The Secret Society (The Mayfly Series Book 2)

by Hannah Hopkins

  “Since when were you interested in shooting stars?” Austin laughed.

  “Since I’m able to appreciate what’s left of our planet’s natural beauty,” Dylan fired back. Austin exchanged a look of scepticism with Toby, who shrugged, looking up at his best friend with utter bewilderment.

  “Come on,” Dylan pressed. “All we ever do is sit around and drink. Let’s do something different! It’s supposed to be the biggest meteor shower in a hundred years.”

  “But… it’s cold out there!” Toby complained.

  “Then put your coat on,” Dylan told him. “Elsie, you think it’s a good idea, don’t you?”

  He widened his eyes, silently imploring that she agreed with him.

  “I’ve never seen a shooting star,” she shrugged. “It might be fun.”

  “Alright,” Alfie conceded. “If it means that much to you then we’ll go.”

  The gathering of friends stood up, pulling on their hats, coats, scarves and gloves as they prepared to embrace the bitter cold waiting for them outside the bar’s transparent doors. Whilst everyone was distracted, Dylan walked over to Elsie, speaking in a low voice to en-sure he wasn’t overheard.

  “Now’s your chance,” he grinned, winking as he steered Alfie and Toby outside, leaving Elsie alone with Austin. She watched as Austin pulled his grey coat around himself, adjusting the collar in two fluid motions as he held his drink between his teeth. When he was finished, he caught the glass in his gloved hand, clasping it firmly to stop it slipping from his grasp. Noticing Elsie waiting for him, he smiled pleasantly in her direction.

  “Are you ready?” he asked her.

  “Yes,” she said quietly, following him out of the door.

  Together, they stepped onto the cobbled street, their eyes fixed on the crystal-clear canopy of stars above them, free from the smog of pollution that reeked over the larger cities and towns. Elsie watched her breath turn white before her eyes, huddling herself together as the wall of ice that embraced them upon their arrival outside pricked her skin, as though stabbing her with thousands of invisible needles. She hopped up and down on the spot, desperately trying to keep herself warm as she glanced towards Toby, Dylan and Alfie, who were standing a few feet down the road, talking loudly as they waited for the meteor shower to begin.

  In a flash, the first shooting star streaked across the sky, leaving a trail of silver behind it, before vanishing almost as suddenly as it had appeared. For a moment, Elsie forgot what she was supposed to be doing, entranced by the magical sight before her. After watching for a few minutes, she turned to Austin, his blue eyes reflected in the starlight as he looked up at the sky with awe. Feeling Elsie’s gaze upon him, he looked back at her with wonder, the beauty of the shooting stars causing all pretence to melt away.

  Suddenly, Elsie found the words she had been holding back tumbling from her mouth without her consent, the profoundness of the moment hijacking her autonomy and forcing her to confess her feelings. When she had finished speaking, the world seemed to stop, freezing itself in time as she awaited Austin’s response. A brief expression of shock fleeted across his face, transforming quickly into a warm smile.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked her, his voice softer than she had ever heard it.

  “I was scared,” she answered honestly. “I didn’t know how you’d react.”

  “Well,” he grinned. “Now you do.”

  There was a long silence as they stared at each other, each acknowledging the truth they had been hiding from themselves since they had met. It was the last night in Elsie’s life that anything other than Austin mattered, the next five years centring solely around his existence. The day that Will had been born was the first time since the meteor shower that she had experienced love for an individual that wasn’t Austin, and she was certain there would never be another occasion in her lifetime when the feeling would return.

  “Did you miss me?” Alfie grinned, appearing by Elsie’s side and bringing her back to the present with a crash.

  “Alfie,” she began, her eyes glistening as she continued to stare into the past, her heart aching with a dull pain as her memories consumed her.

  “Yes?” Alfie replied.

  “Do you think it’s possible to be in love with someone, even if all logic tells you there’s no sense to it?” she asked him, her voice thick with emotion.

  “Yes,” he replied, casting his eyes towards the floor. “Yes, I suppose I do.”

