Lumia

She had lost her way. There were so many winding halls and curving corridors that it was easy for Lumia to get stranded in the wrong portion of the school, or walk past her designated building, or even land on the wrong floor—that one bothered her the most.

Though King’s College appeared like a set of simple, if not over-architectured, somewhat-rectangular buildings, their internals were anything but simple. Some halls would draw gradually upwards until Lumia found herself surrounded by labs filled with terminals, while following a hall east—or starboard, depending on who you spoke to—somehow landed her in the northern-most wing of the school.

After some fiddling around with her meus, and a few panicked messages from her confused classmates, Lumia was eventually guided to their classroom on the top floor, assuming one could tell the difference between floors in such a chaotic layout. It was their only classroom, apparently. From what she could gleam from their assigned schedules, they stayed in room Neutron-9 through most of the day.

Lumia slammed open the door, preparing an apology for her tardiness, only to find that their Educator hadn’t arrived yet. Her classmates stared up at her confused, likely wondering why Lumia was so hurried. Thankfully, and to her complete intrigue, only Class Euripides was in this room. Embarrassed at her Her cheeks reddened, then Lumia planted herself at the nearest desk and set up her terminal before the Educator arrived.

She had expected there to be more students in this classroom just like during morning exercise, but it appeared they were being taught separately, isolated from the rest of the students. Perhaps that was normal. Either way, she was a disappointed. Lumia would have loved to speak to others and learn new perspectives on Plato and school life. Even so…

This is so exciting! Lumia thought, propping the flat device up on its built-in stand. She was here, in a real classroom, wearing a real school uniform, sitting at a real desk. She’d only ever read about school life back in her home, on the limited device that Plato had provided her for her education. Her walk down the path to Ascension began for her sister’s sake—and for her own comfort, she had to admit, as a life spent studying under the vengeful eye of the Crick was far better than one wasted labouring for her next meal. Still, it was wonderful to be here, as a real student, and not just daydreaming about it between four cracked and moulding walls, a cage for her studies so confined there was barely any room to sit.

Suppressing her grin so as not to look so goofy, she flipped open then adjusted her terminal—a laptop, she’d heard it called—so that it sat straight, placed her meus beside it, straightened that, and opened the assigned textbook. Last night, Lumia had stayed up late playing with her laptop, testing its features. Giddy at a chance to employ her discoveries, she tapped open a textbook then reduced its window and dragged it to one side of a screen. She sorted through her folders, which Tock had helped her to set up and organise according to their class schedule, and created a new document for note-taking in one of them. She opened that and placed its window on the other side of her terminal’s screen so that she could take notes while reading her textbook.

It was an act that any Platonian could achieve from the age of four, but that’s what made it all the more exciting. She was a Platonian, now. Well, maybe she was being too hasty.

“Lumia, what are you doing?” asked Leo.

She spun, fixing a smile to her face, horrified by the possibility that she had unknowingly done something she ought not to. Rows of tables sloped up gently, presumably so that the students seated in back could see over the heads of those in front. Roughly in the middle of the room, the rest of Class Euripides sat in a cluster. They eyed Lumia curiously, like she had performed some outlandish deed. Lumia’s cheeks went crimson.

“Come sit closer,” Leo chuckled. “It’s like you’re in a different class all the way over there.”

“Of course, I’m sorry. I’ll be there in a hurry,” she responded automatically.

Lumia turned back to her terminal and thought to snatch it right up and dash over there. However, would that not have been more embarrassing than remaining where she was? She’d only just got comfortable and shifting positions now would require her to readjust herself, her terminal, her meus, and otherwise repeat a process which had been cathartic enough. Furthermore, Morgan was giving her a rather uncomfortable stare which provided Lumia all the more reason to stay exactly where she was.

Yet, she really wanted to sit with her classmates. In its own right, it was embarrassing being so isolated when everyone else was being social, including Morgan!

Oh, I’ve been sitting taciturn for far too long. If I say nothing they’ll think my head’s all wrong.

Making a decision, Lumia reached for her terminal. Then the door slid open and she froze. Their Educator walked in, her heels clacking on the tiles. Lumia’s hands snapped back into her lap.

