The van opened up and all of the bags were pulled out to allow room for the pack to exit. John caught sight of the first guard just as Lestrade started screaming in the front of the van.
"Don't panic." Sherlock assured John. The guards looked completely non-threatening to John. They were quite possibly even shorter than him. They wore black trousers and black work shirts with yellow and black epaulets. The brim of their caps also contained the same contrasting black and yellow bands along with the symbol of a rearing horn-less unicorn. John struggled to remember what the creature was called.
Lestrade kept shouting in the front of the van. "Keep me safe!" John looked through the grate to see he had a death grip on Mary and was refusing to let her unlock the doors.
Sherlock grabbed George and Michael and exited the van. Michael screamed and buried his face into Sherlock's shoulder when he saw the guards. George was paralyzed with fear as he stared the guard's cap.
Mycroft groaned and stood up. He stretched out his neck and took Milo with him to exit the van. John picked up Jonah and held on to him tightly. He covered Jonah's eyes as they stepped down and outside into the bright sunlight. He saw Lestrade's limp body being dragged from the front of the van.
John had a moment of panic.
"We just gave him a mild sedative." The guard said with a kind smile. "He'll be right as rain once the drug is excreted." John nodded and started moving. He looked back every once in a while to check on Lestrade who was being carried by two very unfortunate guards.
"What is this place?" John asked as he started to see the shapes of pitched roofs in the distance.
"Glasgow." The guard said as he pressed a device to John's shoulder. John jolted when the thing stabbed him. It beeped as it took a reading. "Clean." He said with a grin.
John looked around the outskirts of the city. "There's no wall."
"Edinburgh has the wall."
"Excuse me, where?" John asked the guard.
"We're in the suburban area of Scotland."
John looked side to side. "Where?"
The guard pulled up his wrist to reveal a small tablet-like device. "Scotland." He said slowly. "Is here." He zoomed out. "England is here. And there's Wales and the island off to the side is Ireland."
"That's amazing." John stated.
"Don't the Lambdas have anything like it?"
"Well of course... but our maps... they... just show England." John blushed. "They don't have that little Ireland thing on the side."
The guard snorted a laugh. "Looks like someone's going to be attending classes."
"Classes?"
"Everyone needs to obtain a degree to work in Glasgow."
"A degree?"
"From the university." John looked at him blankly. "Where you go to class... to get a degree..."
"Oh!" John said with a nod, though he really didn't follow. They started walking further into the city where there were detached houses, John looked at them strange. "How many families live in each?"
"Just one."
"They look... small..."
"They're bigger on the inside." The guard shrugged. "They're all newer builds, within the last century. After Glasgow burned to the ground the third time-"
"Burned to the ground?" John asked worried.
"Well... First time was ages ago. Back when football was everywhere." The guard looked at John. "Don't know what football is either?" John shook his head. "Violent game, players wore spikes on their feet and used to kick each other trying to get a small round sphere into a net. Fans were crazy about the sport. They'd kill someone if they spoke poorly of their team. Didn't matter who won, the losing team's fans would riot."
"Is that how Glasgow burned?"
"Oh no, that was from an air-raid." The guard laughed. "The second time was also an air-raid... and the third... Hey! Bradstreet, what's the third?"
The guard escorting Mycroft and Milo turned and looked at him strange. "The third what?"
"Third time our city burned down."
"Football, wasn't it?"
"No the whole city."
"Oh... third time? Air-raid I believe."
"So... where was I going with this?" The guard asked John who laughed.
"I don't know."
They both began chattering away amiably. John felt at ease with the... well he wasn't quite certain what the guard was. He wasn't forced to wear any patches on his chest other than his given name 'Tobias'. He had blond hair and soft brown eyes. He was a bit on the short side, even for a beta. John built up the courage and finally asked, "What are you?"
"I'm an Omicron."
"But you're not royalty." John said looking over him. "At least... I hope not."
"Unlike the Lambdas, who put themselves above their citizens, the Omicron royalty are part of our population. That's why our blood line has lasted generations. We don't in-breed."
"But... you still have betas, Alphas, and Omegas?"
"In a sense... yes." He said with a nod. "Only we don't use derogatory terms like 'beta'. We prefer to call them Omi-commoners."
John wasn't sure that made beta sound any better. "What about the Alphas and Omegas?"
"That's where things become a bit more complicated..." The guard furrowed his brows as he thought about how to explain it. "We have our own Omegas which were produced by the crown and are indeed Omicrons. Like Milo." He said with a smile. "She is a pure Omicron. Therefore we give her the designation Omega-Omicron. Others like your partner would be an Omega-outlander."
"What about the Alphas?"
"Ah..." The guard said smacking his lips. "We don't have Alphas." John looked at him in horror. "No, no. We have them, it's just, the Omicrons don't have Alpha offspring. Hasn't happened, not ever."
"So which are you? An Omega-Omicron or an Omi...com..adore..."
"Omi-commoner." He laughed. "Oh... and no. Wait." He laughed once more. "I'm an Omeg-Om. Not an om-com. You'll get used to the lingo, I swear."
"How do you..." John looked him over. "You know?"
"Reproduce?" The guard offered. "Easy. An Om-com is paired with another Om-com or an Omeg-om, and makes a filly or a colt."
"Can the Omega-outlanders breed?"
"If they want, but they're often paired with an Alpha. Usually leads to greater reproductive success."
"But hypothetically your betas... I mean om-coms can breed with an Omega-outlander and make a viable offspring?"
"They run the risk of still-birth, but occasionally they produce as you said, 'a viable offspring'. We don't exactly recommend such pairings, but it has happened before."
