City of Braandurburg
Province of Tyrrslynd, Ottonia
February 12th, 2013It was the rattling that woke Erik up. It had roused him on Wednesday, and Tuesday, and Monday, and according to Bruni the weather girl, it was quite likely that it would do so on Friday, as well. He hauled his head off of the nearly-flattened pillow that he kept between his arm and his head at night. A glance at the old alarm clock sitting on his nightstand told him that he had actually slightly overslept. Odd. Perhaps he had forgotten to set the alarm last night? The gloomy clouds blotting out what would have already been faint early morning sun certainly had not helped.
He levered himself out of the little twin bed that took up maybe a third of the room and staggered over to the lone window out of this corner of the apartment. As the rattling had already told him, it was raining steadily, rustling onto the street, plopping against asphalt muffling all other noise over the not-quite-awakened city. Groaning, Erik turned and ambled over to the door to his room. Still groggy, he fumbled with the dented and pitted knob before he managed to twist it, simultaneously leaning into the door shoulder-first. The door swung open and he stumbled as his weight went out from under him, having to basically run to get his feet back under him. The fall-run took him the roughly fifteen feet between his door and the kitchen that formed the center of the apartment.
He was not the first to arrive; his parents, both already dressed for work, were sitting at a plain wooden table barely large enough to fit four people without them tripping over each other. His sister Haley, three years his junior, was still standing, and was clearly finishing a short trip to a worn wooden cabinet to grab salt and pepper shakers. Haley was only a few inches shorter than Erik, despite the age gap, and her hair, the same shade of brown as his, was only a few inches longer. Before they’d hit puberty, the only way to tell them apart had been their relative age; they looked surprisingly alike for non-twins, even for siblings.
He drew some small relief from the fact that she was also still in her pajamas, a pair of loose, plaid sweatpants and a tee-shirt. So at least he was not
that late rising. Still, it was enough that his father, already dressed for his shift as a bus driver, gave him a small smile and said “Glad you’ve decided to join us.” Erik sighed lightly.
“Sorry, Dad,” he said. “I’ll make sure my alarm is actually set next time.” His father nodded, giving his son a reassuring smile that showed off less-than-perfect, if more-or-less straight teeth. “Also, good morning.”
“I know you will. After all, it’s your turn to cook breakfast tomorrow,” he added, teasing.
“Fred, don’t be a jerk. Come on, sit down. There’s enough scramble left,” his mother shot back, prompting Erik to walk over to the table, taking the last remaining spot, at the long side of the table opposite from his sister. His father and mother occupied the two heads of the table, such as they were, and there was enough room, if everyone squished, to put two more people at the table, one on each long side. Erik looked at the plates and bowls on the table, making note of the morning’s menu.
“Hey, honey, are you going to be able to go to the post office before you head home today?” Jenna asked Fred. Fred nodded back. “Would you be able to deposit those checks on the counter when you do?” Another nod. “Thanks.”
Sure enough, the centerpiece was a scramble, common enough across Allamunnika. This particular one had the requisite scrambled eggs (Erik would estimate three or four, at most), mixed up with slices of corned beef and sliced potatoes. They had been combined with pieces of onion and tomato, along with a sprinkle of cheese, making for a pretty good mixed dish that stretched out several ingredients for a fairly large portion. A few apples had been cored and sliced, as well, to help add a little more sweetness to the morning spread. Erik knew that, according to the rotation they had used to split chores since he, and then his sister, had hit secondary school, that it had been his parent’s turn to make breakfast, and, as usual, the results were delicious, even given the limitations they were under.
Erik took the serving spoon and loaded two spoonful’s, one entirely full, the other only halfway full, onto his plate. He picked up his fork and knife and tucked in, pulling a forkful up to his mouth. The scramble had the right combination of salt and umami flavors, cut by the acid and cleaner flavors of the vegetables, all given some satisfying weight by the potatoes.
Erik looked over to his mother, who was also already dressed for work. She had recently taken a secretarial job at one of the logistics companies in town. The intent was to give the family more disposable income, and, ultimately, to give the Baeryng parents some extra money to pad their retirement allotment. Although Fred, their father, had been able to support the family during Erik and Haley’s childhoods based on his pay from the city, combined with child stipends, there had been times when funds had gotten a little tight; the family had never faced eviction or real hunger, but there were a few times where the margin for error had gotten rather thin. Things were definitely better now that neither parent had to supervise their now-teenage children.
The two parents could not have looked more typically-Ottonian if they had tried. Both had moderately-hued brown hair (Fred’s was darker, although dabbled with salt, whereas Jenna’s was more of a proper chestnut), and they were both within their sexes’ respective average heights, with Fred standing around 173 centimeters and Jenna at about 164. Fred was fairly slender, but had developed a bit of a gut over the last decade or so, and Jenna had once had a medium build that had plumped with age. Fred was just over 40, and Jenna was a year younger, but the strains of parenthood had aged them somewhat prematurely; neither had the burned out look sometimes seen among the hardest living, but neither would they be confused with their wedding photos, either, each looking close to half a decade older than they really were.
