He picked up a bright pink sheet from a small stack at the corner of the table.
“If you’re interested in assisting the war effort by other means, we’re starting a fundraising club. Just fill this out and—”
“I want to serve,” I interrupted, coolly. The edges of my hair curled.
He blinked. “Forms ‘62A’ through ‘70C,’ then. The first aptitude test will be administered today, after school, at twenty-five o’clock, at the National Resource Center. Bring the completed paperwork for admittance. And, may God be with you,” he added with heavy sarcasm.
I snatched the pages from his hands and stalked away, forgetting to thank him.
* * *
Diver. I couldn’t believe it. I stared at the results in my shaking hands. I was in the ninety-ninth percentile of all the mental aptitude, reflex and eye-hand coordination exams. No surprises there. My top swimming scores, however, did shock me. When tasked with completing an obstacle course in a forty-degree pool, I honestly thought I’d die. In seconds, my whole body prickled as though pressed into the scales of a Conflagrian pine dragon. It was nothing like swimming in the Fervor River when I was a kid. I raced through, performance sloppier than I would’ve liked, just so I could get out before freezing to death. My speed must’ve impressed the examiners. They didn’t know just why I was in such a hurry.
Did that mean I was placed wrongly? Swimming in cold water would obviously be a pretty big part of life as a diver. I folded the acceptance letter and stuck it in the pocket of my robe, alongside my crystal and Fair’s note. I remembered my vision of the Ichthyothian sliding off the grey submarine. The thought alone turned my bones to ice. Didn’t that indicate I was unfit to be a diver myself?
Well, I didn’t get to choose where I was placed. I couldn’t appeal their decision. And, I shouldn’t want to, anyway. I wanted to serve under Lechatelierite. I needed to talk to him. I had to.
* * *
October seventh, seven o’clock.
My nerves jittered as I surveyed myself in the bathroom mirror, fifteen minutes before the start of my first class at the Nurian Diving Academy. White was not a color seen very often in Conflagria or southeastern Nuria. But, suddenly, I found myself in a world where everything was white—the walls, furniture, metal floors, uniforms, everything. The whiteness of my surroundings accentuated the fiery redness of my hair and skin. On my way to class, people stared openly at me. I clutched my books to my chest and tried my best to ignore them. A large group now emerged from an adjoining corridor, chattering loudly as they passed in front of me. One of the boys was very tall and had dark-blonde hair, bright hazel eyes and a steel cross dangling from a leather strap around his neck.
“Leavesleft,” I said aloud. “Nurtic Leavesleft, from the arcade.”
Not just from the arcade, but from the National Library, five ages ago. Not that I’d ever tell him about that day.
He turned, eyes wide. Then, he gave me a smile so broad, you’d think we were long-lost best friends or something.
“Hey, you’re that train conductor!” He paused and a twinge of pink touched his tan cheeks. “I’m sorry, but I don’t remember your name.”
He didn’t remember because I never told him, in the first place.
“Scarlet July,” I responded as he shook my hand—a Nordic greeting habit I found silly; we Conflagrians preferred bowing. I noticed how very tiny my hand was in his. “So, where are your friends, Ecivon and Tnerruc?”
He seemed surprised by my recollection of his friends’ names. Then, his grin disappeared.
“They didn’t make it in,” he answered, sadly. “But, they promised to test again, as soon as possible. And, my pals from the swim team are here: Arrhyth and Dither.”
Arrhyth? As in, Arrhyth Link? I was flabbergasted. His father’s job was to keep the seven-hundred nations of Second Earth isolated. And, Arrhyth was participating in an international conspiracy that could get Nuria blacklisted from the Order. Wasn’t Arrhyth a huge security risk?
Nurtic noticed the look on my face. “Don’t worry, Mr. Arnold Link is totally cool with it. I know him and the whole Link family, really well. They won’t tell the Order anything. In fact, Mr. Link is in a position to help cover for the alliance.”
I froze. What? Oh, Tincture, was I dying to know the story behind all that.
“So, you enjoyed piloting virtual subs so much, you decided to try the real thing?” I asked.
