Ravela settled back into her running routine.
She enjoyed her new life in this small town. Getting to know the locals, socializing with Namon, and learning new things about this world. Everything Ravela did, she did with glee.
Today would be a day of helping out in the school together with Namon once more.
A school without children pondered Ravela as she sped down the path around the lake. Namon said something about an evaluation that he would arrange with the teachers, for Ravela. She wondered how bad that would go.
What did she know of this world? Ravela feared the humiliation of appearing completely ignorant. It was not something she aspired to embody.
Ravela’s mood soured the longer she ran, and the more she thought about what today may mean for her future.
What did this society respect most?
Their history?
Flowery language and knowledge about their literature?
Chemistry, Physics, Biology?
Strength?
The Golden Path?
She knew so shockingly little about this world. Her thoughts darkened as she reached the second town on her morning route.
She got a grasp on the language so recently that she hadn’t yet taken the time to explore society on a broader level. Maybe she’d do well to read more newspapers and history books.
Ravela passed the clearing ahead of Gradjia, deep in thought. She had “amnesia” after all. Surely no one would begrudge her massive ignorance of the world. This sentiment, however, didn’t help to cheer her up.
She reached Ma Stone’s hostel before breakfast, as she always did.
Entering the house through the side door, she noticed Ma Stone in conversation with a man in the main entrance hallway.
Most people wouldn’t be able to listen in from the other side of the house. Luckily, for the curious Ravela, she was not most people.
So she listened in on the last bit of the conversation.
“So we’re moving him around a lot inside the city, and the chief thinks it’d be better to have him out of the city for some time. We’re preparing a few houses to move him around, and I thought it would be a good idea to knock on your door too. You know, the city would pay for him and his babysitters.”
She could hear the hesitation in Ma Stone’s voice as she replied: “I don’t know about this. Is it safe to have him around? Benny, what does your father think about this?”
“Ma, please. I am a detective myself now. He did similar things when he was in the same unit as me. Trust me, I wouldn’t offer this if I thought, for a moment, that he would be trouble, and as long as we move as planned, there should be no other trouble coming through your door. I can ask dad to send a patrol down every day while we keep him in your house if that would make you feel safer. I am sure he would keep an eye out for trouble.”
“Well, I suppose I need the money. Alright, Benny, I will house your guests, but they better not disturb my other customer. Ramiel paid for the whole year in advance, and he has enough to worry about already.”
“Ramiel? That’s a swaddy name. He’s not with one of the families, right? Is he one of those marked clanners?”
Ravela stood silently, waiting for the conversation to continue.
“No, no. Nothing like that. The poor man lost his memory, and your father helped him to get a new temporary identity from Judge Mander. He chose the name himself. At the time, he didn’t even know how to speak our language. He is like us, afreean. Don’t worry about him. He has no tribal marks on his face. Like I would welcome just any roughian into my house, Benny.”
Ravela tilted her head. His father helped her get a temporary identity. Then this man is Thorn’s son?
“I see. I will be sure to brief my colleagues on that, and it is Detective Thorn once I am here with our guest and my men. Can’t have you call me Benny once they’re here. I would drag that back to my department, and trust me it would stick. Anyway, I got to go now. Cases don’t work themselves. See you soon, Ma.”
“That would be, Mrs. Stone then, Benny.”
Ravela could faintly hear a sigh and grinned.
“Alright then, if that is how it has to be. Anything to not go from the ‘new guy’ to ‘Benny’. Goodbye, Mrs. Stone.”
Ma Stone chuckled, this seemed to amuse her a lot. Ravela wondered if she knew this man before he could even walk. If he wasn’t family, he most certainly grew up around her, maybe a friend of one of her children.
Ravela quietly opened the side door again and closed it audibly after half a minute. She made her way through the hallway to the front of the house and met Ma Stone in front of the stairs to the first floor.
“Ramiel, you’re back a bit earlier than usual.” Ma Stone said.
Ravela put on her broadest smile. “Seems like I become faster every day. I will come down for breakfast once I had a bath.”
Ma Stone just nodded her understanding and went into the kitchen.
Once Ravela was in her room, she took off her ring put it on the cosmetic table next to the bathroom, and went to take her well-deserved after-workout bath.
Shaving her head carefully, Ravela enjoyed the routine and luxury of being in civilization and having regular meals and baths.
