Schooled

by Pamela Ruth Foland

  Lyla smiled and answered for her mother, “The usual!” Her mother laughed and nodded. Sally Mae rushed off to the kitchen. She was back in moments with their order. Two specials and a plate of sizzling steak fajitas for Lyla’s mother. Lyla knew they were straight out of the food processor, and exact molecular reprints of her mother’s favorite recipe.

  Lyla started eating her roasted chicken and watched her mother assemble her fajita in the same way she always did. “So, mom, how’s work?”

  “Busy as always dear,” Her mother took a bite of her food.

  “Yeah but still you decided to come for a visit… maybe for the whole weekend?” Lyla pressed.

  “I more than have vacation time saved up, but… we will see. Let’s eat so we can spend some quality time together.” Lyla nodded and began bolting down her lunch. Her mother was barely done with her first fajita when Lyla was licking her pudding bowl. “Well, I guess we’re both done.”

  Sally Mae ran up to the table, “Do you want me to wrap that up?” Lyla’s mom waved one hand and held the other out for the payment tablet. She slid her finger around on the screen and thumbed her affirmation before passing it back to Sally Mae. Sally Mae looked at the tablet and Lyla could see her heart fluttering with excitement at the tip Lyla’s mother must have just left.

  “See you around Tau,” Lyla’s mom waved and then gestured for Lyla to lead her out of the restaurant. “So, Lyla, how have things been with you? Are you keeping up with your studies?”

  Lyla glared at the ground for a moment, “Yeah, as best as I can. There is a lot of research I can’t do because the media center AIs have ridiculous ideas when it comes to child locks. I can’t get anything about Sanctuary, The Portal or factor leadership. As far as the AI is concerned, history stopped when Natto took over Refuge in his rebellion.”

  Her mother nodded, “I wasn’t aware that you had reached that point in the curriculum.”

  Lyla smiled, “Technically I haven’t. But you know me, I find a hole in what the computer will share and that is all I can think about.” Her mother had set course for the Dairy King as was their usual itinerary in town. They walked into the dining room which had been expanded from a walk up counter to a dine in establishment. It was the best place for ice cream in a thirty-five mile radius.

  “Unfortunately I do,” her mother sighed. She gestured for two of their usual, “Maybe it is time we discussed other educational opportunities for you. That farmhouse has gotten awfully small for your potential.”

  “Does that mean I am coming to Sanctuary with you?” Lyla’s eyes lit up. Her mother shook her head no and took two chocolate dipped vanilla ice cream cones from the server. “But mom, I know there are more opportunities there!”

  “For trouble maybe!” Her mother sniped. Lyla blinked at her mother, she wasn’t usually so short with her. “I was actually thinking about a residential school. They are just establishing it. You would be in the first class. They have a policy of anonymity, so you wouldn’t be handicapped by your father’s or my reputation, or that of any of your ancestors. I think it would be good for you...” Her mother continued on in a reasonable tone, but Lyla stopped following her words.

  One question rang in Lyla’s mind, “But when would I get to see you?”

  Her mother sighed, “Graduation.” Her personal data remote pin squawked, She glanced at an image on her watch and sighed.

  “You want to warehouse me for four years so you don’t have to deal with me!” Lyla shouted. The lights in the restaurant began to flicker.

  “Calm down Lyla, I am just offering you an opportunity, and it is actually a five year program,” Her mother stated.

  “Five years! Like that is better?” Light bulbs began glowing brightly and then popping.

  Lyla’s mother stood, calm in the center of an emotional storm that the building seemed to be agreeing with. “I am sorry Lyla, but I think I am going to have to insist upon it.” Lyla’s mother tapped her personal data organizational program pin and spoke calmly, “Mookie, bring the car around.

  That just pissed Lyla off. Every light in the restaurant flared and popped with a sizzling spark. For the first time Lyla questioned if she was the one doing it. Her mother took Lyla’s ice cream and dropped both of their ice cream cones in the trash. Then she firmly grabbed Lyla by the shoulders and practically shoved her out into her car. Angrily Lyla fastened her seat belt, while her mother got in the driver’s seat. Her mother tapped a flashing “Home” key on the steering wheel and turned her attention on Lyla.

