The Interview
> “And when this life of ours is done, we’ll meet at heaven’s door. There we’ll embrace, your soul in mine, then and forevermore.”
>
> -from ‘Spirit Move Me’, Lonn folk song
Yan header [https://78.media.tumblr.com/3a8e1d12d80117e6afc9f5f48ca78e87/tumblr_pdxwrhUDP41xnm75po1_1280.png]
Interview day had come to the Academy. It was the most nerve wracking day of any student's tenure there. To say that Yan felt nervous would have been a massive understatement. She had received her interview times and locations the night before, and was shocked to find that one of her interviews would be taking place in a building that she had never been to before: the Staden building, where all of the Academy's top officials, including Marca Windreshon, the head of the Academy, had their offices. It was a place where students were rarely invited.
Yan was trying and failing to convince herself that the summons to this place simply meant that since several hundred students were being interviewed all at once, they needed to use any room they could find to conduct these interviews. This line of reasoning wasn't holding water for a variety of reasons. For one thing, she had messaged her friends and all of them had said that they had never heard of anybody getting an interview in the Staden building. Furthermore, as she walked closer and closer to the building, the warm spring sun beating down on her, there was no steady trickle of students in and out like there was at every other campus building.
With a growing sense of trepidation, Yan climbed the marble steps to the building's front door. Surprisingly, the door opened with just a push, and she walked inside. In the foyer, there was a large desk with a security guard, several potted plants, an elevator door, and several other doors leading to parts unknown. The security guard gave her a bored look.
"Uh, hi, I'm here for my interview?" Yan said.
"Let me see your invitation." Yan obligingly pulled the heavy card from her pocket and handed it over. The card was quite fancy, with scarlet text embossed on cream paper showing her name and the time and place of the interview.
"Yan BarCarran?" The guard asked, and Yan nodded in confirmation. "Take the elevator to the fifth floor, someone else will let you know where to go from there." The guard pressed a button on his desk and the elevator doors opened with a bell chime. He handed her back her invitation. "Good luck," he said as Yan headed towards the elevator.
"Thanks." She stepped inside and the doors closed behind her.
The guard must have had control of the elevator from his desk because without her pressing any buttons the elevator began to travel smoothly upward. It chimed again when it opened its doors to the fifth floor. Yan exited the elevator.
She found herself in a hallway, with several closed doors leading away. Two other students sat in chairs in the hallway, and Yan vaguely recognized them from around campus, but didn't think that she had ever talked to either of them. Standing in front of one of the doors was a very large man with a blotchy red complexion. He stared at her blankly for a second, but Yan could feel his power searching her out, checking for hidden weapons or bad intentions. After a second, she was apparently judged to be harmless.
"Yan BarCarran?" He asked, and she nodded. "Your interview is third. Please wait here until you are called in." The large man gestured to an empty chair positioned near the other two students. Yan hastily sat.
She and the other students exchanged looked eachother over for an awkwardly silent moment. She couldn't place either of their names, but they were definitely students in her year.
The student in the furthest chair from her was a young man, a little shorter than Yan's height, with bright blue eyes and a completely shaved head. He had a long nose and had massive glasses that Yan suspected were fashion as much as anything.
The middle student was a girl, short, with two long black braids hanging down by her ears. She had a tanned complexion and was using the power to weave a thick piece of string between her fingers. Her face looked calm as she studied Yan, but the restless motions of the string betrayed otherwise.
"I'm Yan," she said, finally breaking the silence.
"Kino," the girl said, extending a hand free of cord. "Kino Meija."
Yan shook Kino's hand, then looked at the third student. He stared at her for a second more, then began to move his hands in Imperial Sign.
"I'm deaf," he signed.
Clumsily, having not used Sign in more than a year, Yan replied "I'm a spacer." Then fingerspelled her name. This caused him to smile brightly.
"Sid," he fingerspelled, "but my friends call me-" he made the sign for egg against the side of his shiny bald head. This was clearly some sort of inside joke because his smile became much sharper.
"How come you know sign?" Kino asked curiously.
"I was a spacer kid before coming to the academy. Everyone on a ship has to know at least a little," Yan replied.
"Why?"
