A Glitch in the World Read online

  Like the book? Then please take the time to leave a review on Amazon. Writing a review is the number one way you can support your favorite authors.

  Want to see more of Alex Drozd’s work? Visit his website at http://alexdrozdbooks.com and receive a free ebook.

  Thank you for reading.

  1

  Stuart Fergesson sat at the dining room table of his family’s dwelling unit, his left elbow driving into its topside and his chin resting in his open palm. With his free hand, he slowly ate his meal. Breakfast would be over soon, meaning it was almost time for the bus. He dreaded it like he did every morning—almost as much as he dreaded having breakfast with his family.

  “Is the toast all right?” Brenda asked. “I know I burned it a little.” His mother paraded around the kitchen in a bathrobe, her hair tied back in a bun and her sleeves rolled up past her elbows.

  “It’s fine,” Stuart said.

  “Ready for school?”

  “Sure.”

  “Oh, Stu,” Brenda said, “don’t sound so excited.”

  His father walked into the kitchen, a big, fat man, his suspenders just barely visible beneath his suit. They made them that way for men like him, men too fat to wear pants. Stuart sat up straighter in his chair.

  “I don’t have time to sit,” Brian said, moving past his wife. “I forgot I have to get there early.” His father rushed to the kitchen counter, looking for any sort of food that would make for a portable meal.

  “Take a banana,” Brenda suggested.

  “No, I’m savoring those,” Brian said. “If I’m in a hurry, I won’t enjoy it. They’re too expensive to not enjoy.”

  “Not really.”

  “Well, whenever we do get them we end up getting a bunch of other off-world stuff that’s too expensive.” After shoving a piece of toast into his mouth, Brian went to pour himself a glass of water. He eyed the plastic container positioned at the end of the kitchen, raising an eyebrow. “Tomorrow’s refill day, right?”

  “Right,” Brenda said. She turned to pull another piece of toast from the stove-top.

  “Just in time. We’re almost out.”

  While his father searched the fridge for more food, Stuart glanced out the window. Janus’s daytime sky was coming to its fruition. He watched the horizon, the rocky terrain that stretched out for miles until it met the world’s dark blue atmosphere. In his view were the dozens of two-level dwelling units most of Janus’s population lived in—his family included. Were he to look in the other direction, he would have seen the colony’s town center off in the distance, where he’d be headed off for school soon.

  His father, after gulping down his water and grabbing a yogurt cup to-go, bid the family farewell.

  “See you tonight,” Brian said to them.

  “Bye, Honey,” Brenda chimed.

  “Bye, Dad.” Stuart’s eyes followed the fat, middle-aged man out the door, watching him squeeze through its frame. Once he was gone, Stuart slumped in his seat again, happy to have avoided a conversation. Now, all that remained was to avoid his mother.

  Stuart took the last bite of his breakfast and stood up to take his plate to the sink. He tried to find the right balance between washing his plate too well and not washing it well enough—either case might have invited her commentary—but it was all for nothing. His mother didn’t need a social cue to begin speaking to him.

  “Ready for school?” Brenda asked.

  “You already asked me that.” Stuart said, keeping an eye on the tone of his voice. It was a conscious effort he often had to make.

  “Did I?” Brenda asked as she moved up beside him, waiting for her turn at the sink. “Yeah, you’re right. Guess I did. Well, give me more of an answer than ‘sure.’”

  “School’s boring.”

  Brenda shrugged. “Yeah.”

  With only a minute to spare, Stuart made it to the bus on time. Somehow, he was almost always late. The large, black craft glided over to its stop, lowering itself close enough to the ground for him to step on board. Mrs. Wu, the bus driver, greeted him. “Good morning,” Stuart said back. He walked down the aisle, past the rows of his peers’ faces. Half of them glanced up at him as he walked by. He shuddered. If only they’d all been hit by the bus before it got to me, he thought. Then they wouldn’t get to stare at me like that.

