his busy schedule to address his people,” he proudly declared, but Freya never understood why her father thought so highly of the broadcasts. The reports seemed redundant and pointless, a waste of everyone’s time, but since most people seemed to feel the same way about the broadcasts as her father did, she chose to keep her opinions to herself.
The monitors always flashed first to alert everyone to get ready for the broadcast. Next, the emblem of the State—a five-pointed white star inside of a blue circle, with the head of a bald eagle facing to the right—it always appeared on the screen for a short time after the monitor stopped flashing. The broadcasts usually only had the head of State speaking—unless something particularly interesting was happening, which was rare. The head of State always gave the address sitting at his desk in his office which had a rather large emblem of the State hanging behind him.
This particular boring broadcast seemed to drag on forever, and her eyelids felt heavy. Her mind started to drift, wandering to her last test in agriculture. As she was trying to recall what questions she had answered incorrectly, the test questions in her thoughts began to blur together. Suddenly, the broadcast was over, and Freya had to shake her head a little to wake herself back up.
“They haven’t left us much time today,” said the instructor. “We will save Chapter 12 for our next session. For the remainder of class time, please quietly review Chapter 11.” She returned to her desk and began to work quietly on her own tablet.
Freya struggled to keep her eyes in focus on the tablet. She was quite surprised that the drugs made her so tired, as she could usually muster up some focus and concentration, even in history class. She finally accepted that there was no point in trying to read; staring at the screen and pretending to read was the best she could do. She let out a sigh of relief when the bell finally rang and hoped her mind would be a little clearer for the next class. Agriculture was, by far, her favorite subject. Between the schooling her parents had given at home and the time she’d spent at the Education Center, Freya had completed most of the State’s mandatory education. History was the only class she was still required to continue with, which had nothing to do with her assigned civil duty as an agriculturalist.
She went to the usual seat in the agricultural building and settled in, ready to learn more about soil.
“Good morning, class. Please take out your tablets,” the instructor said as soon as she walked into the room. She then dived right into the lesson.
Freya’s agriculture instructor wasn’t one for pleasantries, but she was still Freya’s favorite. The mind fog Freya had been feeling in the previous class was gone. She was fascinated by all facets of agriculture, so she perked up, in spite of the pain medication. She was so enthralled in her learning that she was barely aware of time passing; to her surprise, the theory segment was finished in what felt like no time at all.
“All right, class, it is time to put on gloves and aprons and begin our work in the greenhouse,” said the instructor. As the students began to shut down their tablets and pack up, the instructor asked, “Freya, may I have a word with you please?”
Freya instantly became nervous, wondering why a conference was required. She was the top student in the agriculture program, and she was sure she’d done nothing that would have gotten her in trouble. She hesitantly got up and walked toward the instructor’s desk.
“Freya, I’ve received notice that you are not to participate in anything of a physical nature this week. You are free to leave and take advantage of some free time, albeit you must abstain from any physical activity.”
Freya was speechless for a moment, taken aback. Why did they tell my instructor and not me? she wondered. The doctor didn’t say anything about physical activity. She looked at her instructor questioningly. “All week? I feel fine, and I don’t think of working with plants as being strenuous,” she said with a shrug. She knew that even asking the question could prove to be a slippery slope; she certainly didn’t mean to sound as if she was questioning the instructor’s authority, and she especially didn’t want to sound like she was questioning the decisions of the State. Nevertheless, neither the doctor nor the nurse had explained much about her procedure or what to expect after it. As she thought about it, she realized it shouldn’t have surprised her that her instructor was better informed than she was, as the entire society seemed to operate on a strict need-to-know basis. Although it did not surprise her, it did ignite a burning anger deep in her core. It was her body, yet whoever was making the decisions had decided that someone else had a right to know more about it than she did.
“I know how much you love those plants, Freya. You remind me so much of myself at your age,” the instructor said, then paused. “Still, we must obey the doctor’s orders.”
The instructor’s tone caught Freya a little off guard. It almost seemed affectionate, certainly not normal for any instructor, that one in particular. Once again, she found her head full of questions, yet there was no one to ask.
