Parent-Teacher Conferences

Yan jammed her hands in the pockets of her long cassock as she stared dolefully out the huge window in the viewing area of the airport. The tiny shuttle from the Iron Dreams made a wobbly landing and taxied away towards the storage area. Her best friend Sylva gently elbowed her side.

“It’s like you’re not excited to see your family, or something,” Sylva said. “I think they’re nice people.”

“It’s just awkward,” Yan said. “It’s not like anybody else’s family is here.” Most students’ families did not have the travel authorization or money to take interplanetary trips, even for such an occasion as graduation.

Sylva grinned broadly. She was a native of Emerri, the capital planet, so her family could have made the trip by airplane. “I told mine that they weren’t allowed to come to the ceremony.”

“That might actually be true,” Yan said. After all, it wasn’t like Academy students were given tickets to hand out for graduation— it was an intensely private affair. Yan figured that her family wasn’t going to stay for long; they had business to attend to, and graduation itself was still a while away, after apprenticeship interviews. The thought of those upcoming interviews churned Yan’s stomach.

“Spacers get to break all the rules,” Sylva said with another smile. “Come on, we’d better go meet them.”

Sylva bounded away deeper into the airport, and Yan had to walk uncomfortably quickly to catch up with her, even on her much longer legs. Sylva was short and chubby, with auburn hair braided in an elaborate crown around her head, and a fierce scattering of freckles across her round face.

Yan was the opposite to Sylva in every way possible. As a spacer, she had grown up with low and constantly fluctuating gravity, which had stretched her out to over two meters in height. She had brown skin and was gangly and slim, moving with an awkwardness that made her look perpetually out of place. Her thick and curly black hair was cut very close to her head. Above her low cheekbones were wide set brown eyes, always flicking around with a tight, observational nervousness.

The only thing that marked the two young women as peers were the black, ankle length cassocks that they both wore, and the shiny lapel pin that labeled them as seniors at the Academy, about to complete their tenth year. They were both twenty, and they had been best friends since their first days at the Academy, when they had been assigned beds next to each other in the first- year dorms. Yan had stood head and shoulders above the rest of the new students and didn’t speak the Academy’s language of New Imperial. But she had somehow been adopted by the exuberant Sylva, who had taken one look at the weird girl who collected ugly rocks and plants from the ground and decided that they were going to get along.

The guest waiting area in this section of the airport was empty. No big flights had come in and deposited their passengers in at least twenty minutes, so when Yan’s uncle and cousin stepped in through the doors, they had relative privacy to meet with Yan and Sylva. Yan smiled with a mixture of relief (that more of her family hadn’t crammed themselves into the shuttle to come down) and awkwardness (that it was these two family members in particular who had come to see her).

Before Yan could even say anything in greeting, her uncle Maxes had swept her up in a crushing hug. He was even taller than she was, and his long, braided hair full of colorful beads rattled in her ears. “I’ve missed you,” he said, giving her a squeeze, then releasing her.

“It’s good to see you,” she said, stiff and hesitant. She always felt the relationship between herself and her uncle had been filled with a tension she could never articulate. He wanted her to be the best of the family; she just wanted to be part of the family.

Sylva was shaking hands with Yan’s cousin, Captain Pellon, when Yan was finally able to turn to look at them. “It’s nice to see you again, Captain BarCarran,” Sylva said.

“Please, just Pellon. I think I already told you that,” he said with a smile. Pellon looked similar to Maxes in terms of facial structure, but he kept his head shaved and wore a neatly trimmed black beard instead. He was old enough that little peppers of white showed in it, and wrinkles bloomed from the corners of his eyes. He usually wore glasses, but wasn’t wearing them now.

“You did tell me that; I’m just used to calling all the masters by their last names,” Sylva said with a laugh.

Pellon turned to Yan, whose back unconsciously straightened as she addressed her captain. There was a certain aura of authority that he had, something Yan felt strongly, as she had grown up with his word being the just and absolute law aboard their ship. “How have you been, Yan?” he asked, his voice gentle.

“I’ve been well, thank you,” she said, though she felt like she was tripping over the words. She needed to smile pleasantly, seem genuine.

“School going alright?” he asked.

“It’s done,” she said. “It would have been awkward if you came while I was still taking finals and making my final project.”

“Do you have your grades?”

“Yeah, I did fine,” Yan said. She ran her hand over the back of her neck and looked away. Sylva was staring out the window, not wanting to interrupt the family conversation, but she was certainly listening in.

Pellon smiled, taking that as the deflection from bragging that it was. “That’s good to hear.”

“Are you staying on Emerri for long?”

Pellon sighed. “Just for a couple days. We wanted to see you, obviously, but there’s business that needs attending to.” The fact that he didn’t say anything else told Yan that he had no further interest in discussing it, so, although she was curious, she didn’t press the matter.

