“Always.” Nasra clasped Torian’s hands. Her fingers were long and vaguely slick. “I’ll find you tonight! Everyone says hi!”
“Everyone” was the entire tou’siil homeworld.
Torian offered a nervous wave. “Ah, okay. Looking forward to it.” Assuming they’d let her dock here that long. But… one day, right? Maybe she could manage it.
Dinner with a tou’siil. What a dream, she thought, starstruck.
Nasra waved and strolled down the hallway, her long tail swishing beneath the human skirt. The moment she was a few steps away, she began talking to herself again, chatting with the hive as she turned the corner and vanished from sight.
Okay. Don’t get distracted.
Setting her jaw and preparing to fight for two lives, Torian stepped into the headmaster’s office.
CHAPTER 13
The headmaster’s office was both nothing like she expected—and everything like she imagined. On Colony 13, her professors’ offices were small, with metal walls, metal desks, metal chairs. Sometimes they hung pictures, but usually they just made do with one or two fake plants and maybe a coffee machine.
This office was a stark contrast. A hearth—arealfireplace—had been centered on the left wall, its flame flickering merrily. Two huge windows framed a huge wooden desk, offering stunning views of the mountain scenery. Bookshelves lined the remaining walls, stacked with real leatherbound tomes. Interspersed on various stands were animal skeletons, holograms of windmills and solar panels, examples of early Rhymarran architecture.
Torian could spend all day in this office and never get bored.
Unfortunately, now wasn’t the time for that. She closed the double doors behind her. Silence filled her wake, and the headmaster took a seat behind the wide, meticulously organized desk. Whatever polite, amused exterior he’d offered Nasra dropped the moment he faced another human.
It reminded her that they weren’t colleagues, no matter her lie to the space traffic controller, no matter how Nasra the tou’siil acted. Torian was an outsider—and she wasn’t welcome.
She offered a forced smile, but didn’t speak.
“Apologies for that,” Headmaster Nuun said, scrubbing his face with a hand. “Nasra is a student here, but obviously I take special interest in a tou’siil studying human culture. We’d like ourbest foot forward with the CSS, given our tumultuous history. Still, she can be… overbearing.”
“She seemed like she was having fun,” Torian replied neutrally, taking a seat across from the headmaster. The chair was padded, covered in velvet, and she ran a hand over the soft fibers. Evenfurniturehere was luxurious.
Headmaster Nuun rolled his eyes. “The representative of a species whose entire belief system stems around knowledge, stepping into a foreign university? Of course she’s having fun.” He steepled his fingers, looking over them. “Now. I wasn’t aware we were getting a visitor from the colonies today.”
Torian straightened in her seat. This was it. She unclipped the bag from her shoulder, digging into it for the files she’d been meticulously organizing for years. They were in a thin metal folder, the papers carefully pressed. The print charges alone had been ludicrous, but she wanted to offer information in the best format for a Rhymarran representative.
Now, she slid the file across his desk.
“My name is Torian Razner. I’m currently a citizen of Colony 13.” She drew a slow breath, fortifying her nerves. “And I would like to take the entrance exams for Rhymarran citizenship.”
The headmaster’s stare was unnerving.
“You’re here… to test.” He didn’t open the file.
Torian set her jaw, nodding. “Yes, sir.”
Confusion filtered into his voice. “I’m sorry, how old are you?”
“Twenty-seven,” Torian replied.
“Most of our testing candidates are eighteen. At the oldest, twenty.” Headmaster Nuun leaned back in his chair, his brow furrowing. “By twenty-seven, our citizens are established in their careers and finishing apprenticeships. You’re very far behind.”
Torian lifted her chin. “I’ve been studying on my own. Solar engineering, dabbling in electrical and systems work. And I’m a pilot. I own an alien starship with advanced technology. Surely there’s somewhere in Rhymarran society where I could contribute.”
“You had an open invitation to test at eighteen. Why didn’t you arrive then?”
That made Torian’s chest tighten in frustration. She fought to keep her voice steady. “Headmaster Nuun, the colonies are in a rough state. Most citizens there are pushed into laborious jobs with low pay. Many can’t afford food, much less pay for their teenager to fly to Rhymarra.”
“Careers on Rhymarra are also laborious. Our windmills are five hundred feet tall. Our farms must be constantly maintained.” Headmaster Nuun’s expression closed off, his eyes narrowing behind those square lenses.
