[ CW ] `` ... flip to page 43 of a dictionary and take the first word and run with it . ''

``'We?' There is no'we'. There's you, and there's me, but there is no'we,' no'us,' and no'them' either. It's every man for himself out there.'' 
 
 `` But I thought that we -- that each of us -- felt like they're singling us out. I thought that when you slipped that key into my hand that it meant, you know, that we had an alliance.'' 
 
 *That's just it, * Marko thought: *singling, as in breaking us apart, as in sealing each one of us into his own rotting bubble of cynicism, hate, and selfish ambition*. But of course, he could never say this out loud, never voice the sour, throat-tightening truth of the system. Instead, he could only respond, 
 
 `` The key to the records closet? That was a favor, nothing more. A repayment of a debt, if you will.'' 
 
 `` To who?'' 
 
 `` To my son.'' Inwardly, he added, *the only one who found the courage to resist. The only one who had the guts to try to escape. The only one who had enough fire to spit in the face of the firing squad. * `` I'm not going to let the same thing happen to Jake.'' 
 
 Stunned, Alexander sat down and sunk into his chair, as if he was being flattened by a weight he could no longer even struggle to keep from crushing him. He began to picture his younger brother, a lover of the arts and of science, who was equally comfortable under the stars or standing over the table working on his designs. Alex remembered his elementary school years, when his parents were never satisfied with his mediocrity, his lack of motivation. Now the genius and passion of Jake made them uncomfortable. 
 
 At the end of this year, his senior year, Jake would have to choose a profession to pursue for the rest of his life. His many friends had already broken up into cliques based on their talents and corresponding future careers, leaving Jake to become more and more aware of his uniqueness. While his friends were plotting out their respective ascents up the various ladders they had chosen to scale -- Residential Architecture, Tea Botany, Cornea Surgery -- Jake pored through the lists of specialties, highlighting difficulty ratings and salaries, and, of course, the Marking percentage. He found nothing that called to him -- or rather, one should say, he found nothing that called to him more than anything else. He wanted to learn everything, to do everything, to burst his bubble and explore the world beyond it. Jake knew that he had no need to worry about being Marked, about failing in his career and being forced to greet an early grave. What concerned Jake was the terrifying idea that he would end up trapped like a cow who could not go back downstairs, resigned to his room above and barred from the library below -- though the doors would be closed to him anyway, his path cast in plaster. 
 
 Alexander had chosen a career in Government Administration, and he had become a paperwork drudge. His only solace was that this was one of the few jobs where he would be allowed to remain in communication with his family in the City. Had he not been there to listen, to absorb the frenetic, anxious energy emanating from Jake, the duty to provide emotional support would have fallen to his frail parents, who would have slowly fallen apart like old houses under the stress. 
 
 
 Alex had thought that he was to go into Records and discreetly `` upgrade'' his and Marko's position - as an unambitious paperwork peon he would never be suspected. But even he had been clouded by the ambition that the Government attempted to drill into every student starting from the first grade after they had learned the basics -- he had never entertained the idea that he could help his brother. He could have erased his brother's record entirely, made him a non-person, set his brother free to live as he chose ( though of course Jake would always have to keep an eye out ). Certainly Alex never thought that he could take down the entire system. He had n't been able comprehend the true power of the plastic card he was thumbing in his pocket. 
 
 Record Keepers were given complete control of the entire records system through their Keys, and this was a perfect incentive for an otherwise undesirable occupation. The Administration had no need to worry, because anyone who achieved this rank would be too focused on advancing their career to contemplate such treason. The exception, of course, was Marko, who, despite being heavily influenced by his son, was allowed by his superiors to keep his position, in a rare moment of adherence to the meritocratic principles of the bureaucracy. He had stayed complacent but hardworking, and even he himself acknowledged that his resentment of the system developed slowly and not without resistance from his deformed conscience. 
 
 
 With the light of a journey beginning dancing in his eyes, Alex said, `` Thank you for being a human in a sea of drones.'' 
 
 Marko drily replied, `` Thank you for being a drone in a sea of monsters.''
