Conduition - Chapter 2
Knock knock knock.
Sylvia’s heart jumped, a sudden burst of energy flooding into her as she leapt up in her bed, throwing her comforter off the side. “Y-yes? Oh, um… Door, unlock.”
With a small chime, the door opened ever so slightly, letting a thin stream of light in through the crack. “Sylvia?” came a gentle, old man’s voice through the opening.
Sylvia’s heart was still beating, but it started to steady as she sat up. “Professor Aydl? Um, come in… Turn on the light.”
Her face was dry and sore, but she couldn’t stop rubbing it. The corners of her eyes, especially.
The door opened slowly, revealing the form of a middle-aged man, with softly combed grey-brown hair, a blue sweater vest, and a white undershirt. Tan slacks covered his legs. Unlike what his smile marks might suggest, he was frowning.
He flicked the light on, and Sylvia flinched. “You didn’t come to my class today. I got worried something might have happened to you.”
A pang of guilt got stuck in her throat like a golf ball.
Sylvia looked up at him, squinting through the light, as he stood in the middle of her room. “Professor Aydl… Everything is okay.”
He frowned.
“May I sit down?”
Sylvia’s heart sunk. “I-if you want to.”
He took a seat on the bed next to her. “You don’t need to hide anything, Miss Enisa. I can tell you’re upset by something.”
Leaning forward, he turned to look at her, a gentle smile on his face. “I suspect it has to do with the meeting you had with Headmaster Tole earlier. Am I wrong?”
Sylvia looked down, away from Professor Aydl. “You don’t need to put yourself out for me. You have better things to do with your time.”
A hand gently touched her shoulder. It was warm. Her mind wanted to push the warmth away, letting her body succumb to the icy cold instead. “Sylvia, I want you to understand one thing. I didn’t decide to be a professor here to help students who don’t need it. That would be ridiculous.”
Sylvia looked up at Professor Aydl, frowning. The hand on her shoulder felt like it was miles away. Professor Aydl kept smiling. “I came here to help students like you. But I can’t help you do that if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”
His eyes were so warm and gentle. Sylvia felt like she’d left her body, like she was watching through some other girl’s eyes and controlling her from afar.
“I… I’m going to be expelled unless I can graduate this semester.”
Professor Aydl nodded. “That’s a predicament, to be sure.” He pulled his arm from around her. Her back felt cold.
“I know you’ve been trying as hard as you can. I’ll see if I can pull any strings with Headmaster Tole. In the meantime, why don’t you come to my office tomorrow afternoon? I have a few students doing exams with me tomorrow evening, and I won’t be able to leave until after that. I can fit in some help for you while I’m waiting for my first student.”
Her eyes locked onto his gentle smile, her mind lost in thought.
Sylvia nodded. “Okay.”
“Good. I’ll see you then.” Professor Aydl sat up from Sylvia’s bed and stepped toward the door before turning around.
“Be sure to get some rest, alright?”
“I will.”
Professor Aydl smiled. “Good.” And then he flicked off the light and closed the door.
“Well, you all heard what Sir Director Pul said this morning,” called the man from the front of the room. “Border Region Initiative starts today.”
The room wasn’t particularly interesting. It was a plain square room, with a small podium at the front, as well as a holograph board on the wall behind it. The Sectional Director stood at the podium, tall but not making a great effort to maximize his height.
The podium faced toward a few rows of chairs with simple folding desks. Everyone listening to the Sectional Director from the seats sat upright, arms resting neatly on the desks. Well, almost everyone - a few in the back rested their arms at their sides, tucking their hands under the seats and prodding at the screws to see if they would ever come loose.
Bags hung from the sides of seats, off metal hooks, sagging.
The Sectional Director himself was a fair-mannered man. He had dark skin and graying, balding hair, as if it was threatening to fall from his skull at any moment. His voice wasn’t exactly soft, but it strayed far from the bombastic mannerisms of Pul.
“Look, I won’t bore all of you with the details. The number of refugees - it’s gonna be up. Unlike before, don’t bother asking for refugee papers from anyone. No marriage status. Nothing like that. If a refugee tries you, you turn them away. Report them to me if anyone tries to push in. Understood?”
“Yes, sir!” called the room in chorus. The Sectional Director nodded.
