The Academy

by Zachary Rawlins

  “Well, as a matter of fact,” Vivik said, smiling nervously, “it seems that pretty much everyone knows that you are starting class tomorrow, Alex. Most of them heard about it a couple weeks ago, after you were evaluated and graded. That you spent the last three weeks in seclusion, training one-on-one with Michael just added to the mystique, I think.”

  Alex groaned.

  “It’s not so bad, Alex. A bunch of the girls want to meet you,” Vivik offered helpfully.

  “Yeah?” Alex tried to make sure his voice sounded nonchalant, but he wasn’t sure how successful he was, based on Vivik’s sly smile. “Why would that be?”

  “Please. You can’t be serious.” Vivik did a double-take. “Wait. Are you serious?”

  “Yeah,” Alex said, nodding as best he could. “I don’t get it. Whatever it is.”

  Vivik sat back in the chair and crossed his legs, looking very much like he was planning on staying. Alex was a little annoyed at this, but he’d realized a few days before that knowing Vivik meant putting up with his somewhat deficient respect for personal space, so he let it go.

  “I heard about you the first time while you were still in the infirmary,” Vivik said, clearly relishing the opportunity to tell the story. Alex got the distinct feeling that Vivik didn’t get the chance to talk to people much. “Some guys were saying that they’d found you in L.A. somewhere, that Mitsuru brought you back after a big fight with the Weir. They also said that you were some sort of anomaly, an M-class, and that you were capable of some kind of unique protocol, something that no one had been able to do before – and that all the cartels were interested in you. And that you were going to be in our class.”

  Alex perked up a bit, despite himself. It couldn’t hurt to know a bit more about what he was getting into.

  “Of course, they also said you were big and tough and cool-looking,” Vivik said, smirking. “So they got that part wrong. But things had been quiet around here for a while, and when things get quiet, people start to tell stories. I figured that this was more of the same, and that you’d show up in class eventually and turn out to be just like everyone else here. But when I walked into the cafeteria that morning, Alex, half the empaths and Anastasia had rushed back home!”

  Vivik paused for reaction, and then shook his head when Alex continued to stare blankly.

  “God, you still don’t know anything? What is Michael teaching you, anyway?”

  “How to hit stuff.”

  “Great. That should come in handy when you run out of things to say,” Vivik said, rolling his eyes. “They were the important people, Alex, the whole future leadership of the various cartels. They’d been brought back home in a hurry, to get instructions – instructions about you.”

  “Am I in some kind of danger?” Alex asked, puzzled.

  Vivik gave Alex a pitying look.

  “Only of being wined and dined,” Vivik said with a hint of scorn. “They don’t want to hurt you, Alex, they want to recruit you. They brought back all those kids because they knew they would be your classmates, and therefore the people who would have the most contact with you, and the most likely to be your friends.”

  “That’s kind of creepy,” Alex observed, stretching out a yawn in the hopes it would serve as a polite suggestion.

  “You should get used to it,” Vivik said sternly. “Because it’s going to be that way until you give in and join one of them. Then everything is reversed.”

  “Wait, what?”

  Vivik sighed and stood up.

  “Everyone will love you as long as you are a free agent. As long as you stay undecided, everyone in Central will fall all over themselves to help you out. So you had better be prepared for that,” Vivik admonished. “But you need to be ready for what happens after you commit. Because as desperate as the cartels are to get their hands on you, Alex, they will be even more desperate to make sure that no one else does. You need to be ready for it, because it’s going to be weird. At first everyone will be your ally, your confidant, your friend and potential lover, but you won’t be able to trust any of them. And then one day, inevitably, the tables will turn on you, and then suddenly all of these people who have cared for you and been close to you, well, they will turn on you. I see things, Alex. I’m a remote viewer. Does that make any sense?”

  Vivik waited for a response, but Alex said nothing, his eyes hidden behind his folded hands. After a moment, Vivik stood up, pushed the chair in quietly, shook his head at the sleeping boy, and left the room, closing the door silently behind him.

