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Chapter 2: Fangirls and Assholes

Peters picks up a tablet from the front podium and clicks a few buttons to engage the projector. She starts droning on and on about Zirconium this and moderators that. I swear to all that is zoomie and gravitational I am going to fall asleep. I’ll have to try and memorize the details and settings of this S1B reactor, but otherwise, why the hell should I care? The Virginia class SSNs don’t use this reactor, and none of the new SSGNs use it either. Then again, the training reactor in NY is an experimental reactor for a light cruiser that never made production so, they’re not really testing us for current data, more topical capability. Uugh, I have to believe that we’ll get a primer on the Copernicus-class propulsion system as it's not nuclear like the rest of the Earth-based reactors.

I get lost in my own musings, but according to the schedule, we hit this training module hard until the first week of class is done. It’s not until week four? That we start integrating multiple subjects per day? Oh Universe, I’m going to bang my head against my desk. Not really, I can try to feign interest, but I am so bad at hiding my emotions on my overly expressive face.

Hours pass, we break for lunch and as I’m about to join Alvarez for a trip to the mess hall, I hear:

“Third class Mercer, a moment please.” Miss Peters and Senior Chief are standing outside the classroom. Alvarez raises an eyebrow, but I nod that I’ll catch up with him.

“Senior, Miss Peters; what can I do for you?” Miss Mercer waves me to follow her to her office. Senior follows. There’s no way I can be in trouble for falling asleep and I was looking up and taking a few notes here and there also. Is this about my last name? Did my pens bleed over from academia??

Senior closes the door behind him and Miss Peters sits on the edge of her desk. “We were told that you were far over educated for this job, and the command staff wants me to dissuade you from taking this school lightly. I noticed you didn’t seem to interested.”

The hell? I took notes you nosey child. “Water moderated reactors with boiling water heat exchangers aren’t exactly new tech. But it seems that we’ll get into more detail about testing and value ranges than would be pertinent on any modern reactors. As far as I can tell, this will be light on learning how things work and heavy on learning what the exam wants us to learn. Until the first exam, my best bet is to rely on the instructor. If that changes after the test, well, I guess you tell me?”

Parker leans to one side and picks up a file with her other arm while Senior Chief looks down and shakes his head. “If this is so easy for you, Mercer, why are you here?”

“To get to space of course. Without the necessary wealth or connections, this seemed the most viable way.”

Senior and Parker stare at me for a moment before my instructor speaks up. “There’s more to it than that, isn’t there?”

I shrug at her. She waits. Senior glares at me. I wait. Before I can hum the “Hokey Pokey” Peters chimes in again: “As long as you don’t disrupt my class and keep your scores up, guess I don’t care.”

That statement sums up four of the next six months of my life. The first exam taught me that what the book said was more important than what the instructor had on her powerpoint. After the second exam she started changing her powerpoints and emphasizing some of the pertinent language that comes from the manual.

Alvarez bombed the first exam. Material science and reactor design was not his jam, and he had more family stuff to handle that first week than I or he expected. He was “awarded” with mandatory 20 hours of study on top of school time, to which I volunteered about 10 hours a week to help him and a few other stragglers after class. After a two more tests, he got rolled back to only 10 extra hours and he felt much more comfortable with that. After month two, I came in for study hall on Saturdays in exchange for a few pop-tart packs during the week as official tutoring was supposed to be via appointment with Miss Peters. But there were always stragglers and someone had to eat the strawberry toaster strudels.

It was two weeks into month four when I noticed that the Genesis Program only has a week long segment that is taught with the electrical engineering and reactor controls segment as an aside? Are they even going to test us on this later? I have questions, so I make an appointment with miss Peters on her last slot on a Friday.

“As much as I know you don’t need tutoring, you’ve never wasted my time before, so I couldn’t exactly blow off this meeting. Why keep me from starting my weekend early, Miss Mercer?”

“Oh? Hot date to get to? Some bar bunny in Charleston no doubt.” I was fishing, but her wide eyes and pursed lips tell me it’s likely a woman she’s off to see. “in any case, I saw that the Genesis module is short and topical. What gives?”

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

“I prefer not to comment about my personal life with students.” She smirks while commenting. Perhaps it’s the role reversal as I’m more than likely older than this woman and her tone likens me to an inquisitive child. “However, the Genesis Program and Copernicus associated systems are a higher classification that we teach at this facility. Also, the Nations involved in the Joint naval program agreed that instruction would be held at an international facility. That being said, the module focuses on the differences in the primary and secondary systems that don’t use water as a heat transfer medium.”

