Read Earth Girl Online

Authors: Janet Edwards

Earth Girl (5 page)

‘Interest!’ Celebrity Dalmora gazed at me in what appeared to be absolute delight and fascination. ‘A Military doing history! Are you going to go Military later?’

‘Unsure.’ I smiled. ‘I love history, but it’s difficult to combine it with a Military career.’

The boy from Beta chipped in. ‘I’ve never met anyone Military before. What does a Military girl do when a man kisses her?’

I gave him the cold stare. ‘That depends. If he asks politely first, and I say yes, then I kiss him back. If he doesn’t ask politely, or doesn’t take no for an answer, then I throw him across the room as a gentle hint to improve his manners.’

There were a few startled expressions round the room.

‘Do you do that often?’ asked the boy from Beta.

‘The last time was yesterday,’ I said, quite truthfully.

Everyone laughed.

I sat down again. I could see Lecturer Playdon looking at me with a raised eyebrow. I turned my head to give him a wide smile. He knew I was telling a pack of lies, but he couldn’t do anything about it. He wasn’t allowed to tell the others my confidential data.

Celebrity Dalmora started splitting us into little social groups next, like the perfect hostess that she was. She annexed me, two lads from Delta and the quiet girl from Epsilon for her own group. I had a feeling she picked us out as the ones who were most likely to need help socially.

She smiled round at us and decided to honour me with her attention first. ‘Jarra, it’s just totally zan being on a course with someone like you. Military! I chose to come on a Gamman university course because I wanted to meet people from other sectors, but this is even better than I’d hoped for.’

Part of me wondered what the great Dalmora would say if she knew she was wasting her charm on an ape girl, but most of me was busy being Jarra Military kid. I gave a politely modest shrug.

‘I hope you don’t mind me asking something personal,’ she said, with the confidence of someone who could always get away with asking anything she liked. ‘Both your parents are on active service? You went to residential schools rather than living with your family? That must be hard.’

Both the real me and the fake me could answer that one. ‘The residences are separate from the schools, but yes. We spend a lot of time living with other kids. They become almost like a family to us. I wouldn’t say it’s that hard …’

‘Interest!’ cried Dalmora.

Incredible the way she could sound as if she really cared. She turned the spotlight on one of the boys from Delta next. She remembered his name too, and the couple of sentences he’d said to the class. How did she do that? I’d only managed to remember a couple from the avalanche of names that had buried me in the last hour. Everything else was a blur.

‘Fian, you said you wanted to be a pre-history specialist. You’re sure about that already? I find all of history totally fascinate. I know I can’t study everything but it’s so hard to choose.’ Dalmora bestowed her professional smile upon Fian, just like an interviewer in a news vid.

Fian obviously had some strength of character, because he didn’t blush or act overwhelmed by Dalmora gazing at him. ‘Pre-history is where everything starts. People may feel modern history is more relevant, but it’s only a few hundred years out of millions. That’s a very thin skin on the surface of time. The minute you dig deeply into the reasons behind something in modern history, you find yourself back in pre-history. That’s where the blood and the bones are. The real problem is where to specialise within pre-history. You’ve got everything back to the dinosaurs to choose from.’

‘One day, I’d love to have you say exactly that in a vid, Fian,’ said Dalmora. ‘I hope I get the chance to do it. People casually dismiss so much in pre-history as no longer relevant. Getting people to really stop and think is the true achievement in an info vid.’

I wanted to scream. Dalmora was being so insufferably nice even if it was all an act. Fian actually sounded intelligent. I didn’t want these people to be nice or intelligent. I hated them for being norms when I was Handicapped, for being able to travel to other worlds when I was locked in a cage. I wanted them to be awful, horrible people, so I could think I was quite right to loathe exos.

I was in luck. Our group contained the celebrity, and the Betans weren’t going to be left out of it for long. The boy came over first, and gave me ample excuse to detest him. He looked Dalmora over first, blatantly examining her body, his attention lingering on the more private areas as if she was on offer for him to take. I hated Dalmora, but I found myself resenting that gloating assessment on her behalf. Even she, with her polished society manner, seemed rather disturbed by it.

