This is part 4 of my story! I have everything finished, thanks to a speed-writing session I needed to do to turn it in as a final, but I'm going to use this short story as the basis for my NaNoWriMo novel, so I still need a lot of help planning!
It was clear to Leander that she needed help. Finding a way to get Hero out of Solumnic would be damned near impossible without it – but who could she turn to? It wasn’t exactly like she had many close friends – in fact, she didn’t have any close friends at all. No one that she would normally trust with something like this, at least.
On the other hand, she did know someone who was good at sneaky – very good at sneaky.
Kalliope Halkias had earned her position as a teacher’s pet for acting like a perfect student, but in reality, she was probably one of the worst students on campus, behavior-wise. Sneaking out and breaking rules (and laws) was what she excelled at. It was how she came to know so much information before anyone else did – such as, Leander thought bitterly, the rumor that Journalism was going to be shut down. If there was anyone Leander could turn to in a time like this, it was Kalliope.
This was where Leander was headed now, striding across the virtually empty campus at five in the morning – Leander had taken care to press her alarm early, to avoid being, once again, the last person to do so. Towering grey buildings housing every student that attended Athena College circled the park she was striding across as she made her way to Kalliope’s dorm, section E7, from her dorm in E1.
Inside the building, virtually every light was turned off, with the exception of a lone security light on the wall opposite the wall-climbers. Leander stepped on the wall-climber farthest from the light, and tapped on the bright number ‘13’ that appeared on a hologram grid in front of her. It began zooming through the shaft, which had been decorated with lively graffiti by thousands of passing students over the years. Leander tried hard to look straight down at her feet – despite the common belief that wall-climbers were the perfect method of passing from floor to floor, designed to never cause any sort of motion-sickness, Leander found that the fast rise always left her feeling distinctly nauseous.
With a jolt, the wall-climber stopped at the thirteenth floor, and Leander stepped off it quickly, barely pausing before racing down the hallway, turning a left, and coming to Kalliope’s room.
She knocked on the door quietly, pressing her face against it. “Kalliope?” she whispered. “Open up, quick. I know you’re awake, Kalliope. Come on – ”
The door opened, and Leander nearly crashed face-first into the taller student. “What do you want?” Kalliope whispered to her, face dim with sleep. She stifled a yawn, stepping back to allow Leander to enter before closing the door quickly. “I swear, Leander, you have no consideration for – for – anyone else’s – ” she couldn’t finish the sentence, unable to repress another yawn.
Leander righted herself and turned to Kalliope, switching the light on. “I hate waking you up like this,” she said (“Bullshit,” Kalliope coughed quietly), “but I need help. Serious help.”
Kalliope eyed her warily, turning her lamp on to the dimmest setting. “What kind of help?” she muttered, sitting back down on her bed, the covers thrown messily on the floor.
“The kind of help that involves sneaking around.”
Suddenly, Kalliope’s expression brightened up considerably. “Sneaking around?” she whispered quietly. “Why, Leander, I never would have expected that of you. If it’s that kind of help you need, then I have no problem providing it. Just tell me what you’ve got to do.”
There were seven days until May 7.
*****
It was a distinctly familiar scene: Leander sat in front of the computer, skin washed out from the glow of her laptop. She was staring at an open document template that was blank, blank, blank, and though she wracked her head, there was nothing she could think about that was news-worthy enough to earn her a passing grade for her Final. Iris’s article was about the new additions, but it killed her to use something so obvious – she had become well-known in the class for writing unique articles about things otherwise overlooked by other journalists. If Iris was writing about something as obvious as the new additions to the museum, she certainly couldn’t write about that.
But the problem was she had come out of the museum with nothing. No notes, and no ideas, considering her mind had been full of Hero for the entire trip.
I need another visit to that museum, she realized, feeling resigned. Maybe tomorrow. Leander looked at the computer screen sadly, feeling the time pressing down on her. The due date was fast approaching – and so is Hero’s day, Leander realized with a shiver – and she had nothing to turn in. Sighing, Leander shut off the computer, pushing it to the side. She crawled into bed, pulling the covers over her head quickly.
There were six days until May 7.
*****
The next day, however, Leander did not visit the museum – nor did she the day after. She did, however, spend a full day in the library, searching for ideas on learning how to navigate the waters in an old, rickety boat. Leander had not forgotten Hero’s instructions, though she hadn’t been able to go back – the next time she typed the link into the computer, she found that it had been erased, leaving a single message: get to planning. Which, Leander had thought to herself bitterly, meant that Hero had acknowledged that Leander obtained the instructions, and didn’t think to give her any more help, such as when the damn test would be.
Regardless of the lack of information she had, Leander sat diligently in the hard library chair, downloading tablet after tablet of books to read on the library reader she had borrowed.
‘The older boats of the 21st and 22nd century had yet to employ AutoMIND technology and were therefore difficult to use. Only a few select people, called ‘sailors’, knew how to navigate them. When AutoMIND came into common use, however, these sailors became obsolete…’
Useless. Next.