“Ah, that makes more sense. Covering the chemistry of a different medium would take much less time than addressing the concepts behind the new engine itself. Will it cover both propulsive generation and standby generation?”

Confusion litters her expression “How do you know that much about the Hauptman-Mercer Engine? That’s TS-SCI stuff. Whatever the multination version of that is.”

I point at myself. “Mercer.”

The pen she was spinning around her thumb flies across the room. “There’s no way. That kind of fame is priceless. That Mercer could work anywhere.”

I chuckle at that. “Unless she was a difficult, know-it-all bitch. Most people don’t like to be told how much more I know than them. I’m actually interested in what method of cooling they settled on since I haven’t been ‘in the know’ for a couple of years. Last I checked they were trying to integrate the Thorium thermal reactor cooling with the Annihilation Propulsor cooling. Do they still . . . “

“Mercer, stop. I’m convinced.”

I tilt my head and ask, “of what, that I worked on the project?”

“That and you’re a bit of a know-it-all.”

Well at least she didn’t include “bitch” at the end of that. I appreciate her gender courtesy. “Ahh, that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy,” I spit. “Thanks for confirming my suspicions on the Genesis section though.”

“No problem, here to help the students and all that.” She pauses and fiddles with some paperclips on her desk. I’m amazed that people still use paperclips, but also aware that she’s avoiding my gaze and seems . . . nervous? “Uh, this is a little embarrassing, but would you be willing to talk about your work sometime? It’s kind of the reason I applied to Naval Reactors in the first place.”

What?! My instructor’s a fan of my work? Oh ho ho. No Penny, you’re not a villain. Act like a normal human. “I’m honored? You know I’m persona non grata, and associating with me is like wading through the bog of eternal stench right?”

She shrugs and gains a measure of confidence as I didn’t outright reject her interest. “From what I hear, the US and Chinese governments are frustrated with Hauptman and his focus on making the Annihilation tech into a workable energy source.”

I put my head in my hands, “I can’t believe he’s still on that. I told him that optimizing fusion tech was a better source of stable energy than Annihilation. Which makes me want to get my hands on Copernicus’ plans so I can look at the engineering layout. See what they decided on.”

We banter back and forth for the rest of the hour, convincing me that Miss Peters is every bit as smart as some of my “colleagues” from my research phase with NPL. She proposes lunch and I propose a Saturday so I don’t have to rush back to class while nerding out on my life’s work.

“So 3rd class Mercer finally asked for help huh?” says a stooge of a rate change that was until recently an unrated Seaman.

“Seaman Daniels, thanks for being so civil. How can I help.” It wasn’t really a question, but I know he’ll reply.

“You can stop hogging the schedule and let people that need help get it.” He ignores the slight.

“Excuse me?! I come in for extra ten just to help people. And the schedule was open for two hours before my appointment with Miss Peters. Just because you can’t bear to accept help from me doesn’t mean I’m wasting other’s time.”

“And there you stand, not even remotely ashamed that you’re convincing desperate Sailors to commit adultery to get into your ‘study program’.”

I sneer at the accusation, “you keep throwing that bullshit around, Daniels, and I’ll make sure you get tied up in so much harassment paperwork that you’ll get kicked back to normie “A” school.”

“Fucking try it Mercer. Your whoring and the favoritism that Peters is showing in ‘Female solidarity’,” he says in such a lewd manner I want to scour my soul to rid my eyes of the image. “You and the good teacher would fall with me.”

He’s close now, close enough to poke me with his errant jabs, but I know he’s not going to cross the battery line.

“Those are some serious accusations to Levy at the faculty 3rd Class Daniels. Very well, I witness these accusations and will file them accordingly. I recommend you both restrain from talking to each other until this can be investigated and neither of you will be allowed my office hours until such time a verdict is reached. Additionally, I will recommend to Senior Chief Rickman that 3rd Class Mercer will be discouraged from tutoring others until said accusations are resolved, and that both of you will need alternate assistance if it is required for your studies.” Peters turns to her appointment list and shuffles through it. “Daniels, your appointments preceding the next exam will be rescheduled with another class’ instructor at their convenience. Thank you for your diligence in ensuring a safe and equitable learning environment.” She turned into her office and slammed the door.

I turned to walk toward the barracks as I had already stowed my gear before my meeting with Miss Peters. Daniel couldn’t leave it though.

“It’ll be nice to see strawberry pop-tarts in the vending machine again.”

What an absolute fuck stick. Could a self-identified “Man” be any more cunty?