Lumia

“Game time!” Leo announced, bursting into the common room of Familia Euripides. He waved a small rectangular object in his hand.

Tock, Raphael, and Lumia looked up at him from the couches, jolted from their conversation.

“Alright!” Tock cried, raising her arms to the skydome in celebration. Then her excitement subsided as she took her meus out of her pocket. “One second.”

As Leo settled himself onto one of the sofas, he tossed the rectangular box he was holding onto the low table nestled between them. Lumia’s curiosity tugged at her, tempting her to pick it up and see what it was. However, she felt it was not her place to fiddle with someone else’s possessions.

Thankfully, Raphael had no such inhibitions and he slid the box off the table, into his palm. Lumia leaned in to watch. The tall man flicked open the box’s cardboard lid and pulled out a thin, hard sheet with a decorative image painted on the front, reminiscent of a Feudal king.

“What is it?” Raphael asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Leo flashed a grin. “Playing cards. From the old world.”

Raphael’s mouth parting in bewilderment. “Where did you get this?”

Before he could answer, Tock’s meus blurted out a disgruntled, “What, Tock?”

“Alan!” she shouted, answering the boy on the other end of the call. “Get out here or I’m turning all of the old computers on your shelf by seven degrees.” She paused. “In different directions.”

“What?” he cried. “Why do you keep doing this?”

“Random degrees.”

“Alright, alright,” he whined.

A moment later he was out of his room and trudging towards them with bare feet. He was rubbing the back of his neck and mumbling, “Last time it bugged me for a week—a week!—before I realised what was wrong.”

He plopped himself down next to Tock and glared at her. Tock poked her tongue at him.

“Very good,” said Leo, nodding sagely, “but there’s still one missing.”

“Er, maybe you shouldn’t,” said Raphael, holding up a hand.

Too late. Leo was already striding towards Morgan’s room. When he reached it, rather than using his meus to call Morgan, he grabbed the door’s handle and thrust it open.

Everyone winced as a high-pitched yelp emitted from Morgan’s room. Then she started howling. “What are you doing? I am in the middle of studying and do not have time for your stupid—”

“I have contraband!” Leo spoke over the top of her.

“What?” Morgan gasped, entirely forgetting she’d just been intruded on. “Where? Why?”

“Common room.”

A second later they were heading back to the sofas. Leo wore a smirk while Morgan pouted with her arms folded.

“I cannot believe you,” she grumbled. “I have known you for a week, and every day of it you have been doing something irrational.”

“Logic, logic,” he said idly, ignoring her complaints. He threw himself into the sofa. “Let’s play.”

Morgan blinked at him. “Play what?”

“A game from the old world.”

That piqued Morgan’s interest and her expression went from sour to intrigued. Her eyes settled on the cards in Raphael’s hand. “Where did you get those?”

Leo grinned. “It’s not contraband. It was a gift.”

Morgan rolled her eyes. “I should have known. I’m going back to my room. And you,” Morgan grumbled, fixing Leo with a hard stare, “should not be playing. You know that our assignments will start next week, so we should try to get on top of our studies now that we have a day off.”

“Yep, totally agree,” Leo said, though he sounded completely disinterested. “Now let’s play.”

Seeking to soothe over the mood, Lumia beamed at Morgan and patted the empty seat beside her. Sighing, Morgan strolled over and placed herself on the sofa, keeping her back straight and crossing her legs. She was wearing her pyjamas and they looked so comfy! Uncertain what was appropriate for a “day off”, Lumia had decided to wear her school uniform as usual. She regretted it sincerely as everyone else was dressed so casually, mostly in their sportswear or pyjamas. Fortunately, nobody had commented on Lumia’s attire.

Today was their first day of no classes, which Lumia found to be quite surreal. Apparently, this was an every-Sunday occurrence for students. The very idea that Platonians would have spare time to catch up on their work was one of the many oddities of these people. In Glassfall, there was no such thing as a “day off”, and instead one would allocate the extra time needed to complete necessary tasks by taking it from their sleep.

