Integration, prologue and chapters 1-3

This is a second draft, I know it still requires quite a bit of gramatical editing and am also planning to re-write a large portion of the prologue.  Mainly I want to know if there are any problems with my story telling style; too fast? too slow? too many unexplained gaps in the story?  Etc...  I'm still writing the book (first one I've written) and want to improve with each chapter.   



Prologue



         Jeron stepped out onto the podium, a massive crowd of humanity stretched out before him.  Most of the people cheered at the sight of him - dressed in full, bright, military splendor - while others stood quietly, and a few even dared to voice their displeasure with him – he would have those people  dealt with.  His clean and sparkling white military uniform stood out starkly among the gray, ash coated earth and clothing that colored almost everything outdoors.



         Jeron's voice was filled with confidence, why shouldn't it be?  He had just perfectly executed a military coup of the worlds most powerful government.  "My people, I greet you as your new emperor".  Emperor he thought, a term his people would have to become reacquainted with.  "I have brought down the cruel, corrupt and evil government which previously pretended to represent the wishes of the people of this nation.  And I shall institute a system that helps all the people in this time of great need and allows our nation to grow and prosper despite the difficulties of this age."



         Jeron did not really mean most of this, but he understood the need to reassure the people of Kioth.  They would find out the truth later, but by then, hopefully, it would be too late.  The truth was that after the geomagnetic reversal, and the massive volcanic eruptions that his scientist said were probably cause by this shift, the nations technological advances had been set back by decades and the nation could no longer support all these people – or so he believed.



         His brief pause to reminisce also allowed his words to be passed back by the crowd to those who could not here him.  Now he continued.  "We are in need of order and selflessness to recover from these dark times, for this reason we will be instituting a a temporary system to organize the people of this nation into communities and giving them land on which they can farm until starvation is no longer a threat.  Food will be provided as needed to help these communities get back on their feet.  I emphasize, these measures will only be temporary, but they are essential survive and proper following the devastation caused by the geomagnetic shift – that is the north pole becoming the south pole and the south becoming the north – and the volcanic eruptions around the world that followed the shift".



         Cheers mostly followed his words and Jeron quickly ended his speech.  He has said all that really needed to be said to reassure the people and to get them to voluntarily follow the measures he would be instituting.  "We must survive this time together and help each other as much as possible, the previous government failed to provide adequate help, but under my leadership we will institute all possible measures to restore our nation.  For that reason I ask for your full cooperation and support of the measures we will begin instituting within the hour." 



         With that Jeron waved to the crowd, then turned and walked into the two story white building that stood behind him.  The white stood out starkly among the gray ash that covered most of the ground, as well as the people.  Most people did not have the man power to clear ash from any buildings, but he did and the white building served to remind people of his power.



         The new policies that Jeron instituted pulled people from their homes and put them into consolidated communities.  These consolidated communities were the placed in areas with supplies of fresh water, good farm land and where possible other valuable natural resources that could supplement the peoples incomes.  Over several years the military as well as the people erected walls or fencing to protect themselves from starving wild animals and roaming marauders who for one reason or another had not been brought into the communities. 



         These walls eventually served to keep the people in, rather then keeping people and animals out.  The military manned these walls to prevent escape, and even as the world recovered from the devastation, the "temporary" measures had become permanent. 



         "But we are not trapped, we live outside these walls.  And that is why the government hunts us".  He looked at each person in the teepee as he ended the story.  Four of them huddled there, none more then a child.  He remembered hearing the story numerous times from his parents, they used it  explanation of why they must be so careful to remain unseen.  Now he had become the story-teller, but the reasons for telling the story remained the same.



         "Wouldn't it be better if we moved into the permanent compound?"  Asked Lya, a small girl of eight years asked.  "We would be safe and we wouldn't have to worry about being hunted by Jeron's empire".



