Harry leads you down a corridor. "I lied to you before," he says, almost in passing. You turn and frown at him, honey-blonde hair swaying.
"What do you mean?" Jenny's light voice comes out.
"That girl whose skin you were in. We could have removed it. You'll see later, one of the pens is very good at it. But we wanted to see how you reacted to waking up as the opposite sex, then shipping off your flabby blonde friend back to her life. Didn't phase you at all. That's why you're a Type 2, I guess."
"Is that unusual?"
"Yeah. Like I said, most people can't do it. Given your induction was aborted, we weren't sure you could, either. That test confirmed it."
"Are there many Type 2s?"
"A couple. They're less common than Type 3s or Type 4s. More common than a Type 1. It's the hardest role, if you ask me." You guess you'll have to learn the terminology as you go.
"That's... really helpful."
"I try. Here, you'll never know who's who until you're good enough. Speaking of which... who are you?"
"Jenny Miller. I grew up in a small town called Woodbridge. I've got an older brother and a younger sister, and..."
"Stow it, Jenny. I asked who you were, not for your life story. Think about your identity at all times. People don't just disclose that kind of crap. Be Jenny, not someone being Jenny and showing off about it. And don't let the others phase you; they may or may not work out you're new blood, depending on how good they are. We throw new recruits in at the deep end. You're going to learn it all: improvisational acting, cold reading, firearms, martial arts, surveillance, electronics, computer skills - plus additional grading as a Type 2 of course. Good luck."
And with that, Harry points to a wooden door at the end of the hall. You nod, and head through it...
And into a classroom. Unlike the rest of this barren, sterile place, it actually looks like a classroom, or at least a movie set of a classroom. Light streams through fake windows into a room with a whiteboard, tables, chairs. It looks like a typical community college room. There's about ten other students, of all different apparent sexes and ethnicities, with ages ranging from 20 to an old, wrinkled man in the corner. this is Wessler college, Jenny's memories tell you, that you've been attending now for...
You feel a hand squeeze your ass, and jump instinctively. It takes half a second to compose yourself. Think like Jenny... think like Jenny. You spin round, and find yourself in the arms of a tall, handsome man, brown hair cut short. Penny's memories tell you immediately this is Alex Clark - your boyfriend. You grin, and give him a playful shove... after all, you're supposed to act in character. "Not in class," you say, eyebrows furrowing in a cute tease.
"Oh, come on, gorgeous. You know you're hard to resist."
"Well, you'll just have to stay hard down there, won't you?" You smile. Alex's eyes search your expression; the rest of his body is in character, but the intelligence there is definitely trying to see through your disguise. You guess you passed test one.
"You're new," he says, low and quiet. Or not.
"New?" You put your hands on your hips. "What does that mean?"
"New. To class."
"Alex, don't be weird. We'll chat after class, OK?" You do your best to focus. That's a recruit trying to phase you. You're not going to let them. You take a seat where you remember Jenny always sits - she likes the way the sunlight falls, and reach for her pen to finish drawing the elegant love heart frieze on the bottom of the table. You watch as Lowder walks in to the room. Theatrical to the ridiculous, Lowder is an English lovey who fops and fawns about, instructing you all on improvisational acting. You settle in for a lecture.
"Busted." There's a call from behind you. Mrs Cheng, a middle-aged Chinese woman who usually spends her time alone to her thoughts, chirps up. You spin around, as do the others.
"I call busted, you Type 1 wannabe."
"My dear, whatever do you mean!" Lowder is beside himself, gesturing like a ham, voice wobbling. Mrs Cheng rises and grins.
"You're Tyler; could spot you a mile away. Tyler in a Lowder skin. Busted."
The ham pauses, and suddenly drops all pretense. "Ah, shit."
An alarm rings, and as Jenny you - and most of the other students - stay in character, looking startled. Two men you've never seen before step into the room.
"Recruits: halt simulation." Everyone stays perfectly still, rigid almost - except Lowder and Mrs Cheng. "Good job, Type 3. What gave him away?"
"He overdid it. That's when I first noticed. But Tyler has a tell, too. When he's in a skin he's always flicking his nails when he's nervous. Never seen Lowder do that, and Tyler isn't in class. Ergo, Tyler is Lowder."
"All right. Tyler, you failed. Report back to your cell, and let's return our teacher no normal, shall we? And work on your damn nail tell! That kind of thing could get you killed - or worse, exposed. Mrs Cheng, good job. Everyone else, simulation will reset when the alarm stops. Improv will be in the afternoon instead; this morning will be manipulation and persuasion. Have fun."
The door closes. Everyone is still. The alarm stops... and suddenly the world is alive again, with everyone living their fake life as if nothing has happened.
This, you realize, is going to be one strange education...
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
