Chapter 10

Wednesday

Marissa

General Studies is a curious lesson, all in all. The exam is a sort of 'A' Level in General Knowledge, and pretty much totally meaningless. I don't know of a single university that will accept it on an application, but they make us do it here anyway. Which means, once a week, we all gather together to listen to some guest speaker and have a little debate or question and answer session. Some of them are vaguely interesting, most of them aren't.

Today, we walked in, and there was only Dr Adams waiting for us. No guest speaker today, it seems.

Everyone filed in, slowly, some curious but most steeling themselves for another hour and a half of dullness, and I took my usual seat somewhere near the edge, with Alban and his crowd quickly gathering round. The bell was just ringing as Kelly and Connor snuck in, ending up beside us by default. She didn't let go of his arm until they sat down, and he automatically sought out Alban, of course.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen." Dr Adams began. "I'd like to start, if I may, by asking our four programme participants to come up to the front, and take a seat. Sure enough, now that I looked, there were four seats there. I didn't move, Alban didn't move, and Kelly seemed off in a world of her own. It was Connor, of all people, that got up.

"Thank you, Connor. Marissa, Kelly, Alban, you as well, please." I hated this, this wasn't just being on display, this was being an exhibit, for Gods sake. I must have looked like some evolutionary leap in the beetroot family as I walked up, clutching my bag.

"Hey, she's covering up." Someone called. I don't have Kelly's talent for recognising voices.

"Tony." Alban's call was quiet, but there was some abashed muttering from around there.

"Lower your bag, please, Marissa." Dr Adams asked, with a smile, and Alban gave me a sympathetic look.

"How come he's got clothes on?" That voice I recognised. Andrew McBride. Alban turned to stare towards the back — of course — but it was Pete that took that challenge up.

"See, he just wants to see Alban's naked body... I told you he was one of us." He's going to get himself in trouble if he keeps this up.

"Before we get into the discussions..." Dr Adams cut across them all, "would any of you like to take up the offer of relief? Miss Wright?"

"No." I thought I'd made this clear before.

"Are you sure? I have it on good authority that you've not taken up the offer at all this week."

"I said no, I mean no." There was just the slightest hint of a quiver in my voice then, I knew it, but I wasn't going to back down. It was embarrassing just thinking about it with all those people watching. Did I want it? Not really, not relief... I mean, there's something sort of degrading about doing it because of an urge, or at least, about being prepared to do it in front of an audience because you have an urge. Do it because you want to do it, not because your seat's damp.

"Very well... Mr Darch."

"No."

"Are you..."

"Very sure." He snapped, and there was a real venom in his voice. He wasn't embarrassed or uncomfortable at being up the front he was angry. His face was calm, normal, no real expression at all, but his eyes blazed with it.

"Miss Moore?" She just sat in her seat, where Connor had guided her, a million miles away. "Miss Moore? Kelly..."

"Oh, sorry?" she shook her head a little. "What?"

"I was asking if you wanted to take up the offer of relief?"

"Oh, no, thank you." I don't know if anyone else saw it, but Connor slumped. I was looking along the line at them, Dr Adams was stood behind Kelly's chair, and everyone else was out in front of us, so they wouldn't have been looking at him, but he just... slumped.

"Mr Murphy?"

"Um... no... no thank you." He finally managed. Dr Adams just seemed to shrug, disappointed.

"Well, with that over with, we'll move onto the discussion for today. We've been looking at the spread of liberalism in the past decade or so, and today it seemed logical that we look at the Programme."

The general air of apathy started to evaporate as a few of the more alert realised something interesting might actually happen.

"I'd like each of the four of you to relate a little of why you're here, how things have been this week so we can look at how this affects us."

"Why pick on us?" Alban snapped back, and that tone caught the rest of the room. He was wound up tight, ready for a fight.

"So defensive, Alban?" Dr Adams tried to jest.

"You singled us out for a reason. If you're having a discussion, that reason seems important."

"You are the four people in the Programme, after all."

"Not really, we're just the four people that some idiot decided should be naked." I remember who that 'idiot' was, it was hard not to smile. "I read the pamphlet, I read the other diaries. I liked 'We're all in The Program. Sure, I may be the only one naked, but that just means that it's my body everyone has to become comfortable with.'*"

"I see what you say, Alban, but you four have a unique perspective on this."

"Everyone has a unique perspective on everything." Connor turned his attention the other way, I don't think I remember Connor ever speaking up in General Studies. "We're all different, different experiences, different beliefs — no-one looks at anything the same way as the person next to them."

"That's the problem with the Programme, with liberalism in general." Alban took up the baton, the pair of them flitting the words back and forth. "We got rid of religions and totalitarianism because it was telling us we had to believe this or that, and now we have libertarians telling us we can't believe in anything, can't object to anything, can't keep anything for ourselves. This is my body, my life, and it's my choice who I do or don't let into it, not yours, not some parliamentary committee, not the Department for Education and Skills."

