“Mr. Albi?”

Khrystal had one hand raised, elbow propped atop her other wrist—a pose which reflected a pre-planned obstinacy.

The teacher peered out over unstylish glasses, pausing his lecture mid-sentence, then nodded permission.

“How come none of us ever moved out to the open sea? How come we’re stuck here by the shelf? How come there’re so few techno cities along the old coast? Why haven’t we gone places like the history books say we did before?”

Her teacher absorbed the rapid-fire grilling without expression. A patient sort, with an affinity for hard-luck cases, he’d always listen willingly, though he was less likely to actually take the bait.

“I’ll tell you what, Ms. Khrystal, what’s say you and I meet up after class and have a good long search for those answers. Okay?”

Khrystal deflated. After class? Seriously? Her disruption technique had failed so thoroughly. She tapped her fingers on the desk, scowling as Mr. Albi moved on. Fine, she thought. Be boring about it.

Calistya’s hand shot up. “I’ll join you guys, if it’s okay.”

A ripple of relief gave Khrystal a calming feeling. It was just like her best bestie to volunteer for extra duty. She knew Khrys needed her. She had a passing thought, I’d do the same in Cali’s shoes, but the rise of yuck in her throat told her otherwise.

She kept quiet for the rest of the class, making sure not to get any additional punishments tacked on. When the last chime sounded and everyone else filtered out, she went straight to the teacher’s desk and sat down.

Mr. Albi waved at her to move it, and took the seat for himself, rubbing his legs and wincing.

“Mr. Albi, why didn’t you ever get the full works?” Khrystal asked. “You didn’t wanna be whole?”

Coming from another, it might’ve been seen as offensive—but Khrystal was nothing if not curious. She wasn’t purposefully offensive.

Knowing that, he smiled. “I’ve just always liked my legs right where they were, I suppose. I mean, we can always suit up, can’t we? I suppose I just found the limitations outweighed the benefits.”

The limitations were real. Full technoquatic ‘merfolk’ couldn’t move about in neighborhoods with lots of dry space, for instance. Pools and tanks had had to be installed to accommodate them in the early days, something Mr. Albi himself had taught them.

Their school for the orphaned had several full-mers on staff, in fact, and a few classrooms featured a teaching tank for just that reason. As those were the nicest rooms, the teachers sometimes complained about unfairness when they thought the students weren’t listening. ‘mer privilege’ and the like.

‘Maybe that’s why Mr. Albi stays half-tech’, Khrystal thought. ‘To have something to complain about’. She laughed inwardly.

But the tanks were unobtrusive, built right into the rooms. When no one was swimming them, they made for nice decorations. Like fishtanks with no fish. Most places were like that. And there were amazing benefits: the cool factor, for one. It really was prestigious to be a mer. Plus all the fully aquatic zones that were supposedly all-access, but being geared up wasn’t practical. Most of all, the ability to live a fully 3D lifestyle, embracing their environment like an ocean dweller should. Khrystal couldn’t see much downside.

"When they let me, I’m getting the full treatment," Khrystal announced, though her confidence wavered inside. Visions of the gold and shiny treasures it would take sank her spirits, but she pushed them down and raised her voice. "I will be a mermaid, you just watch me." The words felt as much for herself as for the room.

“And that’ll be very good for you, my dear. It’s just not for everybody. Now, let’s turn to our history texts and review the great plunge of civilization…”

* * *

The headmaster and Mr. Albi spoke often about what to do with Khrystal. Her marks were extraordinary. Extraordinarily bad. History class was the only course she was passing at all, and that had something to do with Albi’s rather generous grading curve. Her other courses were abysmal, and it seemed likely that she’d fail out of school altogether. As it stood, her skillset pointed to a custodial role. Nothing to be ashamed of, but hardly an aspirational position. More a position to take for a period of time, before higher education for instance, rather than the end result of a scholastic career.

Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

But there it was. She was in trouble.

“Is there any…I don’t know. Any extra-curricular interests that might suit our girl?” the headmaster asked.

Mr. Albi chuckled. “Is sea-unicorn riding an extra-curricular activity we might consider starting up?”

“Hmm?”

“Nothing. Just thinking aloud. No, I think our Ms. Khrystal will just have to work things out for herself. I fear her path lies elsewhere from academics. Perhaps one of the trades?”

* * *

The headmaster met with all the primary teachers for all the students periodically, and as vexing as the Khrystal situation was, he had other pupils to attend to.