  12.

  The Silent Observer

  Kurt frowned into the mirror, tying a Windsor knot into his emerald green tie as he begrudgingly pulled his dinner jacket over his wrinkled shirt. Leaving his modest apartment on the third floor, he began journeying down to the lobby, his feet dragging as he moved with dread towards the staff meet-up Miss Fortem had organised for the Academy’s teachers, insisting that everyone attend. The thought of the event had left a melancholy cloud over Kurt’s head for the entire duration of the school holidays, and he had tried with desperation to think of any valid excuse that would get him out of going. Much to his dismay, he had been unable to fabricate a justifiable reason, his fear of Miss Fortem’s reaction squashing every idea he had came up with flat.

  Feeling sorry for himself, Kurt disembarked from the lift, strolling at a snail’s pace towards “Fabrizzio’s Italian Diner”, which was to be the setting of his despair. He braced himself before entering the restaurant, grimacing as he watched through the window pane at his colleagues chatting and laughing amongst themselves, the strain of the forced interactions evidenced by the over-enthusiastic head nods and awkward body language. Admitting defeat, he pressed his finger to the sensor pad beside the door, pushing it open as slowly as he could muster and placing it back in its frame with care, in order to buy himself more time. Sinking his hands into his pockets, he shuffled over to the buffet table, nodding an uncomfortable greeting in the direction of his fellow teachers as he passed them.

  When he reached the food, Kurt took his time browsing the selection, loading assorted items he knew he wouldn’t eat onto the provided paper plate he balanced carefully on his palm. He made sure to keep his eyes downwards, hoping to avoid conversation entirely until his moment of freedom finally arrived. Over the years, he had perfected the art of blending into the background, and he managed to stay inconspicuous for several minutes before anyone noticed him. To his surprise, it was Mr. Mayheim, the mad Technology teacher, that approached him first, his gnarled hands shaking as he backed into the buffet table, his sallow eyes darting wildly around the room.

  “Are you alright, Albert?” Kurt asked, watching with the concern as the old man began muttering to himself, running his hands through his dishevelled, grey hair as he spoke.

  “What? Oh, yes I’m- I’m fine,” he stuttered, jumping at the sound of Kurt’s voice.

  “Are you sure? You don’t look fine to me,” Kurt pressed him, watching as he accidentally sunk his hand into a bowl of crisps, spilling them all over the floor.

  “You can’t help me, Kurt, no one can,” Albert spluttered, spittle flying from his mouth as he enunciated the words.

  Kurt raised his eyebrows, amused by Albert’s dramatics.

  “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Kurt asked, wondering what in the Universe could have rattled him so badly.

  “You won’t believe me,” Albert sighed. “You’ll think I’m insane- just like everybody else does.”

  “Nobody thinks you’re insane, Albert,” Kurt lied. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. Trust me, it takes a lot for me to be shocked.”

  Albert inhaled sharply, closing his eyes as he prepared to reveal whatever was troubling him. He looked Kurt deep in the eyes, his expression full of fear.

  “I’m being watched,” he said in a hushed tone, checking over his shoulders manically as though searching for invisible tormentors.

  “Watched?” Kurt repeated. “By who?”

  “I don’t know exactly,” Albert replied. “But I know
they’re around. I feel them watching me all the time- both here on the Mayfly and the Academy. They’re never far away…always just around the corner.”

  Kurt’s bemusement turned rapidly into concern as he watched his elderly colleague unravelling in front of him.

  “Do you think you might need some time off, Albert?” he suggested gently, noticing the strain of exhaustion etched across his pale face.

  “Time off? What good will that do? They’re not going to stop until they get what they want. I don’t know what they’re plotting, but if my inventions get into the wrong hands, the consequences would be disastrous,” Albert ranted, his voice growing steadily louder with each passing second.

  “You think someone’s stealing from you? Or trying to?” Kurt said slowly, attempting to follow Albert’s ramblings.

  “Yes,” he nodded fervently. “That’s exactly what I think.”

