The History Test
His mother’s distant voice took on a stridency that made him wince. But, damn it, he nearly had it! Nearly… the slight distraction cost him.
The two-tone bleat and Game Over flashing across the screen told him he wouldn’t be ‘getting’ it today. His narrow shoulders slumped and he gently placed the ‘joystick’ next to the ‘keyboard’ with a sigh. He shut the ‘computer’ down, covered it with the magnetic dust repeller and hung his head.
“Tomorrow,” he patted the box. “Tomorrow, my escape from Castle Wolfenstein will be complete.”
The wood polymer door flung open behind him and scorching sunlight streamed into the shed.
“Jakariah Mobius Thomas Cretchley, you get your butt inside and take that test!” His mother screeched.
Jak huddled in on himself and stood, slouched past his mother. She followed him out. “I swear Jak, I will put a DNA lock on this shed if you don’t start paying attention.” She threatened.
But she always said that.
“Mom,” he whined but didn’t look at her, “it’s part of my Ancient Tech course, you can’t!”
“I can certainly monitor how much time you spend on it, young man.” She said briskly, then her tone softened and she slung an arm around his shoulders. It was a familiar feeling that surged through him, even though he knew he was too old for such comfort and if any of his friends saw, man, he’ never hear the end of being a Mommy’s boy.
“I want you to succeed in all that you do. Heaven knows you’re smarter than me or your father.” She gave him a squeeze and walked them back to the house. “You cannot imagine how proud we are of you, how much we love you. How much we…” She sighed and he heard a note of wistfulness. “We know how well you’re doing, but look at it this way: In studying ancient tech, you need to know about the times the stuff was invented; to look at the society that created it. The good and the bad. That’s why this History test is so important. Understand that, and Ancient tech will be more a breeze than it is now. I can only imagine what you’ll do in the future, son of mine, but it will be grand, no matter what you decide.”
Her faith in him was appalling. He wasn’t that confident. He wanted to study ancient tech until he knew the ins and outs of it, that was all. But her words about the society struck a chord in him. What had those people been like? Not the comp techs, he knew all about them, but those outside the area?
“Okay, Mom.” He said, without really knowing what he was agreeing to. It just seemed the right thing to say.
“Good lad. Now go on in to the Comm Room. It’s all set for you.” She used her hand to lift his slightly furry chin – he was trying to grow a beard, but it wasn’t working too well. He was proud of the growth anyway.
And there it was. That familiar smile in her eyes, in her face. That quiet look he didn’t understand but felt all the way to his toes. “Good luck, Jak.” Then she gave him a quick hug. “I’ll get your half-time snack ready.”
Jak stood in the foyer and watched his mother wander off towards the kitchen. How could she make him feel like a truant idiot and so filled with love for her at the same time? She made him feel like he could conquer the world while chastising him.
He clicked his tongue in frustration and went into the communications room. He stood on the threshold.
Inside the room was a recliner chair. In pockets on either side of the back were the wired tabs he would put to his temples. On the arms were gloves.
Had he studied enough? Did he know enough? God, if he failed… He looked over his shoulder at the freedom the front door represented. He could hear his mother, humming some inane tune, in the kitchen. No, he couldn’t disappoint her, but the fear of doing just that nearly made him run.
Jak forced himself into the room; to sit down and attach the tabs to his temples and don the gloves. He wriggled around to get comfortable, knowing that it wasn’t his body that was uneasy but his mind.
With a few bracing breaths he closed his eyes and initiated contact.
The comm room disappeared and was replaced by an old-fashioned university lecture hall. Everyone in the room was holographic, and kids were popping in and out at random.
“Yo, Ri-uh.” His friend called and nudged him. Through the confines of the chair, he felt the contact.
“Yo, Bradders, wassup?” He turned to his best pal, Bradley Albert Grendal Munce.
The two boys were similar in appearance, with long, unruly brown hair and baggy, ill-fitting clothes. They were the epitome of school fashion.
“Nutin’. Ready for this?”
Jak shrugged. “Dunno. What’s the dig?”
Brad leaned towards him. “The ride is multiple.”
“Oh, man.” Jak groaned. “Everything?”
Brad nodded with an evil grin. “You be doin’ the tech again?”
“Yeah. Nearly had it beat, too.”
“So sad, too bad, move on.”
Jak punched his shoulder.
“Okay, okay, listen up.” Professor Gant popped into view at the front of the class. He smoothed his grey comb-over into place and went on without waiting for silence. “Today’s test is on history. All of it. So those of you who studied particular eras are gonna be pissed.”
There were groans from the auditorium.
“Hey, did I not tell you assholes to be prepared for anything? Is that not a big enough clue?”
