One

Chance woke up on a Thursday. That was reasonable enough: yesterday was Wednesday, tomorrow Friday.

Thursday seemed the right place to be.

He stretched his trim body with a small yawn, fingers brushing the doorframe as he walked to his antechamber. His clothes were already selected and neatly placed on a low table against one wall. They fit him perfectly, breathable fabrics designed for the maximum of comfort. They didn’t last long, but Chance didn’t know that: if they started to look abraded or worn, they were replaced. He had never worn anything of a lower quality to compare them to.

Looking over the itinerary that lay next to his clothes, he saw that Swimming would start the day, then breakfast; Tennis before lunch; then he had to fast, as it was his birthday. Everyone fasted on their birthday, to focus the mind for meditation and contemplation, which meant he got to skip classes this afternoon. I’ll pay extra attention today, he thought. It was, after all, his last day of school.

The change room was filled with a dozen students his age, but years of practice meant they could all move easily to their small storage lockers, quickly stripping naked and folding everything into the neat cubicles before walking to the pool. Swimming was never one of his favourite classes when he first started them; he heard a lot of older students really liked it, but if he asked one why, they’d just look at each other and smile and said "you’ll see!" But he didn’t see, because he much preferred tennis, or running, or anything that let them go outside under the sun. He even liked the rain - it was water that didn’t try to get up his nose, unlike the stuff in the pool.

He found out what they were laughing at when his growing pains started. He thought it wasn’t a very funny joke at all until they eased again a long time later; then he realized just how funny it was when a younger student asked him why he liked swimming so much, and he said "You’ll see!"

The pool room was bright, the sun shining through the tall windows looking out to the tennis courts. There were other students out there now, the same age as Chance and his classmates, and he slowed down to look for a face he’d seen many times before. Fortune was easy to spot - dark skin and an explosion of black hair sticking out of a purple shirt - and he always found her, but some days she was farther away and some days closer. Right now the students were gathered together and listening to Mister Lemke give them instructions for the day. He was a pretty hard teacher, and always made sure the students were as tired as he could get them after ninety minutes. Fortune paid him close attention, so Chance stopped and waited for him to stop speaking in case...

Yes! The class split up to different courts and she took the opportunity to look up at the windows. He waved frantically, knowing that on bright days it was tougher to see through the glass when you were outside. She spotted him and waved back, and seeing her smile made him feel somehow brighter. Ritual complete, he hurried to the water and started his laps. He was a tiny bit late, but he knew better than to run: a few months ago when Fortune didn’t look up until he had been standing waiting for her for almost three and a half minutes (he’d timed it) he hurried to get started on his laps and slipped a bit. He didn’t fall or anything, but one of the teachers saw him and yelled at him for being stupid, so he didn’t do it again. But he did make sure to walk closer to the pool before looking outside from then on.

He thought about Fortune as he swam. It was weird; or, no. Not weird, but weird that it wasn’t weird. Did that even make sense? He had always liked talking to her, but lately when he did he felt better afterward. He liked talking to Lucky, too, and he was great; but when he said goodbye to Fortune and she smiled at him he felt... kinda... bouncy.

Then Chance got yelled at again because he had swum almost diagonally across the pool instead of up and down it and made a bunch of people stop or go around him so they wouldn’t collide and now they were watching him get yelled at. Again. He apologized to the teacher and to everyone else and swam back to his lane. He would just have to wait until breakfast to think about Fortune. He’d even have someone to talk to her about.

"Bouncy? Seriously? You feel bouncy?"

So maybe Lucky wasn’t the best person to talk to; but he was Chance’s best friend and there wasn’t a lot they didn’t talk about, so why not Fortune?

"Bouncy," Lucky said. He speared a carrot on his plate and hopped it to Chance’s. "Boing boing boing, bouncy! Wee!" Chance grabbed the carrot and popped it into his mouth, crunching it to the sound of Lucky’s tiny screams of anguish. "What does that even mean? Bouncy?"

"I don’t know, do I?" said Chance. "I just like talking to her. A lot."

"Sounds like you like not talking to her more."

"Huh?"

