You Are Asexual, page 1
part #1 of Celebrate Your Identity Series
You wake up filled with excitement! Today is the day everyone's been waiting for! It's Orientation Day, the day everyone is given their sexual orientation.
"What do you think it will be like?" Your roommate, Rebecca, is already out of bed. She adjusts her Facility issued jumpsuit. "Do you think it will be like a new color you can see or a new scent you can smell? Do you think people will start glowing? Wouldn't that be wild?"
"I don't really know," you groggily reply. Your excitement starts to wane when you realize how early it is. "Haven't really thought about it much."
"You haven't thought about it? It's all I have been thinking about for years!" That was true. When you came to the Facility 6 years ago, you were assigned Rebecca as a roommate. The first thing she did was show you her calendar, marking the days left until Orientation Day.
Turn to page 20.
You don't feel gay. Don't feel bi, either. Maybe straight, you guess. That was the most likely, after all. You think back to Rebecca's hug. There was nothing there. No tingle of excitement, but no recoil of discomfort, either. Just indifference. This wasn't supposed to happen. Something had gone wrong. You need to tell someone, but who?
The hallway has started to fill with groups of twos and threes, giggling and holding hands -- and sometimes more than that -- as they rush to find a more private setting. You're not sure where to go, but you can't stay here.
You feel you should tell Proctor Mitchell. Maybe this happens from time to time and you just need to get another flash from the Orienter and everything will be set right. But if anyone would know what's going on and what to do about it, it would be Tariq. He could probably list two dozen cases like yours off the top of his head.
If you want to talk to Proctor Mitchell, turn to page 89.
If you think Tariq is the better option, turn to page 44.
Your heart pounds as hard as your feet as you turn away from the mysterious figure in the lobby and sprint in the opposite direction. You hear some annoyed shouting as you flee. You turn a corner and are thankful that you don't have any laser arrows sticking out of you. You briefly consider heading to the faculty lounge to find someone to tell, but realize that if you try to describe what you saw ("Yeah, there was a flickering cyber archer with laser arrows in the lobby!"), they're going to think you're pulling a prank.
You decide it would be best to pretend that didn't happen and carry on. You're annoyed at having to take a detour, but this route will take you by the library, and maybe Tariq is there.
Turn to page 116.
You decide that rewiring the lock is probably the safest move. You tinkered around with circuits in your introduction to electrical engineering course. It's just a matter of tracing the input and the outputs and sending a signal to disengage the relays. Easy stuff. You pop open the access panel to have a look.
Or rather, it would have been easy stuff if it had been 5v DC like the circuits you worked with in class. You weren't expecting the 480v AC you find behind the panel. Your heart skips a beat as you touch the wires.
Actually, your heart skips all the beats after that much electricity courses through your body. You're still smoking minutes later when the electrical repair crew that's investigating the power outage finds your corpse.
The End
Your training indicated that people sometimes like it when their partners show some initiative, so you withdraw your hand and pull the rest of her clothes off her legs. She's now fully naked in front of you, and you take a moment to soak it all in and piece it all together, like it's your first time visiting a city you've only seen a map of. Moments later, you realize that it would be polite to remove your bottoms, too.
Her eyes look up, then down. They are hungry. They lock in place, and you can almost feel their fire on your body. You have no idea what she's thinking, but you are absolutely certain that you are not thinking the same thing.
She lunges and you spend the next fifteen minutes in an erotic writhing tangle. You struggle to recall the basics from your training, but she seems to appreciate your efforts. And she, well... She does some things to your body that weren't covered in that "Self-Love And You" instructional video and related homework.
Turn to page 52.
The ring fits perfectly. Anti-climactically, though, nothing happens. Hidden ring in a secret, magical cave? You expected it to turn you invisible or let you run really fast or something. But nope.
You jump a few times and jog around the cave a bit, just to make sure. Nothing.
But still, it's a really cool ring. You can wait to show everyone!
The End
The security agent's voice bursts into the room, mid-sentence. "-brought in a student, working for the Order. We think she has a partner, a Tariq Abdur-Rashid. He was one of the last arrivals for this class. Seems like he might've been a plant, doing surveillance this whole time. He nabbed some students from the Orientation and escaped. We're tracking them and I have a team in place to take care of the situation. And, uh... contain... the damage."
"Something wrong?" The second voice sounds like Proctor Mitchell.
You need to get out of this room. There was an open door in the back, just on the other side of the cabinet. You might be able to make it, if you stay low and move fast.
If you try to escape now, turn to page 124.
If you wait a bit longer, turn to page 90.