“Bugger did say that.” Brad said out of the corner of his mouth.
“Oh, yay.”
“As a relief to you all,” Gant went on, “the break will come at, oh, the mid-19th century, if you make it that far. Remember that you can exit the program at any time, but should you do so, it will be up to that time that you will be marked on. Ready to engage?”
“See you on the other side of the Industrial Revolution, bud.” Brad murmured just before Jak’s immediate surroundings dissolved and he found himself watching a battle. The noise and the smell were indescribable. He was splashed with blood and other viscera, had soldiers yelling in his face, the occasional sword or axe pass through him on their way to the opposing soldier. He flinched anyway and shook his head.
He studied the uniforms, such as they were, the weaponry and listened for the language involved. When he was satisfied, he rolled his shoulders and spoke: “Rome versus Boudicca.” He said clearly.
“More information, please.” A woman’s pleasant voice crooned in his ear.
“Ah.” Damn, who were they? When did this happen? “Suetonius with the Fourteenth and Twentieth legions battled Queen Boudicea in 62 A.D. after his treacherous treatment of the… the… Iceni…? The Roman legions were victorious and the Queen poisoned herself rather than be captured.”
The scene dissolved to an area where white-robed men mingled. They wore strange head gear and spoke in an odd dialect. Still… it was familiar enough.
Oh, yeah, he knew this one. “The assassination of Julius Caesar in March 44 A.D.”
“You are in error.” The voice said and Jak winced. He had one more chance at this. He watched as one man went down on one knee to another. He didn’t understand the language, but he turned when the kneeling man pointed.
Riders on horseback approached, yelling and screaming. They wore chain mail, with surcoats and brandished swords, maces or lances.
“The Crusades,” he breathed with awe. “1100… Um… to 1300 A.D. when Jerusalem was finally lost to Islam. Noted for King Richard of England, Saladin, the Knights Templar and the atrocities committed on both sides, more than any religious significance.”
Again the scene dissolved and Jak wiped the sweat from his forehead. This was going to be a tough ask, he thought as a new scene developed.
For three hours he wandered down the history time-line of humanity, until he hit the stinking, blackened factories of the Industrial Revolution. Dirty, smelly, children dressed in rags begged in the street, their pale faces shining through the dirt. They were bare foot mostly, emaciated or were missing limbs from the lack of safety in the factories.
“A time of great upheaval,” he said and walked around a particularly disturbing hollow-eyed waif. “Many people who’d previously worked the land went to the cities to find jobs, but only found long hours and dangerous working conditions. They were paid a pittance and were poverty-stricken for most of their lives. The death rate was appalling by accidents and chronic illness, but compensated for by an increase in birth rates to ensure that some of the children survived to work in the factories. Education was for those who could afford it and not work in the mills and factories. Medicine was still in its infancy and barbaric by current standards, but there were riches to be had for those savvy enough to invest in the inventions that created mass production. It was also a time of social unrest and the genesis of modern society. It was the end of a solely agrarian society and the Western World, as it was known then, made the leap into technology. The Revolution segued into the Atomic Era and…”
“Thank you, Jakariah Mobius Thomas Cretchley, we will resume following an hour’s break.” The woman broke into his speech. “Please be aware that failure to complete this test will result in a downgraded of your marks.”
Jak tugged off the gloves and the tabs and slowly opened his eyes. He lay there for a moment to re-orientate himself to the twenty-sixth century.
History, while interesting, sure could be a drag sometimes.
And that kid, he thought. I wonder what happened to him or her?
He climbed off the recliner and wandered into the kitchen where his mother was watching the soaps on the dimensional projector. A blond-haired actor held a brunette woman in his arms, professing undying love for her and not to go to Capricornica Five with his half-brother by his mother and the man who she thought was her uncle but in reality was actually his uncle who…
“Days of our Lives?” He asked and reached for the sandwich she’d made for him. He bit into it. Neo-beef, coolio.
She waved a hand at him. “Corinne is about to find out that River is really her brother and that his child by his second marriage, that’s Brook, by the way, is actually her…” She turned and looked at him. “Oh! How did it go?”
He shrugged. “Let me put it this way, Mom: I’m sure glad we live in a modern society.” He shook his head and looked at his sandwich. That waif could have done with this. “What those people had to go through, it’s depressing.”
“Without them, we wouldn’t be here, sweetie.” Her eyes drifted to the almost solid holograms cavorting naked in front of her.
“Yeah.” He slumped down next to her and chewed on his sandwich, watched the show. “Think this will get another Oscaremmy this year?” He asked.
“Absolutely, Jak. History, my boy, is all well and good, but you can’t beat real-life drama like this.”