“It’s good to see you’re on time, class,” the Educator spoke.

Lumia sat as straight as she could manage. She recognised their Educator immediately. Educator Rousseau had been one of the three who had monitored the first test. The leggy, beautiful blonde strode up to a sole desk at the front of the room as though it were as natural as breathing. Her hair was kept in a bun with, of all things, a fountain pen—Lumia had only seen a fountain pen in pictures and she had expected that’s the only place she would find one, as ink had been abandoned long ago due to its wastefulness. With every step Educator Rousseau took, with every vague swish of her hand, with every sharp gaze that fell upon her starstruck students, there seemed a deeper purpose that Lumia could not begin to grasp. Had she been living in Glassfall, Lumia was certain that the Cricks would have gone to war over her, to possess her.

Though Lumia had been excited to attend a class for the first time, now that it had officially begun, she couldn’t stop her hands from shaking. Was it just nerves, or perhaps fear that she would embarrass herself further, this time before such a gorgeous Educator? Or maybe she was simply uncomfortable being monitored so closely. Regardless, she planted her bottom in her chair and decided she would enjoy this awkward front-and-corner spot—or at least act as though she did.

Educator Rousseau tapped on her terminal and the wall behind her ignited with colour, as though the wall itself was a screen, the school directly interfacing with the intranet. It displayed, what Lumia assumed, were the contents of Educator Rousseau’s screen. The Educator tapped her terminal again and it brought up a lecture slide.

“In this class, we’ll be studying ecology and the impact that Earth’s decaying climate,” her lesson began. She fixed a blank stare on each of them, one at a time, then lowered her gaze, and looked up again. “I just want to say that even if you fail and are expelled from this school, then I hope you take these lessons to heart. What you learn in this class will likely be impractical, maybe too elementary, for future studies, but it will help you understand exactly what challenge we face.” Her gaze grew firm, heated. “Nothing will be held back in this class. You are all mature enough to learn just how desperate our fight is. So I will tell you everything, no matter how bleak it seems. This is your future as well as mine. Is that clear?”

In unison, Class Euripides recited, “Yes, Educator Rousseau.” All except Lumia, of course, who whipped her head back in astonishment at hearing them chant.

When she turned to the front again, Educator Rousseau was drilling a gaze right into her. Lumia realised this was a custom she had just broken and responded in a hurry.

“Yes, Educator Rousseau.”

The Educator nodded. “Turn to chapter fourteen-point-one. Today’s class will be used to recap our existing knowledge on Earth’s current ecosystems. Who recalls how much flora has disappeared from Earth since 1900 CE?”

Morgan raised her hand immediately. Educator Rousseau nodded her way and all eyes turned to her. The tanned girl stood stiffly with her hands pinned to her sides. Usually, Morgan showed faint traces of nervousness when others placed their attention on her, but today her eyes were wide and eager and she remained completely fixated on their mesmerising Educator. When she spoke, her pitch was a little high.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“There are a few different estimates, Educator Rousseau, but the most commonly used is from the School of Ecology’s XM-17 report, year 307 AA, which estimated a ninety-two percent loss of pre-Renewal plant life since 1900 CE.”

Educator Rousseau nodded. “Correct. And does anyone know how much of Earth’s stable ecology was replaced with destructive flora species?”

Morgan sat then raised her hand again. Lumia highly considered raising her own hand, since this seemed to be something that the Educator expected of them and she too knew the answer, but her nerves kept her hands in her lap. Educator Rousseau calmly nodded at Morgan, who stood again.

“Nine percent of the Earth’s surface is covered by the invasive species known as venefinis, according to a joint report from the School of Ecology and the Guardian Threat Assessment Division. These species have been shown to destabilise the soil and air wherever they grow. If a venefinis culture can be spotted in any land, then it is likely that all complex lifeforms not compatible with it will have been virtually pushed out.”

“Not ‘virtually’,” Educator Rousseau stated. “Nor ‘pushed out’. The ecosystem that venefinis creates for itself is toxic to most other life forms. That species will be dead or dying.”