  Still trembling from being watched, Stuart seated himself next to his friend, Dwayne. A black skinned and well-built young man, he was the son of a top-tier college professor back on Earth. His family had moved to Janus after his father retired, eager to live the relaxed life without the usual associated costs—something that, on a small world like Janus, was possible for the moderately affluent. Stuart envied their wealth, their luxury that even he recognized at his young age—but Stuart was jealous of a lot of things when it came to Dwayne.

  “Hi, Stu,” Dwayne said. They both wore the same grey school uniform.

  “Hey,” Stuart said, not even looking at him. He stared out the window.

  “I’m still sorry about your aunt.”

  “It’s okay. That was several weeks ago, you know.”

  “I got it for you.”

  Stuart’s eyes left the window and drifted over to Dwayne. He leaned in closer to his friend and lowered his voice. “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “What made you change your mind?”

  “I did some reading.”

  “And?”

  “You’re right; when people do it they usually feel better about stuff afterwards.”

  “Told you.”

  “It’s legal on Earth. A lot of people do it I guess.”

  “Told you.”

  Dwayne shrugged. “Well, I got some for us.”

  “Us?”

  Dwayne chuckled, “HSP sounds kind of fun.”

  Stuart had never done a recreational drug before. Virtually all planets and moons, except for Earth, had this one in particular banned, but he hadn’t thought to look up why. He didn’t care if it was illegal or dangerous to one’s health—he didn’t want to live that long anyways.

  “I’m not going to tell Patrice,” Dwayne said. He had lowered his voice too, not wanting their classmates to overhear.

  “Good,” Stuart said.

  “She’d get mad, but it’s really not as bad as they make it out to be.” Dwayne shrugged again. “That sounds like something a drug addict would say, doesn’t it?”

  “It has to be true about at least a few drugs. I bet it’s true about the one that’s legal on Earth.”

  “I know we’ve got school tomorrow, but do you want to do it tonight?”

  “Tonight? Really?”

  Dwayne chuckled again. “It really does sound fun, Stu.” He shrugged. “Well?”

  The flicker of a smile flashed over Stuart’s face for a brief moment. Maybe today had been worth waking up for after all, he thought.

  “Sure,” he said.

  For the next half hour, the hover bus glided through the neighborhoods of dwelling units, picking up the colony’s school children. Combined with those on the other two buses, there were only a few hundred students on Janus. Dwayne went on talking about Patrice, telling Stuart about the private conversations he had had with her and all the gory details of her body. Stuart almost couldn’t listen to it. He hated when Dwayne did this. It reminded him that he didn’t have a girl to tell Dwayne about. Part of him tried to tell himself that this was because there were so few girls on Janus, a colonist world of only a few thousand, but another part of him knew it was because of his appearance.

  Stuart was a short, lanky, and unattractive young man. He was male, but he didn’t look masculine—unlike Dwayne. His friend’s broad shoulders and defined chin made him look normal, symmetric, not too round in the face—the exact opposite of Stuart, whose jawline could only be defined as the absence of one. He felt overwhelmed with a sense of shame because of it. He wanted to apologize to the world for having to see him, for having to witness such an aberration from the way things were supposed to be, but he knew all he would get in return would be pity. Vacuous reassurances of self-esteem, ones insulting to his intelligence. How stupid did they think he was that he would believe the made-up, nice things they’d say about him? Their compliments only made his self-esteem worse.

  Once the school was in sight, Dwayne looked over at Stuart.

  “Want to come over right after sunset? We can do it in the backyard.”

  “Sure. Can I spend the night at your unit?”

  “Let me ask my parents, but probably. We’ll say we’re going to study for Mr. Okada’s math test.”

  The hover bus pulled up to its usual spot. And, just like that, Stuart’s excitement about going over to Dwayne’s house disappeared. Thoughts of joy left his mind and were replaced by their exact opposite: thoughts of school. Stuart grimaced, like he did every time he felt that jolt of deceleration, that transfer of momentum as the bus slapped onto the ground. It meant the day was about to begin—another day he didn’t want to be awake for.

