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Metal Body, Crimson Mind
Chapter 3 - First Steps (Vyvani)

Chapter 3 - First Steps (Vyvani)

Vyvani

Sometimes I wonder what the hell I'm doing in the company of these idiots, and why in the world I associate myself with them. But then again, I always end up convincing myself, high school is a dog-eat-dog world, and it's better to consort with the top of the pyramid than linger near the bottom. In any case, I'll only have to put up with them for two more months--and then I'll be out of here, off to an elite university in Zanaku City, and I can finally wave goodbye to these morons with bloated egos.

I hang up from my call with Vorin and toss my cTab into my backpack. It's thirty minutes to lunchtime, but by then I'll be out of school with permission from the headmaster. I have an important interview for an internship I'll be doing over the summer.

"Hey Vyvani, are you coming to Jerim's place tonight?" Aya leans over my shoulder.

"Maybe." I shrug. I don't really want to go, but then I know I'll never hear the end of it from Aya and Milara. But at least the worst those two can do is to shovel their complaints into my ear. Parkim, Sangsum, and Jerim—they’re worse. They'll just stop inviting you altogether; and as if that's not bad enough, they'll make sure you're an outcast on top of that. They do that to anyone who threatens their authority, and there’s no clearer way to do that than a rejection of an invitation.

"You should come," Aya continues. "Jerim's parents just bought a sky mansion in Meradon Hills. I really want to check it out."

"Then go," I say. "No one's stopping you." I turn to her. "Are they?"

"Weird they're not doing it at Sangsum's," Milara adds. "I wanted to grab a ride on his spaceYacht tonight."

"Yeah, Sangsum's is nice, but Jerim's place is at Meradon Hills," Aya says. She blinks at me with her doe-like eyes. "Jerim won't whip out the expensive stuff unless you're there, Vyvani. You know that."

I roll my eyes and decide that my permitted absence has just begun thirty minutes early.

"Bye, Aya. I have to go now."

Ignoring her imploring looks, I pack my bag and tiptoe my way out of the classroom while Mrs. Enzi is still helping another student with her back turned to the door. I rush through the hallways and trade my slippers for my shoes at the entrance. Then, I run through the P.E. field, and then I'm out the gates.

I take in a breath of that fresh, early-dismissal air. It feels different, being out of school earlier than when the last bell rings. It feels naughty, almost, but simultaneously so refreshing and exhilarating, like being in an empty amusement park and not having to wait for hours in line, or when you get that long-awaited package of books you've been waiting for and take in a whiff of the first page.

It's like I'm wearing a new pair of glasses. Everything appears so different, as if they're under a different light. The sun seems brighter, the air cooler, the people friendlier, the sights newer.

I skip my way to the Minzyu hoverTram station. Normally I would have taken the subway system, but Mother and Father presented me with a bit more for my allowance this week so that I could have an easier ride to my interview. Pretty soon I see the gargantuan building of black glass and black steel looming in the distance. It's shaped like an ocean wave that's just beginning to rise; at the crest of the wave, a wide, covered leg extends across the hoverlanes and roads. It's not just hoverTrams that are coming and going from the station--vertical take-off shuttles (vTOS), luxury airShips, pleasure spaceYachts, and older, antique craft like turboprops and jetplanes all call this place homebase. It's the largest such station in Handata City.

My father is in there somewhere, working as a traffic controller, though he used to be a pilot until he lost his job. A lot of pilots lost their jobs--most of the craft are now controlled through Vermeta's VRcomm systems by people sitting in kinetic VR chairs.

I climb the glassy steps to the station entrance. Everyone here appears so wealthy, so leisurely, so well put-together. I'm vaguely aware of my pink hair and the attention it draws from those nearby. I stare out in front of me into some unseen distance, acting like I don't notice their looks, refusing to submit to my embarrassment. The more I feel my face burning, the slower I force my strides.

I walk through cavernous terminals, pass below walkthrough security systems, and pretty soon, I'm on the platform, waiting for my tram. When it arrives, the glass barrier doors slide open in synchrony with the hoverTram ones, and I step through into an interior comprised of velvet chairs, rubber floors, and glossy alloy walls. I take a seat and lean my head against the window.