“Should we take this out of the airport?” Maxes asked.

“Sure, follow me,” Sylva said. “I borrowed an Academy car.”

Maxes and Pellon glanced at each other, then followed Sylva to the car, with Yan walking at Maxes’s side.

Sylva pulled them out of the airport lot, careful but a little too quick of a driver. The warm late-spring sunset lit the interior of the car in an orange glow.

“Where are you taking us, Ms. Calor?” Pellon asked Sylva, slightly uncomfortable in the back seat. He was not used to being a passenger, let alone a passenger in a ground car.

“Did you want to go to dinner, or your hotel, or…?”

“There’s a restaurant at the Academy, isn’t there?” Maxes asked. Yan nodded. “Let’s go there.”

Sylva turned the car sharply, and then they were off through Yora streets. Sylva wasn’t taking the most direct route, which annoyed Yan a little, but her family didn’t seem to notice, so Yan didn’t bring it up. If Sylva wanted to take them on a sightseeing tour of the Empire’s capitol building, it was probably fine.

“There’s Stonecourt,” Sylva said as they drove in a wide perimeter past the massive complex that housed most of the government.

“You ever been inside?” Maxes asked, staring out the window at the manicured lawn that sloped gently up towards the imposing building, just now starting to be lit up for the night.

“We took a tour in our fifth year,” Yan said. “Field trip.” She had vague memories of the trip, but old buildings, stone corridors, and tour guides all tended to blend into a vague mash after a while, and there hadn’t been anything that thrilling inside.

“Are we going to drive past where you’ll be working?” Maxes asked.

“If I get xenobio, I might be in the colonization office,” Yan said. “But that’s…” She wracked her brain for its location, picturing the building in her head. “A few kilos south of here.”

“And you, Ms. Calor?” Pellon asked.

“I have no idea what I’m going to be doing. But probably not anything that high profile, so probably not here in Imperial Center.”

“Sylva has the soul of a poet, not a politician,” Yan said jokingly. Sylva probably would have elbowed her, had she not been driving.

“The universe needs all sorts,” Maxes said.

Sylva was heading toward the Academy now, and they had begun the long drive up the steep hill on which it sat. Even more than Stonecourt, the Academy was an imposing presence. It could be seen from basically anywhere, if you had an unobstructed view past the buildings. Its temple looked down over the city, the giant stained glass lit like a watchful eye.

Sylva pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant on the Academy grounds. Yan had only ever been there before on rare occasions— it wasn’t anything like the dining halls that students frequented. The Starlight was a fancy place, meant mostly for the higher-ups at the Academy to entertain alumni and other important guests. The parking lot had a moderate number of cars in it, and Yan wondered if they would even be able to get a seat. Still, they all got out and went up to the front door. Although she was wearing her nicest school uniform, Yan still felt underdressed.

She was right to be worried, because as they walked inside the dim restaurant, Maxes asked at the desk about getting a table, and they were met with the confounding question, “Do you have a ticket?”

Maxes glanced back at Pellon and Yan, as if either of them had the answer. “There must be some kind of event going on,” Yan said, peering into the swanky restaurant. The place was filled with people in the bar area, most of them wearing cassocks. Yan recognized a couple of the masters that she had had over the years. Perhaps it was an end of the year celebration for the Academy staff. “We’ll just have to go somewhere else,” Yan said with a shrug, trying to defuse the awkwardness of picking the wrong venue.

At that moment, the door opened behind the group. Yan turned half on instinct, and came face to face with her own mentor, Master Farber, walking side by side with the head of the Academy, Master Windreshon. Farber smiled widely. “Yan, good to see you! What are you doing here?”

Windreshon looked between the two of them, gave a tight smile to Yan and Sylva, then walked into the restaurant, past the desk, leaving Yan to make the awkward introductions to her family.

“Uh, hi Master Farber,” Yan said. “My family are here for a visit. This is my uncle, Maxes BarCarran, and my cousin, Captain Pellon BarCarran. Um, Maxes, Captain Pellon, this is my mentor, Master Farber.” Sylva knew who Farber was, having had him for class, so she just waved hello.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Pellon said, taking stock of the situation and shaking Farber’s hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Yan.”

“Only good things, I hope.”

“Of course,” Maxes said, also shaking Farber’s hand. “And I hope our little wandering spacer child hasn’t caused too much trouble on your planet.”

Farber laughed. “Of course not. The Academy’s no stranger to spacers, after all. There seem to be rather more of them with the power than normal probability would suggest.” He winked at Yan, who resisted the urge to cringe. “Yan has been a joy to have as a student. It’ll be a shame when she graduates, but…” He smiled a wide smile and said nothing more on the subject. “Has your family seen your final project yet?”

“No, I put it in the hall this morning,” Yan said.

