Everyone now has a constant stream of information flowing into their heads. News, films, music, books. It's never-ending.
Ana has finally had enough.
She wants out.
She wants to stop the Stream.


2. Two

The Literature Channel plays all the next morning.

Len drew closer to Ann. “My darling,” he proclaimed, lowering himself down on one knee. Ann gasped. “Please say you shall marry me?” Ann gasped and kissed him. “Of course, my sweet Len! Of course I shall marry you!”

This is literature?

I slouch my way from class to class, holding my books close to my chest, wishing I could silence the Stream.

Ever since 2068, everyone has had the Stream implanted. The Stream is a small receiving chip in the brain, designed to constantly play whatever the Station is transmitting in your head. Silent to everyone else, constant noise for you.

The Stream is compulsory now. It’s implanted at birth, so right from infancy you have a little voice chattering in your ear non-stop.

It’s torturous.

The only way to stop it is to harm your head in some way. Of course, it will only quench it for a second.

But it’s a second of bliss, either way.

I step onto the steel floor of the school bus, instantly stumbling on an outstretched foot. I manage to put myself upright and look at the foot closer. It’s encased in a size ten Bambino Nuclear trainer.

Of course.

Dan laughs like crazy as I walk up the aisle, my cheeks flaming. His mates cheer and slap his upheld hands in victory.

“Hey Ana!” he yells after me. “You need to wipe your bloody toothache on that bin liner you call a jumper?”

More howls of triumph.

I tear off the bandage angrily, balling it up in my fist. I sit gingerly on the back seat, avoiding the splodges of gum, fingering my jumper miserably. It’s a baggy knitted grey concoction, handed down from my cousin Lil.

Dan’s right.

It’s hideous.

The bus lurches along, belching smoke. It stops every two minutes, a steady trickle of students going out.

And now for the daily quiz! Ring 90 23 456 for the chance to win a brand new pair of Bambino Nuclear trainers!


Just answer this question: First Order Reykjavik used to be situated in place called.......?

Easy. California.

And for your money back on your phone call, answer this question too! First Order Reykjavik used to be a city called just Reykjavik. Which country was the city in?

Even easier. Iceland, now called Lower Apollo.

I didn’t want to enter though.

I didn’t want the same trainers as Dan.

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