"I quote: ’after we talk, I feel I dunno, bouncy’. After. Means you’re done talking. Sure it’s not relief?"

"Shut up and eat your carrots," Chance said.

"I can do that," said Lucky, and proved it. "You should eat more yourself. Last day and all." Chance knew Lucky was graduating today, naturally enough. He was scheduled to leave the day after Chance, and they both assumed whatever happened they’d tell each other about it afterward, compare notes. No one made a big deal of finishing school, neither teachers nor students, so they didn’t worry about it either. It’s just something that happens to everyone, like growing pains.

Fortune was scheduled to graduate two weeks from now. Chance wondered how long a gap that was, in the outside world. He wondered if that would be too late, even if he didn’t know what she would be graduating too late for.

Chance had a good volley going with Lucky when he noticed Mister Lemke signaling them to stop. Lucky caught Chance’s retun in one hand.

"I would have had you," he called.

"You’re down 15-40," Chance replied. "And two sets!"

"The beginning of a beautiful comeback!"

"Then try it against Will," said Mister Lemke. "You can keep your score, and if you beat him he’ll run your laps for you next time I catch you goofing off."

"Yes!"

"And if you don’t, you’ll run twice as many."

"Aw, man!"

The teacher walked Chance to the sidelines as another student took his place against Lucky.

"He wouldn’t have beat me," Chance said.

"He might have," said Mister Lemke, "he’s always been better than you. Please sit down." Chance sat quietly on the bench and they watched Lucky fire two aces in a row against Will.

"Looks like Lucky’s going to get off the hook," said Chance. The instructor shrugged.

"Ah, he’s only here for another week any way; even he can’t get in that much trouble. Will can use the exercise. He’s got another month yet." They watched as Lucky’s next two serves went straight into the net. "This is your last day here, isn’t it?"

"Yes, sir." Chance was confused by the question: Mister Lemke obviously knew when everyone’s graduation was, including his.

"Did you want to know anything about it? What happens? Where you go? What’s in the world outside here?"

Chance had occasionally tried to imagine life outside the school, but he had never succeeded. All he could picture was more of the same, just bigger. A bigger building with more rooms, a bigger courtyard, more people. But he knew that he was being asked for a reason, so tried to think of an appropriate response. Nothing came to him.

"Not really sir, no."

Mister Lemke leaned forward until his elbows rested on his knees.

"Nothing, Chance? Nothing at all?"

Chance tried to think of something different, but ended up shaking his head.

"Sorry, sir. Nothing at all."

Mister Lemke quickly frowned, then nodded once and stood up, extending one hand.

"Well, then. You’d best head back to your room and get ready for meditation. Doctor Hoggestrom will let you know whatever you want to then." Chance stood, and shook his teacher’s hand. "Do good, Chance. I’ll see you later, I’m sure."

They smiled at each other, then Chance walked back to the building. The sun must have moved since this morning, he thought. It was impossible to see into the dining room now.

There was a note on Chance’s desk. Instead of going to the meditation room today, he was supposed to go see Doctor Hoggestrom in his office first. It was different, but that wasn’t a surprise: Chance assumed that the was going to get some kind of preperation for what happens after graduation. Hopefully, it meant he could eat sooner! He hated going six hours without food, especially if he was awake for most of it.

He gave the room a final look, idly picturing another student in it. As far as he could imagine, it wouldn’t make any difference at all: there was nothing in it that was ’his’ any way, and it’s not like whoever came next was going to paint the walls or bring in new furniture. He couldn’t think of a single day that particularly stood out from any other. There must have been one - when he first moved in, for instance - but it didn’t come to mind. He doubted today would either.

He went to his appointment, dressed in the same clothes he had been wearing all day. A new set hadn’t been put out for him, so he didn’t see a reason to change.

Chance walked to Doctor Hoggestrom’s office immediately. He found that the less he thought about meditation day, the easier it was on his stomach. He didn’t like being hungry, but it was easier to ignore once meditation started, so the sooner the better!

Unfortunately, that meant he arrived outside the doctor’s office earlier than he intended, and much earlier than his appointment. He stood outside it, wondering if he should knock or not. He didn’t see the doctor often, but when he did the man was always busy talking to the teachers or other staff rather than the students. Chance decided to wait.

