Early Wednesday morning Roger walked out on the pool deck and assembled with the rest of the team.
Coach Jerter came out of the office area and greeted them.
“‘Morning, all. You look half-dead, team. Didn’t you get any sleep? We need to get you all into shape so I want each of you to get at least an hour of hard practice in every day through our season. We have a really good chance to repeat the state championship this year, even though we’ve lost our top freestyler to graduation last spring. I need everyone to pick up the slack; let’s all try to improve our times—your first goal is five seconds off your season-end times by next week. Okay, suit up now and let’s get wet! Roger, hold on, I need to talk for a sec.”
“Okay, coach. Sorry I missed those early practices—that crazy Program stuff...”
“Yeah, and it’s still happening. Mr Cirota told me yesterday that he wants you pulled off the team. If you compete, he says he’ll have the school forfeit the match.”
“Can he do that? I don’t see how he can.”
“Neither did I, so I checked with the CHSAA, you know, California’s school athletic association regulates our high school sports competitions and they set all of the eligibility and swim meet rules. I found out that their rules don’t allow for forfeits unless an association rule is broken. So they wouldn’t comply with Cirota’s forfeit order. I told Mr Davis that we would have a zero chance of even making Regionals if you didn’t compete and intimated that you could swim for one of the community teams that we compete against—you know, like Valley Area Athletics. You could join them, you know, and compete in our league against us.”
“Yeah, but I wouldn’t do that...”
“But if the school barred you from our team?”
“Well, yeah, I suppose. I’ve got that swimming scholarship so I need to keep my edge.”
“Anyway, Davis said he wouldn’t act directly against you, like revoking your eligibility. He’ll be telling Cirota that there’s no school rule that permits him to do that. But I just wanted to tell you what’s been happening. Now suit up quick and let’s go,” he finished.
After practice, Roger arrived in home room ten minutes into the period with a note explaining that he’d be late each day during the swimming season.
Roger took Ayame’s hand and squeezed it. “‘Morning, sweetie.”
She raised his hand to her lips and kissed it.
He turned to Cynthia. “Any announcements? Everything okay?” he whispered.
“It’s cool,” she responded. “The kids are still doing the human shield drill and not getting hassled about it, either.”
“Sweet. Let’s hope it stays like that.”
It did stay like that; the class change for the second period was relatively sedate. Roger noticed that the knots of kids surrounding the Program students was a little looser; even so, no one was bothering them with Requests. Roger and Cynthia joined one group of screeners as they walked along and asked one of them if they had any difficulties.
“Not really,” she answered. “Cirota was outside this morning trying to get us to disperse, but the kids he was yelling at were calling back to him that they wanted to make a Reasonable Request and he was interfering! Too funny! He was soooo red-faced. Maybe he’ll get a heart attack.”
“Was Davis there too?”
“No, haven’t seen him, except he stands outside the main office and watches sometimes. I pass by there a few times a day for class changes. Oh, here’s my class, see ya!”
They were approaching their own classroom and as they peeled away from the escorts, several other kids saw them leave and joined the group.
Cynthia grinned. “Rog, look at how that’s working now. Just like a rehearsed dance routine, right?”
Roger gave her a thumbs up. “Great teamwork.”
Ayame was looking at the passing groups. “Look, did you notice? Only half of them seem like Marine kids—they wearing that logo—so other kids are helping—isn’t that nice?”
This was their anatomy class, so the twins sat, holding their breath for any Program challenge from their teacher, but he ignored them and started the lesson with no reference to their participation. Both siblings exhaled in relief.
However, at the class change after the period ended, they got an unwelcome surprise. When the bell rang and they left the classroom, they saw standing in the hallway five men wearing rent-a-cop outfits. Then when a group of kids passed them escorting a Program kid, two of the men waded into the nearest group, trying to reach the naked student. One of them grabbed her and she screamed.
Suddenly there were blasts of whistles that sounded from every direction. Hearing the whistles, the uniformed men froze for a second and found themselves tackled by some very angry students. Cynthia and Roger had reacted too; Cynthia grappled with the man who had grabbed the girl and Roger took down the other one. Both twins put the men into judo choke holds.
“Okay, now, explain,” Cynthia growled at her captive as she bore down on him. “Tell us why you assaulted that student. Speak!”
