Curtin Imagination Association: Flipped

Jessica just flipped. She's on the floor next to her desk-screen now. Her screaming is really really irritating. I'm at the back on the left; she's on front left. It'll be much louder near her. I need to focus. Damn. Why did you have to do it during this question you bitch!

Ok. Remember what mum said. Need to focus. You need to focus sweetie. If anything comes up, focus on the screen and concentrate on only that. Damn, why on this question?

I pressed the flag button and went to the next question. It's a simple one, basic arithmetic. Easy score. Check your working, done. Next question. A spatial rotation one, ok I'm good at these.

Jessica has just been dragged off; I could hear her trying to get back on her chair when the bots came. But she flipped, that's susceptibility to stress. That's as bad as bottom percentile. Need to weed it out, need to weed it out.

I looked around, wasting 3 seconds to see if the others are going ok. I hope Sarah does well. I hope John does as well. I want to marry him one day. Can't do that if we are bottom 50. I don't want to have to meet someone new. I've known him for 14 years, since we started school. I've known Sarah for 17 years; we live next door and were only born 3 days apart. We've been friends all our lives. I know all the others too, but I need to be ready to loose any of them. I know I'll loose half for sure. I just don't want it to be the three of us.

Ok silence is back, good. The counter shows 3 minutes and 2 questions left. Great, I'm ahead of schedule a minute, and I only skipped one. Damn you Jessica. Oh well, you'll never annoy me again. Pity, I kind of liked you. No, no I don't .I hate you for slowing me. I've always hated you. I knew you'd do this to my friends, and me you bitch!

Ok, done them all, back to the flagged question. Question number 84. Ok, how long left. Damn, 30 seconds. Ok, elimination, then selection, at last moment, click the one that seems right. Don't waste a single second. This is your life on the line. This is your gene line as well. Can't disappoint the coming grandchildren. Ok focus. It's either A or C. Um, 5 seconds. Damn, um, C.

I pressed the button just as the screen locked and began to glow bright red. No more answers allowed. There were only 3 flips this year. Damn, I was hoping for more. They get scores of zero; they drag the bell curve south. This will be a harder year than last year. I usually get about 55th to 60th percentile based on last year's scores. I would have beaten Julia. She only lost out by a third of a percentile. She was the Cutoff. I wish they had let her through. But she deserved it; those who fail always deserve it. I still miss her; she was great as a sister. But she just wasn't good as a person. She wasn't good for the future.

We need to stand up now. I do and shuffle out of the room, standing behind John. He's got a nice ass. Last night we had sex again. Research has shown that having sex three times a week increases your average in the tests by half a percentile. We might need that. Plus it feels good, why the hell not. It could be our last night together, ever. Sarah and me made love last week as well. Apparently once every week ups your rates by 1.5 percentiles for primary heterosexuals like the two of us. The theory is that by becoming at ease with the people you study with, and then your mind rests better. I hope it helps the three of us, anything that works.

The waiting room is weirdly shaped. It's sort of soothing, a very dark red. All the walls and floors are padded and sloping. There are no right angles. In fact there are no angles at all in here. It's pretty big, enough for everyone to lie down on the couches. We need to wait here while the computers triple checks every answer. And works out who lives and who dies.

Anyone with scores in the top half of the population bell curve gets to live and have children, and any on the bottom half die. It's just the rules. They are needed for when we arrive. We need to improve; we need to be better than the weak we left behind. I just wish that I were able to be sure that I'd live. I wish that I were sure that we'd all live. But we can't, this needs to happen.

The journey is almost over, we've been flying for over 5000 years, almost 200 generations. Only a thousand more and we'll be there. Maybe when we arrive our descendants will be able to have as many children as they want, without living with the knowledge that statistically half of them are likely to die by the hand of the governing computers.

The room is strangely silent. I can't see anyone smiling. I don't see anyone frowning either. Everyone is keeping himself or herself in a sort of solid fear, which prevents anything other than that trying not to frown or smile smirk. It looks disturbing to me.

The buzz just came for us to go back.

I don't know where Sarah or John are. I'm behind Paula. She's probably getting a bolt of electricity through the brain in one minute. I hope so; if she is then it'll hopefully push the odds in favor of the three of us surviving. After today everyone who survives can get their fertility pills if they want them. I'm not going to take them until I'm at least 25. John says he wants to take his when he leaves the room. It's not like there is much to do anyway other than sex until you get kids. Once I get some I'll be spending most of my time trying to get them to do well in the tests.

I'm back at my desk. Sitting on the soft chair is kind of soothing. The helmet they just put on itches a bit. I can feel the super-conducting wires are pushing into my scalp. Apparently if I don't get in then I won't feel it. Death occurs so fast the brain can't even process anything. I literally won't know what will hit me.

The woman is now at the front of the room.

"Everyone please close your eye covers. Do not open them until I tell you so. The shock will occur for the lower 50th percentiles, the rest should keep their covers closed, a technician will come and aid your exit from the room."

I closed my eyes. My breathing is so fast now. It's like I've ran kilometers in seconds.

She's speaking again.

"Five...Four...Three...Two...One..."