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Rumors spread across the island fast, but it’s only been a few hours, so
there are still a lot of questions. Resi is dead tired, because he hasn’t
slept for real since two nights ago. The Kidjum is an induced sleep state,
which keeps the mind active, and doesn’t result in any rejuvenation. Indeed,
it’s one of the most tiring experiences in an islander’s life. Catching up
on rest is one of the first things a graduate usually does once they choose
their House, right after a nice, big meal. Because of his unique position,
he never had that luxury. He has to speak with the next batch of
sixteen-year-olds, who spent their whole lives thinking that they were going
to decide their own fates on this day. If the world doesn’t go Proxima Doma
and explode in the next decade or so, having five Houses will become the new
normal, but for now, he can only imagine what they’re feeling. As shitty as
he thinks his own situation is, there’s an argument to be made that they’re
worse off. Some of these kids are only a few hours younger than him. What
gives him the right to choose for them?
It’s a relatively small class this time, with only twenty-four kids. Two of
them are going to be sent off to House Ilah, specifically to live with
Resi’s birth family. Whoever these girls are, they’re not going to like it.
He’s determined to ask everyone where they would like to go, but those two
could become terrible exceptions. Or maybe not. Only eight of them are
girls, so the chances that any two will want to volunteer aren’t the best,
but maybe he’ll get lucky. He’s looking at the roster now. Only one of them
is originally from Ilah, but that is no big surprise. Each House
celebrates a different fertility season, so birthdays are not evenly
distributed throughout the year. Most are from House Maing’aing, which is
where Resi’s older sister is now. He needs to broach the subject delicately.
If this girl—oh, no, she’s looking at him. Shit, they’re all looking
at him. How long has he been standing here, not saying anything? “Welcome to
your Kidjum.”
“It’s not a Kidjum anymore, is it?” one of the boys asks. Fair point.
“It’s true, you won’t be going to the cots tonight to commune with your
subconscious minds,” Resi admits. “But that word really only means
sleep. Our ancestors on Earth didn’t practice House reassignments.
They didn’t even have Houses. So Kidjum has already changed
meanings. I see no reason why it can’t change again.” Whew. He really pulled
that one out of his ass. In reality, he didn’t have time to think
about whether they should start using new terminology. He isn’t a linguist
at any rate, and wouldn’t know how to go about finding a good replacement.
Why did they choose him, and why did they make him start immediately? That’s
right, he doesn’t believe that this had anything to do with his
subconscious. He thinks it was all orchestrated. In fact, he’s doubting now
that anyone here makes their own House decision. Was it all a lie?
“I don’t care what you call it. Just tell us what’s gonna happen.” It’s the
one girl from Ilah. Her arms are noticeably uncrossed. Most of the others
are guarding themselves, even the guys. They’re wearing unnecessarily thin
cotton...sheets. There’s no special name for it, but that’s literally
what it is. You’re handed a sheet, and it’s up to you to tear the holes for
your head and arms. Some forget to be mindful of the arms, and it makes for
some rather awkward interactions. She remembered how many tears to make, but
she made them too large, so she’s showing more skin than she should be, and
doesn’t seem bothered. Fortunately, she dried off rather well, so it’s okay
that she’s not trying to cover herself up so much.
Should he pull her aside and ask if she wants to stay? Probably not, because
he still needs one more girl anyway. Could he talk to all the girls
separately? No. Transparency. If this has been one giant conspiracy, then he
needs to actively combat that by being as honest as possible, and giving
them all the information that he has about it. Geeze, it’s hot in here. Has
it always been hot? What is this, the fire ceremony, am I right? He clears
his throat, only to find that it’s only made it worse. He should have
grabbed some water beforehand. “Believe it or not, you all probably know
about as much as I do,” he struggles to say. He clears his throat again.
Nope. Even worse. Cool.
His sister walks up from behind him, and slips her water bottle into his
hand.
He takes hold of it. “Thanks, little one.” He made the right choice,
bringing her along. He drinks then looks back at the crowd. “As I was
saying, I was not given a handbook for this job. The Assembly hasn’t even
reached out. I’m gonna do my best, but I’ll need your help. I don’t know
what you expect here, but I’ve been told that everything is my decision now.
You don’t get any say. Your subconsciousness doesn’t even have a voice.
Well, if that’s true—if I’m really as powerful as they want me to be—then I
can choose not to choose. It’s estimated that 83% of dreamers end up in the
House that they thought they wanted before they went into their Kidjum. Most
of you know what you want, so let’s lean into that. Tell me. What do you
want?” Two girls. Please let there be two girls who want to go to Ilah.
That’s all he needs. Make it easy on him. Hell, he’ll take two guys, and
maybe negotiate with Father. It’s the 26th century, it’s not like there’s a
real difference between boy work and girl work. That’s all just nonsense
tradition.
The room is quiet. No one is answering. Okay, that’s on him. He didn’t make
it a very orderly vote. “Um...” he begins as he’s looking around. “Okay,
yes.” He goes over to the two tables that were used for handing out the
sheets, and separates them from each other. He grabs the leftover sheets
themselves, and walks them over to a separate corner to throw them on the
floor. Then he starts to point. “Enaiyo, Maing’aing, Naino, and if you stay
where you are, you’re choosing House Ilah. There. It’s like a caucus. Have
you heard of those? Doesn’t matter. Just, uhh...go.” He waves his arm to
release them. When they still don’t move, he balks. “You all want
Ilah?” Holy shit, this is gonna work out. “Or do you not understand the
assignment? I get it, this isn’t what you trained for, but they didn’t give
me any of the elixir. We literally can’t do a real Kidjum. I’m sorry, but—”
“You forgot one House,” another girl says. “You forgot Kutelin.”
He’s so thrown off by that. “Well, I...it’s just...” Huh? “I didn’t think
anyone would want to join that. We don’t have anything. I have an
apartment that I’ll be sharing with my sister. But we don’t have any farms
or infrastructure. That might sound like it means no work, but the work
families do isn’t random or arbitrary. It provides for them. I’ll be eating
from the Market Collective. I don’t know that they’ll afford you the same
courtesy. We don’t know where this is going. Like I said, they’re being real
cryptic about it.”
“We’ve already talked about this, the Ilah girl says. “We didn’t have a
fifth choice before. We wanna start something new.” They aren’t in a Fold
together, but since birthdays are a matter of public record, they all know
each other. Many groups who share the day, until their Kidjum, operate in a
very Fold-like way. If this is what they want, he can’t deny them. They
answered his question. So all right, the first members of House Kutelin. But
wait, what about Father’s demand? No, screw that, Father can sow with his
toes. Resi has a Fold of his own now. He has a family. He has protection.
