Gordanus shook his head as the line inched forward.
“Rufius, just once I’d love to hear that it was a girl.” He gave Alexandros a half smile. “But you know you’re going to have to toe the line and give the teachers what they want. They don’t like being shown up in front of the class, much less by you, given your… history.”
Gordanus had known about Alexandros’s background ever since they had been bunkmates back on that first, terrifying night of academia. Alexandros remembered how concerned he had been that his ancestry would have lost him his best chance at making a friend. But Gordanus had shrugged and moved on. The pair was unlikely; Alexandros, skinny with a mop of blond hair over his pale face, and Gordanus, his body short and squat-framed with muscles and jet-black hair. If they hadn’t looked so dissimilar, people might have thought them brothers from their interactions.
Alexandros finally moved to the head of the line, and Morentis searched through his files before selecting a paper to hand to him.
“Next time, don’t assume you’ll have legionnaires on your airship. They’re much too cumbersome to use on such lightweight crafts,” he commented.
Passing, excellent! Alexandros gave an inner cry of joy as he stepped out of the room, turning to wait for Gordanus. He shielded his eyes as he stepped into the harsh sunlight, the glare blinding him for a moment. Tucking his paper into his bag, Alexandros looked around at the milling sea of cadets as they bustled to and fro along the pathways. Eyeing the time on the large clock tower, Alexandros nervously tapped his foot until Gordanus finally exited the classroom.
“What took you so long?”
“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” Gordanus sounded downtrodden, but Alexandros knew better than to push him. If he wanted to talk about it, he would. Otherwise, that was that.
They made their way toward their next class in silence. Alexandros made a half-dozen false starts in an effort to strike up a conversation, but it was no use; Gordanus was lost in his own world for the foreseeable future.
Sighing, Alexandros’s spirits quickly lifted when they arrived at their next class. Introduction to Flight covered all the basics of lighter than air travel-lift, resistance, airflow, drag, gravity-that gave the cadets the knowledge and background in everything they would need to pilot any type of airship. It was Alexandros’s favorite class, and one in which he eagerly soaked up every bit of knowledge proffered by their elderly instructor. Normally held in a stuffy, second-floor room, today the class was making use of the small, open-air theater in the plaza outside.
Professor Ikalrus was wizened, gray-haired, and as tough as a steel sword blade. The man’s whipcord muscles belied years of teaching cadets how to design, assemble, study, and fly the different airships that served in the Imperial Air Fleet. He stood on a low deck in front of a draped object, facing out toward several rows of students. Many unconsciously leaned forward, as if willing the old man to reveal the object behind him.
“I bet it’s first flight day,” Gordanus whispered as they took their seats in the last row of the small theater.
Alexandros murmured his agreement as Ikalrus motioned for them to quiet down. When the excited conversation subsided, Ikalrus gave a wide smile and spoke.
“Welcome, welcome cadets. As many of you may have guessed, today is indeed Primitus Fuga, your first flying opportunity. Behind me will be your first skimmer practice session. If you remember all the training that I have imparted upon you, then you will most likely pass. Of course,” he paused, looking around at the excited faces, “some of you will not. That is simply the way of the world.”
He motioned to his aides, who pulled the large tarp off the assembly. The canvas ruffled and came off in a flourish, revealing a small flying machine that more closely resembled some type of flying insect. The cylindrical central body of the skimmer was made of wood to save on weight. The front end tapered to a needle-sharp point encased in a thin sheathe of copper, which provided the recon vessel’s “sting.” The back end flared out to a rudder and ailerons, which the pilot controlled as he lay head first in the narrow body. Above the vessel, the small power plan fed two barrel-like tubes that encased the propellers on either side of the body. Overall, it looked as though a cigar had been squished between two drums and given the power to fly.
But to Alexandros, the ship’s awkward design did nothing to forestall his heart from leaping into his chest. This was the moment he had been waiting for.
“We’ll start today by attaching your skimmer to these four pulleys controlled by your classmates. With the engines on minimum, you will learn how to hover in place and deal with the movements of your ship. Each classmate will have control of a rope attached to one part of it. They will alternatively pull or loosen depending on my orders, and you will have to adapt immediately. In the past, failure to regain control quickly has led to injuries, death, or worse, such as failing out of the academia. Do not go easy on your classmates, for I am observing your work at each pulley. Everyone will get a turn at both positions. We’ll be going in alphabetical order.”
The professor turned and hobbled off the stage while his aide stepped forward.
“Alexandros, Rufius!”
Oh gods.
Alexandros quailed for a moment at hearing his name. His excitement warred with the sudden attack of nerves that threatened to overwhelm his system. Gordanus patted him on the back.
“What are you waiting for?” he hissed at his best friend. “Get up or they’ll think you’re not going to do it.” Alexandros got to his feet, his heart thudding in his chest. He could feel the adrenaline surging to every part of his body. The aide called several other names while Alexandros made his way to the platform.
While the other boys were given heavy gloves and positioned at each rope pulley around the skimmer, Alexandros was fitted with a thick, wool-lined leather flying cap and a pair of tinted goggles that fit him snuggly. He fiddled with them, adjusting the tightness on his neck and nose. A pair of leather gloves was handed to him as well, thinner than the other boys’. Already stifling in the afternoon sun, Alexandros finally spoke up.
“Why do I need those?”
“They’ll keep your hands from slipping. You wouldn’t want to lose your grip,” the aide, a senior cadet, informed him curtly. “Remember, he’s looking for the ailerons and rudder to move opposite of what the vessel is doing. If you’re tilting left, he wants you to pull the skimmer starboard. Got it?”
“Oh.” Then belatedly realizing it was a question, he responded, “Yes.”
He pulled the gloves on and was helped into the cockpit, repeating the advice of the aide in his head again and again. The skimmer was missing the glass canopy that would be slid up and over the recumbent pilot during an actual flight. He nestled his feet against the two rudder pedals and grasped the altitude joystick with his right hand. He checked all his controls as taught to do in the previous classroom sessions, which made little sense now as the vessel was inactive, but the habit came naturally to him.
“Cadet Alexandros, are you prepared?” came the call from Professor Ikalrus.
“Yes, sir!”
“Very well.” A few moments went by, then the room filled with the sound of a generator starting up. The generator’s initial squeal calmed to a steady purr after a few moments. Alexandros could almost imagine the power now being fed to the controls as he waited, tense and alert, for the test to begin.
With a nauseating lurch, his classmates yanked the ship upwards, the weight of the vessel supported by the pulley system. Abruptly, the skimmer jerked right, and Alexandros panicked for a half-second before he remembered his training. He pushed back on his left foot, and the skimmer righted itself.