  “You need to calm yourself down!” Her mother stated firmly.

  Lyla nodded. Outside of the car, as they drove towards home, light bulbs exploded and energy poles sparked. Lyla had no doubt that if it had been after dark she would be leaving a trail of darkness behind her. She took several measured breaths, “Mom, what is happening.”

  “Sweetheart, you are coming to an age where you need more than an AI tutor,” Her mother stated, “I think, no I know you belong at Aspirations Academy. And honey you are starting this term,” Lyla’s mother answered then she sat back and crossed her arms. It seemed clear to Lyla that her mother wasn’t open to Lyla’s usual questions and discussions. Lyla kept quiet. She didn’t know when the sparks stopped falling behind their car but she did notice when they turned down the driveway to their farmhouse. Lyla’s father stood on the front porch waiting.

  In unison, Lyla’s parents sent her up to pack her personal items. Lyla obediently shuffled up the stairs. She went to her room and lay down with her ear to the floor vent.

  “Imhay you aren’t able to suppress her abilities any longer are you.” Lyla’s mother stated plainly.

  Her father scoffed, “No, she is very close to having a major metamorphosis. Like I told you, she knew you were coming the minute you decided!”

  “Then now is the time. We are sending her in the morning,” Lyla could hear her mother pacing from the squeaks and creaks of the kitchen flooring. Lyla felt sad that her mother hadn’t spent enough time in the house to know where to step to keep the floor from creaking.

  “Give her the rest of the weekend to spend with you.

  Her mother sighed heavily, “Imhay, I’m sorry work called and I have to leave tomorrow morning anyway.”

  “Really? You barely got in today! Are you sure you don’t want to ship her off tonight?” Lyla’s father growled.

  Her mother sighed again and Lyla heard the sound of her mother’s arms dropping to her side, “When she leaves you can join me in the apartment again.”

  “Oh so you warehouse our daughter and it is business as usual!”

  Lyla’s mother raised her voice, “You know why I don’t want word to get out about her!”

  “You know you aren’t treating her any better than your parents treated you,” Lyla didn’t need to see her father to know his hands were on his hips and a strict look was fastened on his face.

  “Do not compare me to them. The situation is totally different,” Her mother’s tone was partially moderated.

  “Is it?”

  “My parents were not dealing with half of what I have on my plate! I don’t let people know about her to keep HER safe!” Her mother emphasized the word “her.”

  “That may be, but how did you feel about being overprotected? What did that ultimately chase you into doing?”

  Lyla’s pin squawked again. “She is going to that school!” Lyla’s mother stomped out of the house.

  Lyla didn’t hear anything for a minute, then she heard her father speaking softly through the vent, “Lyla get your ear off of the vent and start packing. This is not an argument we can win.”

  - - - - - - -

  Faith repeatedly scrawled her name across her journal pages, “Faith Harvey-Kindel.” She hated her name. It seemed like a curse. Out in the new omniverse there was every chance it would be when it came down to it. Her mother, Miranda Harvey, had gone as dark as they came. Her mother was now literally one of the sources of evil in the omn
iverse. Her mother was The Darkone, well one of them. She had inherited her title from The Darkone that survived the end of the last omniverse. Faith scratched out her name until three or four pages beneath it were ripped by the pen nib.

  Faith glared at herself in her closet mirror. She had her mother’s face, but her father’s blonde hair. Before her mother defected from the factors and fled The Preserve, Faith’s hair had begun to shade from her mother’s chestnut waves to ruler straight blonde locks. That was the only reason she could stand looking at herself. Her mother had abandoned Faith shortly before Faith began the painful and traumatizing process of rapid maturation adolescent briaunti went through to become fully mature adults. It was called a metamorphosis, and represented the last step forward into full independence for briaunti, but for Faith it had been a step backward. She hadn’t left her bedroom in her parent’s apartment since returning from the medical center.

