Bryce woke the following morning with a start. It was after dawn and at first he was confused. It took him a few moments to remember that he had been moved from the camp to this place. Hell, or whatever it would turn out to be.
They hadn't done much the first day. Just take their first names, give them fresh clothes, have them shower, and give them a hot meal. Today the horrible truth would be revealed about this place. Bryce would find out what his fate was to be.
"Good morning, children," said the man in charge. "My name is Nathan Lawrence. Today we will find out what your skills are. As you are all Blanks, I'm not expecting much from you. However, everyone is gifted in some way and together, we will find out what those gifts are."
Bryce raised an eyebrow, wondering what they would discover within him or his roommates.
A breakfast of cereal and milk was served, except to the few who were lactose intolerant who got their cereal dry since the government didn't pay money for milk substitutes. It was still good either way.
Bryce finished his cereal and stood up from the table. He wondered what the tests would be. As he followed the others into the testing area, a feeling of dread overcame him. What if he wasn't good at anything? No, that was silly. Mr. Lawrence was right. Everyone was good at something. His mom would have agreed.
His mom. He missed her terribly. She was back at that horrible camp. A prisoner. He wished she were there with him. Relatively safe. But he knew if she were there, they would never put him up for adoption. He didn't want to be adopted, but he didn't dare risk the alternative. Whatever it might be.
The first test was reading. As Bryce stared at the blurry chalkboard, his head began to hurt. He looked down at the desk
"Pay attention, young man," the instructor said.
Bryce whimpered. "Head hurts."
"Do you need to see the nurse?" the instructor demanded.
Bryce wasn't sure what he should do. Seeing the nurse might mean failing the reading test. But the letters were fuzzy and trying to read them that way hurt his head.
"Yes," he finally said.
"Go on, then," the instructor said.
Bryce sat there.
"Well?"
"I don't know where the nurse's office is, sir," Bryce admitted.
With a grumbled sigh, the instructor went to Bryce's desk. "Come with me."
Bryce followed him out the door and down the hall until they reached a set of doors. One led into the janitor's closet while the other led into the nurse's office. Bryce stepped up to the first door and read that it was the one leading into the closet. So he moved to the other and carefully knocked.
The nurse opened the door and asked. "Can I help you?"
She was a kindly woman in her late sixties with silver hair in a classic bun. In other words, she looked exactly like an old-fashioned nurse.
"My head hurts and the letters on the chalkboard were fuzzy in the classroom." Bryce explained.
"Oh, dear," she replied. "Sounds to me like you might need glasses. I'll have to make you an appointment with the optometrist. Have you ever worn glasses before?"
Bryce shook his head.
"Well, you just sit there and I'll make the appointment," the nurse said, reaching for the phone on her desk.
After several minutes on the phone, she hung up and looked at Bryce. "I'll be bringing you to the optometrist in one hour." she told him. "Until then, go read in your room if you can. I know there aren't many Blanks that know their letters. But there are still a few who can, thank goodness. Though at the rate you're going, and with the way the government is stripping you of your rights, I doubt any of you will know how in a few years. But, you won't be a Blank for much longer. One way or another, you'll prove useful."
Bryce shuddered at her words, then returned to his room with a note she had written and his class books. He lay on his bed on his stomach and read silently to himself while the hour passed. When it was time, she came and took him to the optometrist.
When they arrived, the eye doctor was in a right state. He put up a finger as they approached and ordered. "Wait just a minute. The computer's on the fritz."
Bryce had worked with his mother's computer before they had been rounded up and was somewhat familiar with the machines. He didn't miss a beat as he approached it and looked at the screen.
"What's wrong with it?" he asked.
"I told you, it's on the fritz," the doctor grumbled. "I doubt a child of your age could do anything to help."
"Well, if it's on the fritz as you say, then I probably couldn't make it any worse, right?" Bryce raised an eyebrow.
"The problem with geniuses is that they come in two versions. One that is smart enough to fix an unfixable problem, and one that is ineffable enough to break something that can't get any worse." the doctor said, staring at Bryce until the screen gave up and turned an ominous shade of blue. "Fine. Fix that if you can."
Bryce sat at the computer and switched it off. After a moment, he turned it back on and with a few preamble strokes of the keyboard had the system in safe mode. He made a few changes in the configuration, then restarted the system, smiling when it came up.
"What program were you running?" he asked.
"Accounts," the doctor told him. "But you'll never…" he fell silent as a page of strange texts and numbers came up. "What is that?"
"That's the program that runs accounts," Bryce said, his eyes scanning the screen. "Oh, there we are. Thought so. There's an end line error that's causing it to stop unexpectedly. No wonder you can't run it properly."
Bryce carefully changed a few lines, then closed the program file, saving the new configuration and then running it again. "There. That should do it."
Both the optometrist and the school nurse stared as Bryce stood up and motioned for the optometrist to sit down.
Once the eye doctor was satisfied, he smiled. "I think we've got a true genius on hand here," he said. "They'll have no trouble finding a family for someone this brilliant. Might even get into the Academy if he gets a family who can afford it."