  “I’m sure everything’s fine,” Kurt reassured him. “Have you spoken to Veronica about any of this?”

  “Veronica?” Albert asked in a daze.

  “Veronica Fortem, the Headmistress,” Kurt reminded him.

  “Oh, yes. I have told her about what went missing at the school, but she believes it to be the work of unruly students,” Albert frowned.

  “Maybe it is,” Kurt shrugged. “Our pupils aren’t exactly renowned for following the rules.”

  “I’m aware of that,” Albert snapped. “I’ve spent enough time around children to recognise when I am the subject of an immature prank. There’s something far more sinister about this, Kurt. I had a lot of enemies back on Earth, you know. I angered a lot of people when I worked for I-Tech. They wanted me to develop things I wasn’t comfortable with- things that had the power to cause mass death and destruction. My refusal to comply with the company’s agenda hasn’t been forgotten. That much became clear when I attempted to browse their shop in the lobby last week and was forcibly ejected. Maybe those in charge decided that now is the time for me to pay for my offences.”

  “Perhaps you should go to the Captain?” Kurt advised. “If you really think you’re in danger, you should let someone know.”

  “No one can be trusted,” Albert hissed. “The Captain runs in the same circles as Brett Baker. The elite look out for one another. We have to be wary of everyone.”

  Before Kurt could respond, he was interrupted by Jeremy McGowan, who strolled over to the table, his mouth stuffed full of food as he returned to collect his second helpings. He smiled at the two men merrily through engorged cheeks, swallowing his mouthful as he prepared to exchange pleasantries with them.

  “Evening, Gents,” he said, once he had swallowed. “Everything alright over here?”

  He had meant the question as a passing remark, but his prying caused Albert to freeze, his body stiffening as he narrowed his eyes with suspicion, regarding Jeremy as though he were a bomb about to explode at any moment.

  “Oh, yes, everything’s fantastic!” he answered hysterically. “Really excellent! Kurt and I were just discussing the wonders of the buffet food, weren’t we Kurt? I mean, have you ever seen anything so wonderful as chunks of pineapple on a stick? Ingenious invention if you ask me.”

  Jeremy looked at the old man with confusion, his hand suspended over a plate of sausage rolls as he tried to make sense of what Albert had said.

  “Er, is that right?” he asked, turning to Kurt with hopes of finding an explanation.

  Kurt hesitated, torn between appearing insane to his younger colleague and upsetting the already distressed Albert by revealing the truth.

  “Yes,” Kurt replied flatly. “We were talking about pineapple on a stick.”

  “Well, alright then…” Jeremy said uncertainly, moving away from the two men as fast as he could manage, glancing nervously over his shoulder as he returned to mix with the more ordinary members of staff.

  “That was embarrassing, Albert!” Kurt berated him, once Jeremy was out of earshot. “Not to mention highly unnecessary! I hardly think that Jeremy McGowan has anything to do with whatever you think is happening to you.”

  “You can’t be sure of that,” Albert retorted. “I’ve always found it strange that a decorated war hero would choose to take up the mantle of teaching after leaving Earth. Maybe this has been his plan all along.”

  “Honestly, Albert, next you’re going to start telling me that the robot Arithmetic teacher is really a secret weapon in disguise, planted at the school by I-Tech to perform an assassination on you.” Kurt mocked him, laughing at the idea of such a ridiculous notion.

  Albert gasped, his hand flying to his chest in horror.

  “Do you think that’s true?” he asked, his voice trembling with panic.

  At that moment, Miss Fortem called loudly across the room, summoning the teachers into her presence and instructing them to be seated at a long, glass table in the centre of the room. Kurt made his way over gratefully, positioning himself at the far end with hopes to escape from the alarming conversation he had somehow found himself dragged into. To his dismay, Albert followed him, taking the seat beside him and grinning merrily, seeming to believe that the two of them had formed a companionship by the buffet table.

  “Thank you all for coming,” Miss Fortem announced, once everyone had settled in their seats. “I hope you enjoyed the buffet starter. Now, it is time for our main course.”