“Uh, let go, you’re choking me! We were told to make sure that the naked kids were pulled away from those gangs they were walking with so that they could be easily seen. Let go!”
“And who told you to do this?”
“The agency. I was sent here by my security guard agency.”
Suddenly there was a commotion at the other end of the hallway and a group of Marines appeared.
A Marine MP strode up to Cynthia and then she noticed that a few Marines were handcuffing the other uniformed men to their loud objections.
“What’s up, ma’am?” he asked.
“He grabbed that girl—the naked one over there,” Cynthia said, nodding at the trembling girl who was being comforted by several girls.
“Okay, hombre, up,” the MP said to the guy Cynthia was holding. “You’re under arrest for assault.”
“What? I was told to get those kids away from the groups they were with!”
“And you grabbed a kid to do that. That’s assault and battery. They weren’t breaking any laws or school rules, from what I heard. We’re arresting the whole bunch of you. Let’s go.”
He snapped cuffs around the guy’s wrists and led him away as Cirota came running into the hall.
“Stop! You can’t do that!” he called.
One of the MPs, a sergeant, as the twins noticed, walked up to Cirota.
“What is it we can’t do, sir?”
“Take the guards away. They’re on official business and providing security for the school.”
“Exactly what kind of security does assault and battery on a student provide, sir?”
“They didn’t assault anyone. They were enforcing a Program rule.”
“Without admitting that they have any right to enforce a rule, exactly what rule were those students suspected of violating?”
“They have to make themselves available to be seen and touched by other students.”
Meanwhile, a group of students were watching, attracted by the conversation.
At Cirota’s last comment, one girl called out, “I had no problem seeing or touching anyone!”
Another called out, “I didn’t either. I was walking right next to Susan and could see and touch her with no problems. Then one of those guys busted between us, grabbed her, and scared the hell out of her!”
The sergeant looked at Cirota. “Sir, did you arrange for these men to be here?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Did you give them instructions that included using physical restraint of any kind?”
“My instructions to the agency were that the guards were to remove any Program participants who were being shielded by students from those groups and make them available for display and touching.”
“Okay, sir, you are under arrest for incitement to assault. Put your hands behind your back.”
“What? No, I won’t! I’m a federal official and I have the authority in the school over all Program matters.”
“You have no authority to break the criminal laws of this state. Cooperate or I’ll add resisting arrest to the charges.”
The cuffs were snapped on Cirota’s wrists and he was led off. The MPs began taking statements from a number of student witnesses, and Roger and Cynthia were also asked to provide an account of what they had seen.
The halls were buzzing with excited conversations; the bell for the period start had rung some time earlier but no one seemed particularly interested in class just then.
The PA system came to life.
“Students, those in the hallways in wings A and B, please return to your classes now. You must go to class. Thank you.”
Ayame pulled on Roger’s arm. “Going to class. Your American schools are so exciting, like a manga story! Hentai, nudity too!” she giggled and ran off.
Cynthia hugged Roger. “Wow, that was intense. Thanks for the teamwork, bro. This is an angle we didn’t figure, him using rent-a-cops to try to break up the resistance.”
“Yeah, but the Marines stormed the beaches and routed the foe,” Roger grinned.
“I don’t know about that—those kids did a real good job nailing most of those goons, don’t you think?” she retorted.
“That’s true. Hell, everyone’s so wired about this! There might be a real revolt here next week if anyone in the school tries forcing someone in the next group.”
After their economics class, the hallways were packed with wary kids and the mood was fairly ugly and unnaturally quiet. The earlier easy joking and lighthearted banter were missing as the students slunk along to their next classes, peering carefully around corners and into dark classrooms.
Roger went to the pool to do some practice laps while Cynthia met Ayame at the study hall room. A few of the other Marine kids stopped at their table to talk about the morning’s excitement. They had been in the adjacent wing when what by then had been termed “The Great Attack” had begun. Roger and Cynthia knew Don; he was a junior and lived in their housing area.
“Yeah, one of those rent-a-cop guys just flew into my group. He was shoving and pushing people and even punched a girl in the shoulder—she screamed and fell, and then he tripped over her. Hell, about six of us jumped him and did a number on him. When the MPs got to him he could barely stand. His nose was bleeding and he was holding his side,” Don told them.
