Simia

by Paris Singer

  “Thank you,” I said, not really sure if I’d shouted my words, as my ears were ringing already. I looked around for empty spaces around the tables, hoping the teacher wouldn’t speak again until I’d found one. The other students continued gazing at me, or smelling in my direction if they didn’t have eyes. I started feeling self-conscious when I finally found one of the three grooves around the tables free.

  “Great,” said a Volo student standing around the table to another who replied, “Yeah.”

  As soon as I got to the table, Mr. Hibutt opened his mouth, and I braced myself, placing my hands over my ears.

  “Eyes this way. Let’s continue with the class. As you may remember, today we will look at the complex organs of a Cimex.” Mr. Hibutt walked toward the back of the table and squatted, making a movement with his hands as if he were typing. A moment later, a large brown insectoid appeared hovering above the table. It looked dead on its back, with its ten long legs pointing to the ceiling. Even though it was holographic, the creature looked real enough.

  “Now, I want you to follow along with me,” continued Mr. Hibutt. No sooner had he spoken than smaller versions of the insectoid appeared in the center of each table. In his webbed hand he held a silvery scalpel. As he cut along its underbelly so, too, was it shown on the smaller ones. When the teacher had made the full cut, I looked inside and started to feel light-headed and queasy at the sight so I turned away.

  “Get closer,” bellowed Mr. Hibutt, “take a good look. See how the Cimex have three layers of intestines?”

  The other students leaned in, so I forced myself to peer inside again. The bright green guts were glossy and wriggling and had strings of white slime all over them.

  I backed away and put my hand in front of my mouth—I had to find a bathroom immediately.

  “Is something the matter, new student?” blasted Mr. Hibutt.

  Making every effort not to throw up everywhere, my balance was off and my ears uncovered. I tumbled backward and fell hard on the floor to the raucous laughter of the class. I scrambled to my feet and ran out of the room, desperate to find a bathroom—any bathroom—as quickly as possible.

  I looked around but couldn’t see any signs. I ran along toward the walkway, but it was too late. I dove into a small cluster of plants by the wall, and did what I had to do. It was not a good start to the day.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  I got to my feet and stood for a moment. I wanted to walk out of the academy and never go back. What good would that do? Where would I go? Damn it. I would have to suck it up and go back in the class. Feeling grossed out by looking inside an insectoid must be a common thing, right?

  I reached out to the cluster of plants ahead, and plucked two soft-looking yellow berries from one, before turning and walking back toward the classroom. I took a deep breath, stuffed the berries in my ears, and opened the door.

  “Welcome back, new student,” said Mr. Hibutt. With the help of the berries, his voice was now an acceptable register of loudness. I walked back to the desk, noticing the tittering, mocking faces of the other students.

  “Now,” continued the teacher, “who would like to tell me what this is? New student, perhaps? What is your name?”

  “Seven,” I replied.

  “Sorry? What is your name?” asked Mr. Hibutt, cupping a hand to the side of his head.

  “Seven,” I said much louder. The students whispered to each other and giggled again. I felt my cheeks redden.

  “Settle down, settle down. Would you like to tell me what this is, Seven?”

  For all the studying I’d done over the years, I’d never seen an insectoid like that. The frustration mounted as I tried to think of similar ones I’d studied, but nothing came to mind.

  “Come on, Seven,” said Mr. Hibutt, walking toward the front of the desk, “this is rudimentary knowledge. It is nothing that has not been covered before.”

  “I don’t know,” I said, feeling the walls closing in as everyone’s gaze bore into me.

  The teacher paused for a moment, then said, “Well, perhaps they didn’t teach such basics where you’re from. Anyone else?”

  Every student seemed to know. Mr. Hibutt chose a long-legged Triptorian girl.

  “The lactes,” she warbled with confidence from both mouths on either end of her long, pearly head.

  “Well done, yes,” said the teacher, pointing at the Triptorian, “The lactes. Remember that, Seven. It will come up again.”

  The lesson went on in much the same way, with Mr. Hibutt singling me out, and students laughing when I couldn’t answer. I was glad for the lesson to end. The day had just started, but I already felt drained of energy. I stepped out of class and realized I didn’t know where to go next. Remembering I had a device around my head, I said, “On,” but nothing happened. That stupid Al never told me how to make it work. “Start.” Nothing. “Begin.” Nothing. “Engage.” I could feel myself getting angry. “How do you start this stupid thing?”

  “You gotta tap your ugly head, genius,” quipped a Quan as he walked past me with a group of his friends, who were also laughing at me.

  I tapped my forehead and heard the voice of Al. “Hello, Seven. How may I be of service?”

  “You didn’t tell me how to turn this stupid thing on,” I seethed under my breath.

  “My apologies, Seven. I thought it common knowledge.”

  “Yeah, well, not everyone knows everything.”

  “I will take that into consideration, Seven. How may I be of assistance?”

  “What’s my next class?” I asked.

  “Physical Development in the Dome. To view the location of the Dome in your map, just say ‘Dome’.”

