A&A&A Boarding School
Authoresses' Note: We're sorry to say so, but this really will be the last update in a long time. We won't be back till Christmas. So don't expect us till then.
Well, to thank the reviewers.
Asha Ice: It's not what you think. It's not what you think. Now you will kill us. Oops, shouldn't have mentioned that.
Katatonia: We are sorry to sadden you so, but everyone needs a break. And we have been waiting for this holiday for ages and ages……our one dream, to see the Lord of the Rings sites…oh, we would give anything for it. Sorry.
Manveri Mirkiel: Hello, darling. Lydia dreamt of you last night. You were wearing a brown woolly hat. You liketh our last chapter not? How sad. Perhaps you will prefer this one more – wait, you won't. Most likely you will turn up on our doorstep with a lot of nice sharp needles. Erm, must run. Must run!
Angel(s and Demons): Is that your new favourite book now? Anyway, Lydia sent a letter to the Yahoo account. We're supporting no one in particular, since we don't particularly like either, but we hope Taufik wins. Because we dread to think what Sylvester would do on World Idol stage to the English language. He wrecked Music of the Night! (wail in anguish)
Cerse Liminara: Believe us, if we knew what it was, the whole world would be ourplayground right now – not something you want.
Silver Sniper: Short and sweet, encore.
Hotdogfish: Why thank you.
Dalamar Nightson: Thank you for reviewing so many times – and don't say anything about her – Keira Knightley – it was meant to be a surprise, you know…shhh…
Tsuki Yume: We wouldn't hate anyone because he's good-looking. That's as bad as liking someone because he's good-looking. And we have nothing against Will Turner (although he really is quite silly, the poor boy). Have we bashed him or anything? Oh dear, we meant to be nicer…
Elenhin: Blow, blow, blown away…
Kasey Rider: Somehow we can't figure out why Galadriel always bullies Anna more. We suspect it's because Anna starts most of the fights, but really we don't know. Galadriel, as we all know, has her own reasons.
We're sure many of you are puzzled why exactly we paired Holly with Sam in the dancing. This was due to a most unfortunate spat between the two of us on Holly's partner – Lydia wanted Artemis, whereas Rukuelle was for Trouble. After a long argument we came eventually to a truce and chose a random hobbit instead. And that is the reason for that queer arrangement.
This is pretty long – thirteen pages – and we hope that keeps you happy through December. We promise to tell you all about New Zealand and the LotR sites, if you like. Merry Christmas in advance, and enjoy our last chapter in a long time.
15. Technology Class and Threats on Paper
Dinner, which consisted of a curious mix of fish, linguine pasta and several unknown herb stews (new experiment of Galadriel's, likely), was filled with a frenzied craze on finishing Javert's lines. Not an easy task, since the old hand-aches were acting up again. The Company of Heroines had long given up on the search for Holly's missing homework – Holly insisted they go take dinner instead – and were halfheartedly doing their own.
Holly poked dully at a suspicious piece of red mush, decided not to take any chances and fished it out with her fork, dumping it on the side of her plate. "Perhaps someone took it."
Éowyn paused at line seven-hundred-and-seventeen to swallow a few mouthfuls of herb stew. "Who would want to take your homework?"
"Someone who didn't want to finish theirs?" suggested Elizabeth.
"There's that," admitted Éowyn.
Holly didn't answer, occupied with trying to keep the linguine from slipping off her fork and splashing in the stew.
Eponine, who had returned from the coffee machine, returned to wolfing down the food. Eponine had no problem with any sort of food, mysterious or not. As she often recounted to the others with relish, she had spent her childhood living off garbage heap raids, so food here was heaven for her. "Message for you, Holly," she called between mouthfuls. "Here." She shoved a piece of torn notepaper at Holly, who took it curiously.
"To Holly Short," she read.
"I am pleased to say that I have in my custody your homework for Javert. As you know, I objected, and still do object, to your dishonourable defeat of me on the first day of school. I cannot abide being defeated by an unfair opponent in battle. So, I give you one chance to admit publicly, to the whole class, that your winning that fight was due to dishonourable cheating. If this is not done before 10.30am by tomorrow, rest assured that I will destroy your homework utterly. Do not think of using this message as evidence against me, as it will self-destruct after you have read it.
Please do consider your options
From
You-know-who"
The Company of Heroines stared in shock at the note in Holly's hands. Holly herself was shaking in barely controlled rage, her knuckles white, fingers digging hard into the paper. There was an angry blush creeping up under her auburn fringe. "How dare he!" she snarled. "Dishonourable cheating…if there's anything dishonourable, it's this!"
