i, Sixth Grader

Mr. Drubble thinks one of his sixth graders is an android but I think he’s an idiot. 

I looked closely at the framed picture on his desk. Two men, early thirties, embracing in front of a Christmas tree, their festive sweaters blending in with the cacophony of decorations. Golden retriever, rehearsed smiles, stiff posture, wedding rings. It was hard to say which was the middle school teacher. They were definitely nerds. Their dog doesn’t even want to be in the picture. Yeah, surely just an idiot but I shouldn’t judge. Lots of people are frightened. And I’m sure the Xandrians will progress to sixth grade androids before too long.

It’s been seven years since a kindergartner glitched in a classroom that I was substitute teaching in. It was sickening to learn that aliens were spying on our schools to develop humanoid artificial intelligence but I was just relieved that I didn’t kill an actual human kid with my awful teaching.

Since then the D.H.S. has started looking for androids in schools all over the country. They’ve developed technologies and they started training “detectors” to pose as substitute teachers and look for androids. I don’t have a clean enough record or a fancy enough degree to be a “detector” for the D.H.S. but I’ve spotted more androids than anybody who does work for them. I’ve spotted twenty kindergartners, twenty seven first graders and five second graders so far. The head of the department used to call me every time to try and glean some insight.

The D.H.S.’s approach seems to be focused on the Xandrian technology itself. They talk about neural network mapping, and computer circuit… stuff. They try to force the androids into situations that would make them glitch. Me on the other hand, I still focus on the kids and the androids just stick out. I am still just a substitute teacher, after all. I didn’t really know what the hell I was doing before the aliens started sending androids so nothing has really changed for me. There’s no typical day. Sometimes I walk into the classroom and I don’t say anything. I just observe. Other times I make up a game on the spot and I let them help me make up the rules.

It’s not exactly teaching I’m interested in. I'm interested in what makes human beings human. I used to think it wasn't anything more special than what makes a squirrel a squirrel. But as I meet more and more kids every day and I see what makes them laugh and cry, I've started to believe there’s some illogical, ineffable, beautiful spark in each and every person. That’s what I’m looking for in these kids and in myself if it’s still there. I’m not looking for androids but something about my style causes them to falter. 

This is the first job I took in which I’m explicitly supposed to be looking for an android. Mr. Drubble must have been friends with the second grade teacher here who had an android last week. She probably said something about it to Drubble even though it’s supposed to be top secret. Mr. Drubble sent me an urgent email last night saying that he was sure he had a case in his class. I probably should have told the D.H.S. but I figured I’d check it out first. I took the sub job before I saw that he was a sixth grade teacher though. If the Xandrians can design sixth graders already then we should just give up.

I looked out at the pimply faces illuminated by their computer screens. It’s hard to see humanity in any of them through the dyed bangs and hoods. The assumption is that it would be harder for the aliens to impersonate the older kids but I don’t know. They hardly interact with each other. Except for the few troublemakers like Mason. He was currently running around closing other kids laptops and laughing at their protestations. He’s testing the reactions and emotions of his peers. I get that. Very human. 

“Aren’t you going to stop him?” One of the pimply faces said. 

“Ummm. It’s time to put our computers away anyway. We need to pack up,” I said.

“There are still three more minutes of computer time,” he said to me as if stating an incontrovertible fact.

They had their last couple minutes of computer time and then plugged them up, got their backpacks on, and lined up to head out. I said goodbye to each of them individually, looking into their eyes one last time. I would say slightly confusing things to them to see how they responded, kind of like Mason. I didn’t get that eerie feeling with any of them. Mason was the last to leave. I had to yell at him all day but I was exactly like him when I was his age. We smiled at each other for the first time all day almost like he knew he would be just like me one day.

In fact, it’s usually kids like Mason who tip me off to the presence of an android. I see it in their faces. It’s like they don’t see the use in trying to get a reaction out of the androids because they know that spark isn’t there. They seem to have some visceral insight about the androids. It’s the way they look at them. They know they aren’t of this world. They feel it. Like the dogs in those movies who instinctually growl at a person who turns out to be possessed or evil or… Wait a second.

I went to Mr. Drubble’s desk and picked up the framed picture. The dog! It didn’t dislike his owners it was completely ignoring them. Not even acknowledging their touch. He doesn’t think he’s in the presence of other living beings! Mr. Drubble!

A wave of panic shot through my body. I tried to take a deep breath. I put the frame down. I got out my phone to call the D.H.S. as I turned to the door but I froze midstep. Standing in the doorway, completely still and expressionless was Mr. Drubble!