XVII. Make a Splash
He cupped a hand over his mouth and stifled a yawn, and Jim's other hand tapped a pen on a page of his notebook in boredom while he listened to the literature professor read passages from a dead man's composition on Etherium maids, entities with Orcus tails from the waist down and were a common topic in old spacer legends. Whether they were real or not, nobody knew since all they were ever known for were their infamy of wreaking shipwrecks in every single tale about them, and no one wanted to believe in such things that caused much horrible casualties.
"The tale of Johann Kramm states that he was a frequent visitor of Far Westborough so he knew exactly how the seasons changed in that place," informed Prof. Everly as she read. "He came around every fourth month of the year when summer occurred in the same time as spring in Triptine and autumn in Lithe, and he would sit by the porch of his rest house with a journal in one hand and a cup of tea in another. Lemon, he mentioned since the citrusy tang complemented perfectly with the warm refreshing breeze from the barely populated planetside."
She lifted the book away from her face for a pause and a chuckle. "He really gets right into the details, doesn't he?"
Meanwhile, contradicting Jim's boredom was Dale's ardor seating just right beside him. A bit of the blond's enthusiasm seemed to wear off onto him because the lad would find himself grinning at his roommate's interest. He already gave up on guessing if the attentiveness was for the topic being discussed or for the instructor discussing the topic, but it could be both for all he cared. Jim simply knew that Dale was a huge fan of literature, and his ever-growing infatuation to Prof. Everly only strengthened that particular trait of his.
"At first, he frequented the planet for his little brother who owned a ranch in the area. He would recall the two of them rounding up Equui under the sun's early heat then have a hefty brunch back in the younger's vacation lodge. But one day, the ranch got bankrupt and his brother had to move out to find greener pastures. Johann Kramm later found out that ships were breaking around the harbor and the tourism in the place primarily declined because of it. Not only that, but witnesses also noted that comets frequently appeared in the horizon during the summertime and out of fear that one of these comets would land on the planet, the tourists avoided them by preferring to come around only after the summer months have gone by."
"But why did Johann Kramm return to the planet despite the circumstances, Prof. Everly?" a male student at the front row asked.
The woman smiled at her young pupil's inquisition. "He wanted to investigate the prime cause of the calamities, guessing that it would help clear things up for him and his little brother. So he rented out a rest house which would later become his famous spot where he got to write and publish hundreds of his famous personal essays. There he waited one night and true to the rumors he heard, he saw a comet make its way across the planet. With just a rundown dinghy to his name, he followed it which led him to an island loitering around the planet's borders and found out that the comet... was not a comet at all."
"What was it?" asked another student.
"According to his journal, Mr. Kramm noted that by the time the comet landed on the island, its speed will surprisingly slow down and instead of crash landing in a single huge mass, the glow surrounding the rock will disperse like lightning bugs. He rowed his boat closer to the landing site and found out that the glow he saw was in fact a reflective glimmer coming from the skin of peculiar beings with Orcus Galacticus tails for legs."
This time, Kate felt herself mouthing the words "Etherium maids."
"I wouldn't say Etherium maids just yet because that was not what Mr. Kramm called them until several years later," she informed with a laugh. "No, he called them Orcus maids at first because of their notable whale-like tails. Every year, he would wait by his porch and watch them in their same comet form approaching that particular island. He would observe them and later found out that the reason why they migrate in the form of a comet was a form of camouflage. An absence of passers-by during their exodus was the product of their elusive personality. Taking the form of a blazing rock of ice means that they could travel wherever they want across the galaxy without anyone getting in their way."
"That's pretty interesting," stated Rainier, crossing his arms and trying not to sound too impressed although he was in fact just trying to keep it all in.
"He compared them to migratory birds that flew south when winter came, the maids showing their fondness of the planet's favorable weather conditions. Mr. Kramm described that these guys can get intensely territorial, especially in a place that they really liked. Their pleasant disposition would quickly turn into something horrid, and they would hiss and fend away anything getting too close by throwing rocks at them. They were harsh whenever they noticed foreigners approaching the territory they claimed their own, and came to the conclusion that it was probably them who caused all the shipwrecks that occurred around the planet."
"How were they able do it?"
"The explanation wasn't explicitly stated, my dear. His scribblings indicate that the maids were nowhere to be found but he could hear their voices singing a pleasantly entrancing song. But afterwards... his whole account of the scenario just cuts there and then the passage moves on with him wondering what just happened while he was out of himself. The indication of this is that Mr. Kramm himself was caught into the melody and hypnotized to the point that he lost sense of everything that had happened. This also implied how the shipwrecks might've happened: everyone aboard the ship fell the song's spell that they've lost control of it and unconsciously led their vessel to its demise."