Ravela put on her ring after her enjoyable time in the bathroom.
Breakfast, as ever, did not disappoint her. She left Ma Stone’s lovely home around the same time she always left. Making her way to the bench in front of the library.
For once, she was first to reach the bench. That was a first in the three months she knew Keeper Namon.
She sat down waiting, enjoying the still chilly morning air before the heat rose together with the sun.
She looked at the park, she had sat in a few months prior, on the other side of the road. Spring had come and gone, and her outlook on life was far different from the time she pondered what face to wear in this alien world.
Ravela’s mind wandered. The town was up earlier than usual. People were already hurrying around. That was highly unusual, Ravela thought.
Ravela observed as Keeper Namon slowly made his way through the park. The tall man stopped directly opposite her on the other side of the street. Looking left, then right, Namon crossed the street the same way he moved, deliberately slow and thoughtful.
“Blessed day, Ramiel. You’re here earlier than usual, I believe?” Namon greeted his ward.
“Blessed day, Keeper Namon. The way I see it, something held you up on your way here. Because I most certainly am not earlier than usual. Ma Stone doesn’t serve breakfast earlier, so I can't possibly be here earlier.” Ravela dismissed the man's claim.
“Is that so?” Namon mused. “Well, then we should get going. We have a lot on our plate today. It is almost summer break, and the teachers are done with their preparations. Let's see if we can’t jog your memory a bit.”
Ravela got up from the bench. “I wouldn’t count on it, but we can certainly try.”
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Namon ushered Ravela along with a simple open-palmed gesture.
They walked down the sidewalk together. The town was brimming with life. People put out decorations and placed ornaments. Elderly women and mothers whose children probably weren’t that young anymore stood in front of the butchers in neat lines. The inside of the store was bursting with customers.
On the central plaza, a farmer's market was overrun by the townsfolk.
“What is it about today? Everybody is chasing through the town.” Ravela commented.
“Oh, the autumn break is about to happen, which means all the older kids are returning home for four months. It is an event you’ll find in every town in the Unified States. Two months of pure holidays for the kids and two months of preparatory lessons in town. Does that not move anything in your heart, Ramiel?”
Ravela shook her head. “It does not, sorry.”
Namon took the long route through the market, and Ravela followed along. The products on display were diverse, and had she not eaten breakfast recently, she might have been tempted to test some of the goods on display.
“Blessed day, farmer Craylin. How is the harvest this year?” Namon said not for the first time while passing a stall full of vegetables.
After a bit more chit-chat with the locals, Keeper Namon and Ravela reached the school.
The headmaster awaited their arrival at the front door.
Ravela had the pleasure of meeting Headmaster Nju a few times before but only in passing. He was a popular man who was always whisked away on one errand. Yet, she seldom saw him in a hurry. She liked that about the man, it made him look in control even when he was dealing with an emergency.
Today she however saw a hint of stress on the good man's face. He probably didn’t find it ideal to have this thorough check on Ramiel done one day before his pupils returned for their holiday.
Their pace now matched the headmaster's steps. Ravela took note of the various classrooms where multiple teachers worked through documents and argued over blackboards filled with bullet points.
Park Nju stopped in front of the only classroom whose doors were closed.
“Alright, before we enter I want to ask you a question; What makes a good education?”, headmaster Nju inquired.
Ravela was confused by the question. “Educating the young on the knowledge and traditions of the community they grow into. Guiding them toward shared values and enabling them to add to the wisdom of civilization once they reach adulthood.”
Headmaster Nju took that answer in with a neutral expression. He tilted his head slightly to the left and then to the right as if to weigh her answer.
“I see that is certainly a view one could have. However, we don’t indoctrinate ‘the young’ into our worldviews. We don’t aim to have them see the world we do. All things considered, your definition of education seems optimistic. Maybe something in you still knows the fun of being in school and learning. Very good, then let us see what you lost due to your circumstances, young man.”
With these words, he opened the door to a small classroom. Waiting inside were eight teachers that were far older than the headmaster himself.
“Blessed day to you all.” Ravela greeted. She earned some stern nods and some curt smiles.
Headmaster Nju introduced them one by one.