“Well, get to it, then. Dismissed.” Everyone in the room stood from their seats, gathering bags. A few men in the back whispered to each other about “pushing in” and tried to hold back their chuckles. Lydia traced her hands over her bag, reaching for the strap, but stopped. Is it unzipped?
...No, it’s fine.
“Oh, and Plath?” Lydia looked up from her bag.
“Yes, Sectional Director Okin?”
“Your, uh, mechanic… wanted a word with you. Might wanna take care of that first thing.”
Lydia nodded and stood from her seat, bag on her back as she saluted him. “Yes, sir. Right away, sir.”
He rolled his eyes. “No need to be so formal all the damn time.” Lydia bit her lip, nodding. “Now, get to it.”
“Of course.” Lydia paced out of the room, making sure to keep her eyes to herself.
The round door slid open in the ceiling, letting out a soft hiss of air. A metal ladder, rungs round on the bottom and flat on the tops, rolled smoothly down to the floor, hitting the floor with a soft, metal clang.
Lydia waited for the ladder to settle into place before reaching her arms up to the bars and planting her feet firmly on the first rung.
Through the opening, she entered the lower deck of the ship, the ladder climbing back up on its own and sealing shut behind her. It was busier than usual - about fifteen round tables filled the room, with four chairs each, roughly, though a few had two or three extra chairs dragged from nearby tables to facilitate a larger group. The room rang with voices, most of which were shouting over each other. Across the room was a rather wide staircase, which doubled back on itself halfway up.
Lydia squinted her eyes, glancing at a table with eight or nine chairs around it, a wall of backs facing her. She was regularly surprised by the number of people her crew managed to fit at one table.
She let out a sigh with the weight of a boulder before walking directly over to the table, peering over the shoulder of the closest person. Sure enough, over her shoulder, Lydia saw exactly what she expected. Eight or nine hands of playing cards, one of which was folded over on the table, right in front of her mechanic.
Lydia tapped the shoulder she was peering over. “Hey.” No one seemed to notice, or if they did, no one cared. She rolled her eyes and tapped a bit harder.
“Hey!” She turned to look up at Lydia. Her face was covered in soft, tan fur, a darker shade of brown where her eyebrows should be. Her eyes, unlike a human, were a flat black.
“Oh, hey, Lydia!” Her voice was welcoming and bubbly, the kind of voice that makes someone feel like they’re valued and wanted as a friend. The rest of the table turned to look at Lydia. “Wanna join us? We just started.”
Lydia pressed her palm against her face and dragged it down, bringing as much skin with her fingers as she could before it pulled itself back into place. “Saula…”
She looked up at the rest of the table. “Don’t you all… have jobs to take care of? The new initiative, and all…”
Another person at the table piped up. He had fur, similar to Saula’s. “Oh, come on. Everything’s always about work with you.” He flipped his cards over on the table, gesturing wildly in what one might consider an interpretive dance. “A card game isn’t gonna crumble the Coalition. It’ll only take a little bit, come play with us!” He stood and kept gesturing with his arms, each movement a bit more ridiculous. “Here, guys, scoot over so Lydia can drag a chair over!”
“No. No, I’m not going to goof off with you all. I’m going to actually do my job. And Alum?” Her mechanic across the table had glanced back down at his cards, only for his eyes to dart back up at his name being called. “Come with me.”
“Ah… alright, then. Sorry, guys.” Alum put his cards on the table, face down. “Tam can play for me until I get back.” He turned to face Lydia, walking away from the table.
“Sectional Director told me about the problems you found.” He nodded.
Alum’s face was split in half down the middle, nearly perfectly. His left half, a rather pale, average looking human face, with a bright blue eye peering out. His right half, however, was constructed entirely of silvery, patchwork metal, each little plate a slightly different shade, but still coming together to form a human’s body.
Yet, despite the metal, his nod moved as smoothly as any other person’s. Lydia saw him lather up with oil nearly every day at the end of his shift. Every time, she thought to herself that it surely wasn’t the appropriate amount of oil to use, but he’d done it for years and he still seemed alright, so she figured he knew more about his own body than she did.
“Yeah, uh, there’s an issue with the engine. Problem is, I lost my keycard, so I need someone with permissions to get in until I can get mine replaced. You’re the earliest one scheduled to come in today with a high enough tier to-”
Lydia nodded. “I understand. I’ll let you in.” Alum smiled.