It was then the brown-haired Jim's turn to inquire and picked up from Kate's statement. "But how did Kramm come to the point that he'd rather call them Etherium maids if sinking ships is all that they were known for?"
"That's a good question, Mr. Hawkins," the professor praised with a hand indicating the young pupil. "In every part of an island where Etherium maids are said to be inhabiting, there are territories of thriving biomes remaining untouched by modern civilization which stand true even to this day. I suppose you can say that the maids are believed to have a part in this preservation, a habitual part in maintaining and protecting natural Etherium life mostly in the areas they have claimed their own."
Then the Leonid girl had to ask. "But Prof. Everly, the one thing that has been bothering me is how can we tell that the shipwrecks were the maids' doing when Johann Kramm wasn't able to make a viable record of them in the first place? For all we know, it could've been a calamity of some sort that had the ships crashing to the rocks below."
"That's also an excellent question, Miss Blake," she likewise commented and pointed to the lass. "The area around the island is in fact known to be the location of some of the most violent storms and whirlpools due to the isolated clustering of the archipelago. No record of the atmospheric activity in the area existed until the Great Terran Expedition in the point zero-seven century. All people had back then were tales, and Johann Kramm must've based the ship-wrecking Etherium maid characteristic after such phenomena. Because of that, this particular journal of his has been unofficially categorized as a work of fiction but because of how he has made the documentation about them sound so realistic, it is still unknown if his accounts were based from real observations or if they were just the product of his overactive imagination."
Getting her point across to the teens, she turned to pick up her lesson plan and traced a finger on its page. "And that is exactly what you'll be doing for this week's exercise!" she announced in a cheerful tone to her unwitting pupils, bringing an instant mood change in the lecture hall. "You will be working on an observational essay, applying the cognitive writing model that we have discussed which is apparent in most of Johann Kramm's essays."
Rainier lowly waved a hand in front of him to himself when he got the idea what he needed to do. "Psh, sounds easy enough."
"Quite an easy assignment you'd probably say, so let us kick things up a notch and add a bit of a challenge to it," she added then informed them of what they were least expecting. "The subject of your essay will be your writing partner."
Kate nearly choked on her words. "What?"
Jim almost slid off of his chair. "Wait... what?"
"What?!" the rest of their classmates likewise responded.
Their blown-up reactions, however, didn't faze the literature professor one bit. "The purpose of this exercise is to help you balance between the true nature of your subject and your own personal bias in the same way how Johann Kramm wrote his famous essays. In your case, your subject will be your partner, a person which is often a good starting point at observational writing. Also, your writing project has always been a team effort since the school term started, is it not?"
She paused to catch a glance of her pupils to see if they were still catching on. "Then this activity should test just how well you really get along with your teammate, giving you a chance to know each other a little more. And remember, you have to learn to hold back on your bias so I specifically don't want to see any trash-talking in your work," she warned with a small laugh and a finger waving in front of her. "Well then, let's get with the rest of my guidelines and your new deadlines..."
Jim winded up his tape recorder to take down her updates, slumped back on his chair and dragged a hand on his winced face, his fingers scratching the tip of one of his brows in frustration. Writing about people, including Kate, was already hard enough. It didn't help that the two of them monitored each other's works right before submitting their final outputs, and that meant the Leonid finding out what he wrote about her was inescapable.
On the other hand, he was looking forward to the writing exercise because the lad had to admit he was the tiniest bit interested to know what Kate probably had to say about him. Not that it mattered, but it would be like seeing himself through the eyes of a high-ranking official's daughter, more notably the eyes of a classmate a different gender from his which was something that didn't happen to him often.
The sound of the school bell soon ended the lecture, and the brown-haired lad had never felt so relieved in his life to hear it rattling him back to his senses. He was just about to walk away from his seat until Rainier excused himself to consult something with Prof. Everly. Dale went with him but not because he was his partner. Jim rolled his eyes, knowing that the blond was just thinking of a good excuse to get close to the professor even if there was nothing he had to consult her for. It was a smooth move though, he could give Dale that.
While Jim and the Loppytonian Chris waited for their roommates, the former noticed his red-haired writing partner chatting with her colleagues before walking away, now approaching where he was and knew immediately that she was about to brief him about their new assignment.
"Hello, Jim," she greeted as if right on schedule.
"Hey. So, what's gonna be our approach for Everly's assignment this week?"
Her eyebrows knit as a serious expression filled her face, her fingers running on her chin as she thought. "Indeed. We can do the exercise individually like our usual approach, but it would be quite haphazard, not to mention lacking if we go for that since we would just end up writing out of misinformation from, how Prof. Everly put it, our personal bias."
"Hmm… that's what we're supposed to steer away from, right? Then if there's anything lacking in our work, shouldn't we just, I don't know... research for whatever it is?"
