Redemption Prep - Samuel Miller Page 0,11

of classes. I’ve organized and cataloged my clothing. I’ve charted my walking route on days of class. I’ve made a list of foods available in the lunchroom.

I should say, I met another person, earlier. A girl. Her name was Cara. She was also a Year One, and she lived two floors down from me. She was sitting on the grass outside as I measured the distance to my first class. “What are you doing?” she asked. Seeing no benefit to the conversation, I S5—Rationalized that I should lie and tell her “nothing.” She asked where I came from, and despite the fact that I had little interest, I asked as well. Cara is from Illinois. She was recruited to Redemption because she led an effort in Chicago to beautify the city through botany. I find pursuits of beauty to be as unnecessary as conversations filled with cursory personal information, but I chose not to tell her that. The S8—Consequence of the statement would not be worth the S6—Honesty. Instead, I continued measuring my walking distance between classes.

I should introduce you to this thought pattern. S1–S8 are shorthand code for the eight steps of socialization, the key components of a program developed by my parents to assist me in conducting short-term conversations, for the purpose of building long-term, meaningful relationships. S1—Input, S2—Subtext, S3—Intention, S4—Emotion, S5—Rationale, S6—Honesty, S7—Response, S8—Consequence.

I am not, nor have I ever been, a strong communicator. When I was in elementary school, other students found my behavior so abrasive they assigned me a special teacher, Mrs. Duckworth. When I continued to punch and hit my classmates, Mom was forced to create a more intentional solution to the problem of my inability to interact with other human beings.

After intensive training and application, I have fully adopted the eight steps of socialization as a permanent pattern of thought. While many find this exhausting, I find it liberating. Every conversation follows this pattern, meaning the eight steps of socialization provide the backend code to all human communication; every miscommunication can be traced to a break in the code.

The whole world is really a pattern, if you stand far enough away from it. It all makes sense, if you take the time to understand it.

Here is an example. When Dr. Richardson says to me on the new student tour, “Evan, we really think you’re going to excel here,” S2—Subtext forces me to acknowledge that she is paid by the school to ensure that I have a good experience, so her S3—Intention is less sincere interest in my good ability, and more interest in doing her job, which involves making me feel comfortable and desired. This is an understandable behavior; everyone must first look out for their own self-interest. However, S5—Rationale tells me that there is no S4—Emotional investment to be made. Instead, I’ll simply respond, “Thank you.” I have developed no feelings of emotion or affection toward Dr. Richardson.

I would be remiss to not mention that I have identified in myself a feeling of excitement that is approaching the level of irrationality. Finally, I can sense that I belong to a structure that deserves my intellect. The possibility for growth is apparent; the only question that remains to be answered is, how much will I grow? What will I accomplish? For what will I strive the hardest? To what will I devote myself?

Evan.

EVAN PUSHED HIS way through the Human Lounge and into the academic building.

The number of routes that could be taken inward toward the GRC approached infinity. The five schools at Redemption were interconnected by a grid system of perfectly laid circuits, forming an outward-branching cell around the nucleus: the GRC. Tonight, the Human Lounge to the Human School to the P-School to the GRC was the most discreet.

Redemption Prep opened in 1975, built on the bones of the Griou Research Center. The GRC was the creation of five science professors from Princeton University who shared a vision for their work: total seclusion, full immersion, rooted in the worship of Jesus Christ. With nearly unlimited resources from Princeton, each of them built their dream facility, in pursuit of their respective fields of study: Dr. Carl Yangborne, chemical science; Dr. Gerard Roux, brain science; Dr. Luc Simon, physical science; Dr. Lisle Bouchard, robotic science; and Dr. Cynthia Richardson, psychology and human science.

But their research required help, and no qualified scientists wanted to live on a mountain in Utah, a hundred miles from civilization. So instead of hiring professionals, they recruited young, hungry