Enhancement

- - 40 - -

My mind runs in a thousand different directions. Part of me want to alert Stephen of the Presidential seal while another part of me wants to shut up. Should I pound against the vehicle door to escape or should wait in fear for the President's Screeners to interrogate us?

We're caught, we're done. The President caught on to our acting, his power too strong to evade. Is this the end for us?

The logical part of my head reminds me I still have to act like a terrified middle-class girl. It's not over just yet. "W-Where are we?" I ask Stephen in the dark. "W-Who are you, and why is this happening?"

Stephen pauses for a moment, catching my hint. "No, wait. Who are you?" His voice gains desperation and force. "Where are you from, and what's going on in the world right now? I need to know!"

The vehicle jolts forward, pushing us against our seats. "What?" I mock-ask.

"You heard me. Where do you live and what's it like? How many screenings have you seen? Has anyone ever screened you?"

"What?" I repeat, "I don't know. Why do you care so much? You're a stranger."

Stephen groans in the dark. "You don't understand, you stupid person."

"Excuse me?" I gasp. "You're the one who doesn't understand. I was on a SkyTrain, and now I'm here? In a vehicle that I've never seen before? Now tell me what's going on here and why!"

"How am I supposed to know!"

"Then how am I supposed to know!"

A holographic screen flickers on within the vehicle cab, illuminating the darkness. Stephen and I whip out gazes towards the display which hovers between us.

A voice emits from the hologram. "Welcome to the the Screeners' health and security vehicle. You are not in any legal trouble, and you should not be alarmed. Please relax. Sit properly in your seat."

Limited in our options, I throw Stephen a final confused look before relaxing my features in my seat. The old me wouldn't question anything, even if traces of doubt existed within her. My exterior would remain completely compliant, and my interior would be slightly suspicious. But the real me spots the lie in the speaker's voice: this is not a Screener vehicle. It's the President Hybriad's vehicle.

Stephen bitterly mumbles to himself as he sits against his seat. He curses once before seat belts lock across our torsos. He's perfect at playing an angry prisoner.

"Please state your name and age," the voice says.

The holographic screen points an arrow at me, so I say, "Holland Renner, age..." I pause for a millisecond before saying the age I was before the derailment. "17."

The arrow switches to point at Stephen. "Stephen Moore, age 18," he says.

The sound system clicks. "In approximately three seconds, a video will replace the arrow on the screen. Watch carefully, and pay attention."

Stephen and I wait in heavy silence as a video appears onto the screen.

"The perfect union," the video says, and I recognize it immediately from my screening therapy. I turn away from the feed, but the voice commands me to pay attention. I change my plan and watch the screen, stifling my flood of memories.

"The United States of America developed a perfect union. 1,200 beautiful cities across the country salute the President every day. 1,200 cities live in harmony."

Video shots of cities pan across the screen, displaying countless buildings and cityscapes. "The USA depends on Screeners to enforce its perfection. Work and school need to run smoothly for all citizens to remain healthy, clothed, and fed."

Farmland and countrysides pop onto the screen. "Hard work and discipline sustains the nation. It is imperative for all citizens to follow their daily routines without flaws. One mistake will harm the glory of our safe, secure American lifestyles. So take part in perfection."

I begin to zone out as the feed drones into my ears. During my partial screening, I ate up this crap like it was infused it with sugar. I was so terrified I wanted to believe I lived in a heavenly place. "Taking part in perfection" kept my parents' fines from rising, so I convinced myself I should follow the glorious, perfect rules.

Then I saw the way my classmates ostracized me. No one would associate with me, and conflicting doubt consumed me. How could perfection include punishments like losing all my friends?

"Take part in perfection," the video enforces. "Follow the rules and prosper, but break the rules and suffer. Generations of families stay safe and healthy under the President's laws, and you will, too."

I yawn twice as a new set of words appear in the video as shots of Philadelphia display on the screen. I swear I see my apartment building, and it startles me. "Never challenge the productivity or the order of the nation. Always keep in mind the country who gave you life and opportunity."

My eyelids begin to droop as I concentrate on the feed. I can't explain the weariness, but I watch Stephen's glassy eyes slide shut in the glow of the screen. His body becomes limp. Following suit, my eyelids flicker heavily before they slide closed, too.

I don't bother struggling to the end. It's a done deal. Whatever the President wants, we must comply. Even if that means drugging us in his own car.

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