by Paris Singer
Looking up, I saw him furiously typing in commands on his panel, which suggested he felt under pressure. My imminent victory was signaled by the sound of One’s fist pounding down hard on his station. Just then, however, he furiously typed again with renewed energy as if a new strategy had occurred to him. A moment later, a message appeared on the top-left portion of my display, which read, Remember: accidents do happen.
At the sight of these words, my face sank and my heart dropped to my stomach. I couldn’t believe One would stoop so low as to threaten me and my friends over a stupid simulation battle. I knew, however, that he could be dangerous, so I had no choice but to take him seriously. A sick feeling suddenly came over me as my heart beat faster and beads of sweat formed around my forehead and brow. A new level of hatred was born inside me as I watched him systematically destroy every single of my vessels before my eyes. Looking across at him once again, I could almost feel the glee radiating from him as he did so.
For the second time in two days, I felt as helpless as a new-born. I clenched my fists as sheer frustration and anger caused hot tears to gather around my eyes.
Moments later, Ms. Photuris’ voice sounded in my mind, Time is up, my children, prompting me to quickly wipe my tears away before they could be noticed. As always, she continued, your results and statistics have been recorded and will be sent to you so you may analyze them. Number 7, would you care to explain your irrational decision?
I felt all the eyes in the room simultaneously turn to look at me. As yet more beads of sweat rolled down my face, I struggled to find words that would satisfy the teacher. Her large black eyes were fixed unblinkingly toward me, as if she tried to delve inside my mind to read my thoughts.
The pressure built with every passing moment I remained silent until I finally blurted, “I barely slept last night. Guess I just lost focus toward the end.” I hoped that would be a good enough explanation to appease Ms. Photuris’ curiosity.
The invertebrate teacher remained silent for a moment, then addressing the class, said, In times of war, it is important to remember where your alliances truly lie, my children. Choose them wisely, for your decisions may affect the fates of nations. If in your minds and hearts you elect to protect the close few, you may unwittingly damn the many. Resuming her position behind her station, she announced, This class has now concluded, my children. You may go. Student Number 1, remain behind. I wish to speak with you.
As the students filed out to hushed whispers, I tried to leave the classroom as slowly as possible, so as to overhear Ms. Photuris’ lecture to One. Once I reached the door, however, I could hear no voices—in my mind or behind me. I stepped through the threshold and looked quickly back just in time to see them both silently staring at me before the door swooshed shut. Walking off to my next class, I couldn’t shake the ominous feeling I’d received at seeing One and Ms. Photuris motionlessly gazing at me like that.
I supposed they’d waited for me to leave so she could speak privately and discreetly with One, but that explanation somehow didn’t sit right in my mind, even if I couldn’t think of any other reason. I spent the next two lessons trying to shake my thoughts loose of the persistent feeling that something was wrong enough to focus on what was being taught.
When lunch finally came, my nose was led along the long, white halls and into the canteen where most of the academy was steadily gathering. Everywhere I looked it was alive with the ceaseless movements of students and teachers alike as their chatter, songs, chirps, clicks, and whistles filled the entirety of the room. This was the place where virtually every species aboard the Sky Drifter came together under a single roof. A one meter high steel counter ran the length of the canteen, separating the dining area from the elaborate and busy cooking area, which took up around a third of the room.
There, a team of twenty chefs from various planets within the known universe were gathered to create some of the most delicious and aesthetically diverse cuisine imaginable. Each was a master of the wide complexities and intricate balances of flavours so to bring culinary harmony to each and every one of their dishes.
Despite my tastes largely being limited to those of my native planet, I couldn’t help but be tempted by the sheer array of the appealing beauty and odour of dishes being offered. Weaving through the crowds, I found my way to a table toward the back where Iris and Pi sat. In front of Pi, there stood a stack of empty plates and bowls higher than him.
“Man, hungry today much?” I asked him teasingly, still impressed he could so easily fit so much food inside his stomach.
