on.”
Emmie and Kaal waited outside the door while Hispus gave John a short lecture on being properly prepared, as well as a long list of reading that he should complete before the next class. They looked at him pityingly as he came out a few minutes later, shaking his head. “I didn’t understand a single word,” he said glumly. “Talliver’s right: I’m pathetic.”
“Hey, it’s only your first day. You’ll catch up,” Kaal said cheerfully.
“And it’s lunch now,” added Emmie. “At least you can take a break.”
Lunch, however, was even more depressing. The first-year canteen was full of students noisily greeting each other after the holidays. John had to shout to make himself heard over the din. When he took a seat next to Kaal, a compartment slid from the table, serving a plate of foul-smelling purple cubes and a bowl of what looked like frogspawn. Rolling his eyes, John poked at the mess with the metal spike that was by his plate.
“Looks Martian to me!” shouted Kaal, peering over his shoulder. “The computer must still think you’re Prince Clo-Ra-Ta. On the plus side, Martian food’s supposed to be very good for you.”
“If you can keep it down,” mumbled John, spearing a purple cube and nibbling it cautiously. It tasted worse than it smelled. Determined to try and cheer up, he put it back in the bowl and yelled, “So what lesson am I going to be awful at next?”
“Plutonian martial arts,” replied Kaal, his mouth full of what looked like stew made from peeled worms. He winked. “I’ll be gentle with you.”
* * *
Two hours later, John staggered out of the padded gym, clutching his ribs. “I’m really, really sorry,” said Kaal behind him. “Got a bit carried away there. Don’t know my own strength.”
“It’s all right,” panted John. “I don’t mind being thrown clear across the room.” He paused, then added, “Seven times. I am so going to make you pay for that next time.”
Kaal’s teeth glinted. “It was fun, though, right?” he grinned, slapping John on the shoulder.
“Owww!” John yelped. “Don’t touch me. I’m one big bruise.”
After a lesson in early galactic history, which again left John with a long reading list and an aching head, the school day was finally over. Wearily, he dragged his stiff, hungry body down to the canteen to goggle with horrified disbelief when the table opened to reaveal exactly the same food he’d been given for lunch. Hoping it wasn’t poisonous, he tried the frogspawn this time, quickly spitting it back into the bowl.
“Yuck,” said Emmie Tarz, leaning across the table and wrinkling her nose at his meal. “You should talk to the computer about your food.”
“I’ll probably be dead from starvation by breakfast,” John grumbled in reply.
“I’ve got roasted falabird with skits and charn salad,” she replied. “It’s too much for me. Want to try some?”
John leaned over. The food on Emmie’s plate smelled better than his own and looked a little like roast turkey with beans the size of his thumb, and orange leaves. “If you’re sure you’ve got enough,” he gulped. “I don’t want you to go hungry, too.”
“Help yourself,” she said, smiling.
John spiked some of the falabird and put it in his mouth nervously. The meat was bitter, a long way from delicious, but far better than the Martian gloop in front of him. He swallowed and tried a skit. The large bean tasted like pasta. “Mmmm, thanks,” he said, chewing hungrily. “These aren’t too bad.”
“Do you want to try some of mine?” offered Kaal, who was crunching through a portion of what looked like stir-fried worms.
John quickly shook his head. Derrilian food looks even worse than Martian food, if that’s possible , John thought.
Pushing his tray away, Kaal sighed. “I’ve got that detention now,” he said. “Better go, I don’t want to upset the Examiners again. Can you find your own way back to the dormitory, John? Or you
Emmie and Kaal waited outside the door while Hispus gave John a short lecture on being properly prepared, as well as a long list of reading that he should complete before the next class. They looked at him pityingly as he came out a few minutes later, shaking his head. “I didn’t understand a single word,” he said glumly. “Talliver’s right: I’m pathetic.”
“Hey, it’s only your first day. You’ll catch up,” Kaal said cheerfully.
“And it’s lunch now,” added Emmie. “At least you can take a break.”
Lunch, however, was even more depressing. The first-year canteen was full of students noisily greeting each other after the holidays. John had to shout to make himself heard over the din. When he took a seat next to Kaal, a compartment slid from the table, serving a plate of foul-smelling purple cubes and a bowl of what looked like frogspawn. Rolling his eyes, John poked at the mess with the metal spike that was by his plate.
“Looks Martian to me!” shouted Kaal, peering over his shoulder. “The computer must still think you’re Prince Clo-Ra-Ta. On the plus side, Martian food’s supposed to be very good for you.”
“If you can keep it down,” mumbled John, spearing a purple cube and nibbling it cautiously. It tasted worse than it smelled. Determined to try and cheer up, he put it back in the bowl and yelled, “So what lesson am I going to be awful at next?”
“Plutonian martial arts,” replied Kaal, his mouth full of what looked like stew made from peeled worms. He winked. “I’ll be gentle with you.”
* * *
Two hours later, John staggered out of the padded gym, clutching his ribs. “I’m really, really sorry,” said Kaal behind him. “Got a bit carried away there. Don’t know my own strength.”
“It’s all right,” panted John. “I don’t mind being thrown clear across the room.” He paused, then added, “Seven times. I am so going to make you pay for that next time.”
Kaal’s teeth glinted. “It was fun, though, right?” he grinned, slapping John on the shoulder.
“Owww!” John yelped. “Don’t touch me. I’m one big bruise.”
After a lesson in early galactic history, which again left John with a long reading list and an aching head, the school day was finally over. Wearily, he dragged his stiff, hungry body down to the canteen to goggle with horrified disbelief when the table opened to reaveal exactly the same food he’d been given for lunch. Hoping it wasn’t poisonous, he tried the frogspawn this time, quickly spitting it back into the bowl.
“Yuck,” said Emmie Tarz, leaning across the table and wrinkling her nose at his meal. “You should talk to the computer about your food.”
“I’ll probably be dead from starvation by breakfast,” John grumbled in reply.
“I’ve got roasted falabird with skits and charn salad,” she replied. “It’s too much for me. Want to try some?”
John leaned over. The food on Emmie’s plate smelled better than his own and looked a little like roast turkey with beans the size of his thumb, and orange leaves. “If you’re sure you’ve got enough,” he gulped. “I don’t want you to go hungry, too.”
“Help yourself,” she said, smiling.
John spiked some of the falabird and put it in his mouth nervously. The meat was bitter, a long way from delicious, but far better than the Martian gloop in front of him. He swallowed and tried a skit. The large bean tasted like pasta. “Mmmm, thanks,” he said, chewing hungrily. “These aren’t too bad.”
“Do you want to try some of mine?” offered Kaal, who was crunching through a portion of what looked like stir-fried worms.
John quickly shook his head. Derrilian food looks even worse than Martian food, if that’s possible , John thought.
Pushing his tray away, Kaal sighed. “I’ve got that detention now,” he said. “Better go, I don’t want to upset the Examiners again. Can you find your own way back to the dormitory, John? Or you
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