“Alright. Perfect.”
Sylvia’s heart jumped, a sudden burst of energy flooding into her as she leapt up in her bed, throwing her comforter off the side. “Y-yes? Oh, um… Door, unlock.”
With a small chime, the door opened ever so slightly, letting a thin stream of light in through the crack. “Sylvia?” came a gentle, old man’s voice through the opening.
Sylvia’s heart was still beating, but it started to steady as she sat up. “Professor Aydl? Um, come in… Turn on the light.”
Her face was dry and sore, but she couldn’t stop rubbing it. The corners of her eyes, especially.
The door opened slowly, revealing the form of a middle-aged man, with softly combed grey-brown hair, a blue sweater vest, and a white undershirt. Tan slacks covered his legs. Unlike what his smile marks might suggest, he was frowning.
He flicked the light on, and Sylvia flinched. “You didn’t come to my class today. I got worried something might have happened to you.”
A pang of guilt got stuck in her throat like a golf ball.
Sylvia looked up at him, squinting through the light, as he stood in the middle of her room. “Professor Aydl… Everything is okay.”
He frowned.
“May I sit down?”
Sylvia’s heart sunk. “I-if you want to.”
He took a seat on the bed next to her. “You don’t need to hide anything, Miss Enisa. I can tell you’re upset by something.”
Leaning forward, he turned to look at her, a gentle smile on his face. “I suspect it has to do with the meeting you had with Headmaster Tole earlier. Am I wrong?”
Sylvia looked down, away from Professor Aydl. “You don’t need to put yourself out for me. You have better things to do with your time.”
A hand gently touched her shoulder. It was warm. Her mind wanted to push the warmth away, letting her body succumb to the icy cold instead. “Sylvia, I want you to understand one thing. I didn’t decide to be a professor here to help students who don’t need it. That would be ridiculous.”
Sylvia looked up at Professor Aydl, frowning. The hand on her shoulder felt like it was miles away. Professor Aydl kept smiling. “I came here to help students like you. But I can’t help you do that if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”
His eyes were so warm and gentle. Sylvia felt like she’d left her body, like she was watching through some other girl’s eyes and controlling her from afar.
“I… I’m going to be expelled unless I can graduate this semester.”
Professor Aydl nodded. “That’s a predicament, to be sure.” He pulled his arm from around her. Her back felt cold.
“I know you’ve been trying as hard as you can. I’ll see if I can pull any strings with Headmaster Tole. In the meantime, why don’t you come to my office tomorrow afternoon? I have a few students doing exams with me tomorrow evening, and I won’t be able to leave until after that. I can fit in some help for you while I’m waiting for my first student.”
Her eyes locked onto his gentle smile, her mind lost in thought.
Sylvia nodded. “Okay.”
“Good. I’ll see you then.” Professor Aydl sat up from Sylvia’s bed and stepped toward the door before turning around.
“Be sure to get some rest, alright?”
“I will.”
Professor Aydl smiled. “Good.” And then he flicked off the light and closed the door.
---
“Well, you all heard what Sir Director Pul said this morning,” called the man from the front of the room. “Border Region Initiative starts today.”
The room wasn’t particularly interesting. It was a plain square room, with a small podium at the front, as well as a holograph board on the wall behind it. The Sectional Director stood at the podium, tall but not making a great effort to maximize his height.
The podium faced toward a few rows of chairs with simple folding desks. Everyone listening to the Sectional Director from the seats sat upright, arms resting neatly on the desks. Well, almost everyone - a few in the back rested their arms at their sides, tucking their hands under the seats and prodding at the screws to see if they would ever come loose.
Bags hung from the sides of seats, off metal hooks, sagging.
The Sectional Director himself was a fair-mannered man. He had dark skin and graying, balding hair, as if it was threatening to fall from his skull at any moment. His voice wasn’t exactly soft, but it strayed far from the bombastic mannerisms of Pul.
“Look, I won’t bore all of you with the details. The number of refugees - it’s gonna be up. Unlike before, don’t bother asking for refugee papers from anyone. No marriage status. Nothing like that. If a refugee tries you, you turn them away. Report them to me if anyone tries to push in. Understood?”
“Yes, sir!” called the room in chorus. The Sectional Director nodded.
