Chapter Two: Nikos
He could not recall any day quite as full as this one had been. The endless speeches had, at last, ended. The running around, the terrifying introduction to the drill instructors, a hasty meal, more speeches, more running, and whirlwind tour of the academy, was all over. Avocato had a stack of books and padds equal to almost half his weight, and that, he knew, was just the start. Finally, though, it was time to find his dormitory, to meet his roommate, and to - hopefully - sit still and relax for a few minutes before it was time to eat.
then he could sleep. He could not remember looking forward to going to bed quite so much in his life.
He just had to find out where he'd be living. It wasn't as easy as he'd thought it would be. For him, at least.
"Name?" asked the third-year cadet tonelessly, not looking up from his list. He sounded light-years beyond annoyed and surpassingly bored.
"Avocato, sir."
A few taps on the padd, and Avocato's information appeared on the screen. The third-year looked up to confirm he matched the picture, got a good look at Avocato, and frowned.
"Is this a joke?"
He blinked, having expected that monotone voice to just tell him a room number as he had everyone before him. "I'm . . . not sure I know what you mean, sir."
"Oh, don't you? You're not allowed to have a dyed coat, cadet." He gestured sharply with the padd. "You expect us to believe that is your actual color?"
Avocato blinked, his arms and back aching from hauling his books and bags all day. "Yes, sir."
"That would make you an Imperial."
And if he was? He couldn't see why it was an issue. It wasn't as if every Imperial born was poised to inherit the throne or a title. It wasn't as if the imperial family hadn't served in the military for millennia. And it wasn't as if his coloring dictated who he was, just what. His family, to put it mildly, was huge, and his lineage was not the business of this nosy cadet. So Avocato said nothing in response.
"Well?" demanded the third-year, his green eyes narrowing suspiciously. "I asked you a question."
"This is my actual color, sir."
He knew it wasn't what the cadet was fishing for, but it was the answer to the last real question flung at him. Behind him, the waiting queue of recruits shuffled and fidgeted, likewise weighed down and likewise anxious to settle into their rooms.
"That's not what I asked."
"It is, sir."
The third-year rose from his chair, leaning on the desk between them to lecture at Avocato. "Do you think you're clever? Do you think a bit of breeding will ensure you soar up through the ranks over the rest of us? That color won't shield you, even if it is real! Do you-"
"What is going on here, Cadet Purrina?"
The harsh tone, for once not directed at the new recruits, made everyone in earshot jump. A poised and severe fourth-year cadet strode into the entrance hall from behind Purrina's desk. Purrina snapped to attention, and Avocato and everyone stuck behind him did their best with their armfuls of books.
With a hasty swallow, Purrina tried to save himself. "Cadet Lin, a minor issue, sir. This recruit was refusing to answer my questions."
"He refused to give you his name? Because I don't know of any other relevant question it's your place to be asking these recruits at this time." Lin snatched the padd out of Purina's hand and looked at the information that had been - unnecessarily - scrolled through, then at Purrina. It was evident he had heard at least some of the exchange – if it could be called that – between Avocato and Purrina. "Recruit Avocato, was Cadet Purrina asking your name that you refused to answer?"
"Initially, sir, and I did answer. He was questioning the legitimacy of my coloring."
Lin nodded, satisfied with Avocato's honesty, before he fixed Purrina with a withering glare. "You have a line almost a hundred recruits deep waiting to get room assignments and settled in and fed before lights out while you waste time indulging your own inappropriate curiosity. The only one with an issue here is you. Go put yourself on report, Cadet. I'll talk to your squadron leader tonight." Ignoring Purrina, he briskly rattled off, "Avocato, 3rd floor, room 19. Closest stairs are through that door. Name?" he asked the calico female behind Avocato.
"Thank you, sir," Avocato breathed gratefully. He and Purrina fled in opposite directions, and Avocato was still going through the door when the girl caught up with him. He held it for her to slip past him, and they sighed in unison to see the steps winding upwards.
"At least you're on the third floor," she said as they set off. "I'm on the fifth."
"Apologies for the delay."
Unable to shrug with the load she was carrying, she huffed instead. "Hardly your fault. Besides, it was worth waiting to witness that dressing down. Avocato, was it?"
"Yes. And you?"
"Pawlette."
"Well met, lady," he said, and in his fatigue he fell back on the etiquette bred into him.
"That's cadet to you, sir," she said with a cheeky smile, tossing her orange crest of hair out of her eyes. "And someday, you'll be calling me Chief Engineer Pawlette."
"Yes, I will." He grinned, liking her already. "Do you play thimbles?"