Nurtic nodded, laughing. “I was born to be a pilot,” he said with that wistful, the-future-is-calling look on his dimpled face. “I’m also really fascinated by Ichthyothian technology.” He leaned in and spoke in a whisper, as though relaying juicy gossip: “I heard that, in a couple ages, there’s going to be this device called ‘PAVLAK’—no idea what the acronym stands for, yet—which will, among so many things, provide pilots with live-action, three-dimensional, holographic displays of the battle in the cockpit during the fighting. They’ve been working on it for nearly a decade!”
“Wow,” I said, though I didn’t share his enthusiasm. My eyes easily picked up most things normal people relied on radars for.
“I can’t wait to fly with one of those. Well, I can’t wait to fly a military craft, period. I flew Cessnas, back home. I took lessons at the Alcove City Flight School and even did some amateur air shows. Loved every minute. I was born to be a pilot,” he repeated.
“And, yet, they made you a diver.”
“Yeah, but there’s still plenty of opportunities to pilot in the Diving Fleet. I heard the new, mini vitreous silicas are convertible. They used to be built for either air or sea, but the new, smaller ships can do both. Two in one, plane and sub! I can’t wait to get my hands on one of those.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “So, were you hoping to be placed in the Air Force instead?”
“While that’d probably be a more natural fit for me, I actually wanted to be in the Diving Fleet.”
“Why?”
“So I could serve under Commander Cease Lechatelierite,” he answered, to my great surprise. That made two of us. “In high school, I wrote a paper on him. My twelfth-grade civics teacher was an Ichthyothian fugitive who hated the Isolationist Laws. He eventually got arrested and deported back home for it—it’s long story; I promise I’ll tell you sometime. But, anyway, Arrhyth, Dither and I—we all figured, if we’re going to do something as crazy as participate in an international conspiracy to defend our country, we might as well do it under the best military leader in the history of Second Earth. Right?”
“Fair enough,” I said.
“So, what made you decide to join the military?”
Well, you see, Nurtic, I was a deported Conflagrian convict who wanted revenge and to free my people from an evil dictatorship.
I shrugged. “It’s better than being a train conductor. My life actually has direction, now.”
His eyes traveled up and down my delicate frame, in awe. Normally, I would’ve found that gesture really creepy, but it seemed innocent, coming from Nurtic.
“You must be the only girl here,” he mused. Then, he looked away. “What did your family think of your decision to join up?”
I shrugged again.
“You don’t have a family, do you?”
I couldn’t breathe.
“I know you lived on the streets, Scarlet,” he said, quietly. “I figured it out, that day in the arcade. You said you didn’t go to school—and I know you must be younger than me—and you told your employer you didn’t have a mailbox, and I always saw you in the same clothes…” His gaze dropped to the floor. “I saw you behind the dumpster, sometimes. You’d make a little fire in a garbage can and huddle by it, shivering…”
Fear rippled through me. Did he ever see just how I made those fires?
Wait a minute—
“It was you, wasn’t it,” I breathed. “You’re the one who left food for me, on Sundays.”
Nurtic didn’t answer. Which gave me his answer.
I wa
s silent. My insides squirmed. Since the age of ten, my world consisted of cold isolation. It was incredibly unnerving to be the recipient of such generosity from a virtual stranger. I continued walking, books to my chest, staring straight ahead into the white oblivion of my surroundings. If it weren’t for Nurtic, I probably would’ve starved to death, by now. Though I was grateful, I really didn’t like feeling so indebted to anyone. Not that Nurtic expected anything in return. He probably thought, when he left Alcove City for the military, he’d never see me again.
“Well, I’m glad you’re here,” Nurtic plodded on, breaking the tension. “They’ll be expecting a lot from all of us, you know. You’re no exception, no matter how tiny you are.” He paused for a moment and added, “Just like Lechatelierite.” He gave me a quizzical look. “You sort of remind me of him. Or, what I know about him, anyway. He’s physically little. Barely over five feet, which may sound tall to you, but, believe me, that’s small for a seventeen-age-old guy!” he exclaimed, being comfortably over six feet himself. Tincture, Nurtic was comparing me to the Commander? He just didn’t stop alarming me. “Did you have a branch preference?” He sure was chatty. And, nosy. I was starting to seriously regret bringing this conversation upon myself, in first place.