The girl with him said, “I was coming over to meet Don when one of those guys grabbed me and pushed me aside, just shoved me into the lockers. He was trying to get into a group of kids around a Program girl. Nobody messes with this kid. My dad always told me to protect myself, and when I saw that the goon was trying to get to the Program girl, I nailed him on his head with my backpack and when he went down I kicked him in his fat gut. Then some other guys grabbed him and were going to mess him up but then the MPs got there. Too bad.”
Cynthia shook her head. “Wow. We were gentler in our hallway, I guess. Good job. Maybe this will wise them up. And you know they arrested Cirota?”
“No! Really?” they both exclaimed. “Sweet!”
“Yeah, but they probably won’t be able to keep him very long—we’ll see.”
“Oh, and there was an incident with a couple of students right after home room,” the girl went on. “Two guys insisted that they wanted to finger one of the Program girls but the kids around her wouldn’t let them get close and punches were thrown. A few guys pulled those two into an empty classroom and worked them over, I heard. The word is out now that if you touch a Program kid you’ll get hurt real bad.”
“I’m not sure vigilante justice is such a great idea,” Cynthia commented.
“Whatever,” Don said, “who is there to complain to? And if the girl was just walking down the hall, like Cirota and Davis wanted her to be doing, those guys could have hurt her—and gotten away with it, too! Like the school thinks this Program idea will work on the honor system. There’s some pretty rough kids in this school and they don’t give a damn about anyone but themselves. You know the bunch, they collect under the bleachers and smoke and do drugs.”
Ayame was listening wide-eyed. “Oh my,” she breathed, “in Japan we have those thugs in school too, like junior yakuza they carry on...”
The girl asked, “Yakuza? What’s that?”
“Kind of like crime gangs but very organized, almost like military groups. Kiken’na... err, dangerous. Some kids in schools try to copy them and can terrorize other students if the school isn’t strict.” Ayame said.
“We have gangs in schools here too but mostly in big cities. LA has a problem with school gangs,” Don said. “They’re usually involved with drugs. Well, I need to get ready for next period so I’ll see ya,” he said with a wave, and the two left.
Ayame said, “Oh, I met nice girl in Civics; her family moved here from Japan last year. Her dad is aeronautical engineer and working at company in San Clemente. She told me about music festival there on Sunday and there are two Japanese groups performing.”
“Oh yes, I heard about it. If you want to go, I’d like to also and I’m sure that Roger will go too. We can take your friend; I’d like to meet her.”
“Oh, that’s nice. I’ll text her later and see.” The bell rang. “Okay, History next. I guess Roger will meet us there.”
This time the class change was a little less tense as the students’ anger and anxiety had diminished, but a certain wariness was still present among the more sensitive among them. And after the fifth hour the mood had almost become normal again. High school kids are fairly resilient. The trio got on the lunch line when they saw the Program kids at a table with their food trays.
“Look, they’ve gotten their lunches; that’s good. Maybe they’re more comfortable now; after the Great Attack I thought it might have ruined any confidence they had built,” Cynthia observed.
After getting their food, they went to the Program kids’ table and were greeted with a wry comment.
“Welcome to the combat veterans’ group. You heard about the Great Attack?” Sandra asked.
“Yeah,” Cynthia responded, “hi, Sandra. We took on a couple of them in our hall too, but didn’t maul them like we heard happened in B wing.”
“Yeah. I was so scared. This guy was trying to grab me! I twisted away from him and then was grabbed from the other side by another one, but he got whacked on the head by a backpack and went down and some guys grappled the first goon and pulled him away. I felt so dirty; that second guy got his hands on my shoulders, ugh. And we have two more days of this nightmare.”
Melanie broke in, “Well, I’m seriously thinking of being sick for the next two days. They’ll fail me for the Program but I turn 18 in two weeks and my folks found out that I can’t be forced to be naked—I’ll be an adult then and the Supreme Court ruling won’t apply to me.”
“What? Wow!” The exclamations rang out around the table. It turned out that Dennis and Tony would be turning 18 during the term, in addition to the twins.
“Our birthday is on March 3,” Roger said. “We didn’t think about the adult angle. Maybe we should spread the word. I’ll bet a lot of seniors will be 18 this term if they aren’t 18 already. Too bad you guys got picked now, but I think that after doing three days, you shouldn’t give up—you’re so close to getting finished and probably the worst is over.”
Cynthia continued, “Anything happen with class demos? That was the only part of the Program that was difficult to come up with a resistance plan for.”