Sally pushes you down and dives at your upper body, hands and lips in a fury. You mentally take notes of things to try when it's your turn. Joe reaches down, sliding a hand into the lower region of the jumpsuit. He looks up with a smile. "Well, you seem to be having fun!" You decide that now is not the right time to tell him that arousal can be a physiological reaction to stimuli and not necessarily an indicator of emotional state. He provides more stimuli for you to react to.
You turn them over. You straddle one of Sally's legs and press against it. You try some of the tricks she just taught you on Joe's body and his reaction indicates that you learned successfully. You simultaneously reach into both of their underwear and try to find your way. It's warmer than you expected.
Turn to page 71.
"This is a Memortron. The folks over at The Quiver got their hands on it for us. With it, we can send some of your brainwaves back in time. It's not exactly time travel, but... close enough." She motions for you to put it on. "It doesn't send your memories back right away, but more of a feeling, a hint of thought. If we anchor that hint of a memory to a specific event, your brainwaves will align and you'll remember everything. But if you miss that anchor, you'll stay in the past, living the whole day over, with only the faintest sense of deja vu. Do you understand?"
"I guess...?" you lie. She tilts her head just enough that you know she knows you're lying. "No, not really."
Turn to page 126.
"I was, uh, playing a little Orientation Day hide and seek game. Whoever finds me wins a prize." Your lie is terrible and it's clear that she sees straight through it. You're not going to talk your way out of this. You're not far from the back door. You can try to make a break for it, but you might be better off trying to cause a distraction first.
If you try to cause a distraction, turn to page 122.
If you try to make a break for it, turn to page 78.
"No!", you shout, hoping to attract attention. "You're not taking me anywhere!"
You run back to the chamber and find Proctor Mitchell and tell him what's happening.
Tomorrow's headline reads: "Attempted Abduction on Orientation Day: Hero Student Saves Ten Classmates" You frame a copy of the article and hang it in your apartment after you graduate. Years later, you still look at it and wonder why Tariq betrayed you.
The End
You try to keep your head down and turned away, but it's no use. The distinctive blue Facility 4 jumpsuits you're wearing aren't as easy to hide as your faces. He spots you immediately. "Oh, hey! Happy Orientation Day, you two!"
"Uh, yeah, thanks," you respond.
"What brings you off campus? I would've thought you all would've been celebrating back at the school."
"Oh, we were," Carla chimes in, "but it was such a nice day that we decided to skip out and go to the Pier. You're not gonna tell on us, are you?"
"Your secret is safe with me, don't worry. I was known to slip off campus to the Pier now and then back in my time. Even on Orientation Day." As Proctor Daniels answers, you realize it's strange that he's not on campus. While the Proctors and staff obviously don't participate in the Orientation Day festivities themselves, they typically hold office hours that day, in case students have questions. Especially biology teachers like Daniels.
Turn to page 109.
A week later, you are one of the first martyrs in the asexual revolution, as you naively lead a march straight into firing range at the Consortium Headquarters. Years later, a statue of you kicking over the Orienter is erected in the park where the Facility used to stand.
The End
"You're coming with me, for your own good." You grab her hand and drag her out of the dorm.
The Social has already started when you arrive. Rebecca scans the room. "Are we in the right place? This is easily the most pathetic party I've ever gone to, and I went to that party Tariq threw that was just me, you, and a warm bottle of flat soda."
"That was a sociology experiment."
"Yes, but it was a better party than this."
You look around t
"Hey, I'm gonna... Mingle." Rebecca excuses herself and starts prowling the so-called "dance" floor.
"Tariq!" you call out, "where have you been? I've been wanting to talk to you all day! Off boinking the chess club or something?"
"No, that's not really my deal."
Turn to page 107.
One night, as you vainly try to use yet another weak-motored, ill-fitting, sleazy piece-of-shit, it hits you. All that junk has lit your passion after all! You didn't realize it earlier because you'd assumed your passion was sexual, but it turns out that your passion was in product design and marketing all along!
You sell your first prototype toy within a month and use the proceeds to buy a high quality video camera and a light stand. You get in touch with some of your former classmates from the Facility and shoot an award-winning independent pornographic film. The profit from that lets you open a small design firm and production studio, and you soon expand into a chain of retail shops. You emphasize quality and respect at all levels and fight stigma and shame with openness, and your customers respond.
Turn to page 138.
She pushes through a door into the staff-only area of the Facility that you've never seen. You are taken to a tiny, dark room, and thrown in an uncomfortable metal chair. She straps you into the chair restraints without removing the bola cables. The door closes behind her as she exits, leaving you in utter darkness. You realize that it is absolutely silent. The room must be soundproofed.
In that darkened soundless space, time does not exist. Have you been there for a minute or three days? Have you fallen asleep?
click
An explosion of light pierces your retinas and your ears tremble in pain as a spotlight bursts to life and a booming voice fills the room.
