by AJ Brooks
“Advanced Seminar began two weeks ago, so you will study privately with me to get you caught up, and then be integrated into the class with the other new recruits. Starting tomorrow.”
There’s no other news I can get today that will be worse than the prospect of private study with Isha again. Because I was the only child on Athena besides Eion, my General Knowledge years were all spent under the sharp white-blue eyes of the coldest woman on the station.
“What about the lab? How am I going to have time to work?”
“The Council has given me explicit instructions that your education comes before your apprenticeship. I’m required to abide by their decisions, and I suggest you do as well. We both know how hard your father fought for your integration here.”
I press my lips tight together; she’s hit me with the only thing I can’t argue. Glitching memories saturated with shame latch on, and I struggle to disconnect them. She can’t know the whole story, but she knows enough to use it against me.
Both Eion and I are quiet until we get to my sleeping quarters, which is tucked away with my workshop and rolled up into one disposable arm of Athena. Built to keep me in.
Or other people out.
I don’t even know anymore.
Maybe it is still a prison. A prison with a fancier name.
Eion lets out a big sigh filled with unspoken emotion.
“What?” I know it’s going to be a lecture, and that she’s been stewing in it since the silence fell.
“You’re not planning on going to Seminar, are you?”
“Academics aren’t really my thing, Eion. You know that.” The avoidance of her question is intentional. The thought of skipping has been stuck in my mind. I skipped General Knowledge all the time, and she always scolded me for that, too. It was hard for her to understand that I learn by doing. Working with my hands has always been easier than reading from scroll files.
“But you don’t know if you’ll end up in Weapon Development. Being an apprentice doesn’t guarantee a placement.” Eion tucks her hands into the pockets of her lab coat and tips forward onto her toes, looking me deeper in the eye. “This split placement thing is weird. They’ve never done this before.”
“I’ll be fine.” I tug at my glove. Fine is something I haven’t really been since I lived on the Trailblazer.
“I worry about you, is all. I want you to make yourself useful, Helia. Work hard. Prove you deserve to be here.”
“I bust my talisa around here. What is that supposed to mean?”
I hold her stare, struggling with the intense need to protect myself. Even from her. Always on the defensive. In a second, my muscles become heavy and weighed down by the events of the day. Her shoulders slump, and her head tilts to the side as if she can sense my waning strength.
“I know. But you aren’t always the best at taking guidance. This is a military station. Taking orders is basically the whole idea.”
The way my arms slide together in front of my chest doesn’t really dispute her statement.
“I don’t want to be a soldier.” For a thousand reasons. The idea of yes sirs and no ma’ams is highly unappealing, but it’s more than that.
A terse and understanding smile pinches the corners of Eion’s mouth. “I don’t want them to have any reason to send you away. Especially over something like that stunt with Kaygan.”
“That’s exactly why I shouldn’t be a soldier, Eion.” My words carry crackling energy and boom down the hall. “How do they not see that?”
Her eyes cast down, and her shoulders pause with a held breath. “You have to listen to them, Helia. Please. There are much worse places than here for people like you. I just… Promise me you won’t bring any more negative attention to yourself?”
“What do you mean worse places?”
“Just go to your seminars,” she responds, avoiding my question as much as I avoided hers.