Jodiah

I’m so sick of the unfairness of it all. Why did she have to be the one in the lab when it exploded? I know Mayoneese as well as she did, and she should have known, she taught me. I proved it after, didn’t I? Who else were they going to call on to explain to the government of that scientist when his experiment blew up and killed everyone in the lab, including himself. Including my mother. Jodiah sighed, It should have been me. Why couldn’t it have been me?

Jodiah looked around himself on the transport ship that was taking his family to their new home. His was the only saffron uniform in sight. His mother would have said his saffron stood out like a single ray of sunshine among the storm clouds had she been there. But she wasn’t there, and she never would be again. Jodiah frowned. It wasn’t that he minded traveling to a new place. His education would have demanded that he spend at least one rotation in a foreign court or shipboard as soon as he received the results for his Second Class exams, which should be any day now. But he wasn’t going to be a Linguist any longer, his father had seen to that. He was going to have to learn a techno trade; it was so unfair. Ian got to study what he wanted to, and so did the girls, but not him, at least not now. His hopes and dreams had been dashed to death. Just like his mother. A flash of pain seared his heart. It’d only been three weeks. Only a few people had died in that damned freak lab accident. Why’d she have to be one of them?

After the accident there had not been enough left of their mother for a decent burning, but it wasn’t like his father was going to stick around long enough to hold to the ritual any how. With in hours of the announcement, he had filed the transfer papers and booked their transport on this ship. Three days later they left. Jodiah barely had time to submit the proper paperwork to be allowed to debark the ship with his family, his father was either unaware of all the additional paperwork involved with the transfer of an almost Second Class Linguist or unconcerned since as far as he was concerned Jodiah would no longer be a Linguist. Secretly Jodiah hoped his request would be denied, then he would have a reason to separate from his family, a reason to go back, a reason to defy his father and he could continue his education in the field of his choosing. However, that wasn’t going to happen. Jodiah had been greeted when he arrived on the ship with a message from the office of the Paradine. They welcomed him aboard and approved his request to keep his transfer quiet and allow him unlimited training time. That left him with twelve days to accept that his life would never be the same.

The day before they were to arrive at their destination a mail package arrived for the Dalton family. Benedict opened it; arrangements had been made for their arrival and included were ranking assignments along with proposed class schedules. He handed each of his children their personal assignments and waited for the fall out, as he was certain at least one of them would not be happy with his placement.

Liam and Micah had been placed in general education classes, preparing them for their eventual ascension to Plebe status. Jessica and Erin squealed in delight at their assignments. Jessica had passed her last set of tests and would now be an Apprentice and Erin could finally get rid of her browns for the blacks of a Techno-Plebe. Ian took his assignment as his due, although there were things listed as his duties that he would have to question once he arrived. He knew that while all training schools were required to keep to the same basic standards each had its own quirks. It seemed that this one was no different. He was also quite pleased with his ranking as it meant that he was almost guaranteed a place on the student council if not as Senior Second, then surely as Junior First; unless of course, the other small percentage of students ahead of him held those two positions. Jodiah was the only one who did not open his package immediately. It did not matter to him where they assigned him; it was not where he would want to be.

Jodiah waited until he was alone to read his letter. Silent tears streaked down his cheeks as he read the words: You are welcomed into the Plebe class.

Still deeply saddened by his placement, he joined his family at dinner. It was not unusual for him to eat in silence, as he rarely spoke unless spoken to at meals since his mother died. This had been their time together. Their time to practice whichever language he happened to be studying while the rest of the family yammered on about what ever problem had been presented to their classes that day for dissection. Jodiah knew that Benedict held little interest in his chosen profession and his siblings even less. It wasn’t his fault he was more like his mother than they were, that his brain processed thing differently. He considered it an honor to be like his mother, only now she wasn’t there to act as a buffer between him and them. No one was. He had never felt so alone as he did now.

Eventually his father excused himself and the twins under the guise of getting them down for the night as they had a busy day ahead of them on the morrow and left the elder siblings alone at the table.

“So, Jody, what are you going to be doing?” Jessica asked, trying to pull her odd brother into the conversation.