As the tram glides through the city, towards City Center, I think on what Vorin has told me. If what he's said is true, then it probably means that Kazin and his father are in trouble. I wonder if I should even care this much, because it's not as if I can do anything about it anyways. Can I? After all, I’m just a girl trying to make it in this cold city, and Vorin’s talking about things involving adults. The primmed and preppy of Minzyu Secondary would never understand the struggle of surviving.

The hoverTram keeps in its hoverlane, slithering in between the monumental and tower-esque buildings of the city. Far off, I see a skyscraper of silver glass, shaped like a three-pronged pyramid. Shampai Group's headquarters. I had always known that Sangsum's family was apparently wealthy. Never could I have guessed that that family was the founder family of Shampai; but now that I know, it all makes sense. Sangsum is an arrogant, shady, and bilateral character. All his actions have a murky undertone, a sense of ulterior motivation--a personality most definitely in line with Shampai's reputation.

As I look upon the imposing building, I once again feel a good dash of self-loathing for fraternizing with people like Sangsum. And again, I shake it off with a good pinch of self-justification.

The hoverTram slows to a stop at City Center Station. I shuffle out, then walk through the terminals. I climb through an endless maze of moving walkways and escalators, all the way to the platforms where countless air taxis are waiting in hoverlanes for potential passengers. I climb into one and ask for Chunzanten Hall, home of Handata City's parliament.

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My taxi drops me off at the massive, domed structure. Getting through security in government buildings is always an extended hassle, and every passing second, I find myself worrying that I'll be late to the interview. However, I'm soon waiting in the antechamber right outside Councilor Shora's office--and I discover that the interview can't come late enough. To suppress my bouts of nervousness, I observe the Councilor's chambers. She must take to the classical, I note. The room is all of marble and limestone, carved in the way that ancient imperial structures used to be.

"Vyvani?" another intern says, stepping through the door. He's tall, with techSpectacles, and appears of the age to be attending a graduate academy.

"That's me."

He shakes my hand. “My name's Tano. If you'll follow me into the Councilor's office?"

He leads me through a hallway, at the end of which are large blackwood doors. He opens them, and right there is Councilor Shora in the flesh, sitting behind a large, maple desk.

She stands to shake my hand.

"You must be Vyvani. Welcome."

She's a lot taller in person; and as I look into her piercing emerald eyes, I, for a moment, find myself wondering why she didn't just become a movie star or a model. Then I shake my head, realizing the stupidity of such thoughts and chastising myself for them.

"Nice to meet you, Councilor Shora."

"Call me Shora," she says, beckoning me to a seat. She's still dressed in the customary dress of parliamentary members, black robes slashed in deep purple and dark green.

Shora sits in her seat, and when Tano takes his beside me, she gives him a raised eyebrow.

"If it's alright with you, Tano, I'd like to conduct this interview on my own."

Tano looks up in surprise from his tPanel. "Sure, Shora. I'll leave this here for you." He places the tPanel on her desk.

"I'll let you go early, today. It's right before the holiday, after all." Shora waves her hand. "Please lock the doors on your way out."

Tano nods. "Pleasant holiday to you, Shora. You too, interviewee." He closes the doors as he leaves.

Shora sighs as she throws a wrinkled pack of cigarettes on the desk. "You're eighteen?"

I nod.

"Would you like one?"

I shake my head. "No thank you."

"Do you mind?" she asks me.

"Go ahead, by all means," I say with a nervous laugh. This Shora is not the person I thought she'd be, and definitely not the person I had thought I'd seen on broadcasts and on the news, back at home on our eScreen.

She blows a long cone of white smoke through puckered lips. "Been looking forward to that all day." She chuckles. "A lot of my constituents would chafe if they saw me in my actual element. I'm not quite city elite, even though everyone assumes I am due to my appearance."

I smile nervously, wondering when the interview will actually begin.

Shora chuckles to herself. "Some things, you just have to use to your advantage." She sighs and shakes her head. "So, tell me about yourself."

I take a deep breath and review in my mind the things I've rehearsed. "Well, my name is Vyvani Kanto. I was born and bred in Handata City. I attend Minzyu Secondary School, and I'm on track to match with Zanaku University."

"Zanaku University." Shora nods. "Very nice." She flicks through the tPanel. "Any friends, family in government?"

"None," I say.

