Adult Test, Julie Steimle [ebook reader with internet browser .TXT] 📗

that Zormna had her hands in it, except…what was this anthode coil doing in the collector/sorter?

Arden lifted up his head to see Zormna returning in his direction. “I thought I told you to leave?”

Zormna cocked her head and lifted her eyebrows in apology. “Salvar and I didn’t come on our own flight scooters. Can we take two of yours?”

Arden smiled at the cherubic face of the would-be adult and nodded. “Take one and share it.”

“Thank you, sir!” Zormna jumped up and quickly ran back to Salvar. In a wink they mounted. That was when Arden realized whom he told could fly his scooters. Calling out he said, “No wild flying, Zormna!”

But they were already gone.

Real Relief

The flight back was a joyous, happy trip. She was free! Zormna was tired and achy, even though she loved the inner workings of the ships, she was glad to be done with working on those of ISIC. She sped quickly past the gate officers out the compound doors with Salvar clinging to her back since she refused to be the passenger. Zipping through the uppercity sky, she startled several High Class members in the race home. Salvar’s grip tightened.

The sky traffic she had to dodge through flew at a crawl in comparison to her mAverick flying, and as soon as they could, Zormna and Salvar darted above the other vehicles to the tunnel entrance for the Surface Gate. They entered just below the posted speed limit, knowing the keen eyes of the uppercity police were actively on duty. The High Class cops loved to catch flymites breaking the rules. The tunnel soon dipped downward as the ceiling lights flashed above them in a strobe of white and blue. Their ships hummed above the slower traffic with echoes among the steel arches of the top. They reached their exit swiftly.

Bright light and the red zone above the crowd in the Surface Gate opened up for the speedster. Zormna zipped out then abruptly turned to the right, barely touching the warning wall. Salvar clenched his teeth, as he would have entered the hall at a slower speed since the sign on that wall requested. Slower traffic in this zone was required, though less observed.

Zormna again abruptly turned, this time to the left down the high-speed Surface Patrol tunnel, barely missing the corner of the hall. Salvar leaned with her in the turn. They accelerated down the hall toward the all too familiar gate. They were home.

The moment they parked the scooter, Zormna stood once more in front of the communications computer peering up at it though this time Anzer Tellovii stood at the gate, peeking out the office window at her.

“Zormna, that look becomes you,” the Anzer said with a smirk.

She sauntered over to the security booth with a look at the redheaded Anzer. Salvar shook his head and ducked down another hall. He was tired enough from the day’s confrontations to stick around for this one.

“I’m ready for that race now,” she said with a bit of nerve.

The Anzer stuck his tongue in his cheek and grinned at her. “I’d think you were ready for a shower. Zormna, you stink.”

Zormna stepped closer, leaning in the guard window with a sniff. “Well, at least I can wash my smell off, unlike your inherent reek.”

She hopped back from the window with a snicker as he swiped at her. Then she skipped down the same hall Salvar took. 

“Hey! You flea! One day you’ll get yours!” Anzer Tellovii angrily yelled out of the office window.

But she had already turned the corner to head back to the cadet quarters.

Skipping to the empty shower room, long vacated by cadets and officers alike, Zormna ran to one of the stalls, already stripping off her boots. Despite not being the prissy type, Zormna did like to be clean. She just didn’t freak out whenever she got dirty. She was feeling grimy with insulator fluid and lubrication gel when she opened the hatch to the laundry chute and stripped from head to foot, carefully removing then dumping her uniform. Even her undersuit was stained with patches of oil, sticking to her skin when she peeled it off. With a grimace, Zormna carefully undressed, unclipping the supple chain to the necklace her mother had given her from off the collar edges. The clips had made it so she could still wear open necked uniforms while wearing her medallion. Originally, when she had first entered the Patrol, the Kevin had offered to keep her family medallion for her in a safe box, but Zormna refused to part from it. It was the only connection to her family she had left and there was no way she was ever going to let go if it.

However, in the privacy of the empty shower room, she peered at it, lifting it up. It was not often that she was alone with time to actually inspect the ancient circular medallion she always wore. Here she traced every circle with her finger, starting with the inside center circles that made the ‘heart’. She knew that symbol well—it decorated all the uniforms, it was upon all the government buildings, garnished with sprigs of wheat and olive leaves in the etchings, and the seers wore it on their foreheads, just like all the Guard Class and Servant Class people had it branded into their palms. And it was branded on her right shoulder as a sign she was a Tarrn. It was the symbol of their people.