“No.”
“Really? None, at all? No particular draw to swimming or flying or anything? Nothing you were aiming for, when you took the tests?”
What could I say? Well, Nurtic, I also wanted to serve under Lechatelierite, but only because I liked what I saw of him when I used my eye spectrum to illegally eavesdrop on a top-secret meeting here at this very facility, just last month.
“Well, I do love swimming,” I said. It was true, though certainly not the main reason I wanted to be a diver. “Growing up, my favorite hobby was to swim in...” heh, I surely couldn’t say the Fervor River, “in the Briny Ocean.”
“Cool,” Nurtic breathed. “I like swimming, too, but it wasn’t my favorite thing, growing up. I was more into basketball and lacrosse. I only joined the swim-team in my last year of high school.”
Then, Nurtic suddenly realized he forgot his calculus book and had to double back to the lockers to get it. I was relieved to finally be left alone.
My first period of the day was a calculus-oriented strategy class, taught by Colonel Autoero Austere. Colonel Austere was quite a sensation among my peers. On our way to the lecture hall, after Nurtic left, I overhead many of them chattering about what a legend he was. “The great Commander Lechatelierite was his protégé,” they said.
I perked at the sound of the Commander’s name. I just arrived at the academy, and I’d already heard so much about him. He was the only one my comrades talked about more than Austere. They were most awed by the fact he was made commander at fifteen. I was really confused by this. At what age did Ichthyosis allow people to enlist? The recruitment officer at Bay River Secondary seemed pretty emphatic about the necessity of my graduating high school first. How did Lechatelierite join up so young? And, why would his parents let him?
There was also a lot of talk about his near-perfect record. Near-perfect. No one seemed to know too much about his one and only loss. Neither did I, but there was a lot I could infer from the way he looked when I saw him. But, the others didn’t seem to have a clue about his injuries. As far as they were concerned, he’d escaped from that battle unscathed and was still active in combat until today.
I was among the first to enter the lecture hall. I sat in the seventh row and began to absorb the incredible sight before me. Three colossal, digital boards covered in calculations dominated the front wall. The leftward wall bore a digital map delineating all seven-hundred nations of Second Earth. This was the first time I’d seen a complete world map. To my right, there was a blown-up map of the northwestern hemisphere. I eyed Conflagria and could easily locate the Fire Pit, the System Mage Castle, Fair’s place, Crimson and Ambrek’s cabin, and my old house. At the sight of my childhood home, my heart pounded against my ribcage and a lump involuntarily rose to my throat. I was surprised by the intensity of my reaction. After spending the last five ages trying to forget about Conflagria, my past came rushing back in a second. I was frustrated with myself; I should’ve anticipated something like this upon entering an academy where I’d be taught to fight mages!
Austere was watching me from the front of the room. I quickly looked away from the map. I couldn’t be caught staring at my homeland with any sort of revealing expression on my face. No one could know about my heritage, at least not yet. I couldn’t say anything until I graduated into the fleet. Even then, I had to be careful about how and when to tell Lechatelierite. First, I needed to earn his trust and respect, through excellence.
Students filled the room and settled down, glancing at Conflagria with, at most, an expression of mild interest. They all seemed much more fascinated by the world map—those were hard to come by. How could I be so stupid as to stare at Conflagria that intently?
Nurtic was the very last to arrive to class. He darted in a moment before the bell rang, and, of course, just had to push all the way to the seventh row to sit next to me. I didn’t meet his eye.
