[https://i.imgur.com/okwQeyi.gif]

In a bulbous classroom at the Secondary School of Axion as several hundred students lined up for their morning game, a scuffle broke out. The problem started with Xavier Mayor. This girl wasn't one of his group.

“Move.” Xavier made some rude and demeaning feathering motions with his hand. “Go somewhere else. I don’t want you here.”

Xavier strutted like the proud prince of the class. His face shouted masculinity from his square jaw, his protruding cheekbones, and his deep-set eyes. His tailored physique rose up taller than most. His shoulders were broad and strong, tapering down to his unnaturally thin waist. And no one could match his powerful augmented quads. He always won the game.

The girl in the wrong place had none of those advantages. She didn’t fit with that juiced and augmented crowd. In fact, her uninspiring features appeared downright miniature next to Xavier. She cowered as she refused.

“No. I’m not moving.”

She wouldn’t even look up at him. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared down at the floor.

“The thing is, I’m good at math.” Her voice sounded nervous and high. Her lower lip quivered when she spoke. She pointed up to a platform about halfway up to the high-bay ceiling of the classroom. Various stations floated above, scattered around the room, such as math, history, science, language, and government. “I want to be here underneath the math station. Anyway, you don’t own this spot. I’m going to stay here.”

Gasps sounded all around her. Somebody talking back to Xavier? Everybody feared for the girl.

“I told you to move, proton.” Xavier emphasized the slur ‘proton’ by spitting the word in the girl’s face. His perfect face glowered as he stooped down to yell at her. It seemed like he swelled to three times her size. “Now spin off.”

Zara Vals had barely slept that week, staying up late into the night, practicing, studying, and then more practicing. The sleep deprivation lowered her inhibitions, making her punchy, bold, and reckless. Before she thought about what she was doing, she jumped into the fray.

The class was supposed to be in a single file, ready for the start of the game. Zara slipped out from where she had been standing and butted in between Xavier and the girl. She smiled at the girl to encourage her before she turned and faced Xavier.

“All those expensive brain implants and that’s the best you can do?” Zara told him. “Spin off? I’d demand your money back. You should look for some better models. Maybe you need an update? Did you check for recalls?”

She poked a finger in his face, his tailored masculine face with its flawless skin and its impeccably square jaw. “Why don’t you spin off?”

[https://i.imgur.com/2ojcECB.gif]

Xavier surrounded himself with his groupies, all of them gawking with incredulity at the interchange. One giggled nearby, “She said what to him?”

Another, “Oh my.”

And a third, “I want to watch this.”

Sure enough, with effortless motion, Xavier shoved Zara so hard that she slammed down on the floor, her tailbone making a horrible thud, arm and legs sprawling like a joke before the entire class.

Conversations stopped. Others might have wanted to say what Zara did, but nobody dared. When their eyes fixed on Xavier, it was with nothing but the highest admiration, watching every move, wherever he went, whatever he did, because he was the winner and the teacher rewarded winners.

“Quiet.”

The teacher appraised the class. It rose above them like a tall and upright insect, with six arms and two legs, narrow black rods for its limbs. Each arm had two elbows and each leg had three knees, with spherical motors for its joints. When it flew throughout the room, it left behind a faint odor of ozone.

[https://i.imgur.com/zYYbVUM.jpg]

“I want everybody to be quiet.” Its red sensors examined them like glowing eyes from its stick-like head, hovering above them. “Zara Vals, you are not lined up.”

And then Zara got the whip—a hot knife stabbed into her forehead, splitting her head wide open, slicing down through her neck and down into her chest. It wouldn’t leave a physical mark, but the pain felt very real. The memory of it lasted.

“I expect you to line up next time.”

The students formed a straight line of green and gold jumpsuits. Everybody was required to wear the same school uniform, pushing and shoving for the most advantageous starting position in the game.

Zara squeezed back in line next to a girl named Samara Piekny. Samara had been molded from her birth by a prominent skeletal artist. Her appearance spoke not only of perfect design but also the wealth to pay for it, while her augmented muscles, brain implants, and sensory improvements gave her skills far above anything Zara could muster.

Samara glared intently at Zara. “Is that a burn mark?” She pointed to a mottled spot on Zara’s left cheek about the size and shape of a baby’s handprint. “Don’t tell me.” She covered her mouth with both hands in an exaggerated display of shock. “Were you born in the public incubators?” Then she laughed, a loud and exaggerated laugh, glancing over to Xavier before turning again on Zara. “So why didn’t you get it fixed?”

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“Because I don’t want a fake plastic face like yours.”

The game would be a competitive exercise, pitting each pupil against their peers in a contest of both intelligence and physical stamina. Zara wanted to win, of course. She had stayed up nights studying so she could win. But now, after the interchange, she especially wanted to beat Xavier and Samara.

While they waited for the start, Samara stomped on Zara’s right shoe with her stiletto heel.

“Ouch.” Zara hopped on her left, holding the foot.

“Oh, what’s wrong?” Samara said. “Did you stub your foot? Well, your shoes look stupid. Aren’t those old Gravedads? Nobody wears those anymore. Do they work? They look too clunky.”

Samara wore sleek and fashionable high-heeled shoes made by Stygs, which boasted the latest in supernatant antigravity balance.

