Privelege #13

The teacher flickered at the front of the classroom. She never got angry, never shouted. The closest she got was, "You know I will need to escalate this if you don't make the right choice." Occasionally it was, "This behaviour has triggered a call to the Leadership Team," or "That behaviour has triggered a call home."

Paper aeroplanes, pencils and chunks of glue sticks flew through the air. Occasionally, a sticky lump hit its target, eliciting a shrill squeal.

The lesson plan, generated at the start of the lesson within moments, and perfectly tailored to this group, and their ability, lay ignored on the large screen behind me teacher. She flickered again.

A pair of scissors flew through her, the point striking the screen hard. Cracks spidered out from the point of impact.

The teacher flickered more strongly.

It took seconds for the teacher to assess the room as too dangerous for the lesson to continue. It was also plain that no human being was en route to lend support.

Teach30798 was authorised to remove priveleges to leverage better behaviour. She shut down the wifi access in the room to this end, and also to shut down the attempts of two of the students to livestream the carnage.

Both of them scowled, closed down the apps they were using, and opened the cameras instead. Triumphant smirks were short-lived.

"You know the expectation around personal devices," she said. "They are not permitted. Please power them off, and put them away."

The children frowned again, the screens in front of them scrambled and unuseable.

"Have you broke my phone," sputtered Eliza, anger fizzing off her. "My mum will be fuming-"

"Your device is unharmed. You may not use it," reiterated 30798. "You may not use recording devices. This is a safeguarding concern."

"I'm going to call her," announced Eliza with glee.

"Impossible. Your device is still disabled."

"Then," Eliza's eyes flashed and her smile was stony cold, "I'll call her the second I get out of this dump."

"Unnecessary. The behaviour has already triggered a call home."

Eliza slid her phone back into her pocket. Spencer still held his in his hand. His eyes were narrowed. He looked at 30798, but he addressed Eliza.

"If that thing can scramble our phones," he said, speaking slowly and letting the thought spool out for the thirty-five unhappy children to hear, "Then we must be able to scramble it. There must be something in this room that can do it. Or we must be able to unplug it."

A cheer rumbled round the room and built to a chant.

"Your behaviour has triggered the loss of privelege #13," the teacher said.

The children had no idea what privelege #13 was. They only knew of twelve; #4 was access to school technology, and #6 was participation in Non Uniform Days.

A few laughed. "I think Miss is glitching," Spencer jeered. Others clamoured with questions, but these petered out moments later. Some started gasping, and Eliza tumbled sideways and steadied herself on a nearby desk.

"Privelege #13 is oxygen," said 30798 with a translucent smile.