Copyright © 2006 Jaye Patrick
The two-tone bleat and Game Over flashing across the screen told him he wouldn’t be ‘getting’ it today. His narrow shoulders slumped and he gently placed the ‘joystick’ next to the ‘keyboard’ with a sigh. He shut the ‘computer’ down, covered it with the magnetic dust repeller and hung his head.
“Tomorrow,” he patted the box. “Tomorrow, my escape from Castle Wolfenstein will be complete.”
The wood polymer door flung open behind him and scorching sunlight streamed into the shed.
“Jakariah Mobius Thomas Cretchley, you get your butt inside and take that test!” His mother screeched.
Jak huddled in on himself and stood, slouched past his mother. She followed him out. “I swear Jak, I will put a DNA lock on this shed if you don’t start paying attention.” She threatened.
But she always said that.
“Mom,” he whined but didn’t look at her, “it’s part of my Ancient Tech course, you can’t!”
“I can certainly monitor how much time you spend on it, young man.” She said briskly, then her tone softened and she slung an arm around his shoulders. It was a familiar feeling that surged through him, even though he knew he was too old for such comfort and if any of his friends saw, man, he’ never hear the end of being a Mommy’s boy.
“I want you to succeed in all that you do. Heaven knows you’re smarter than me or your father.” She gave him a squeeze and walked them back to the house. “You cannot imagine how proud we are of you, how much we love you. How much we…” She sighed and he heard a note of wistfulness. “We know how well you’re doing, but look at it this way: In studying ancient tech, you need to know about the times the stuff was invented; to look at the society that created it. The good and the bad. That’s why this History test is so important. Understand that, and Ancient tech will be more a breeze than it is now. I can only imagine what you’ll do in the future, son of mine, but it will be grand, no matter what you decide.”
Her faith in him was appalling. He wasn’t that confident. He wanted to study ancient tech until he knew the ins and outs of it, that was all. But her words about the society struck a chord in him. What had those people been like? Not the comp techs, he knew all about them, but those outside the area?
“Okay, Mom.” He said, without really knowing what he was agreeing to. It just seemed the right thing to say.
“Good lad. Now go on in to the Comm Room. It’s all set for you.” She used her hand to lift his slightly furry chin – he was trying to grow a beard, but it wasn’t working too well. He was proud of the growth anyway.
And there it was. That familiar smile in her eyes, in her face. That quiet look he didn’t understand but felt all the way to his toes. “Good luck, Jak.” Then she gave him a quick hug. “I’ll get your half-time snack ready.”
Jak stood in the foyer and watched his mother wander off towards the kitchen. How could she make him feel like a truant idiot and so filled with love for her at the same time? She made him feel like he could conquer the world while chastising him.
He clicked his tongue in frustration and went into the communications room. He stood on the threshold.
Inside the room was a recliner chair. In pockets on either side of the back were the wired tabs he would put to his temples. On the arms were gloves.
Had he studied enough? Did he know enough? God, if he failed… He looked over his shoulder at the freedom the front door represented. He could hear his mother, humming some inane tune, in the kitchen. No, he couldn’t disappoint her, but the fear of doing just that nearly made him run.
Jak forced himself into the room; to sit down and attach the tabs to his temples and don the gloves. He wriggled around to get comfortable, knowing that it wasn’t his body that was uneasy but his mind.
With a few bracing breaths he closed his eyes and initiated contact.
The comm room disappeared and was replaced by an old-fashioned university lecture hall. Everyone in the room was holographic, and kids were popping in and out at random.
“Yo, Ri-uh.” His friend called and nudged him. Through the confines of the chair, he felt the contact.
“Yo, Bradders, wassup?” He turned to his best pal, Bradley Albert Grendal Munce.
The two boys were similar in appearance, with long, unruly brown hair and baggy, ill-fitting clothes. They were the epitome of school fashion.
“Nutin’. Ready for this?”
Jak shrugged. “Dunno. What’s the dig?”
Brad leaned towards him. “The ride is multiple.”
“Oh, man.” Jak groaned. “Everything?”
Brad nodded with an evil grin. “You be doin’ the tech again?”
“Yeah. Nearly had it beat, too.”
“So sad, too bad, move on.”
Jak punched his shoulder.
“Okay, okay, listen up.” Professor Gant popped into view at the front of the class. He smoothed his grey comb-over into place and went on without waiting for silence. “Today’s test is on history. All of it. So those of you who studied particular eras are gonna be pissed.”
There were groans from the auditorium.
“Hey, did I not tell you assholes to be prepared for anything? Is that not a big enough clue?”
“Bugger did say that.” Brad said out of the corner of his mouth.
“Oh, yay.”