“These are the teachers I’ve asked to test you. To make the best of a difficult situation the younger teachers are now stuck preparing the last few touch-ups themselves. This a valuable lesson for them once they need to take full responsibility. We would like this to be a private evaluation, but you can of course be accompanied by keeper Namon if you want him to be there.”
Ravela looked at keeper Namon and considered leaving him out for this evaluation. She decided against it because on one hand, she learned to value his guidance, and on the other, she felt a strange sense of kinship with him.
“Keeper Namon is always welcome as far as I am concerned. He aided me, and all the progress I owe to him.”
“Alright then without further delay, let’s get to it.”
Ravela’s first test was conducted by the teacher Faustina Lumen, an elderly woman teaching this country's language. Ravela had become fluent in Yoruba.
Her spelling and grammar, however, were still lacking. Teacher Lumen tormented her for two hours on vocabulary, punctuation, and intonation.
Ravela was found lacking in many areas the results gravely damped her confidence in her ability to speak. Her grilling session on Yoruba ended with a soothing remark from teacher Lumen.
“Because, four months ago, you retained no knowledge of the language you did remarkably well. Keep up this pace, young man.”
Ravela’s battered ego felt at least a bit mollified.
After the hybrid language test followed the mathematics teacher. A haughty woman took on this task. She handed Ravela her first task.
“Ramiel, the two pages contain very easy entry-level mathematical tasks. I ask that you explain your thoughts to me and your process of how you solved them. And please do write down the steps you take to arrive at your solution. If you do not know how to solve a task leave it untouched.”
Ravela looked at the two pages. They contained the simplest of math problems.
Addition, subtraction, multiplication, division, percentiles, and at the end a text problem.
After solving the two pages while explaining her process to teacher Mokh, Ravela thought she was done. Ravela learned that she was wrong when the next stack of paper was placed before her.
Her brain went into a rather automated formula summoning mode. Concepts and solutions just paced through her mind.
She was confident that the technology potion was doing some serious support work for her. Ravela tried to remember if she could have solved these problems without those potions. She’d have to do some soul-searching, later on, to finally come to a firm conclusion about who she had been before and who or what she was now.
While she was solving the pages explaining her solutions Ravela didn’t even notice how fast she went through these problems.
Teacher Mokh changed her attitude by the end of the second paper.
“Well, I must say this is some fine work. To think that a man who lost all his words retained such a comprehensive grasp on mathematics. It seems your abilities match those I expect young adults to have upon graduating. Fascinating. If keeper Namon hadn’t vouched for your memory loss I would have trouble believing it.”
She walked back to her spot among the teachers sat down and signaled the next challenger to take their shot. Ravela enjoyed how suddenly teacher Mokh appeared the happiest among the scholars.
But she was far from done. Teacher Golian walked toward her, a slow-paced waddle. He was slightly overweight and didn’t look like he expected a lot.
“My subject is history as mentioned before. But before we start I would like to know a few things.”
Ravela smiled a pained smile. She knew she was about to get positively obliterated and although her defense of memory loss was accepted the kick her ego was about to receive would hurt her pride.
“Please, ask away, Mr. Golian.”
He hummed his approval.
“What is the current year?”
Ravela responded effortlessly. “The current year is 4648.”
Teacher Golian stroked his beard. “Yes, could you perchance tell me the calendar you’re using here?”
Ravela looked at him. Flatfooted.
“No, I can’t.”, she admitted deflating visibly.
“I was afraid that would be the case. I don’t believe you would be able to pass the first quiz I prepared. Would you agree with this assertion?
“You’re correct. I don’t for a moment believe I could answer any of it.”
Mr. Golian sighed. “Such a shame. But we at least know that you need to study history on a broad spectrum. So instead of wasting your time, I have taken the liberty to prepare an alternative to the test.”
He put away the test paper and walked back to his bag. He produced a folder from its depths.
“This here is roughly 100 pages. It contains a timeline of our calendar up to the most recent historical events. The events before our country's founding are very much condensed. Our nation and its structure are explained in greater detail. The founding text and the constitution are complementary to the Unified States’ history.”
He held up to small paperback booklets and put them and the folder on a desk beside Ravela.
“Please study up on these. They are what makes this nation unique.”
The man had spared Ravela the humiliation of answering ‘I don’t know.’ for two hours or more and just through that earned her appreciation.
Ravela waited for the next teacher to walk up.