“Welcome to the Nurian Diving Academy,” Colonel Austere spoke Nurian with a mild Ichthyothian accent. “I am Colonel Autoero Austere, your calculus-strategy teacher,” he said, as if we didn’t already know all about him and his star pupil. He pushed a button on his podium and arrows began sliding across the map of the northwestern hemisphere, showing what I presumed to be troop movements from a battle. “My job is to teach you how this,” he gestured, “is derived from this.” Calculations now hovered above the vectors and dots. My mind immediately started correlating the two, but then Austere shut off the screen. “The state of the war is becoming desperate for Ichthyosis, which is why all courses at this academy have been condensed to get as many of you as possible into the North Septentrion Sea for final testing in seven months. No, I don’t expect everyone to make it. Far from it.” He paused. “From my experience, the only ones who do are those who want to.” He looked at each of us in turn as he spoke. “I define ‘want’ here as more than just a simple desire. It’s a hunger of mind, body and soul. An unwavering confidence in the belief that serving your country is not just the purpose of the next few months or ages of your life, but the very reason you were born. So, soldiers, ask yourselves right now why you’re here. Are you willing to possibly endure a fate worse than death, to protect the Nurro-Ichthyothian Alliance?”
At this, some of my peers gave each other subtle, confused looks. No doubt, they wondered what could possibly be worse than death.
I had a few ideas.
“Before you can learn to destroy the enemy, you must destroy every doubt in your mind regarding your purpose in this war. If you don’t kill this doubt, it will kill you.” The Colonel’s eyes rested on mine. “Do I make myself clear?” he barked.
“Sir, yes, sir!” we responded in unison.
I felt like my every doubt was written on my forehead for all to see; particularly my unease about my physical littleness and whether or not I’d really be able to kill a mage, when push came to shove.
Austere made no further preamble. He plunged directly into the day’s three-hour lesson. Even I was struggling to stay focused, through it all. I was familiar with calculus already, but I knew little of battle tactics or military strategies; First Earth history books didn’t go into that much detail. Nurtic was having far more difficulty than I. Often, he leaned over to whisper questions.
Calculus was followed by a three-hour lecture on Second Earth military history, which was followed by a seminar designed to teach us the Ichthyothian language in seven months, which was followed by a pilotry lesson. After a measly fifteen-minute break for a very late lunch, we hit the showers for ‘Diving 101.’ Austere wasn’t kidding when he said all the classes here were accelerated. I was exhausted by the time I finished strapping on my white diving-suit and flippers.
All seventy of us stood at attenti
on in a line around the many-mile-deep, saltwater pool. I looked down and saw my rosy-faced refection in the turquoise surface. Compared to my tall, broad-shouldered comrades, I looked laughably fragile.
The instructor, General Irri, stood on a diving board nearly half a mile high. He tumbled off the narrow plank, spun gracefully through the air and entered the water without a trace of a splash. While submerged, he moved so swiftly and invisibly, we were surprised when his head broke the surface a few feet from the sidelines. With no other introduction, he climbed out of the water and began breaking us into smaller groups. He appointed me the leader of a group of seven. A single second after the orders left his lips, I felt seven pairs of eyes size me up. I tried my best to keep my face blank as my stomach knotted. I didn’t expect this much personal pressure, the very first diving class.
Time passed slowly. Irri demonstrated a handful of basic diving techniques, assigned each team a different task, then cut us loose to accomplish our objectives.
Or, attempt to accomplish them, anyway. I really did have decent ideas for my group. I delivered orders as clearly as possible. I was open to others’ suggestions and was sure to incorporate them into my master plan. But, somehow, things just wouldn’t work out. I could practically feel the resentment radiate from my peers like auras, whenever I opened my mouth. It wasn’t long before the entire strategy fell apart. The only one who listened to me religiously was Nurtic Leavesleft. I clearly didn’t have the respect or trust of the rest. And, they sure weren’t helping me learn to trust them. I left class in the mood to set something on fire.
My next period was devoted to studying the culture and life of the Conflagrians.
“Know your friends well,” General Privil echoed the cliché, “but know your enemies better.”
I shifted in my seat. I most certainly knew my enemies much better, and being careless with that knowledge wouldn’t just be the end of my military career, but the end of my life. It was way too early for anyone to know the truth.
Spectrum Page 7