Still, Erik had always noticed they smiled easily enough, and today was no exception. Sipping her coffee (instant powder scooped into hot milk, most likely), eyes fixed on the newspaper they still got delivered to their door every morning. She looked up when Erik started eating, giving a small smile at their eldest child’s voracious chomping.
The two had grown up in a smaller town on the Tyrrslynd plains, and some of their practices and expectations had clearly not changed. Erik was reminded of that when his mother spoke, humor in her voice. “You know, I talked to Maddie Kaarlsunn’s mother yesterday…” Haley tried very hard not to start laughing, and Erik rolled his eyes and sighed. He strongly suspected that his mother kept trying to play matchmaker for her kids at least partially in an elaborate attempt to embarrass them, a conclusion only strengthened by the amused smile she gave as she looked at Erik.
Still, there was
some seriousness to the attempts; it was how Fred and Jenna had met, after all, introduced by their parents trying to get them hitched. “You know she wouldn’t mind in the slightest if you called on her.”
“Mum, do we seriously have to talk about this? Now, at the least?” She laughed in response, shaking her head. Erik resumed eating, respite earned. With some amusement, he watched as his mother turned her attention to Haley.
“As for
you,” she said, her smile losing some of its whimsical nature, “make sure you actually sign up for extracurriculars.” Haley looked alarmed, freezing mid-bite, while Erik smiled. “I’m serious. Evaluation boards look at those when determining placements. You don’t want to end up like your brother, right? All set up for conscription?” Erik’s smile vanished almost at once.
In fairness to Haley, Erik thought, a lack of extracurricular or club activities would not necessarily consign someone to conscription. With some guilt, he considered that his prospective placement had more to do with his lackluster academic performance over his secondary school career. Try as he might over the years, Erik just had not been able to muster up enough care to really apply himself to his studies, and he could not honestly say that the prospect of getting conscripted into national service bothered him.
“Not to worry, Mum, I’ve been talking to the recruitment chair for the Future Engineers Society,” she answered hurriedly, trying to quell their mother. “And the student organization fair is next week. I’ve got a list and everything.” Assuaged, Jenna nodded, standing up and taking her clean plate to the sink. She was joined moments later by Fred, who added his own plate to the sink.
“Make sure to do the dishes before you two head to school, okay?” Fred told them as he and Jenna walked back to their room to finish their preparations for work. “Do you two want anything specific for dinner tonight?” Both Haley and Erik shook their heads, and with that, their parents left the room.
“Thanks for nothing,” Haley said almost immediately to Erik, more than a little grumpy. “Way to throw me under the bus.”
“Oh come on,” Erik shot back between mouthfuls. “Mum has more than enough disappointment to go around. It’s not as if that got her off my back anyway.” As he scraped the last morsels off his plate, he turned his attention to the next order of business. “So are you okay with doing the dishes while I make our lunches?”
Haley shrugged. “Yeah, that’s fine. What are you going to make?” She grabbed both Erik’s plate and her own, along with their forks and took them over to the single-bay sink, while her brother walked over to the fridge, grabbing a cutting board out of a drawer on the way.
Erik pulled a loaf of bread from out of the pantry, and from the fridge, a plastic container of chicken salad that had been made the previous day, a bag holding the slices of a tomato, and another holding some separated leaves of lettuce, along with a jar of mayonnaise. The dark whole-wheat bread formed the foundation of the four chicken-salad sandwiches that Erik assembled while Haley scrubbed at the four plates with a sponge, scraping away the remains of their food with the rough side of the sponge before rinsing them in hot water.
The sandwiches done, Erik filled five mugs, four with water, one with milk, and placed them one after another into the family’s microwave. The thing was a few years old, so it took a little longer to warm up, but Erik was able to allocate the cook time appropriately to heat the water. When the microwave beeped, he fetched all of the mugs out, adding the appropriate measure of instant coffee to them. Stirring them one after another, he watched as all three mugs’ contents turned a nutty brown color, and, that done, he poured the water-based brews into small thermoses. Erik took a breather, sipping the one he had made with hot milk, getting his caffeine kick for the day. When Haley stepped away from the sink, he took the opportunity to juggle his coffee with washing up four apples, setting them with the growing lunches.
Finally, he grabbed a package of potato crisps for each of them, relatively small “snack”-sized packages, as well as grabbing the necessary reusable coldpacks for each box. Haley had since finished the dishes and had run off to the bathroom that the siblings shared to begin washing up. As Erik finished packing their modest lunches into rigid plastic lunchboxes, he heard the water in the shower start running. Seeing as he would need to wait for Haley to finish before he could wash up, Erik also grabbed four refillable water bottles, filling each one at the sink tap before capping them and placing each one next to a lunch box. His work done, Erik walked to the hallway, calling to his parents.