Kate snapped her fingers like she just had a 'eureka!' moment. "That's right, research. Though I should tell you this right now. The process for that is going to be quite complicated for this exercise, so I'm going to give you a heads-up to know if you're quite up to it."
"Well, it couldn't be that bad. What're you planning then?"
"I need a study meet with you," she flat-out told him. "Just the two of us."
Jim blinked, mildly taken aback by her suggestion, and thought twice as he ran a hand on his cheek.
"I know it's not our usual approach but I thought it'd be the best approach to observe you in person while writing my part of the exercise," she explained.
'So, it's a date,' in contrary, he somehow heard Rainier's voice echoing in his head, probably because of the Cervid's constant bantering that Jim felt like an expected remark was coming for the scenario he was in.
"If you want to, you may see it as an opportunity to observe me for your own notes."
Still, she was met with silence.
His lack of response now had her baffled, and Kate called on it. "Jim?"
'Hey, mate. She's totally asking you out,' spoke the inner Rainier voice that had been stopping him from saying anything, although he could clearly see Kate waiting for his answer subconsciously. Still, it did not occur to him that he was just gaping at her all that time.
"Jim," she spoke again but this time, out of remorse. "I'm sorry, it—it might've been too straightforward of me to ask you of..."
Forcing himself back to his senses, Jim blinked the delusion away and stammered to talk the girl back into her suggestion. "No, no, I'm fine. I wasn't thinking on it. It's just I wasn't counting on... a one-on-one with—" He cut his sentence short when he realized that he was spewing nonsense out of nowhere. "Never mind but yeah, you have a point. The in-person research is gonna take away a lot of the 'personal bias' compared to just sticking with my head and imagining the stuff I'm supposed to write about you."
"Yes, I'm glad that you're able to catch on so quickly," she applauded, agreeing exactly with his idea.
"It may not look like it but I listen to my lecture classes... most of the time," he added the last part in a low mumble which he was thankful that Kate wasn't able to quite hear it. "Anyway, I'm down for the meeting. So, when will it be?"
The Leonid hummed and paced a bit. "I'm not sure. One or two meetings within the week should be enough but I can't do one today. I still need time to research more on Prof. Everly's guidelines."
"Well, you can say that I'm a free guy right after astronomy class," he easily replied with a shrug.
A grin swept across her face in contentment and replied before she could walk away. "Alright then, I'll give you an update the first chance I get."
Trays and trays of mantabirds lined the laboratory's study tables for that day and the rancid scent of embalming chemicals evaporating in the air brought tears to irritated eyes if their face was brought close enough to the specimen to smell it. The first of many dreaded dissecting sessions had come and the students needed to remember all they've learned about the digestive as they apply it with the slice of their scalpels.
"Okay, class. For today's session, you will get to observe an actual digestive tract inside a mantabird!" cheered biology professor Laurent Mortimer with an enthusiastic flick of his pointer stick to a mantabird anatomy chart posted on the chalkboard behind him. "As I said a few meetings ago, you'll be working with these fellers. Mantabirds, the common pest of every spaceport in existence. They're not that hard to get by since they all just flock around, clog up the harbor and cause landing and take-off problems for our ships. Fortunately, biology classes are actually doing them a favor with the species' population control because mantabirds have the perfect study examples for a standard digestive tract."
He then pointed to the creature set on his desk. "They're already lifeless, as you can see, and preserved for about a couple of days now but that doesn't mean all their bodily fluids have been completely drained. Now that's what you all should be careful with, which is why I instructed all of you to wear your protective gear."
The teenagers nodded and adjusted their lab gowns and rubber gloves upon his word, afraid of blood, bile or some other gunk getting on their skin and attire that would have them smelling like vomit for the rest of the day.
'Uncomfortable' was the exact word that described just what his students were feeling at the time, with some looking in horror at the two feet-long mess sprawled out in front of them and several others plunging their glove-protected fingers into its damp and blubbery flesh out of curiosity.
"I did mention that the exercise will be done in pairs, didn't I?" the man surveyed the class to remind himself which they promptly affirmed. "Then I assume that you've already paired up with someone?"
Again, the class answered 'yes' to confirm.
"Good, then this is how you're going to do it. There are two tasks to be done: one-half of the pair will be reading through the instruction card while the other will do what their partner reads them to do. Who gets to do which depends on you, though you are allowed to switch with each other's roles along the way if that's what will make the job easier."
The students pulled down their lab goggles in preparation and just as they were about to shield the bottom half of their faces with protective masks, Prof. Mortimer followed up. "And one more thing, try not to make any major mistakes. Don't get me wrong, we have lots of specimen in stock but since you're all working around the clock, it'll be best if you don't make space for re-dos. Good luck and just raise your hand if there's anything you need to bring to my attention."