"Why the interest then, if I might ask? Says here—she leans closer to the screen, her face cast in its blue light—“mother is a desk employee at a moving company, and father is a traffic controller at MInzyu Station." She looks up at me. "Explain to me how you came to develop your passion for government."

"Honestly, Councilor, I was inspired by you. I personally thought that a crackdown on the corruption in the city was not only long overdue, but also long expected by the populace. When you took up the challenge yourself, I'm sure that the entire city gave a collective cheer. Your handling of it thus far has been admirable and well within legal limits, with no cut corners."

Shora smiles knowingly, as if someone has just read a textbook answer. The look both worries and vexes me.

"I don't really enjoy it when people idolize me," she says, leaning back and taking a puff of her cigarette as if to make a point. "They're bound to be disappointed then, you see. That's why we have no heroes after the age of myths and legends. When we start getting written history, we begin to know their faults in an all-too relatable world. There are rarely redemption arcs for the once-fallen."

I feel my face redden. I, of all people, don't need to be told that. I love history so much that I plan on declaring it my primary subject at university. No one can call me out on not pursuing passion—following graduation, history majors are usually just impoverished intellectuals, unless they write a book or something. And my future is particularly hapless if I'm not accepted into a graduate academy of law, in accordance with my plans.

"Well," Shora says. "What else can you tell me, other than that?"

I search desperately in my mind for a way to stand out. I catch the tail of an idea, but it seems so dodgy and sycophantic that I can't bring myself to say it—not only that, but I'd be selling Vorin out. I begin wondering if I should rather just tell her the truth. But I don't know whether Shora has any corporate donors or not, however, so I can't just state my true intentions of wanting to go into this field—if she does have donors that are on my hitlist, and I speak ill of them, my interview is doomed, and I'll most likely be blacklisted from any occupation that even fringes on the political and legal arenas.

Shora stares into my face. "That's it?"

I chafe my tongue against the roof of my dry mouth as I realize that this interview is going nowhere.

"I've always had an interest in the political sphere," I begin dryly, "and seeing you, someone with no backing, no apparent sponsorships, who is not from an elite background, rise to the top..."

Shora sighs. "Vyvani, you are no doubt a smart girl. Zanaku University is one of the Elite Eight schools. But”—she puts out her cigarette and lights herself a new one—“it is still only sixth on that list. I have students who have already matched with University of Zanaku, Tri-City Polytechnic, Handata College, University of Miyatano, who have interviewed with me all throughout this month. You're one brain among thousands of applicants, Vyvani." Shora smiles and leans closer. "I’ve shuffled through all potential interns. Academic achievement is but one factor. So why you?"

"I..." Something about her manner convinces a small corner of my mind that she really wants me on her team—that I only need to step up to take what's mine. I swallow my conscience and once again put on that shameless mask that I've been wearing so much lately. "I have insider info, something that might interest you in your crusade against crime. But I can only tell you if you take me on as your intern. Not before."

Shora's eyes widen in surprise, and she lets out a laugh that's both incredulous and mixed with endearment, like someone who is bemused by a puppy that's done something naughty but finds the act so hilarious that amusement overshadows the anger. "A bribe!" she guffaws. "Alright, you have my interest. Go on."

"I need your word, in writing, and my signature on it, before I'll be willing to continue."

Shora smiles almost devilishly. "I have the power to get you thrown out of here. I won't make any promises." She taps a few times on the tPanel and rotates the screen so I can see. "Here is your contract. If what you say is to my liking, I'll slide it your way so you can sign it. Otherwise..." She juts her chin in the direction of the door, over my shoulder. "The exit is right there."

I grind my teeth, then relinquish my stance. "Alright. It has to do with the Shampai Group and the Kargu clan. Seeing as you are interested in such matters, I thought it only appropriate that—"

"Go on," Shora says quickly, her eyes widening. "What about them?"

I'm taken aback by her sudden change in tone and demeanor. "It's something I heard today. Apparently, there's someone who is encroaching on Kargu territory. He was ratted out by the very people who were supposed to sign a deal—”

Shora slides the tPanel in my direction. "Sign it."

I sign my name as Shora dresses out of her official robes. I don't even have time to celebrate.

Shora throws me a jacket. "Cancel any plans you have for tonight, and let your parents know you'll be in late. You're coming with me."