The Sky Drifter (11 page)

“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—d
o 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.

I walked deeper into the brightly lit corridor, along which were six doors—three on either side—each of which led to the second thing the teachers liked to do—research. I’d never had the fortune of glimpsing behind any of the doors, so the only indication of what was beyond came from Ms. Photuris, who’d told me they were laboratories dedicated to the research and exploration of matters too technically advanced for me to comprehend, and, therefore, think about. Knowing better than to probe any further, I’d begrudgingly accepted her answer.

I walked to the door at the end of the corridor, opened it by pressing the blue pad on the left side of the wall and stepped inside.

THE ROOM WAS VERY
simple. Its walls, floor and ceiling were a blinding white with a console in the middle of the room, its podium extending up just past my waist. Ahead, an enormous display screen, spanning most of the length and width of the back wall, waited in darkness for power to surge through it.

Standing rigidly beside the console, her hands behind her back, Ms. Photuris’ greeting resounded in my mind.
Hello, Seven.
The teacher tended to call me by my nickname during these classes, which I didn’t really mind, guessing she did so to be friendly.

I trust you have recovered from whatever episode caused you to lose the battle simulation earlier?

Her voice was as cold and sharp as a blade, slicing through my brain with her every word. This tone being the only she seemed to have, and her face being as straight and emotionless as that of any statue, it was next to impossible to tell what her mood was. During normal academy hours, we or, at least, Iris, Pi and I, always just presumed she meant business, just in case. She could just as easily have been wearing a perpetual smile behind her frozen features, jovially giggling along to the daily mischievousness of most students, restraining herself just enough to teach. Yeah, right.

Without waiting for my answer, she asked,
Are you ready?

Sensing her possible frustration at my loss earlier, I was glad she wasn’t chatty. She took a couple of steps to the side, away from the console, and I stepped forward until I took my place behind it. As soon as I did, the display screen turned to a bright, shimmering gold, just as the light—the source of which couldn’t be seen—faded and died.

You may begin
, came Ms. Photuris’ voice.

As soon as I’d heard those words, I immediately changed the formation of my units, re-positioning the right central one just ahead of the central left, forming a triangle shape. The enemy, on the other hand, placed its central left unit behind its far-end right one, and made its central left unit retreat slightly so it was levelled with the re-positioned unit at the back.

Fuelled by the thrill of competition, I mobilized my three infantry units with the central one being closely followed by the reserves behind them. Just before we were in range, I split my central infantry into three sections—the far right joined the right flanking unit. The far left joined the left flanking unit, and the center continued advancing forward, still backed by the reserves behind it.

Meanwhile, the enemy split its central infantry unit in two, making its right half quickly file behind the other two right-flanking units. As soon as it had accomplished that, it deployed its newly positioned infantry to arch around and ahead of the two that were ahead. When it had over-taken the second, it too arched around and ahead of the first unit, which followed behind it soon after. This placed them all on the left flank of my charging infantry.

Taking heavy fire, I immediately sent my reserves charging toward them, splitting my central infantry in half to join with the left to engage them. My far left and central units continued forward to engage the enemy’s own. Positioned on the far right and center, my two other units and reserves merged with the former, creating one bigger unit.