The Old Information Department, at least the News branch of it, was old and musty, resembling the books and information they were working with. Jacob was working frantically, as usual, to impress his superiors. He, as well as the majority of the Betas, knew that hidden cameras were watching people constantly; he always worked hard, never knowing when he would be in the lime light. Busy sorting news between the important and unimportant, Jacob was waiting for his workday to be over. The job wasn't what he thought it would be. He hadn't gone to trade school for nine years to categorize papers, yet that's what he did for a living. Categorizing papers into two categories was the first, and most mindless, task. The important news were rewritten, altered if you will, to comply with the Golden State's regulations. The unimportant news were tracked down and ripped from their sources. The news ceased to exist after that point, at least in print. That was the flaw with the system. The news can only be twisted so much before some people remembered the truth. They couldn't mention it of course, for they risked being killed, but everybody knew that there were still people who knew of the past--the life before the war.
Jacob was busy analyzing A Brief History of Gandi when a buzz filled the room, signaling the end of the workday. The piece was intriguing, but he knew it wouldn't make the cut. The Golden State banned all work involving revolutions, and that was the basis of the research paper--Gandi's efforts to create a newer, fairer world. Therefore he would inevitably have to file the paper under "unimportant," even though he thought otherwise. Nevertheless, his day was over, so he stopped worrying about Gandi and the likes. He collected his few items into a briefcase and filed out the door alongside the other Betas, ready to return home. As he passed the Reaper that had been monitoring his shift, he kept his head down, not out of fear but out of respect. Once out of the door he followed the organized line out to the train station.
The train station was a jumbled mess of Betas trying to find their way to a train door. It didn't surprise Jacob though; it was always like this--a busy mess of people worrying more about getting home to a tapped home than trampling somebody. As Jacob made his way to the train door, an elderly man, well considered elderly by The Golden State (the man was just starting to sprout some gray hairs), bumped into him. Jacob muttered a half sincere apology, after all he wasn't the one who bumped into another person, but the man made a bone chilling statement back.
"They're looking for you."
Jacob was taken by surprise, but the message didn't mean much to him. He hadn't been on bad ground with anyone for years. The odds of somebody waiting for him was slim to none; a more likely explanation was that the man was talking to the wrong person. But still, messages like that weren't common. A seen bump or a noticed "glitch" in the normal routine of things could mean being taken by the Reapers for "questioning." We all knew how that always ended up. Jacob made his way to the train door and handed the Reaper positioned there his ID.
"Are you Jacob Barrett?"
Jacob was taken by surprise. Nobody knew his last name. Nobody called him Jacob Barrett. But he wasn't going to tell the Reaper that. The fact that Jacob had been taken aside for questioning before boarding was bad enough; he didn't need a pissed off Reaper on his hands either, so he responded truthfully. "Yes sir, I am Jacob Barrett."
"Follow me. You are being taken into custody. You are now property of the Golden State. At this point you have no rights. You will comply or you will meet death. If you comply, follow me. If you want to make a scene I have orders to shoot you on the spot. I think it is in your best interest to do as I ask."
Jacob followed the man. Death wasn't of his best interest today. The glares were obvious. The train station seemed to slow down in time and everybody was taking their sweet time to glare at him. People weren't moving, they were gawking. They were standing still and silent trying to make sense of what had just happened. A Reaper shot his pistol in the air. "Keep moving or I'll put all of you in god damn custody!" he barked. The train station sped back up. People started moving again and the station cleared out, the train with it. The train was gone, the people were gone, and Jacob was still following the Reaper.