  “See you tonight!” Dwayne said as he hopped off the bus.

  “Bye,” Stuart groaned. Dwayne’s cheeriness only served to annoy him. The following eight and a half hours would make life not worth living; so why wasn’t everyone else brooding about it like he was? As he sat there in his bus seat, waiting until the very last minute to stand up, Stuart watched his friend run off for class—the friend who had everything he could ever want.

  2

  Stuart sat near the back of his English
class, his first lecture of the day. Feeling restless, he looked over at the clock and frowned. A full day still lay ahead of him, and they were about to commence the first activity of said day: watching a news report special-made on Janus for the colony’s students every morning.

  The VidScreen came to life, and the head of every child snapped to attention, eyes intent on the display. An animated logo danced across the screen, the symbol of their little colony, the one the program was sure they were all so proud of.

  Not all of them.

  “Hey.” It was the sound of a girl’s voice. Stuart looked over to his left to see his classmate, Alissa. She had long brown hair that ran down to her shoulders, covering part of her grey school uniform—like an act of rebellion. “Hey,” she repeated, a smile sneaking into her expression, “do you have a glow-pen I can use?”

  “Yeah,” Stuart said. He went to grab one of his extra pens, all while cursing himself in his mind. Say something else to her, he thought. Just one sentence, some comment to show even the slightest hint of a personality. A joke, anecdote, or even just a, “Here you go.” But Stuart couldn’t bring himself to say anything—not a single word. He knew he could make more friends if he tried, maybe even become friends with a girl he could tell Dwayne about, but he didn’t want this to be the time he faced rejection or got his feelings hurt. And since he felt this way every time, things never changed.

  Stuart handed her the pen, his face expressionless.

  Alissa smiled at him, looking as if she was waiting for some response, any at all, but Stuart gave none. “Thanks,” she said, looking away. And there, he had done it. Another chance gone.

  The VidScreen program proceeded to run through an assortment of advertisements and local news stories, though it could be difficult to tell the difference between the two. They were intertwined, mechanisms designed to inform the viewers about everything going on in the colony—and sometimes that information just happened to be about a really good deal.

  “If it’s almost time for you to get your Rank Zero, consider selecting aerospace! We need innovative minds like yours to push Janus forward. Remember, a planet’s success is measured by its off-world accomplishments as much as its accomplishments on the surface—and don’t let anyone tell you it’s only the latter that matters! For example, aerospace personnel are working as we speak to deploy full-scale communications satellites into Janus’s orbit.

  Certification training begins two weeks after you complete basic. We hope you choose to specialize in aerospace for your Rank Zero!”

  Following those closing remarks, the next clip began.

  “Hello, I’m Dr. Jon Hogan, and I work for the Janus Exobiology Division. I would like to announce the findings of our latest research project. The team and I have been working on this for the past few years, and we’re excited to finally share the results of our trials with you.

  “Janus’s soil has tested positive for the presence of carbon based compounds. Most importantly, we’ve detected strong levels of methane in both the atmosphere and the ground. As you know, methane, while not conclusive evidence, is one of the many fingerprints of life, and, with confidence, I can say that we are closer than ever to discovering an exobiology present on our own little world.

  “So, please consider specializing in exobiology for your Rank Zero! We need the bright, innovative minds of the next generation to push us forward in this brand new and exciting field. Certification classes begin exactly three weeks after completion of basic. We hope to see you there, and if you’ve already received your Rank Zero, then you’ve missed out!”

  The morning program came to an end and the VidScreen receded back into the wall. The teacher began handing out papers: their graded book reports. As Stuart watched her, a deep fear came over him. Receiving grades was always a low-point of his day. He wasn’t smart, but he was smart enough to be ashamed of that. The book report he had written had been chopped, inarticulate, most likely filled with grammatical errors—ones that he wasn’t even smart enough to recognize.