“As a relief to you all,” Gant went on, “the break will come at, oh, the mid-19th century, if you make it that far. Remember that you can exit the program at any time, but should you do so, it will be up to that time that you will be marked on. Ready to engage?”
“See you on the other side of the Industrial Revolution, bud.” Brad murmured just before Jak’s immediate surroundings dissolved and he found himself watching a battle. The noise and the smell were indescribable. He was splashed with blood and other viscera, had soldiers yelling in his face, the occasional sword or axe pass through him on their way to the opposing soldier. He flinched anyway and shook his head.
He studied the uniforms, such as they were, the weaponry and listened for the language involved. When he was satisfied, he rolled his shoulders and spoke: “Rome versus Boudicca.” He said clearly.
“More information, please.” A woman’s pleasant voice crooned in his ear.
“Ah.” Damn, who were they? When did this happen? “Suetonius with the Fourteenth and Twentieth legions battled Queen Boudicea in 62 A.D. after his treacherous treatment of the… the… Iceni…? The Roman legions were victorious and the Queen poisoned herself rather than be captured.”
The scene dissolved to an area where white-robed men mingled. They wore strange head gear and spoke in an odd dialect. Still… it was familiar enough.
Oh, yeah, he knew this one. “The assassination of Julius Caesar in March 44 A.D.”
“You are in error.” The voice said and Jak winced. He had one more chance at this. He watched as one man went down on one knee to another. He didn’t understand the language, but he turned when the kneeling man pointed.
Riders on horseback approached, yelling and screaming. They wore chain mail, with surcoats and brandished swords, maces or lances.
“The Crusades,” he breathed with awe. “1100… Um… to 1300 A.D. when Jerusalem was finally lost to Islam. Noted for King Richard of England, Saladin, the Knights Templar and the atrocities committed on both sides, more than any religious significance.”
Again the scene dissolved and Jak wiped the sweat from his forehead. This was going to be a tough ask, he thought as a new scene developed.
For three hours he wandered down the history time-line of humanity, until he hit the stinking, blackened factories of the Industrial Revolution. Dirty, smelly, children dressed in rags begged in the street, their pale faces shining through the dirt. They were bare foot mostly, emaciated or were missing limbs from the lack of safety in the factories.
“A time of great upheaval,” he said and walked around a particularly disturbing hollow-eyed waif. “Many people who’d previously worked the land went to the cities to find jobs, but only found long hours and dangerous working conditions. They were paid a pittance and were poverty-stricken for most of their lives. The death rate was appalling by accidents and chronic illness, but compensated for by an increase in birth rates to ensure that some of the children survived to work in the factories. Education was for those who could afford it and not work in the mills and factories. Medicine was still in its infancy and barbaric by current standards, but there were riches to be had for those savvy enough to invest in the inventions that created mass production. It was also a time of social unrest and the genesis of modern society. It was the end of a solely agrarian society and the Western World, as it was known then, made the leap into technology. The Revolution segued into the Atomic Era and…”
“Thank you, Jakariah Mobius Thomas Cretchley, we will resume following an hour’s break.” The woman broke into his speech. “Please be aware that failure to complete this test will result in a downgraded of your marks.”
Jak tugged off the gloves and the tabs and slowly opened his eyes. He lay there for a moment to re-orientate himself to the twenty-sixth century.
History, while interesting, sure could be a drag sometimes.
And that kid, he thought. I wonder what happened to him or her?
He climbed off the recliner and wandered into the kitchen where his mother was watching the soaps on the dimensional projector. A blond-haired actor held a brunette woman in his arms, professing undying love for her and not to go to Capricornica Five with his half-brother by his mother and the man who she thought was her uncle but in reality was actually his uncle who…
“Days of our Lives?” He asked and reached for the sandwich she’d made for him. He bit into it. Neo-beef, coolio.
She waved a hand at him. “Corinne is about to find out that River is really her brother and that his child by his second marriage, that’s Brook, by the way, is actually her…” She turned and looked at him. “Oh! How did it go?”
He shrugged. “Let me put it this way, Mom: I’m sure glad we live in a modern society.” He shook his head and looked at his sandwich. That waif could have done with this. “What those people had to go through, it’s depressing.”
“Without them, we wouldn’t be here, sweetie.” Her eyes drifted to the almost solid holograms cavorting naked in front of her.
“Yeah.” He slumped down next to her and chewed on his sandwich, watched the show. “Think this will get another Oscaremmy this year?” He asked.
“Absolutely, Jak. History, my boy, is all well and good, but you can’t beat real-life drama like this.”
Copyright © 2006 Jaye Patrick
Labels: Science Fiction
posted by Jaye at
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