  Fourteen

  “You seem disappointed,” Vivik observed, leading him along a cement path through spindly birch trees, a small creek gurgling beside the walkway.

  Alex blinked uncomfortably as the sun broke the through the leaves. It was bright out, and no one had thought to grab his sunglasses from the trailer. Alex walked with his hands balled up in his pockets, shoulders hunched in the unfamiliar blazer. The uniform still felt weird to him, even if everyone around him was wearing a variation on it.

  “I was hoping the skirts would be shorter,” Alex mumbled, staring at a group of teenage girls sitting by the creek side. The wind carried the muffled sounds of their conversation and fragments of their laughter.

  “You watch too much anime,” Vivik grinned at him. “I think all uniform skirts are around the knee, no matter where you go. I did the British boarding school thing for a while, you know. Much worse. All guys.”

  Despite the sun, Alex was enjoying the walk. The campus was beautiful, and the Indian kid was friendly, something that Alex was still trying to adjust to. Michael had told him that his record had been wiped completely when he was admitted to the Academy – a fresh start, as he had put it. He’d even offered Alex the opportunity to change his name, and he entertained the thought briefly, but couldn’t see learning to respond to something else. Michael had warned him that the wipe wasn’t absolute, that if someone had the time, inclination and resources that they could dig it up – but he’d also assured him that no one would care.

  That had seemed to be true, at least so far. Vivik hadn’t asked him any questions at all about his past. Rebecca had asked a few questions here and there, but she was the school councilor or something, so that was only natural. Anyway, Alex had to admit that Rebecca was almost impossible not to trust by her very nature, empathy be damned. Alex even felt like maybe Michael was someone he could trust a bit, that he was probably even learning to like. Alex smiled to himself. So that was three, already. Three potential friends. Three times the number that he’d had before… or, wait, did that make sense? If he’d had no friends before, then…

  Alex was so caught up thinking about this that he didn’t notice Vivik’s friendly chatter, pointing out interesting sites along their walk, and he didn’t notice when it stopped, either. Or that he was abruptly walking alone, Vivik having stopped in his tracks several feet back, with the rest of the people who were paying attention to what was going on around them. He didn’t even see Mitsuru until he’d practically walked into her.

  He managed to stop in time, a step away from colliding with her. She stood in the sidewalk, arms folded in front of her. The uniform she wore was superficially similar to his, but with a black blazer, rather than blue, and with a completely different patch on her breast pocket. The last time he’d seen her, her hair had been tied back, and now that it was down, he was surprised at how long it was, hanging almost to her waist, silken black and utterly straight. She looked at him emotionlessly with her unnerving red eyes.

  “Boy,” she said softly, “you should learn to watch where you are going. It seems to be a reoccurring problem.”

  Alex recognized her immediately, of course – the list of people who’d saved his life recently was pretty short, and there weren’t too many attractive ladies with crimson eyes on it.

  “Oh,” he managed, trying to collect himself, “I think that, um, I think I owe you a thank you, for, well, you know.”

  Panicked at her
blank expression, his stuck his hand out.

  “My name is Alex,” he said, his voice suddenly ridiculously small and squeaky. “Thank you for helping me.”

  If Mitsuru had any opinions on the matter, her face gave Alex no clue of it. She continued to stare placidly at him. Eventually, he let his hand drop to his side. As Alex tried desperately to think of something to say, his cheeks reddened under Mitsuru’s impassive eyes. When he heard Vivik hurry up next to him, he felt profound gratitude for the intervention.

  “Miss Aoki,” Vivik said apologetically, “good morning. Have you met Alex already? Today is his first day.”

  Mitsuru gave Vivik a small nod, her eyes never leaving Alex.

  “I’ll see you on the seventeenth, boy,” she said, abruptly striding past them, heading back the way they’d come. Alex couldn’t help but watch her walk away. She looked better in a skirt.

  “What the hell was that?” Vivik wondered. “You already know her, Alex?”