         He looked at her seriously, only their silhouettes visible in the dark of the teepee, which was lit only by moonlight coming in through the two windows.  His dark brown eyes showed a maturity rarely seen in a teen of sixteen years, not that any of his siblings would know it, they had seen very few people besides the small group that formed their village - if it could be called that.  Tribe might be a better word for it thought he, they moved too often for it to be a real village.  "We would be safe from the empires hunters it is true, but we would not be safer.  The few people we have encountered who managed to escape from the compounds tell stories of the old and the weak being beaten, or even killed if they are unable to perform valuable labor.  It is slavery and nothing more." 



         They had asked other questions, but none as important as that one.  He knew that every member of their tribe had to understand the reasons for their constant caution.  All it would take was one person making a mistake due to lack of caution, - or worse voluntarily going to the empires hunters - for their entire tribe to be caught and enslaved.



         They began to ask him for different stories.  His youngest brother of six years, Pilo, wanted the story of Goldilocks.  Lya wanted to here the stories that the escapees they had encountered had told to the tribe.  Jito, his dark skinned adopted brother of twelve wanted stories about all the places they had visited during their travels.  And his oldest sister, Kata, who at eleven, with her long dark brown locks of hair would have drawn the stares of all the boys in a few years - if only there had been any around to look – did not want any stories, she was of the opinion he knew, that she'd already heard everything he had to tell.



          "No more stories tonight." He said, declining their request.  "It's time to go to sleep, we'll be waking up with the sun tomorrow and you'll need your energy, as there will be plenty to do." 



         There was a little grumbling from his siblings, but not much.  They knew from experience, that if they complained and asked for me stories tonight, He wouldn't tell them a story tomorrow night.

         

         He lay down to sleep as well.  He and his siblings all shared this small teepee, with barely enough room for them to all lie down in.  During cold nights like tonight, this had the benefit of providing a comfortable heat.  And in times of heat, well then many of them slept outdoors.  As he drifted off to sleep he continued to think on the times Before – as he thought of them.



         He had only vague memories of back before the government integration, memories of a happy and carefree childhood, but he now knew that his memories do not reflect the reality of that time.  His parents lived in constant worry, that is in fact why how they managed to avoid the integration process, which had been forced upon eveyone by the government.  But those memories did include luxuries now unknown, which was a large part of why he cherished them.  He recalled the house his family had lived in, considered of about average size at the time, but huge in comparison to the concealed teepee his family now lived in.  He also fondly recalled electricity, which had allowed them to stay up late into the night and which had made all manner of tasks easier.



         That had all changed now.  his memories just served to emphasize how big that change had been.  Evenings are dark now, dark and quiet.  Electricity was no longer available and even his youngest siblings had cautioned instilled into their every action.  Darkness and quiet had become close friends for him and his family.



Chapter 1.  Debbie, Government school #17.



         Debbie sat at her plain brown desk, working intently at her drawing of a large bear standing in a serene forest.  Another part of her mind listened to and processed the the teacher lecturing the class.  Except for the scratching of pen, or pencil, on paper, the room was silent.  It was full of children around her age, sixteen, all dressed in neat and tidy uniforms.  The girls all wore long brown skirts, which was unfortunate, as Debbie hated skirts, and plain green t-shirts.  The boys wore the same colors, but wore either pants or shorts in place of skirts.  Most of them wore shorts, though the year had begun to cool and fall was right around the corner.  The teacher, Helen, also wore a skirt, but it was a deep red, denoting her status.



         "Parentage is a concept that had been widely embraced around the world, but now it is virtually unknown."  Said Helen, the sociology teacher, a rotund middle aged women.  "Parents hinder education, this was realized long ago, as early as the 1960's.  To counter the impact of parents schools increased hours and began taking kids at a younger age, but the kids still were not testing at acceptably high levels.  Finally, fifteen years ago parents and homes were completely removed from the equation, this was of course after the government had begun to collapse and President Jeron took control." 



         Debbie looked up from her drawing and focused on the teachers words, this sounded important. 



         "What other benefits did institutionalizing child raising have for society?"  Helen asked, looking around the room for raised hands.  Several children had their hands up, hers among them.  She didn't particularly care to contribute, but if she did now chances are she wouldn't be called upon randomly later.

