I knew it was coming. It was only a matter of time before the interrogation began and my true loyalty would be put on a false front. I didn’t let it bother me, though. I knew if I thought about it too much I would make myself vulnerable to suspicion and therefore have to face the government's persecution sooner rather than what I had hoped to be later. Honestly, there was no way out and no way to win. We were caught in the ever changing development of modern technology that was aiding a totalitarian government. I was just an eyewitness.

Before dawn on a tuesday morning, I wake up to a soft jolt of electricity running through my body, emanating from the corpulent bit of skin between my thumb and pointer finger of my right hand. As I make my way out of bed, I sleepily rub the area with my other hand in gentle, circular motions. Even after all of these years, my skin is still sore from the injection of the RFID chip. I was only a child when they first were being forced upon the population and the government used third party disguises to make the choice appear to be of people’s free will, such as offering it as an alternative to credit cards or currencies and providing a wireless membership into areas that usually required tickets. They made it seem like a luxury. A new bit of technology that was the current ‘must-have,’ where very few people saw through their inapt set up. With my parents among the Christian insurgents who were opposed to the idea of having their every move tracked by a chip the size of a piece of rice, I was honorably inducted into their group of nonconformists.

The apostates silently gathered and went unnoticed by the public for quite some time, however the authorities were well aware of the situation, as they were with any and every thing that there was to know about the population in which it governed. People in my childhood town began to disappear. At first just one or two every few weeks, but as time went on and our rebellious manner became more organized, it seemed like every day another friend mysteriously ceased to exist with no trace of a struggle. Eventually, my parents were succumbed by the men in theoretical black suits once they were portrayed as a threat. I guess they thought that I was young enough to still be persuaded into the new automation nation, so lived out the rest of my childhood with a facilitated family who worked tirelessly to convince me of the pure intentions of the authorities. While I secretly still kept my ties with the nonconformists, I gained back the trust of the government and convinced them of my allegiance.

At the age of eighteen, I had landed a government job in the department of inquisition and worked to process reports of suspicious activity. Of course, I did apply to this specific job to be able to track the information obtained about the group in which my true loyalty did lay. I had my work laid out for me and I was ready to do whatever I had to do to protect my identity.  

At first, I struggled to find ways to inconspicuously find and transfer valuable information since my every move seemed to be watched and any suspicious activity would definitely be found. Over the years, I learned the flaws in the computer system and came up with stealthy ways to get around them. I was eventually able to transfer information directly to the servers that can be accessed by my anonymous connections who stayed in remote locations. I managed to maintain a low profile and allowed my abettors to do the same, especially as I scrolled through the potentialized threats. However, no matter how careful I was, the possibility of being recognized as a claim myself was exponentially increasing as the risk grew. The risk was worth it. I learned quickly to disguise my anxiety and work efficiently, but my colleagues had been trained, just as I had, to pick up on the little things. I knew that day was it for me. I always kept to myself, walked around with my head down and avoided eye contact. For three years, no one had ever talked to me after I completed my training week. The job didn’t involve collaboration, so there was no socializing. Yet, on one particularly rainy tuesday,  the man who always wore the color grey in the dull cubicle next to me made a simple comment on the depressing showering of water droplets at the exact time that I was sending a document on the punishments of protesters to an anonymous server. I agreed as we made quick and uncomfortable eye contact.

It was my body that gave it away. The very details that would never be overlooked. The surprise that was in my eyes wouldn’t have been enough to raise suspicion, but it was the very thing keeping me alive that would be the death of me. It was the one thing that was out of my control. I knew it could very well be the thing that gave me away. It was far too easy for them to see how the distinctive rate of my blood being pumped through my body raised itself to an all time high. I felt it in my own ears and knew I had officially crossed a line. I was finally going to learn first hand what the punishments for treason is.

Within minutes, a man dressed in a black suit was pulling me from my desk chair. The RFID was feeding my pulse numbers into the wrong hands as it continued to ascend. There was nowhere to run and nothing I could do.

“You knew it was coming.” He whispered in my ear as felt the shock over my speechless body. He was right. Of course I knew it was coming.

“It was only a matter of time.” I smirked.