“Excellent, excellent,” Farber said. “If you get a chance to stop by during visiting hours, you should,” he said to Maxes and Pellon. “It’s quite an impressive feat. Beautiful work.”

Yan wasn’t sure she would go that far. Her project probably looked quite unimpressive compared to a lot of the others, if one didn’t know how it was made. Her face was burning with the compliments, but she couldn’t escape the conversation or the scrutiny that came with it.

“If we get a chance, we’ll be certain to stop by,” Pellon said. “But for now, I suppose we shall have to find a different venue for dinner, if this one is booked up.”

“Oh!” Farber exclaimed. “Don’t worry about that, there’s plenty of room.” He turned to the man at the desk. “Can you get them a table? I promise they won’t cause any trouble.”

“I don’t want to impose,” Yan said. “It’s fine.”

“No, no,” Farber said. “The only reason they’re not letting the public in right now is that there’s about a ten percent chance that a VIP shows up, and they don’t want a scene. But you’re not public; you’re my student. And my student’s family, and friend, of course.”

The man at the desk acquiesced and gathered menus. “VIP?” Pellon asked.

“I’m certain he won’t show, so no point in getting your hopes up. Well, I have to go be social,” Farber said with a smile. “Enjoy your dinner, and it was a pleasure to meet Yan’s esteemed family.”

“The pleasure is mine, I’m sure,” Pellon said. “Thank you for teaching her well.”

Farber flitted off to join the crowd of other masters; some waved at Yan when he pointed her out to them. Yan smiled and waved back, feeling like a bug in a jar. But they forgot about her soon enough, and their party was sat at a back table, away from the general hubbub of Academy bigwigs. Yan couldn’t say that she minded.

“You’re popular around here, that you can pull favors like that,” Maxes said with a smile after they had been seated. Yan shrugged. Sure, the masters liked her, but Farber probably would have done the same for most of his other mentees.

“Do you have any photos of this project he mentioned?” Pellon asked. He was always curious about the particulars of Yan’s schooling. “I don’t know if we’re going to have a chance to stop by later, so you might as well show us now.”

“Yeah, I want to see it too!” Sylva leaned hard on Yan’s shoulder as she pulled out her phone to find the picture that she wanted to display.

“You haven’t already seen it?” Maxes asked.

“They’re supposed to be kept secret from everyone except your mentor until the actual day of the exhibition,” Yan said. “To stop cheating, I guess.” The final projects were meant to be representative of each student as a power user, containing a kind of divine spark of their essence, which could be contaminated if too much influence from another person went into the work. She found the photo, really a couple seconds of moving image, and laid her phone on the table for everyone to see.

The image was unremarkable—it showed a spherical, enclosed fishbowl, really a complete sphere, with a small goldfish swimming and darting around through some aquatic plants. When Yan’s finger entered the frame and pressed on the side of the glass, the fish shied away from it. Then the clip repeated.

“It doesn’t look like much,” Yan said, rather apologetically. She knew her family wouldn’t think it was that impressive. “Sorry for not being more exciting.”

“Sylva seems to think otherwise,” Pellon said, nodding at Sylva, who was watching the fish flit about with wide eyes.

“You made that?” Sylva asked. “You…”

“It’s not alive alive,” Yan hastily clarified, not wanting Sylva to think that she had broken one of the most fundamental laws that governed the use of the sacred power. Life couldn’t be created, no matter how much one tried. “It’s just an, uh, automaton. I modeled all the chemical processes, and stuff. It’s pretty accurate.”

Maxes smiled, suddenly understanding. “Angling right for that xenobio slot, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Yan said, relieved that he understood. “Exactly. I hope they’ll notice and like it. I mean, otherwise it’s kinda a joke.”

Sylva shook her head. “That’s crazy, Yan. Beautiful.” There was real appreciation in her voice, and she leaned back in her seat as Yan slipped her phone back into her pocket. Pellon and Maxes glanced at each other, some unspoken communication passing between the captain and one of the senior members of his crew that Yan couldn’t understand.

“Are you coming aboard the Dreams this summer?” Pellon asked. “I’d be happy to have either or both of you.”

Yan shrugged, twisted the napkin laid out in front of her. “It depends on what apprenticeship I get. If I have to spend the summer finding a house…” That was what the last summer break between graduation and apprenticeships was really for. Many Academy graduates had to move far and wide, and that required a certain amount of time to find accommodation.

“It’s likely that you’ll both end up right here in Yora, though, isn’t it?”

“It really just depends,” she said again. “There’s no guarantees. Even if I get xenobio, I might get shipped off to a colony somewhere.”

“I hope we’re both in Yora together. Then we can split an apartment. Save on rent,” Sylva said with a grin and a nudge.

This was actually pretty comforting to Yan, and she smiled. “Yeah, I hope so.”

Again, there was that glance between Pellon and Maxes. “Well, let me know,” Pellon said. “I’m happy to give you both letters of transit if you don’t need to spend time househunting.”

