Authors: Pamela Foland
Popper smiled and simply said, “Don’t ask.”
Carl gestured towards the remaining girl, “That is Eve. We call her Net. If you need info she can beat your p-dope to finding it.”
Annette nodded and started to question the slang, p-dope, but Net provided the answer before she could ask. “P-dope is your personal data organization program, and I have a eidetic memory, so I like remember everything I hear or smell or see or taste, yuck, or you know whatever.” Net was clearly high energy, but fortunately telepathically relatively quiet.
“Why don’t you have a seat?” Carl started to rise, to pull out Annette’s chair. Annette beat him to it. Tam pulled an empty plate from the counter behind him and sat it in front of Annette. Silverware appeared next to it, presumably Popper’s work, and frying pan full of eggs and bacon levitated from the cook top to the center of the table. Annette sensed Carl’s mind being responsible for that. “Help yourself.”
Annette started to reach for the pan and stopped, Tina had warned her to stick to nutrient packets for the first few days to ease the sensory transition. “Actually, I’m confined to emergency rations. Do we have any formula S127 or do I have to order it specially?”
“I'll get it,” A fresh male voice said from the other hallway. Annette eyed the newcomer and recognized him, from the cafeteria. He was one of the young men Carl hung around with.
“Thanks Mikey,” Carl said.
“No prob Cap’n,” Mike said fishing around in the cupboards.
Annette shoved her empty plate and unused silverware in front of one of the two empty chairs at the table. “I appreciate it.”
“No prob Annie,” Mike said flinging the pouch in her direction.
Carl caught the pouch telekinetically and set it down in front of Annette gently, “That’s Annette, Scrub!”
“Aye, aye, Cap’n,” Mike said siding into the empty seat slapping a cold pop-tart on the plate. “Where’s Toaster?”
Net lit up and spoke, “Grant is visiting the parentals this weekend. Try the one on the counter.”
Mike rose with a grunt and returned to the kitchenette to toast his pop-tart.
“Mikey is not a morning person. But he is a damn good mathematician. Tam likes math Mikey breathes it,” Carl thought to Annette while shoveling the last of his eggs into his mouth.
“Who’s Grant?” Annette asked.
“Grant Grant, a.k.a. Toaster, high level pyrokinetic, he’s our chief cook.
Currently visiting his parents he is the eighth member of our floor and training group,” Net spouted nearly automatically.
“Speaking of training group, we have yet to select a name for ourselves,” Carl proclaimed, “Do we want to be known as the A-2s or do we want a name?”
“I’m holding out for, Future Prime Factors!” Mike shouted, causing Annette to flinch.
“Isn’t that a bit presumptuous?” Net asked, “After all fewer than one percent of factors ever reach that rank. There are only eight of us, statistically none of us have a chance.”
“Yeah well the Flying Tertiaries is already taken by the E-1s. Let them be realistic I want to be cool,” Scope said in support.
“How about the Ice Cubes, that’s
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cool’,” Tam replied.
“No,
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cool’ not cold!’“ Mikey growled sliding back into his seat while juggling his pop-tart.
He slapped it onto the plate with a clank, “How
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bout it new-girl what do you think we should call ourselves?”
Annette forced herself past the pain of the noise and thought. No title was more important to her than factor in training. “How about F.I.T.s, Factors In Training. It’s descriptive, realistic, kind of cool, and short. Plus it doesn’t make us sound too cocky.”
Carl smiled, “All in!”
Simultaneously, the three girls and Tam chimed in with “Aye!”
While Mike said, “Nay.”
“I’m for it and Annette proposed it, that is six for, F.I.T.s, one against and one absent vote. Motion carries we’re the Factors in Training.”
“Crud,” Mike grunted before taking a bite of his pop-tart.
Annette finally opened the pouch and began sipping at its contents. This wasn’t so bad. Sure they were kind of loud but she could survive it.
“By the way Net, how do you figure none of us have a chance?” Carl asked while levitating his plate and the frying pan back to the kitchen, “Considering Annette is partially responsible for our newly improved conditions, I’d say she’s already well on her way. I mean if you can fix a part of Sanctuary doesn’t that imply potential?”
“I was just speaking on the bare numbers, not any other incalculable variables. If you want a more accurate estimate Mikey, Tam and I could run a proper probability spectrum on each of us given our test scores and using past. . .”
“No thanks Net! I’m sorry I questioned your veracity,” Carl interrupted raising his hands.
“Yeah Net, he was just building Chicky up not asking for statistics. He was especially not asking you to volunteer us to run the stats,” Mike spoke while chewing.
“Annette, not Chicky,” Scope said flatly.
“I’m trying,” Mike said in return.
“Why don’t we call her Deliberate? I mean she doesn’t seem to say anything she doesn’t mean,” Popper popped up with.
Annette finally understood, they were trying to find her a nickname too. “What’s Carl’s?”
“Carl’s what?” Net asked trying to give an answer.
“Nickname.” Annette replied.
“Captain, he’s kind of been our leader since we started. Thanks to him we’re the only group that survived the rehash intact,” Mike answered.
“Not quite, Belinda got trashed,” Carl said not quite regretfully.
