******
The sharp pulse of a morning alarm pulled Vincent from his daze. When his eyes flashed open, he was back in the dormitory. He had fallen asleep. At least, that’s what the time on the clock next to his bed told him. His body told him something entirely different. He didn’t feel rested at all. He had fallen asleep within the simulation. Outside of it, his mind had been turning as quickly as ever. Newsim, apparently, was on the same clock as the real world.
Vincent jumped a little when he saw movement near the bottom edge of his vision. He settled when he realized it was just a row of words scrolling across his Lenses. The message was from Derek.
I hope you enjoyed your evening off. I have arranged for a transport to take you to your new school. We tried to place you in your old classroom, but the spots had been filled by the Washing migration. I’m sure you’ll fit in with your new classmates just fine… The transport comes at 7:50. It will meet you on the balcony.
Your investigation is scheduled for next week.
Vincent glanced at the clock, then groaned and leaned back against his pillow. Going to school was the last thing they needed to be doing. That was the one place Brian’s brother most definitely would not be.
Forcing himself up, Vincent stood and crossed over to the narrow door next to the restroom. When it slid open, he was hardly surprised to see a rack of school uniforms. He was more surprised, however, by their uncharacteristic shade of gray.
At 7:48, Vincent stepped out of his room and onto the balcony. Jessica was already there waiting for him, staring out at the expanse of white school domes deeper in the city.
“Good morning,” said Vincent.
“Good morning,” said Jessica, turning around. She showed no trace of the incident from the day prior. She was steady, and her eyes were clear of blood. They were puffy, though, and the skin directly under them was tinted with the slightest shade of purple.
“Did you try the simulations?” asked Vincent, already knowing the answer.
Jessica nodded, yawning. “I don’t think I slept.”
Vincent yawned as well. “I don’t think I did either,” he said. “You got Derek’s message, right?”
“As soon as I woke up,” said Jessica. “But this isn’t what we need to be doing.” She caught Vincent’s eye on this last part.
“I know,” said Vincent. “But we’ll have time this weekend. Our investigation – whatever that is – isn’t until next week.”
Jessica nodded but said nothing back. Vincent knew it wasn’t much of a comfort. They would need much longer than a weekend to have any hope of finding a single building in Hux, let alone a single person.
“Look,” said Jessica, pointing upward. “That’s probably ours.”
The round pod of a transport was soaring toward them, slowing down as it prepared to deploy its ramp. Vincent and Jessica started toward it.
“Is this ours?”
A lanky, black-haired girl had just stepped through the door on the far left of the balcony.
“It’s ours,” said Jessica, emphasizing the second word, “You might have to–”
“Perfect,” said the girl. She pushed past them and up the ramp just as it made contact with the balcony. Jessica turned to Vincent. He merely shrugged.
“I got a message saying you were moving in,” said the girl when they followed her inside. “You’re the transfers?”
Vincent and Jessica lowered themselves into the bucket seats. Behind them, the ramp folded back up into the side of the transport. They began to rise.
“I guess so,” said Jessica. “Does that mean you can just jump in our transport?”
“I don’t see why not,” said the girl. “We’re going to the same place. You’re in your final year, aren’t you?”
They nodded, and the girl shrugged, as if that settled things. “I’m Annie, by the way,” she said. “We’ll be in the same class. This is my final year too.”
She reached out her hand, to Vincent first.
“Vin–”
“Lena,” Jessica broke in, taking Annie’s hand mid-shake. “And this is Ben.” She shot Vincent a scolding look.
“Ok…” said Annie, laughing a little. “Nice to meet you.”
Vincent avoided Jessica’s eyes, feeling foolish. He changed the subject. “So how is school?” he asked. “Will we be behind?”
Annie shook her head. “Not really,” she said. “We mostly learn about the Order. And the trades, but you’ll know all about those.”
Vincent and Jessica exchanged a look. They decided to take the girl’s word for it.
“I’m just excited for the weekend,” continued Annie. “Newsim is free.”
“Really?” said Vincent. “I thought you had to pay for it.”
“You do during the week,” said Annie. “A lot. But on the weekends, Newsight sponsors a discount at the school. If you stay here, you can have all the newsim you want.”
“If you stay where?” said Jessica. “The dorms?”
Annie nodded. “Almost the whole school stays. We’re here seven days a week.”
“What about your family?” asked Jessica. “When do you see them?”
Annie shrugged, indifferent. “I usually don’t,” she said. “Every few months maybe. They spend most of their weekends in the recreation ring, anyway. The money they don’t spend there they give to me as sim allowance for the week.” A misty, distant look crossed into her eyes. “But nothing compares to newsim during the weekend.”
Vincent thought back to the small brown house in the Newsim. He understood the misty look in Annie’s eyes all too well.
The transport was already pulling to a stop over the side of the street. Annie didn’t seem to notice.
“It’s especially fun when you share,” she continued. She was looking at Vincent. There was a raw, hungry look in her eyes Vincent didn’t understand. “Are you busy this weekend?” she said.
Jessica pressed the door-button a bit harder than necessary. “Yes,” she snapped. “We both are.”
The door slid open and Jessica started for the opening, crouching as she pulled herself from the pod. Annie flashed Vincent another smile – one he weakly returned – then stepped out of the pod as well. Vincent followed, feeling confused.
When they were all three out, Jessica pointed to a building up ahead. “Is that it?” she asked.
Vincent followed her gaze. Across the street was a squat, square building some thirty stories high, the flat face of which showed only a handful of windows. It had a dreary, nondescript entrance with an inscription over the archway, the same phrase Vincent had read on the inside of the halo: THERE IS NO LOVE WITHOUT HATRED.
“That’s the birthschool,” said Annie. “The main building of it, at least. Our school is this way.” She started off in the opposite direction without looking to see if they were following.
“Is that like Incubation?” asked Vincent, catching up. “Like from the Seclusions?”
“Maybe,” said Annie. “It’s just like our school, only for newborns.”
Vincent found the answer profoundly unhelpful, but he could tell Annie’s mind had already moved on.
“Hurry up,” she called back to them. “It’s almost eight.”