The Academy Read online

  My home and Kristopher’s was located on Dianna, the third moon of Hera, the methane planet. The journey on the inter-system shuttle to Ares took most of the morning but I didn’t mind. I watched with interest as the pilot boarded the shuttle and entered his secured compartment. I couldn’t understand the bored look on his face. Flying from one moon to another was exciting—Kristopher and I had only ever been to another moon once when our father took us to a show on Gaia for our twelfth birthday. This is what I want, I thought, looking though the clear plastiglass window which showed the vast ringed side of Zeus looming near. To fly, to explore, to be free. And if this is the only way to do it, I’ll take my chances.

  I looked at my reflection in the window and ran my fingers through my newly shortened mane. Kristopher had actually shed a few tears as he cut it—he loved my long hair and was sorry to see it go. Much sorrier than I was. Afterward he folded the heavy, blue-black length carefully and stored it in a small box under his bed.

  “Why are you keeping that?” I had asked him, frowning. It seemed a pointless gesture.

  Kristopher shrugged, his cheeks turning pink with embarrassment. “It smells like you—you always smell of flowers. Flowers and apples and sunshine.”

  “Flowers and apples and sunshine?” I had burst out laughing. “Truly?”

  Kristopher nodded. “I shall miss that scent. And your laugh. And the way you can always jolly me out of a bad mood. Oh, Kristina, I shall miss you.”

  “I shall miss you too.” My voice had trembled as I realized we were saying our goodbyes. We were going to be parted for the first time in our lives. And not for an hour or a day but for months and months. How could I bear to be apart from my brother and best friend so long?

  The scene had gotten tearful on both sides at that point. Turning away from the window, I decided it was best not to remember. Still, when I blinked, droplets of moisture clung to my eyelashes. Angrily, I pressed my sleeve—the sleeve of one of Kristopher’s old jackets—to my eyes. It wouldn’t do to start my new life like this. I had to be strong, masculine. Though I hadn’t been around many men in my life, I knew enough of them to know that they would take me for weak and girly if I cried. And that could be my downfall.

  No crying, I told myself sternly as the shuttle docked and the passengers around me rose and gathered their belongings. No crying and no going back. This is it.

  Taking a deep breath, I got up and grabbed my single canvas rucksack. I hadn’t brought much—a few sets of Kristopher’s old clothes and some mementos of home. Tucked into the toe of one of my slippers was a year’s supply of flow-dots—tiny but powerful hygiene items which could be inserted to absorb an entire female monthly cycle and then disposed of discreetly. In the toe of the other slipper were some extra bandages for binding my small breasts. I was ready for anything—or so I told myself.

  As for the standard issue navy blue Royal Academy uniform, I would be supplied with several as well as a pair of boots once I got to the Academy. I just hoped they had my rather diminutive size in stock.

  I took an air-cab which let me out at the front gates of the Academy. The huge iron panels loomed over my small frame as though trying to intimidate me. They were covered in ornate scrollwork with the words, Honor, Integrity, Courage emblazoned across their front in red titanium script.

  Well, I thought, stepping up to the guard’s booth and rapping on the tiny window, I suppose one out of three isn’t bad. It might not be very honest or truthful of me to come here pretending to be my brother but it certainly took courage. If the guard looked too closely at the holo-pic my father had sent of Kristopher and decided it wasn’t quite right, my time at the Royal Academy would be over before it started.

  But the butterflies in my stomach turned out to be all for nothing. The guard barely looked up from his vid tablet before waving me through. The massive gates creaked and yawned wide and I took the fateful steps which were the beginning of my new life.

  It was surprisingly hard to walk past the gates and onto the campus which was to be my home but once I got started, I found I was able to keep on. Forgetting some of my trepidation, I looked around with interest.

  It wasn’t hard to find the Administration building—it was the first large structure on the right of the gray, marbleized road as I entered the Academy’s complex. To the left were a series of red brick buildings covered in the stately black ivy native to this moon. The black leaves were shiny, reflecting the sunlight. Periodically, along the thick vines, large waxy white flowers with blood red centers bloomed—I knew from the reading I had done these were Blood and Honor Blossoms, the symbol of the Academy.

  The grass covering the ground on either side of the road was deep indigo and clipped short with military precision. The sky above was a pale golden blue and Zeus loomed large on the horizon, its many rings displayed to perfection. The sun, Prometheus, was a smaller, brighter dot high above. Despite its presence in the sky, there was a faint chill in the air which made me shiver inside my borrowed jacket. Or maybe I was shivering because of the deception I was about to attempt.

  Well, no point putting it off. Taking a deep breath, I held my head high and walked quickly down the road, trying to make sure my stride was long and my arms swung free. I had to move like a man, talk like a man, eat and sleep and think like a man, I reminded myself. I tried to remember how my father walked and copy his decisive, masculine movements but it felt awkward after years of being schooled in the feminine graces by well-meaning nannies and governesses. I was lucky my voice was low for a girl—a natural alto. I only had to concentrate a little to deepen it to a passable imitation of a masculine tone. As for my features, they were still too delicate but my short hair went a long way toward the illusion that I was male—I hoped, anyway.

