Murray McDonald - Kidnap

“So am I!” came another six responses from around them.

“What! We’re all in the same class?” Tom said.

“Looks like it,” responded Ahmad.

Tom thought back to the meeting with Mr Sakamoto. He had been interested in who they had made friends with and had obviously made a few last minute changes.

“That’s fantastic!” said Mingmei.

“Excellent!” added Chen.

“Wicked!” said Tristan. “Are there any real hotties in our class?”

The group just laughed at him.

As they made their way to their block of seats, they noticed a teacher sitting amongst their group. She was young and Tristan thought looked very fit. As they approached, they counted thirteen students waiting for them. Class 1H had twenty one students, twelve boys and nine girls. Tristan was disappointed with the ratio. Thabo, whom they had met on the first evening was in their class, as was the US Joint Chiefs’ son, Zach. Tom and Lela recognised a few of the others but there were quite a few students they did not know.

“Hi guys, come and sit down. I’m Miss Sullivan and I’m your Class Principal. I will be your first point of contact for any problems you may have in your first year here.”

The eight took their seats.

“If you look at your armrest on the right, you’ll see a control panel. Please touch the ‘Notepad’ button,” instructed Miss Sullivan.

As they pressed the button, small notepads emerged from the armrest and swung in front of each of the students. It had the same screen Tom had seen on their first day.

“Now if you can all just write your name in the box and then touch the enter button with your right forefinger,” she instructed and watched as they all completed the task. “Excellent, that’s it, from now on all you need to do is touch any screen in the school and you will be logged straight into your account.”

A number of different cools, wickeds and excellents could be heard around the class.

Miss Sullivan continued.

“Every single desk has a similar notepad, one touch and you access everything you have ever stored. The school is paperless, if you prefer to use a pen to take notes than using a keyboard just use the electronic pens and write on the screen and it will be automatically be added to your notes for whatever lesson you’re in. The system is intuitive and will correct you if you make mistakes.”

“So education has finally broken into the twenty first century,” whispered Tom to Lela.

“If you touch the timetable tab at the top of your screen, your timetable will come up.”

The students eagerly clicked the symbol, desperate to see their timetables. Weeks of speculation as to what was in store for them was about to end.

Tom eagerly clicked the button and his timetable appeared in front of him.

Monday

Tuesday

Wednesday

Thursday

Friday

Saturday

8.00 — 9.00

English

Maths

Geography

Chemistry

Maths

9.00–10.00

Maths

Physics

French

English

Biology

10.15 — 11-15

French

Latin

Art/Music

Physics

Spanish

Sports

10.00 — 2.00

11.15–12.15

Chemistry

Spanish

Religious Studies

Biology

Computing

Lunch

Lunch

Lunch

Lunch

Lunch

Lunch

1.30 — 2.30

Economics

World History

New Business

Marketing

Law

2.30 — 3.30

World Politics

Accounting

Psychology

Economics

Accounting

3.30 — 4.30

International

Business

Business Admin

Leadership Skills

World Politics

Etiquette

Miss Sullivan allowed them all some time to digest the information before continuing.

“If you could please touch the English lesson at 8.00 a.m. on Monday, you’ll see that the screen jumps to a more detailed page, giving you the location, your teacher’s name, any homework due for that day and as you can see, you have an essay due for next Monday. You will also see the coursework tab. If you press that,” Miss Sullivan waited as they each navigated to the correct area. “You’ll see a comprehensive list and detailed notes for each of your lessons, you’ll also notice suggested links for further help and information. Every subject has the same facility, everything is there for you.”

“This is fantastic,” Tom said to Lela as he flew through the pages.

“I must, however, emphasise that although you have all your coursework to hand, do not underestimate how much work will be required and how hard the courses are going to be. The school planners are using you as guinea pigs and have opted for the hardest option this year.”

A bell sounded signifying that it was 8.55 a.m. and time for their next class. Nobody moved.

“Well, everybody, time to go to your first class,” said Monsieur Becherand from the stage.

Everybody in Tom’s class looked at each other, they had no idea where to go.

“It’s OK, I’m your Physics teacher and your first lesson is with me. I’ll take you to the lab,” announced Miss Sullivan to Class IH.

The class breathed a sigh of relief and followed Miss Sullivan to the Science Wing. The rest of the day was really an induction day, to get to know their teachers and the other students in their class.

There were four students of oriental origin. Lela, Chingmei, Mia and Chen. There were two South Americans, Diego the son of the Paraguayan President and Elena the daughter of a Brazilian industrialist. There was one student from the West Indies, Amy, the daughter of the President of Dominica, a tiny Caribbean island. There were five European students, Tom, Tristan, Oleg, Alysia, the daughter of a Greek shipping tycoon and Princess Madeleine of Sweden. There were two students from the Middle East, Jamal the son of the Syrian President and Ahmad. Three North Americans, Thierry, the son of a Canadian businessman, Heather, the daughter of an American financial family and Zach. There were two Africans, Thabo and Hassan, the Crown Prince of Morocco, one Australasian, Holly, the daughter of a very successful designer in Australia and one Indian student, Devesh or ‘Dev’, the son of the richest family in India.

At the end of a rather long and tiring day, Tom and Lela collapsed on Lela’s bed. Neither said anything for a while, they had just finished another five course dinner and were both mentally and physically exhausted.

Tom spoke first. They had not had a minute alone all day.

“So what do you think?”

“Amazing…you?”

“Amazing.”

“What about the people in our class?” asked Lela.

“Very cool, they all seem really nice…you?”

“Yeah, everybody is great and really friendly.”

They continued to discuss the other students, their teachers and their timetable. An hour later, at 9.00 p.m., Tom realised the time.

“Isn’t your father due to dial in for your lesson?”

“No he gave me the night off as it was my first day at school. But we should give them a quick call and let them know what happened.”

“Good idea. It’s 6.00 p.m. back home but if we wait an hour we’re more likely to catch my dad.”

“OK. Let’s stick the TV on while we wait.”

Tom was amazed at how cool the TV system was. It could tap into any service around the world. The menu allowed them to select a continent and sub menus allowed them to drill down to individual TV stations across the world. Tom selected the latest episode of The Apprentice. He loved the American version and unfortunately, his father had declined to be ‘the Boss’ in the UK version, along with a number of the best British businessman. The BBC had ended up running the show with a third-rate entrepreneur and a bunch of no-hope contenders. It was dreadful and cringeful compared to the very slick American version.