“Going to get dressed. Lunches are on the table. Have a good day!” With that, he walked over to the shared bathroom, popping the door slightly open, reaching in towards the countertop near the door, grabbing a tube of toothpaste, along with his toothbrush, off of the counter. He withdrew without ever having looked into the room, shutting the door behind him, and then returning to the kitchen. He wet his toothbrush, spread a small measure of toothpaste onto it, and began to brush his teeth, taking time to reach every part of his mouth; he had had a few cavities filled before, and he had no desire to repeat the experience. During the process, he heard the bathroom door open. His sister was fairly quick in the shower, thankfully, so he would be able to wash once he finished brushing.
After he spat out the remnants of the toothpaste into the sink, rinsing the sink and his mouth with a cupped hand of water, he walked over to the bathroom, leaving his toothbrush and toothpaste, before ducking into his room. He quickly pulled off his pajamas, wrapping a towel around his waist, grabbing a washcloth, and returning to the now-vacant bathroom. He closed the door behind him, noticing as he did that his sister had done the same thing he had, taking her toothbrush and the toothpaste to the kitchen. He hung his towel on a towel rack bolted to the wall, tossed his washcloth into the shower. Before stepping into the shower, he made a point of utilizing the toilet ahead of the shower. He closed his eyes, braced, and, when he had finished, pushed the button that used a cold shot of water to help clean up the results of that detour.
With that, he stepped into the tub which had had the shower head built onto it, pulling the curtain closed behind him and turning the nozzle, eyes closed, braced for a shock of cold water; the water coming out the shower tap invariably would start off cold, and Erik never used it long enough for it to get hot. He spun around under the cold torrent, wetting himself and the washcloth, before shutting off the faucet. He grabbed a bar of soap, rubbing it inside the washcloth to lather it up before replacing the bar in a plastic tray attached to the wall. Using the cloth, Erik scrubbed and cleaned his body, making sure to hit every area he could readily reach before dropping the washcloth on the floor of the tub. He squirted a small dab of shampoo into his hand, rubbing it through his wet hair, making a point of keeping the lather out of his eyes. When he had cleaned to his satisfaction, he braced himself again and turned the tap nob again, dousing himself with water once more. He rinsed himself as quickly as he reasonable could while still removing the soap from his body, then quickly shut the water off, stepping out of the shower and grabbing his towel. He hung the now rinsed washcloth on a drying rack, and toweled off, before wrapping his lower half in the towel and quickly returning to his room, damp feet sliding slightly on the tile floor in the hallway.
Like most high school students in Allamunnika, Erik had to wear a uniform to classes. It was a simple enough uniform, essentially business wear, consisting of a pair of charcoal-gray slacks, a gray shirt, a dark green jacket or (as Erik had opted for) sweater-vest, and a dark green-and-gray diagonally-striped tie. As he did his tie in a half-windsor knot, Erik realized he had neglected to scrape the scraggly stubble that passed for a high schooler’s beard that morning and sighed. There was nothing for it now, he did not have time to go shave it now, but he was sure he would get called out for his unkemptness. With a sigh, he pulled on his shoes and tied up his laces, grabbing his messenger bag and stepping out of his room.
He walked down the hall, shoes thudding on the tile, and walked to the kitchen. Two of the lunchboxes he had prepared were gone, indicating that their parents had gone to work, and Haley was waiting for him. During the colder months, the women’s uniform for their school was similar to the male uniform; a jacket, shirt, and tie or neck bow in similar color scheme, with either pants or a longer skirt. Haley had opted for the pants, making her outfit virtually the same as Erik’s. She had a shoulder-hung totebag sitting on the ground next to where she stood, waiting, which she used in place of a backpack. As he entered, she was placing the third of the lunchboxes into her bag.
“All ready to head out?” she asked as he placed the last lunchbox in his bag. Erik nodded in reply. “Great.” Almost instantly, Haley was at the door to the family’s flat, clearly ready to get a move on. She pushed open the door (a fairly heavy, steel utilitarian thing, about as old as the rest of the building), holding it open for Erik. Once he had crossed the threshold, they allowed it to fall shut, and Erik, pulling a spare housekey out of his pocket, locked the deadbolt on the door.
The hallway they walked out into was spare, floored with plain tile, and with plain, off-white-painted cinderblock walls, combined with fluorescent, plastic-covered light fixtures on the fairly-low ceiling. The hallway looked like it could reasonably be hosed out if it needed cleaning, with light only coming in from windows at each end of the hall. Erik and Haley walked over to a central stairwell and began the five-story trek down to street level. The stairwell had the same off-white painted cinderblock walls, and plain metal stairs had been covered with rubber covers to help traction when wet. Their footfalls echoed through the stairwell as the brother and sister walked down at a steady pace.