“A little,” replied Pi coolly as he worked a toothpick around his mouth with his lips. Slowly raising part of his brow above one of his sleepy eyes, he asked, “What’s up, bro?”
“Nothing much,” I began as I sat on a chair between him and Iris. I wanted to lock away and put aside the previous night’s incident with One and his Morex goons, not only for my own sake, but because I didn’t like hiding anything from them. “Just got beaten by No Face at Strategy,” I stated casually with a slight hint of sullenness. I’d been so impressed by Pi’s tower of dishes I hadn’t noticed Iris wasn’t immersed in her Equinox, but sat up, enjoying a bowl of something that resembled green noodles with small, silver balls mixed in with them.
“I bet he loved that,” he said with an air of sarcasm. “Sorry, buddy.”
“Hey,” I said, leaning closer and lowering my voice, “what’s with Iris? Why isn’t she playing?”
“I can hear you, you know.”
As though suddenly hit by a burst of electricity, I jerked in my seat as my every muscle seemed to contract. I turned my head toward Iris, wearing the widest grin I could muster as beads of sweat formed around my brow. It wasn’t that I was afraid of her. It wasn’t. I was just very aware of the physical pain she could readily inflict should she feel as if she’d been offended. No metal ball had yet been invented that could hit me with such force during a game of Sphere which would compare with one of Iris’ full-out punches to the ribs.
I hadn’t been entirely certain she could hear me, used as I was to her being deaf to the world beyond the Equinox screen, but with the piercing look she gave me being sharper than any blade, any doubt I may have had about it vanished in an instant.
“Oh, hi, Iris. I didn’t think you could hear me,” I said semi-nervously, scratching the back of my head.
Iris’ eyes changed, giving me a look of concern I hadn’t expected as she pushed her bowl aside and then folded her arms on the table in front of her. She shot a look at Pi, who briefly returned it.
“What’s going on?” I tentatively asked, worried I might not like their answer.
My question was met with a long, theatrical sigh from Pi. With one eye closed, he looked at Iris again, and said, “You want to start? You’re better at these things.”
Convinced now that I wouldn’t want to hear what they had to say, I turned my head from side to side as if doing so would elicit an instant answer from their faces. Half-impatient, half-hesitant, I repeated, “What’s going on?”
My answer came from Iris, who, in a very matter-of-factly tone, began, “That’s what we’d like to know. What’s with you lately? For the last couple of days, you’ve been acting strangely, asking strange questions. First, you freak out during the trip, accusing me of being weird, then you tell Pi that everyone in your class smiled at you?”
I shot a glance at Pi, who bared his teeth in an awkward smile, before turning my head back to Iris as she continued.
“Why would they all smile at you? You’re not that nice,” she concluded, raising an eyebrow sardonically. I opened my mouth to answer when Iris suddenly added, “And then there was this morning.”
“This morning?” I repeated, searching my mind for what I may have said that Iris could have considered unusual.
When I looked at her blankly, she rolled her eyes, and elaborated, “You were awake on time! You’ve never been awake when I’ve banged on your door. That’s why I bang on it
!”
I looked down, away from her, to think more clearly. I should have known better than to open the door so early, ready to go. Inquisitive as she was, consequent questioning had been imminent. Looking back, I guessed I just couldn’t resist the thought of the look she’d have on her face upon seeing me bright-eyed and ready to go.
“Well?” she snapped, jarring me back into the conversation.
“They did all smile at me,” I replied, feeling slightly reproachful. “Why would I make anything like that up? I don’t know why it happened, but that’s exactly what they did.”
“So, you expect me to believe that—”
“I don’t expect you to believe anything,” I snapped, looking at them sternly, “but I hoped that, as my supposed best friends, you’d at least give me the benefit of the doubt.” Pi and Iris were now doing their best to avoid eye contact with me, as the severity of my tone still echoed in my mind. I didn’t want to aggravate the situation further, so I took a deep breath to relax and then continued in a softer tone. “I told Pi exactly what had happened moments after it did. If he’d been there, he would have seen it himself, but—”
“He wasn’t,” stated Iris, sharply.