She huffed again, as if that should be obvious. "Female Regional Champion for Rilp Provence two years in a row, thank you very much."
"Good to know."
"You?"
"I play."
"Come on," she urged. "Don't be shy. Best title."
"Ventrexian Senior Elite Champion."
"What? Team or singles?" she demanded in a squeak.
"Both," he admitted.
Her eyebrows rose as she tried to restrain how impressed she was. There was no higher ranking at student level sports. "Well, then. Welcome to my team, Cadet Avocato."
"Glad to be here, Chief." He laughed as he pushed open the door to his floor. "See you at drill."
"I suspect we'll be saying that a lot," Pawlette sighed as she pressed on.
The room assigned to him at the end of the hall was smaller than his closet at home, and Avocato was instantly awed that two people would be living here. It was a good thing he hadn't brought much with him. There were two beds, two desks, two dressers, two cubby holes that might grow up to be closets some day, with the smallest refresher he had ever seen. A pillow, a blanket, and a stack of linens sat on each unmade bed. Easing the tower of books onto one of the desks, Avocato groaned as he slid his bags off his shoulders and eyed the bare mattress. It was very tempting to just flop onto the bed and pass out, but he still had to unpack and get organized for tomorrow and make it back to the main hall for the evening meal. He hadn't been this hungry in forever, and that definitely trumped fatigue. For the moment, anyway.
"Are you sure you're in the right place? You must have missed the workman's entrance."
"Isn't this supposed to be the Royal Academy? How desperate is this school that they allow hayseeds in now?"
The voices reached him from out the door. The accents were cultured. The tones and word choices were not. Curious, Avocato left his unpacking and stepped into the wide, brightly-lit hall. It seemed some future officers were already trying to assert authority.
Immediately he spotted two recruits blocking the way of a third. The first speaker was a classic tabby color, sleek and handsome in a way that could be found in countless other Ventrexians his age, and odiously self-assured. In other words, he was perfectly average in appearance and obnoxious in his entitlement. His companion was white with black ears and tail and crest. Judging by his girth, he had never missed a meal in his life. Both wore precisely tailored uniforms and boots someone else had polished for them, and both clearly thought highly of themselves. Avocato sized them up in one glance: fourth or fifth children of some minor noble families, shipped off to the military to keep them out of trouble and debt. Most likely they had less chance of inheritance than glory.
And at the rate they were going, little enough glory awaited them as well.
They were facing a male the likes of which Avocato had never before met. Small in build, slim as a reed, and with the most striking blue eyes imaginable, his short, creamy fur and dark face and pointed ears marked him as coming from Ventrexia's equatorial zone. Everything about him looked sharp – his ears, his cheeks, his teeth, his fingers, his whip of a tail – and ready to strike.
Though his uniform did not fit to perfection and the bags across his back were small and worn, Avocato's inner martial artist was impressed by the way he carried himself and the inherent grace that came of strength. Clearly he was an athlete of sorts, because despite his small frame and bony leanness, he carried his stack of books easier than most, Avocato included. This newcomer looked as fast and dangerous as a snake compared to the arrogant and pampered young lords accosting him. He seemed quite taken aback, too, at the insulting question, but kept his silence and his cool.
With a little frown at their choice to start trouble before the academy even got started, Avocato decided to even the odds. The only other room this far down the hall was already occupied by two burly recruits, so this must be his roommate. And Ventrexia knew, Avocato was going to protect what was his. Why else was he here?
"Quite desperate, if you're representative of this year's class," Avocato said smoothly, then proceeded to ignore the pair of commonplace lordlings and addressed the exotic recruit. He smiled as if meeting an old friend. "Room 19? I just got here myself. Let me help with those books."
He shouldered between the two obstacles in his path as if they didn't exist and relieved the startled recruit of most of the books, casually saying, "Right this way. It shouldn't take us long to get set up for tomorrow's inspection. When did you arrive in Ventrex City?"
Leaving the two young lords at a loss as their attempt at class dominance sputtered out, Avocato smiled and kicked the door close in their faces as soon as his roommate joined him. He fell back against the door as the small recruit turned to face him.
"Well, I'm sure their parents love them almost as much as they love themselves," he said with a laugh.
His roommate laughed as well, displaying sharp teeth and a sense of humor. "I owe you thanks for the timely rescue."
"Really?" asked Avocato. "Because I think they should be thanking me for saving them."
Another laugh, and it was such a sound of genuine pleasure that Avocato found himself joining in. Living in a closet or not, he knew he and this spitfire would get along famously.
"You might not be wrong. I'm Nikos."
He spoke with a lilting accent that was far more musical than Avocato's mode of speech. His words were chopped, precise, as if each was precious and not to be wasted. It was completely new and fascinating.