Eponine leapt up and cast around frantically, but those familiar blonde braids were nowhere to be seen. "Salaud!" she cried. "Merde! Oh, if only I'd known, I'd have strangled him at the coffee machine……"
"Fiul unui căţea!" swore Anna in her native Romanian tongue. "Laş…He didn't even dare give it to you himself. Oh don't worry, we'll find him and kill him together…"
"Stop, stop," interrupted Éowyn, "we've got to think through this sensibly. He's got Holly's homework, so we've got to tread carefully. Now, the note…"
The words died in her throat as the notepaper suddenly crackled and shrivelled up into a faded pile of ash, which dispersed into the air silently.
"D'Arvit," swore Holly. "Where would he get something like that?"
"I know!" exclaimed Elizabeth suddenly.
The other four turned to her in surprise. Elizabeth's eyes had lit up in memory. "I know who's got notepaper like that – Hermione Granger!"
"Hermione," mused Éowyn. "Ah, yes, she's a witch, she would own that sort of thing. We have Clue One."
Hermione was seated as usual with Harry and Ron, opposite the Short Alliance. Ron was regaling Merry and Pippin with tales of the exploits of his brothers Fred and George. Frodo was admiring Harry's scar, much to the latter's discomfort.
They looked up at the approach of the Company of Heroines. "Oh, hi. Are you looking for something?"
Holly scrambled onto the bench beside Hermione, her face serious. "Did Legolas borrow anything from you today?"
Hermione scrunched up her face in thought. "No…oh, wait, I think he did. It was only a piece of Self-Destruct Notepaper. He didn't even say what he wanted it for."
Éowyn's face was grim. "So that settles it then."
Hermione stared around, puzzled at the looks on their faces. "Settles what? Is…is something wrong?"
They told her.
Hermione drew back in horror when Holly finished her tale. "That's…that's too awful!"
"Sounds like the sort of thing Malfoy would do," commented Ron morosely.
Across the table, Gimli clenched his fork angrily. "That elf deserves what's coming to him."
There was a stony silence. Which was broken, like most silences were, by Pippin's cheerful voice.
"D'you know, I think I saw Legolas with your homework!"
Everyone else was at once alert. Merry shook Pippin drastically. "You did? Where? What's he done with it? Tell us, Pip!"
"If you'll quit shaking me." Merry released him at once. Pippin composed himself and told them. "He was carrying a huge stack of paper to the dormitory, and being very careful about it, 'cos he kept glancing around to see if anyone was looking – of course he didn't see me, Merry, I'm not that stupid – and then he went to the locker by his bed, put the papers in and locked it. I didn't think much of it, y'know, but now I remember…"
"Thank you oh-so-much," replied Elizabeth fervently. "You have no idea how helpful that is."
Pippin beamed. "Always glad to be of use!"
But Holly was frowning again. "Still, how do we get it out? We're not allowed in the boys' dormitory…and even if we were, we couldn't open the locker."
Another stony silence. But this time, it wasn't Pippin who broke it, but Mulch.
"Seems like this time, you need to do some burgling. Some skilful burgling."
Everyone turned to him. "You know someone who can break into Legolas's locker?"
Mulch said nothing, only grinned smugly. Slowly understanding dawned on Holly's face. "You can break into Legolas's locker. You're a burglar."
Mulch nodded superiorly. "Best in the business."
"Professional, no less," muttered Elizabeth. "Oh! So that's where Paris's gold bar w – "
Mulch hurriedly shushed her. "Not so loud!"
"Why? What can Paris do to anyone?"
Mulch shook his head. "Nah, it's not him. But his brother Hector, now that's one to reckon with."
The familiar wicked gleam was back in Holly's eyes. "So…Mulch, is it? Would you do me a favour, then?"
Mulch glanced at her suspiciously. "You mean…with our dear friend Legolas."
"Yes, our dear friend Legolas."
Mulch considered. "What's in it for me?" he asked eventually.
Holly winked at him. "You probably wouldn't like it if someone leaked to Hector where his brother's gold bar went. Or even worse…" she paused for dramatic effect, "…Professor Priam."
Mulch swallowed.
"So…" Holly grinned at him. "How about that?"
Third stony silence. Then Mulch laughed.
"Well, you got me there, Holly." He sighed. "Very well. I'll do it. But willingly, because he offended my pal once." He gestured at Gimli.