         

         "Healthy and safe living conditions for all children."  Said one, a large – though not overweight, any child who was overweight was placed on force diet until they had lost the weight - blond girl who she thought was named Koryan. 



         "Equality for all children!"  Said another.  Another text book answer.  She thought.



         "More and better focused attention – in a standard situation parents often aren't around to provide their child with the attention or care that they need".  Said a third.



         Helen pointed to her.  "A constantly monitored and controlled environment that allows children to act independently without taking risks.”  she said, while privately adding.  And also prevents them from growing up to become anything more then mindless drones.

         

         Debbie had been taken from her parents at the age of six and remembered, unlike many on the children who surrounded her, what it was like to feel real parental affection and what real freedom felt like.



         "All correct.”  Helen congratulated them.  “It is a horror to think that children were once raised by almost anyone, the only criteria for selection process was based upon parentage.  With parents often untrained in proper education and care-giving, it is no wonder that efforts failed up until parents were completely removed from the equation."  Continued Helen, her voice growing more intent – this was definitely going to be on a test.  "Now children are removed from their parents care immediately after birth and cared for by professionally trained nurses, caregivers and teachers."



         Debbie thought of her own parents, she had only vague memories of them.  They had lived with her somewhere outside the compound she knew, they must have lived a hidden life, on the run.  They must have disagreed with these teachings, but she wasn't entirely sure why.  Logically someone who's entire life was devoted to the raising of children would do better then any parents – who would have only very limited experience.  Some sense told her the logic was wrong, but she couldn't define it.  She wondered how her parents would have responded, they clearly had not agreed with giving her up to be raised in the compound.

         

         Debbie knew that she was one of only three students who had been raised by their parents and the only one who had been old enough to remember her parents before being captured (though they would call it being saved).  As such she felt that it was her responsibility to stand up for the viewpoint of her parents, that they and not the state should raise children.  She didn't want to get Helen mad though, so she asked an open ended question.



         “Ms. Helen, if this policy is so just, why do some parents disagree?”  She asked.  Then clarified further  “Why do they attempt to hide themselves and their children from the state in order to raise them themselves?”



         Helen turned her head slowly to look at Debbie and fixed her with a penetrating stare.  Debbie  looked down, not meeting Helen's gaze, doing her best to make herself look innocent, the question nothing but harmless curiosity.  I hope I phrased the question well enough to avoid trouble, Debbie thought.  Questioning the authority of the state or any of the teachers was strictly forbidden and would be punished – sometimes severely.  Debbie had been on the receiving end of a few of these punishments in the past and they were not pleasant. 



         Finally, Helen looked away, apparently deciding the question meant as innocent curiosity.  “You will find that some people in this world hold to ancient and extremist views.  These are generally accepted to be crazy by modern thinkers.  One of their views, as Debbie points out is that a child's parents and not the state should be responsible for providing them with care.  But as I have already pointed out this leads to dangers because many parents are poorly qualified for caring for a child.  And it also creates inequality in society from the very beginning of a child’s life – a child of poor or unskilled parents is at a significant disadvantage to those of a wealthy and educated parent.”  Helen paused, her gaze sweeping the room.  Debbie felt that it rested slightly longer on her than it had on any other child though.  “If you encounter any person who holds to this extremist view on parentage, or to any other ancient views that we have discussed or will be discussing throughout your education.  It is you moral and legal responsibility to report them to authorities.  They are likely to be unsafe and potentially harmful and may need to be confined to a mental hospital until they are cured.”



         Debbie had been studiously taking notes, but was upset by Helen's implication.  “My parents weren't mentally unstable”.  She spoke before she thought and immediately regreted her words: they were true, but they were also likely to get her in trouble.



         Helen did not look at her as she replied.  “Your parents were mentally unstable Debbie, that is why they were confined to work camps, do not dilude yourself.”



         They moved on to other subjects and for a while Debbie hoped that she would avoid trouble.  But as the bell rang, Helen called to her.  “Debbie please stay after class for a minute.”