"Avocato. It's a pleasure to meet you. Where are you from?"
He set his bags down and stretched much the way Avocato had. "The Saan River Valley, a little settlement called Vel Pitten in the Answaar region. You?"
"Alfitrix. A large settlement."
"It is, indeed." Nikos smiled, something he seemed to do easily.
"Play any sports?"
"Swimming's not considered a sport on most of Ventrexia, but I do a great deal of that when home."
"You can swim?" Avocato was genuinely astonished, and he turned from setting the books down to gape for a moment before catching himself. He had never met anyone who went swimming on purpose. As a general rule, Ventrexians avoided going into the water much the same way they avoided poison.
Amused at this reaction, Nikos nodded. "Very well. Everyone in my family can. It's something of a necessity when you live a stone's throw away from a river."
"So you throw stones and you swim," said Avocato. "Do you play thimbles?"
"Yes, but something tells me not nearly as well as you do. Recruiting a team?"
"Always," he grinned. "My brothers wouldn't play with me. I've got to make up for lost time."
"I'm just happy to escape my sisters." Nikos smiled, looking around the room. "It's more spacious than I anticipated."
"Really?" Avocato looked around anew, wondering if he should be impressed he was in a doll house. It was certainly impressive that they'd both somehow fit in here. He realized then that coming into this, he'd had absolutely no expectations for his sleeping accommodations, and so went with the flow. "I suppose it is."
They talked as they unpacked and stowed their belongings, getting acquainted and probing for common ground. Nikos' family were spice farmers, working land passed down through generations. He was the second of four children and the only boy. He was also here on a scholarship, and had never before traveled more than a hundred kilos from his home.
"Welcome to the far side of the planet. Call me if you get lost," gushed Avocato, quietly intrigued with everything he was being told. "Is it very different from home?"
"Yes. And cold."
"It's getting past summer, too," he warned, and Nikos groaned.
In return, Avocato said his father was a lord and businessman, while his mother was the lady of the house. Both statements were quite true, but he deliberately downplayed their status and his own. His father owned multiple companies and properties, some entitled, some not, and his mother was the Lady of House Cato. But as Catowba had often told him, there was no need to brag until there was a need to brag, at which point Avocato had enough shot in his locker to bury the competition. Until then, he'd hold his ammunition in reserve.
"Can I ask a personal question?" wondered Nikos as he hung a spare uniform.
"Fire away."
"Is that actually your color?"
Avocato laughed, having expected far worse. "Yes. I'm the family throwback." He gestured towards his face. "No whiskers either, you'll note. It runs in the family. Unfortunately, it ran into me."
Nikos chuckled, relieved he had not offended.
Nikos had packed even less than Avocato, and with his head start, they made quick work of getting settled. Finally, all that was left was the making of the bed, and, staring at the crisp sheets and blanket as if he'd never seen such things before, Grand Lord Catomar's son came to the realization that he had absolutely no idea of what to do. It seemed as if it should be a simple enough task. At home, the maids did it every day. But where to start?
If only he had known, he would have asked the maids. Or his brother Catomar.
"Best get a move on, Avocato," warned Nikos, smoothing the blanket and tucking it in neatly. "We have to have our rooms set up before we eat."
"Um . . ."
Nikos looked at him shrewdly, sizing him up, his blue eyes shining as he came to a realization. "You have no idea of what you're doing, do you?"
Avocato deflated, deciding honesty, no matter how painful, was his only salvation. Feeling utterly pathetic and useless, he admitted, "Not in the slightest."
"You've never made a bed?"
He sighed and gestured with both hands, his defeat complete. "Never."
Nikos started to laugh. "In your whole life? Either you're spoiled or a slob."
"Spoiled," he proclaimed instantly, embracing the truth and his ignorance.
Thoroughly entertained by his helpless yet sincere roommate, Nikos shook his head, and took sympathy on him. "I can work with spoiled, but not a slob. Since you saved two lives, I'll save one. First, clear everything off the bed. . ."
Step by step, he patiently walked Avocato through what for him was a commonplace task. If the end results were not quite as precise as Nikos' bed, it was a respectable first attempt, and Avocato resisted the urge to take a picture. His mother would be proud, but Catowba would shred him and Catomar with sarcasm if he did.
"I'll teach you how to polish boots in exchange," offered Avocato, hoping Nikos wouldn't think he was completely inept. His father's own valet had taught him how to make leather shine.
Nikos looked down at Avocato's knee-high black boots, so glossy that they reflected the light in sharp lines. He blinked, impressed. "Your work?"
"Yes."
"Deal."