  Her father was traumatized by Miranda’s defection too. He was suffering the effects of an unrequited pairbond. He was physically, emotionally, and telepathically addicted to Faith’s mother. Without Miranda he was barely a shadow of himself. That made his sudden appearance at Faith’s open bedroom door a real surprise. “Faith, we need to talk.”

  Faith threw down her journal and stood, “What is there to talk about? My last name is more linked to treachery than Benedict Arnold’s. My life is over! I would rather be Adolf Hitler’s daughter!” Faith dramatically threw herself down on the bed. She knew it was an adolescent display, but she had only physically matured during her metamorphosis. Somehow the ancestral memories which should have given her a more adult perspective hadn’t been forthcoming.

  “Faith, honey, at least your mother showed you enough mercy to change her name. She calls herself Mira Black now,” Faith’s father sat on the edge of her bed.

  “That is outside in the new omniverse. In the Preserve she is still Miranda Harvey!”

  Her father sighed, “Love, that name is tied as much to the enormous good she did as a factor as it is to her defection. I don’t think your mother became the representation of evil voluntarily, and I don’t think anybody else thinks that.”

  “Then your telepathy is lacking dad. I can feel their hatred every time they pass our apartment!” Faith roared. Then she rolled into a sitting position. She wasn’t mad at him, why was she attacking him.

  “I know, but… If you want to change your name you can, but I want you to get out of the house. Do something. Do anything!”

  Faith made her face a picture of contrition, “I am sorry dad. What, other than my atrocious behavior, were you coming in here to talk about?”

  Her father scrubbed the full beard, he had grown since her mother left, with his hands, “I am not oblivious Faith. I know your mother really betrayed you, and that you think she ruined your chances of having any positive relationships. That is why I looked into a school you might want to consider. Aspirations Academy has a policy of anonymity. Every student is instructed to choose a pseudonym. That way the successes and failures of their parents do not affect their educational performance negatively.”

  Faith eyed him, “So I could be Faith Smith?”

  “Honey, you could rock one name like Madonna or Cher do,” Her father smiled

  “Who is Madonna? Or Cher?” Faith asked, of course she knew who they were, she was just making a jab at her father. Sometimes he forgot she hadn’t been raised on a twentieth century earth. Her father briefly looked startled until he realized her joke. “Dad, is it a graduate school or what?”

  “Well, it is for young people. Most of them haven’t metamorphosed by the time of their entry...”

  “So I will stick out like a sore thumb?” Faith sighed. She didn’t want to be singled out by what people would perceive her age to be. Even for a briaunti, Faith was young to be so physically mature. Most fully mature briaunti were eleven to fourteen before they metamorphosed. Faith had grown up to adolescence in around four years. She hadn’t even celebrated her fifth birthday yet.

  “Not for long, most of the students will probably be mature by the end of the first or second year,” Her father reassured.

  “One or two years? That is forever! That is almost as long as I have been alive!” Faith shouted.

  “Now, you’re exaggerating just a bit dear,” Her father commented, “Yes, I think your maturity will be a talking point, but only because you will be able to explain to the other briaunti what to expect.”

  “Are they all briaunti? Dad, I am a weirdo even for a briaunti!”

  “Honey, there are representatives of most every extra-human race living in The Preserve, plus non-hominids like razorwolves and AIs,” Her father was beginning to sound like a brochure.

  “I did write the brochure for the school...” Her father replied.

  “You are picking around in my head! That is an invasion of privacy!” Faith roared. It was out of fear of what else he might find rattling around in there.

  “I am sorry, Honey, but I am worried about you. You don’t have any friends!”

  Faith smiled falsely, “I can’t help it if I grew out of them too fast. That is the fault of your genes, or mom’s or both!”

  “You need some social interaction. I am afraid I have to put my foot down. You will either go to this school and become a well-balanced social adult, or you can find an apartment on whatever allotment you can negotiate for yourself. I won’t go to bat for you with the housing coordinators.”

