“Hey! Stop that.”
Nalton flung the cap on Dominy’s desk. “She’s opinionated.”
Genna laughed. “Opinion? No, this so-called art is a reproduction.”
Nalton turned to Dominy. “Art’s one of her many specialties.”
She maneuvered around piles of old paper books like she was on an exploratory mission. On his desk was a tall stack of staff paper scribbled with musical notes. “Now this is your creation, right?” She studied the top page and hummed the melody. “Not bad.” She clipped it to the wall.
“I’ve composed music since I was a kid.” He pointed back to the stack. “That’ll be my first entry into the Aspirian Games. I’m memorizing it so I can work on the piece, even if subconsciously, all the time.” He didn’t tell them he was having a hard time with some of the orchestral voices—strings, woodwind, and percussion. Stand tall.
Cal spotted a piece of paper peeking out from under Dominy’s headrest. He shot a wry smile at Dominy. “I know what you have under there.” Dominy lurched forward. Cal dove on the cot, the frame flexing under his solid body. He reached under the pillow and grabbed the paper.
“Sorry to disappoint you.” Dominy snatched the paper. It was his notes on high-temperature superconductivity. “Never know when an inspiration will hit you.”
Genna grinned, sporting two beautiful dimples. “So, what is your story, worm? Nalton’s telling everyone you’re a ninety-nine.”
“I don’t know about—worm? Why does everyone call me worm?”
She tossed back carbon-black hair, tresses worn unusually long. “Because here, as a First, you’re a worm. Technically, you’re closer to blue-green algae but not nearly as poetic. You’re to slither underground, staying out of the consciousness of Aspiria. You’re not to speak unless spoken to. You’re only to emerge from the slime when you’ve increased your brain power beyond that of, well, a worm’s.”
Dominy spun toward Nalton in search of an explanation.
“Firsts are stuck with a nickname: worms. Actually, we’ve come to like it.”
Genna pursed her lips. “Strictly for motivational purposes.”
This girl was a for-sure ninety-nine and not a point less. This was Dominy’s chance. He angled his neck forward, trying to make contact with her cadmium eyes. He’d never recognized beauty—in a person that is—before now. “Uh, excuse me, Genna? Would you like to start a relationship?” For a moment, silence fell. Joy overwhelmed him.
Nalton spat, sending river pebbles strafing across the floor.
“Ugh.” Genna sidestepped the projectiles. “Not another arrogant worm.”
“Uh, sorry. I, uh, just thought you might want to be my study partner.”
Genna spun around and headed for the door followed by Cal.
Dominy turned toward Nalton and shrugged. “I’m trying to improve.”
“Keep working on that.” Nalton smiled.
They shuffled out of the room and Dominy stepped on his cell’s threshold. The corridor lit. Genna and Cal turned toward the light. Their bug-eyed stares focused not on Dominy but above him.
Dominy slowly turned and came face to face with his own image, superimposed with a giant-sized number. Sixty-six. His mind rebelled at the number. Probation? Finally, he spun back around. There they stood, Genna and Cal laughing, heads craned, staring at the sixty-six.
“Hey, Nalton.” Genna nodded. “You’re right—upside down, the new outsider is a ninety-nine.”
Cal leapt in front of Dominy, his thick chest millimeters from Dominy’s eyes. “Did you lie?” He swiveled his head toward Genna and Nalton. “Your search team just shrunk. I don’t trust the Dreamer.”
“No, no, no.” Dominy’s face burned hot with embarrassment. He stepped back, bent over at the waist and buried his face in his hands.
Chapter Five
Dominy gazed across the cafeteria at the sea of puffy-eyed faces, searching for his debate teammate, okay, ex-teammate, Shalene.
“It’s the most beautiful building in Aspiria.” Genna gestured at the ribbed arches supporting a cathedral ceiling. “It’s the only way to get worms eating.”
Nalton tightened his belt and pointed. “My favorite section’s over there, the connected semicircles.”
Dominy flicked a glance toward the ceiling. “Parabolas.”
“Uh, what?”