Still, Lumia was grateful for the extra time and took advantage by socialising with her friends. So far, she, Tock, and Raphael had spent the morning talking about school and life on Plato. Lumia was hoping to rush towards becoming a semblance of a well-adjusted student. She never directly asked her classmates to speak on the topic of socially acceptable behaviour, as that would have exposed her anxieties; rather, she prodded them back to the subject every time they veered away.

Turning to Morgan, Lumia asked, “Have you heard of this game before?”

“Well, given that we have not heard the rules,” Morgan intoned, “then no.”

“It’s called King,” Leo responded, taking the deck of cards back from Raphael and shuffling them. “And about the rules.”

He took his meus out and tapped for a few seconds. Then each of them felt their pockets buzz. One by one they unlocked their meuses and were greeted with a message in their class’ group chat from Leo. He’d sent them a folder titled, “Rules.” Lumia tried to tap on it, and an alert came up which told her that it was encrypted.

Leo took six cards from the deck and placed them on the table face up. He then passed the deck to Alan to inspect. “Those are the rules. I’ve encrypted it, and only I have the key.”

“So we have to unencrypt the file, huh?” said Alan, prying the deck apart and assessing every card. “Then what’s with the playing cards?”

Leo’s eyes flickered in frustration. “No, I give you the key after you win.”

Tock snatched the cards out of Alan’s hands, sending some of them sprawling across the table. She scooped them back up and reorganised them.

“Wait,” she said. “How are we supposed to win if we don’t know the rules? Or can we just make them up?”

“That’s the challenge,” Leo said. “You need to figure out what the rules are.”

Morgan’s face scrunched up in confusion. “That is completely unfair!” Tock walked around the table and passed her the cards, which were now haphazardly facing up and down at random. Morgan began to sort them. “If only you know the rules, then only you will ever win.”

“Oh, are you giving up already?” Leo insinuated. Morgan lowered her chin and raised her eyebrows at Leo. “There are five of you and one of me. You can all work together to figure out the rules and then beat me.”

“And what happens if we do?”

A mischievous grin stretched across Leo’s face. “Then whoever wins becomes the next King, and they get to make the rules.”

Finally, the cards were passed to Lumia. She shuffled through the deck, admiring the artwork of a long lost age. There was something odd about them, she noticed. Compared to the precision of Platonian technology, these were rough and worn. Her fingers slipped over them just fine, but their surface was not evenly smooth as she had grown used to while on Plato. If this had been produced on the floating city, the cards’ edges would not have felt so scratchy, the designs would have been far more intricate, and when she flexed a card it would have snapped back to position as though nothing had ever occurred. The playing cards’ imperfections were so subtle, yet that’s what made them so charming.

Morgan was absolutely right. The rules were completely stacked against them. It wasn’t only because Leo knew the rules, but because that victory condition made it impossible to overcome the insurmountable difference between him and they. Should they work together, they would risk handing the victory to another player, another competitor. In order to win, they would inevitably have to compete with each other. In that ensuing chaos, Leo would always have the advantage.

All the more reason to beat him, she thought, a grin edging onto her lips.

“I think we should all play,” Lumia said. Everyone stared at her like she had gone mad. Lumia returned their stares with a smile. “It sounds fun, to try and overcome adversity in such a whimsical way.”

She turned to Alan. “It will be a great challenge, don’t you think.” He shrugged, but his expression betrayed him as warming up to the idea.

Next was Tock. “And can you imagine the chaos that would ensue, when a rule is misinterpreted and we must then argue with Leo?”

“Ha,” Tock barked. “Imagine the look on Leo’s face when we beat him!”

Lumia nodded. “Besides, it’s a game from the old world. I’m sure you’ll love it.” Then she faced Morgan. “It would be a great exercise of our deductive abilities. A learning experience, even.”

Morgan’s arms were folded, and her fingers drummed on her triceps. “You do have a point.”

“And I think it’ll be fun to play with everyone else,” she spoke to Raphael.

Raphael cracked a smile and nothing more.

Leo stretched out a hand, asking for the cards. “Alright, let’s start.”