Morgan nodded her acceptance of the correction and sat. Educator Rousseau continued.

“Then, Lumia,” she said, nodding the nervous girl’s way. Lumia perked up and a smile split her face. “Since you’re sitting alone, I imagine you’re more focused on your studies. Can you tell us what caused the growth of venefinis?”

Licking her lips, Lumia stood so abruptly that she knocked her chair into the elevated desk behind her. Alan stifled a laugh, which caught him a sharp glare from Educator Rousseau. He blushed and apologised, which caught him a jab in one side from Tock and one in the other from Leo.

Lumia bowed low, then wanted to slap herself when she remembered that bowing was not customary in Plato. Now feeling like a complete fool, she snapped up straight and said in a rush, “We did, Educator.” Realising how stupid she sounded, she cleared her throat and tried again. “Humanity was desperate for a replacement to the world’s rapidly dying plant life, so a plan was hatched to create a species of flora that would survive the ensuing ecological collapse. This is referred to as the Renewal. That plan both succeeded and failed. Venefinis is hardy and adaptable, but it was partly responsible for the collapse of Earth’s remaining ecosystems.”

Educator Rousseau gave Lumia one of her sagely nods, which the embarrassed girl took as a sign to be seated. She plonked herself back in her chair and tried to think of anything that would prevent her cheeks from burning.

“Lumia! Stop being a venefinis and join your classmates,” Leo cried.

“Ah, coming,” Lumia squeaked, scraping up her things.

Now that the Educator was gone and they were between classes, this was the perfect opportunity for Lumia to engage in a social manner with her classmates. She scurried up three rows then sidled in next to Raphael. Beside him was Morgan, and in the next row up were Leo, Alan, and Tock. Lumia’s possessions cluttered back onto the table and she never managed to align them as neatly as before.

“Sorry,” Lumia whimpered. “I was going to join you—I wasn’t thinking to neglect—but then the Educator showed up and to move would have been incorrect.”

“Aw, why’d you bring the venefinis here,” Tock chuckled. “Now she’s going to eat us all.”

“That is absurd,” Morgan butted in, folding her arms. “Plants do not eat living creatures, not even venefinis. Even carnivorous plants do not technically eat, but rather digest their prey.”

“But the insects do,” Raphael added, then shrugged. “Well, it’s more like the insects that live in venefinis cultures eat everything. Then they feed the nutrients back to the venefinis, in exchange for maintaining the ecosystem that a venefinis creates.”

“Can we talk about anything but human-eating plants,” Alan growled.

“For the last time,” Morgan growled, “they do not eat people.”

Just at that moment, the door slid open and their next Educator walked in. Well, “walked” did not describe it properly. It was more like the Educator exuded in, dragging his feet one laborious step at a time, until he was standing before the Educator’s desk. He plonked down a thick flat terminal—a tablet, was what they called this model—then cracked open a drink canister. Bitter fumes tingled Lumia’s nose. The Educator drank long and greedily from the canister, and Lumia cocked an eyebrow wondering what exactly would make a man imbibe himself as though he was dying of thirst.

Raphael must have spotted her perplexity because he leaned in and whispered, “Coffee. Mild stimulant. Waste of agricultural resources. Distributed sparsely.”

Lumia nodded her thanks. The Educator put his canister down, picked up his terminal, and then his brows knitted.

“This is a math class. You’re here to learn. Split.”

The students exchanged a look before standing. Lumia, feeling like a complete fool, hopped back to her original seat in the front corner. If she had just stayed there, she would not have been reprimanded!

That’s what I get for trying to be social. Oh, but I can’t not be nice at all. Either way I’m a fool.

She had recognised this Educator the moment he had walked in. Deep set tired eyes, light stubble around the chin, short messy hair, a shirt that looked like it had been slept in, and a look that said that he could not wait for the world to end. Educator Arthur. The one who had led the first test. The one who had drilled Lumia for every scrap of information on her past, her life under the Crick, and her sister in the interview following the test.