Dominy tapped his forehead and continued scanning the expansive eating area. “The shapes, they’re not semicircles. They’re parabolic—the ideal shape for a weight-bearing arch.”
Genna shook her head.
“Just speaking the truth.” Always exude confidence. Yes, Mother.
“It’s how you say it. Don’t be so arrogant.” Genna placed her hand on Nalton’s shoulder.
Dominy shrugged. The clattering of metal utensils off porcelain plates and the clinking of crystal goblets grated on his nerves. The randomness of the sound and its lack of structure left him longing for a melody. Arrogant?
The three worms split up. Dominy dashed down the center-most aisle, weaving his way down a row of native-borns. He had met some of them, and other than some physical traits, they weren’t that different from the outsiders.
“Excuse me, has anyone seen Shalene?” The students shook their heads and continued slamming down their food. He read a placard on the table: “Calories Are Critical.” Genna was right. They were probably desperate to return to their studies and competition.
A student grabbed his sleeve. “Hey, you, pass the C12H22O11.”
Dominy snatched a sugar jar at the end of table and handed it over to the smirking student.
Smirker eyed Dominy’s robe. “Where’s your apron?”
Dominy surveyed the cafeteria. Several student-aged workers donning aprons pushed gleaming silver service trays through the rows.
Four hands with water crystals reached out toward Dominy. “Fill, please!” The Seconds erupted in laughter, the roar reverberating off the high ceiling.
The smells of seasoned food assaulted Dominy’s nostrils. “I-I’m a worm, not a Provisioner and—”
“Hey, I recognize you. You’re the outsider from that Debate.” Smirker stood, centimeters from Dominy, and stared intently, slowly raising his chin.
Dominy balled his fists.
Smirker leaned in and whispered, “I’m ascending to you.”
Someone dropped eating utensils, sending them clattering off a plate. Dominy raised his hands to chin level.
Smirker chuckled. “A custom here. By looking into someone’s eyes, you show respect for who they are now. The rising motion shows respect for who they’d become in the future.” Smirker looked around the cafeteria. “It might keep you out of trouble. Oh, and Shalene doesn’t sit with us anymore.”
Dominy released the tension in his hands and turned to leave. He snapped back around and ascended to Smirker. Several times.
He reconvened with the rest of the search team at the back of the cafeteria. Genna and Nalton shook their heads. Genna flipped her hair in the direction of Dominy. “What’s with your Shalene obsession anyway?”
“Jealous?” Nalton changed his voice to a monotone. “We Aspirians must control our emotions.”
Genna kicked Nalton in the shin. “Don’t worry, worms don’t bleed.” She turned and walked away.
Nalton rubbed his shin. “Time for me to lightout, too.” He hobbled along, trailing Genna.
“Lightout?” Dominy called out.
Nalton turned his head. “Leave. At the speed of light.”
A bell rang. The Thirds, sitting on the second floor, clambered out of their chairs. Dominy bolted for the stairs. I figured it out. Sergian must have summoned Shalene at that Debate in order to promote her to Thirds. He bounded up the spiral staircase.
At the landing, he raised up on his toes and raced around the terrace, searching for Shalene while ascending every few moments. No signs. Maybe as a Third she had a different meal schedule.
In the back of the terrace, a gathe
ring of Thirds stood to leave. Maybe they would know.
“Excuse me, I—”
One stopped and turned. “You? You can’t be up here.”
The young man was large like the other Thirds, but his hair was shaved short, revealing a large, freckled forehead. Vernan? The Debate loser was a Third, too? Should I point out Vernan’s errors? Probably not.
Vernan held up his hand. “Get out of here, Lucky One.”
The L word. Dominy clenched his teeth. Calm. “But I desperately need to find Shalene.”
“Shalene? Disappear!”
“Okay, okay, I’m going.”
The rest of the Thirds snickered and pointed at Vernan.
Maybe they were laughing because Vernan lost to me, a worm. Dominy ascended to Vernan with a crisp flick of his head. “Help me and I’ll make it worthwhile to you.” He gestured toward the chorus of Thirds. “You’re looking for redemption, right?”
