Interstellar Academy, Kennedy Harkins [epub e ink reader TXT] 📗

none to give anyway. But we walked all the way north to apartment five together.

We entered the tube the same way we had before, floating and then vaulting ourselves into the room. Both the human and Kavi misjudged their catapult, and the girl crashed into the floor, the Animarian a chest of drawers. I turned away from the scene to hide my smile of satisfaction. My aunt was right; I wouldn’t have to deal with these two for long.

 

_____

 

September 3 (Monday):

A couple days after our first day on campus, I rolled out of bed just as the first of the lights came on outside our windows. Classes were starting, and I had to fit in an early conditioning. Unlike in the training center, my days would not be dominated with battle simulations and skill development. I shuddered to think about the look my mother would give me upon returning if I’d gotten soft.

The weightlessness the tube provided lifted my loose clothes slightly off my body. Upon my boots touching the damp grass, I set off at a run towards the arena. The smell of wildlife and steel coursed in and out of my nose. I focused on that and the feel of the patterned, uneven pavement beneath my feet as I pushed myself to reach the arena even faster than the day before.

Passing a statue of some great, philosophical Parvulian, I tightened my wings, bring them closer to my body. I wouldn’t be getting a lot of flying time, my schedule too rigorous, so it was important to do maintenance on the muscle groups.

In one of the rooms above the seating in the arena, my aunt had set up an obstacle course to excercise my wings and keep my technical fighting skills at peak. A lot of the latter involved an Earth sport called boxing and a punching bag. At first, I’d scoffed at the idea of hitting an inanimate object. Then, the bag started to dart across the room and shoot laser beams at me.

I activated the offense in the special room, letting all my thoughts flow from my mind until I was empty. This was one of my favorite parts of fighting. You just get to react, no thinking or feelings. You’re acting on a set of orders that has been burned into you. When they thrust forward you parry their attack. Simple. Easy. Freeing.

I wailed against the bag, doing heavy damage, until a round of beams sent my rolling away. I dodged them with quick, quick movements, getting a little closer the the target each time. I worked myself back to my opponent and repeated the process, running through a series of drills I’d long ago memorized.

By the time the hour was up, sweat was dripping off my skin like rain, and I was heaving. My muscles protested every movement, and I revelled in that feeling. At the training center, you weren’t going to get any praise, just confirmation that you were doing it right. This, the ache, is your standing ovation. Knowing I pushed my body to new lengths and would emerge stronger was a high that kept me looking forward to the next workout.

I didn’t run back to the apartment, cooling down. A couple blocks from number five, I heard shouting. I moved closer to the buildings, using the lingering shadows to mask my approach.

A couple of human boys, older than me, surround an AI. The robot was slightly bent over, body twitching in an obvious system malfunction.

“You just can’t find good help these days,” one of the boys sneered.

The other laughed and kicked at the machine. It toppled over, crashing to the ground with a horrible crunch. A faint tendril of steam rose off its circuitry. It started chanting, “How can I help you, sirs? How can-can-can I help you, siiiiiiiiiiiiiirrrsssss....”

Its eyes, which a moment ago had been alight with elaborate coding, cut to a desolate black. They were more empty than a solar system without stars or Tundris without skies.

I shook my head, backing away from the two destructive boys. It wasn’t any of my business how humans wanted to amuse themselves, though I wondered why they didn’t beat up people instead, like Tundrians did. There was little glory to be had in picking on a lesser, one reason why we hadn’t rushed into war with the Earthlings.

The campus began to come alive as I slipped back into apartment five. The anti-grav in our room was turned on, so I knew my roommates were awake. Floating through the door, I saw the Animarian glued to the ceiling like some kind of moving, green mold. He begged the human girl to turn on the gravity as he wiggled around.

The girl was hovering above her monstrous suitcase, a serious expression on her face, like a commander about to charge into battle. Her voice, however, was light when she spoke. “Now, Kavi, if I did that you’d just end up a pancake on the floor instead. Shush. I’m trying to pick out an outfit.”

The glided past them to where I’d stored my clothes and moved out of sight to pull on the required uniform. Luckily for Mae and I, since the rooming was co-ed, and we were stuck with a couple of dregs, there was a private bathroom.

As soon as I was done, Mae and I switched spots. She didn’t take any longer than I had, keeping her grooming to the minimum, something I suspected the human would have trouble with.

“Tech studies first?” Mae asked in a monotone, waiting for the other pair to quit goofing off and join us.

“Yes. I believe there’s a new teacher this year. A human.”

“Joy. Perhaps he’ll enlighten us in the ways of frivolous, overpriced technology.”