“Learn to be a techie like you guys I guess.” He responded with little enthusiasm, “It’s not what I would have chosen to do, but what choice do I have?”

“You know, computers have languages too.” Ian offered, “Maybe you can learn those for a while. It’s not the same as the languages you had been learning, but they have some of the same characteristics.”

Jodiah perked up as Ian continued, “Mama helped us sometimes when we were first learning. She said sentence structure is sentence structure no matter the language; you just have to know what goes where. We know you know how to make sentences. Question is can you make them out of numbers as well as out of words.”

“I don’t know, I’ve never tried.”

“Think about it.” Jessica suggested.

Jodiah nodded in agreement. He would consider it. If it was a type of language, he could learn it—that had already been proven.

“Well, how far back did they bump you?” Ian asked.

Jodiah sighed and said, “Plebes.”

“Wow, full re-training?” Ian said in disbelief. He knew that Jodiah would be one of the few people who could give him a proper challenge for a top spot, if he would be given the chance. Now it seems he wouldn’t be, having to start over completely. Ian let out sigh of relief. He did not want Jodiah to be a challenge to him.

“That’s what the paperwork says,” Jodiah replied, “But I think I will challenge at least some of it. I shouldn’t have to retake these classes if I’ve already passed them once.”

“Hey, what’s wrong with being a plebe? I’m a plebe too you know!” Erin complained loudly. She was proud of her new black uniform.

“Yeah, but you should be a plebe.” Jessica told her, “Jody has done his time in blacks, it would be like… well Ian being a plebe again.”

“They couldn’t do that!” Erin gasped. “He’s too old.”

“He’s practically the same rank as Jody.”

Erin wrinkled her face as she thought it through. “Guess it sucks what they are doing huh?”

Jodiah nodded. “I’ll survive it though.”

“Wonder how people around here are going to react to you,” Ian mused aloud. “I mean, with your age and all.” He looked at his younger brother. “I know back on Vespath it wouldn’t have really mattered, but here… who knows how these people feel about re-trainers or cross-trainers.” The girls looked at Jodiah, then at Ian, who finished his thought, “I guess you’ll know tomorrow when you show up, huh?”

“Guess so.”

“Speaking of which, a good night’s sleep wouldn’t hurt any of us.” Ian said.

“I’m not so sure I can sleep right now. So many things are changing,” Jodiah said with a sigh, “I’m a Third Class, that shouldn’t change; I earned it. They can call me a plebe all they want… but I am ranked a Third Class, and they had best be remembering it.” With that, he stood up and left them.

“What do you think he will do?” Jessica asked her siblings when Jodiah was out of earshot.

“I think he will show them what it means to retrain a Third Class,” Ian chuckled.

Jodiah returned to the room he was sharing with Ian and sat on his bunk. Why was it that his life had to be the one turned upside down? He picked up his scrapbook photo box and had it slowly rotate through the images kept there. Most were of his mother and of his best friend, Yule. It had hurt leaving Yule behind. Only his mother knew about his feelings for his friend, only his mother understood him. Who would be his confidant now? He looked over at Ian’s empty bed and shook his head, not Ian. He was too competitive by half and would use any information in his arsenal to get ahead. No, Ian wouldn’t do. Maybe he would meet someone new. Jodiah wiped at the tears again. No, he would not meet anyone new, Ian would see to that too. There were times he hated his brother. This was one of them. Jodiah was certain that Ian would stifle him; it was one of the things his mother always feared — he and Ian fighting. It was one of the reasons that she encouraged Jodiah to enter any field other than Technology. Ian would not tolerate Jodiah being better than himself, and Jodiah wasn’t certain that he could hold himself back enough to let Ian think he was better without totally sabotaging his own career.

The seven remaining Daltons debarked the transport ship carrying their small carry-on bags tossed over their shoulders. The twins wore the brown togs of the unskilled, the girls wore the black uniform of the barely skilled, and then came the three men of the family: one in slate, one in steel, and one – oddly mismatched – in saffron. As a family they were evenly colored as well, dark hair in regulation length for the males and properly restrained for the females, all sporting an olive complexion that attested to some tropical living ancestor in their not too distant past.