“Hurry along now, Freya. You will need more rest than usual now, as you’re healing. You are relieved from civil duty all week also.”
“Relieved from duty too?” Freya blurted. “What am I supposed to do with all that time?” The most amount of free time she’d ever had in one day was four hours, what the State felt was adequate for rest. Freya knew how others grumbled, wishing they had more free time, but she’d never empathized with them and had always wondered what they intended to do with all those wasteful hours. Some invited her to meet them during their free time, but she’d never really understood that either; she preferred to work on puzzles or work ahead in her lessons.
“
Oh, Freya,” her instructor chuckled, “that is probably why you have always been a top student. You don’t get distracted by frivolous things. I know it sounds like a lot of time off, but your body really does need the rest. I am sure the week will slip away quite quickly for you, once you learn to relax a little.”
Freya nodded and turned to finish packing up her education materials. She still had so many questions, but she knew that asking too much would only draw unwanted attention.
She began the trek to her apartment. It was only 14:00, and she had no idea what to do with herself. She mulled over possible activities as she walked. It was strange to be out walking when the corridors were deserted. When she was on her normal schedule, they were always bustling with people. Most citizens lived on similar schedules and headed to similar destinations, making their way to education facilities or their assigned civil duties.
Just as Freya was beginning to appreciate how peaceful and nice the abandoned hallway was, she caught sight of a young male sweeping the floor. “Hello,” he said with a smile. “How are you today?”
The casual greeting completely took Freya by surprise; never before had a male spoken to her merely for the sake of making conversation. She wasn’t entirely sure how to respond, so she just stood there, looking at him with a puzzled look on her face.
He continued to smile warmly, not at all disturbed by her coldness. “I’m Calix. What’s your name?”
“Uh, I’m… It’s, um…Freya,” she stuttered as her face flushed a little. There was something a bit odd about the way Calix looked at her, and she quickly became uncomfortable with their unexpected exchange. Looking directly at him didn’t feel right, so she decided it was better to avert her gaze to her feet.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Um Freya,” he teased. When she offered him no sort of response to his joke, he continued, “I haven’t seen you around before. Do you ever go down to the common rooms during meals or free time?”
This is completely absurd, Freya silently reasoned. Why is he asking about my meal habits?
Some citizens did visit common rooms, where they ate their meals and played games and puzzles after. In fact, many of her classmates did so, and they often whispered and giggled about the things that happened there, but it had always sounded completely pointless to Freya. She had gone a few times when she first moved there to start school, but she did not find the games as educational or interesting as those she could play by herself. The other girls seemed more interested in talking about the males, and they were never serious about the games, so Freya had no desire to spend her time there.
“Uh, no, I don’t,” she finally answered. “I don’t see the point, and the meals are no different than the ones they serve in my apartment.” She dared to look back up at him, figuring it was probably rude not to. She noted that Calix’s expression was now one of surprise, but he quickly recovered from that astonishment and resumed the odd way he had previously been looking at her.
“Well, perhaps I could help you see the point. You’re missing out on some really great games.” His eyes then traveled down her body and back up to her eyes.
Freya just stared at him. She had no idea why he had looked her up and down like that, but she certainly didn’t like it one bit.
“This is a transit area. Stopping may cause delays. Please proceed to your destination,” said a voice from the automated security system.
Freya exhaled a sigh of relief, thankful for once that Security had saved her by being intrusive. Without saying another word, she simply walked past the sweeper and continued on her way. As she walked, though, anger brewed deep within her. How dare he speak to me, hold me up, in a completely inappropriate area, outside of his designated free time? Her anger soon gave way to worries, and she hoped she wouldn’t be flagged and taken in for questioning. Her record was clean, and she wanted to keep it that way. It didn’t take much to be arrested, or so she had been told, and the people who were taken, often didn’t return.
Freya really didn’t understand his behavior, and that was the very reason she chose to take her meals alone. The State was responsible for coupling, so it didn’t matter if people liked those they met in their free time. Really, it all came down to psychological testing, not anything as flimsy and fragile as chance encounters or simple attraction. Coupling was an assignment, not a choice, much like a civil duty in its own right. Those chosen for reproduction were assigned appropriate partners, and the State also assigned those who were to be coupled without reproduction. All the unnecessary fraternization seemed like a waste of time. Freya just could not see the purpose in any of it, and she saw no reason to do anything without purpose.