Lumia gave him the cards and he began… mixing them, but in a very dextrous manner. He’d pick up a random fraction of the cards and slide them into the remaining deck so that they squeezed between various cracks. Somehow they all seemed to find their place amongst their brethren, though Lumia imagined that with every shuffle they’d wear and tear until their edges were so frayed that they would become too different from the others. If they were different, they would not appear the same on the back, not another card but an individual, and any attempt to hide them amongst their peers would be in vain.

After shuffling, Leo doled out the cards. Everyone received a different amount. He, the dealer, received six, Morgan two, Tock three, Alan four, Raphael five, and Lumia herself only received one card. In her case, it was a joker.

Tock glowered at her hand, then she arced up and thrust a finger at Leo. “Hey, why do you get more cards?”

Leo only shrugged.

“Well, we don’t know if it’s better or worse,” Alan suggested. “Since we don’t know any of the rules.”

“He gave himself the most,” Tock said. “It’s clearly better to have more.”

“What do we do?” Raphael asked.

Morgan huffed. “You have to at least tell us some of the rules. Otherwise, we cannot even participate.”

“Fair point,” said Leo. Stamped on his face was an emotionless smile. He was already playing, Lumia realised, covering up any expression that might give away his intent. She paid close attention to his every motion. “First, we take turns playing our cards. Since I know the rules, I’ll go first.”

He placed a card on top of one of the six cards he’d placed face up on the table earlier. The card he played was face down.

“Second, if there is a rule violation, you have to draw a number of cards from the deck.” He gestured towards the remaining deck placed on one side of the table. “I’ll tell you how many.”

“Hold on a second,” chimed Morgan. “How can we be sure you will not cheat, or lie about the rules?”

“It’s a game,” Leo said, his features not even flinching. “I want to win, but there’s no prize if I do. I’ll play properly because I want the game to run smoothly.”

“That’s fair,” Raphael said, nodding. “Otherwise he would just be messing with us.”

“And what if he is?” Morgan snapped.

Raphael shrugged. “Then we stop playing and there’ll be no game left.”

“Exactly,” Leo said. “I’ll be the king of nothing, and that’s no fun. Which means, I need to give you all a chance.” He glanced away and muttered, “A very small one.”

Tock narrowed her eyes. “What are you planning?”

Leo held up a hand defensively. “I’m just making the game a challenge. Besides, you’re all the brightest students in all of King’s College, right? Maybe even all of Plato! I’m sure you’ll win eventually.”

Oh, perhaps I should not have roped everyone into this, Lumia thought. However, it was too late to back out. Her attention had sharpened and she was on the hunt for any shift in emotion, any change in expression. It wasn’t just her, though.

Tock bombarded Leo with more questions. Alan was surprisingly quiet, observing the room. Raphael’s eyes were darting around the table. Morgan was staring hard at her cards, the cards on the table, and Leo’s own hand. Oh, the game was already being played. Class Euripides had run head first into this challenge and they each refused to back down.

Four hours later, they were at their wits’ end. Leo sat at one end of the table with seven cards in his hand—a condition which, as he had sprung on them two games ago, could potentially lead to a victory under circumstances yet unknown. It was Lumia’s turn and her thoughts stirred like a tempest.

Now if I play hearts onto spades that’ll allow me to draw another card, but if I do that I can’t block Leo’s next play which will most likely be a king, which I think will allow him to achieve the all-kings victory as there are two other kings already on the table—no, he needs an ace to do that which he doesn’t have, but he can get one from Morgan who’s turn it is next, and that’s assuming she’s hasn’t figured out the ace-king relationship—oh, the rule that prevents more than one question spoken per turn is brutal since I had already asked Raphael if he would trade me a six on his next turn—ah, what am I doing again?

Leo’s meus rested on the table. He tapped on it, indicating that the time for her turn was running low. Of course he had also added a turn timer to the game. Everything about these rules was completely unfair! But it was far too late to complain. She played hearts onto spades.

Glancing over the table, Leo flipped over his hand. “I win.”

Everyone gaped at him. It was plain as grey what they were all thinking: how?