They reached the street-level door out of the stairwell, another heavy steel door with a small window reinforced with what appeared to be a steel lattice. Erik hauled the door open, holding it for Haley before following her out into the apartment building lobby. The lobby had a front desk, behind which were the postal boxes for the various tenants. An elderly receptionist sat at the desk, who looked like he had been born somewhere in Scipia, nodded in acknowledgement at Erik and Haley as they walked toward the door. They returned the gesture, and then pushed open the building’s front door, beginning their commute in earnest.
Sure enough, it was raining, and it had been for some time. The street had settled into a soaked, rather than simply rain-slicked state, and the gloom was cut only by the still-lit street lights. As soon as they stepped out, they both pulled out personal umbrellas, deploying them almost immediately. They began walking south from the apartment building, along streets that were already reasonably crowded, making their way towards the train station.
As they walked, they started to be joined in their procession by a handful of other teenagers wearing similar uniforms. As they traveled the six blocks between the apartment building and the station, the knot of students passed by a number of similar apartments, most of which were refurbished buildings that had first been built in the large wave of post-war construction in the late 1940’s and early 1950’s. There were businesses situated in the bottom floors of several of the buildings and in other street-front slots, mostly stores of various kinds; a budget grocer here, a convenience store there, here a walk-in clinic, and there a family-owned drugstore. Many of them were just starting their own days; in the windows, people were clearly moving around, even if it would be another 30 or 40 minutes for most of them before they officially opened for the morning.
Other storefronts were already humming with their early morning rushes. There were two hole-in-the-wall diners that had been open, as far as Erik knew, all night long, catering to the night shifters, the drunks, and the heartbroken, plying them with greasy food that calmed the soul and filled the stomach. There was also the neighborhood’s post office, a florist, and a bookstore, all preparing for their days on that rain-soaked morning. The rain conferred a certain silence over what might have normally been a louder morning commute, but nobody seemed inclined to stop and talk. The area only rarely had panhandlers, and sure enough they were nowhere to be found that morning as they approached the station.
The station itself was an unimpressive bit of utilitarian architecture, practically a concrete bunker with ramps leading down into the bowels of the station. On the top of the station was the platform, connected by rails set on an elevated track platform. A black sign with white letters announced that this was the Edelstun station of the Unified Rail System of Andersburg & Braandurburg. Erik and Haley walked into the station, folding up their umbrellas once they were under the safe haven of the station’s roof.
They walked along the burnt orange of the hexagonal floor-tiles found throughout the URSAB system, slick with tracked-in water, past the boxy fare-card terminals, several of which had lines forming at them. Mercifully, both Erik and Haley were on the special student fare plan, in which they were able to pay for an entire month’s worth of two fares per day in advance, so they were able to pull their Regular Trip Cards (RTCs) out to scan at the turnstiles, allowing them through smoothly, with only a minor snarl prompted by some out-of-towner who had never used the system before.
Probably some Ghantish businessman, Erik thought sourly.
Once they were through the bare stainless-steel turnstiles, they were presented with options for getting topside to the train platform proper. Off to one side, there was an elevator, but it was encouraged that passengers refrain from using it so that it would be more readily available for the mobility-impaired riders. Otherwise, there was a pair of escalators, one moving up, one moving down, along with a pair of central staircases, ostensibly in the same configuration. In practice, the staircases wound up a bit messier with people moving upward and downward on both, but for the most part things moved smoothly even there.
The siblings opted for the escalator, staying to the left side and walking up in the continuous string of people doing the same. They made sure to keep moving; people tended to become vocally annoyed when the flow of traffic on the left side of an escalator was obstructed. In less than a minute (probably closer to thirty seconds), the two were up on the platform, waiting for an eastbound train. A light-up signboard informed them that the next train was about three minutes away, and Erik felt that that was likely accurate; you couldn’t quite set your watch by North Ottonian trains, but they were certainly more reliable than Rezese trains (or at least more reliable than Allamunnae thought Rezese trains were).
While the two siblings stood on the platform, listening to the rain thump onto the roof erected over the platform, that platform steadily filled with people. It was not long before the low hum of conversation between friends and acquaintances began to fill the sodden morning air.
It only took a minute before familiar faces found them. At first, Erik did not notice the close approach, as packed as the platform was; the feeling of having people near at hand was fairly routine, even outside of rush hour train stations. But then there was a hand on his shoulder, and a presence at his left, almost shoulder-to-shoulder.
“Erik!” exclaimed a taller, blond-haired boy. He was wearing the same uniform as Erik, but was about a head taller, and definitely more muscular. There was a bright cheer in his blue-green eyes that seemed quite at odds with the weather, enhanced further by the cheerful smile plastered across his face. “Another fine morning, wouldn’t you say? Oh, hey, Haley.” Just as evident as his good humor was the sarcasm in his voice; clearly even he was not thrilled with Tyrrslynd’s nigh-ubiquitous rain.
“Morning, Wen,” Erik replied, his mood picking up slightly. “You’re sure cheerful. Is the weather any better up there?” Wen snorted a half-laugh.
