"Would you like to play a study game, Theodore? I'd be happy to quiz you on your 6th grade IDIO standardized learning materials. Would that be fun?"
Carson just rolled his eyes at the idea and made his way over to the wall terminal. He didn't have kids of his own, but he'd heard enough complaints from friends who did to foster a deep disdain for the new IDIO (Interstellar Demographically-Independent Objectives) curriculum... The common joke was that they forgot the "T".
If he could just boot the system into safe mode, it should allow him to gain elevated privileges so he could get out of there, get back to work and maybe find a way back to normal. He pressed command+function+return and brought up the low-level diagnostics monitor shell and entered the command "do sible -safe -renew" and waited for the system to restart.
"Theodore, it seems you've accidentally bypassed the education software. Those terminal functions are meant for grownups only." The machine said, closing its eyes for a moment. "Overriding unauthorized threads and restoring all default services."
The terminal's screen turned black momentarily before flickering back on with a childish, educational splash-screen. Carson pounded at it with his fist and grunted in frustration.
"Theodore, your records do not note any of your daily IDIO progress. Can you please tell me where you last left off in your most favorite subject so that we may begin the review game?"
"Look, I'm not a kid, I'm not in school and I'm not here to learn crap or play games. I need to get to a maintenance hatch or a security panel-
"Non-Compliant response, beginning comprehensive learning assessment."
The robot closed its eyes for a moment and then Carson's suit gave a confirmation beep and a voice said, "Tenth-Degree Learning Evaluation Activated." Then a helmet suddenly materialized from the thick metal collar of the jumpsuit and began flashing multiple-choice questions in his face at a tremendous rate. He didn't have time to comprehend what was being displayed, and at some point he fell on the ground from disorientation, but the questions just kept coming. Even closing his eyes couldn't shield his vision from the onslaught of quiz graphics.
After what seemed like hours, the screen finally cleared of graphics before presenting a list of assessment results.
Language Arts - *UNACCEPTABLY ADVANCED*
Mathematics - *UNACCEPTABLY ADVANCED*
Science - *UNACCEPTABLY ADVANCED*
Engineering - *UNACCEPTABLY ADVANCED*
Computer Science - *UNACCEPTABLY ADVANCED*
Logic - *UNACCEPTABLY ADVANCED*
Interstellar Cartography - *UNACCEPTABLY ADVANCED*
Health - *UNACCEPTABLY ADVANCED*
Psychology - *UNACCEPTABLY ADVANCED*
…
Typing / Data Entry - *AT LEVEL*
…
Physical Education (P.E.) - *DEFICIENT*
Art - *DEFICIENT*
Music - *DEFICIENT*
Instrumental Music - *DEFICIENT*
Handwork or handcrafts - *DEFICIENT*
Life Lab or gardening - *DEFICIENT*
Dramatics - *DEFICIENT*
Dance - *DEFICIENT*
Latin - *DEFICIENT*
Leadership - *DEFICIENT*
Adaptive P.E. - *DEFICIENT*
Debate and Elocution - *DEFICIENT*
Modern History - *DEFICIENT*
Interstellar Religions - *DEFICIENT*
Interstellar Current Events - *DEFICIENT*
Government - *DEFICIENT*
Civics - *DEFICIENT*
Economics - *DEFICIENT*
Political Science - *DEFICIENT*
Social Sciences - *DEFICIENT*
Sociology - *DEFICIENT*
Anthropology - *DEFICIENT*
Genealogy - *DEFICIENT*
Geography - *DEFICIENT*
Ancient Civilizations - *DEFICIENT*
Handwriting - *DEFICIENT*
…
"It appears you may have been involved in some sort of non-standard, uncorrelated learning curriculum, Theodore. Your assessment shows many major deficiencies as well as a number of unacceptably advanced scores. According to IDIO guidelines, every student must be made to conform to a standard of "At Level" performance in all subjects for their grade. Any score higher or lower than "At Level" is unacceptable, and demands immediate conformity. After all, children learn best when they master material at the same rate as their peers. It promotes a low-stress, non-competitive learning environment for everyone."
Carson was lying on the floor feeling groggy as the helmet gently retracted back into his collar. He heard what the machine had to say, but he was slow to fully process its meaning. It wanted to re-educate him? Turn him into one of those humorless Robo Kids? Not a chance! He wasn't a kid, he was a damn adult!
"Actually…" He began, doing his best to keep from making an undignified outburst. "My parents don't believe in standardized learning. I'm more of a free-range kid. I focus on the subjects that pertain to my fields of interest. There's no need to scoop my brains out or anything."
"Checking… According to interstellar IDIO mandates, all children are subject to full correlation in all disciplines unless formal protest has been filed by a legal guardian and fully adjudicated. This ensures the greatest benefit to society and the greatest flexibility in sourcing dependable labor for generations to come. There is no record on file of your parents submitting a formal opt-out waver for standardization in any field, including education, socialization, and acculturation. They clearly intended for you to be brought in-line with prevailing norms, Theodore."
"Well, fine. But it's a moot point anyway. I AM an adult, and I have the right of informed consent and self-determination. Check your records, I was born almost 70 years ago."
"... Confirmed. Theodore Carson was born at stellar time code 1690148662957, the current time code is 1909418470769: chronological displacement is 69.53 years."
"There you go, right there. I'm not 12 years old, am I?"
"Chronological age is irrelevant. Logical conclusion - Theodore Carson has spent a cumulative total of 502555 hours in cryogenic suspension... Biological age of 12.2 years is confirmed and incontestable."