Morgan’s back stiffened. “But it is my turn next. Surely there is something I could do to stop you.”

“Nope,” he said without explanation.

Raphael leaned in. “At least explain how,” he said with a chuckle, trying to soften Leo up.

“Nope.”

“Was it because of the kings?” Alan asked.

“Not saying.”

“The threes?”

“Not saying.”

“Something to do with suits?”

“Not saying.”

Tock slammed her cards onto the table. “This game is stupid!” Secretly, Lumia felt the same.

That wasn’t the first time he’d done that. He never explained the victory conditions. Or any rule. He simply waited for them to make a mistake and penalised them. So far, every rule Class Euripides knew had been determined by deduction. The whole affair was making Lumia’s head spin. And her stomach grumble.

“Maybe we should call a break here,” Lumia piped up. “It’s getting late and we should probably eat soon.”

“Ah, I completely forgot about my studies,” Morgan cried.

“Well, can’t help it now,” said Alan. “I’ll have to work on my emotion detection app next day off.”

Tock narrowed her eyes at him. “What happened to your last project?”

Alan shrugged. “I’ll finish it, just—don’t look at me like that, I mean it this time! I just thought this one was really interesting and wanted to start it straight away.”

“I have to say,” Morgan spoke up, causing everyone to turn her way, “that the rules are incredibly difficult to comprehend. If that was your goal, I applaud you, but the amount of effort you put into this game could have better been used elsewhere.”

“Right?” said Tock. Lumia was surprised to see Tock and Morgan agree on, well, anything. That surprise lasted all of two seconds. “It’s like, when one card is played, it completely changes what can happen next. It’s way too complicated!”

Raphael nodded in agreement. “If the state of the game is always changing, then there’s no way to manoeuvre against the king. They’ll always have the upper hand since they know the rules and can manipulate them at will.”

Leo had scooped up all the cards and now shuffled them idly. “That’s true, but you can keep trying again and again. That’s what makes a game fun: there are no consequences for failure.”

“Agreed,” Lumia said. “All in all, I think everyone enjoyed themselves. They wouldn’t have stuck around so long if they didn’t.” She made a conscious effort to ignore the rumbling of her stomach, and the itch to ask for another round.

“Hey, I’ve been wondering,” Alan spoke, voice low and filled with concern. He tugged at the knot of black hair at the nape of his neck. “What do you guys think about that class that we have tomorrow?”

They all went silent. There was no need to voice it: the class in question, as provided in their timetables, was simply called, Euripides. No further information had been given about it. Morgan had tried mailing the Educators, speaking to Educator Arthur in person, and even attempted to book an appointment with the Principal in her determination to eke out some knowledge, in the hopes it would help her prepare more thoroughly. To everyone’s disgruntlement, she had made no promises to reveal that information to them, demanding instead that they each seek out the information themselves. Not that it mattered, because the Educators had told her nothing.

In truth, they were all worried, and it showed on their faces. Their workload was already significant, and that was before whatever was laid on them in Euripides. They all had the falling feeling that it would be something ridiculous, something fitting of their position.

Morgan was the first to break the silence. She puffed out her chest and gave them a haughty stare. “Regardless of what we are assessed on, I will do my best. I suggest that if you do not want to be left behind, you would study just as hard.”

“Er, of course,” Alan grumbled. “Actually, I’m going to score higher than you.”

“I would love to see you try,” Morgan scoffed, then flashed a smile at Alan.

“I plan to study hard no matter what,” Raphael said. He lowered his gaze and scratched the back of his shaved head. It had been a while since he’d shaved it and stubble was beginning to poke through. “I’m glad to be here, you know. In our Class. With all you guys.” His cheeks reddened slightly.

“Well, an idiot like me needs to study hard,” Tock said with a nervous laugh. “Or else I’ll never keep up!”

Sensing the direction the conversation was moving, and feeling relaxed in a way she had never felt once in her life, Lumia made a decision on a whim. She first donned a smile, then bit her lip, and finally settled on a neutral expression. Her jaw thanked her for the chance to rest.