“Screw you, shrimp,” Wen fired back, still laughing. “You forget that work-outs start today? Gotta get ready for the season!” Erik’s eyes widened. He had forgotten that workouts for the school’s gridiron club started that day. Wen noticed and laughed again. “You
did forget, didn’t you?” Erik nodded back. He didn’t quite have his friend’s enthusiasm for the thing, although the news did make him somewhat happy; Erik liked gridiron, but Wendell Foster was considered a pretty high-ranked prospect, and there was a good chance he would get a developmental league contract once they graduated. Erik, far scrawnier, had little hope of continuing to play beyond secondary school.
Out of the corner of his eye, Erik noticed that Haley had found some of her own friends, and they had formed their own small knot of people, slowly drifting away from where Erik and Wen were standing. The gap where Haley had been was quickly occupied by other familiar faces. All of them were in the same uniform as Erik, Wen, and Haley, all clearly headed to the same place. The nearest announced her presence with a gentle prod to Erik’s arm. He looked over and did everything in his power to avoid turning red at the sight of the brown-eyed, slender, and rather pretty brunette looking up at him. “Heya,” she said, making eye contact.
Madeline Kaarlsunn (usually going by “Maddie”) had lived in the neighborhood for as long as Erik had, living in the next building over. They had been friends for as long as they could remember, and, truthfully, Erik rather liked her, platonically and otherwise. His resistance to their parents’ attempts to play matchmaker had more to do with resistance to parental interference than any issues with possibly dating Maddie. Of course, it was not going to go anywhere; Erik was likely to get conscripted at the end of the year, whereas Maddie was almost definitely university-bound. She had good things ahead of her, while Erik strongly-suspected he was destined to be nothing more than a drone.
Mercifully, she was getting the same pressure from the other side, and, while he was not able to conceal his embarrassment, it just caused her to chuckle. “Your parents give you a hard time this morning, too?” she asked. Erik nodded back weakly, and she laughed harder at that. “Same here.” They had bonded somewhat over the never-ending matchmaking attempts, which had been going on for the last two years, often trading horror stories of their awfully-embarrassing parents. It eased his embarrassment a little bit that she seemed to have some flushing in her face, as well, while discussing it.
Out past Maddie were two others. The nearer of the two was another boy, a few inches taller than Erik but even skinnier, with longer dark brown hair. He looked like he saw less sun than Erik and Wen, but he had a small smile on his face, talking to a girl just slightly shorter than he was, but with very similar facial features. The five of them would likely sit together on the train; while Joerg and Junna Groening were twins who usually stuck together (and the platform was not conducive to a five-person conversation), they had stuck close with their neighbors Erik, Wen, and Maddie.
A minute later, the train, a string of eight steel-gray cars, whooshed into the station. The process began when an overhead announcer informed the platform occupants that the 7:50 Eastbound I-line train was arriving, reminding them to step back and stay clear of the rails. There was a whine as the train decelerated coming into the station, before the first cars whipped past the would-be passengers, pushing a large mass of air down the line, blowing at clothes and hair.
After several long moments, the train came to a complete halt. A beep and a pleasant automated voice asked passengers to “step back, doors opening,” before directing new passengers to move towards the center of the train cars. Those on the platform waited a moment to allow the relative few people disembarking to get off the train before the filing onto the train began. Somehow, the students had managed to pick a spot right near one of the doors, so they were among the first ones on, staking out a position out of the way where all five of them could stand together. Erik saw Haley and her friends get into a different door to the same car as they piled in.
“Hey, Maddie, did you have trouble with the dub-en-el homework last night?” Wen asked, leaning against a wall and bracing rather than holding onto one of the vertical handrails. Erik experienced a minor pang of jealousy; Wendell usually asked
him for help with writing (or Writing & Literature, or W&L); it was one of the few academic areas Erik was naturally good with and, consequently, one of the few he cared about. As such, he suspected his friend’s question was less about the homework assignment in question.
“Yeah, actually, I did,” she said. “Actually, when we get to school, Erik, would you mind giving me a hand with it?” she asked, turning to him. “I want to make sure I’m understanding everything right.”
“Uhh, yeah, sure,” Erik said, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. He noticed Wen giving him a look as Maddie looked away from Wen. He was somewhat surprised that that gesture was a wink and a thumbs up.
Weird. What’s he playing at? Erik turned his attention back to the conversation at large. “Was it just the comprehension check? Cranking out a whole essay before class might be a little beyond my capabilities,” he asked with a chuckle. “How about you, Wen?”
Maddie laughed. “Yeah, yeah, just the comp check.” Wendell nodded, as well. “Relax, I wouldn’t ask you to help me write a whole essay.”
“Oh, well,
that’s good.
So glad I’m off
that hook,” Erik shot back. Maddie grinned in response and gave him a pat on the shoulder. Overhead, the automated announcer informed them that the next stop was coming up. On an emptier train, the PA would have echoed off the hard floors and sturdy plastic seats, but as it was, the number of people softened the noise. Everyone collectively leaned forward as the train decelerated, heading into the station, with a lurch back as it settled into a complete stop. The friendly chime was heard again as the automated PA directed the boarding procedures at this station, and the train grew more crowded as additional commuters piled in.