“I stand by what I said, Cap’n. Belinda never was a part of our group,” Mike responded, “I got it, she’s Quick!”
A chorus of yeas christened Annette with her first nickname and marked the first time in her life that she could remember being a real part of a group.
“Let’s get cleaned up and start our session,” Carl announced as Mike finished his pop-tart and Annette finished slurping her ration.
“Session?” Annette asked rising to dispose of the empty pouch. It was ripped from her hand by Carl who with, a telekinetic assist, tossed it into the garbage slot.
“Study session, practice session, jam session, as in to gather together for a single purpose,” Net replied balancing a stack of glasses on her way to the sink.
The plates found their way there with telekinetic help and Popper stood staring at them. Annette felt the pressure of telekinesis being used and sensed the girl’s concentration.
In moments the food residue separated from the dishes and made an arching line down the drain. The food remnants in the pan soon followed. Carl did a similar job on the table and beneath it depositing the results in the garbage slot. Mike then checked each of the dishes before returning them to the cupboards or drawers in which they belonged. After the quick clean up everyone rushed to get a comfortable seat in the lounge corner. Annette joined them at her own pace.
“So, any word on whether or not we’re at full strength?” Mike asked Net.
“It is my understanding that given the test scores and group preferences we shouldn’t expect the addition of any new members to our floor. Other than Quick. Then again it was us who invaded her floor technically,” Net answered. Everyone glanced at Annette who had finally taken a seat on a recliner.
Annette felt suddenly self conscious, she had never been good in crowds. “Well, I wasn’t actually using it all.”
Carl laughed, the others joined in, “Maybe her nickname should be Landlady.”
“I don’t know Carl I think a lady outranks a captain. Especially one that pretty,” Mike responded.
“Hey I’m cool with it if she wants to take charge. She got rid of the Slithering Creep,” Scope replied.
“Mutiny!” Carl mocked, “If I had a yardarm. . . I’d probably have a patch and a peg leg. Seriously folks we have some serious work to do if we want to stay the top ranked floor. Popper, you need to work on your communications skills. Either learn Tanerian or get past your block. Net swallow your pride and work on your logarithms, Mikey said he would help. Mikey two words,
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classical literature’, learn what they mean and then read some. Scope, how can we help you with your homework phobia?”
“It’s not a phobia it’s more a form of amnesia. Besides I got here without doing my stinking homework!” Scope replied.
“Only because you got lucky and Annette tipped the bucket on its side. You were a hair away from flunking out and you know it!” Net replied.
“By the way many thanks on that,” Scope smiled, feigning to ignore Carl and Net.
“What do you need to work on Cap’n,” Tam asked.
“Procrastination, I need to work up a list of why waiting to the last minute is a bad idea, but I’ll get around to that later,” Carl grinned wickedly.
“What are we going to do today?” Popper asked, “How about we all go play around on the ranges. I dare anyone to try and beat my score!”
“Yeah like that’ll happen,” Scope mumbled softly.
“Hey, who knows what Quick has in her?” Net replied, “After all she has a Mark X suppresser on.”
“For a reason,” Carl replied, “She isn’t supposed to use any kinesis until the doc gives her the say-so.”
“How is she supposed to do her chores?” Popper asked quickly, and with a bit of a whine on the end.
Annette frowned, “The really old fashioned way, by hand.”
“Bummer,” Mike said with a look on his face telling he thought it anything but. He turned to Annette,
“Can you swim?”
“Yeah, but not right now. I have medications and overly sensitive skin.” Annette was beginning to worry she was alienating the group.
Scope looked Annette over carefully. Annette felt suddenly out of place as the only one not wearing street clothes. Her purple jumpsuit almost felt worse than being naked.
Finally, Scope looked to Popper and Net, a blink passed between the three, “You boys go swim, play, or whatever. We girls are going shopping!”
Carl, Mike, and Tam shrugged and disappeared down the male hallway while the girls darted down Annette’s hall. They came back from their rooms with large canvas bags. “Hey, Quick, where’s your remote pin?” Popper asked.
Annette shrugged, she hadn’t bothered with her room computer since she moved in. It had been a real let down after Tawny.
“I haven’t asked for it.”
“Good grief! Don’t you have any priorities? How do you expect to shop without your pin? No wonder you’re wearing a uniform on a free day!” Scope whined, “Go get your pin.”
Annette trotted slowly down the hall and tapped open her room door. She stepped inside and it hissed shut behind her. “Room, I need my remote pin please,” Annette felt stiff as she asked.
“Alright, it is in the center desk drawer,” The room responded in its young feminine voice, “By the way miss, is there some reason you dislike me?”
Annette paused, It hadn’t occurred to her that she could be insulting the room by not speaking to it, after all it wasn’t Tawny with her vibrant personality. “No.”
“Then may I ask why, though you have been my resident for nearly a month, you have not made any requests of me until now and have not entered into conversation? I realize I am inexperienced with people but I was led to believe you as the resident would initiate contact and be more demanding than you have been. It is why I opted to be a personal data organizational program. I could have come online sooner if I had desired strictly mechanical tasks. There is plenty of work in environmental regulation. I could even have chosen an android form. So far I have not seen any of the benefits I had expected from my choice. How am I to develop proper personal skills if my person will not converse!”