I looked down at my lap, feeling the anger inside me overflow.
Suddenly, Pi spoke in a voice that was as passive and diplomatic as I’d ever heard it, “Dude, you do have to admit it is a little weird. We’re not calling you a liar or anything, though, just sayin’ it’s weird. Right, Iris?”
The expression on her face suggested great restraint as she simply replied, “Right.” All of a sudden, however, as though the cork keeping her impulsiveness contained had suddenly popped out, she blurted, “And what about the trip? You were acting really oddly, Seven.”
“Iris,” I began, knowing I wouldn’t be able to offer any type of explanation as to what had happened to them all if she asked, “it’s as I told you. The Brattean mutated right there in front of you, and you all acted as if it were perfectly normal, like it wasn’t happening. Even as it destroyed things around itself, it took you ages to react to it. Again, what possible reason would I have to make something like that up? Especially in front of everyone?”
“That’s crazy!” Iris exclaimed. “Why would we—why would I—do something like that? Pi coughed softly, and upon glancing at him, she sighed exasperatedly, and said, “I believe you.”
“You do?” I asked, raising an eyebrow, doubting the sincerity of her words.
“Yes,” she reaffirmed under her breath. “Even if I don’t understand what happened…you’re not a liar. Maybe you saw something I didn’t, or maybe our senses were altered somehow. Anyway, I do believe you, or, at least, I want to.”
“Well, that’s something, I guess,” I replied, knowing that’d be the most Iris would concede. “Thanks.”
“Same goes for me, buddy,” added Pi assuredly.
I turned to face him as I smiled. Something about his passive detachment made me feel better, as if nothing really mattered. That it was all as it’d always been. “I appreciate it.” I nodded.
“Seven,” Iris’ tone was graver than it’d been, and as I turned to face her again, I saw a reassuring look fill her eyes. “You know we’re here for you, don’t you? For anything you need.”
I was already formulating a smart-ass reply to her cheesy comment with an eye-roll at the ready when Pi leaned forward, and said, “Yeah, dude, you can tell us anything. That’s what bros are for.”
I alternated looking left to right to left as I wondered what had suddenly come over them. It felt as though I’d stumbled into a surprise intervention.
“What’s with you two?” I asked sceptically.
“We just wanted to remind you that you’re not alone, Seven. That we’re here for you for whatever you need.”
“Yeah, bro,” added Pi. “If there’s ever anything you want to get off your chest—anything at all—our ears are always open.”
“Um, thanks, guys,” I replied, perplexed by their sudden renewed affirmation of our friendship.
“If I ever have something on my mind, I’ll let you know.”
Their reminder that they were there for me, as I was for them, made me feel a twinge of guilt at omitting to tell them about One and his goons’ ambush the previous evening. As much as I did want to tell them, it being something that I would usually have done, I still couldn’t allow myself to undermine One’s threat. Especially now that I’d experienced first-hand what he was capable of. And his eye. Something about it had suggested a deep-set malevolence, as deep as any all-destroying black hole. Even if he’d meant it as nothing more than an empty threat, his burning eye was enough to persuade me to err on the side of caution.
Despite my assurances that should anything worthy of discussion arise I wouldn’t hesitate to talk to them about it, for the remainder of lunch they seemed to shoot me looks of restrained frustration, as if they were desperate to say or add something but couldn’t. They made me think of artists, who, having added the very last brush stroke to a finished painting, tortured themselves by wondering whether an extra one would bring it to perfection.
After lunch ended, Iris and Pi went to their classes and I to mine. We didn’t have any more time together that day, and I couldn’t meet up with them later due to my Advanced Strategy class, so the likelihood was that the next time I saw them would be the following day.