"So you can be cert for walks outside even if there's a radio-out, and since most spacers know it it's a good language for trade deals, even if two ships families are speaking different languages." As she explained this to Kino, she felt the large man's eyes on her. It was more of a curious and evaluating look than anything, but she still felt it and twitched a little.
Suddenly, the man spoke. "Kino, he is ready for your interview." The large man opened the door he was standing in front of as Kino stood. Yan gave her a thumbs up and she smiled stiffly back before heading into the open doorway. The tall man shut the door behind her.
Sid and Yan sat in anxious silence for what felt like an eternity but was more like a half hour. Eventually, the man opened the door to let Kino out. She gave a shaky thumbs up back to Yan and Sid as she headed towards the elevator and left.
"You go," the man signed at Sid, which was a surprise to both of the students. Sid stood.
"Good luck." Yan signed clumsily. He nodded back before heading into the room.
Another painful half hour passed with just Yan waiting in the room with the man, trying to decide if it was better to openly look at him, sneak glances at him, or resolutely ignore him. She ended up going with the second option, mainly because she got bored of the third. After an excruciatingly long time, the man opened the door and Sid came out.
Sid glanced at Yan, then knocked on the underside of his chin twice with a smirk. Chin up. Sid headed towards the elevator and left. Already anticipating what the man was going to say, Yan stood.
The man nodded at her and held open the door. Yan stepped inside and the door closed behind her.
Aymon header [https://78.media.tumblr.com/b4dad4578189825c0c89f7b8c4bea24f/tumblr_pdxwrhUDP41xnm75po2_1280.png]
The third and final student was coming in for her interview. Aymon had reviewed her profile the night before, as soon as the students names, profiles, and interview times had been released to him by the Academy. One Yan BarCarran, born a spacer, became an orphan in childhood, twenty years old, among the top of her class, surprising talent in most disciplines, enjoys meditation, good theological practices, no known political affiliations. She was the creator of the fish bowl. He had saved her interview for last, mainly because he found her project to be the most intriguing.
Aymon heard the door open, and looked up from the borrowed desk he was using at the girl. She was tall and lanky, the familiar figure of any born spacer, with dark skin and close cropped hair. She wore the standard cassock of all the students, and aside from her unusual height and stride there was nothing that made her stand out visually. Mentally, however, looking at her and gauging her power sent a shiver down his spine. Just as the other two students had, something in her called out to him. He imagined his own predecessor must have felt this way when she interviewed him and the other apprentices who had been in his cohort. It was a strange thought.
She stood just past the doorway as the two regarded each other silently for a moment. He could tell that she was extremely nervous, and he could see her count her breaths, a meditation technique that children used.
"Sit." He gestured to the chair placed on the opposite side of the desk. Obediently but cautiously, Yan sat down in the chair. "Do you know who I am?"
"First Sandreas, Voice of the Empire," she answered.
"That is correct. And you know why I am here, and why you are here?"
"This is an apprentice interview."
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"Also correct. Recently, I have heard the voice of God whispering in my ear that the time has come for me to choose apprentices. Your project appealed to me. Tell me, what did you intend to be the punchline of your joke?"
"What joke are you talking about?" Yan asked nervously.
"When I looked at your project, I could see the spirit in which it was created. What is the punchline to that joke?" Aymon stared her down and watched her squirm for a second.
"Was it theologically unsound?" Yan asked.
"Is that why you don't tell me the punchline? Don't worry about that. I'm just curious to know the answer." Yan was silent for a moment more, and Aymon regarded her steadily.
"The idea was either..." She paused. "I could never decide between 'That which is not living can never die' and 'It's not alive but nobody can tell the difference'."
"Neither are strictly true, though." Aymon said.
"Of course not, that's why it's a joke." Yan said, as if that explained everything, but then continued in a rush. "The idea is striving to do what only God can do, even saying 'it can never die', as though the heat death of the universe won't take care of it, or saying 'nobody can tell the difference' when clearly it's easy to tell." Yan took a breath. "It's impossible to be what God is, it's impossible to do what God does, but the importance of it is the striving. That's why we are the way we are-"
Aymon held up his hand to cut her off. "I don't need the theological lecture. I liked your project, that is sufficient." Yan nodded and took a deep breath.