“Well, get to it, then. Dismissed.” Everyone in the room stood from their seats, gathering bags. A few men in the back whispered to each other about “pushing in” and tried to hold back their chuckles. Lydia traced her hands over her bag, reaching for the strap, but stopped. Is it unzipped?
...No, it’s fine.
“Oh, and Plath?” Lydia looked up from her bag.
“Yes, Sectional Director Okin?”
“Your, uh, mechanic… wanted a word with you. Might wanna take care of that first thing.”
Lydia nodded and stood from her seat, bag on her back as she saluted him. “Yes, sir. Right away, sir.”
He rolled his eyes. “No need to be so formal all the damn time.” Lydia bit her lip, nodding. “Now, get to it.”
“Of course.” Lydia paced out of the room, making sure to keep her eyes to herself.
---
The round door slid open in the ceiling, letting out a soft hiss of air. A metal ladder, rungs round on the bottom and flat on the tops, rolled smoothly down to the floor, hitting the floor with a soft, metal clang.
Lydia waited for the ladder to settle into place before reaching her arms up to the bars and planting her feet firmly on the first rung.
Through the opening, she entered the lower deck of the ship, the ladder climbing back up on its own and sealing shut behind her. It was busier than usual - about fifteen round tables filled the room, with four chairs each, roughly, though a few had two or three extra chairs dragged from nearby tables to facilitate a larger group. The room rang with voices, most of which were shouting over each other. Across the room was a rather wide staircase, which doubled back on itself halfway up.
Lydia squinted her eyes, glancing at a table with eight or nine chairs around it, a wall of backs facing her. She was regularly surprised by the number of people her crew managed to fit at one table.
She let out a sigh with the weight of a boulder before walking directly over to the table, peering over the shoulder of the closest person. Sure enough, over her shoulder, Lydia saw exactly what she expected. Eight or nine hands of playing cards, one of which was folded over on the table, right in front of her mechanic.
Lydia tapped the shoulder she was peering over. “Hey.” No one seemed to notice, or if they did, no one cared. She rolled her eyes and tapped a bit harder.
“Hey!” She turned to look up at Lydia. Her face was covered in soft, tan fur, a darker shade of brown where her eyebrows should be. Her eyes, unlike a human, were a flat black.
“Oh, hey, Lydia!” Her voice was welcoming and bubbly, the kind of voice that makes someone feel like they’re valued and wanted as a friend. The rest of the table turned to look at Lydia. “Wanna join us? We just started.”
Lydia pressed her palm against her face and dragged it down, bringing as much skin with her fingers as she could before it pulled itself back into place. “Saula…”
She looked up at the rest of the table. “Don’t you all… have jobs to take care of? The new initiative, and all…”
Another person at the table piped up. He had fur, similar to Saula’s. “Oh, come on. Everything’s always about work with you.” He flipped his cards over on the table, gesturing wildly in what one might consider an interpretive dance. “A card game isn’t gonna crumble the Coalition. It’ll only take a little bit, come play with us!” He stood and kept gesturing with his arms, each movement a bit more ridiculous. “Here, guys, scoot over so Lydia can drag a chair over!”
“No. No, I’m not going to goof off with you all. I’m going to actually do my job. And Alum?” Her mechanic across the table had glanced back down at his cards, only for his eyes to dart back up at his name being called. “Come with me.”
“Ah… alright, then. Sorry, guys.” Alum put his cards on the table, face down. “Tam can play for me until I get back.” He turned to face Lydia, walking away from the table.
“Sectional Director told me about the problems you found.” He nodded.
Alum’s face was split in half down the middle, nearly perfectly. His left half, a rather pale, average looking human face, with a bright blue eye peering out. His right half, however, was constructed entirely of silvery, patchwork metal, each little plate a slightly different shade, but still coming together to form a human’s body.
Yet, despite the metal, his nod moved as smoothly as any other person’s. Lydia saw him lather up with oil nearly every day at the end of his shift. Every time, she thought to herself that it surely wasn’t the appropriate amount of oil to use, but he’d done it for years and he still seemed alright, so she figured he knew more about his own body than she did.
“Yeah, uh, there’s an issue with the engine. Problem is, I lost my keycard, so I need someone with permissions to get in until I can get mine replaced. You’re the earliest one scheduled to come in today with a high enough tier to-”
Lydia nodded. “I understand. I’ll let you in.” Alum smiled.
“Alright. Perfect.”
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