On his word, the cards, scalpels and forceps were picked up by gloved hands and soon, the first lengthwise cut down the mantabird's torso was made. One pair working on their exercise was Jim reading out the instructions for Rainier while the other pair beside them were their other two roommates working on their own exercise together.
"Hey, does this look good to you?" asked Rainier in a muffled voice through his mask.
His partner peeked into the long opening, a bit of the pale surface of the creature's musculature in view, and nodded his head in satisfaction before bringing his eyes back to the instruction sheet. "Yeah, that's good. Now we need to cut across it to make the flaps."
"Roger," said the Cervid without taking his eyes off the specimen, his face giving away the same determined look he made whenever he was repairing ships in his home planet despite being fully covered with protective gear. Once done with the incisions, he looked to Jim as a gesture of moving on to the next task of folding back the flaps with forceps. They went on to pinning down the muscle layer and removing parts of the mantabird's rib filaments to get a full view of its organs.
Meanwhile, Dale and Chris were at about the same pace as they were, the latter making a careful incision on the thick muscle covering the specimen's entrails while the former looked on, trying his best not to throw up or faint off of his chair, and clasped the instruction card tightly in his glove-covered clammy hands.
Then came the tricky part. "Okay, Rainier. Next is a lengthwise incision on the muscle up here so we can see how the liver connects to the stomach."
A short pause. "Oh, no."
"What's wrong?"
"There's a whole lot of tubes leading to the bile ducts right there," advised the lad in precaution. "I might end up hitting one of them if I slice that way across, and I really don't wanna mess with the bile ducts 'cause everyone knows that they stink. Literally."
His partner hummed in thought. "Yeah... but let's try cutting lengthwise anyway," a hesitant Jim advised, reading through the directions twice just to be sure.
"If you say so," he complied in dread and pierced his scalpel into before slowly dragging it across the mantabird's flesh. A grin signified his growing confidence at how well he was doing and soon, he was already halfway from where he started. But his hope was short-lived when his scalpel hit something tough beneath the muscle and when he couldn't move past it, the lad lifted the instrument away and a dash of yellowish fluid spurted itself onto his white coat.
"Ah, crap! That was a freaking wrong move," cried Rainier as he pulled away the stained fabric of his lab attire and looked down on it in shame, pulling out ply after ply of disposable napkins from a dispenser.
While his pal wiped away some slime that got on him, Jim took the scalpel from his pal's hand and offered a different way to take on the job. "Here, let me try."
And indeed, the brown-haired lad did just as he said and plunged the scalpel back into the specimen. This time, Jim got way past his roommate and was able to complete the incision in a crosswise direction contrary to what the instructions told him to do. However, just when he was finished, the lad took the sharp instrument away and another spray of the same yellow substance got itself on him. This time, there was enough to be able to reach up to his mask. The shock had him stepping back from the table and dropping the scalpel to the floor. "Oh, jeez! Come on!"
Not even finished with wiping himself, Rainier already threw himself back to the dispenser. "Hang in there, Jim. I'll get you something to wipe with."
"Son of a... where'd that scalpel went off to?!" Jim grumbled, down on all-fours searching for the tool that slipped his fingers.
Made curious by the racket, Morph peeped out from Jim's lab coat pocket and instead of helping the two out, the mischievous blob just chuckled, deciding to sit back and watch the show.
"Wait a minute, Jim! You're mucking up the workstation!"
"The heck, Rainier! It's just gonna get dirty again anyway!"
"Dang it, Jim, ditch it! That's not the only scalpel we have!"
"And let our feet get done in by what just dropped on the floor? I don't think so!"
The shape shifter laughed at them once more, but when he briefly looked away from them, a different view took him by surprise and he uttered in slight alarm. "Uh-oh."
Rainier heard his squeaky little voice and asked "What is it, Morph?" before turning his sights to where the pink blob was looking off to.
The pair paused from their commotion when they finally noticed a portion of their classmates staring at them, an amused look on their faces for apparently hearing everything they just said. Jim's eyes wandered around the room, feeling a tad embarrassed and exposed despite being fully covered in protective attire. He caught sight of the people observing him from the very front row, among the spectators was the Leonid Kate. It took one long second before the girl noticed him staring back which had her turning her back to them and facing her workstation once more, one by one followed by the many others seated behind her.
Then asked Rainier when the heat was off of them, now holding out a clean napkin for him. "That didn't go too well, did it?"
Gladly, Jim took the cloth from the guy's hand and daubed away some stains that got onto his face. "Well, the opening we made to the liver was a success but, uh... yeah, we definitely sucked at that," he agreed before throwing the now soiled fabric to a trash receptacle.