  “Physical Development? Do you mean Sphere class?”

  “Physical Development requires physical exertion and skill, tuning the student’s body and mind through controlled movements in a controlled environment.”

  “So, Sphere.”

  “It is as described, Seven.”

  “Dome,” I said. A four-dimensional hologram of the academy appeared in front of me, showing a red dot on the large dome that sat on top.

  “Dome track,” I said, remembering the feature, and a set of arrows appeared ahead of me.

  “Is there anything else I can—”

  “No, thanks,” I said, as I made my way to the elevators. I may not have been great at Biology, I said to myself, but I’ll show them what I can do in Sphere.

  ***

  The elevator was full, but I squeezed in between a large Quan and the wall. Little by little it emptied until there was only a Syreni boy inside with me. When the doors opened, I stepped out into the Dome. It was almost as high as the Sky Drifter’s own. The suns were bright but mellow, which made it warm inside. Tall purple and pink trees lined the sides left and right, framing the expansive landscape ahead.

  In the Dome's center were some students, all wearing figure-fitting red suits, and a female Volo, who wore a dark-blue suit, speaking with them.

  The Syreni boy walked past me and headed to a reflective rectangular liquid screen akin to water, to the left of the Dome.

  “Get a move on, Parkins,” cried the teacher. “Put your suit on—we’re about to begin. You,” she shouted, turning. “Who are you?”

  “I’m new,” I replied, worried that I couldn’t see a Sphere cage anywhere.

  “C’mere. Let me get a good look at you.”

  I walked toward the teacher noticing that the Syreni boy had walked through and out of the screen and was now wearing the same red body suit as the other students.

  “What’s your name?” asked the teacher.

  “Seven,” I replied.

  “Seven?” she exclaimed, “What kind of name’s that? It’s a number.”

  “That‘s the name they gave me," I replied.

  “It is, is it?” The teacher looked at me with suspicion, like she couldn’t quite figure out what I was. “Well, fair enough,” she shrugged. “I’m Ms. Aerifer. Get t
o the changing thing-a-ma-gig so we can get started. If you get one of the torn ones, just walk back through until you don’t. I can’t understand how they’re getting worn down so quickly.”

  I walked over to it and copied what I’d seen the Syreni boy do. No sooner had I stepped through the screen than I was out the other side wearing a red suit that fit like my own skin, from my neck to my feet, which also seemed to include heavy-soled boots. It almost felt like the type of suit I wore for Sphere.

  I headed toward the group of students and noticed that one of them was the guy named Sally that I’d met the night before. He glanced over at me, so I nodded at him. He looked away pretending he hadn’t seen me, but I was sure he had. Whatever, I thought. I guess we’re not going to be friends.

  “Now we’re all here,” cried Ms. Aerifer, “let’s begin the class.”

  The students lined up facing the teacher and spaced themselves out. I positioned myself at the far end, wondering what we were about to do. It was now clear we would not be doing Sphere, but I had still hoped we’d be practicing it somehow.

  “Activate your suits,” commanded the teacher.

  “Activate,” exclaimed all the students.

  “Activate,” I copied. In a flash, my entire body vibrated, and a pleasant warmth spread from my chest to my extremities.

  “Now, follow along,” said Ms. Aerifer. She bent down and touched the tips of her toes. The other students mimicked her, touching their own with no apparent effort. Confident I could, too, I bent down but, hard as I tried, I couldn’t get past my shins. It was strange, even though we’d only just started, it felt like my body had already been though a tough Sphere practice.

  The teacher then did various stretches and impossible poses, from standing on her head, to putting one leg behind it. Again, the others mimicked her movements, without even breaking a sweat.

  “Come on, Seven,” barked Ms. Aerifer, “You can do better than that. Maybe you’re not used to exercising with the suit on where you’re from?”

  “The suit?” I asked, confused.

  “I thought that had to be it,” the teacher chuckled. “The toning suit emits slight waves of electricity around the body, stimulating the muscles into development and stretching. I’m sure it may be a little challenging if you’re not used to it. Try harder, Seven. Even a novice should be able to do these stretches.”

  Much like in Biology class, I could feel all eyes on me, judging and mocking because I couldn’t do those pointless exercises in that stupid suit.

  “I can’t,” I groaned, putting my leg down. “I can’t bend that way—I’m not a Volucris.”

  “No one else seems to have any trouble doing it, Mr. Seven,” she quipped, creating a chain of titters and whispers. I could feel my frustration mounting. What kind of class was that, anyway? Who cared if I couldn’t put my legs behind my head? What good was it?

  “I don’t care,” I said under my breath.

  “What did you say, Mr. Seven? I couldn’t quite hear you,” said the teacher, taking two steps toward me.

  “I said I don’t care. This is pointless. When are we going to do a real sport like Sphere? Then you’ll see what I can do—with or without the suit.”

  Ms. Aerifer stopped and frowned in clear surprise.

  “I don’t know where you came from, Mr. Seven, but that barbaric excuse for a sport was rightly banned some thirty years ago, and has no place in a civilized society. I won’t have that talk in my class.”