  As I climbed the steps of the Administration building, I saw a group of cadets standing to one side, about halfway up. They were all wearing navy blue uniforms with the Blood and Honor Blossom emblazoned above the heart. The uniforms were crumpled and their ties were crooked but the gold braid on their shoulders let me know they were upperclassmen—fourth-form students—and the forbidding looks on their faces told me I should keep my distance.

  “So what’s gonna happen?” one of them asked, sucking hard on a stumpy blue nico-stick he was holding. The cloud of smoke hanging over his head smelled like dirty socks.

  “Dunno. Nothing much. Chauser knows my dad would have him sacked in a heartbeat if he rides me too hard,” answered the largest student. “Here, gimme some.” He took the nico-stick and puffed, blowing the foul smelling smoke all over. I tried not to gag and kept moving.

  Their accents sounded strange to me, almost like slang. I wondered if that was the way people spoke on Ares or if it was just common to the Academy. Kristopher and I had grown up speaking much more formally but then, we had been classically trained in several different languages by his many tutors.

  “Hey look at that—fresh meat,” one of them said as I walked past their group. “What are you looking at, freshie?”

  I realized I had been staring at them and looked quickly down at my shoes. “Nothing,” I mumbled, hoping my voice was low enough to avoid suspicion.

  “Yeah, you better keep walking,” the largest student growled. “And keep your eyes on the ground. Be a shame if you tripped, wouldn’t it.”

  An oversized boot was suddenly thrust right in my path. I did trip, and nearly fell, only managing to save myself at the last minute with a quick jump to the next step.

  “Hey!” I couldn’t keep the anger from my voice as I looked up at the bully’s face. He was big and bulky inside the navy blue uniform and his coarse brown hair was clipped very short, showing a pinkish scalp beneath. The small, piggy eyes glaring back into mine were the color of mud.

  “Hey,” he mimicked, making his voice high and mocking. “You sound just like a girl, freshie. What’s the matter—your balls never dropped?”

  His comment left me shaken, even more than his attempt to tr
ip me. “Leave me alone,” I muttered and pushed past him, entering the Administration building quickly. I was half afraid he would follow me but once the door swung silently shut behind me, I found myself alone in a deserted office.

  “Hello?” I walked up to the front counter which bisected the room, surveying the empty desks on the other side of it. “Is anyone here?” I called. “I’m a new student, here to register.”

  “Coming!” trilled a high voice. “Just a moment!” A young man who looked to be a few years older than me bustled in, his arms filled with info tablets. “Just dealing with these,” he said as he put them down with a clatter on one of the empty desks. “Freshman essays—always such a bother. But anything to help the teachers, I always say. Now then.” He dusted long, slender hands together and stepped forward to look at me. “What’s your name?”

  “Kristine—I mean Kristopher. Kristopher Jameson.” I tried to make my voice manly and deep to cover my blunder. “My father, Admiral Jameson, told me to report here today.”

  “Ah, yes, the Admiral’s son. Well, we’re delighted to have you. Just delighted.” He smiled and nodded at me. “I’m Lewiston Hinks, Headmaster Chauser’s administrative assistant. Let me just tell him you’re here—he likes to say a word to all the new students when they arrive.”

  He bustled away again and then reappeared a moment later. “He’ll see you,” he said, nodding to a long hallway to the right of the counter. “Last door on the right at the very end is his office. You might have to wait a minute while he deals with something else but he’ll be with you soon. Oh, and I’ll get your class schedule and uniforms ready to go in the meantime. Let’s see…” He frowned at me. “I think you’ll be an extra small. What size boots do you wear?”

  I told him and he nodded briskly. “Good, all right I think I have some of those in stock. Go on, then. Just have a seat and make yourself comfortable in the headmaster’s office.”

  Feeling awkward, I did as he said. I hoped I wouldn’t have to wait for too long—I wanted to get this entrance interview over with as soon as possible and get away from the Administration building. With some luck, I would get out without running into the pack of upperclassmen and their bully leader with his mud-colored eyes again.

  The office was lined with old fashioned bookcases and dominated by a huge desk made of burnished, dark brown wood. I took a seat in the hard-backed wooden chair sitting directly in front of it and looked around. Holo-pics of a man with a thick walrus mustache and thinning brown hair were displayed everywhere—Headmaster Chauser, I assumed. In every pic he was shaking hands with a visiting dignitary or celebrity. Some I recognized and some weren’t familiar at all—maybe local authorities from Ares? I wanted to get up and take a closer look but I was afraid I might get into trouble if the Headmaster came in and saw me examining his things.

  I waited for a long time, the wooden chair getting harder and harder under my backside. When was he going to come in? I had been sitting all morning on the shuttle and I wanted to stretch my legs. I was just about to get up anyway and start reading the spines of the old fashioned, leather bound books he kept in the bookcase when a voice and footsteps caught my ear.

  “In here,” someone said and I heard a door open and close in the room beside me. “Now, Broward, what do you have to say for yourself?”