“I never spoke about this,” she said, a slight quiver in her voice, “but at home—I mean, in the place I came from, I have a sister. Before I left, I promised her I would study hard and fix the world for her.”

Tock shuffled closer to Lumia, concern crossing her face. “Do you miss her?”

“I—”

It was like she’d been struck. Misery and longing pooled up and raged inside her, banging against the walls she’d confined those feelings in with such overwhelming force. Her eyes stung and she let out a strangled gasp. Trying not to let her emotions break her, she crunched forwards to try and contain it all. Her hands sprung to her eye, ready to swipe away any rogue tears that threatened to betray her.

“I’m sorry,” she strained. “Something must have got into my eye and—”

Rather than mock her, however, her classmates were all concerned. For her. They were worried about her! Tock put a hand on her back, Raphael offered a smile, Leo looked downright miserable, and Alan toyed with his meus.

Her arms folded, Morgan stared intently at the deck of cards in Leo’s hands. “I do understand how you feel,” she admitted. “When I was in primary school, I too had a family that I was close to. When we parted for secondary school, I was very upset.”

Lumia sniffed. “But I thought that Platonians didn’t have families.” Well, they had a familia, but that was different.

“Not in the usual sense,” said Leo, putting a bitter emphasis on the word. “Once we start school, and when we move onto work, our family is the people that we are assigned to live with. We never know our birth parents. We’re never allowed to. For the sake of developing into better Platonians.” He smiled wryly. “At least, that’s what everyone says.”

Lumia couldn’t help but think that was rather miserable. Moving from familia to familia, never putting your feet down and having a foundation. They were always working, always being shaped and made into the perfect students, the ideal Platonians.

Most of her pain had simmered down now, so Lumia drew herself up and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. Please forget you ever saw me like this.”

“Saw what?” Tock giggled. “All we’ve been doing is playing some stupid card game.”

“It’s an unspoken rule, but familias should stick together in Plato,” Raphael said. “They’re the only ones who ever care about you, anyway.”

Alan bobbed his head. “Yeah, I wouldn’t do anything for another student here. But if you needed a favour I’d probably help. Depends on how busy I am.” Tock shot him a death stare, and Alan flinched. “Er, well, I mean I’ll make time for you.”

Lumia couldn’t stop herself from smiling. A genuine smile. When was the last time anyone had ever offered to help her? When was the last time someone had cared about her for reasons that did not benefit themselves? Genuine love was a concept she was convinced was lost to all but herself and the books from Earth’s brighter past. The very concept itself was something she’d only understood through reading. There was nothing of the sort in Glassfall, just hunger and desperation.

And that made her want to cry, though this time those tears would be filled with joy. Not wanting to worry her friends—her family—any further, she decided to laugh instead. Once she began, though, she couldn’t stop it.

It started as a giggle, then built into something hysterical. Her tears fell freely, and far too heavily. At this point, now that she was finally feeling, she didn’t care if they saw. She let it all fall out, and for every tear lost there was more to replace it. One by one, her friends joined her. Before long, they were laughing at each other, laughing at nothing, laughing at the fact they couldn’t stop laughing. What did it matter? They were happy. With their assignments coming up, how often would they get a chance to feel this way? They must have gone on for hours like that, though a more rational part of Lumia’s mind told her it was only a couple of minutes.

Once they had all collected themselves, Lumia wiped away her tears. “About that class tomorrow,” she said. “Whatever it is, I think we should all try our best. As long as we work together, I’m certain we will be fine.”

There was no need to say it. Their bright smiles all told Lumia their agreement. Only Leo wasn’t smiling. Staring into the distance, he flipped a card from the top of the deck. It was a king.

Then seeming to come back to his senses, Leo put on an easy smile and addressed her. “Yeah, let’s show the school who we really are.”

There was a tightness in his voice, something cold and hurting in is words. Lumia knew she should have been concerned, but she was too elated to worry about such things. She chalked it up hunger. Together, their promises were made, and that meant more to her than she had the words to explain.

So that day she made a promise to herself. She would do everything she can to protect her friends, forgetting in the moment what that meant for her sister, Clementine.