He then moved past that by picking up the utensil he dropped and the pair moved on to finish the rest of the exercise but not without encountering another mishap or two. They soon called on the professor to check on their work and despite their sloppy looks and disheveled workstation, the pair's output was considered satisfactory to the old man's eyes. He gave them both excellent remarks on his grading sheet and instructed them to clean up before they could leave. However, Prof. Mortimer wasn't just going to let them slip away that easily.
"Next time, my lads, do try to keep your expletives down," he counseled them in lighthearted humor. "Your classmates can clearly hear your voices echoing within the room, and the exercise can already get filthy enough as you might've observed if not from the rather interesting choice of… dirty words."
Abashed, Jim wanted to bring his hand to scratch the back of his head but remembered the surgical gloves on his hands. Instead, he just let out a small chuckle at the professor's kind advice on their apparent surplus of swears. "Yes, sir. We'll try to fix that."
He watched the man walked away to another student and later heard his other two roommates giggling at their situation. Rainier threw an arm around Jim's neck to shake him around and in jest, Jim got out of his hold and lightly elbowed him by the arm with a laugh.
"Come on, let's start packing," chuckled the Cervid and resumed with picking up the utensils they used and bringing them to the wash area.
On the other hand, Jim took out a rag, rinsed it in a basin of water and disinfectant concentrate and started wiping away the stains on their station, making sure to scrub twice in case he missed a spot. Once done, he brought the basin to the wash area where Rainier was just about done rinsing their equipment.
Placing it on the sink, Jim instructed him. "You go ahead and get changed, I'll finish up here."
"Sure thing," saluted the roommate as he lugged the paraphernalia away and back to the shelves where he got them.
The brown-haired lad proceeded to wash the rag and when he was about to wring it, he saw the red-haired Kate join him in a bit, with a rack of surgical tools in her hands also in need of a good rinse. They stayed washing in silence until he noticed the lass cleaning out some forceps.
"So, how did it go? The dissection exercise I mean," he inquired.
She looked away from the sink and to the stains on his coat and mask which quickly caught her light brown eyes, the lad appearing like he just passed through an explosion of various substances. "It was fine, though I think it went better for me than it did for you."
The lad scrunched his eyebrows at her statement but later realized what she meant with that when he compared himself to her barely tarnished garb and still professional-looking presence, making known the competitiveness emanating from her. "Oh, right. About that..."
"Not a word, Jim," she dismissed with a slight roll of her eyes. Setting down the tool she had scrubbed, the girl pulled off one of her gloves and reached into her pocket to take out a folded-up handkerchief. "Here."
A questioning look made its way to Jim's face, his eyes going back and forth to Kate and the cloth she held out to him. "What's that for?"
"I feel like I owe you and your friends a favor after your assistance last weekend so I'll consider this as one less person in my line of debt now. The handkerchief will help with the remaining stains on your face but there's not much it can do with the scent that will be left behind."
Although mildly flattered, the lad couldn't help but snicker at her words. "You really don't have to, Kate."
"Take it as my thanks, and you two did give the class a good laugh," she said with a straight face, implying the ruckus he and Rainier were making earlier, and slid the handkerchief into one of his lab coat pockets to Jim's surprise. With that out of the way, Kate gave him a tilt of her head before putting her glove back on and returning to her work of rinsing her apparatuses.
Jim opened his mouth to say something but the words never came out, perhaps unsure of what to say next in return or if he even had anything to say back. He wanted to thank her, but her follow-up phrase also had him thinking about the embarrassment he got from it. Turning away from the girl, he just let the thought slowly drain from his mind like water seeping from the rag that he held. He closed his eyes shut and blinked the words away, this time thankful for the protective gear covering his face so that Kate couldn't see through him and his obscure reception to her words.
"Alright, kids. Today, we'll just have an orientation on your two-part exercise on ship maintenance," announced the long-haired Prof. Pulver to his ship engineering students. "The goal for today is to get you situated in the group you'll be working with in this activity, as well as give you the mechanics and some important pointers."
The Cervid Rainier, upon hearing the word 'group', quickly pulled Jim by the arm followed by Chris and Dale, implying he already thought ahead and enlisted the guys he would like to work with even before his classmates had the chance to draft them.
At the berth their class section was assigned to, a row of about seven stationary torpedo boats were docked in and all looked like could use some repairs. They were all lacking sails and their laser cannons looked unused for a long time. How Prof. Pulver was able to get his hands on all these wasn't a mystery, though. With a number torpedo boats being put into retirement on a daily basis, it was now clear that this was where some of them wound up in.