         The other uniformed students filed out, some glacing at her as they walked by, most of these glances were of contempt, some of commiseration.  Finally, it was just Debbie and Helen in the room and Debbie chose to wait until that time to stand from her desk, the drawing of a bear tucked away neatly in a pocket of her back-pack.



         Helen's look was one of anger, Debbie thought, and Helen silently kept that look until Debbie had come to stand before her.  Finally, Helen spoke.  “Debbie, I have tried to be lient with you, I know you fancy yourself a bit of a rebel and I have let that slide.  But today, you went to far.  I will be speaking to the principle about you and I expect, he will be calling you to his office for a meeting sometime in the near future.          





Chapter 2.  Kyon



         The teepee was small and cramped, barely able to hold all five of them laying down.  Within Kyon rose and stretched, being careful not to bump into his still sleeping siblings.  The dull light of the early morning sun was barely visible through the brown cloth covering the entrance.



         "Time to get up".  He said loudly, as he opened the door cover of the teepee.  His words, and the light of the sun that had just started to rise coming in the open door had the desired affect.  All four of them woke quickly, groaning but slowly getting to their feet.



         "I don't want to get up".  Pilo grumbled, not moving from his bed –  a pile of rags on the hard dirt floor. 



         "You got plenty of sleep".  Kyon said, gently prodding his youngest brother.  "That's why I made you go to bed so early".  Although, thought Kyon, with no sources of light other then the sun, sundown was a natural time to go to sleep.



         "But I couldn't sleep."  Pilo replied, but now he was getting up from the ground.  "Kata snores and so does Jito, I can't sleep through the noise."



         "You snores drown out everyone elses".  Replied Kata good-naturedly as the five of them made their way to their parents teepee.  "I don't believe you can hear a thing through them."



         He looked jealously at his parents teepee which was larger then the one that house him and his four siblings.  It was about fifteen feet in diameter - slightly larger then their own - and contained both a bedroom and a small kitchen.  The teepee was made from animal skins stretched over long wooden poles, in the style of old native American teepees.  He saw a small plume of smoke rising from the center of the teepee, that meant his parents were already awake and working.



         He pushed aside the cloth flap that covered the teepees entrance and held it open as his siblings quickly moved inside.  Lastly, he entered the teepee himself and secured the covering behind himself.  The hazards of another person viewing the flame had been instilled into him since he was a baby, although it seemed unlikely now he still took care to minimize any risks.



         His mother, Maurine turned from her cooking as they entered.  "Good morning".  She said cheerfully, looking them over.  “How are you all?”



         He started to reply, but Pilo beat him to it.  “Tired.”  Was all he said.



         “Well how about some work to wake you up.”  She replied, making it a statement instead of a question.  "Your fathers already out working in the garden, why don't you two do join him".  She said, pointing to Pilo and Kata in turn.  "Lya you'll stay here to finish up the cooking with me, Kyon and Jito can split some wood."



         He nodded in reply to his mother and walked to the far side of the teepee to grab two axes, one for himself and one for Jito.  The axes each had large bright orange strips of cloth tied to their handles.  This was to allow them to be found more easily if they were ever left out, although the strict adherence and enforcement of the rule of always returning objects to their proper location was effective in preventing most objects from getting lost.  These axes were the only two they had, and while the handles were replaceable, the medal ax heads were not.



         Jito had already exited the tent and he moved to join him.  As he left the tent he heard Pilo wheedling.  "Mother I don't want to go to the garden, can't I stay here and help you cook?" 



         As he and Jito walked to the wood pile behind the house he heard his mother reply.  "No Jito you can't, you helped me yesterday and we rotate chores, one day you may need to know how to do everything we do here, not just how to cook.  Now go join you father and tell him breakfast will be ready in an hour". 



         He wondered if he'd been as bad as Pilo when he was young.  Pilo probably would have complained if he'd been assigned kitchen duty today, thought.  Pilo was constantly unhappy with anything he was told to do.  Maybe it came from being the youngest, or maybe everyone had a stage in their life where there complained.  I was never that bad though, he thought to himself.  But he did distinctly remember a time when Jito had complained at least as much as Pilo.