Tony spoke. “In Health. I had to demonstrate getting an erection and cumming. I was so embarrassed that I stayed soft, even though there was a bunch of kids blocking me from view. The teacher was angry that no one could see me and that I didn’t do it either. I told her that’s something that can’t be forced. It was like those dreams you have—naked and completely exposed—but this is for real. I’m gonna have that nightmare for real forever now.”
Sandra broke in, “Yeah, my sleep is terrible and I’m getting so jumpy. I barked at my folks last night and then was hysterical, I couldn’t stop crying. My mom’s a psychologist and she spoke to me for a while, calming me down. She said I’m getting symptoms of anxiety and must be developing PTSD over this experience, like a rape victim does. It is like rape, in a way. She’s contacting the school today but I haven’t heard from her yet. This is worse than any nightmare; at least you wake up from those.”
Roger looked at Cynthia. “Man, this sounds so bad. If I was in their shoes I just don’t know what I’d do. It’s not that I’m particularly modest—I just think that making someone do this is perverted, it’s morally wrong to compel a person to expose himself like that. I suppose I could just walk around naked, but forcing the other stuff on me makes me feel sick.”
“Me too, Rog, but I couldn’t even stand being naked. Remember the onsen in Japan? How even as a kid I wouldn’t undress with the other women? Even now in the locker room showers I don’t feel comfortable, I kind of hide in a corner, but thoughts of being naked in public makes me panic,” Cynthia said. “Maybe this says that there’s something wrong with me—what’s it called, a phobia? But if I have it, so do lots of people.”
The rest of the day turned out to be mostly normal; the halls were calm during class changes and the classes went smoothly, even Psychology, which the twins actually enjoyed; Mason had introduced the topic by discussing the relationship between thought, sensation, and behavior.
She began with an introduction, “Remember, last time we discussed how a person’s behavior is based on his sensations and perceptions first; when the person forms the desire to take an action, those feelings become the basis for his motivation for continuing to do that action. His feelings and emotions all contribute to his motivation, and if the action is unsuccessful in some way, his coping strategies and how he deals with stress come into play....”
Mason continued leading the class in a discussion about the body’s interaction with the world through sensation and perception and the discussion became so intense that the time quickly flew. As the class ended, a student raised the issue of fearful perceptions, fear of an experience where no physical danger existed.
Miss Mason responded, “Actually there’s a name for that. That kind of fear is called a ‘phobia,’ and phobias are actually somewhat common in the general population. Say, you know, there are several phobias that are somewhat related to the ideas underlying the basic premise of the Program. Okay, that’s a good idea—we’ll look at those tomorrow or Friday, those phobias are in a group called ‘social phobias.’ That can tie into the understanding of sensation and perception.”
That evening when Sgt Denison returned home he had some interesting information for the teens.
“Your school is keeping our police busy,” he chuckled. “The MP resource officer at your school called in the troops when he saw a bunch of rent-a-cops appear there this morning and I think a dozen MPs turned out, maybe more. Anyway, they hauled them off to the civil authorities and swore out complaints for assault and battery for all ten of them. You kids may need to be deposed for their arraignment or trials, but this should make the private security firms think twice about sending their people into schools with no background info.
“But the best part is that Program official of yours. He’s in the brig on base and they’re holding him for investigation of various charges including my favorite, suspicion of inciting a riot, because of the disorder that was caused by those guards he hired. Apparently he did that without checking with the principal or school district and they’re livid at him for doing that. The Marine JA office isn’t letting him talk to his Program office and they’re requiring that if he wants a lawyer, it will have to be a private one and not a government one. They told me that having a government attorney represent a government employee who appeared to be acting beyond the scope of his authority was a kind of conflict. I’m glad I’m not a lawyer, that stuff just gives me a headache.”
The teens were delighted with the news and asked Denison if they could share it with their friends.
“Sure, but skip the details about how you heard about this. I don’t want to get the rep of being a gossip, okay? It’s pretty much scuttlebutt on the base by now, anyway.”
Cynthia and Ayame remembered to ask Roger about the Sunday concert and he was interested in going too, so Ayame called her new friend and arrangements were made. The twins called some of their friends and soon a group of fourteen kids had arranged to go.
After doing their homework and some chores, they all hit the sack (as a military family, that’s how they referred to “going to bed,” after all).
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