The students traded glances and began working their way closer to the door; they would need to disembark at the next station. Wendell, the biggest, led the way, slowly pushing towards a spot near the door. Maddie followed, with the silent Groening twins behind her, and Erik bringing up the rear. Once the train doors had closed, similar transitions were noticeable throughout the train, with most of the other commuters moving to accommodate; the disembarking students at the North Redden Street Station were part of the morning routine. About three minutes after the train lurched forward once more, it was grinding to a stop again. The students waited, primed for that same chime and, almost as soon as the doors slid open, poured off the train, taking almost a quarter of its occupants at the single station.
The North Redden station was bigger and busier than the Edelstun stop, being as it was closer in to Braandurburg’s denser core areas. Still, the five students, along with most of their classmates, were well-practiced in the fine art of navigating commuter crowds. Noticeably, at the larger station, with more potential hazards, and situated near a large school, there was a more salient security presence. There were of course the usual transit police, but this one also tended to have a modest Federal Guard presence. The crisply-uniformed Guardsmen stood out as islands of relative stillness in the swarm of humanity, blue armbands on their right sides indicating that, despite the crisp black coats and pants, that they were Federal Guardsmen rather than run-of-the-millCivil Guards. These ones notably carried handguns in secured holsters in addition to collapsible batons, where most transit police had to make do with simply a wooden or collapsible baton.
The students noticed those armbands and took a wider path to avoid them. All five had been raised with the principle that while the average Civil Guard was just a kid in a uniform, the Federal Guards were ‘professional’ goons and bullies. Though it had been nearly two decades since the Reformers had come to power, the idea that the Blue Arms were the long arm of Lord Jaal’s paranoia had proven pervasive and seemed to have permanently tarnished the Federal Guard’s reputation.
They made their way to the stairs off the platform, making sure to follow the signs to the Rigel Street exit to the station. The foot traffic flowed easily to the exits, and it was not hard to see that most of the outbound flow of people were wearing the same school uniforms, clearly headed to the same place. As they reached the exit to the station, they could see where the roof’s protection against the rain ceased. Reaching that threshold, Erik, Wen, and Junna all pulled out umbrellas, deploying their canopies as they stepped into the rain. Wen and Junna walked with Joerg between them, benefiting from the coverage of their umbrellas, with Erik to Wendell’s left. Maddie had wound up on the outside, huddling closer to Erik to stay under the canopy. After a moment’s attempt to walk like that, Erik indicated that she should walk between him and Wendell, where the umbrellas overlapped, allowing her to stay drier for the rest of the walk.
It took them about five minutes of walking from the station to reach the high school. It was mostly uphill (the school was inland from the coast and city center), but the slope was gentle enough that it did not present any real difficulty to students in decent physical condition. The walk was passed in amiable silence between the friends, focusing mostly on staying dry and getting out of the rain as quickly as reasonably possible. Here, there were more shopfronts and a few more office buildings, and the buildings were taller, giving the area a denser, more hemmed-in feel. A familiar sign hawked the services of the Bank of Tyrrslynd, while a painted advertisement on a brick wall encouraged the drowning of one’s cares in Welker’s brand beer.
Within about three minutes of the walk, Redden High School came into view. It was a somewhat blocky structure, about six stories high, dotted with windows at regular intervals all up and down its body. The building was a somewhat light gray, although it looked darker due to the prodigious cloud cover and rain darkening its exterior. It was not the most inviting structure anyone was likely to see, but its flowerbeds and the plants growing in boxes on the roof helped give it some small redeeming charm.
The doors, recessed under a canopy, were held open this morning to help students enter the school at a steady pace without pauses caused by doors opening or closing. The welcome mats were already waterlogged, but Erik, Wendell, Maddie, Joerg, and Junna all made at least some token efforts to dry the soles of their shoes off before moving further into the building. They mixed into the large flow of other students doing the same, entering the building, and then walking down the school’s main hallway.
They passed the administrative offices on their right and security offices on their left, taking a left at a split in the hallway and following a major hallway to a corner. The hallway split into upper and lower levels using staircases, going up to the classroom levels or down to the auditorium and gym levels. There were several rooms that branched off the hallway before the students reached a corner where the hallway turned sharply again. Following that new direction further, they came to a large indoor courtyard, where the building’s three floors were visible as railed-in walkways leading to other classrooms, all overlooking a central rectangular area, illuminated by a central skylight. The floor was the same white-with-black-speckle vinyl tile as was used in the hallway prior, but it was amazing the difference made, having it reflect natural light rather than the fluorescent light that had lit the hallway.
