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Mr Adamson sat patiently, watching his monitor, until his 10 pupils stilled in their learning cubicles and were all watching their own monitors. At last he spoke.
“Good morning and welcome to your first history class. Today I will begin by reading an extract from a diary, which is almost 500 years old. Please sit quiet and I will take questions only when I have finished speaking, do not interrupt. The diary belonged to a young person named Rachel and was unearthed in the ruins of station number 72.
January 31st 3052
Dear diary,
It is nearly two weeks since I last opened this diary and my emotions, during that absence, have ranged from total despair to acceptance. Why am I writing this entry now? The tiny black vein I found, and recorded about in here, has spread and now a good 70 percent of my veins are also this colour. Soon I would not have been able to hide the tendrils creeping up my throat from showing, not that it matters now. Also I have started to hear voices in my head and I've questioned my sanity. As my emotions swung and changed I constantly asked myself questions.
Shock. How could this happen to me, a Well, with 100 years of specialist breeding to back me?
Anger. Why should this happen to me? We are constantly being told that the disease is not contagious and as a hovertrolley technician I have no contact with the Unwell that live and multiply unchecked below the stations.
Fright. What should I do? I considered, only 4 days ago, taking an excess of pyrographogolic but my life partner stopped me.
Horror. Would I be cast out of the station and away from all I know? How would I cope, without the life I know, in hostile and unknown territory? Would the Unwell help me or shun me?
Acceptance. My current state of being. The Authoritic have discovered my condition, probably given the information by my life partner, but the damage is done and the course of action decided upon.
Apparently it is extremely rare for one of the Well to become Unwell but it has happened before and can be taken care of. All I have to do is go though a body change. I have been assured that all my experiences and memories will be transferred to a new body and that I will just take up my life as I left it. I am dubious about this, as I have never knowingly met anyone who has gone through this. However, it is arranged now and in 2 hours I will go to the Birthhouse for the exchange to take place.
If the truth is being spoken then I will write about this experience tomorrow.”
Mr Adamson glanced at his monitor, taking in immediately the confused looks on some of his students' faces. A few of them even had their hands to their own faces, tracing, almost without thinking, the thick black lines that criss-crossed their own features.
“That is the last entry in the diary. Does anyone have a question?”
“Megan, Sir”
“Yes Megan” queried Mr Adamson. Megan had a proven record for asking pertinent questions, was a very gifted telepath and he'd been pleased to have her in his class.
“Why should they wish to try to halt evolution?”
“Good morning and welcome to your first history class. Today I will begin by reading an extract from a diary, which is almost 500 years old. Please sit quiet and I will take questions only when I have finished speaking, do not interrupt. The diary belonged to a young person named Rachel and was unearthed in the ruins of station number 72.
January 31st 3052
Dear diary,
It is nearly two weeks since I last opened this diary and my emotions, during that absence, have ranged from total despair to acceptance. Why am I writing this entry now? The tiny black vein I found, and recorded about in here, has spread and now a good 70 percent of my veins are also this colour. Soon I would not have been able to hide the tendrils creeping up my throat from showing, not that it matters now. Also I have started to hear voices in my head and I've questioned my sanity. As my emotions swung and changed I constantly asked myself questions.
Shock. How could this happen to me, a Well, with 100 years of specialist breeding to back me?
Anger. Why should this happen to me? We are constantly being told that the disease is not contagious and as a hovertrolley technician I have no contact with the Unwell that live and multiply unchecked below the stations.
Fright. What should I do? I considered, only 4 days ago, taking an excess of pyrographogolic but my life partner stopped me.
Horror. Would I be cast out of the station and away from all I know? How would I cope, without the life I know, in hostile and unknown territory? Would the Unwell help me or shun me?
Acceptance. My current state of being. The Authoritic have discovered my condition, probably given the information by my life partner, but the damage is done and the course of action decided upon.
Apparently it is extremely rare for one of the Well to become Unwell but it has happened before and can be taken care of. All I have to do is go though a body change. I have been assured that all my experiences and memories will be transferred to a new body and that I will just take up my life as I left it. I am dubious about this, as I have never knowingly met anyone who has gone through this. However, it is arranged now and in 2 hours I will go to the Birthhouse for the exchange to take place.
If the truth is being spoken then I will write about this experience tomorrow.”
Mr Adamson glanced at his monitor, taking in immediately the confused looks on some of his students' faces. A few of them even had their hands to their own faces, tracing, almost without thinking, the thick black lines that criss-crossed their own features.
“That is the last entry in the diary. Does anyone have a question?”
“Megan, Sir”
“Yes Megan” queried Mr Adamson. Megan had a proven record for asking pertinent questions, was a very gifted telepath and he'd been pleased to have her in his class.
“Why should they wish to try to halt evolution?”
Fantastic original use of "The Well" and not one that I thought about.
Nicely written and a good strong storyline. I enjoyed it a lot.
Nicely written and a good strong storyline. I enjoyed it a lot.
Great, a nice look at the 'well' scenario. :-D
Oh, very good sir. I liked that a lot.
Just when I thought all "the well" idea's had been exhausted! :-D
Nice twist at the end.
It made it sound like a plague until then! :-D
Nice twist at the end.
It made it sound like a plague until then! :-D
Thank you kind gentlemen.