“Thank you for the offer,” Sylva said. “I’ll definitely let you know. Well, through Yan, since I don’t have an ansible card.”

Pellon laughed and nodded. From there, the conversation moved on to quotidian things, like how the rest of Yan’s family was doing. They ordered their food and received it. It was good, which was expected, given the price. Yan’s family had plenty of money, but that didn’t mean she didn’t balk at things that seemed a little too luxurious.

While they were eating, Pellon suddenly stiffened and looked out across the room toward the door. Yan and Maxes, attentive to his movements in the subtle way that crew were toward their leader, turned to look.

“The VIP did decide to arrive, I see,” Maxes said, voice quite low.

Walking in the door, flanked by an entourage of dark suited men, was First Sandreas, the leader of the Empire. He was wearing a cassock much like Yan’s, the classic uniform of anyone with the power, but it was accompanied by a long, blood red cape draped off his shoulders. Behind him was the largest man Yan had ever seen, taller than any spacer she had ever met, even. Sandreas said a few words to the large man, indistinguishable through the noise of the restaurant and over the distance, then smiled and warmly greeted the Academy high-ups. Farber, who was standing on the edge of that group, looked over to where Yan was sitting, saw her looking, and gave a grin visible even at this distance.

“Wow,” Sylva said. “What’s he doing here?”

“I had heard rumors that he was going to be taking apprentices soon,” Pellon said, picking up his wine glass and taking a sip. “I didn’t quite believe that they were true. But I suppose this goes to show that they are.”

“Who’d you hear that from?” Maxes asked.

“Wil Vaneik,” Pellon said with a thin smile.

“I see why you failed to believe it then.”

Sylva looked between them, not really understanding the conversation. Yan leaned towards her and whispered in her ear, “I’ll explain later.”

The idea of First Sandreas taking apprentices was a surprising one, and an exciting one. Yan began mentally running down the list of her classmates to see who she thought the likely candidates were. Her thoughts were interrupted when Maxes asked, “Who’s the big one?”

“You noticed too?” Pellon asked with a smile. “They do a decent job of cropping him out of the news, but he’s in there sometimes.”

“You’d think that First Sandreas wouldn’t want a pirate at his back,” Maxes said, watching the group with narrowed eyes.

Yan’s heart rate, which had already been thrumming along with excitement and interest, skyrocketed at Maxes’ words. She gripped the napkin in her lap so hard that her knuckles turned white. Sylva, next to her, noticed, and asked, “Pirate?”

“You don’t get that big without growing up in space, and without being genetically modified in the womb. Only pirates do that,” Pellon said. “It’s the only real explanation.” Pellon raised an eyebrow, staring out over Yan’s shoulder. “Hm. It seems our party crashing has been noticed.”

Yan could barely turn her head to look, and when she did, her heart leapt into her throat. The big man had separated himself from the group and was coming over to them, his hands in his pockets, though surely, Yan thought, with his hand on a gun.

“Drink up before we get kicked out, I suppose,” Maxes said, taking a sip of his wine. “Too expensive to waste.”

The idea of being in a room with a pirate made Yan too afraid to move, let alone drink her wine. She didn’t turn away as the giant continued walking towards them. Farber, too, had noticed the motion, and he left the group around First Sandreas and quietly put himself in the large man’s path. Yan could feel the pirate’s eyes boring into her, even as he had a discussion with Farber. It ended with the pirate putting a heavy and broad hand on Farber’s shoulder, giving a curt nod to Yan and her tablemates. Across from her, Pellon gave a nod back. Yan couldn’t quite understand what had taken place, but as the pirate seemed to vanish into the crowd and they seemed to be in no danger of getting kicked out, she calmed down and relaxed a little in her seat. Still on edge, but no longer feeling like she was on a ship under attack.

“You okay?” Sylva asked.

“Hate pirates,” Yan said. “They shouldn’t exist.”

“Well, they do, and we just have to live with them,” Pellon said. “The secret to surviving pirates is being on equal terms. And neither of us are in ships right now, so we are, in a way, on equal footing. I doubt that either of us are going to cause the other trouble. Try not to worry about it.” He seemed calm, so Yan tried her best to take the cue from her captain and finish her meal without too much anxiety. Any curiosity she had about what First Sandreas was doing had died with that odd interaction, though, and the conversation felt dull and muted by worry.

When the time came to pay the bill, the waiter came over with a kind of bemused expression and presented them with a receipt for zero charges. “Your meal was covered by First Sandreas,” he said. “With apologies for causing an interruption to your dinner.”

Pellon laughed at that.

On the way out the door, Yan felt someone’s gaze upon her, and she turned to her left. At the back of the room, hidden slightly in the shadows, she made eye contact with the large man, who nodded to her. Yan rushed out of the restaurant.