The Collective Protocol by Brian Parker

said, “Excuse me?”
    “I said you’re wrong. We don’t deserve this. It’s not some type of… of biblical plague affecting only the United States.”
    The older instructor peered into the semi-darkness of the crowd as the stadium seating rose above him. “I’m sorry, who’s speaking please?”
    Reagan looked for help from the students to her left and right, who both made motions with their eyes to indicate that she should stand up. She stood slowly and said, “Um, Reagan Lockhart, sir.”
    The professor crossed his arms over his chest and tapped a finger against his chin. “Lockhart… Lockhart… You’re the girl who was at the Razor’s Edge the night of the massacre,” he stated. “I never said that we had a biblical plague, young lady. I did ask if we deserved it because of our rampant consumerism, flagrant violations of nature’s laws and total disregard for anyone but ourselves. The American people are a disgusting race, the kind that makes others hate us unconditionally.”
    Her fingernails bit into the palms of her hands as she listened to him rant. “Are you an American citizen, professor?”
    “Of course I am,” he replied instantly.
    “If you hate it here so much, then why don’t you leave? You’ve been given the right to stand in front of others and say the things that you’re saying because you live here. Go try doing that in Nicaragua. You’d disappear and no one would ever hear from you again.”
    “Is that a threat?” he asked in alarm. “The Dean said we should watch out for you and now you’re threatening me?”
    “What are you talking about? I didn’t threaten you,” she replied in disbelief. “I challenged your accusation that our nation deserves to have all of these things happen to us.”
    “You will leave this lecture hall immediately or I’ll call the campus police and have you escorted away!”
    “Are you kidding me? Someone disagrees with you and you threaten to have them arrested? The rest of us may have some quirks, but its people like you who are the real problem.”
    Several people in the audience clapped in approval and the professor glared in the direction of the sounds. “Get out! Don’t you ever return to this classroom or I will have you expelled!”
    Reagan bent to gather her things. How had the day turned to this? It had started out badly, with another blackout, and now this. She slung her backpack over her shoulder and pushed roughly along the row of seats until she’d cleared the legs and knees of her fellow students.
    She held her head high as she walked up the stairs towards the exit. She knew that she had said the right thing and for a member of the faculty to say that we deserved these events was preposterous. A quick glance at her watch told her that she had enough time to make it over to the Admissions office so she could drop the class before the hateful little man could go into the system after class and give her a failing grade.
    *****
    Thousands of miles away, Paige Watkins smiled underneath the Neuroactuator’s headband. Her sister’s world was about to come crashing down around her. She’d watched her flourish and grow over the years under her loving little family’s blanket of trust and stability. It made her sick.
    There was a reason why she’d specifically chosen the nightclub in Washington to demonstrate the power of the Neuroactuator for the prime minister. She followed Reagan’s blog and knew days in advance that her sister planned to be there working on a project, so it was a simple matter to arrange for the music files and records to be swapped out to the ones with her messages hidden inside.
    Even as she controlled millions of animals, she’d watched her sister squirm under the constant battery of questions from the police. She’d been the one who made the call about the stupid dog in the neighborhood that Reagan cared so much about. She’d just spat those words from the old professor’s mouth.
    Paige planned to up