“Tardiness noted. To submit a valid exemption, please contact the administration during open office hours. Hours are between...”

  I walked past the speaker, ignoring the usual spiel about how my parents would be informed about my lateness. They would probably want to talk to me about it if they were actually home when I got back, which was unlikely.

  Looking at the clock in the corner of my vision, projected from my optics implants, I saw that my second class was due to begin in about 10 minutes—basic cyberware repair and optimization. One of the courses I was required to take to enroll in any basic cyber-doctor program, and one of the few courses I actually enjoyed. Something just felt right about repairing things with my own hands.

  I slipped into the class right before the bell rang, making sure that I had my augmented-reality in front of me. Today was a special class with a live demonstration of a basic cyber-hand replacement, a simple model that lacks many of the newer, more complicated aspects of installation present on the upper-level corporate models. Once the professor, dressed in a white lab coat and a surgical mask, cleared his throat and started to speak, I quickly slipped on the visor, seeing that what had been an empty table in the front of the room had now been replaced with a surgical bed, containing a mannequin-esk humanoid with a high-definition arm.

  “First, we must confirm the patient is truly unconscious.” The professor explained, making sure we remembered the process. “Cyberware replacement causes a vast strain on the nerves of the affected regions as the body adjusts to the new body part. If the patient is conscious, it can lead to a feedback loop as they instinctively attempt to move the body part, causing more strain. Too much strain, as you all know, can lead to dysautonomia, death, or even sometimes cyberware insanity.”

  He made an incision in the arm and carefully removed the mannequin's hand. The simulation caused it to disintegrate into specks of light as it was removed.

  “Once you have successfully removed the original part, make sure that the nerves are still intact, and in case of damage or client preference, make sure you have synth-nerves on hand. Be careful about the usage of synth-nerves, as they can still cause a degree of feedback, especially if they are overused. The human body is a marvel in the way that it can detect the presence of things that don’t belong.”

  He pressed an invisible button in front of him, and a metallic skeleton of a hand appeared, covered in wires intertwined throughout its length. It was lacking the usual synthetic skin that covered it after installation, exposing the attachment points located at the wrist.

  “For this installation, we will be installing a Lesyme Model 2 Basic Cyberhand, most commonly used among basic corporate employees who have lost a hand and are covered under the on-the-job injury clause.

  “This model is the best in its field, as most Lesyme models are. Along with high performance, they ar easy to install and singnificantly higher quality then their competitors.” His voice slightly more monotone, as if he was reciting a script. It seemed like this professor had been payed off by Lesyme. After all, the best way to get potential customers for cyberware was for your cyber-doctor to recommend it.

  “As with most hand models, you will find a neural attachment point located at the wrist, along with…”

  ___________________________________________________________________________

  After two hours of lecturing, with some not-so-subtle advertising weaved in, we were released from the lecture hall, with a thirty minute lunch period before the next class of the day. As with most corporate schools, the expectation was that you would be a full, working member of a company by the time you graduated at 20 years old. If you were going specifically into the research divisions, you could take some optional, post-graduate classes specifically for the subject you were interested, or more commonly, were identified to have a talent with.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  Considering that I hadn’t scored high enough on any of the aptitude tests that were handed out at the beginning of the year, I only had five more years to go through before I would be considered a fully graduated cyber-doctor, fully certified to work in one of the many clinics that Lesyme has sponsered in the corporate sector.

  Education was designed to be fast and efficient ever since the global war of 2098, when corporations used the fear of the other global superpowers to take over the education system in an effort to produce as much manpower as possible. What used to be undergraduate and graduate programs were condensed, breaks shortened from months to weeks in an effort to win the arms race.

  After the global peace treaty of 2106, the corporations saw their power wane. With the populace starting to push back in, wanting a return to pre-wartime life, public education was returned to its slower-paced tradition style. However, some corporate schools kept their old methods, like Nirvaes Academy.

  Wartime training methods was definitely accurate, I thought to myself, walking towards the lunch room. I feel like half the kids in here are suffering from some sort of trauma of mental illness. Hell, I feel like im starting to go crazy, and I haven’t even been here for a full year.

  I entered the cafeteria, feeling the many voices inside hit me like a wall of sound. I quickly walked forwards, grabbing a tray and heading towards one of the stalls. Most of the food here was pretty good quality, and they didn’t charge too much either, most of the money instead coming out of the large yearly tuition.

  Grabbing a bowl of some sort of noodle dish, I scanned the room, spotting an empty table near on of the corners of the room. Right after I had put down my tray, I heard a pair of footsteps behind me.

  “Hey! Arid!”

  I turned around, seeing a short figure with bright, bubblegum pink hair holding a tray of various gelatinous coloured cubes.

  “Hey, Emily. It’s a bit early for you to be out of class.”

  While she wasn’t the most serious student, she wouldn’t skip classes. The only people here who could afford to were either rich enough to be able to afford the best tutors, or simply bribe the test proctor.

  “We had a test today, and the professor let out people who finished early.” she set her tray down on the table, collapsing in a seat. “If they gave these sorts of tests to convicts, we wouldn’t need prisons”

  I grabbed a pair of chopsticks. “That tough?”

  “I think I saw two or three people burst into tears halfway through.”

  “That doesn’t seem like that many, I think i’ve had a few where five different people had to be escorted outside by a TA”

  “Its a class of ten.”

  “Ah.”

  The conversation lulled as we started to eat.

  Emily scooped up a large portion of a purple cube. “So… How was the instillation demonstration?”

  I swallowed. “It was awful! The prof went over the most basic installation possible, I could have done one like that blindfolded!”

  “Yeah, yeah miss prodigy, why don’t you move up a year already?”

  “Well, they won’t let me go up unless I can get better grades in physics…”

  “...You’re serious? I thought that was a just joke the others kept making!”

  “I didn’t believe it either when they sent me a message about it around a week ago. I knew I was doing better then most people in my cy-doc class, but I didn’t think it was to this extent.”

  “Well miss genius, do you still have time to help my lowly self? I still have that biology homework you said you would help me with…”