"But burgling," interrupted Hermione, "is rather unscrupulous, don't you think?"
Harry sighed. "Hermione, there are times when one has to resort to really drastic measures."
"Okay…" Hermione still looked uncertain, but after that she was inclined to leave them alone.
This suited them perfectly, because they began to plan.
Bedtime came. Bedtime was when The Plan would be carried out.
As a matter of fact, the dormitory layout was perfect for this sort of plan. Mulch's bed was next to Legolas's. The hobbits and Gimli slept directly opposite them. Excellent.
Merry and Pippin were to initiate The Plan. As a matter of fact, they were especially enjoying their role in the whole thing – since it involved hitting Legolas with something.
"You may do the honours, Pip."
"Really? Thanks a bunch."
Legolas, who was reclining on his bed reading an Elvish novel, stiffened as something struck his pointed ear. He glanced down. An innocent paper pellet was lying next to his pillow. He looked up just in time as another one rolled down the middle of his book.
"Oops!" called Pippin. "Sorry about that!" Even as he spoke Merry hurled another paper pellet at Legolas's foot.
Legolas fumed. Swiftly he put down his book, got out of bed and strode towards the two hobbits, who continued pelting pellets at him.
Frodo and Sam had been sitting by Mulch's bed. Now Frodo whispered: "He's gone!" to Mulch, who accordingly dropped the book he had been pretending to read, rolled off the bed, landed silently on the carpeted floor and turned to Legolas's locker.
This was the dangerous part. It was to be hoped Legolas did not get around to beating up Merry and Pippin. Hence, Gimli had been stationed nearby for the purpose of protecting the two hobbits.
"Why you little…" began Legolas. Gimli swiftly stepped in front of him. "Whaddya want?"
Mulch examined the lock. It was a fairly simple combination padlock. He pressed his hairy ear to it as he began to twist the dial.
Frodo and Sam stood blocking Mulch from view and looking innocent – and for Frodo in particular, looking innocent was extremely easy.
"They were throwing paper pellets at me!" exclaimed Legolas.
"We said, it was by accident!"
"Liar. You were doing it on purpose."
"Prove that."
"Yeah, prove that!"
Mulch's ultra-sensitive hearing caught a tiny click. First bolt down. Carefully he twisted the dial the other way.
"Step out of the way, dwarf."
"No."
"I haven't got any time for this."
"I won't step aside."
"Oh, please. Stop defending them."
"You should be ashamed, bullying them. Pick on someone your own size."
Second bolt down. Mulch twisted the dial one last time.
"Hurry up," mouthed Sam. "They won't hold him for long…"
The lock clicked open.
Mulch stifled an exclamation of victory and immediately began his search. It didn't take too long; the stack of paper was right on top. He checked to make sure Holly's name was on them, flipped through to be certain, and then passed them to Frodo. Frodo automatically hid them behind his back and slid out of the door. Mulch locked the locker again and rolled back into bed.
"I suppose you're counted as someone my own size."
"I'm not looking for a fight, elf. Just leave them alone."
"Excuse me? They were annoying me!"
"Were we? We said, it was an accident!"
Outside in the corridor, Eponine and Elizabeth were leaning in the doorway of the girls' dormitory. Frodo trotted up to them, glanced around discreetly, and handed them the stack of paper. Eponine flipped through them to check, ascertained they were genuine, and slipped into the dormitory to return them.
Elizabeth gave Frodo a grateful smile. "Tell your friends we really appreciate this. And that the Short Alliance will henceforth have the friendship and alliance of the Company of Heroines."
"Thanks!" replied Frodo, bowed slightly and scampered back.
Legolas clenched his fist. "Get out of the way, or else."
Merry stuck his head over Gimli's shoulder. "We said we're sorry already! Besides, you don't want another detention, do you?"
Legolas gritted his teeth, breathing hard. Then, to the relief of the three, he shot them a last look of loathing, turned on his heel and stomped back to bed. The Short Alliance held their breath. Would he notice something was amiss?
Legolas climbed back into bed, picked up the Elvish novel and resumed reading.
Merry let out a sigh of relief and leaned over to Pippin conspiratorially. "Mission accomplished."
Holly Short's hands felt like they would drop off. Her eyes were red and ringed from staying up till 3 am last night – no, today morning – to finish her lines with a torchlight under the sheets. Her brain felt like it had been soaked in vinegar. But she was clutching her lines, her precious, completed lines, and she felt saturated with relief.