         The wood pile was about fifty feet behind their parents teepee.  Logs of all shapes, sizes and of all types of wood were precariously stacked on several old rotten logs.  He estimated it to be approximately five feet long by five feet wide, but it was only stacked a couple feet high.  "This piles almost done".  He stated to his brother.  "You know what that means."



         "Yeah".  Replied Jito frowning slightly.  "It means we are going to have to carry the wood even farther soon". 



         He nodded in reply.  Each year they created a large number of wood piles, this allowed the wood to age and also provided them with a constant supply.  However, there was only so much wood available, especially since they used downed trees, rather then fell trees themselves.  The piles were scattered throughout the woods, but they got successively farther away from their home with each pile that was used up.



         This wood pile was relatively nearby.  It sat on the edge of the small clearing that contained both the teepees that made up their home.  It also lay close by to the small creek which provided a constant source of fresh water.  Behind it lay a forest with dense undergrowth, the oldest trees were probably only fifty years of age.  And while they provided a shaded canopy below them, the forest was not yet old enough for the dense undergrowth to have been shaded out. 



         They chopped wood for about an hour.  He enjoyed the work, he took pride in his speed and strength and chopping wood was good exercise.  He also smugly noted that he had chopped quite a bit more wood then Jito, and despite that still had quite a bit more energy if Jito's slow and labored movement could be judged from.



         "I think that's about enough".  He said, and Jito's relieved expression told him clearly that Jito was quite tired.  "Why get the cart and we can start piling these in, I'll chop a few more logs then join you". 



         Jito nodded and walked off to grab the cart, which was stored back over by the teepee.  He watched Jilo go while continuing to split logs.  Jito went briefly into the teepee, then came out again and grabbed the cart.  The cart was made entirely of wood, hand-fashioned by his father.  It was sturdily built but unwieldy to move.  Still Jito got it to the wood pile without to much effort, lugging it over small bumps and lifting and turning the front when it got of line.  They'd all had years of practice at handling the wagon.



         As he arrived Jito called to him.  "Breakfast will be ready in about five minutes.  Let's take one load over then we can eat."



         "Let's get the cart loaded quickly then."  He agreed, glancing hungrily towards the teepee, from which the scent of cooking food had been seeping all morning.  Now that the morning light had come in full, he could no longer see smoke rising from the cook fire.  He hadn't noticed when it stopped, but he guessed the fire had been out for around half an hour already.  Smoke was visible from a long distance during the day and they didn't want to risk being spotted.



         They quickly filled the cart with logs and hauled it across the field to the small pile of split logs next to the teepee.  The wagon was even more cumbersome when fully loaded, but between the two of them the had little problem.  They quickly transferred the logs from the wagon to the wood pile and went inside.



         Their mother and Lya had already filled the wooden plates with food – deer jerky, eggs from their ducks and various greens.  They each grabbed a plate and went outside to eat – the teepee would quickly grow uncomfortably tight with more then a couple inside of it.



         That sat down to eat outside, wooden stumps served as chairs and their father, Rhyon, had made a small square wooden table for them to eat at.  It could comfortably hold four people and could fit all seven of them if they squeezed.  Currently if was just four though as Rhyon, Kata and Pilo had yet to return from the garden. 



         Eating was a family affair, not that the entire family was always there.  But it was a time for talk and discussion, planning for the days work or planning for future improvements. 



         "What do you two plan to do today?"  Their mother asked, looking at Jito and him curiously.  He knew from experience that she would tell them when something needed done.  But she also gave them the independence to plan most of their own day as long as their work benefited the family and the chores that absolutely needed done, got done.



         He ate and listened as Jito replied."I'm going to work on the wild pig pens."  Said Jito.  He loved working with animals, when he was five he had domesticated the ducks when he found chicks and fed them.  Those ducks now lived on the river, but still came to them for food and provided eggs – though it could take a lot of hunting to find them.  At nine he had found baby rabbits and made a fence to keep them from escaping, those rabbits now provided them with a reliable source of meat.  Now he wanted to go bigger, wild pigs were direct descendents of domesticated pigs and one of the few domesticated animals that had excelled without human care.  Occasionally they would kill a wild one for its meat and Jito hoped that they could kill a wild sow and take her babies to raise.  But first he had to build a fence that could stand up to the force of a pig and that fence was his current project.