Physics teacher Maricus slowly got up. His white beard swayed slightly as he walked up.
“Mr. Roice, I would like to test your comprehension of physical phenomena. I have with me five pages of various problems. Minor trivialities really to see your understanding of basic physics. Please have a look at them at let me know your thoughts.”
Ravela took the paper from him nervously. Looking at the diagrams she recognized many principles that were portrayed immediately.
Displacement, levers, velocity, friction, acceleration, air resistance, the flow of electricity, magnetic fields, and gravity. Many of these she knew without really knowing the principles behind them. Her brain however was flooded with a variety of formulas.
She didn’t know many of the constants of this dimension, but Alexander Maricus wasn’t bothered by her lack of knowledge of numbers. Rather he was fascinated by the principles she remembered and the answers she gave.
“Do you have any idea how you know these things?” Maricus inquired.
Ravela shook her head to which Alexander Maricus shook his head in disappointment. “To think you lost your speech and all history knowledge but remained competent in mathematics and physics. How odd, yet delightful.”
Ravela didn’t exactly share the teacher's fascination, for she knew why she didn’t know anything about history or literature in this world.
Four more subjects she endured after physics.
Biology, Ravela managed decently.
After that Chemistry. Ravela knew a lot about that but lacked the correct frame to put it to good use. With the support of the teacher, she managed to perform well.
Geography was a complete bust. Ravela was thoroughly ashamed of her performance. The teacher however looked even more crestfallen than she felt. Ravela thought that the last three teachers before him had skewed his expectations of her. She loathed proving him wrong.
The last subject was Art. Ravela was a bit puzzled at that. But the teacher was very insistent, that a school should see that aspects of life extended to creative work as well.
She failed every theoretical question but her practical drawings came out wonderful, as far as sketches go.
After a full day inside the classroom with a minor break for lunch Ravela left the school building with keeper Namon knackered.
The farmer’s market was in the middle of closing down. Most people had already cleared out. Keeper Namon walked out together with Ravela and was deep in contemplation.
Ravela wondered what he was thinking after this day of what must have been boring school regurgitation.
Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by two honking motorcycles. On it, two young men hollering and screaming. Ravela felt her temples throb at the obnoxious noise.
Keeper Namon was pulled out of his contemplation and furrowed his brows.
“The Kordo brothers are back in town. Wonderful. I have to go back to my office and call Chief Thorn. Ramiel, please do excuse me, those two spell all sorts of trouble and I have a bad feeling about this.”
Ravela was left behind with a new pool of knowledge to study and somewhat miffed that her goodbye to someone she considered a friend by now was cut short.
Ravela looked at her feet. A friend. That thought stirred a great many unclear emotions in her.
Her way home was plastered with questions about history, just not the history of this world but the history of herself. Ravela so far had endured some weird dreams that switched between reliving her dimensional torment and bits and pieces of different sequences. Some from her life on Mars fought in gladiatorial battles.
She looked up at the sky. Mars. Domed cities duking out their squabbles through the brutal City War League. Ravela sat down on the bank by the lake and closed her eyes.
She was no longer in Ramiel’s or Ravela’s body. She stood in a modified arena simulating city blocks. Stun projectile fire and other tech rained through her current floor.
Finals. They were in the finals. And the whole solar system got to watch them getting their asses whooped. In her memory, she screamed in frustration.
She was holding this floor as a last active countermeasure. As long as she remained on this floor her team could still turn the game around.
Her memory wobbled through the combat. The crowd was positively elated she had never heard them this excited. Ravela spotted her team with the enemy flag. Well, what was left of her team, at least.
The memory became suddenly muddled. Next, she stood together with her 24 teammates in front of their fan block. Trophy in hand. Thousands of cameras recorded them singing and chanting.
The crowd suddenly was silent. Red lights flashed up all around. Everybody ran, but not Ravela. She turned around as if in trance.
Up in the orbit above her city, a gigantic ship had taken position. At its center, a white glowing light began to form. The flicker was the last thing she notice…then there was only pain.
Ravela opened her eyes, her temples sweating. She remembered now at least a bit of her former life. Her yearning for a different path in life was understandable.
Ravela was surprised at her disdain for her former profession. She got up from the bank. If she dallied any longer she’d miss dinner, and meals were not to be skipped.
This Ravela felt with a unison conviction.