Today he was meeting with Calistya’s primary, Ms. Terri, which proved to be a far more uplifting conference. Calistya was one of the school’s most promising students, with high marks in just about every subject, save literature. Given the fact that Ms. Terri was her literature teacher as well as primary, it would give them a good chance to discuss how to get Calistya’s marks in literature in line with everything else.

Calistya held so much promise, it was possible she could become the school’s only higher-education candidate. Higher-education was normally a field reserved for wealthy merfolk and their offspring. With a degree from the higher learning center, one could find themselves working as a city planner, a healer perhaps, or even mayor one day. For an orphan such as Calistya, these opportunities were a phenomenal break from the usual merchant-class lifestyle such youngsters generally settled into.

Ms. Terri was expressing concern for Calistya’s budding relationship with the one-year-older Khrystal.

“Ah, Khrystal. Yes, that certainly is a worry,” said the headmaster, “wouldn’t want any bad influences to gum up the works. That poor girl is going nowhere, and the last thing we want is for our Calistya to follow her down.”

“They’re very close,” Ms. Terri said, “and I’d hate to break them apart without good reason. They don’t have many friends outside of each other.”

“Be that as it may, Calistya should be encouraged to spend time with other high achievers. Like herself.”

Ms. Terri nodded, but she knew that was easier said than done. Calistya was flighty, and didn’t take to others so easily. She’d been distant from all the merkids until she and Khrystal had grown close.

“I’ll do what I can,” Ms. Terri promised, “see if I can’t get Khrystal to start following Calistya’s lead, rather than the other way ‘round.”

* * *

“Saw Ms. Terri going into Headmaster Oliver’s office,” Khrystal said. “Becha they’re talkin’ about us.”

“Who knows?” Calistya said. “There’s a million students they need to deal with. We’re quiet and keep to ourselves. What’s to talk about?”

“Speak for yourself,” Khrystal said, laughing, “I’m not quiet, and I make everybody’s business mine.” She laughed harder, kicking up her feet.

“Watch it!” said Calistya. “You’ve got sand.”

“Do not.”

“Do too. You went swimming at lunch, didn’t you?”

“Who didn’t?”

“So, you’ve got sand.”

“I didn’t go anywheres near sand,” Khrystal retorted, examining her feet. “And besides, I wore a fin. Where would the sand go?”

“It gets everywhere. I hate it.”

“Well,” she sputtered, on the defensive, “who doesn’t?“

Calistya’s expression softened. “Actually, I read somewhere about beach sand. It’s supposed to be nice. Fine. Pure white sometimes.”

“Yeah, well we’ve got no beaches down here. And what there is is all wet and soppy. And I didn’t get any on myself, thank you much.”

Whatever,” Calistya said, her voice growing distracted. “So you think the headmaster’s talking about us, do you?”

“Maybe not us. Just me. He hates me you know. Wants to expel me. He’s got it all worked out.”

“No, that’s not true. They want you to do better, that’s all.”

“Tell you what, I’ll get him first though.”

“What do you mean?”

“I set him up. Wrote a letter to the city, saying he,”—she started giggling mock-maniacally—”he beats us and tortures us and we can’t get away!”

“You did not!”

“Did.” She smirked, holding out a notebook. Across the top, in her messy scrawl, were the words: ‘Dear Magistrate of the City,’. It felt ridiculous, even to her—but she loved the way it sounded, and the sense of control it promised, even if it was just a fantasy.

“You’re not going to send it, are you?”

“I dunno. Maybe if he ticks me off enough,” Khrystal answered, pensive now.

“That’s awful,” Calistya said. “You shouldn’t.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Khrystal made as if tired of the conversation, though the emotional sinking feeling she had was of a friend’s disapproval. Calistya had a way of making her feel small, without meaning to.

“I’m serious. Tear it up.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Good. Feel like a swim tomorrow after class?” Calistya asked, trying to ease Khrystal’s discomfort by changing the subject. “A real swim, head to the aquacenter and stretch our fins.”

“They’re not real, you know. We don’t actually have fins.”

The condescension was uncalled for, and Cali felt a wave of shame hit her for daring to entertain the fantasy, nevermind that Khrystal went along with it most days. She was just in a mood, they both said ‘fins’ all the time, dreaming of a time they could truly say it. Lots of young people did.

“Fine, we don’t. Do you want to swim anyways, or not?”

Khrystal shrugged. “Sure, I guess. Why not.”

Calistya sighed, rolling away from her friend. “Would it kill you to show a little enthusiasm?”

“Maybe,” Khrys replied. “I’ll try it sometime. See if I drop dead.” Her laughter filled the room as she kicked sand over onto Cali’s kelp-frond woven bedding.