Death is the beginning of Immortality

-Maximilien Robespierre 

-----

"I am ashamed," said the teacher, strutting around the perfectly straight desks and the horribly silent students, "that I have been asked this. You should all know by now that you cannot question such things!"

Jack sat in the back row, farthest from the holoboard, her hands clenched into shaking fists, anger coursing up and down her spine as she listened to her ranting teacher go on and on about their terrible behavior. His face was becoming so red that it looked as if it was going to explode.

"But sir," said the youth who had started the...discussion with a bang, "I just wanted to know what happened to my grandmother? She went missing one day an-"

"This conversation is over," the man's voice was cold, it matched the look in his eyes, the harsh gray staring disgustedly at the gawky teen, "Because of Protocol I thought  you would all be old enough to understand." He let the tense silence hang in the air before continuing.

"The 56th rule of the Databases states what?" he asked, the question piercing the atmosphere.

"The Council has its reasons, and the Council is always correct."

20 voices spoke in unison, chanting out the rules that they were bred on.

"Good. We will continue."

Screw this, Jack thought.

-----

Walking home from school, she could see the industrial plants spewing smoke into the already smog-smothered skies, and gagged slightly, but not because of the smoke. She could see the Vile walking in shuffling rows back towards their run-down slums of houses.

She walked up to the tall wire fence that separated the city between the "perfect citizens" and those deemed unworthy of contact with the general public.

She'd seen the Vile many times before, her mother ushering her hastily away from them when she was younger.

But one had never winked at her before.

She turned and ran.

-----

"There's been more distrust among the students." the old Teacher said, walking briskly down the metallic school corridor and avoiding the bustling students.

"I was aware," replied the colleague next to him who lightly twirled his moustache between his long fingers.

"It's time for a change. We must...prune our students, to say. Find those who are rebellious, those who have been a constant" he paused, thinking of a suitable word, "problem to the curriculum."

The long gray robes of the two Teachers swirled at their feet, swishing with every step they took across the metal floor, footsteps echoing softly.

"Then what? There is absolutely no way they will listen to us."

The taller man's black eyes dilated as a horrible expression changed his face. He grinned.

"Fear always helps in these situations."