Jim turned off the screen and stuffed it into his bag before the flickering drew too much attention. He felt stares boring into him and he blocked them out. He breathed. It was over. He was just like everyone else again.
"And so life must change to survive." Mr. Schreiber pointed to the two bears in the photograph. Jim had never seen a photo of a bear before. They were strange creatures with hunched shoulders and wooly, massive paws. "Which of these bears is more advantaged in this environment?"
The answer was obvious. The bear on the right with the white coat stood a better chance of blending in with the snow. The entire class chimed in with a dull murmur meant to signify the correct answer. There were so many students in the lecture hall that the voices just blended together. It was an academic choir.
"These genetic mutations - accidents, really - offer advantages that give this bear a better chance of survival."
Someone raised a hand. It was Lynn. Lynn, who knew the answers to everything. Lynn, who raised her hand to show the class what she knew - not to learn. Lynn, who was devastating and beautiful and destined for failure.
"So, why didn't they survive? The bears."
Schreiber paused a moment. He paced to the side of the auditorium sized room where Lynn was sitting. (Front row, of course.) He'd probably never been asked that question before.
"It's a great question. There are numerous environmental factors involved, but I suppose I can answer in the context of this lesson. The bears didn't adapt to the changing world."
Everyone seemed to chew on the thought. Jim drew a doodle of a bear on his screen. A hand shot up in the sea of students. Lynn again.
"Yes, Lynn."
"But isn't that partially our fault? Aren't there conditions that change so quickly that no animal could adapt in time?"
Schreiber scratched his head. "Well, it isn't that -"
"Adaptations don't occur in a life. They occur over the course of generations."
Everyone rolled their eyes. Someone groaned. Schreiber wasn't fazed.
"That's right. Let me show you something."
He waved his hand in the air and the screen changed slides. Then a series of hundreds of images scattered through the air, bending and moving so that the students could get a better view. Jim almost gasped. There were animals that he had never seen before, never imagined.
"Each and every one of these creatures is no longer with us." There was an unplanned moment of silence. Jim read the labels attached to each image. Giraffe. Tiger. Elephant. Polar Bear. Leopard. Blue Jay. Orangutan. They were like creatures from a storybook. "They are no longer with us because they did not have the favorable mutated traits that would allow them to survive."
Lynn didn't raise her hand when she spoke this time. Her face was bright red and she was talking louder and louder.
"But this is avoidable. What animal can adapt to being drenched in oil? What animal can adapt to barely breathable air?"
It seemed the more flustered Lynn became, the more Schreiber relaxed. He gave her a soft smile. The skin around his eyes crinkled.
"I understand your frustration. And you're right. But this world is harsh." He swept his hand through the air and all images of extinct animals vanished. He lifted his hand again and one image materialized in the air. "Meet the Crute." Soft laughter spread throughout the room. It was the mammal equivalent of a cockroach. One pearly, bug eye slapped on either side of it's skull. Four spindly legs and two ratty bat wings.
"Now I know it isn't anyone's favorite animal. But the Crute is a survivor. These gills here," he lit up the side of the Crute's neck to demonstrate, "have allowed it the ability to filter the air into something breathable."
Jim looked at Lynn. Her face was buried in one hand. She was not looking at the Crute. A door swung open. A short-haired woman clacked across the front of the lecture hall. She and Schreiber talked in hushed tones. Then he nodded.
"Jim West?" Jim's pulse quickened. "Is there a Jim West here?"
He stood up. He had to. "I'm here."
The woman turned to him. "I'll just need you for a moment Jim. Bring your things."
###
Jim flipped through a tome sized packet of pages entitled. The top page read: JIM WEST LIFE TRACK ASSESSMENT.
"Sorry about that," the woman said. She had returned with a steaming cup of coffee. She had those signs on her wall that employers were required to have. Minimum wage information, equal employment opportunities and, of course, the pollution warnings. "Well," she smiled. There was lipstick on her teeth. "I'm Jayna, your new Life Track counselor. It's nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you. What happened to the last one?"
"The what?"
"My last counselor. What happened to her?"
"She was fired. It's my first day."
"Oh."
Her entire face had become a smile. She raised her voice a few octaves higher than what must have been natural. "Enough about me. We're here to talk about you." She flipped through the assessment for a moment, sipping her coffee. Jim waited. The further she read through the assessment, the more downcast her face became. "Oh, John."
"Jim."
"I'm sorry?"
"My name is Jim."
She squawked. "Jim. Duh."
Jim frowned. "It says at the top."
"Anyways, Jim. We need to talk about your grades. At the rate you're moving in your current Life Track plan, you won't graduate into a career until you're," she counted on her fingers, "thirty-five."
Jim didn't know what to say. He'd avoided this as long as he could.
"Are you sure you're on the right life track?"
"Well, no I'm not," he said. "I just tried to pick something that led to a good paying job. My mom says it's a numbers game."
"Smart woman, your mother."
"So what should I do?"
"Well, for one, we should look at what career you're best suited for." She pulled up her screen and flicked some windows around in the air. Jim grabbed one hand with the other to stop himself from tapping his fingers on the desk. "I'll index your test scores and a few basic personality assessments. You'll probably remember taking those every couple years."
"Okay, yeah."
She tapped away for a moment.
"Wow, look at that."
"What, what is it?"
"I've found a few tracks that are perfect for you."
Jim smiled. He couldn't help it. "What are they?"
"Really, Jim these are great. The best part is that you don't really need that much more schooling. You could start as an intern for some of these jobs in the next couple years."
"Like what kinds of jobs?"
"As you know, there are many new jobs in the autocar industry."
"My dad works with autocars." This was getting better. He could be an engineer.
"There's a position here for a data entry specialist." She was going to explode with excitement.
He was a balloon, slowly deflating. "A what?"
"Like I said, the autocar industry is booming. Companies are looking for upstart young workers like yourself to enter coordinates and route data to better serve the needs of our commuters."
"Data entry?"
"Mhmm."
"I don't know."
"There's an accountant position also, but you aren't very good with numbers." She turned the screen around so he could see it. Jim stared at the assessment. None of the numbers and graphs on the screen meant anything to him.
"So would I wear a shirt and tie and all that?"
"Of course. And it's really not that much more school. A few more years, really. You'll just have to learn some basic software and get a psychology degree."
"A psychology degree? Why?"
"It's a requirement."
He was empty. He was numb.
"I'm really not sure about all this."
"By all means. Take some time to think about it and let's regroup in a month or so." They got up, shook his hand and opened the door for him. She stopped him before he walked away.
"This is your life, Jim."