With our hostess clearly disconcerted, there was an awkward silence in the group. The Betan ignored it. He finished enjoying his examination of Dalmora and moved on to the next item on the menu offered to him today. The next item was me. ‘Jarra …’ His eyes started crawling over me. I could almost feel them touching me.

I didn’t like it. JMK didn’t like it either. I tried not to react, since I had a theory he would get more enjoyment out of studying my body if I showed I objected to it. ‘I don’t remember your name,’ I said, trying to sound bored.

‘Lolmack,’ he said.

Now the gaze was off her, Dalmora had pulled herself together. ‘We have a Lolia and Lolmack from Beta. Very similar names.’

‘It’s the clan cluster prefix,’ said Lolmack. ‘Lolia is my half cousin by my father’s first triad marriage.’

‘Ah yes, Betan naming.’ Dalmora still wasn’t sounding her confident self.

Lolia oozed her way over to join us next. She exchanged a glance with Lolmack, and then gave the Deltan boys the same sort of lingering examination that Dalmora and I had just suffered. ‘Nice butts,’ she drooled.

There was a collective gasp from all the non Betans in earshot, including me. Hoo eee! Lolia had said the butt word! I know there were times in pre-history when it was fairly acceptable in polite conversation, and I’ve heard it used in the more daring Betan vids, but I’d never heard anyone say it in public before. Everyone says legs, and you can tell which bit they mean by the way they say it.

Lecturer Playdon seemed to appear from nowhere. I’d labelled him as one of those teachers who put in the bare minimum of work, but now I realized I was wrong. He’d been sitting on the sidelines, letting Dalmora run things, so he could study us. He spoke in the hard voice of authority.

‘I must remind the students from Beta sector that this is a University Asgard course, and monitored under the Gamma sector moral code. You agreed to abide by that code when you accepted a place on this course.’

Lolia looked at him wide eyed, with an expression of exaggerated surprise. ‘I only said “butt”.’

He gave her a thin smile. ‘I have just given you one formal reminder; I now give you an amber warning. That word is not acceptable under the Gamman moral code.’

‘I had no idea,’ said Lolia. ‘It’s really not that bad a word. If I’d said …’

‘You can recite me a list of obscene words if you like,’ said Playdon, ‘but each one will get you a warning. You can get yourself off this course in less than five minutes, with no refund of fees.’

He paused and looked round the class. ‘This seems a good time for me to point out that there are students here from five sectors and twenty different planets. You’ll be aware Beta is the most permissive sector, while Delta and Epsilon are the most conservative, but don’t depend too much on sector stereotypes. Planetary and individual standards vary within sectors, and the Gamman moral code requires you to treat other students with respect and consideration for their personal boundaries.’

Playdon walked away and sat down in his corner again. The Betans looked at each other and laughed.

‘Such a prude,’ whispered Lolia.

Despite Dalmora’s best efforts, conversation was a little sluggish after that. Everyone was relieved when Lecturer Playdon stood up again.

‘I think it’s time for lunch.’ His eyes turned to me. ‘Jarra, I’m sure you won’t mind me calling on you to help with your Military skills from time to time. Perhaps you can show the class how to use the food dispensers?’

‘Yes, sir.’ I stopped myself in mid salute. No, seriously, I wasn’t faking it. I’d watched so many info vids, and Jarra Military kid was so real in my head, that the ‘yes, sir’ and salute came automatically. The pupils at Military schools were cadets, and would salute their officer teachers.

The rest of the class seemed convinced, even impressed, as I marched over to the food dispensers and started demonstrating them. The Military me was in charge, but the real me was lurking somewhere on the mental sidelines and throwing a fit of the panics. I’d been in domes just like this on school history club trips, and I knew the food dispensers, but I’d clearly heard the message in Playdon’s words. I’d publicly claimed to be Military. He couldn’t call me a liar, but he was going to keep challenging me to prove my Military knowledge. I could get the food dispensers right, I could get a hundred things right, but just one mistake could ruin me. If I once showed that I wasn’t Military, everyone would start asking what I really was. I didn’t want them to find out the answer to that. Not yet. I wanted them to fully accept me, and to show them I was just as good as they were.

Having got my lunch, I left the choosier students complaining about reconstituted food, sat down at a table and started eating.

‘Excuse me,’ said a voice.

