The Reeducation Project
What do you do in a world gone mad?
Adelaide Trevor walked into the room, tablet in hand, to find a well-dressed man sitting at the interrogation table. He was in his thirties, a fine layer of stubble at his jaw in a way that did not speak of an unkempt quality, with his dark hair trimmed close to his head as if he had just gone to the barber in an effort to appeal to the edicts of the Standards that were issued to all men and women in the Republic.
“Harrison Blake, correct?” she asked as she slid into the seat across from him. His eyes jutted to hers in a jittery fashion, and she allowed a placating smile to come to her lips. “No need to be nervous. I’m just here to ask you a few questions.”
But the words only seemed to make the man more jumpy. His hands on the table tapped out a soft rhythm of sounds in staccato beats, and she had half a mind to tell him he’d be restrained if he continued in such a fashion. But, glancing down at the details on his case file on her tablet, she figured he might say something untoward if she happened to use language to that effect. In here, she had to watch her words. Words could be used against you wherever you were in the Republic.
Adelaide cleared her throat. “Let’s talk about why you were brought here today.”