The instructor had begun announcing his instructions. "You will be working in groups of five, and will each be assigned to one of five roles I specifically picked out for this particular activity. These roles are the following: the captain, the quartermaster, the pilot, the boatswain and the gunman. It's all up to you which one you'll have as long as you stick to that role throughout the entire exercise." He then gestured to the ships parked at the edge of the wharf. "See those ships over there? The first part of your exercise is to fix one which your group will later be assigned to. There's no need to choose which ship is yours 'cause they're all staged for repairs in the exact same way. All you have to do is figure out what your chosen position can do in repairing and maintaining it."
Suddenly, Rainier noticed his roommates snickering behind him under their breaths and understood exactly why. "Oh, quit it, you guys," he shushed them in a low mumble, his roommates knowing that of all the things the black-haired Cervid had been trying to avoid, it was his family's business of repairing ships. The lad had grown tired of the work's same old routine but somehow, it followed him even to the academy. There was no escaping it!
"The second part, however, is more difficult. The following week after I've graded your vessels, you'll be guiding them through an obstacle course that I'll prepare to test just how well you know your ship's mechanics. This means if you're already having a hard time with working on your ship, then you'll most certainly have a harder time working with it. I suppose this is sufficient to say that your grade on the second exercise will rely a lot from your first."
The professor's heavy announcement had Dale swallowing like a huge lump in his throat. Sure enough, he wasn't the only one pressured by the activity they were about to partake, given that a huge chunk of their grades would be cut out if they didn't do well at the first half of it.
"It's only fair that these two activities are executed that way. You are in ship engineering class after all, but don't worry. All the repairs you need to do are the basics we've discussed in class, which I know you'll be able to take care of. I won't have you all working on something I know you can't handle," he advised as a breather for some of his already tense pupils.
Then for a moment, the sight of gray lightly clumping nearby caught his attention and he remembered the memo he had received about it earlier. "Our astronomy department had just observed comet activity within the quadrant about two hours ago. Comets do leave huge trails of ice and dust behind so don't be surprised about the sudden change in the skies."
Jim took note of the report, understanding what the professor meant based from his own past observations of the blazing space rock, through his up-close encounter with one during a longboat joyride with a scalawag friend of his and the tales the old pirate had told him about it.
Dale, unfamiliar with the kind of weather a comet brought in its path, wheezed at the word when he felt an itch in his throat. "Dust?"
Hearing the lad's interjection, Prof. Pulver whipped out his hand and pointed to the forming overcast about a mile away. "Yes, that explains the gray stuff pilling up like the ones over there. The stuff should vanish in just a couple of days, but what we should be worried about is the ice."
"Ice?!"
Gladly, he further explained the phenomena particularly for most of his students who didn't have a clue yet with how the spaceport weather worked. "While the spaceport atmosphere can hold back dust because let's face it, dust is nearly weightless, the ice pilling up makes the atmosphere laden until it becomes so heavy that it can't hold back all of the moisture any longer. This ice then melts as it reaches ground level and becomes what we see as a spaceport drizzle. It's usually just a rainstorm so in the meantime, we all have to take our business indoors if we don't want to get soaked. Expect the weather to start declining this afternoon."
For his last bit of pointers, the man reminded. "I will be posting the rest of the exercise's requirements, along with the materials that you'll need on my announcement board but for now, I'll leave you to group with your mates and discuss your respective roles. Oh, and before you leave, don't forget to submit a list of your group's members so I can work on your grade sheet right away."
"Yes, sir," answered the teens and once the man had left, they were now all free to mingle and make all the noise they want.
The blond lad wheezed, feeling all the words he'd been wanting to say spewing out of him like overflowing water. "This is bad, you guys."
"What, you mean the weather?" his Cervid roommate asked to clear up just what he was all riled up with.
"Well, yes… It will do in my sinuses pretty bad, but that's not what I intended to bring up. What I mean is our grades, they're in the line of a terrible domino effect if we don't do well in the first ship exercise," he whimpered, biting on his fingernails in a frantic pace.
"Relax, Dale," appeased Jim with a hand patting his back out of comfort. "We're gonna work it all out, as a team."
The Loppytonian commented. "And by team, I think you mean we have Rainier to help us out with the rest of the fixing."
"Very funny, Chris," the black-haired lad replied flatly, as opposed to Jim who was chuckling at what he meant. "And here, I thought I'd be free from all that ship-fixing biz in this place."
"I've had my fair share of experience working on ships, Chris," Jim enlightened him which also helped Dale to calm down. "So that will keep Rainier from having to go through the whole ship fix but for now, we need to assign ourselves with the roles Pulver gave in his guidelines."
"Sweet! Well, we already have a sure gunman right here," gestured Rainier to the Loppytonian who scratched his head and replied in a modest tone of voice.
"I won't exactly say 'sure', but you know I try especially when it comes to Quark II."
Jim then started taking down notes of their role assignment. "Okay, I guess we have that down. Who gets to be the boatswain? Someone good with maintaining resources and watching over supplies should do the trick."