Vernan put his hands on his hips. “And…?”
Dominy patted down his mess of hair. “I give you a rematch—any subject you choose—and you help me find Shalene.”
Vernan started to leave. His eyes lit. He seemed to stare right through Dominy. “Deal. But let’s compete when it really counts. The Aspirian Games.”
“The Games? I don’t know about that.”
“Music Composition.”
Dominy grinned. Maybe I am the Lucky One.
Vernan stepped in too close. “Agree?”
Water crystals clinked in the background. “I-I guess so.”
“Done.” Vernan jabbed his forefinger straight for Dominy’s eye. At the last moment his finger veered off to the side of his head. “There she is.”
“Water?”
Dominy turned and squinted into a burst of sunlight coming through a terrace window. He did a double take at the girl in the apron. The Provisioner dropped her water pitcher. They both sank to their knees, he with a napkin and she, a utility towel. “You’re … no, impossible.” But it wasn’t impossible. He could never forget that face, those colorless eyes. “Uh, Shalene?”
After mopping up the mess, they both rose. “Water?” she asked again.
“It’s me.” Dominy winked and spread his arms. “Don’t you remember, at that Debate? What happened to you?” The Thirds commented on the commotion, but Dominy couldn’t comprehend their words. They left.
Shalene’s eyes softened, offering a hint of recognition. “I can’t talk about that.”
Dominy inhaled the cinnamon-scented air wafting through the terrace. The familiar smell unnerved him. “The thing is, you remind me of my sister.”
“And the inference is?”
“I know illogical, right? He swiped his eyes with his sleeve. “I miss her. I worry about her and then I worried about you after you ran off.”
The once-confident genius looked around suspiciously, dropped to her knees, and pulled his hand to join her. She pretended to wipe the floor and whispered, “The Commonwealth contacted me. Someone wants me shipped out. They didn’t tell me why, so I tried to deduce a rationale. I isolated two factors that made me different. I was an outsider and I was winning. I was the top performer. That’s why after I found out you were an outsider, I warned you the way I did.”
Nearby, chairs scraped against the terrace’s marble floor. Shalene and Dominy crawled under the tablecloth.
“But I was wrong. I found out the truth after appealing to leadership. I’ve been accused of committing a transgression.” She shook her head and whispered in his ear, “Benefiting from favoritism.”
“Favoritism?”
“Shh. Supposedly, Everlen’s my Grandfather. But even if that were true, they have no evidence of my gaining from the relationship. Something irrational is happening. Anyway, Sergian’s going to review my case. Based on empirical observations, I’ve concluded he’s a fair man.” She thumbed her apron pocket. “Until then, I’m a Provisioner.”
Dominy bowed his head.
She patted his shoulder, touching him for the first time. “I’ll survive, I love it here, everyone does.”
“Where does the Commonwealth want to send you?”
“Home, I assume. But I can’t go back to that world. I won’t survive, it’s under—” Her notepad flashed. She stared at Dominy. “Sergian, he needs to see me, posthaste.”
Chapter Six
The warning bell’s three notes rang. Standing in the center of the classroom, Dominy shut his eyes and recreated the three arpeggiated notes in his mind. Ah, pitch: G major. The pleasant chord put a smile on his face, his first since tracking down Shalene. He just found out he was assigned his own master. He hadn’t met Petrece yet, but he was about to see her in action. She was leading this class: orientation for the outsiders—and his first official test. He yawned. Two all-nighters, back to back, and he was ready to get off probation.
The room was nondescript, from its cloud-gray bare walls to the purely functional furnishings. The only oddities were the ten-meter-high ceiling and an array of twenty-four chairs, only eight of which had nameplates. Dominy spotted his chair next to Nalton’s. Second row, ugh.
Where’s Genna? There, front row. His breathing turned shallow, and his head seemed to float above his shoulders. Strange. A good strange.
Nalton leaned over. “By the way, how’s that working out for you, you and Genna?”
“Encouraging, for sure.” I think.