  It felt like all the blood had rushed from my face and someone had punched my gut. I’d never missed the Sky Drifter as much as I did in that moment. I didn’t care if it’d all been fake. At least I’d been happy there—my friends, my room, Ava, and Sphere: the sport I excelled at. I wanted it all to have been a bad dream. I wanted so badly to just open my eyes to the sound of Iris knocking on my door, telling me to get up. At that moment I wished I’d never met Alana; that she’d just left me to live my life as it was. Who did she think she was to decide how and where I should live? And if she hadn’t meddled, One would still be alive. I closed my hands into fists and closed my eyes, wishing it all away.

  A melodic tone rang in the Dome.

  “Let’s leave it there,” said, Ms. Aerifer. “We’ll continue where we left off next time. Don’t forget to use the wash functions on your suits before you change out of them.”

  As I opened my eyes, I heard some students say “Wash,” as they walked back toward the changing screen. The teacher made her way toward me. “I know it can be hard being a new student, Seven, but causing trouble isn’t the way to integrate yourself or gain the respect of your peers.”

  “‘Causing trouble’?” I repeated, “All I said was that I wanted to play Sphere. How’s that causing trouble?”

  “That’s enough of that,” quipped the teacher. “If you’re not willing to listen, I can’t help you. But believe me when I say that making it a habit of talking about things that are illegal is the fastest way to find yourself on the wrong path of life, and to getting suspended, or worse. I will see you next class, Mr. Seven.” Walking toward the elevators, she called back, “Don’t forget to use the wash function of the suit before returning it to the changing screen.”

  I stood by myself, more confused, alone and upset than I had been before.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  I tapped my forehead.

  “How may I be—”

  “Where do I go now?” I asked Al.

  “The canteen, Seven, situated on the ground floor.”

  I stood a moment, then said, “Al?”

  “Yes, Seven?”

  I wanted to ask him why everything seemed harsher there. Why I felt so stupid, like I’d never learned anything. Why Sphere—the one thing I loved doing above all—had been banned.

  “Nothing. Canteen track.”

  Al wasn’t like Ava had been. He wouldn’t have understood what I was talking about. I got into the elevator and descended to the ground floor. The atrium was full of students of every species and color, all chatting away on their way to somewhere, or sitting around just hanging out while they ate.

  I followed the arrows to the large canteen on the right. It was as busy as the canteen aboard the Sky Drifter had been. At least some things hadn’t changed. However, instead of choosing from menus at the tables, there was a queue to get lunch from a long counter to the right. The steam from the cookers and fryers rose and spread around the canteen, creating a light mist that tasted salty.

  I picked up a tray, ducking to avoid being hit by a large Drillos as it swung its tail, and lined up.

  “What’ll it be, sweetie?” asked a lunch lady, whose blubbery, off-yellow face made it seem like she would melt onto the food.

  “Just a burger, thanks,” I said, eyeing the few choices on offer.

  The lunch lady picked it up and slapped it on the tray I carried.

  “Uh, thanks,” I said, and turned to find an empty seat.

  “Hey, hey,” the lunch lady snapped. “You pay for that there,” she pointed to the end of the line. “Two creds.”

  “Two creds?” I said.

  “Whatareya deaf? Two creds. You gonna pay or aint’cha?”

  “But I don’t… I don’t have any creds.” I made a mental note to check the codex in my room for the credits the councilman had mentioned.

  “No creds, no food,” she snapped. She leaned forward and made to grab at the burger, when from beside me someone said, “This guy’s lunch is on me, ‘sweetie’. Don’t worry about it.”

  The lunch lady leaned back and said, “Smart mouth. Next.”

  I turned to see Sally standing there.

  “Oh, thanks,” I said, “I didn’t know we needed cr—”

  “It’s nothing”, he said, getting into line behind me.

  “Hey, no cutting,” someone yelled out from somewhere at the back of the queue.

  “Come here and stop me,” Sally shouted back. “Yeah, I thought so. So, how you doin’, kid?”


  “Fine, thanks, I replied, remembering he’d blanked me in the previous class.”

  “Oh, hey, you’re not upset about earlier, are ya? You know how things are—guy’s gotta keep his reputation. Wouldn’t do me many favors hangin’ out with the new kid, am I right?” he chuckled.

  Glad as I was that he was buying me lunch, in that moment all I wanted to do was punch him. “So what do you want with me now? Not worried about your ‘reputation’ any more?”

  Sally’s expression changed to a serious one. “Something’s come to my attention, which means we need to talk.”

  “Talk? What about?” I asked, putting my tray down at the checkout counter.

  He leaned forward and hovered a thick white bracelet he was wearing around his left wrist over a small, rectangular pad on the counter. “Take your gross burger and follow me.”

  ***

  “Where are we going?” I asked, trying to keep up with Sally through the throng of students. He snaked around till he got to the main doors to the academy and stepped outside. I walked out after him into the warm afternoon.

  “Hey:”

  I turned and saw Sally leaning back against the wall.

  “What’s this about?” I asked.