"I can do that much, Jim," volunteered Dale. "If it means not having to climb around ropes and masts all the time, then keeping an eye on our supplies should be manageable even for me. And I do have an idea how the supply and demand goes around in a ship."
His antlered roommate cooed at his eloquent and know-it-all speech. "As expected of the economics master."
"Great, now we need a captain, a quartermaster and a pilot."
"I call dibs on the first mate!"
Jim huffed a breath as he took note of his pal's volunteer. "Really, Rainier? For someone who makes the calls all the time, I thought you'd be the kind to take the lead."
Chris brought up what he remembered the brunet told them on their first day of class. "Well… since you said you've had a fair share of working with ships, I think we'd get a better edge on the exercise with your know-how on these things."
"You should definitely take on the role of the cap, Jim. Just because I can work on ships doesn't automatically mean I already know how to work with one, which I really really can't," Rainier stressed his situation which Dale thoughtfully nodded at. "And since you're already doing so well on the job appointment, no doubt that you'd do well from here on throughout the exercise."
Weighing out their suggestions, the lad shrugged before verifying their updated list. "Okay… if you guys say so. That leaves just one last position in our team. Who's gonna be our pilot?"
"Any person coming to mind that we should pull in with us?"
He let out a hum, pondering and looking around the area for familiar faces. "Obviously, either Kate or Mon won't be joining us since they're assigned at the other berth," he thought out loud. "And we're gonna be one person too many to handle the whole Deirdre-Ivy package."
"Yeah, that's not really gonna work." Rainier's eyes trailed to the ground in apparent disappointment. "Anyone else?"
In a half-hearted jest, Chris brought up. "How about Ferdinand Escamillo?"
"No!" Jim and Dale both quickly answered in loud, serious unison.
Their mutual responses had the lad cracking up. "Okay, sheesh! I was just kidding," he appeased with both hands raised up in defeat.
The Cervid iterated the question. "So, where are we gonna pull our pilot from?"
Jim looked around the berth once more and noticed a figure standing in solitude among their classmates. He immediately recognized who it was even with the person's back turned to them, and thought that it wouldn't be so bad to offer her the last position in their group. He remembered he still owed her some of his thanks anyway.
"Won't hurt to try. Come on," he invited and off they went to her direction.
Once they had arrived close enough to where the lass stood, Jim cleared his throat in greeting. "Hey."
The girl whipped around to the sound of someone's call and noticed who it was. "Hey," she replied back to the familiar face, her eyes going back and forth in uncertainty of the other three students behind him, wondering what they were crowding around her for.
"Guys, this is Lillian Morstadt. We know each other from algebra," began Jim with a hand motioning to the lass before doing the same to introduce his roommates to her one by one. "And these guys here are my roommates Rainier Mason-Trelawney, Dale Wess and Chris Levey."
"Hey," the Loppytonian greeted with a salute which she acknowledged with a nod. Dale shyly waved a hand to her in a bit, but Rainier always tended to be the most outspoken.
"Hey, I know you. You're the gal who helped Jim from getting his butt toasted from that algebra pre-test!"
"Yeah, and I think I remember who you guys are," she commented back.
The Cervid beamed. "Really?"
The girl began enumerating. "You're the kid from freshman algebra Mr. Amie called out in the middle of his lecture for sleeping in class."
Slightly embarrassed that she remembered him because of that one instance, the black-haired boy could only sheepishly chuckle. "Oh, wow... Yeah, that was me. I totally forgot that we were classmates during that period."
"Well, that was the only time I can remember you with. Sorry about that." Next, she began recalling about her time with Dale. "And I know you from that thing with Salle and his homework deal."
A smile appeared on the blond's face for remembering the exact same time when he became acquainted with her. "Yeah, that's me. I didn't get to tell you this before but thank you for helping Jim and me get out of all that hot air, Miss Morstadt."
A certain look crept on Jim's face and tilted to Dale's direction, surprised that his roommate got to thank the girl first before he could.
"It's nothing really, so don't mention it," she replied appreciatively before moving on to Chris. "Not sure if I have anything on you, but you were also there around that time when Jim and Ferdinand were getting a scolding from the drill sergeant."
"Yep, he was with us!" confirmed Rainier before Chris got the chance to, and reached his hand out to offer her handshake. "Still, it's nice to now officially meet you."
The black-haired girl accepted his gesture and gave it a single firm shake in return. "Likewise."
"So, uh…" With the formalities out of the way, Jim looked around before lifting his head to a cloud-riddled sky, thinking of a way to start the real conversation. "Pulver said we're in for some weather this afternoon."
"Yeah, he did say that," she replied that went to a low mumble, tilting her head down a bit while a hand raised her pink scarf to the bottom part of her face as if out of caution.