Petrece entered the back door and ambled up a middle aisle. Her hair swayed in easy rhythm with her steps. In fact, everything about her, the relaxed shoulders and the softness of her face, suggested she didn’t have a care in the galaxy.
Nalton whispered to Dominy, “Your master’s brilliant: scientist, game theorist, the council. Everything.”
She strolled forward, and the others broke into spontaneous applause and fluttered their fingers—a hero’s welcome for an Aspirian star.
Genna raised her arms like an orchestra conductor. “Everyone, ascend.”
“Thank you.” Petrece motioned the students to sit and they plunked down in their special seats. Each metal alloy chair was attached to a desk with a built-in monitor for test taking. Dominy squirmed. The monitor also transmitted test data to leadership.
At the head of the classroom, Petrece stepped to a stage and stood at a podium. “Today is orientation for outsiders. Based on your testing, you’ve all been selected to attend the academy. Congratulations, and welcome to Aspiria.” She stepped out in front of the podium. “Aspiria, where leadership, the triumvirate, has provided generations of wise decisions.”
Dominy nodded, silently reciting words from the Codebook. Never a war or even a political conflict.
“Where masters have guided students to new heights of academic achievement.”
Never a down year in test scores.
“Where missionaries have fostered peace throughout the galaxy.”
Never a failed mission.
“Where researchers have provided scientific and medical breakthroughs for the benefit of all colonized worlds. Where, generations ago, intensive competition was identified as the key to progress leading to…” She held out her hands. “Everybody, say it with me.”
“The Meritocracy!”
“You are all now Aspirians and as such will be treated no different from native-borns. However, we have a new program for outsiders. Everlen saw something special in each of you. This is his pet project.”
The students cheered.
“Now, with that formality over, everyone stand. No doubt, you’re nervous. I know your situation. You see, I was an outsider too, one of the first to arrive at Aspiria. You probably miss your families.” Petrece stretched her large arms. “Come on up to the stage, one by one. Everyone should experience the arms of a mother.”
Dominy stood next to his chair and rocked back and forth. His own mother was most definitely not a hugger. Back home, Dominy’s lab partner and best friend Kevlin called his father the Automaton and his mother the Auto-matron. I’m j
oking, Kev would say. But no one ever laughed.
Petrece smiled. “You’ll find my personality different from most here.”
When it was his turn, Dominy dashed over and hurtled onto the stage. The other outsiders laughed. Stay calm.
“You mouthed words from the Codebook.” Petrece touched his shoulder. “Did you memorize it?”
“Yes, Master.”
“And you’re adjusting to the academy?”
“Yes, Master.”
“You seem at a loss for words. Speak freely.”
“Yes, Master. Sorry, I mean I’ve been indoctrinated in Aspirian history, and I’m trying to abide by the old saying: If a student talks for one minute, he should let his master talk for five.” He smiled. “It’s difficult.”
“Ah, Scripture.” She laughed and hugged him. He started back to his chair, turned around and came back for one more embrace.
Cal joined Petrece on stage. He raised his voice and nodded in Dominy’s direction. “Master, aren’t certain people tempted, sooner or later, to be untruthful?”
The class turned to Dominy. His heart pounded. His face was on fire.
“Telling the truth is like drinking water. We do it all the time, not because it always tastes pleasant, but because it sustains life.” Petrece gazed at the back door, bobbing her head as if expecting someone. “I’ll quote from Scripture, ‘Aspiria exalts the mind and cherishes, above all else, that which is true, good, and beautiful.’ The truth is at the forefront of that Scripture for a reason.” She seemed to stare into the eyes of each student. “Not telling the truth, misappropriating intellectual property—any transgression striking at the heart of our principles, well, you all know the ramifications.”
They leave Aspiria. Dominy glared at his classmates. I did not lie!
She motioned the students back to their chairs. “Each of you is assigned your own master.” She sauntered over to Dominy and patted his forearm. “But if you need anything, ever, I’m here for you. Oh, and remember: I’m different. Don’t get used to this.”
Aspiria Rising Page 3