First thing for the morning would be a short homeroom period, which mostly existed for administrative and announcement purposes. Here, the Groening twins split from Erik, Wen, and Maddie. The home rooms were based on the home classroom assignments from lower secondary and primary school, part of an effort to keep children together once they had gone to school together most of their school careers.
The three of them walked towards a staircase, scaling it at a steady, slower pace, stopping at the second floor to wave and chat with some of their other classmates who were sitting against the railing, shooting the breeze while they waited for the day to begin. Throughout the indoor “courtyard” were small knots of students, either sitting on the floor or standing in small circles, talking to each other and catching up on all the happenings since the last time they had seen each other. Even those walking, like Erik, Wen, and Maddie, did so at a leisurely pace. The three of them turned and scaled the next staircase up to the third floor, the last one before the roof. They walked out of the courtyard, down the hall about thirty or forty meters, stopping by a trio of lockers.
Though there were ostensibly lockers for those who wanted them, lockers frequently went unused except for when there was a special need for one; on the average day, Erik and Wen only visited their lockers to grab their change of clothes before gridiron practice. As far as Erik knew, Maddie
never used hers at all. This was not a normal day, though. All three pulled their lockers open, setting their backpacks down and hanging their damp coats inside the lockers, eager to dry off. Their umbrellas joined the coats inside the tall, thin, rectangular lockers, along with a few other odds and ends from their bags in a bid to make them lighter. Closing the lockers, the three turned and walked only a few meters back up the hall, pulling open the door to a classroom.
Even though they had about ten minutes before the homeroom period was set to start, the room was already probably about two thirds of the way full. Seating was not assigned, but students had long since staked their claims to specific seats, and it was generally considered rude to take someone else’s usual spot. As a result, an L-shaped set of seats in roughly the middle of the classroom were open, since nobody had any reason to take Wendell, Erik, and Maddie’s usual spots. They wove through the desks and students, setting their packs on the ground next to their desks, as had most of the other students. Wen sat in front of Maddie, who sat side-by-side with Erik, allowing them a triangular alley of conversation.
Maddie leaned over and began rummaging through her bag, while Wen started doing the same. Erik, still a little groggy despite the commute, wondered why they were getting their stuff out; usually all that happened in home room was the anthem and morning announcements. While he zoned out, he idly watched them rummaging, noticing the way that Maddie’s hair, pulled into a longish ponytail, fell on her shoulder as she bent over, and the slender lines of her calves under her tights, visible where her dark green skirt ended around her knees. He pointedly looked away as he realized what he was doing, just as Maddie pulled a binder out of her bag and set it on her desk, flipping the three-ring binder open and leafing through a series of notebook pages that had been placed inside. “Alright, so about that W&L homework…”
“Oh, right,” Erik suddenly comprehended, and moved to fish his binder out of his own bag, avoiding eye-contact with Maddie and deliberately ignoring the satisfied smirk that Wendell had started giving him when he had noticed what was going on. He flipped open the binder, finding the sheet of paper inside a designated Writing & Lit section that he had set aside. He confirmed the date on the paper where he had copied the reading comprehension questions and recorded his responses to them. “So, where were you having trouble?” The three of them scooted their desks together.
“Well, you know how Ms. Kaaldur wanted us to interpret that dream that Mjor has in chapter eight?” Erik nodded at the prompt. “Well, I read those pages like eight times last night, and I did not get it. Just, could not tell what was going on,” Maddie explained. “You’re good with this stuff – what the heck is going on there?”
“Okay, well obviously, it’s supposed to be allegorical…”
“Well, okay, I figured
that part out, otherwise the whole passage doesn’t make any sense,” Maddie shot back.
“
Anyway,” Erik continued over her retort, “so what the author is trying to show is…” It took Erik almost a full minute to explain the scene in question to Maddie and Wen, and almost another to unwrap the layers of metaphor involved in the thing. Still, he was heartened to see the comprehension dawn on their faces as things clicked into place. As he wrapped up the explanation, Wendell started writing, and Maddie started moments later.
“Dude, has anyone ever told you that you should be a teacher?” Wendell asked. “I don’t know how you manage to figure this stuff out well enough to explain to dummies like me, but that shit’s a gift.”
“Actually, yes,” Erik replied. “Sadly, grades and eval boards say otherwise, though, and those are what matter. Not rich enough for private school, don’t have the placement for public.” He shrugged. “It’s okay, though. Service Corps’ not too bad.”
Maddie looked up from her writing. “So that’s it? You’re enlisting after graduation?”
“Probably, I guess. I’m not sure what else I could do. I’m not sure I’m going to be able to find a job before I get conscripted anyway. Might as well go in on my own terms, choose my service, that kind of thing.” He shrugged. “You know what Unis you’re getting as options?” Maddie shook her head.
“Not yet. That’s probably going to come some time during summer term, Mum says. Then the list gets narrowed after that one, based on grades. They have to wait; people have slacked off before and screwed up their placements because they thought they had everything locked up. So I can’t let up yet,” she explained. “Fingers crossed, Leifspurt and Innusburg will be on there, I hope. Their psych programs are some of the best. I’ve already accepted that I’m not going to get into Federal.”