  “Sort of,” Alex admitted, shakily resuming his walk to class, trying not to notice that people were staring and whispering.

  “And what’s with seventeenth?” Vivik asked with a huge, mischievous grin. “You haven’t even been to class yet and you already have faculty asking you out?”

  Alex felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He dragged the repeatedly folded class schedule from his jacket pocket, and looked at it grimly.

  “Oh man,” he said softly. “Fuck me. The seventeenth is the first day of the ‘Applied Combat Fundamentals’ workshop, seven in the A.M. I am so dead.”

  Vivik nodded, and slapped Alex companionably on the shoulder.

  “’Fraid so,” he said cheerfully. “Miss Aoki has quite the reputation…”

  “For what?”

  Vivik lowered his voice, and looked seriously at Alex.

  “I heard she’s a psycho,” Vivik confided, glancing around suspiciously to make sure no one was walking near enough to them to hear. “I heard that she killed another Operator, a while ago, and so they kept her locked up or something for a long time. She’s supposed to be like a hundred years old…”

  Alex looked at Vivik skeptically.

  “She’s supposed to be what?” he scoffed. “There is no way she’s a hundred years old.”

  “You can’t rely on looks to make that kind of determination here, Alex. Lots of Operators can control their appearance, or slow down their aging process,” Vivik explained patiently. “It’s probably a bit much to try and absorb all at once.”

  Alex just shook his head.

  “Man, she’s not a hundred years old…”

  “Yeah, okay,” Vivik admitted. “You’re probably right about that.”

  “Here we are,” Vivik said, pointing to a four story building made from the same monotonous slate grey stone is everything else, set back in a stand of middle-aged oak trees. The creek burbled nearby, detailing a gentle curve around one side of the building, and then disappeared into an underground channel. On the other side of the building there was a large grassy field, vivid green under the bright sun.

  “This is much nicer than Bakersfield,” Alex said to Vivik, grinning.

  “I’d hope so. I’ve been to Bakersfield once,” Vivik said, with a laugh. “Come on, let’s get moving, we’re gonna be late.”

  Vivik used his swipe card to open the door, and then led Alex up a flight of stairs to the second story. The interior of the building was cool and airy, with polarized glass in the windows and buff-colored tile flooring. There seemed to be four classrooms on the floor, but Alex only saw students crowded at the doors of two of them. Inside the nearer one, it was a typical lecture hall – three rows of seats with attached writing desks in a half-circle around a raised dais and podium, with muted grey carpeting and a bank of fluorescent lights overhead. Behind the podium, there was a chalkboard and white board, flanked by a table with a laptop, projector and a tangled mass of cables.

  Most of the class had already arrived, and Alex seemed to feel every eye in the room migrate to him as he and Vivik entered. The students were lounging around the room in small groups, talking in low voices – clearly cliques had already been formed and social rankings established. Alex knew with an iron-clad certainty that he was going to be a very-odd man out.

  As Vivik led him to a seat near the center of the room, Alex’s anxiety worsened. Vivik had greeted a couple of students with nods on the way in, but no one had spoken to either of them, and Vivik clearly intended for them to sit by themselves. It dawned on Alex that it was very likely that the person Michael had picked to help Alex assimilate had not, in fact, made any friends himself. Alex resolved to have a serious discussion with Michael on this issue, as soon as he got enough nerve to.

  Alex was so gloomy over his social prospects, sitting beside the now silent Vivik in the padded plastic seats, that he almost didn’t notice the blond girl until she was standing directly in front of them.

  She was slender and tall, almost as tall as Alex, with long blond hair teased into curls and brilliant green eyes. She wore the same uniform as everyone else, but she it looked nicer on her, Alex thought. Quite a bit better.

  “Are you going to introduce me to your friend, Vivik, or are you planning on keeping him all to yourself?” She leaned down as she talked, looking at Alex with a playful smile. “So unfair.”