‘The life of a sailor was long and hard. They stayed on the boats for extended periods of time, bound by their jobs to work a large portion of the year in the open sea. They would spend up to seven hours a day navigating boats, which was learned through several years of schooling, due to the lack of AutoMIND at the time…’
Seriously? AutoMIND talk again? Leander thought, frustrated.
‘Navigating a ship took considerable skill. However, these boats were sturdier and longer-lasting then the boats of today. There are an estimated 400-500 of these boats still in existence today. It is likely that the reader has come upon one of these - in which case, the following information will be well-known to them.’
Leander perked up, paying more attention to the text.
‘To navigate a boat, one must have a generally clear view of the waters. The controls, though varied throughout the ship, are usually clearly labeled, starting with the obvious key…’
This was jackpot. Leander eyed the people around her, checking to make sure she wasn’t watched, and pulled out a recorder from her messenger bag. Normally reserved for taking notes for articles, it was going to be her lifeline when she navigated the boat – which, unfortunately for her, Hero expected her to drive. Which meant Hero expected her to leave Solumnic with her, the little selfish bastard. Leander frowned. It’d be difficult to try to sneak back into Solumnic with the boat, but if the rebel island or whatever it was Hero wanted was close enough, she could probably come back that night and no one would be any the wiser.
There were four days until May 7.
*****
It was twilight now – exactly when Hero had told her to find the boat.
Leander huddled behind a trashcan in the port, looking around. She was pressed up against a gate shielded with large bushes on one side, the trashcan on the other, and looking around, almost paranoid, to make sure that there was no one around her. When she reassured herself that the coast was clear, Leander got up gingerly, sprinting bent over on the wet floor towards the boat farthest from the entrance, where boats which had docked for extended periods of time floated gently.
She scanned the names as she passed, noting that virtually every boat she passed was 23rd century style – namely, that it used AutoMIND, stated clearly on the side under the name.
Leander stopped. There it was. The Loretta floated weakly in the corner, the lone boat without an AutoMIND sticker under the boldly placed title. Leander approached it gingerly, locating the door and pulling on it gently. It swung open, and she clambered in quickly, shutting the door behind her.
Inside, everything was made of wood. Ugh, Leander thought, way to kill trees, guys, she thought to herself, running a hand over the smooth wood with disdain. The cushions were a creamy leather, and the wheel looked polished – but everything was covered in a fine layer of dust. This boat had been here for an extended period of time.
The chrome chair sat in the corner, looking even older than the boat. Leander approached it quickly, looking underneath. There wasn’t a key there. “Hn,” she grunted, running a hand over the seat. “Maybe a – ” Yes – there was a latch just underneath. Leander opened it, and the seat fell back, revealing a single silver, old-fashioned key. She picked it up delicately, running her fingers along the ridges. It was thin, with one end flattened out and square-shaped, presumably to hold. The other end was had a set of ridges, with a groove running on one side.
Leander tucked the key into her shirt pocket, looking around warily one last time. She memorized the boat’s layout, noting the controls sitting in the side opposite of the port. Time to get out, idiot, don’t you get yourself in trouble again.
She’d learned her lesson on exploring too much. It was time to go.
There were three days until May 7.
*****
Just spit out a story, Leander told herself, once again sitting in front of the laptop anxiously, trying to think of a story. Don’t bother to be creative, write anything, dammit. Who cares about a legacy? You wanna fail the class?
She couldn’t bring herself to do it. There’s still time, she thought to herself, shutting down her laptop again. Still time to come up with something. Think hard tomorrow. Think really hard.
Leander went to bed with a sinking feeling in her stomach.
There were two days until May 7.
*****
One day left, and Leander needed a simple disguise.
On her bed, the items Kalliope had lent her were scattered around. A blonde wig, left over from Kalliope’s days of sneaking into bars as a bartender. A long dress, patterned gingham. Stockings, white. Hero would look less than modern, but she wouldn’t stand out as anything but a rather old-fashioned human. Leander shoved everything into her messenger bag, its original contents shoved under her bed. She bit her lip anxiously.
The story was haunting the back of her mind, and she almost knocked a water bottle lying on her bedside over three times from fear. It was starting to look as though she’d either have to swallow her pride and write a basic, straight-reporting article – thereby ruining her legacy and possibly going into the Journalism world with a bad name – or go in empty-handed (if, she realized, she’d have time to go in at all), and fail the course, and be forced to take the class for another year. She wouldn’t graduate, but the alternative would certainly piss off her teacher, who might not recommend her for any jobs.
And then there was the everpresent problem of her not knowing when she’d turn in the damned article – Hero still hadn’t contacted her with a time. Her best attempt – and riskiest plan – would be to go to class, leave early, and hope that Hero’s test wasn’t planned late, or else the blasted android would let slip that she’d violated the restriction-zone ordinance, and caught sight of the damned android, which would land her in prison for life, at best.
She put the last piece of clothing in the bag – a pair of shoes, black, size 13cm – and flipped it closed. There. Tomorrow was another day, and she was close to doomed.
There was one day until May 7.
I did feel that I did more 'tell not show' in this part, so my mistake :<
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