"I have been informed that the purpose of this interview is to allow students to reject any apprenticeships that they would find unsuitable, for whatever reason. Is that correct?" Aymon asked.
"Yes."
"Did you receive any other interview requests?"
"Yes. The Academics team and the Biological Research division, Xenobiology team both asked for me."
"I'm glad to hear you have other offers." Aymon was surprised to find as he said this that he truly was. Though the part of him that had been clamoring for him to find an apprentice was insisting that this was a student that he had come to find, there was a tiny part of him that hoped Yan would walk away.
"This apprenticeship will most likely shape the course of your entire life. To be an apprentice to me will mean I take you into my inner circle. You will be granted access to high level information and be able to influence or make decisions that affect entire planets full of people. As such, there can be no backing out. Once you know certain information, once you are privy to certain things, there is no un-knowing. Do you understand this?"
"Yes."
"There are a great many things that you could gain from working with me. You will have the opportunity to travel over the populated universe, learn and do new things, and participate in the highest levels of the Empire.
"But there are many things that you will also lose. Knowing high level information means, as just one example, you will no longer be able to participate in active meditation with people who do not share that information. You must be able to guard the things that you know, even with your life. You will no longer be able to live your life as a free and average citizen. You will probably be in grave danger at least some of the time because you will be seen as an easy target.
"Above all, this work will be challenging, time consuming, and often unpleasant. Think about this before you make any final decisions." Aymon paused in his speech for a second. "Do you have any questions for me?"
Yan looked nervous. She had moved to tuck her hands in her pockets, but Aymon could see by the way the fabric was drawn tight that she was fiddling with it and bunching her hands up. Despite the clear tension in her body, her face seemed merely contemplative and her voice was clear.
"You can't really tell me anything about what this apprenticeship would involve, can you?" Yan asked.
"I can say that you would be working closely with me. There may be times when I would send you to perform some sort of task in my stead, or to go work on some political or military matter as my liaison to other departments. At some point in your apprenticeship, you will probably be tasked with making important decisions and performing operations independently, or with a task force under your command. At this moment I cannot tell you specifically what information or duties that would entail, obviously."
"Why don't you just pull people who are already in your chain of command for this position?" Yan asked.
"Multiple reasons. For one thing, it has always been expected that I choose an apprentice at some point, as is tradition. That was how I myself came into this position. I also don't completely trust many of the people who serve under me, and I need people with certain skill sets who I can also trust completely. Academy graduates who are fresh out of school will fill that role. As for why now, I felt the call to it."
"And why did you pick me- or us?" Yan asked.
"When I went into the project hall, your project called out to something inside of me, as did the other two students, Kino's and Sid's. That is the true purpose of the project, from what I can tell, to distill the complete sense of a student into one experience, so that anyone who walks into that hall can find the person they would work best with. This is why the entire apprenticeship system works so well, and why it's important that projects be worked on completely individually. I don't recommend it, but you could examine the projects yourself to see whose calls to you."
"Why don't you recommend it?" Yan had nothing but questions, which Aymon considered to be a good thing, since it showed she was thinking about what he was saying, but it also gave him little room to judge how she was really feeling about the whole thing.
"Because I'm sure that you would find a project by someone you've never talked to before, but if you talked to them, you would work well together. So you might regret not knowing them for the past ten years." Aymon shrugged. "But do what you want, you're an adult."
"If I were to take this apprenticeship, where would it mostly be?"
"My primary place of residence is in the Imperial Center, but I spend some of my time travelling. You would have rooms in the Center as well, but I'm certain that much of your time will be spent away."
"What's the salary?" Yan asked. This question made Aymon laugh out loud.
"What a pragmatic question. Two hundred thousand charges for your first year, but more in later years probably. All travel and operational expenses will be covered by the Empire, of course."
Aymon saw Yan blanch slightly at the number. It was more than four times the yearly salary for an average spacer, which was probably her reference point. The money was inconsequential to Aymon. Anyone sufficiently high in the Imperial government had no reason to worry about money. Aymon himself certainly did not.
"What is the work schedule like?"