  “Nothing, sir.” The angry, insolent voice sounded familiar. Without knowing what I was doing, I crept from the chair to stand by the connecting door that led to the next room.

  “I’ve heard these allegations before and I’m inclined to believe them,” the first voice continued. “I hope you know I don’t take this matter lightly.”

  “You don’t have anything on me,” the other voice burst out. “You’re just picking on me because you don’t like me.”

  There was a small glass window in the connecting door. Carefully, I crept closer and peered in to see what was going on. A man with thinning brown hair sat with his back to the door—obviously the headmaster. The bully who had tried to trip me on the steps was sitting opposite him, a sullen frown on his thick features.

  “You’re right—I don’t like anyone who cheats. And I do have something on you—Mr. Nolen clearly saw you copying your homework assignment from another student.” The headmaster’s voice was grim. “So which will it be, Broward—the cane or the paddle?”

  “You can’t!” A thin film of sweat broke out on the bully’s flushed face. “My dad is the head of the Board of Trustees. You don’t dare lay a finger on me!”

  “Oh, yes I do.” The headmaster stood and took off his jacket. “I don’t care if your father is the president of the solar system, we do not allow cheating at The Royal Academy.” He began to roll up his sleeves. “Now will you take your punishment like a man or do I have to call Hinks in here to help me hold you down?”

  “Like Kinky Hinks could hold down anything bigger than a rabbit,” Broward sneered. “But maybe you guys practice at night when the office is closed. Is that it, Headmaster? You let Hinks hold you down?”

  The headmaster had turned and the side of his face I could see was brick red. “You are this close to being expelled with a permanent black mark on your record, Broward.” He sounded as though he was speaking through gritted teeth. “So I’ll ask you again, would you prefer the cane or the paddle?”

  “I can’t believe you. You won’t get away with this.” Broward stood, his arms crossed over his chest.

  “The cane or the paddle?” Headmaster Chauser grated. “Or perhaps you’d prefer a shuttle ticket straight back to Midas where you can explain to your father why you got expelled?”

  They stared at each other for a long, breathless time, eyes blazing, chests heaving. For a moment I thought Broward was going to lean across the desk and attack the headmaster. But at last, he began unbuckling his uniform pants with stiff, jerky motions.

  “The paddle,” he said, his voice thick with fury. Pushing down his pants, he revealed a large, flabby posterior that was fishbelly white and covered in dense brown hair, almost like fur.

  “Assume the position,” the headmaster commanded and Broward placed his hands on the sides of the desk and leaned over.

  I put a hand over my mouth to contain a shocked giggle at the sight. Kristopher was extremely modest so I had never seen a naked man before. Broward’s furry physique seemed so strange…so alien. I wondered if the rest of him was covered in hair also but I was thankful I couldn’t see any more than his backside. That hairy white expanse was quite enough to let me know I didn’t want to see more.

  “Seven licks for cheating and three more for insolence.” The headmaster produced a large, flat rectangular paddle with holes drilled through it. I wondered what they were for until he landed the first blow with a whistling crack—obviously the holes cut down on the wind resistance and allowed him to hit harder. “One,” he said as Broward let out a muffled whine. The paddle came down again. “Two.”

  I wanted to stop watching after the third blow but somehow I just couldn’t. I was mesmerized by the sight of the black paddle connecting with the bully’s ever-reddening buttocks. Broward winced with every blow, little whines and moans of pain escaping his fleshy lips. I wondered if all that hair didn’t cushion the blows somewhat. From the way he was moaning and crying out, it must not help much.

  I was so engrossed in the show that I didn’t pay attention to what I was doing. My foot slipped and I fell against the connecting door, rattling it in its frame. Standing to one side as I was, I was out of the headmaster’s line of sight. Unfortunately, Broward could see me perfectly. His head snapped up and we stared through the window into each other’s eyes.

  Shock, recognition, and furious embarrassment passed over his lumpish features and the mud-colored eyes narrowed as they glared into my own. I gasped at the look of pure malevolence he directed at me—I had read the phrase ‘if looks could kill’ often enough in books but it had never really registered with me until now. For a long moment I couldn’t look away, t
hen the almost palpable hatred that flowed out of him ended my strange paralysis. Quickly I ducked away from the window and ran back to sit on the hard wooden chair across from the desk.

  Broward had only seen me for a moment but I had the unhappy feeling that the damage had been done. He would never forgive me for seeing him in such a position of ultimate humiliation. Now I would have to watch out for him and be doubly on my guard—first to be sure no one found out my true identity and second to keep from being beaten to a pulp.

  The sounds of the paddling next door ended abruptly and I heard the headmaster telling Broward he would get more of the same if he was caught again. The bully muttered a sullen reply and the rustle of clothing let me know he was pulling up his pants. Then the connecting door opened and the headmaster came in, adjusting his jacket and straightening his tie.

  “Now, then, Mr. Jameson.” He smiled at me politely and held out a hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you from your father, Admiral Jameson. I’m very gratified to finally meet you.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, too, sir.” I took his hand in what I hoped was a firm grip, pumped it exactly twice and let go. Better not to overdo it.