  She snapped her fingers, causing several waiters to appear at once, each one laden with dishes balanced carefully in the crooks of their arms.

  “I assumed you wouldn’t mind me taking the liberty of ordering for you,” Miss Fortem said, as plates of food were placed delicately in front of each member of staff. “I based my choices on all of your meal preferences programmed into the database at the school. I’m sure you’ll understand that there are many pressing matters to be discussed, and therefore all time-wasting activities must be excluded from this meeting.”

  Kurt stared with profound disappointment at the seafood platter which had been presented to him. He was overwhelmed by a sudden powerful sense of regret, recalling with a heavy heart the occasion during his first term at the Academy when he had tried to be adventurous, sampling the unappealing squid dish the cooks had decided to serve one woeful Friday night. He picked up his fork and began pushing the food around the plate, hoping he would give a convincing enough performance of eating the foul-smelling meal.

  “First of all, I would like to share with you how pleased I am with our progress this year so far,” Miss Fortem smiled, her own plate of spaghetti lying untouched before her. “There have been no scandals, bar one or two minor incidents and I am well on my way to repairing the Space Academy’s severely damaged reputation. It’s very important that I make a good impression on our pupils as the new Headmistress. In order to do this, I have to keep my record clean, therefore succeeding at what my predecessor failed to do,” Miss Fortem continued.

  Kurt snorted before he could stop himself, hastily disguising the outburst as a poorly-timed sneeze. He couldn’t help but scoff at Miss Fortem’s attitude to the near-death experiences her students had faced during Admiral Allance’s time as Headmaster. It both amused and depressed him that she seemed to care more about how such an incident would make her look, rather than the danger it posed to her students. Miss Fortem shot Kurt a disapproving look, pausing for several seconds before she resumed her speech.

  “Our primary focus is to rebuild the school’s image, allowing it to be seen once again as a reputable establishment and the most desirable place to study,” she reiterated. Before she could go any further, Jeremy McGowan cleared his throat.

  “I’m sorry, Veronica,” he began, “but shouldn’t our primary focus always be the education and welfare of our students, rather than how the school is perceived by the outside world?”

  “The two go hand-in-hand,” Miss Fortem snapped. “The student’s self-esteem and motivation will be kept at a high level if they continue believing that they are the envy of all other children t
heir age. When I was appointed Headmistress by the Captain, he informed me that it is now my personal duty to cultivate an adequate workforce he can utilise when we reach Novum. Our students are being trained to take on the most important jobs in our new civilisation. If parents stop sending their students to us, then I cannot fulfil the Captain’s orders, thus putting the future of our entire species in jeopardy.”

  Jeremy shifted in his seat uncomfortably but said nothing, averting his eyes to the ground in an attempt to avoid further confrontation. Kurt raised his eyebrows, amazed that a man who was famed for his courage could be so easily silenced. He supposed Jeremy’s job at the Academy must be worth more to him than was apparent.

  “Moving on to my next point,” Miss Fortem continued, indicating that the discussion was over. “In order to improve our international relations, I have organised a Rocket Race between us and Weltraumschule- the German version of our Academy. I’m hoping that a bit of friendly competition will renew everyone’s spirits, whilst also providing a distraction for anyone dwelling on the events of last year. I’ve invited the school’s racing team and a handful of staff to stay on Academy grounds. It will be of utmost importance that we display great hospitality towards our guests during their limited time with us. I am relying on all of you to showcase the best of what makes our school excellent, further strengthening our profile amongst the other ships and their citizens,” Miss Fortem ordered them, her beady eyes roving over the faces of her staff as she ensured her message had been understood.

  There were a few nods and murmurs of compliance from around the table, with no one brave enough to disagree with the Headmistress’ forceful stance on the matter. Satisfied that her orders had been properly received, she crossed her legs, leaning back in her chair and relaxing considerably, the need to dominate her staff disappearing as she finished her speech.

  “Now that I’ve said my piece, would anyone else like to raise an issue?” she asked, her tone posing the question as if it were some kind of dare.