Author: Mark Renney

At age ten, Martin had been selected for the Specialism. He, and just one other pupil, were singled out and chosen and she promptly disappeared from the school and entered one of the Academies. But Martin’s father was against the decision. He, like so many back then, was anti the Specialism. He exclaimed it was an abomination, that the Government was encouraging and nurturing ‘freaks of nature.’

Martin’s teachers did their very best to convince his father that it was a great opportunity, pointing out that only a small percentage of those selected actually developed a particular Specialism. But all those educated in an academy were able to enter the field of research and work for Martin would be guaranteed, his prospects unlimited. But Martin’s father refused to listen, in fact he became even angrier, his language more aggressive, his manner more volatile. And so Martin remained at the local school.

The records show clearly that Martin had been an outstanding student. He was top in all of his classes and his exam results were off the charts. But no-one remembered him, not the teachers nor the other students. He was at best a vague recollection.

In the aftermath of his father’s anger and outrage, Martin wanted to disappear. He withdrew into himself and discovered he had an uncanny ability to melt into the background, to go unnoticed. He honed this skill, as he began to realise that it was a skill.

Martin stood at the centre of the classroom, waving his arms about and pulling faces. But no-one looked, no-one as much as lifted their head to glance at him. He moved across the room toward the teacher’s desk and, standing alongside her, he turned the little dial in his head.

The teacher pulled back in her chair.

‘Oh, Martin,’ she said. ‘I didn’t notice you there. What can I do for you?’

Martin didn’t answer and, stepping back, he turned the dial again and watched and waited as, perplexed, she stared into space until she eventually looked back down at the paperwork in front of her.

No-one could stop Martin now, not even his father. He could do whatever he wanted and go wherever he liked. Martin entered an academy, but covertly, and, unseen, he attended the classes. If there was an empty seat he sat, if not he stood at the back. It wasn’t so very different; new teacher, unknown students, but just another school.

Martin only turned the dial when he was at home and each time he did, it took his father a little longer to remember. To call him by his name.