Jodiah looked around at his new surroundings and saw how much they were like his old surroundings, yet they were different. The tile was worn along the pathways, yet shone in its polished glory along the edges. The stainless steel walls reflected the dull overhead lights back and across, endlessly down the hall giving just enough reflective light to allow a person to see comfortably. The doors were numbered, each with a placard telling what or who resided inside and at each major intersection, there was a map in the event a weary visitor became lost. But here, everything was gray – metallic, his father would say — the color of geekdom. Jodiah shook his head again to clear out the unwanted thoughts. He wanted to like this place. He would try to like this place… for his family’s sake.

Jodiah wondered inwardly if the people here would accept him. It was perfectly clear that his dreams of following in his mother’s footsteps would not be possible here. Besides, his father had made it very clear that what he wanted was not important. He was going to be retrained and that was that. He wasn’t even allowed to chose Paradine as his new vocation as his father felt it was just as dangerous as being an interpreter, if not more so. Even Ian had pulled him to the side and given him advice: study when you can, what you can; just don’t make waves, and try to get along, to make it easier for the others. He had had to choke back his fury. For the others – what about him? What about his plans? His future? His dreams? His hopes? Who was going to make it easy for him?

Definitely not the Steward, thought Jodiah as he stood outside his office after his interview. They had no program for him. None. They hadn’t even given him a choice between re-training or working for a living in a service capacity. He was going to be re-trained and that was it. Worse, from the looks of the paperwork they had given him, they had busted him. Fury shook through him. How dare they attempt to strip his rank? Were they not aware there was protocol for busting a Third Class? He felt his backbone stiffen in his saffron uniform. The Steward had suggested he make the best of his time here. Jodiah smiled. Oh, he would do just that. Everyone else be damned – no one was going to put him through plebe hell again.

To familiarize himself with his new surroundings, Jodiah randomly wandered the halls, locating the gym, galley, many of the classrooms and most importantly, his bunk. He did notice a few raised eyebrows at his uniform, as everywhere he went all he still saw were shades of gray and brown. It was rather saddening for him, but no one challenged him, nor were they rude, so he took that as a good sign that eventually he would be accepted here.

His bunk, as a remembered, was as a plebe space to be: utilitarian. He had not really expected any different, except that it felt much smaller this time. There was a bed, a desk with a chair, a lamp, some random electronics, a shelf for personal items, a closet, and some drawers for his clothing. He knew he would be expected to wear the uniform, which he would have to get from the Quartermaster. Briefly, he wondered where his belongings were; they should have arrived by now. Once his berthing assignment had been input into the computer, it should have been sent along. He did not really have much, just a few books and some clothing. Nothing more than what was allowed a third class linguist, but it would have been nice to have his things around. He opened the packet to see what the steward had planned for him and read his schedule. Then he read it again.

It did not make sense. These were classes he had four years ago. He had been assigned the basic schedule for a base level plebe as if his other training did not exist. Jodiah sighed. Luckily, he had certified copies of his transcripts with him. He would be able to get this straightened out quickly enough, or his father would. After making sure he had his data drive in his pocket, he made a quick trip down to the head and noticed it was as bad as he recalled. No privacy at all with open shower bays and just partitions between the stalls. Anyone could enter at any time and there was no way to cover your business. Jodiah cringed. This would not do.

Kryst

Senior First Class Kryst Tavyl stood with Senior Second Class Alod Ternec as the new arrivals ambled past, headed toward the Steward’s office.

“Are you sure about this, Kryst?” Alod whispered.

“Gads yes. You saw his test scores.”

“But he’s not…”

“Like us?” Kryst quirked up an eyebrow.

“You know what I mean. He’s not a gray.”

“No, he’s not, but he will be, and before you make Journeyman, I’ll wager.”

“I still think the older one would be better.”

“Too close to Journeyman, the timing has to be right.”

“Promise me you will at least check him out before ruling him unacceptable.”

“I promise.” Kryst whispered as the door opened and his prey exited looking rather upset.

“What do you want to do?”