"Fascinating." John said.
"You should go into genetics at the university... you know, once you pass your stage three curriculum. How long did you go to school for?"
"I was eleven when I started working."
"Eleven years, not too bad."
"I started when I was six."
"Oh." The guard said with a low voice. "That is bad... Our fivers probably have a better education than you, no joke. Why did you start so late?"
"Everyone starts school around five."
"Starts?" He asked in disbelief. "Here we start from birth! Five is a transition stage! They've already graduated their primary education."
"So the boys are..."
"Nearly a year behind the other colts." He said trying to hide his smile. "We'll get them caught up, don't worry. One year's the blink of an eye... don't know about your forty years though." He giggled.
In the city-town of Glasgow, learning was life-long. The foal was put in the schooling institution only a few days after they were born. At age five they transitioned from primary to secondary school where they would form a career identity. At age ten they were given the choice of career based on their skill set and personal interests. In tertiary education they honed their skills and built on their core knowledge. At age fifteen they were no longer colts and fillies but rather they were full members of the herd.
There they moved on to quaternary education to master their skill set and from then on they were put to work, where they would continue to learn through their workplace as their career developed and adapted to their changing world.
The Omicrons tried their best to accommodate John's unique 'herd'. When they brought their pack into the clerk's office to be recorded, there was an overwhelming amount of confusion as to who married whom, who was mating with whom, and which foal belonged to which set.
"Um... I'm just going to put down polygamist omi-cluster." The clerk said with a laugh. "Michael Sherrinford Holmes, aged fourteen months. Alpha. He'll be with the Ones. George Hamish Watson, aged nine months? My, he's a big one..." John held up George who was almost the size of Michael. "He was born premature?" The clerk asked in disbelief. "Wow." The clerk tapped his stylus on his desk. "We'll do an evaluation on him. See where he fits." The clerk stood and held out his hands for George.
John handed George over the desk and the clerk sat George in front of his computer screen and clicked on a program. Four faces popped up, displaying different emotions including: angry, sad, scared, and surprised. "George, which is happy?" George smiled at the clerk. "Yes, happy. Good." The clerk clicked to the next screen. "Look at the dot in the centre of the screen, George. What happens to the blue halo around the dot?" George gave the screen two different looks. He blinked and started searching the screen with his eyes. "Good, George. Last one." He pulled up a pattern of black and yellow bands and George burst into tears.
"Mum-muma!" He said reaching out for John.
"What a clever colt." The clerk said as John took George and wiped his tears away. "Next we have Jonah..." The clerk stopped and cleared his throat. "Sigerson." He said in a hoarse whisper.
"Change it to Sherlock." Sherlock said with a diffident shrug.
The clerk nodded. "Jonah... Sh-Sherlock Holmes." The clerk let out a slow controlled breath. He gave a loud cough. "Jonah is nine months as well and a... Lambda-Alpha..." He said with a smirk. "Glad to have you among our ranks." He looked towards Jonah. "He's quite smaller than his brother." The clerk hummed. He looked deep into Jonah's eyes.
The clerk pulled open a drawer in his desk and withdrew a bag of plastic chips. He placed three on left and five on the right. "Jonah which has more?" Jonah stared at the clerk. The clerk placed the bag behind his back. "You don't know that the bag has more, what if it has less? Which pile has more?" Jonah looked away disinterested. The clerk clicked his tongue. "So it's decided: Jonah and Milo will be with the new foals and Michael and George will join the Ones."
The clerk sent copies of their records to their consolidated 'notebooks'. John instantly preferred the notebook to the eReader, eMagazine, eDocuments, tablet, readers, and mobiles he had in London. The notebook was small enough to fit in a wrist carrier, but large enough to read ebooks on and complete tasks that would have otherwise required a computer.
The four men were required to take a brief aptitude test in front of the clerk; similar to the one George took.
The notebook began counting down:
You may begin in 5, 4, 3, 2,
Welcome to the Standardized Testing Apparatus for Beginning Life Etudiants (STABLE)
Let's begin with a sample question:
Hay is to horse as corn is to:
Eat, barn, chickens, or farm
John stared at the question. "What's a horse?" John asked out loud. The clerk snorted a laugh and pointed to the symbol above his desk. "Oh!" A horn-less unicorn. John looked at the four words of which he only knew one. So he picked it.
Try again.
He chose barn.
Try again.
It was either chickens or farm. He wasn't sure what hay was but he knew that corn was food and you eat food, but eat was wrong. He didn't know what barn was. Farm sounded like a beast and a horse was a beast, so he chose barn.
John Hamish Watson. Score: 0
Begin stage 0
John looked at his notebook sadly. He hadn't made it past the practice problem. He wasn't sure what that meant. Sherlock finished next and looked up from his screen.
"What did you get?" John asked.
"Stage four, quaternary."
Mycroft smirked as he finished. "I scored a perfect score."
"Congratulations." The clerk said. "You're ready for the workforce then."
Lestrade looked up from his notebook with a sad face.
"Let me guess, stage zero?"
"Stage one." Lestrade said with furrowed brows. He stilled looked loopy from the sedative. "I'm gonna be in with five year olds?"
"The five year olds are in stage 2." The clerk clarified. "So... no."
Lestrade pouted at his results. "What'd you get, John?"
"Like I said... zero."
"But... The pups are in stage 1..." Mycroft said with confusion.
"John is going to go through a special program, where he is going to be re-evaluated. Zero isn't a precursor to stage one."
"How many people are in stage zero?" John asked.
"One... you." The clerk said with a sympathetic smile.