Jim noticed the gesture and questioned her about it. "You okay?"
"I'm fine" was her half-hearted reply, in a mixture of discomfort and still of lingering uncertainty about what the deal was with the crowd gathered in front of her.
Sensing the girl's unease, Jim went on to relieve her of it and moved to bring up the topic. "You already set with your team?"
"Not yet," she huffed and enlightened them about her current group-less situation. "Since most everyone I know is stationed at the other berth, I've only been keeping a look out for folks in our class that I think I'll be working with. Or just waiting for some kind soul to take me in. That works, too."
"Well, you're now in good hands, milady. The cavalry has arrived!" Rainier interjected.
Chris spoke up to clarify his statement. "He means if you're alright with it, we'd like to have you in our team."
The black-haired girl crossed her arms and took a short pause to gather her thoughts before voicing out her interest. "It depends. What else do you need?"
"A pilot is the last vacant position in our list," informed Jim. "But if you're not cool with that, maybe we can work something out to—"
Without having to finish the lad's suggestion, she cut in with a brighter tone than when the team spotted her. "Alright, count me in."
"Excellent!" all of a sudden, Rainier exclaimed with a pump of his fist. "This team is now open for business."
He set a hand on his notepad once more and right before he could assign Lillian the role, Jim took to confirm their newest member. "You sure?"
"Trust me," she confirmed with a smirk. "I may not look like it, but I know my way around a helm."
"Then I'm just gonna take your word for it," permitted the lad while he jotted that down.
Suddenly, a drop fell on Jim's head and he jerked at the chilling sensation. He looked up to were it seemed to have come from until he noticed another one splattering on the dry earth below. For another second, he felt several more falling on his hair and jacket, but it wasn't just him getting pelted this time. Even his teammates could feel themselves getting damp.
Then they heard what seemed to be the sound of raindrops getting louder from a distance, and finally got the message of the storm that was slowly spouting down heavier on all of them.
Jim felt Morph squirm in his pants pocket as if trying to tell his owner to retreat. In a fit of rush, the brunet hid his notes under his unbuttoned jacket and advised the team when he saw the overcast slowly looming to the academy right where they stood. "We should probably head inside."
His Cervid second-in-command agreed to his alarm. "Good idea."
And with that, all five of them broke into a sprint from the downpour that seemed to be racing against them, having the same idea as their classmates to reach the academy veranda in time where a roof would be over their heads to keep them sheltered from the temperamental weather.
Rainier was the first to step inside one of the covered walkways followed by Jim and the rest. Dale as the last one to arrive, however, literally found himself tumbling in when his foot got tripped by an elevated walkway tile.
"Dale!" exclaimed his brown-haired roommate who threw his arm out to him.
The lad looked up only to see that Lillian was making the same gesture, and he reached out both his arms to the two of them who pulled him up and had him standing back on his feet. He then dusted off his knees and straightened himself out like regaining his composition to make it look like nothing embarrassing just happened earlier. "Thanks, Jim."
"It's alright, man. We got you," reassured the lad.
"And thank you, too, Miss Morstadt," he added with an appreciative smile.
An amused snicker left her upon his words, funny to her since she was not used to being addressed so formally by a fellow student. "Do you really have to keep calling me that?"
"Sorry," he quickly apologized. "I've already told Jim and the guys that there's this last name basis for calling out people's names back in my home planet. That's pretty much the culture there and I guess it just grew on me."
"Since you put it that way, it's fine. But I'd like it best if you just call me Lillian from now on."
A couple thoughtful nods of his head affirmed that. "Of course, that'd be great."
"And it was no problem at all, Dale."
The blond nodded one last time in response. After watching the whole exchange between the two, Jim decided it was his turn to speak up. "And, uh, thanks as well."
"For what?"
A finger brushed his chin as he thought. "Let's see: for helping me out with the pre-test, for holding back Ferd when our fight was going too far, for that advice to head straight to the infirmary so we could avoid the drill sergeant…" A small chuckle escaped his mouth and a second later, he noticed the girl laughing with him when she finally got the idea. "You want me to keep going?"
"You missed out the part with the book cart," she humored as her chuckles subsided. "But I think I'm good. Like I said, it's no problem at all."
He smiled in relief, glad to have finally let out everything that was on his chest, and looked away until his blue eyes were met by the skies again. "It's really coming in buckets, isn't it?"
"Sure is. How long is this gonna keep going for?"
"Dunno, I heard that it could last for two to three days."
Her head flinched back and she adjusted her pink scarf up once more. "That sucks. If it's gonna be like that, I sure as heck won't be feeling well for a while."
"That makes two of us, Lillian," agreed Dale, taking out a white napkin from his tote in preparation for what he felt like would be one huge sneeze coming.