  “Not at all,” Vivik sputtered. “I simply haven’t had an opportunity to introduce you, yet.”

  “You have one now,” she said sweetly, still looking at Alex.

  “Alex, this is Emily Muir. Emily, this is Alex Warner.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Alex,” Emily said, holding out one hand to him.

  “Pleased to meet you, Miss Muir,” Alex said, wincing. He hadn’t ever, in his memory, referred to a girl his own age as ‘Miss’, and couldn’t imagine why he’d picked now to start. The hand he shook was smooth-skinned, soft, and recently manicured. Alex wondered if she was wealthy or just very concerned with appearances.

  “Emily,” she corrected, her smile revealing perfect teeth. “I have to admit that I’d heard you were joining our class today. I think most people here have already heard some version of the story.”

  “What story is that?” Alex asked.

  Emily’s grin widened, and she sat down next to Alex.

  “Well, one version I’ve heard is that you helped Mitsuru fight a whole pack of Weir,” she offered cheerfully, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger.

  “W-What?” Alex gasped. “You’ve got to be kidding me! That definitely did not happen.”

  “I didn’t think it was very likely,” she said, winking at him from beneath immaculately styled bangs. “You don’t look the type. Another version I heard was that Mitsuru saved you from being eaten by the Weir.”

  “I think that’s probably closer to the truth,” Vivik offered.

  “Whose side are you on, here?” Alex complained. “Seriously, though, she did save me. It was a one-woman show. I didn’t do anything except fall down and bleed.”

  “Oh, you poor thing!” Emily laughed. “So, what was scarier – the Weir, or Mitsuru?”

  “Well…” Alex began doubtfully, only to be cut off by the arrival at the podium of what could only be the professor.

  He was older, grey haired and slightly disheveled, with several days’ worth of stubble on his chin and a somewhat outdated wool jacket, the same insignia on his breast pocket that Alex had seen on Mitsuru’s blazer. He had a gigantic stack of books that he carried piled precariously on his outstretched arms, while the corners of even more jutted out from the leather messenger’s bag he had slung over one shoulder. As he passed by Alex, he left a wake of pipe tobacco.

  “Come to order, people,” he said in a crisp British accent, piling the books on a table to one side of the podium. “Let’s find seats. We have much to do today…”

  Emily put down her shoulder bag and started digging through it.

  “You don’t mind if I sit here?”
She asked innocently.

  Alex shook his head more emphatically than he had intended.

  “Please, by all means…” he said, ignoring Vivik’s amused snort.

  “Alright, alright,” said the teacher, motioning for the class to be quiet. “That’s enough people. We have a new student, today – Alex Warner, could you stand up please?”

  Alex stood up hurriedly, bashing his shin against the seatback in front of him in the process. He did his best to act like it didn’t hurt.

  “Thank you,” the teacher nodded at him. “I am Mr. Windsor. These sixteen fine young men and women will be your classmates for the duration of this lecture course. Duration defined, of course, by your own individual performance.”

  Windsor motioned for Alex to sit down.

  “Very well,” he continued on, “we have much to cover this session, in order to keep this class on pace, and we must find some way to accommodate our newest member as well. Mr. Warner is some weeks behind, and will need assistance to get caught up. I believe, ah, yes... Ms. Muir?”

  “Yes, Mr. Windsor?” Emily asked demurely, still looking down at the notebook in front of her.

  “Would you mind helping our new student for today?” Mr. Windsor powered up the projector next to him. “If you could introduce him to his classmates, during break, and help him through the material, that would be very helpful. I would imagine he would need to share your textbook…”

  “Of course, Mr. Windsor,” Emily said cheerfully, sliding her textbook over so that Alex could see it, too.

  A general muttering spread through the class, but it was quieted by a glance from Mr. Windsor. Alex noticed a black-haired girl looking back at them, one row down and several seats over, glowering at Emily, and looking a bit too young to be in the same class as him. When she noticed Alex looking at her, she shook her head solemnly, and then turned her attention to the notebook in front of her.