The Perpetual Motion Club (28 page)

“It’ll compromise the school’s club program,” he said. “A tramp outfit getting the stamp of approval.”

“Nonsense,” replied the dean. “The only club that comes close to ever compromising us is the Science Society and you do that yourself every year when the questionable winner of FutureWorld is one of your members.”

Mr. Brown gasped.

Ms. Phelps tittered.

Ms. Curnsom made a motion to vote which they did: 29 ayes to one nay. The Perpetual Motion Club entered into Northawken history. As well as into American history as every high school in the country would soon no longer be caught dead without its own PMC.

In the end, May, jWad, Jimmy, Christine, and Elsa had a bonafide entry on their resumes in the section for extracurricular activities. A legitimate line that stated they were the founding members of a forward-thinking new organization whose mission was to study the mystery and beauty of science and life and just about anything else.

CHAPTER TWENTY

“There’s one more thing, Mom,” Elsa said the following Sunday. Lainie was on her way to church. She stopped with a look on her face.

“Mm?” she said.

“The anti-Rifs helped finish the project, I promised I’d help them get their legislation passed.”

“What legislation is that?”

“They want RFIDs outlawed.”

“Are they nuts?”

“Maybe we could just get a law saying they can be legally removed once the wearer turns 18.”

“That’s . . . interesting. I’ll talk to Hackstraw.”

“Jeb Hackstraw? Our senator?”

“Yeah, he’s a member of the LFTT.”

“You’re kidding?”

“Nah. He’ll tell me what they need to do.”

Three years later Lainie got a law before congress allowing kids to pull their RFIDs once they reach the age of consent. It was easily passed once everyone realized the RFID was a conduit to iHigh. In fact the local parents group started their own legislation to get rid of RFIDs altogether. There were two factions then: pro and anti, so vehement in their protesting it threatened the existence of one of the most powerful American institutions, the PTA.

Naturally iHigh became more popular than ever and several students started an organization in support of RFIDs.

But that was in the future. Right now, it was graduation time for seniors. So everybody was partying.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

The final party of the year at John Twill’s, Em’s big brother, was one of those parties with no invitations. It was assumed everyone would be there. And everyone was: Jason, his entourage, a pack of anti-Rifs, even Elsa, May, Jimmy, jWad, and Christine.

The last party of the year was always a celebration for the breaking of the branding slavery chains. They were no longer required to wear the free gifts of their sponsors. The final year-end party saw a healthy group in the bloom of youth sporting not a single logo, brand, or word. Elsa, not knowing the unstated rules of sponsored life, wore her U of NC t-shirt and baseball cap. Everyone else had on casual formal wear: pressed pants, halter tops, velvet chokers, derbies. No one cared. Life awaited.

In spite of the cavalier attitude in the air, Elsa Webb managed to make a fool of herself one last time. She accidentally on purpose ran, literally, into Jason Bridges.

“Hey, Elsa,” Jason said when he turned and saw her sprawled on the ground. He was standing around the keg with a bunch of young bucks and a few does. They all laughed at Elsa and then Em Twill held out her hand to help her up.

“The project turned out great!” Em said. “I’m so glad I worked on it.”

“Yeah, the district wants to parade it around to the junior highs next year and then put it on permanent display somewhere.”

“Wow,” said the group as one.

Jason released his grasp of Ruthie Williams, captain of the field hockey team. She was a tall, thin junior, Jason’s latest. He moved forward and put his arm around Elsa’s shoulders and walked her away from the crowd. Elsa’s knees got shaky, but her newfound celebrity had braced her for encounters of the human kind. She remained sharp.

“But you choked at the end, didn’t you?” Jason.

“No, I don’t think so,” Elsa said. “We did really well. I got several offers of sponsorships and summer internships, and all kinds of stuff. And the club got sanctioned.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t win.”

“No, but you know sometimes the prize isn’t the prize, you know what I mean?”

“No,” Jason said. “But hey, do you want to get together sometime this summer? I wouldn’t mind seeing your mom again. She was great.”

Elsa’s heart leaped to her throat. But only for a moment. It took that moment for her to remember that she no longer was infatuated with Jason. She turned and saw Jimmy drinking his first beer over in a corner of the yard. He was standing next to May and jWad who seemed to be propping each other up. jWad was playing air drums to the Moby Dick solo blasting from the moldie oldies track of the party’s background music. May hung on his neck and giggled. Jimmy as usual was introspective, watching the party with a confused look as if he couldn’t figure out what the fuss was all about. Why did they care so much about fads and baubles when everything would fall into place for them if they were just honest?

She thought about his speech to her half a year ago. How was it that she hadn’t realized how much the two of them had in common? Hadn’t she fought to be honest and true to herself this whole year? Wasn’t that what Jimmy always did? She remembered, too his statement that there was a lot that she didn’t see. She was looking now and seeing that Jimmy had grown from an annoying twerp to a really fine lad. With beautiful eyes, square shoulders.

And she remembered how he’d been on her side all the times everyone else was against her. He’d even understood her through it all. He was the only one. Considering how screwed up she was, that’s saying something.

And she remembered how hurt he’d been when Jason and his friends had been in her life during that one heady two-week period. And she remembered how hurt she’d been when he didn’t show up because of it. And she remembered . . .

“Sure,” she said, answering Jason’s invitation. She untangled herself from Jason’s grip, and nodded before turning to the far corner of the yard.

“Hey, Jimmy,” she called. The Perpetual Motion Club members turned and beckoned her over.

“Spare a sip,” she said to Jimmy, reaching her hand up to the beer in his hand. He pulled it up and out of her reach, making her scrabble after it. Then he reached one arm around her.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

A big thank you to Michelle Humphrey for help in the rewrite. Thanks also goes to Dr. Bogdan Roman for help in the perpetual motion lecture in chapter 5. Hugs all around to the workshop group for their support and suggestions: Marilyn and Pat Klimcho, Clem Page, Dottie Allyn, Liz Clark, Doug Arnold, Frank Mulligan, Jim Hubbard, Ozzie, Liz Drozda, Bryan Wang, Nancy Orlando, Susan Pingitore, Shirley Mainello, Charlotte Anderson, and Ruth Doelp.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Sue Lange has two published works of speculative fiction satire. Her first novel,
Tritcheon Hash
, was republished as an ebook by Book View Cafe in 2011, and was included in Kirkus’ best of list for that year. Her second novel,
We, Robots
, was included in io9′s 13 Stories that will change the way you look at Robots list. Her short fiction has been published in
Futures (Nature)
,
Adbusters, Apex Digest of Science Fiction and Horror
, and elsewhere. She lives in Pennsylvania with a dog, two cats, and a refrigerator.