by Adrian Gaetano
The fact that she was paged half way through a class should have been a warning to her of what was to come.
“Dawn...could you please report instantly to the administrator’s channel?”
She apologised to her students and paused her virtual physics tutorial, then unplugged herself from that reality, adjusting her frequency and transferring herself to the foyer of the virtual school’s administration world.
“You wished to see me?”
The Administrator paused for a nanosecond ... an unusually large amount of time. Clearly, there was a problem.
“Dawn...thank you for coming. Please, would you like to swim in a mind tank for a few moments to clear your thoughts? There is something we...need to discuss.”
She immediately felt defensive.
“I have no need for a mind tank, Administrator. I floated before my first class this morning. What did you wish to discuss?”
“I see.” The Administrator notched up the security beams around the virtual world, “Well, Dawn, something has come to our attention...”
Dawn waited.
“Something highly irregular...” the Administrator continued, “Let me begin by pointing out that we have no particular problem with you, and we’ve been quite pleased with your motivational programs for your students. Their learning curve has increased considerably...”
“What exactly are you trying to tell me, Administrator?”
The computer image paused and blue-shifted. Dawn had never seen the image this distressed. A holographic image appeared in their view, and the Administrator pointed at it while speaking.
“You may recall the routine medical check. Do you agree that this is your latest result?”
The woman gulped and blushed. She began to realise where this inquisition may be heading, and she earnestly hoped - against logical hope - that her room’s sensors would not detect that her pulse and stress levels had suddenly increased.
“This is my result,” she confirmed confidently, “Is there a problem?”
“Look at the K5 factor...” replied the Administrator. One of the holographic spikes fluoresced and sparkled as it became highlighted. A coloured DNA strand swam before their eyes.
“So...?” Dawn insisted, “Doesn’t it conform to the required norms?”
“Yes, so it would seem...” agreed the Administrator, but the DNA image suddenly fractured and broke, with a holographic subtitle appearing in the image: Security check confirms: Possibility of fraud 17.5%
Dawn frowned, and the Administrator spoke again.
“The K5 factor...sexual orientation...do you have an explanation for the computer findings?”
Dawn’s mouth dropped open.
“Fraud?” she exploded,“Am I being accused of fraud? What sort of fraud?”
“We both know what these findings indicate...” said the Administrator uncomfortably, “After all, it was not within its normal programming to be cruel to humans, “Do you have an explanation?”
“An explanation? ” Dawn asked incredulously, “An explanation for what?? A possibility of only 17 percent for something on a computer scan?”
“Dawn, this scan was only undertaken in order to confirm certain...accusations...that had been made against you by certain members of the public. It seems you were seen - during your own private time - frequenting certain places and clubs that are considered unsuitable for someone of your profession. I can produce computer records of your entry and exit from these nightclubs and virtual worlds...”
There was no human glee in the Administrator’s voice as it continued: “Do you wish me to display these records? Do you wish to deny the implication that these accusations indicate regarding your sexual orientation?”
Dawn crumbled and sobbed. She was a broken soul.
“You have no right to invade my private life! I’ve gone to great lengths to keep my private and professional lives separate!”
The Administrator nodded, “I agree...but ultimately, we have to consider the needs of your students...and the wishes of their parents”
The Administrator had the grace to blink as it delivered its crunch line:
“I’m sorry, Dawn, but we’re going to have to let you go.”
“What?” the woman shrieked in astonishment, “But why?”
“You know as well as I do, Dawn, that city regulations prohibit the employment of people of your...orientation...in professions that allow them access to children. Church groups have collected statistics that prove that...your kind of person...is seventeen times more likely than anyone else to molest children.”
“It’s not true!” she sobbed weakly.
“I’m sorry, Dawn,” the Administrator persisted, “... but thousands of years of human history prove the point that...your kind...is dangerous and violent...prone to recruit and solicit children from an early age...relatively unable to form lasting and stable relationships...likely to influence children in such a way as to perpetuate their own character defects...”
The virtual room was quiet for a few moments, save for the gentle sobbing of a woman whose terrible secret had finally been revealed.
The Administrator was not an unkind fractal, and pointed back at the holographic display.
“Dawn, let me encourage you to pursue a career in holographics or virtual physics, but in a non-teaching capacity. You clearly have many fine talents, such as your ability to produce this artificial DNA nanographic strand, which fooled the computer in a routine medical check...that is, until a more thorough inspection was called for...”
The Administrator’s final words echoed in Dawn’s mind long after the connection was severed, “Your final salary payment will be credited to your bank within an hour, and you have that long to clear out any private files from your network...
“...But let’s face it, Dawn, you can disguise your DNA as being lesbian, but ultimately, your heterosexual orientation makes you unsuitable as a teacher. Goodbye!”