She and Éowyn climbed the last flight of steps to the staffroom. Éowyn had offered to help the other three girls pass their homework up along with hers and Holly. Now they searched amongst the electronic dashboard for Javert's name. Holly found it and pressed the button.
Immediately a computer screen flicked down in front of them. A conveyor belt appeared, the belt receding into the dark regions of the machine. In crisp tones the computer said: "Please put your homework on the conveyor belt. Indicate your names and year."
Puzzled, they both complied. Éowyn dumped the stack on the conveyor belt while Holly typed in "First-year: Holly Short, Eponine Thénardier, Elizabeth Swann, Anna Valerious, Éowyn daughter of Éomund."
"Thank you," answered the computer mechanically as the conveyor belt cranked into life and began moving the stack of paper into the machine. "Your homework shall be transferred to Inspector Javert's inbox. Have a nice day."
When the homework had completely disappeared into the machine, the computer folded back into the wall, the conveyor belt slid out of sight, and everything looked rather like it had a few minutes ago.
"How queer," remarked Éowyn.
They turned to go, but bumped into someone. Holly stepped back, blinking. She had seen centaurs before, but Éowyn, who had not, was looking suitably taken aback.
"D'Arvit!" yelled the centaur, as he dropped a large cardboard box on one of his hooves. Whatever was in the box clanged and jingled. Still cursing, he bent down to pick up the box and check it for damage. One corner was dented.
"D'Arvit," commented the centaur dryly. Then he seemed to realise that Holly and Éowyn were standing behind him. "Oh, sorry. Am I blocking your way?"
"No," said Holly. "The boxes are, though."
In the meantime while they had been handing up their homework, a large flood of boxes had managed to spread across the corridor in front of the staffroom entrance.
"Oh." The centaur dropped the box he was carrying and surveyed the blockage. "Sorry 'bout that. Been handing up homework, have you?"
Éowyn nodded. "That very strange machine…"
"…was my invention," finished the centaur for her. "Makes handing up homework most convenient, doesn't it? I'm Foaly, by the way. Centaur and unmatched technology genius."
Holly said nothing, fact being that she couldn't think of anything to say that was neither sarcastic nor untrue.
"If you haven't heard of me," went on Foaly, "then you must be first-years. And if you're first-years…then I'm taking your class in ten minutes time." He gazed at the boxes around him with something like despair. "Now…how am I going to get all of this there in ten minutes?"
"We could help," offered Holly.
"Really?" Foaly perked up. "That's very nice of you to offer. Of course, sooner or later you'll be regretting that decision – but since you did offer, I might as well make the best of it. Well, pick up that lot, and off we go to the Technology Lab."
It took them several trips. Holly was beginning to understand what Foaly meant by regretting that decision. "What is in those boxes?" she panted as she set another one down in the Lab. "They're heavy!"
Foaly grinned at her. "You'll see."
By the time they had moved all the boxes, the rest of the class had arrived. Most of them were eyeing the boxes sceptically. Holly and Éowyn dumped their last loads and dragged themselves off to join the class.
Foaly clip-clopped in between the boxes. "Don't mind the boxes – you may go to your seats." They did so, noting that the desks were entirely empty apart from several switches in the centre.
"This is technology class, as you know," went on Foaly. "And I must warn you, the sort of things you will learn in this class are fairly dangerous – so at all times you will pay all attention to me."
Achilles, as most people had come to expect, put up his hand. "Why?"
Foaly glared at him. "Who's the brilliant smart-aleck intellectual know-it-all techie-whiz teacher here?"
"Not you?"
"Oh yes me. So pay attention to every single thing I say, because it might well save your poor ignorant lives." Foaly was clearly annoyed now. "Really, I am an unappreciated genius."
At the back, Mulch tried and failed to stifle a derisive snort.
Foaly glared roughly in his direction, and went on. "But since you are only first-years, and hence probably lack the cranial capacity to appreciate my more complex forms of structured machinery, I will start off with a basic sort of technology." He pressed a button somewhere on his desk, and automatically a single word was projected onto the screen behind him.
COMPUTERS
Artemis seriously wondered whether he should roll his eyes.
"Of course," continued Foaly. "I want you all to truly appreciate the wonderful things about a computer. And the best way for you to learn that is – "
Majority of class decided this was not going to turn out for the best.
" – to construct computers yourselves from scratch."
Majority of class decided they had been right.