"There are those who'll volunteer to go naked," Connor pointed out, "and some who won't have a choice but will be made to do it."

"But we all have to watch. All have to take part." Alban finished off. "That's wrong. I don't want anything to do with it, I don't want my privacy invaded, and I don't want to be party to anyone else's privacy being invaded. Religions tried to force everyone to believe the same thing — now liberalism is assuming we already do." Now that things were more general, off him in particular, he was starting to relax into things a little.

"What've you got to hide?" Phil shouted from the back row — he doesn't have the intellect to phrase a question the same day he thinks of it, so he was obviously asking for someone else. I expected Alban to deny it, but he didn't.

"It doesn't matter what I'm hiding, it's my life to hide."

"What are you afraid of people seeing, Alban?" Dr Adams cut in, and you could see the tension come back like whipcrack.

"It's not about fear." Connor supplied for him. "We're not like you, we've had to bring ourselves up, we've had to forge our own lives. It's us against the world, to a large extent, and so you come to rely on yourself. There are friends, but we don't open up easily, we don't just let the world in."

"Don't you think that's a sad way to live?" Kelly asked, suddenly, snapping out of her funk for a minute. "I mean... I'm... I'm here trying to let anyone into my life, I'm fed up with being stuck on the sidelines all the time."

"I'm not." Alban answered. "I like the sidelines."

"You're not exactly on the sidelines, Alban." Kelly told him. "I mean, everyone knows who you are. Even my Dad knows who you are."

They don't I realised, just then. They know the name, they know the face, but they don't really know the guy inside, none of us do. I mean, how well do you ever know anyone? I've lived with my mum from the day I was born, but I didn't really think she'd stick me in the Programme.

"See, you're doing it again — this isn't a public discussion, it's my life." Alban's tension cranked up another notch, his shoulders hunching a little more.

"You're part of a community, Alban. Your life weaves in with other lives." Dr Adams pointed out.

"Not by choice." The audience had perked up at the start looking for something interesting; they got it.

Alban walked out.

Alban

I can't believe the nerve of that guy, I really can't. Where the hell does he get off trying to turn General Studies into a counselling session? That wasn't just bang out of order, that was verging on professional misconduct.

"Alban Darch, we haven't finished yet!" I hadn't reached the doors, I'd actually begun to wonder if he'd just let me go — no such luck. What to do? I could just keep walking — I wanted to keep walking — but there was a lot riding on me. I got a lot of leeway and respect because I didn't rock the boat, I found a way to make things work within the rules. Adams wasn't just going to let this go, there was a reason he was pushing this, and I had to find out what it was to stop it. And I couldn't do that from outside.

"We? I wasn't aware there was a we? There's you, and depending on the circumstances, there's us or there's me. Right now, there's me. I'm leaving, because this doesn't involve me. This is supposed to be about 'self-realisation', 'growth' all that happy new-age, neo-hippy stuff. I know who I am. I'm happy with who I am. I'm complete enough that I manage to get by just fine. I don't need this, so I'll leave you and your energies to those who do need the help."

"What makes you think you don't need help?" McBride commented, obviously enjoying this. "What makes you so perfect?" They were closing in, you could feel it. Like sharks sensing blood in the water, they were ready, circling like vultures, waiting for the confirmation that something was dead — something was about to break. I needed to defuse this.

"I am who I am." I told him. "Perfect people are for fairy-tales and Hollywood. I have faults, I've made mistakes, I hope I've learnt from them."

"What do you think your faults are?" Dr Adams pounced on that one.

"If I don't tell you that in counselling, what the hell makes you think I'm going to tell you in front of all these people?" I couldn't keep them all in view, which didn't help, you never know when one of them's trying to sneak up behind you. I just wanted to get away, get them all out of my face for a while, get back into the background. I was starting snap at people which was never a good sign.

"You're prepared to admit you have faults, but not what they are? What are you afraid of?" Why doesn't he just leave it alone?

"Why does it always come down to fear with you? It's not about fear, it's about privacy."

"Isn't privacy just about not wanting to risk letting people know too much about you in case they turn it against you?" Savannah's in psychology, she thinks it's the be-all and end-all of existence. This was probably verging on heresy for me to be arguing with a gasp psychologist!

"Perhaps, but that isn't fear, it's good sense." Was she really that stupid? "I'm not afraid of dogs, but I don't go sticking my hand in their mouths. I'm not afraid of being burgled, but I don't leave my door-key hanging from a peg in the porch. I'm not afraid of the world at large, but I'm not going to go and hand out all my secrets to everyone. The world's a hard place, none of you seem to realise that, locked up safe at night behind your parents' beneficence."

"Evan doesn't seem to have your paranoia." Dr Adams commented. Paranoia? Right... and the whole room turning on me is my imagination?