Pearls cure

"Please stand for the singing of our national anthem." Head Gal Lacerta calls to us above the din of the assembly hall. "Nice of you to join us Pearl," Mr. Gurs my planetary arts teacher hisses in my ear. I just nod, I’ve not exactly one of those grade A+ students, or when I’m here at least. We sorta have a feeling of mutual hate. We have all see them, the bodies the dead "technological pioneers." So it isn't a shock when Head Gal Lacerta starts the slid show. Before our eyes the bloody, bloated and beaten body’s of the 40 men and women flash before us. As they flip past a slight tremor of recognition flits in the back of my mind. Once upon a time, when I actually made contact with human life other than my aunt I had friends who swore that the 10th man has my black hole hair and my small peaked nose. Of course they also swore that Peter pan was an important figure in earthen history which we all know is not true because he was just another politician, prime minister thing, but I think they could be onto something with the tenth man. I do look like him. Or maybe because I’ve never met my father I’m trying to make him some fallen hero or something. “They died trying to save humanity.” The head Gal drones on breaking into my train of thoughts. Her raspy voice a obnoxious awakening from my dreams of a famous father. Of course no one ever mentions that they never knew that they could die. They where never told that they where the lab rats of the government. I add silently trying to imagine Head Gal admitting the government screwed up, which knowing that little government lover would never happen. Head Gal didn’t get to be head because she loved education or moody teens, no she’s here so she can slam government propaganda down our throats every opportunity she gets. Posters line the dim hallways all bearing one message, “the government is right!” Since I'm already in this black hole of boredom they call school I might as well stay, well if I could I would go home but we aren’t allowed to go home for lunch. They lock the doors, with bars. That’s how many kids cut school. That’s how boring it is. Pathetic I know. I sit by my self in the first observation room which is used for studying star trails. It’s cramped, drab and thought by the public school body to be infested by Hacker rats. Tiny four legged machines that have gone haywire, and have microphones and cameras installed into them that show what we are doing to the teachers who all report to the government. But it’s not infected with rats, my one and only friend Arion stumbled in here one day to discover it was only a rumor that some exclusive clue started along time ago. When he told me I tried to find what the club was called or who the members where but there was nothing in the year books so I just gave up and now its our own personal hideout, no one comes here but us, and he’s not even here often. Arion is the son of the government. No I don’t mean that he’s an orphan but being a orphan he could at least pretended his parents cared about him, sadly his mother and father are the government. His Mother is a respected scientist who has some important job “working for the better of the galaxy.” And his father is a member of the star board which is like the government on earth only 100 times stricter. His dad and his goons set the curfew, enforced the tax law and banned usage of transmitters. Let me just say now, Arion is a great guy but his father isn’t a very popular man. Most people are in the fifth observe room, it’s newer and you can sit on actual grass imported from earth and look up at the stars. Not like their not every were though. In our little version of observe. 5 Everything is covered in green shag carpet as if to imitate grass. The walls, the floor, it’s all new carpet but since no one but me comes here they never found out that it got re-finished. Even the old glass dome was replaced. It’s just as nice as any of the other observatories but no one will ever know but me. I positively glow with that realization. I rake my hands threw the soft shag and pull my lunch from my bag, Glorp log courtesy of my aunt who can’t cook real food so she buys fake. There’s just something so wrong about putting a blue blobby substance in your mouth. I nearly choke on the science experiment gone wrong when a voice with a thick earth accent whispers in my ear. "Arrrrre you alone herre?" I jump and almost hit the polished glass dome. I just nod, so much for my alone time. Then I realize he must be here to kill me. I mean I’m not pretty so why in the galaxy would the hormone driven specie (called by the general public, male) even think about talking to me? His question repeats over in my head. Are you alone? If I’m gunna be killed no one but the janitorial staff will find my body. And that won’t be for awhile because the janitors are robots and are constantly in need of repair. Lunar high has all the money from the government but yet when there's a spill the only people to clean it up is well... you. But I guess its better the robo idiots are gone so much because everyone knows they listen in on our conversations and spy on the students. There's no privacy here. I laugh as I realize that Luna high is like a prison... or one of those old fashioned things from those earth movies... what was it? A mind wiping station! They feed us the drivel of politics in every class. Its always government this! Government that! Compared to the outer regions of space earth looks great!