“If I got shoes like yours, would they throw in a fake personality too?”

A blast of red light blossomed above them like a giant mushroom cloud, signaling the start of the game.

[https://i.imgur.com/lWvWQek.gif]

The students leaped into the air. Just at that moment, however, Samara shoved Zara so that she lost her footing. Zara tried to start with them, but flailed, her arms and legs going everywhere. Her bruised tailbone hurt and her toe throbbed. The other students elbowed each other, jostling for position.

“You’re doing it wrong.” Samara spoke down to Zara as if scolding a child. “You have to snap your feet down.” She pointed to Zara’s dirty Gravedads. “That’s how you get those stupid shoes to catch on the air.”

Then Samara charged above Zara, stepping on Zara’s face with the pointed heel of her Stygs, her beautifully tailored quads pumping spectacularly.

Zara spat the metallic taste from her mouth and pedaled frantically, trying to make her feet snap. She trained for this. She studied incessantly for weeks, practicing with her supernatant shoes. The antimatter pods were designed to balance her weight, allowing her to run through the air. But no matter how hard she studied, no matter how much she practiced, it wasn’t working for her. Her feet didn’t snap properly. Not like Samara. Not like anybody else.

[https://i.imgur.com/HVyKVUp.gif]

Xavier, the one tormenting the girl whom Zara had defended, climbed to a big early lead. His magnificent muscles powered him upward with fluid choreography; his supernatant shoes climbed the air like the rungs of a ladder. He was breathtaking to watch. Meanwhile, Zara slugged along at the bottom of the pack. She couldn't catch her breath.

The game challenged the students in many ways. First, it stressed their physical endurance, because it was a competition among the various stations floating throughout the large and billowing classroom. The students raced from one learning station to the next.

And second, the game tested their academic proficiency. The stations were arranged by subjects—math, language, history, science, and of course, the government of Axion. They were tasked to complete every station acceptably before they could run to the finish at the top of the room.

To add another dimension, once they completed their first station, they were encouraged to duel each other with painful stunners. Anyone who got hit would be out of the game, losing the potential scores from their remaining stations and flunking the game for that day.

And just to make everything even more interesting, the teacher put barriers in their paths such as big balloons or things with long, fraying branches like a tree, spreading out quickly and getting in their way. Often, the objects sprouted stinging tentacles. Other times they were sharp needles that jabbed or maybe boulders that fell from the ceiling.

The teachers believed mind and body grew together. It encouraged the students to provoke each other. Competition made them sharper; challenge caused them to work harder. It wanted them to be strong. It wanted winners. Losers would be whipped and admonished to perform better tomorrow.

The girl whom Xavier had tormented grabbed Zara’s hand. “Here, you helped me, now let me help you. I’m Medora. Come with me. Follow my lead.”

With Medora’s help, Zara’s outdated shoes performed somewhat better. Still, they arrived nearly last at the math station. It was a holographic test center like a floating island halfway to the high-bay ceiling. When they crawled up to the platform, it bustled with so many other students that they barely fit. Most used brain implants with memory modules to assist with complex formulas and calculations. Xavier and Sarama boasted top-of-the-line augments—they performed the best.

Zara couldn’t afford those, but she had studied to the point of exhaustion. And for the others, their advantages only made them weak and lazy.

As she opened up a portal, the equations flowed through the air in front of her—multi-dimensional calculus, dynamical systems, and combinatorics. She completed each of them, zooming through the problems, drawing the solutions with her index finger, writing them on the hole board, and getting most of them correct.

[https://i.imgur.com/JlyIHwx.jpg]

Although she arrived towards the back of the pack, she worked the station so quickly that she departed early. The class had spread out amongst the stations, most like Zara starting with their best subjects. Even without overpriced brain implants, she gained ground. She even finished ahead of Medora.

She waved to Medora and sped for astrophysics. Fortunately, sprinting across the air proved easier than climbing straight up. Her tattered and worn-out shoes provided enough lift for running laterally. She worked them like a pedaling action. propelling her forward.

But before Zara reached the next station, she got a big break. Samara had completed the math station before her and ran out ahead in the open air, bound for history. Samara didn't bother to use the cover of obstacles. She didn’t expect that anyone would dare to take her out.

Zara trod the air, softly pedaling, just enough to keep from sinking down. She didn’t want Samara to notice as she removed the stun pistol from her pocket and aimed carefully. Then she took her shot.

Samara cried out, whirling around, a snarl on her sculpted face as if it was inconceivable to her that someone would dare to take her out. “You're nobody. How could you-?”

Stunned, unable to pedal, Samara flipped over, her shoes still holding her aloft but upside-down. Her overturned angry frown appeared like a smile congratulating Zara as she slowly sank downward.

Zara took a deep bow. “I'd like to introduce myself, I'm nobody, and I just took you out of the game.”

Zara swam closer. “So how are those Stygs working for you? Not so good? They look kind of clunky, upside down like that. Maybe you should get a new pair? Would you like to try my Gravedads?” She modeled her dirty and beat-up shoes for Samara, sticking them in her face so she could get a good look. “What do you think? No? Too bad.”

She left Samara dangling in the air as she raced after Xavier.