Still, she was never to show her medallion to any one. Her mother made her promise. The Kevin made her promise. Zormna sighed as she dropped the medallion, letting it hang below her chest. She pressed the shower button.

Washing, she soaped up, rinsed off, soaped up again and scrubbed down. She had to do all this quickly since everyone only was allowed a certain amount of time with the showers. It was all automated. Zormna wiped off her face and shoulders methodically. She stopped over her right shoulder, fingering the brand mark that was placed there when she was a mere baby. Sighing, she shook out her hair then wrapped the long drying towel that dispensed immediate from the stall wall around her shoulders and started to dry off. A good Arrassian never showed her shoulders, covering the mark.

The young High Class man came to her mind as she finished drying. Dropping the towel into the chute she then punched in her access code for a change of clothes. How could such a man exist?  He so boldly exposed his shoulders to her like he was confident she would accept his rude proposal. No one went around bare-shouldered except bimbos.

Zormna shook out her hair again as her issue clothing dispensed from the machine. The clips for her necklace were attached to the suit as usual. She dressed. Once done, she peered down at her uniform, smirking at how no one could tell she always wore a medallion. As she looked, she wondered if anyone else in the patrol was hiding a similar secret. It seemed to her that the Kevin would accommodate just about anyone if it meant giving them anonymity.

The halls were dark when she emerged from the shower room. The evening meal was almost over. Zormna barely ran into the eating hall in time to get her food, and when she did she saw Salvar sitting with some of his other friends, chatting up a storm about their day’s adventure. But instead of joining him, she decided to just get her food, eat and go. Though he looked up when she took her seat, Salvar merely smirked and continued his conversations, letting her do what she had been planning for that entire day.

Zormna returned to the outside communications computer in the front hall, staring at it. Anzer Tellovii no longer stood at his post by then, another Alea busy in his place working on transit papers. The computer screen was blank.

“The Council of Education is closed, Cadet. You won’t be getting your results today.” The echo of the news reached Zormna’s ears from the office window.

Exhaling a loud sigh, thanking the Alea as she left, Zormna kicked the ground then trudged back down the long hall to the cadet barracks. The man looked up from his work a moment and nodded.

Returning to her quarters with a taste of discouragement in her mouth, Zormna felt like crying. She rarely failed. Could she have failed this once? She did not think it was possible. Zormna was sure she had passed the physical examinations. Physically, she was a woman and no longer a child. That was obvious. And the general knowledge part of the test was easy. The facts took no time to recall. She was sure she had them all correct. And lastly, she was sure she had passed the emotional maturity part of the test. Her temper was a slight impediment, but she felt she had enough control over that by then. Perhaps it was her record of mischief that had stopped her. 

That had to have been it.

She shook her head.

Thinking about all the things that would have counted against her, Zormna recalled the prank she pulled on Anzer Tellovii, turning his hair green. Even after he shaved his head to get rid of the green dye it took forever to regrow, and even then it did not look as good as it used to. Perhaps it was her reckless flying. She did not think she was reckless. She knew what she was doing—exactly what she was doing in fact. Perhaps it was when she flew upside down in the flight chamber and hung from the handlebars that made her drop a point. She had been taken before the Patrol’s judicial council for that. She also paid for that in knee bruising work, scrubbing the old fashioned way, on her hands and knees.

Zormna stood in front of her doorway with another ill-hidden sigh that bordered on a moan. It must have been when she was caught in the pronuk court with Cadet Kurtz, tricked into that betting scam that almost cost her chance to even take the test.

Stepping into her room, she flipped the light switch on and was about to throw herself on her bunk—but she never made it that far. She bumped into someone’s broad chest. She lifted her eyes with a blush, blinking at the Kevin. “Excuse me, sir. I didn’t see you.”

She then stepped back and bowed.

Handing her a folded sheet of paper, the Kevin said, “I have been waiting for you. This came.”

Reaching up, Zormna took the carefully handled piece of paper from the Kevin’s fingers. Then she watched the closest thing she had to a father leave the room. As soon as he was gone she looked down at the paper then proceeded to unfold it. It was only one sheet, but it was enough.

She passed the test.

“Yow!” Zormna jumped, holding her head with the paper clutched in her hands. She was an adult!

Her eyes poured over the formal writing that declared her to be a responsible individual, developed and worthy to assume the class station of adulthood with her ranking right next to it—one hundred thirty. She stared at the number. So high. Never