Chapter Two: The Academy Generation

"Your question, Mr. Pattinson, for one whole extra credit point is..." began the history teacher, Professor Snelling. He gave the class eyes of excitement and mystery, but out of the whole class, just one person snapped their gum at him. "What information was revealed to the world when the United States declared war upon Brazil?"

Pattinson looked as if he was seriously knew the answer to the question, but still asked "Which war?"

"The American-Brazilian War of 2014. The only war that we've studied in the past chapter," said Professor Snelling with disbelief.

Pattinson gasped and smiled. "Oh, I know this one! It revealed that Americanada was a complete pig and only attacked regions for their energy sources!"

Professor Snelling smacked his hand against his forehead.

"What? That isn't right?"

The teacher sighed and walked towards Pattinson's desk. "First of all, Mr. Pattinson, although that biased opinion is true in some hearts, that was not the answer I was looking for. The correct answer is that it first revealed that Brazil did in fact have nuclear weapons. Secondly, would anyone like to point out Mr. Pattinson's mistake? Something about Americanada and attacking regions?"

Most of the class stared blankly at the teacher. A few were daydreaming out the window, were passing notes in the back of the classroom, or didn't look as if they were mentally there. Michael raised his hand.

"Yes, Mr. Ferguson?" Professor Snelling asked, full of hope.

Michael yawned and rubbed his eyes. "May I use the restroom?"

The teacher stepped over to Michael's desk. "You know, Mr. Ferguson, I haven't seen you in class for quite a while. I wonder what you have been doing these few days that has made you so tired."

"Professor Snelling," started another student next to him. "Don't you mean who he has been doing?"

A smug smile formed on Michael's face. The whole class was suddenly alive, roaring with laughter. Once the teacher rolled his eyes and walked back to the front of the room, Michael gave his jokester friend a high five.

"Here I am," growled Professor Snelling, giving his students the evil eye, "teaching a class of monkeys who don't even know their primary school geography! Mr. Pattinson, the problem with your answer was that in this time of the American-Brazilian War of 2014, Americanada did not exist yet! In this time, there were things called countries, and instead of dividing the world into ten main government unions with regions based on their largest cities, there was over three hundred countries, some great and small, some divided into provinces or states, which where then divided into counties, and then cities. Instead of places like Glasgow, Europe or Tokyo, North Pacific, there were cities of countries like Glasgow, Scotland or Tokyo, Japan. Does anyone remember learning this?"

A few students grumbled and nodded their heads.

"This may be your last year of secondary school, but I assure you that I will teach you the last fifty years of world history even if-"

The bell rang. In seconds, the classroom was empty again. Professor Snelling sighed.

The whole week over the Southern Uplands of Scotland proved to be a dreary one full of overcast skies, yet each and every student of the Academy sat outside to eat. This of course included the Victorias, who, though their unexcused absence count had recently been rising, had always sat under the same tree since their group had formed in the first year of the school's operations.

A thickly built teenager with dark brown hair put a hand on the large linden tree, looked up into its leaves, and scowled.

"Hey Moses! What is it?" called his friend, a boy of darker skin and hair. He and Michael carried the lunches: three take-out containers filled with a different kind of curry and a fruit salad for Moses.

Moses squinted out across the grounds to where a small group of five boys and two girls sat at one of the picnic tables. "Swim team. They sat under our tree yesterday. Artie, remember to give them a piece of my mind," he growled.

"Those sons of bitches. Aren't they all first-generation scum?" asked Artie, giving the group a death glare.

Michael sat down and took out his curry. "No, at least one of 'em's second generation. Keeps bragging about his telekinetic Mum." The three of them burst out in laughter.

"Hoy, Babel. Where's Gordo? I even remembered to get him chicken curry this time and he doesn't show!" Artie frowned.

Michael shrugged. "Dunno. I suppose it's a hangover. It's a pity that they've passed that continuum law. He could've just when back in time and told himself not to take all those shots."

"Like he would listen to his own future self anyway," laughed Moses. They all agreed, continuing on with their joking in conversation. The only conversation of any value came near the end, from Moses.

"You know, I just got a transfer in... um, one of my classes, I don't know what the hell it is... but yeah. Her name's Dana. She's a transfer from Polish... er, you know that Polish region place..."

"Warsaw?" suggested Michael.

Moses nodded. "Right. Well, she doesn't speak. Nothing. Nada. I even heard from the teachers. A real live mute!"

Artie looked to Moses and grinned. Moses mirrored the grin. They both looked at Michael.

"C'mon guys," he rolled his eyes.

Moses and Artie started to stare him down. "C'mon Babel," Artie started. "Just last week you said that you could get anyone that goes to the Academy..."

"... without a dick." added Moses.

Moses stared into Michael's slightly entertained face. "Well, Babel. Here's your challenge. Let's see if you can charm a girl with your omni-lingualism..."

"... when she won't talk back!" finished Artie. The two of them just kept staring and smiling.

Michael scoffed. "Alright. Fair enough. I accept the challenge. Now, how much am I going to sweep from you?"

"I'll put up thirty quid," said Moses.

"No," said Michael to the surprise of the others. "The pound is weak. I want Euros."

Artie scowled. "Bull! Just walk on over to a bank and change it yourself."

"And waste all the time when I could be spending it? No, there's no use supporting a dying currency. Have some concern for the economy!"

The other two rolled their eyes and started to dig into their pockets. "You're really something, Babel. You know that?" sighed Moses, digging into his pockets.

A/N: Early update for every review, like I promised before. So, you know what would be quite awesome? Another review. Not to be pathetic or anything...