Citizen

Chapter twelve // p2

— recap: Kyra is beginning her training with Ethan in the Control Centre —

Ethan halted outside a door. Like many of the others Kyra had seen, this was another one without a lock. Though he was tall, Ethan had to stand on his tiptoes to reach the top of the door frame, from which he pulled a small white pen with a glowing blue tip.

"Keys are too risky. They could easily be stolen or lost," Ethan explained to address Kyra's frown. He drew a large key on the door, which glowed for a second, before disappearing. The door opened silently as the lights flickered on.

The room was ample, with three glass computer desks spaced out across the back wall. Bookcases full to the brim of novels old and new ran along the side walls. The front wall was covered in an array of inventions, which Kyra saw as she span around; it hadn't crossed her mind that they'd also invent weapons. Suppressing a shiver at the sight of a particularly nasty blade, she crossed to the right wall and looked at the books, pulling them out at random: The Perks of Control; Handiness For Dummies, Volume One; So You Think You Can Tinker?

Placing The Basics of Building a World back on the shelf, she said, "So you can't use keys, yet you draw them on your doors?"

"There are different drawings for different purposes. The key is the symbol we use for training. All depends on what you're doing."

Ethan shrugged out of his jacket and threw it onto a free chair, heading straight for the middle computer. He pulled the chair out and waved his hand in front of the translucent screen. With a faint hum the screen solidified, shading Ethan's face in a variety of different colours. While he was distracted Kyra turned back to the shelf, her eyes catching on one book in particular: The Secrets of Arabel - A guide for beginners.

"Can I borrow this?" she asked, spinning to face him.

Glancing up, Ethan said, "Sure, sure, it's most likely stuff you already know. History, maps, facts. The basics."

His eyes raced across the screen as he typed, faster than she had seen anyone do it before - including herself during an exam. This was clearly where he felt most at home. Kyra, on the other hand, felt anything but. She crossed her arms as she walked forward tentatively. The butterflies in her stomach pressed harder against her rib cage. With every step it got more and more painful. Biting her lip, Kyra pulled a chair over from the next desk and sat down, hugging the book to her torso.

Though she knew she was supposed to be paying attention to Ethan, all she could think about was how out of place she was. Everything was white. The floors, the walls, even Ethan was sporting a pale shirt. But she was dressed in grey, so different and dull compared to the rest of the Control Centre.

Ethan typed feverishly for a few minutes, colours and words flying across the screen so fast Kyra had trouble stringing them together. The screen settled on a picture of a young girl. Judging by her clear, unlined skin, she was a few years younger than Kyra, with rosy cheeks and curly red locks that tried to obscure her face. A list of thoughts began to appear, almost as innocent as the girl herself.

"How does it work?" she asked, sliding into the adjacent seat.

"What?"

"The bracelets. I just, I don't understand how they can actually read full thoughts like that."

Ethan pursed his lips. "To be honest, I don't know. I mean, I know, but not exactly how they did it. Just the basics."

Kyra stared at him until he sighed.

"Here's what I know. Before Arabel, a group of scientists were working on a way to understand the thoughts of people with locked-in syndrome, a condition which generally occurs after a stroke and paralyses the facial tissue and the body, leaving them unable to speak. They wondered whether the parts of the brain that dealt with external sounds also dealt with internal thoughts. By mapping the neurons used when citizens hear particular sounds or words, they thought they might be able to use those neurons to interpret their thoughts. It wasn't an exact science at first, but we've had four hundred years to perfect it."