*open mouthed*
I enjoyed very much.
I enjoyed very much.
Intriguing.
Most intriguing.
A nice twist on the title and hinted at so much, but explained so little - which I like. I liked it all. Short and very sweet.
Although some of the 'future' cliches bit.
Ahem.
Most intriguing.
A nice twist on the title and hinted at so much, but explained so little - which I like. I liked it all. Short and very sweet.
Although some of the 'future' cliches bit.
Ahem.
I like it. A good way to explore each emotion in the diary. Nice.
Mr Adamson sat patiently, watching his monitor, until his 10 pupils stilled in their learning cubicles and were all watching their own monitors. At last he spoke.
“Good morning and welcome to your first history class. Today I will begin by reading an extract from a diary, which is almost 500 years old. Please sit quiet and I will take questions only when I have finished speaking, do not interrupt. The diary belonged to a young person named Rachel and was unearthed in the ruins of station number 72.
January 31st 3052
Dear diary,
It is nearly two weeks since I last opened this diary and my emotions, during that absence, have ranged from total despair to acceptance. Why am I writing this entry now? The tiny black vein I found, and recorded about in here, has spread and now a good 70 percent of my veins are also this colour. Soon I would not have been able to hide the tendrils creeping up my throat from showing, not that it matters now. Also I have started to hear voices in my head and I've questioned my sanity. As my emotions swung and changed I constantly asked myself questions.
Shock. How could this happen to me, a Well, with 100 years of specialist breeding to back me?
Anger. Why should this happen to me? We are constantly being told that the disease is not contagious and as a hovertrolley technician I have no contact with the Unwell that live and multiply unchecked below the stations.
Fright. What should I do? I considered, only 4 days ago, taking an excess of pyrographogolic but my life partner stopped me.
Horror. Would I be cast out of the station and away from all I know? How would I cope, without the life I know, in hostile and unknown territory? Would the Unwell help me or shun me?
Acceptance. My current state of being. The Authoritic have discovered my condition, probably given the information by my life partner, but the damage is done and the course of action decided upon.
Apparently it is extremely rare for one of the Well to become Unwell but it has happened before and can be taken care of. All I have to do is go though a body change. I have been assured that all my experiences and memories will be transferred to a new body and that I will just take up my life as I left it. I am dubious about this, as I have never knowingly met anyone who has gone through this. However, it is arranged now and in 2 hours I will go to the Birthhouse for the exchange to take place.
If the truth is being spoken then I will write about this experience tomorrow.”
Mr Adamson glanced at his monitor, taking in immediately the confused looks on some of his students' faces. A few of them even had their hands to their own faces, tracing, almost without thinking, the thick black lines that criss-crossed their own features.
“That is the last entry in the diary. Does anyone have a question?”
“Megan, Sir”
“Yes Megan” queried Mr Adamson. Megan had a proven record for asking pertinent questions, was a very gifted telepath and he'd been pleased to have her in his class.
“Why should they wish to try to halt evolution?”
“Good morning and welcome to your first history class. Today I will begin by reading an extract from a diary, which is almost 500 years old. Please sit quiet and I will take questions only when I have finished speaking, do not interrupt. The diary belonged to a young person named Rachel and was unearthed in the ruins of station number 72.
January 31st 3052
Dear diary,
It is nearly two weeks since I last opened this diary and my emotions, during that absence, have ranged from total despair to acceptance. Why am I writing this entry now? The tiny black vein I found, and recorded about in here, has spread and now a good 70 percent of my veins are also this colour. Soon I would not have been able to hide the tendrils creeping up my throat from showing, not that it matters now. Also I have started to hear voices in my head and I've questioned my sanity. As my emotions swung and changed I constantly asked myself questions.
Shock. How could this happen to me, a Well, with 100 years of specialist breeding to back me?
Anger. Why should this happen to me? We are constantly being told that the disease is not contagious and as a hovertrolley technician I have no contact with the Unwell that live and multiply unchecked below the stations.
Fright. What should I do? I considered, only 4 days ago, taking an excess of pyrographogolic but my life partner stopped me.
Horror. Would I be cast out of the station and away from all I know? How would I cope, without the life I know, in hostile and unknown territory? Would the Unwell help me or shun me?
Acceptance. My current state of being. The Authoritic have discovered my condition, probably given the information by my life partner, but the damage is done and the course of action decided upon.
Apparently it is extremely rare for one of the Well to become Unwell but it has happened before and can be taken care of. All I have to do is go though a body change. I have been assured that all my experiences and memories will be transferred to a new body and that I will just take up my life as I left it. I am dubious about this, as I have never knowingly met anyone who has gone through this. However, it is arranged now and in 2 hours I will go to the Birthhouse for the exchange to take place.
If the truth is being spoken then I will write about this experience tomorrow.”
Mr Adamson glanced at his monitor, taking in immediately the confused looks on some of his students' faces. A few of them even had their hands to their own faces, tracing, almost without thinking, the thick black lines that criss-crossed their own features.
“That is the last entry in the diary. Does anyone have a question?”
“Megan, Sir”
“Yes Megan” queried Mr Adamson. Megan had a proven record for asking pertinent questions, was a very gifted telepath and he'd been pleased to have her in his class.
“Why should they wish to try to halt evolution?”