No one passed him as he waited in the hall, and his mind wadered: what was coming next? Was he going to another institution like this one, with instructors and exercises and classes for him to follow? If not, what else could it be? He thought of his friends, and whether he would ever see them again: Fortune, or Lucky, or even Will.

Lost in thought, Chance jumped a litte when the door suddenly opened and Doctor Hoggestrom was there.

“Ah, Chance. We were wondering where you had gotten yourself off to. Did you just arrive?” He stood aside and waved Chance into a small room with a couch and a couple chairs in it.

“Yes, sir,” Chance said. No need to tell him that Chance had been waiting for several minutes in the hall.

Doctor Hoggestrom frowned sharply.

“Then you were late for your appointment. Not a good way to finish up your time here, that.” Chance suddenly felt afraid of what he would say, and what effect that might have on whatever happened next. “You could have waited in here, but I suppose it’s a bit late to tell you that now.” He walked to a door across from the entrance and opened it.

This next room was much brighter, and Chance blinked a couple times to let his eyes adjust. There was a large mirror along one wall of it, and a table, and two chairs. Doctor Hoggestrom sat in one of the chairs.

“Please do close the door behind you,” he said. “And have a seat.” Chance did as he was asked. There were two other doors leading out, but didn’t bother thinking of them as the doctor opened a drawer and pulled a couple sheets of paper out, putting them on the desk in front of him. He looked them over and started talking.

“This is twenty-one fourty-five,” he said, “coliquially known as ’Chance’. Confirmed excellent health, no adverse effects reported during his time here.”

That sounded positive, Chance thought. Being healthy had to be better than being sick, after all. Doctor Hoggestrom looked up from the papers.

“I presume that’s correct, Chance? Nothing new to report on your last day, is there?”

“No, sir.”

“Good, good. I do have a few questions to ask you before you leave today, and I would like you to answer them as honestly as possible.”

Chance was confused, by that insistence. How else were you supposed to answer questions?

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now: how have you liked your time spent here at the institution, Chance?”

“It’s been...” Chance wasn’t sure what to say. He wanted to give an honest answer, but he didn’t know quite what he was being asked. “I’ve been healthy,” he said, hoping that would be adequate.

“Yes,” said the doctor, “I’ve seen that. I think more, uh...” he waved his hands slightly. “More your sense of well-being. Were there parts you didn’t like, some bits you liked more than others, that sort of thing.” Doctor Hoggestrom shifted in his seat, leaning backward and tapping a pen on his teeth.

Chance was at a loss. He wasn’t sure what he expected from this interview before he came to it, but he thought it would be about looking forward to what was coming than back at what had been. Was there a right answer? There must be, which meant there was a wrong one, too. What was coming next, and how important was Doctor Hoggestrom to it?

“I...”

One of the other doors opened, and a woman Chance had never seen before walked in. She stood across from Chance and smiled.

“Hello, Chance,” she said. “I have been very curious to meet you.” Doctor Hoggestrom quickly stood, so Chance did the same.

“Ma’am, I don’t know if this is perhaps the best thing for you to do,” he said.

“Noted,” she said. She sat in Doctor Hoggestrom’s vacated chair and waved for Chance to sit back down. She continued to smile at him, looking up and down his arms, across his chest, even his hair.

When she looked at his face, it was like she was looking at pieces of it: eyes, lips, each ear. Like it was something made of bits and pieces, rather than something whole. He waited for her to speak, as he had been taught.

She eventually looked up at the doctor.

“Very polite, isn’t he?” she said.

“That is part of the traning here, ma’am,” he replied. She smiled wider at his reply.

“Training?” she said. “I thought this was a place of learning! Surely you mean education, not training, doctor.”

“As you say. This perhaps isn’t the best time to discuss how we approach -”

“Oh, hush.” she said. “I’m having fun.” She turned back to Chance.

“Chance, tell me about your...” She hesitated here, pausing long enough to be sure the doctor heard it, “...education.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” said Chance. He hesitated. How far back should he go? His classes changed over time, and there was a lot that was too long ago for him to remember. Did she mean this month? Today? When he first started?

