The school is a new environment for me, so while trying to map out the environment and find a classroom to draw up a blueprint, the principal's office finds me.
A man clearly under the influence of time looks up from the documents he is looking at, A quick glance reveals the one at the top to be a letter. I only catch the sender's name, Zachary Dent, before he lifts it so it is out of my sight, he wants to be like that huh?
"Who are you?" He asks the obvious question. His eyes don't leave mine and I keep my face passive.
"Albert Henderson." I answer.
If this were a book with everything happening so the author could force feed the readers exposition in a random conversation, the next question would be, 'What are you doing here'.
But this is real life and events don't play out like that, instead, he asked me, "I assume you want your schedule?"
I only nod.
He turns to the computer on his table and after a few clicks, I hear a ding from my phone in my pocket.
"You should have received your schedule in an email. Have a wonderful day and please, enjoy Xanderidge High." He says, now staring at me and offering a kind smile, akin to what you'd receive from a grandfather but with more than half the affection missing.
"Thank you sir." I leave with that. I don't bother asking him for a map, either he had the good sense to send it to me, or he didn't. Taking a look at my phone tells me I have to navigate the large learning institution by myself.
I eventually find a classroom, settle down and start going through the schedule the principal sent me without me telling him my email address.
This is the world today. You can get all of a person's information from just their name, bank accounts, passwords, just about any information on that person is made available through the internet, if you know what you're doing. In other words, if you're not a complete idiot.
Everything is easy to get because SOSRAC made it so accessible. The internet was powerful before but now, you can look up private information about people because that doesn't exist anymore. It's all up for grabs, you can put someone's personal life on the front pages of the newspapers without much work, you could put a bank in your name and get away with it.
The only reason there isn't so much chaos is because people can do it right back to you, so most don't even try, those that do, let's just say they don't have a happy ending.
There's nothing in the world that can't be found on the internet, unless of course, it has to do with SOSRAC. No information about them exists anywhere outside books that ramble about how incredible they have been to society. What little I know, I've learnt from my mother, who is the head of the biology department in SOSRAC, only one position lower than a Head of Society herself.
Setting up my computer on a desk, I get to work on creating something like a map of the school from what I know so far. The room I'm in is on a hallway to the right of the principal's office and about two other classrooms exist on this hallway. It doesn't take long before my work is interrupted.
Walking into the room I'm in is a boy about my age in dark jeans and a simple red hoodie. The hood is down which allows me to see a bit of water drip from his brown hair. Despite the youth in his facial features it takes me all of a second to decipher that the boy I'm looking at is the principal's grandson.
"You must be Albert Henderson. Nice to meet you, I'm Jacob Xanderidge, but everyone calls me Jake." He says, extending a hand of greeting.
I stand to grasp his hand in a firm handshake. "The pleasure is all mine, nice to meet you Jacob."
I won't be calling him Jake. That would imply familiarity and some sort of connection between us. I'm not here to make friends, I'm here to kill his granddad and eventually dad.
"Doing something important over there?" Jacob asks, gesturing to the laptop on the smart desk.
"If it weren't important, I won't be doing it, it can wait though. Do you need something?" I ask, having to tilt my head slightly upward due to the height difference between us.
"No, nothing at all. I just thought I'd show you around the school, and get to know each other better." He answered, clearly fishing around for some information about me, he's not very subtle.
"I'd like a tour." I reply, keeping my voice even. 'I'm completely uninterested in getting to know you, Jacob.' I think.
After I put my laptop back in my bag and sling it over my shoulder, Jacob leads me out of the classroom and to the various rooms in the school. There's an outside pond, A large gym, A virtual reality simulation room and of course, more classrooms.
Jacob takes his time showing me the school so I can absorb it all. He doesn't know about my eidetic memory, and that I memorize everything he says as soon as he says it. In the half hour it takes for him to show me around the school, Jacob tries, and fails, to start a conversation with me that will lead to a reveal, any reveal, about my strange personality. Near the end of the tour, he tries again.
"So, what made you leave your previous school?" He asks.
"This one was better. If they can, isn't that why everyone goes here?" I answer.
"So it wasn't because the school's principal was arrested or anything." Jacob asks accusingly. He's brought out the big guns now — actually, they're more like water guns — they still don't mean anything to me.
"They got a new one didn't they? No, I came here because Xanderidge offers education and opportunities you can't get anywhere else. Since you know where I was, you know exactly why I was there and not here." I say.
Oh he definitely knows, his father probably filled him in on the details. I actually graduated middle school just before I was ten years old. I attended the classes for my grade and wrote the exams for grades above me. The teachers humored me at first but when I topped classes I wasn't even in yet, they took me seriously. As a result, I took the final exam to graduate about four years earlier than I was supposed to.
Xanderidge wouldn't take me in at that age so I had to look for other options. It was going to be Xanderidge or nothing so in that time, I trained tirelessly to become better than good, I didn't want to leave anything to chance. Even when I was old enough Xanderidge wouldn't take me, hence I went to a different school and reapplied every year, this year, Marcus Xanderidge finally took me in.