“Stick to the plan,” Kryst said. “He’ll be easy enough to find in that yellow uniform.” He and Alod then turned around and went back down the hall. Kryst had some decisions to make before they were made for him, and many of them pivoted on the family that just arrived.

Jodiah

It didn’t take Jodiah as long as he thought it would to find the office of the Provost. He opened the outer door and entered the outer waiting room. The secretary looked surprised to see him. “Greetings, I need to speak with the Provost at his earliest connivance,” Jodiah said politely.

“And this matter concerns?”

“My class assignments,” he smiled, “It seems they have placed me in the classes for plebes and I have had the majority of those courses before — passed them, in fact.”

She eyed his saffron uniform with the Third-Class bar. “I’m sorry, we don’t have any programs in your discipline here. You wouldn’t be in re-training, would you?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Re-training requires that you start at the beginning, again.”

“That is why I need to speak to the Provost, ma’am. See, this is not a typical re-training. I am a Linguist, and because you do not offer my discipline here it has been decided I should learn the languages of the computers.”

She laughed. “You think you can speak to computers?”

“Computers speak to each other. Their operators tell them what to say. I think I can learn to do that while I am here. Besides, anything is possible, and only impossible if it is left untried.” He indicated a chair. “I’ll be waiting here, until he can see me.”

“Don’t you have classes to attend?”

“No.” He smiled again and sat down.

He had been waiting a very long time when the door finally opened and a short gray haired man stepped out with a young man who smiled at him before exiting the office. The Provost watched the young man leave, and then sighed before turning his attention toward Jodiah. “So you are the young man who has been waiting most of the afternoon to speak to me. Come along then and have your patience rewarded.”

Jodiah stood up and followed him into the inner office.

“I understand from my secretary that you wish to discuss your class assignments with me?”

“Yes, sir. It seems I have been assigned to take classes I took and passed with honors four years ago. I understand that in a traditional re-training that class assignments are to be retaken, but sir, I do not feel that I fall under the traditional re-training guidelines.”

“And why is that?”

“Well Sir, I did not fail out of my primary training, nor did I request this re-training. My family re-assigned here, and when we arrived, I was informed that there was no training program available for Linguist, of which I am a Third Class. The Steward told me I would be re-trained and that was that.”

“I see,” the Provost touched the screen on his desk and ran his fingers down a list. Third Class Jodiah Dalton had passed his novice interpreters exams at thirteen, his apprentice exams at fourteen and his third class exam a little over year later. He had taken his Second Class exam two weeks ago and had not yet been informed he had passed.

“Well son, it seems you have taken all the general education requirements up through the start of First Class, and passed them all with honors, but your concentrations were, as you said in the field of Linguist, not a tech field.

“Yes, sir.”

“So it seems you need quite a few tech classes to bring you up to Second Class.”

Jodiah nodded.

The Provost tapped the screen a few more times. “How heavy of a course load do you think you can handle?”

“What do you mean, Sir?”

“Well, because you have demonstrated an ability to learn and learn well, I think we can dispense with some of the intro courses and put you directly into some of the more advanced classes. Of course, this will make things a bit more difficult for you. Your aptitude score is sufficient to handle eight classes of medium difficulty or six of advanced difficulty.”

Jodiah nodded again, he had faced this decision before. “Given a choice, Sir, I would choose four medium and four advanced, filling all eight slots.”

“And taking you quicker to the next advancement round,” the man nodded with a grin.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Well, Third Class Dalton, it’s been a pleasure. I will make sure your instructors are aware of your schedule change. You should attend these classes tomorrow. The Quartermaster will be made aware of the changes, and you should have the proper uniforms sometime this week.” The Provost handed him his new schedule and winked. “Until then, feel free to wear the saffron.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Jodiah tucked the page in his pocket, then stood and offered his hand for shaking. “Sir, do you know who I would speak to about a berthing change? It seems I have been berthed with the plebes, and while I don’t mind the sleeping quarters, the showering arrangement is um, uncomfortable.”

“Ah, I can see how that would be at your age, yes. I will see what can be done about that as well.”

Jodiah smiled, obviously relieved. “Thank you, again, Sir,” and he exited the Provost’s office, happy that he had been able to take care of business himself.