“Let me help,” she said. “What did you do today, for instance?”

“Today was tennis and swimming.”

“And how often do you to that?”

“Five times a week,” he replied. If that was important, then she should know the whole truth, he thought. “I’m not particularly good at them, but not bad either.” She laughed, and Chance felt better about his answers.

“That’s all right, Chance. As long as you put the work in I’m sure you’ll be fine.” They sat in silence a bit longer. She seemed very relaxed, unlike the doctor who didn’t look happy, but wasn’t saying anything either. Chance finally spoke.

"Um, ma’am?" She lifted an eyebrow at him. "Shouldn’t you be filling out the form?" This seemed to surprise her, and she laughed again.

"I suppose you’re right! Do lend me your pen, Doctor Hoggestrom?" The doctor nodded curtly and dropped his pen into her waiting hand. She looked over the form, wrote a few things, and stopped. "Tell me Chance, what about your education? Your actual education?"

"Ma’am?"

"Surely it’s not just Swimming and Tennis, is it? What about art? What about literature?"

Doctor Hoggestrom leaned toward her.

"An expense that is perhaps not justified, ma’am," he said. "You’ll find that we provide what is necessary for good health - excellent health, in fact - and a good life for as long as they are with us."

"Not much of of a life, then, is it?" She turned back to Chance. "What do you read for pleasure, Chance?"

"You will find they are sufficiently literate, I think."

"Oh, are you serious? Has no consideration been given to their internal life at all? You might as well be raising Spartans here."

"The st-students here receive the very best of care, Madam Sackler. Our, our mandate is to insure they are as healthy and comfortable as possible. That is exactly what we do." Chance had never seen Doctor Hoggestrom, or any of the teachers, so angry before.

"Are you quite sure ’students’ the right name for them, Linus?" The doctor looked like he was actually chewing on an answer, but he said nothing. The two of them looked at each other, and Chance realized something interesting: they were both angry. She hadn’t moved at all since turning to face the doctor; he was in constant motion, but trying to control it. Chance had never seen anything like it.

Eventually the doctor stood upright again, stepping back from the table. She (’Madame Sackler’, he amended) turned back to Chance.

"How old are you," she asked.

"Thirty-six," he replied, "as of today." The answer surprised her, he saw.

"Are you really?"

"Yes ma’am. Today is -" Doctor Hoggestrom interrupted his reply.

"No, he’s not," he said. "Not outside; a different scale. In here, he’s - Well, he is, but... Months, madam."

"Oh, I see," she said. Chance didn’t.

"But I am, though." He looked at the doctor. "Right?"

"You are, Chance," he said. "It’s simply a different way of measuring time in here as compared to out there."

"Oh." Chance was still confused, but he trusted that there would be answers for him soon enough. He looked back at Madame Sackler; she was reading the papers.

"How long did your growing pains last, Chance? Not much fun, were they?" He laughed at that.

"It’s not my favourite memory, no," he said. He thought back to when he noticed his limbs starting to ache regularly. It was his shins first, his left one and then in a couple of days both of them; he reported it, and that’s when they moved him from gymnastics to swimming. "When I was, I think, fourteen months? They kept going until I was almost in my thirties... Twenty eight or nine." He had the option of going back to gym, but decided he liked swmming better. Plus, that was where he first noticed Fortune.

"Ideally we want to ensure that accelerated grown has fully stopped and a normal cycle has returned for at least six months before graduation," Doctor Hoggestrom said. She waved him off.

"Yes, yes, I know that. Chance, you smiled. You have few distractions in here, and I’m not sure how you would produce coping mechanisms on your own. What is it about remembering being in pain for a third of your life that would make you smile?"

"Madam Sackler," said the doctor, "we do have therapists available to the children at all times, if not a library."

"And we’ll correct that," she replied. "But for now, I’m interested in hearing what Chance has to say."

Chance cleared his throat. The skin in his face started to prickle oddly as he tried to think of what to say. She smiled.