         Kyon thought that Jito's animal projects were interesting, but was not nearly as excited by them as Jito was.  Plus he knew Jito enjoyed the independence of having his own project, he knew Jito would decline all assistance, although Jito would come to one of them for help if he got stuck.  His own interest's lay in hunting and exploring, he enjoyed the solitude and the opportunity to wonder far from home and see new sites.  As well as the adrenaline and excitement of a hunt.



         “We're running low on meat aren't we?”  Kyon asked looking to his mother.  He thought it to be the case, but his mother kept detailed stock of all their food. 



         “Yes.”  His mother confirmed with a nod.



         “Then I think I'll go hunting today.”  Kyon said, trying to hide his excitement, it had been several weeks since his last hunting expedition. 



         “Why don't you go get your father, Kata and Pilo on the way.”  Said Maurine.  “They should be here soon anyway, but maybe somethings held them up that you can help with”.  Without clocks, time had become a very loose concept and it wasn't uncommon for people to arrive late to meals.  But they had been eating for about forty-five minutes and the lack of smoke should have informed his father and two siblings that breakfast was ready. 



         “I'll do that”.  Kyon said agreeably.  “I want to check on the honey locust and spice-bush I transplanted there in the winter anyway.  I might be able to tell if they've survived by now”.  Plants could be annoying, you would move them and then might have to wait weeks or even months to know if they'd survived.  It was late spring now though and if any of the plants he'd moved were going to leaf out they would have done so by now.”



         As Kyon walked to the garden he marveled at home undisturbed the forest around him seemed.  The only signed of human habitation away from their small clearing were the piled logs, but even these were covered in brush to disguise them.  The garden itself was a forest garden, an idea his father – a former hippy – had learned before the military coup.  When it had been just his father and mother, and Kyon was a very young child, his father had killed some plants and encouraged others to grow over a wide swath of land, revisiting each area every year or two.  Once they settled down about ten years ago go, his father had gone into the forest garden project with full force and now had an area of about ten acres that contained almost solely beneficial plants and enough food to provide for the whole family. 



         As Kyon arrived at the garden he quickly surveyed it, but didn't see his father or two siblings.  What he did see was a forest full of greenery, in the full growth of late spring.  It took a trained eye to recognize that the forest was managed by humans.  Trees filled the garden, but they were fruit or nut trees.  Below them were small trees growing to fill canopy gaps that had been created by fallen trees, or would be created when they chopped down a non-beneficial tree for lumber.  Below the trees were small trees and shrubs – apples, crab apples, spicebush, persimmons, mulberries and many others.  Below these were shade tolerant plants – asparagus, rhubarb, gooseberries, currants and more.  And here and there plants that preferred sunlight thrived in small fields or canopy gaps that had been created to give the sunlight a way into the forest.  It looked nothing like the monocultural fields that had provided almost all the worlds food in the past.



         Kyon pulled his mind away from admiring the forest and called out.  “Father!, Kata!, Pilo!”.  Then stood still, listening for a reply, but he heard nothing.  He walked slowly on, pausing every fifty or one-hundred feet to listen again.  As he continued to hear no reply he began to worry, perhaps something had drawn them away from the garden.  They would have passed him on the path though if they'd headed back to the clearing. 



         A branch cracked in the forest as if something large had stepped on it.  Kyon head snapped around staring in the direction of the sound.  Only a large animal could have produced a sound that loud - a boar or a bear.  Maybe it had forced his father and siblings to leave the forest a hurry with no regard to direction.



         As Kyon listened he heard more sounds, leaves crunching and smaller twigs snapping.  He slowly backed away - not wanting to startle the creature into attack - if his father had been force to flee then Kyon would have to leave to.  But as he backed up he caught a glimpse of cloth and the gleam of mete.  It was a person... But not a person he recognized.