  The idea of leaving her room and meeting new people terrified Faith, almost as much as the idea she could end up like her mother. Her father just made it clear she would have to do it one way or the other, with his support or without… “What do I need to pack for this dumb school?” As soon as she asked it she hesitated, maybe minimal allotment quarters wouldn’t be so bad...

  “Honey, I think you need to put yourself out there… this is not healthy,” Her father commented clearly sensing her wavering attitude.

  Faith clamped down on her thoughts and emotions, giving her father the equivalent of a telepathic brick wall. Her father threw up his hands and left the room. Faith sealed her bedroom door and chuckled ironically, “Not healthy?” If he only knew… It was good that briaunti healed rapidly and without scars. Faith rubbed her forearms. She pulled up the sleeves of her long sleeve shirt, fine pale pink lines crossed and recrossed on her forearms. Before she tore jaggedly at her name, she had taken her emotional pain out on herself.

  Faith thought about the ruby handled knife in its hiding place within the structure of her bed’s elaborate headboard. The thought was enough for it to materialize in her hands. She ran her finger along the razor-sharp edge, accidentally nicking her fingertip. The blood welled, she watched it bleed, but not for long. The tiny cut was healed before she could wipe the blood up. It didn’t ease her pain any. It didn’t stop the sensation that her world whirled wildly out of her control. She could control the blood. She could make it start and knew just when it would stop. Faith knew the pale pink traceries of today’s cuts would be gone by the evening meal. Until then she pulled her sleeves back down. She had some sense that her father would react badly to her self-destructive behavior. Really, he was rather lucky. In other times, on other worlds, other species would wallow in drugs and depravity when an individual felt the way she did. Faith just cut herself a bit. It didn’t really do any harm.

  Faith teleported the knife back to its hiding place and sat on the bed. She had been cutting herself since the portal to the new omniverse had opened. That was when her mother’s nightmares had begun. Because of her strong telepathic and empathic link to her mother, Faith had vividly experienced her mother’s dreams. In the nightmares her mother cut other people, and applied various other techniques of torture. The sight of blood in her mother’s dreams had intrigued Faith in a strangely compelling way. She felt the way her mother felt, the control and power as she cut those people. With a world spinning rapidly out of control, Faith had applied the lesson to hers
elf.

  Faith shuffled to her closet and pulled out a knapsack. She didn’t have many clothes and didn’t doubt they would be provided by the school or as a part of a minimal allotment. Faith shoved what she had in the, roomier than the outside, interior of the knapsack. Then she added the two pairs of shoes sitting on the closet floor. Then she removed one pair and put them on. Leave it to her to forget she needed something to wear out of the house. Faith enthusiastically went around her room sorting through her possessions.

  There was not much was age appropriate for a mature briaunti to bring. The teddy bear she had clung to for her first six months still comforted her at times, but what would other people think. Fully intending to replace the bear on the shelf, Faith tucked it in her knapsack. Most everything in the room was meant for a young child. As Faith had matured she had focused less and less on the material. Why should she since it would be a matter of months before she would be too “mature” for it? She didn’t even have any favorite clothes. She just grew out of them too quickly. Faith closed the knapsack and tied its drawstring. Most anything she needed she could probably order from a delivery cupboard when she got there. Wherever, there might be. Faith waved off the lights and stepped out into the hall for the first time in at least a month. Anxiety bombarded her from every cell of her body. She had no control out here. Her world had fallen apart out here. In her room she could still pretend things were as they should be; her mother still at her father’s side, not the main representation of evil.

  Outside of her heavily shielded room, Faith could sense the emotions of most of Sanctuary, instead of the occasional stab of hatred lobbed their way. Their thoughts weren’t quite as clear. It was easy for Faith’s mind to twist them to fit her paranoid certainty that everyone hated her because of what her mother had done. Harder to twist was the knowledge that there was love, happiness and peace among the emotions of Sanctuary. She dismissed them as illusions or delusions, her own or of the people she sensed. How could there be light and love when her mother had dragged Faith into such a dark place?