Foaly was now positively doing a four-legged jig from sheer delight. "Come on, what're you waiting for? Every desk send one member to collect a box. Hurry up!"
Very soon, each desk of three was crowded miserably round a large box full of metal parts and attempting to make sense of Foaly's instruction sheets. Foaly himself went around giving sagely advice and observing their prowess.
Holly had to admit, this time the Mud Boy was actually quite useful.
"What does that mean?"
"That? It means you connect wires A and M, like that, see. Oh, let me do it. The two of you are too clumsy."
Both of the girls bristled, but kept quiet and let Artemis perform the delicate operation of twisting the wires together. After that, it became a tradition among the three of them to let Artemis do the intellectual work, Éowyn the basic strength-requiring work and Holly the squeezing-into-really-tight-places-to-fix-screws-and-whatnot work. It suited all of them perfectly.
Foaly noticed this harmony of work and approved. He often wished that the other groups would be more sensible and less – well, less stupid.
"What do you think you are doing?"
Legolas jumped, startled. "Oh. Erm, nothing. Just, erm, testing wires."
"Indeed." Foaly eyed the wire that was wound suspiciously tight around Paris's neck, and Paris's blue gasping countenance. Legolas hastily dropped the wire. Paris fell to his knees, clutching his throat and gagging.
"Please make sure the wires are used as stated in the instruction sheets," said Foaly severely, and moved on.
Anna and Van Helsing were at it again.
"Blue wire."
"No, red wire."
"No, blue wire."
"How do you know?"
"Instruction sheet."
"It just says 'Wire', it doesn't say which wire."
"So it goes to say it's the blue wire, then."
"Is not."
"Is."
"Not."
"Is!"
"Not!"
"Erm, people?" queried Carl, somewhat feebly. "I've already fixed the keyboard…it was both wires, you know. When there are, um, like, two holes, you should sort of realise it's, you know, two wires…"
"Stow it, Carl."
Everyone was alarmed by a large electrical explosion at the back of the class. From the looks at it, Captain Jack Sparrow had been at work again.
Will, who was looking distinctly charred, dragged himself upright from where he had been sprawled across the half-finished D-drive. "Jack! Don't tell me you did that on purpose."
Elizabeth scrambled up to a sitting position beside him. She was less charred, partly because Will had thrown out an arm to shield her when the explosion had occur. "What is it with you and flashy explosions, Mister?"
Jack shrugged. He was definitely the worst of the lot. His hair looked positively singed, and his face was entirely covered in the gritty black remains of what had once been rubber insulator and fuse. His grin, however, was not in the least affected. "Sorry, love. Couldn't resist."
After which, his eyes rolled up into his head and he keeled over.
Foaly trotted over distastefully. "Electric shock, and I shouldn't be surprised. What sort of respectable technician does that sort of thing? Hmph."
"Will he be all right?" asked Will tentatively.
Foaly checked. "Probably. For all the flashiness it was only a minor shock. I think we'll just leave him alone."
"But shouldn't he go to the hospital wing?"
Foaly gave Elizabeth a funny look. "No. Obviously, my dear young lady, you haven't been to the hospital wing before, if you can make that sentence so lightly."
Elizabeth stared, but Foaly had already gone off. "What's with the hospital wing?" she whispered.
Will shrugged, and set about dragging Jack's body to a spot on the floor unoccupied by computer parts.
Jack woke up only at the end of class. This, reasoned Elizabeth, was good, because Jack unconscious meant a lot less trouble. And flashy explosions. A good thing.
"Pack up your work in the box," ordered Foaly, waving his hand around his nose – the smell of burnt insulator was certainly a lot more pervading than expected. "You can continue next lesson. Now get yourselves out of here. I have to install a new air freshener."
Jack suddenly bolted upright at the back of the class. "They're comin' up on starboard!" he yelled, greatly startling his two deskmates. "Have at 'em with the cannons, now. Cannons out! Cannons, savvy?"
Will was not in the mood for such ravings. The D drive parts had suddenly begun sparking, and he was trying very harriedly to pick them up without getting electrocuted. "Shut up, Jack."
"Righto, mate," replied Jack, and went back to sleep.
As Legolas put the last part in the box and dropped the whole thing onto Paris's foot just for the sake of it, he glanced surreptitiously towards the small auburn head at the front of the class. So far, Holly had not acceded to his requests.
She had only one hour and a half more to do so.
End of ChapterNext chapter coming…Obstacle Courses and Obnoxious Groupmates