Once the final announcement sounded, indicating the end of classes, I headed from the third floor where my last class had taken place to the elevator next to the main stairs in the center of the building. Inside, I pressed the pad on the side panel, which had a glowing blue “7” on it. The last floor was usually out of bounds, as that was where teachers liked to spend their free time without the daily hassle of students around them.
From what I’d seen, they liked doing one thing—hanging out inside the teacher’s lounge, which, more than a mere room, was an all-out, multiple purpose space the likes of which extended the length and width of four classrooms. I’d only had the opportunity to glimpse inside it once when one of the teachers had accidentally left the door wide open as she’d rushed out, her many arms flailing, no doubt late for a class.
What I saw would make students with weaker temperaments weep. Immediately ahead of me was a large, square area separated by a clear, protective field, which encased it. Inside, one of the more Simianoid teachers, Miss Tarandon, was vigorously hitting a small, cylindrical yellow light sphere back and forth against a light brown wall. She sported a dark gray body suit, except on her right hand where she’d fitted a thick, black glove, which she used to hit the small whizzing sphere.
Taking a single step inside and craning my neck to the right, the rest of the teacher’s lounge was revealed to me. In the very center, there appeared to be a circular bar with an automated service barman happily cleaning glasses behind it. North and east of the bar were comfortable, plush sofas and armchairs, in front of which small, glass rectangular tables stood.
To my surprise, and admittedly jealousy, south of the bar was a 4D game zone where Mr. Esca and another teacher I hadn’t seen before played what I guessed had to be an action game, judging by the guns and heavy-duty rifles they carried. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I would never have believed Mr. Esca to be the trigger-happy maniac he appeared to be.
The teacher’s lounge was evidently aimed at catering to the diverse species of teachers aboard. On the back wall farthest from me there stood a large tank filled to the brim with clear liquid. I suspected it was H2O, but you never really knew just by looking. Inside, a couple of Natan teachers swam at speeds so great they became nothing but blurs, even as they effortlessly turned corners. The only way I was able to truly recognize who they were was when they stopped to chat with one another.
Natans were a race of aquatic species whose bodies couldn’t process the oxygen that filled the Sky Drifter. Consequently, they had to wear oval helmets with wide, clear visors filled with slightly murky green
liquid. Up until then, I’d always thought their eyes to be enormous, taking up most of the space given by the visor, but now I saw that they must have been greatly magnified by the glass visors of their helmets. In reality, their black eyes seemed to be only slightly larger than mine. Being able to take those bulky helmets off and swim around must be a nice break for them.
Similarly, next to the clear tank in the far corner was an area thick in vegetation. Dark greens, deep browns, and reds, and opaque yellows and purples landscaped the large, square area, leaving only marginal dark empty spaces like tears in a sheet. Amidst the dense floral wall, I could see some movement as branches and leaves were occasionally disturbed by its occupant or occupants, but as much as I looked, I couldn’t make out any definite shape or feature that would allow me to identify who was inside. Even so, I could imagine Mr. Sylva contently relaxing in his element.
The rest of the teacher’s lounge was peppered with a rich variety of common and exotic plants, most of which I hadn’t seen before, and seemed to have been strategically placed around to match their immediate surroundings. On either side of the sofas and armchairs, for example, thin trunks stood around a meter or so high, their many limbs ending in wide, fanning leaves. Their texture, which varied from black to brown, looked almost as if they were made entirely of leather. Each of the trunks and leaves swayed lightly to the soft background music in the room.
Around the tank vibrant green and deep red hollow weeds extended from the floor to halfway up it like leafy fingers stroking the container itself, as if in adoration of it.
Before I could fully take in the rest of the features of the lounge, from my immediate right came the teacher who, moments ago, had been shooting monsters with Mr. Esca. In fact, the heavy-duty rifle he’d been using was propped up on his shoulder as he gave me a look that suggested deep irritation that I’d dared look inside, just before the door swooshed shut in my face.