“You all aren’t even going to ask?” Wendell said with a chuckle, more a statement than a question.
“Oh, like we don’t all know you’re going to get a developmental contract,” Erik said with a laugh. “It’s just a question of where. I mean, it’s not like you’re not half the reason the club gets AGA funding. Speaking of,
have you been hearing from any dev teams?”
Here, Wen beamed. “Yeeup. Already heard from Blumingtun and the Triple City teams. No solid offers yet, but they’re feeling me out. Asking for game tape. The last AGA evaluator that came by estimated me as being either a high Tier 3 or a low Tier 2 grade, so that’s usually a good sign. The final grades should be out by April, right before the season starts.”
“Shit, nice!” Erik said. “Did they say what any of the rest of our grades were?” he asked. Wen looked a little embarrassed.
“Don’t get mad, but… I think what the evaluator said when I asked about yours was ‘Oh, the scrawny slot-out? A 5, if he’s lucky.’” Erik just laughed at that.
“That’s pretty much what I expected, no worries.” Erik was not bad by high school club standards, but he knew he was nowhere near the standards needed to land a developmental contract with any hope of making a career out of things.
It was around this point that their homeroom teacher entered the room. Mikel Ordon was a younger math teacher, well-liked by his students for an enthusiastic demeanor, even if it also prompted its share of (mostly good-natured) jokes. It did not hurt that he was a youthful, clean-cut young man who clearly took care of himself, which meant that several of the female students (and about as many male students as one might expect) were fond of him for reasons beyond his teaching style. His blue eyes seemed far brighter than the morning called for, especially because the rain had turned his usually-golden hair a sodden light brown. He had a light blue shirt, a dark pair of slacks, and a green tie on, standing in a pair of black blucher-style shoes.
“Good morning, everyone,” he said. “I hope we’re all ready to start another big week. I especially hope the rain doesn’t have you all feeling
wishy-washy,” he continued with a grin. There were a few groans from the students. He sat down at a table in the front of the room, looking out over the 40ish students that he administered during the brief period. “So, how was everybody’s weekends?” There were some mutterings among the students, but it was mostly unintelligible. “Come on, anyone do anything fun?” One hand went up. “Yes, Eddie?”
Eddie, a heavyset boy with dark hair and dark eyes, spoke up. “I went to a concert on Saturday.”
“That sounds pretty fun,” Mr. Ordon replied. “Who did you see play?”
“My friend’s band. They’re called Old Shoe. They played in a park for a community festival.” Eddie had broken the spell. Several other hands went up once he finished. A few other students shared their weekend activities (Stasia had gone for a hike out in the countryside, Vik had been fishing down by the sea with his father, Ana had gone to a bridal shower for her sister, and so on) before a series of beeps announced the official beginning of the school day. There were the sounds of chairs scraping the floor and the rustle of movement as everyone stood simultaneously. Those still not fully roused from sleep were jolted by the soaring opening bars of
“Onward, Allamunnika!” A few students put their fists over their left pectoral and faced the Federal flag hanging from the wall, while most simply stood quietly. After about a minute, the song ended, and the class sat down.
Mr. Ordon walked over to the wall and switched on a television mounted to a wall bracket. After a brief fiddle with the channels, the image of two students, one male and one female, sitting at a desk in a style reminiscent of news anchors. “Good morning, Redden,” the boy said. “I’m Rik Joral.” The girl then spoke up, adding “and I’m Sara Riktur, and these are your morning announcements!” The two did not
quite have the pep of paid professionals, but they were giving it a respectable effort for unpaid high schoolers as they ran down the list of things that Redden Senior High School’s students and faculty needed to know for their day.
For the most part, it was a matter of extracurricular events and activities (“All are reminded that the Student Organization Fair is next Monday, so all organizations and prospective members should mark their calendars!” Sara reminded everyone; “Remember that the Spring Talent Show will be taking place on February 18th. Come out and support your classmates!” Rik said), the odd administrative announcement (“Library staff is asking that any students wishing to make use of the inter-library loan program make any requests at least one full week in advance of the date the item is needed,” Rik informed the students). Finally, there were recreational events addressed ("The Spring Social will be held at 7:00pm on March 20th, so make sure you make arrangements with any special people in advance," Sara said with a wink). The announcements ran for about eight minutes before they finally started wrapping things up.
“And as always, Redden, make it a great day, or not, the choice is yours!” Rik said cheerfully to the camera, supplementing it with some impromptu finger guns, prompting some chuckles, before the broadcast cut out.
With that, the students in the room started gathering up their belongs. Those who had pulled out their binders stashed them back in their bags, in anticipation of the bell that would announce the end of the class period. “Alright, everyone, have a great rest of the day,” Mr. Ordon told the class. Moments later, the bell rang, and the students rose almost in unison, moving towards the door, and the school day had truly begun.