The other students seemed to share Lumia’s sentiments. Morgan appeared bitter, sulky even. Leo refused to move from his chair, forcing everyone else to spread to all corners from the room. Tock trailed Alan then seated herself two chairs away from him. That caught her a glare from Educator Arthur, and she move another chair apart. After another glare, she moved a fourth. Raphael refused to make eye contact with the Educator.

Sniffling, Educator Arthur picked up his terminal and connected it wirelessly with the wall screen. “Two things,” he grumbled. “One, your assignments start next week. Consider this a warmup period to get Class Euripides used to our expectations. Two.” He paused and eyed them all. “If you can’t keep up, you don’t deserve to be here.”

With that, the lesson began. It was calculus, a subject which Lumia had no love for yet absorbed nonetheless. To Lumia, it was nothing but a set of arbitrary rules applied for reasons that eluded her. Educator Arthur meant what he said about this being a warmup. He belted ahead, giving Lumia time neither to finish jotting down his extensive, rambling notes nor a chance to steel her nerves for when his lifeless, condescending gaze passed over her. She understood exactly why she feared him: Educator Arthur accepted nothing but the best, and it was far too easy for Lumia to make a misstep in her calculations.

But mostly, the lesson awed her. She’d never been pushed this hard before, and it allowed her to appreciate just how little she knew, and how much there was to learn. This was exactly what she had hoped for when she first entered Plato: to learn the truths of the world that few could fathom. With that hidden knowledge she may find a way to reverse the tides of environmental collapse, so that her sister could be spared from a world of constant hunger.

The students struggled for a time and tensions were slowly rising: a light gasp at a note too late to be recorded, a hand raised that was subsequently ignored, gestures of exasperation, the occasional reprimand from Educator Arthur over something trivial. They were all getting fed up.

Leo was the first to break.

“Oh, go jump off the Edge. Am I not allowed to ask questions?”

Educator Arthur’s mouth twisted in frustration. “You’re interrupting the lesson. If you have questions then ask me after class.”

“Why? Is your class time too precious to give up even a minute?”

“Yes,” the Educator replied deadpan. “Every second is precious, so stop wasting my time.”

The room grew tense. Opposed to Educator Arthur’s intent, everyone had stopped working to watch the argument play out. Leo grew louder and more animated, while Educator Arthur became cold and firm. Nobody came to Leo’s aid. Nobody interrupted the Educator.

Leo huffed and shook his head. “Oh, alright, guess I’ll forget what I wanted to ask and never figure out the answer.”

“You can write the question down for later.”

“I can’t, because I don’t have time. You’re cramming so much useless crap into the lesson.”

“That means you’re not able to keep up.”

“Oh, sorry for not being a computer.”

Scowling, Arthur slapped his tablet onto the desk. “Leo, don’t bug me. You’ve been making stupid noises all lesson. I know you have a problem with me and if you won’t shut up I can spell it out for the rest of the class.”

That gave Leo pause. He stared daggers at Arthur but said nothing. The Educator snatched up his coffee cannister.

“This lesson is harsh. I know. I made it that way. If you can’t handle that, request a transfer to another school. But if you can succeed in my class then you’ll be capable of anything. This is the nature of Class Euripides. And I can prove to you it’s possible. Morgan.”

The black-haired girl’s eyes popped open and darted about the room, seeking escape. Perhaps realising that was futile, she stood and fixed her hands to her side. “Yes, Educator Arthur?”

“Answer this question.”

He tapped on his terminal and an equation appeared on the screen. Morgan glanced down at her terminal, nodded, sat, brushed a strand of hair aside, then took her stylus. Her handwriting appeared on the wall screen. A few minutes later, the question was correctly answered. Lumia knew that before Educator Arthur delivered a hollow, “Good.” Morgan had followed the method for solving that question exactly as the Educator had instructed ten minutes earlier.

Educator Arthur glared at Leo. “Now stop wasting my time.”

Leo shook his head, his expression bitter. But Morgan seemed almost giddy, like she had accomplished the greatest feat of her life. She turned to Lumia and her expression shifted to one of fierce determination, before she put her head back down in her terminal.

What was that about?