I had been schooled in the art of patience my entire life, but I couldn’t stop my foot from tapping with annoyance. I had to remind myself that she wouldn’t be here long, and, besides that, only freshmen were required to travel with their roommates to and from class. Next year, I’d be free to accompany Mae or walk by myself.

The girl emerged from the bathroom, finally. “Alright, aliens and cretans, let’s get a move on.”

She charged on in front of us, Kavi struggling to keep up. To my surprise, she was wearing her uniform, a silver bodysuit with the Academy crest on the chest. A little more to character, she wore a pair of nauseously pink boots and a jacket of the same color. There was also something strange hanging from her ears. It sparkled in the light and had spikes on the edges.

The letters that had been sent to our holos with important class information a few days ago had said that there was no formal Technology classroom. We were going to be a traveling class, taking field trips off-ship and around the campus to take things apart and watch how certain machines worked.

We were supposed to meet outside holo lab for the first day of class, so the four of us set off towards the east side of campus. The dome on top of the ship showed the inky abyss beyond it, but also glowed slightly, giving us the light and UV requirements we’d need.

A couple of students were already standing outside the block shapes building with no windows. The metal it consisted of had swirls and intricate designs not unlike the ones buzzed into the side of the girl’s hair. The few students that had arrived before us were in our grade, as the entire class would probably be, and were a mix of Tundrians and Syrenis. I even saw a pair, one from each of these species, standing off by themselves. My nose wrinkled in distaste.

When a group of forty or so had gathered, the door was open by a young, lanky human with old fashioned glasses. That was strange in itself, as there were few cases of bad eyesight serious enough that couldn’t be fixed with laser technology. The man, dark in complexion, also wore strange clothes, a formal suit the color of dead grass.

“Come in, class.” He opened the doors wide, and the crowd of students piles in. “My name’s Professor Talib. Take a seat--anywhere, doesn’t matter, you won’t be using the holos today.”

The room was filled with desks, all very plain, nothing to look at. Each desk sat two and had at least as many holos on it. There were computers of all different sizes, shapes, and uses scattered across the classroom. There were also tables that sported other tech as well. I spotted a laser printer, an expensive piece of machinery that cut into any kind of material you brought it. One of the teacher’s back at the training center had a tiny diamond that had been cut into the shape of a flower on his desk. It was one of my favorite examples of technology.

“Unfortunately, the first day is always boring-- I remember. I graduated from the Academy not too long ago--”

The human girl was sitting next to me, and I heard her whisper, “Like last week.”

“--so I’ve sat right where you’re sitting. Apart from tech related issues, I want you all to know that you can come to me. My door’s always open.”

That sounded like a security risk.

“Now, on to the not so fun stuff: the syllabus. Since you’re in your first year, we’ll be learning primarily about what’s inside the tech that we use everyday, what mechanisms make it work. Programing, building, designing, and such won’t come till you’re all a little older and have the basics down. Which, incidentally, is the name of the class. Basic Technology Studies. Fitting, right?

In class work will consist of tests and labs. Since we only meet three times week, you’ll be expected to do a heavy course load outside of class. That include reading, finishing labs, and-- cue the groans--group projects, for which you will not be choosing your partners. Get used to that part. Professor Earhart likes to mix up the population, and every teacher here would like to keep their job-- hence the group projects.”

I found his personal and friendly approach unnerving. It wasn’t how any teacher had spoken to me before. It set my teeth on edge, so I was glad when he let us go a couple minutes early, even though he gave us copious amounts of reading to do before the next class, on Wednesday. As he released us, he’d laughed and said to savor the sensation, because we’d never experience it again while aboard.

Usually, we’d have a bit of time before our second class: Life Studies. Today was an orientation day, however, and we weren’t doing any real work, just meeting with teachers. Life Studies, a miscellaneous class that was supposed to cover everything about present, past, and future living on all of the planets and their colonies.

The teacher, an Animarian who went by Professor Adal, was waiting for us in the globe shaped building that only contained this one room. His skin was pale, green and delicate like Kavi’s. He dressed like a conservative human, slacks and a shirt, but wore a traditional Tundrian hat. It was made entirely out of fur and sloped to cover his neck and ears.

I could see that Kavi tensed upon seeing him, but followed Astra to join us in the back of the classroom. I grumbled silently under my breath. It was bad enough I had to walk to class with them, let alone share a bench. It was a good thing Mother couldn’t see me then, and I didn’t even want to think about what my little pest, Kios, would say.

Professor Adal was seated atop his desk with his legs tucked under him. “Hello, all. I am Professor Adal, and