"This is not a nine-to-seventeen job- you will be on call all the time. Certainly there will be days off, and you will be able to go home most nights and sleep, but this apprenticeship will become your life. I'm not going to pretend that it won't."
"How long do I have to make a decision?"
"One week, I believe. And it's traditional for students to have a month off before their apprenticeship starts, after graduation."
"Do you know if Kino and Sid are going to accept the position?"
"Even if I knew I would not be at liberty to comment on it." Aymon replied. "Do you know them?"
"No, we just met. I was just wondering,” Yan said. She paused for a moment. "Do you think I should take this apprenticeship?" Yan asked, surprising Aymon.
"If I didn't think you had serious potential, I wouldn't have picked you. I also think this is not a job for everybody, certainly not for those who lack dedication. Only you can decide if you have the type and amount of dedication required."
"And you are sure we will work well together, if I took this position?"
"There are no sureties in life," Aymon said. "But I believe so. Do you need or want proof?"
"What proof could you give me?"
Aymon considered this question for a second.
"The profile I was given on you said you enjoy meditation much more than the average student, is that correct?"
"Yes." Yan raised her eyebrows at the seeming non sequitur, or perhaps at the idea that he had been given such a detailed profile.
Aymon pulled his phone out of his pocket and set it on the desk in front of him.
"Then let's take a moment together, and you can see what I am like." He swiped through his phone until he found the simplest active meditation recording he had. It was just recording of a completely neutral voice counting slowly upward. Before he began to play it he asked, "Is this an acceptable idea?"
Yan nodded and Aymon started the recording. Both of them closed their eyes and listened to the voice count up, focusing all their attention on just that. By time the voice had reached thirty, they were both in the trance state together, their consciousnesses linked.
Aymon strengthened his mental barriers and directed his thoughts away from all important information, but opened the doors of his mind to let Yan poke around at his personality. It felt like someone rifling through drawers in his head, but Yan was quite gentle and cautious. In his mind's eye he watched her do this.
One interesting thing that she did that he had never experienced anyone else try before was that she presented small snippets of scenes to him, perhaps out of her own memory, to see his instinctive reaction to them. This served the dual purpose of allowing him a small window into her life.
Most of these memory moments were innocuous, like a tedious moment of class time (which provoked instant boredom), or sparring with a classmate (excitement, and a strong desire for victory), watching rain drip down a window (a peaceful distraction), a memory from far in her childhood of a tall man menacing over her (anger), and a half finished test with math that had been worked in a circle (frustration, determination).
The last memory, however, was something else. In it, a young Yan (and Aymon inhabiting the body of this memory self) was floating in microgravity, looking out the window of her/his ship, watching the hustle of all the adults on the ship loading and unloading cargo from a station. One of the suited adults outside the ship fired their suit's jets to slowly pass the window where Yan/Aymon was. The adult waved in through the window and signed "Go to bed" at the young Yan/Aymon who stuck out her/his tongue. The adult engaged the jets again and zoomed away towards the working mass of people directing massive cargo containers. The memory seemed to stretch out and slow down as one of the cargo containers jets misfired. The massive, thousand ton box broke loose from its moorings and started spinning wildly out of control. Most people scattered out of the way of the oncoming projectile, but the adult who had signed to Yan/Aymon was not so lucky. One side of the wildly spinning container hit the adult and----
The memory abruptly cut off and Yan's presence withdrew from Aymon's mind. Back out of the meditation, his phone was still counting up and up. He shut it off and looked up at Yan.
"Sorry," she said, looking extremely shaken. "I didn't mean to do that."
"And that is the reason why active meditation can be extremely dangerous to those who do not know what they are doing, especially when it comes to things that they would rather keep hidden." Aymon said, attempting to gather his own wits about him. "An interesting technique, to be sure, but not one that I would recommend trying again without more practice."
Yan just stared at him blankly.
"Did you find what you were hoping to learn in there?" He asked, trying to be somewhat less abrasive.
"I'll let you know by the end of the week," Yan said, standing abruptly. Aymon stood as well. He pulled a card from his pocket and held it out to her.
"Message me at this number when you have your decision, or if you have any other questions." Yan practically snatched the card out of his hand and walked out the door.
Well. That certainly had been something, Aymon thought.