I looked up and recognised the Deltan boy, Fian. I remembered his name, when most of the others were a blur, because he seemed intelligent about history, and …

All right, I admit that was a lie. I could remember Fian’s name because he had long blond hair and nice legs, rather like Arrack San Domex.

‘I’m asking very politely if I can sit next to you,’ Fian said. ‘If you say no, then I’ll leave quietly. There’s absolutely no need for violence.’

I had to grin. ‘Of course.’

He put his tray on the table and sat down. ‘I’m hoping you’ll defend me from Lolia.’

He wasn’t the only one. Within thirty seconds, the remaining six seats at the table had been taken by other boys. There was silence for a while as everyone either ate, or prodded the food with a fork in the hope it would make it taste better.

‘What are those Betans doing here anyway?’ grumbled one of the boys from Gamma. ‘Since when did Beta sector have any interest in history?’

I moved on from my unappetizing main course to my cake. I’d told the class that cake survives the reconstitution process better than most things, so they’d all wisely gone for cake as well.

‘If we’re lucky they’ll leave soon,’ I said. ‘I doubt they have the faintest idea of what life on a pre-history dig site will be like. I’m just waiting to see if they scream when we go outside.’

One or two of the faces round the table looked worried. ‘Is it that bad?’ one of the Gamman boys asked. ‘I went on a dig last summer. We were excavating the remains of one of the first settlements on Asgard. It’s incredibly slow work of course, moving the soil away with tiny brushes, but we spent a lot of time sunbathing and we had picnics and …’

His words trailed off as he saw the look on my face. I didn’t believe it. I really didn’t believe it. By now, I was expecting complete ignorance from the Betans, but this was totally amaz! This lot had signed up for pre-history, and they had absolutely no idea what they were letting themselves in for. I couldn’t help myself. I laughed helplessly.

After lunch, Playdon got us to shift the tables out of the way, and set up the chairs in rows ready for our first class. We settled down in our seats and looked expectantly at him.

‘I realize you’ve come from a lot of different time zones,’ said Playdon, ‘so all I’m doing today is giving my standard introduction to the course. You’re here to learn about pre-history. This is a huge and largely neglected subject. Schools tend to focus on modern history, sometimes restricting their view even more narrowly to their own sector and planet history. Pre-history covers the whole of humanity’s history until when exactly?’

He looked expectantly at the class. I thought it was best if I kept quiet and didn’t attract attention.

Several voices muttered about Wallam-Crane inventing the portal.

‘Wrong,’ said Playdon.

Someone mentioned the first interstellar portal.

‘Wrong again,’ said Playdon.

‘The opening of the first Alpha sector planets to civilian settlement at the start of the Exodus century,’ said a voice from behind me. It sounded like Fian.

‘Correct,’ said Playdon. ‘Until that moment, humanity had effectively existed on only one world. That is the moment when pre-history ends and modern history begins. I normally give a brief introduction to the methods of the Planet First programme now, but since it’s a Military operation, I think we should hear about it from Jarra.’

Well, I could obviously forget the tactic of keeping quiet and not attracting attention. Playdon was going to give me every opportunity to make a fool of myself. He took a seat in the front row, and watched as I stood up and went to the front of the hall.

I’d scanned a lot of vids on Planet First in the last month. I summoned up those memories, took a deep breath, and let my Military alter ego take over.

‘Planet First Approach, Assessment, Screening, Control and Handover methods began with those used right at the end of pre-history on the Alpha planets. Of course, they’ve been improved hugely over the centuries, adding things like the Colony Ten phase. Every time something went wrong, the Military tried to build on the experience and make sure it could never happen again. One Thetis was more than enough.’

The whole class nodded at that, even the Betans. The ent vid channels were always showing horror vids, set in the Thetis chaos year, with celebrity casts struggling to survive and dying heroic deaths in ghastly detail.

‘The first approach to a new star system is with an unmanned probe sent through a five second, drop portal,’ I continued. ‘It sits there passively assessing planets and looking for signs of intelligent alien life. Eventually, it tries sending out a whole series of mathematical and other greets. If there’s still no sign of intelligence, then it moves in towards the most habitable planet, stops, passively monitors again for a spell, and then starts active sensor scans.’

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