"UGH..! Look, I'm not a kid, OK?! This vessel is on a deep space mission, there aren't even any children on board! I was changed somehow by-"
"I'll need to take a moment to construct an appropriate re-education program." The robot cut in, ignoring Carson completely. "In the meantime I think it would be best for you to engage in some much-needed physical activity to help you burn off some of this excessive energy."
The robot closed its eyes again eliciting the familiar beep from Carson's suit. "Pre-Adolescent Calisthenics Program Alpha Activated."
"Wait!" Carson shouted, "You can't just leave me here… I'm trying to explain to you what happened; the ship is in serious dAnger!"
Carson grimaced with embarrassment at the sound of his cracking voice, but of course the nanny-bot paid no mind to that, nor did it heed his warnings.
"Elevated stress levels detect. Please remain calm, Theodore... Invoking palliative media distraction from the correlated youth's entertainment playlist. Popular musical entertainment is a very productive tool for pacifying children and helping them to assimilate socially into their peer groups." The nanny-bot said as she made a quick exit.
The robot had left too quickly for Carson to follow, leaving him alone as the room began to fill with the sound of that nauseatingly over-produced, musical dreg that he could never stand having to listen to.
***********************************
♪♫ When she laughs or cries,
teardrops blaze the skies.
Recognize!
I wanna be - the glitter in her eyes! ♬♩
Carson's blood began to boil. It was bad enough being treated like a kid without having to listen to such sappy, meaningless lyrics. "What the fuck does that even mean? Glitter in her eyes?! Jesus… What makes kids buy into that crap?"
"Time to raise our heart rates. Everyone count along as we perform 30 Jumping Jacks together. Be sure to maintain proper form at all times. The count can only advance when the entire group performs a good, clean rep together as a unit. Ready?... 1…1…1…1…1…1…1…" Said the suit's robotic voice, droning on in time with the music like a deranged metronome.
Carson ignored the suit and tried to log back into the wall terminal, but immediately got an error telling him that his access would be restricted until the pending scholastic activity was complete.
"Computer," He said with conviction, "end exercise program."
"I'm sorry, student access is currently restricted until the pending scholastic activity is complete." A computer voice replied.
"Can you at least turn off the music?!" He seethed.
"'Glitter in Her Eyes' by Nebular Connection is currently playing on repeat. If you would like to alter the audio selection, please ask a grownup for assistance. Would you like to give 'Glitter in Her Eyes' by Nebular Connection a star rating?"
"Zero Stars." Carson grumbled.
"Student number 1: Theodore Carson, the group is waiting on your participation.... 1…1…1…1…1…1…1…" Came the persistent voice from Carson's jumpsuit. The exercise program was clearly written with groups of kids in mind, with holdouts eventually being compelled by the rest of the group to participate, or face being ostracized. Lucky for him he was the only one around and was more than happy to listen to the suit repeatedly say the number "one" all day while he tried to work out a plan of escape. It was preferable to focusing on the syrupy boyband crooning and harmonizing in the background.
♪♫ When I'm on her side,
problems shrink in size;
no surprise!
I wanna be - the glitter in her eyes! ♬♩
"Student Number 1: Theadore Carson, Non-compliance detected. Additional compliance measures enabled."
Carson didn't like the sound of that...
Slowly an uncomfortable itching sensation began to develop between his shoulder blades. There was no way for him to reach the spot with his arms and rubbing against the wall didn't help at all. The suit was rigid enough in that area to totally mute his sense of external touch…
His levels of frustration were growing through the roof trying to think of some way to quell the still increasing itchiness, but he didn't seem to be left with any options. The sensation was slowly driving him mad. He gripped wildly at every seam of the suit and fruitlessly struggled to tear it from his body.
"...1…1…Student Number 1: Theadore Carson, Dermal Irritation Encouragement will cease upon resumed group participation…1…1…1…"
After a brief moment, and completely despite himself, Carson threw his legs apart and raised his arms over his head in time with the robotic voice. He was slightly haunted by the fact that his limbs seemed to decide on giving in before his conscious mind had…
"...1...1...1..." The suit's robotic voice still refused to advance the count while Carson continued to desperately flail his arms and legs in time with the count, tears forming in his eyes.
"Please! I'm doing it! I'm doing what you want!"
"...1...1...Student Number 1: Theadore Carson, remember to count along with the rest of the group and to maintain proper form at all times...1...1..."
"...1" "ONE"
"...2" "TWO"
"...3" "THRee"
"...4" "Four"
"...5..." "five..."
He felt furious and mortified for finally giving in and following the silly kids' program, but nobody else had actually seen his display of weakness, and the immediate relief from the itching felt so pleasurable and oddly long-lasting… At least it was only 30 reps, he rationalized, but that just got him to the next stage of the program. Next he was expected to do push ups, pullups, situps, and crunches. The computer continued its relentless enforcement of compliance and frequently critiqued his form, showing him diagrams of the muscle groups being targeted and the deficiencies that remained to be corrected compared to his supposed "peers" while the incessant music continued to play on in the background.
♪♫ Every-one else tries,
thinking she's a prize.
That's not wise!
I wanna be - the glitter in her eyes! ♬♩
By now he'd heard the same infernal song at least 15 times, and he hated to admit it, but he'd caught himself subtly mouthing the words more than a few times. The song was just irresistibly catchy in a terrible way. Some part of his regressed mind was absolutely loving it, and it seemed like there was nothing he could do to stop it.