Meera Sharma was the proverbial fish out of water at the Academy.

She found her studies easy, on the verge of being boring, nothing that she hadn’t already read herself in her former, private, studies.

Even the physical and tactical aspects of Academy training were demanding but repetitive. So very repetitive, muscle memory was all once the original techniques were learnt, everything else was a little dull to her sharp mind.

So, Meera sought out and remembered the obvious patterns, perfected the predictable outcomes.

Meera shone, singled out by her instructors as a future leader, groomed for promotion, given extra responsibilities, extra training.

The social aspects of the Academy failed to interest her. She shunned the little groups that formed, ignored invitations to gatherings and parties.

The only people she knew were the two from her old school, and neither were of any interest to her here.

So, Meera spent long hours alone, studying, researching, learning about the organisation, the Society machine that she now served.

Across most of the 'civilised' world, Society ruled the populace with a gentle, but iron grip.

This Empire (for that was what Society was) spanned continents, eradicated all national and cultural differences, enveloped, consumed, and adjusted entire populations.

Every Citizen was a Citizen of Society, equal and equalised. Languages were a thing of the past; Society Standard was spoken throughout the world.

Meera remarked in a lesson one morning that 'Rome has been rebuilt!'

Neither her fellow students, nor her lecturer, knew what a 'Rome' was.

The Audit Programme noted several searches for '#Rome?' and provided the standard 'Access Denied - No Records Exist For this Query'.

Meera was noticed. Watched.

She'd not meant to stand out, excel, it was just her nature, her upbringing.

She came from a family, a culture, that, despite restrictions imposed on schooling by Society, saw the value of teaching the history, the real history, of their ancestors, and the world, to their own.

Secret talks, clandestine classes. The elders of the extended family giving an insight into how the world had turned for thousands of years before Society was even dreamt of!

Meera's roots were in a country that some believed was the most invaded in history.

For 4000 years, from Aryans to the British, a seemingly never-ending cycle of Empires being built, and Empires inevitably falling.

Though these names had now been lost or erased, Meera's interest in history grew; the more she learned of the present, the more she saw patterns repeating from the past.

She'd been set an essay:

'Imagine a scenario that could, hypothetically, threaten Society'.

Most of her classmates were stumped, a few had the imaginations to think of natural disasters, earthquakes, famine, and floods.

But the vast machinery of Society had Emergency Disaster Protocols in place, worldwide, each Area could support a population twice that of what it held. All forced evacuations due to any disaster would be swift and efficient.

Citizens would be protected, Society would prevail.

Meera's essay, however, caused a lot more thought to be given to her feedback. Her words were read but not understood, her incomprehensible thoughts confused and confounded her lecturers.

Those who oversaw the Academy were alerted. They had found an anomaly.

Society's hierarchy was both thrilled, and a little concerned, when they read Meera's essay.

'The New Barbarians are Already at our Gates'

So it was that Meera’s time at the Academy was ended. The following day she found herself on the Tube.

From the amount of time the pod had been travelling, Meera knew she was far, far from home.

She'd left Area 4 some hours ago. Being told she'd been selected for a special role, her time at the Agency was over, she would receive full instructions and induction upon arrival.

She recalled the map of Areas controlled by Society, red circles showing the vast megacities spreading across the globe.

She mentally calculated the top speed of the Tube and the time travelled so far, ticking off and discounting Areas and Cities that were even now hundreds or thousands of klicks behind her.

By the time the Tube arrived at the rather understated terminal, Meera had simply run out of guesses.

Heavily armed guards patrolled the terminal, strange logos on their stranger uniforms, 'P/P ' in red, emblazoned on shoulders and body armour.

A woman in a smart, black, uniform strode towards her, smiling and holding out a gloved hand,

'Ms Sharma, I trust you had a bearable journey, tedious I know!

'I'm Major Abbot, welcome to Area Seven, welcome to Processing and Procurement. We’ve heard so much about you, and there’s a lot we need to discuss, please, follow me!'

Meera was puzzled. There was no Area Seven!

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