  Hoping that he had made at least a three—their grade system ran from one to five—Stuart reached for his paper as the teacher walked by. His eyes retracted to the back of his head. They didn’t want to see. He had to force them to focus, to make out the field of view that lay before him. Everything had grown blurry. The world swam, its image coming in waves, but he concentrated on bringing it back into sight. He saw the paper in his hands, its edge bent upward, a dent where his thumb pressed down into it. Stuart could see the grade marked at the top.

  Four-point-nine.

  Shame filled him, an utter sense of regret. He glanced at his mistake: a single typo. If he had just spelled that one word correctly—if he had just not been imperfect at that one moment—this paper would display a different mark. But he hadn’t been capable of getting even the easiest thing right...

  There would be no getting a Rank Two, he worried, what one needed to really work on Janus. Hell, there might be no getting a Rank One, or even a Rank Zero. It was even possible he wouldn’t finish basic. An atychiphobic feeling of dread erupted within him, one that demanded attention from every part of his being.

  “Hey.” It was Alissa again. Stuart looked up at her. “What did you make?” she asked.

  “I made some stupid mistakes,” he replied. “I’d rather not say.”

  “Don’t be embarrassed. I’m sure it’s better than my two-point-eight.”

  “That’s passing.”

  “I know, but—“

  Unfortunately, the lesson began, and their conversation was cut short. Stuart hated his teacher for interrupting them. This girl, for some unknown reason, was initiating conversation with him despite his self-destructive attempts to run away. Finally, someone willing to chase him, give him that validation he wanted so desperately—he needed to be adored before he could be liked—and Mrs. Shitface over here had to ruin it for him? Couldn’t she tell he was a pathetic boy who needed this? That he needed to talk to a girl? Couldn’t she tell by his ugly appearance that an opportunity like this didn’t come by that often?

  Stuart spent the rest of the school day in the same mood. His last class was mathematics, and his teacher, Mr. Okada, reminded all of them that there would be a test the next day. Stuart grimaced. He would need to study for it, but he had plans with Dwayne that night. As he headed home, he found himself wishing that his friend rode the bus back with him as well. Dwayne always had some after school program to go to. So, Stuart sat by himself, staring out the window at the passing plains of Janus. Dirt covered the ground for as far as the eye could see—dirt that the VidScreen program earlier said was full of methane. Something about that being a biological fingerprint. Stuart wondered, if there was life on Janus...did it regret being alive too?

  Within the hour, he was home. His mother was there, watching the VidScreen in the living room, one of her rituals before she made dinner. “Hey, Stu,” she said as he walked inside, shutting the door behind himself. It slid closed with the soft hiss of the hydraulic system inside.

  “Hi,” Stuart said. He went to drop his things off in his room.

  “How was school?” she asked him.

  “Okay. We talked about certification training.”

  “Oh,” Brenda said, looking back at the VidScreen. “What’re you thinking?”

  “I don’t know,” Stuart said. “Hey, can I spend the night at Dwayne’s? We want to study for a test tomorrow.”

  “What test?” Brenda said, her gaze snapping back at him. “You want to spend the night at a friend’s on a school night?”

  “It’s for Mr. Okada’s test.”

  “Is he your math teacher?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh,” Brenda said. She looked back at the VidScreen again. A couple of seconds later she said, “Math? Well, you should probably study for that. Okay.”

  Stuart didn’t say anything back; he just nodded his head.

  “Say thank you, Stu,” she said.

  “Thank you.”

  “I hated math,” his mother went on. “It could ruin my day, at times.”

  “Do I have to get my Ranks? You didn’t.”

  “I just don’t think that’s an option for you, Stu. You were born here.”

  Stuart’s face turned sour. “Isn’t there anything else where you don’t have to get certified?”