"You seemed a little desperate, Xanderidge pushes its students to their limit and my father didn't want a lawsuit on the grounds of child abuse." Jacob says.
"And when I was old enough?" I asked.
"You still seemed desperate. When you mentioned the school offering opportunities you couldn't get anywhere else, where you talking about getting hired by SOSRAC?"
"It's a possibility," I say even though working there would be spitting on my father's empty grave, "though I'd rather keep my options open."
A ping from my phone gets my attention, forcing me to retrieve it.
"That must mean it's time for class." Jacob says.
"This is how things are here? Sending students notifications for everything? Your father must love holding the fact that he has our private information over us." I say while putting my phone back and heading to class.
"Not really. What if I told you the ping is just a reminder and if it isn't answered to, the school can track you down?" Jacob asks hypothetically, also heading to class.
"Then I'd ask if such measures aren't too far and wonder if simply leaving your phone in school and leaving would be enough to give the school the slip."
"Then what if I say, 'the school can still find you with certain satellites they may or may not have?'" Jacob asks.
"At that point I'd tell you that's an abuse of power and a breach of student privacy." I say, stopping to stare at Jacob right in the eye.
"Well then it's a good thing I didn't say anything. See you around Albert." He replies before walking off.
Interesting conversation. Jacob seems to have a lot of access to a lot of information, perhaps I should look for something to hold as leverage over him, something that will make him very willing to divulge even more Intel about Xanderidge.
I'll definitely be doing that, but first, I have biology.
"Of you're not in a seat in three seconds I'll assume that you're not in this class." A bored, voice says. It originates from a young woman sitting at a desk while typing on her computer.
It doesn't take much more to get the class to settle down in their seats.
"All right then. Good morning class, smart desks on and gadgets away, we'll be having a test. Well, you will." She says while looking up from her computer and flashing a smile.
The class groans in response. Its a groan of reluctant expectancy. They saw the test coming, but don't want to do it, and with good reason. Thanks to my mother and other brilliant biologists, the subject became more than three times harder for high school students, who now have thrice as much to study about.
"Don't give me that response, all of you know the drill here." She stops when her gaze lands on me, her eyebrows also flick up slightly in surprise.
"Maybe not all of you." She stands up and approaches me. "There's a new student amongst us and he probably isn't aware of our style. What's your name?"
"Albert Henderson." Is my simple reply, my last name has the entire class looking at me now. It's not everyday the child of a SOSRAC head of department is in your classroom.
"Henderson you say. You should have no problem writing the test then." She says
"Let's hope not." I answer
"Good. Begin the test, you have fifteen minutes." She announces, already retreating to her seat.
A quick glance at the questions on the smart desk tell me that the questions are easy, for me, and since there are only thirty of them, it takes me just five minutes to answer them all. I don't need to look at my classmates to tell that they are struggling, biology can be challenging.
I press the button to submit to the teacher. She notices this.
"Given up already? I know my questions are tough, but I thought you'd be able to handle it. This must be a new record." She says.
"I'm already done. Out of curiosity, what is the old record?" I ask.
"It takes at least seven minutes before someone calls it quits." She informs me.
"If he won't break the record, I will." A girl at the back of the classroom pipes up, and presumably submits as well.
"Are you sure? It's a part of your final grade." The teacher says.
"What isn't. My brain just doesn't do biology." The girl replies, her confident voice a sharp contrast to the words from her glossy lips.
"The world's biologists, myself included have something to say regarding that questionable remark, but if you say so. The rest of you have eight minutes left." The teacher says.
And in precisely eight minutes, the rest of the class turn in their tests, albeit reluctantly.
The rest of the period is used for some teaching, and the class honestly surprises me. Xanderidge High is home to the smartest children in the world, and while the students easily take in some particularly difficult concepts, I have to say I expected . . . more.
It almost feels like a normal class, A normal class where everyone is effortlessly answering questions a typical adult would have trouble with. A normal class where the combined IQ is more than that of the remaining homophobic population of the world. Which granted, isn't very much but you get the idea. My point is, as smart as my classmates are, I couldn't help but expect them to be smarter.
"Albert, do you have a minute?" The teacher, who I learnt is called Julia, asks after the class.
I turn away from the door that students are exiting through in swarms and say, "I have a little time before my next class. Do you want something?"
She turns her computer monitor towards me, I see my name and a number next to it, 100.
"A hundred percent? I'm flattered." I say
"You don't get it, this doesn't happen very often, or ever." Julia clarifies.
"That's hard to believe. My mother went here." I say.
"Vanessa was a prodigy, it's part of what made her head of biology almost as soon as she got to SOSRAC. She was the first and only person to do it, until today." Julia says.
If what Julia is saying is true, then I've brought a lot of unnecessary attention to myself, but I can't stop now, this could be a chance to get closer to the teachers, and eventually, the principal.
"It must be because I'm Vanessa's son."
Julia shakes her head. "It's not that. Remember the girl with the blue hair?"
"The one who quit early." I answer.
"Right, she's the daughter of the SOSRAC head of chemistry and usually gets a B in chemistry." Julia tells me.
