The Sky Drifter Read Free

did you do the preparatory homework for today?”
    Keeping one eye on the teacher, I leaned in, and replied, “No, I had Sphere practice yesterday and I forgot.”
    “Misters 314 and 7,” began Mr. Clarus, facing away from us, “perhaps you would be kind enough to answer a simple question, assuming you did the required work for today’s class.”
    In that moment, all eyes turned silently toward us in expectation as Pi and I froze, and I felt the blood drain from my face.
    Turning finally to face us as a sea of numbers and words continued surrounding and whizzing past him, Mr. Clarus asked, “What is the operator to measure spin along an arbitrary axis direction, gentlemen?”
    I felt light-headed as all the eyes I felt on me weighed heavily on my blank mind. I looked across at Pi, who, judging by the scared look in his eyes and his open mouth, hadn’t done the homework, either.
    “Ooh, gentlemen,” began Mr. Clarus, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “A simpler question there couldn’t be.” He let out a theatrical sigh, and looking around at the other students and asked, “Does anyone know?” Various hands went up, and the teacher randomly picked one. “Yes, 202, if you please.”
    A leafy Brattean over to the right answered, “S equals h-bar/2 ( u_x \sigma_x + u_y \sigma_y + u_z \sigma_z ).”
    “Well done, 202, well done! Yes, indeed.” Turning back to us, Mr. Clarus said, “Make sure you do your homework next time, gentlemen, yes?”
    “Yes, sir,” we drawled in unison, feeling deflated.
    I spent the rest of the class being as quiet and invisible as I could be, in case the teacher decided to ask me another question I’d have no answer for.
    After the class ended, Pi and I walked out into the bustling hallway as students of all shapes, sizes and colors hurriedly went to their lessons. Standing by the stairway, we made plans to meet in the canteen for lunch before Pi ambled down the stairs to his class and I climbed to the fifth floor where I had my Strategy class.
    On the first day of academy, a series of tests were devised to sort us into different classes of specialisations like navigator, engineer, race relations, and interpreter. Strategist, however, was so specialised only very few were selected for it. There were, in fact, a total of ten students throughout the entire academy who attended Strategy class. I was one of them, and, unfortunately, so was One.
    I entered the large class and saw him already standing behind his station as the teacher, Ms. Photuris, stood behind her own, watching us with her oval black eyes as we flowed in and settled. She looked as proper as always with her high-necked, long black coat with yellow trim. There was something about the yellow-green light that glowed inside her that was so calming, where everything seemed to fade away until the only thing that remained was the Strategy class to focus on.
    I walked over and then stood behind my station, which was adjacent to One’s. I turned the vertical panel above it on by passing my hand just over the pad on the console in front of me and then turned to face Ms. Photuris to await her instructions. After everyone had turned their stations on, the two long antennae on her pale forehead twitched, and I suddenly heard her deep, elegant voice inside my mind.
    Good morning, my children. Today, we have a new battle simulation program for you. Your opponents will be randomized. As always, speed and efficiency will earn you more points. You may turn to your screens, where the simulation will begin momentarily.
    With that, I turned back and saw the display on my screen change to a three-dimensional mountainous range, the base of which was a flat, barren landscape. The display zoomed in until it hovered above a multitude of attack vessels of different shapes and sizes, facing away from it. On the far opposite side were other vessels. These also varied, but their shapes and designs were different. Both sides faced each other,