The forms might be the same, but the room numbering system is totally different. The letter comes before the number in the resistance system.



        He motioned for them to follow him inside the base. They followed. The inside of the base was much like it had looked from above. There were several concrete buildings, and a number of people milling about. The soldier walked over to a different soldier, and said, “New recruits.” The other soldier was better groomed than the first one, merely slightly unkempt. After the first soldier left, the second one began walking toward a building.
        They came. The building was the larger building they had noticed from above. There was a plaque on the door which informed the world that this was building 1A. Apart from the size and the identification plaque, it was indistinguishable from every other building, constructed of concrete in a squat rectangle.
        The soldier opened the door, and motioned for them to enter before him. The room inside was of medium size, with a desk against the far wall. Sitting behind the desk was a man, reading a document on the desk. It was hard to tell how tall he was, as he was sitting. He was thin, and had an expression of disgust on his face. They stood in front of him for several minutes, until he finally looked up.
        “Who are you, and what are you doing here?”
        “I am Gloria Rodriguez, this man standing here is Frederick Richardson, and the other one is John Smith. We wish to enlist in the Dictatorship Security Force.”
        “I see. This process will not take long. After you are enlisted, report to building 5C for quarters assignment. Training starts tomorrow morning.”
        As he said this, he produced a familiar looking stack of papers from his desk, and handed a third of it to each of them.
        “These are the forms for Dictatorship enlistment. Read and sign them.”
        They read the forms. The forms asked for total loyalty to the Dictatorship, secrecy for all sensitive information, and so on.
        “Dictatorship or Resistance, the forms are the same,” thought Dominica.
        After a few minutes of reading small print, they signed the forms. Dominica turned to the man who had given the forms, expecting that he would say something. He was, instead, ignoring them, and reading a different stack of papers on his desk.
        “I guess we should head to building 5C.”
        “Suppose so.”



This entry was posted in Pages.

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