         The man stepped out of the undergrowth and leveled the metal cylinder – which Kyon assumed was a gun, he had vague memories of seeing his fathers gun when he was young and had heard descriptions from his parents – at Kyon and pulled the trigger.  Kyon fell to the ground with a crash , his body lay still and motionless.



         



Chapter 3.  Lance Smithson, assistant security adviser, government school #17.



         Lance Smithson walked quickly and confidently down the whitewashed hallway.  The hallway was clean and polished and the complete lack of decor gave an observer an aura of strict functionality.  He stopped at the door bearing the placard of Head Security officer William Herald and knocked briskly.  He stood motionless outside the door, then entered as Chief Herald opened the door and ushered him inside. 

         

         “Smithson”.  Said Chief Herald emotionlessly, all the greeting he ever gave.  Herald was a large and beefy man, though Smithson knew from experience that Herald was far more muscle then fat.  He was dressed in uniform and boots that nearly sparkled, Smithson believed Herald, washed, polished and ironed the various parts of the uniform every night.  Herald carried no weapon, that was common as he did not need one for his job as head of security.



         “Chief”.  Replied Smithson, trying to keep his tone as emotionless as Chief Herald's, and failing by letting a hint of curiosity enter it.  Smithson berated himself mentally for letting emotion enter his own voice, but also noted that he was at least twenty years Herald's junior, so he had time to practice.  He'd be better then Herald in twenty years.  Assuming he survived twenty years.  “What's up?”  Smithson knew Herald wasn't one for wasting time on formalities.



         Herald didn't disappoint, he turned his attention from Smithson and pointed to a large screen on the office wall.  The screen served as a large visual display for the computer and monitor on Herald's desk.  The desk was, as usual, so clean it seemed a little surreal.  The was little paper on the desk, and that was arranged into neat stacks.  It was nothing like Smithson's own cluttered office.  Herald's voice pulled Smithson's eyes quickly away from the desk and back to the screen. 



         The screen displayed an image of a teenage boy, sixteen or seventeen Smithson guessed, lying unconscious on a small mat in a metallic room.  The boy was thin but lean, corded muscles indicating that he lived a life of hard work.  He was shirtless and his pants were ragged and made out of a material that Smithson didn't recognize.  The boys skin was a deep tan, but Smithson guessed it would be pretty light if not for the constant exposure to sunlight. 

         

         “This boy”.  Herald pointed to the screen.  “Was recently brought into the school, he and his family were outsiders picked up during a raid on a nearby rebel stronghold.  We do not believe they were part of the rebel group, just unfortunate enough to have been living nearby, but we will be monitoring him for subversive activity nonetheless.  You will be the lead observer of the boy and any of his contacts and report any activity back to me.”



         Smithson nodded to show Herald he'd heard and continued to look at the boy.  “His name?”



         “That is currently unknown”.  Herald responded.



         “The rest of his family?”  Was Smithson's next question, he wanted to get a feel for the boy.  Understand him and his motivations as best he could.  That might make it easier to predict and understand his future actions. 



         “We got the mother, father and four of his siblings.  He is the eldest of the siblings and the most likely to cause problems.  He is the only one of the siblings to have been placed in our school.  The mother and father have been determined to be irreparable and have been placed in work camps”.



         Standard procedure for outsiders who were caught, Smithson thought dryly.  Separate the family, keep a watch on the kids and keep the mother and father imprisoned until they collapsed into an early grave.  Smithson was considered somewhat of an expert on potential subversives, so it was no surprise he had been chosen for this job.  He had after all once been an outsider himself, brought in at around age nine.  He had shown no outward subversive behavior though and had graduated school with good marks and then quickly moved up the ranks of the security organization. 



         “I will need their information sent to my files and so I can review it.  I would also like to review the boys questioning so I can get a feel for him.”  Smithson said to Herald, his voice completely flat. 



         “It has already been sent to you”.  Herald replied.



         Smithson wasn't surprised, it's not like he'd had the option to refuse the job.  Though sometimes he did wonder what would happen if someone ever told Herald no.  A very quick and possibly bloody end to that persons career.  Smithson guessed as he left Herald's office.