"You claim you are asexual? There is no such thing!" It sounds like Proctor Mitchell, but filled with rage and fury.
"I don't know what you're talking about," you protest weakly. You are suddenly aware of feeling almost completely drained. You must have been in that chair for hours.
Turn to page 17.
"DO NOT LIE. You ran. Only the guilty run. You have accessed forbidden knowledge. Asexuality does not exist."
"It does!" The light is getting very hot on your face.
"It does not exist! Stop your nonsense!"
"I am asexual." You can barely get the words out, but the words give you strength.
"Maybe you haven't met the right person yet."
"I am asexual." It feels right to say. For the first time ever, you are absolutely sure of yourself.
"You are not! You just need to try it, you'll like it."
You summon every last ounce of strength to shout "I AM ASEXUAL!" at the faceless interrogator.
"Do you mas-"
The thundering voice fades out as you lose consciousness.
The End
"With your hair like that? Today of all days?" You halfheartedly try to calm the bedhead. "You're such a dork! Never change." Rebecca opens the door and bounds into the hallway, heading for the assembly chamber.
If you want to go with Rebecca, turn to page 42.
If you'd rather try to find Tariq instead, turn to page 83.
"And one of the pages looked weird and I clicked on it, because, you know, maybe it would be a trick question on the test? And then the screen went blank and it told me to sit here so I sat here and I'm not in trouble, am I?"
"Whose biology class are you in?"
"Um. Daniels. Proctor Daniels."
"I see." She leans over to the terminal and presses her thumb against a pad. The screen returns to the main menu, the sirens stop, and the lighting in the library returns to normal. "Okay. Number 1: I don't want to find out you've been looking at anything like that again, okay?" You nod in agreement. "Number 2: Flowers don't reproduce asexually. Pollen, remember?" You fake an oh-yeah-that's-right smile through your terror. "Now, get out of here. It's Orientation Day! You shouldn't be studying. Go have some fun!"
"Oh yes, absolutely. I'm sorry!" You rush to the exit, amazed that you escaped.
Turn to page 84.
She'd already been here two years by then. Everyone in the Facility is the same age, but you all arrived at different times. From birth, everyone is tracked by The Consortium, who determines when to send you to your year's Facility. You arrived when you were twelve, but Rebecca was among the earliest arrivals for your year. She was only nine and a half when the Consortium sent her to live here. Other people, like your friend Tariq, stayed out until they were almost 15.
Tariq was the resident expert on Orientation Day. While most people simply waited for it, Tariq dove into the science and history behind it all. He probably knew more about it than most of the Proctors.
Turn to page 97.
"What the hell was that?" The voice is coming from the far side of Karen's now-vacant seat. "Has everyone in this room lost their minds?" You recognize her from the four or five classes you've shared over the years. You think her name is Carla. Or Carmen? Charlotte...? You're too embarrassed to ask.
"I think they have."
"Should we get out of here while we still can?"
You look at the conflagration of hands and tongues in the seat next to you and quickly agree. "I think we should."
You follow Carla, pushing through the amorous throng. Once outside of the chamber, she takes a deep breath and eyes the door suspiciously. "That was weird." She continues moving across the lobby and towards the hall, as if the chamber is radioactive and she's trying to get to a safe distance.
"Did you feel anything?"
"No, nothing."
"Me neither."
Turn to page 113.
"C'mon, let's get out of here!" You grab Carla's sleeve and pull her to her feet. You look for another exit, but there isn't one! You're trapped! The exit on the other platform is your only hope.
You jump off the platform and start running across the tracks. You make it to the second set of rails when you hear a buzzing SNAP! and a short scream from behind you. You stop and turn to see Carla falling to the ground, electrocuted by the third rail. You move to try to help her, but your rescue is interrupted by an Uptown Express Number 8 train which quite rudely sends you flying through the air.
Your final thought is Well, that was a really bad idea.
The End
Physically, everything went according to plan. Emotionally, though, it felt like you were playing a part in a play with a script you've never read. That was supposed to be a life-changing, earth-shattering thing, but... That was it? If that didn't work, what will?
He falls, panting, onto the pillow next to you. "Wow. Was it good for you?"
If you lie and tell him "Yes", turn to page 111.
If you tell him the truth and say "No", turn to page 120.
Your training indicated that people sometimes like it when their partners show some initiative, so you withdraw your hand and pull the rest of his clothes off his legs. He's now fully naked in front of you, and you take a moment to soak it all in and piece it all together, like it's your first time visiting a city you've only seen a map of. Moments later, you realize that it would be polite to remove your bottoms, too.