"This doesn't make any sense, then what does valedictorian get, straight Bs?" I ask in rhetoric. When Ms. Julia keeps quiet, I know the answer.
"Just how smart are you Albert?" She asks.
"Too smart for here apparently. I have to get to my next class, do all teachers give tests on the first day?" I ask.
"Is the cell the smallest unit of life?" She asks in return.
"Great." I say, then head out the door for my next class, still surprised at what I just learnt and pondering what Ms Julia asked. Just how smart am I?
It doesn't take long for me to figure out Xanderidge's system; test, class, test class, what's next? You guessed it, test. The students are pretty okay with it though, so I am too. At least the school has the decency to let us eat.
Which is why I walk around the cafeteria with a lunch tray in hand, looking for somewhere to sit. Normally, I wouldn't trust anything even remotely related to SOSRAC, much less eat it, but PITAN has all but sworn that his sensors didn't detect any poison in my food. I switched with a random student anyway, just in case.
"Do you mind if I sit here?" I ask when I get to a table with only two people.
The girl on the table, the one from biology, looks around the cafeteria, then says, "it's you. There's plenty of room, it doesn't look like you have plenty of options."
So I sit, and the boy on the table extends a hand towards me.
"My sister here, seems to have forgotten to introduce me. I'm Mike."
"Mike? Short for Michael?" I ask, and once he nods in the affirmative, I follow up with, "I'm going to call you Michael if that's okay. I'm Albert Henderson."
"Michael Reid, and this is Sasha, who should be doing the introductions." He says, he fixates his blue eyes on his twin sister in annoyance.
"It's nice to meet you both."
"You know it's funny, we were just talking about you, fiver." Sasha says.
"Fiver?" I question
"It's a nickname she came up with for you. She tells me she had two classes with you, and you spent only five minutes on your tests." Michael informs me.
"It's only because the questions are so easy, and please, don't call me fiver, I'm not a fan of nicknames." I reply.
"Got it, no nicknames, Mr. Easy." Sasha says, taking a bite out of her sandwich while feigning innocence.
"So you're the stubborn one and you're the Michael." I say while looking at both of them.
"What do you mean, the Michael? Have you heard of me?" Michael asks, A little uncomfortable.
"Nothing much. Word in the hallways is that you sleep around with dogs and wear nothing but a diaper during the weekend. Should I be concerned?" I ask.
"None of that's true, you shouldn't believe any of that." Mike assures me.
"Oh but he should. Because all of it is true, and you won't be telling anyone otherwise, right?" A taunting voice cuts in, its owner sits at our table, uninvited.
"I didn't ask you to sit here, Jake." Sasha says, no shortage of hostility in her tone.
"I helped myself to a seat. You were never to quick to remember your manners." He replies.
"And you," Jacob continues to Michael, "should stop feeding Albert lies. The whole school knows that you're a dog-fucking, diaper-wearing burden to society, it's only fair, that he gets to know the whole truth about you."
"None of that shit is true and you know it." Sasha spits at Jacob.
"Careful now Sasha, you wouldn't want me to leak to the school some more of Mike's dirty secrets." Jacob threatens, quite blatantly, then turns to me, "You shouldn't be seen around the likes of Michael here, he soils the schools reputation just by attending."
"I think I'm good. Though this table is getting a little cramped don't you think?" I ask.
"I agree. Mike, how about you go somewhere else and give Albert, your sister and I some alone time?" Jacob suggests.
"I'd rather not leave her here with someone like you." Michael says.
"I wasn't talking about either of the Reids, Jacob." I clarify.
Jacob lets out a small, fake laugh before asking, "what?"
"I think you should leave, I'd rather enjoy my lunch in the presence of good company." I say.
"You should watch what you say and who you say it to Albert." Jacob warns.
"He's saying you should get your annoying ass the fuck off this table, right now." Sasha reiterates, using unnecessary swear words.
Jacob takes his lunch tray and excuses himself, not without giving me a hard look before he leaves.
"Well that was a lot more vulgar language than was necessary." I comment, turning back to my food, also, sandwiches.
"There's no such thing as too much swearing. How much is too much for you anyway?" Sasha asks.
"Any swearing at all is excessive." I answer.
"It's a means of expression. Personally, I don't swear a lot, but its already an essential part of her vocabulary." Michael explains.
"In my opinion, it shouldn't even be there in the first place." I say.
"Well it is, deal with it. Do you have physics next period?" Sasha asks, quickly changing the subject.
"I do."
"The teacher should be introduced to Albert Henderson in five minutes." She says.
"Don't be silly, Sasha this is physics we're talking about here. With all the formulae and theories, it probably won't take five minutes." Mike says.
"You're right, it might be closer to three." I say.
Sasha whistles. "All three minutes, take two if you can."
"I heard there's a new teacher, do you think we'll still have a test?" I ask.
Sasha nods. "Yep. All new staff are oriented and told about school policy before they teach."
"Do you happen to know a name?" I ask. I haven't been opportuned to carry out research on the teaching staff yet, I sometimes prefer meeting someone before probing into every part of their lives I can get my hands on.
"I know it's a he. I think his name is Zachary Dent."