While she would not voice her opinions aloud, she actually thought the State afforded citizens too much free time. There were two hours every night, and four hours on Sundays. What’s a person to do with all that time? she thought again as she arrived at her apartment building. Her thoughts drifted back to the male who’d been caught in the apartment building. That is exactly the type of thing that comes from having too much free time…and choosing to spend that time in those silly, pointless common rooms full of giggling girls and mindless games. Freya wanted no part of any of that, and she felt happy enough when she arrived at her apartment, scanned for her entry, put down her bag, and plopped down on the sofa. “Yep, this is all I need,” she thought to herself.
***
There were six hours remaining before bedtime. What on Earth am I supposed to do with myself until then? Freya wondered. She decided it best to change out of her education uniform and into free time wear. She looked at the pile of dirty laundry, one of her chores for the day; she was supposed to do laundry every Tuesday, after finishing at the Education Center, but her allotted time to use the machines had not yet come. She pulled out her tablet and sat down, hoping to find some sort of puzzle to keep her entertained. After some searching, she settled on Sudoku. That game was certainly not her favorite, but the State encouraged it as a way to keep one’s mind sharp.
Just as Freya was beginning to work out the numbers, she heard a knock at the door. She jumped in surprise, as visitors were not allowed in the apartments. “Hello?” she said hesitantly as she opened the door just a crack.
“Hi. I have been assigned to pick up laundry from this address,” the visitor explained.
“Uh… Why?” Freya asked, confused. As soon as she said it, she felt silly for having asked the question. It was obvious that the State had made the assignment, and no one second-guessed the State.
“I take all the laundry of citizens on medical rest. It’s my civil duty, miss,” the woman answered in a friendly tone.
Freya shrugged, figuring that the woman’s calm answer meant she’d been asked that same question many times before. Then, another thought occurred to her: Are there really so many people on medical rest that they need to assign their laundry to someone else? She looked inquisitively at the woman for a moment, then said, “Right. It’s over here.” She smiled sheepishly and motioned to the closet where the overflowing basket was kept.
The woman smiled politely back at her and moved toward the closet.
The curiosity of it all began to get the best of Freya, and while she knew it was not a good thing to pry, she simply couldn’t help herself. “So, uh… Lots of people need their laundry done?” It was not the most intelligent question, but she could not think of another way to ask about the woman’s civil duty.
“I get asked that a lot.” She gave Freya a knowing smile and explained, “There are not that many people on medical rest at the same time, but there is still a lot of laundry to be done. Hand towels from common restrooms, tablecloths and napkins from dining areas, bed linens from medical facilities—it all adds up.” The woman began to load the laundry into the sack she’d brought with her.
Freya had never put any thought into any of that, but it made perfect sense. She, like many others, had always taken the clean hand towels for granted in those public restrooms. Althou
gh she had not spent much time in the common rooms, she imagined the tablecloths and napkins piled up quite quickly.
The woman collected her bath towels, added them in the sack, and headed for the door. “These will be returned to the closet when finished. Have a good day, miss.” She then gave a slight nod, a pleasant grin, and headed toward the door.
“Wait! Um… I don’t mean to be rude, but can I ask, do you like doing laundry?” The words gushed out of her before she had time to think about what she was saying, but there was no taking them back.
The woman simply smiled again. “I get that one a lot, too, miss. Most people hate doing laundry, but I love it. I have since I was a little girl. I find folding laundry to be one of the most peaceful of activities. And the smell! Why, I just think it’s one of the best scents in the world.” She was wearing a far-off, serene look on her face, and Freya knew she was being completely genuine. She really did love her humble duty of washing clothes and linens, freshening things up for strangers who seldom noticed or appreciated her hard work. Rather than being a victim, some poor soul pummeled with a dull civil duty assignment, she took delight in her chores. In fact, her pretty smile never left her face as she lugged Freya’s dirty clothes out the door.
Compliant: A Young Adult Dystopian Romance (The State Series Book 1) Page 3