"Ah," she said. "And did you know about this, Doctor Hoggestrom?" Chance wanted more than anything to wipe his face, clearing it of whatever it was she saw and was smiling at, but he felt like that would make the itching worse. And yet somehow he was very happy that she noticed it.

It was very confusing.

"Yes, of course we did," Doctor Hoggestrom was saying. "And we have taken measures to ensure nothing untoward happened."

"Tsk!" she said, "You people really are spoilsports."

"Ma’am! We absolutely cannot have any of..." he looked quickly at Chance, then away again. "The young women here simply can’t..." He seemed lost at what to say next. "Our mandate is to provide everything we can for the best conditions of, ah, everything."

"How do you know everything is in the best condition if they never use any of it?" she replied. The doctor’s mouth dropped open. "Oh, close that; you’ll catch flies. Surely pregnancy is easily enough avoided, and any diseases would be a miracle of either biology or your staff."

"That... that would never..."

"Humans are humans, doctor," she said. "And those are predictable things. Surely you agree Chance here is human?" Doctor Hoggestrom said nothing. "Human desires, et cetera?"

"We’ve done our best to lessen many of the stronger impulses of adolescence, for the sake of institutional stability, ma’am. Through structure, discipline, and to some degree chemically."

"That last is something not many people will want to hear."

"The first two alone proved, ah, insufficient," he said. She laughed.

"And who could have predicted that?" She turned again to Chance, who was trying to follow the conversation. He didn’t feel like he got any of it, but Madam Sackler seemed happier and that was, he hoped, a good thing. But her smile faded as she watched him, and her pen tapped against her teeth once, twice.

"Yes," she said, "I think we’re going to have to give you a bit more of a vocabulary. There is more to a person than a good set of lungs and a beating heart, after all. Don’t you think?"

"The cost of -"

"Not you, Linus. Don’t you think, Chance?"

"Ma’am? I..." He couldn’t think of what he could possibly say to answer her.

"Are people not more than the sum of their parts? Chance?"

He looked to Doctor Hoggestrom, but the teacher was stone faced. He looked back to Madam Sackler, then dow to the table.

"I don’t know. Ma’am."

She said nothing for a while, and when Chance looked up at her she hadn’t moved, either. Finally she spoke.

"I rather think it’s better if you did."

She stood and left through the same door she came in by. Chance and Doctor Hoggestrom were left alone in the room. The doctor looked over the forms Madam Sackler left on the table.

"You may go, Chance," he said. "You’re due in the meditation room in fifteen minutes. Doctor Tharmandran will see you there."

Chance quickly left.

As he showered, he thought about who Madam Sackler could have been, and why he had never met her or even heard of her before. But that was silly - there were bound to be people he had never seen, even in here. Add the population of everyone outside the school, and it was stupid to think he could know everything that was going on. He concentrated on scrubbing himself clean: it was important to be considerate of everyone involved.

The meditation room was as he remembered it, with the quietly beeping machines gathered around the central table. There were three people already there, and Chance hoped he hadn’t taken too long in the shower and gave them an apologetic smile. He hopped up on the table - he didn’t need the steps up, like he used to the first several times he came here - and lay back, wiggling until the pillow under his neck was comfortably positioned. A rack of bright lights was wheeled over his face, and another over his torso. The meditation facilitator placed the mask over Chance’s mouth and nose, just like every other time. He was oddly proud that he hadn’t needed the steps for months: it’s not like he could take credit for something that just happened whether he wanted it to or not.

"Okay," said the facilitator, "you’re going to hear a hissing sound, then I want you to count backwards from ten. Ready?" Chance nodded. There was a hiss, and he closed his eyes and started to count. Distantly he heard a new voice, but it didn’t bother him: sometimes the meditation time had little changes. The first few times he got scared, but after they were explained, he was okay again. So he stopped being scared, and they stopped explaining. Nothing bothered him here any more.

"This is Doctor Tharmandran, the time is 1907 hours. Subject 2145B undergoing sedation, no known complications and none predicted. I will be leading the harvesting procedure, beginning in thirty seconds..."

Except the green, Chance thought. He never liked the green.

Next Chapter: One (2)