This was dissolving.
Torian nodded emphatically. “I’m prepared to do that labor. Our family was in a subsidized apartment—I was only trying to say that passage to Rhymarra is expensive.” When he didn’t interrupt, she leaned forward, desperation seeping into her tone. “I saved through my twenties and onlyjustmanaged to land here. Please, Headmaster Nuun. I strongly believe I can be an asset to Rhymarra.”
“The issue isn’t whether or not you can pass our exams. It’s the fact that you’re seven years late.”
Torian’s heart sank. She felt numb all over, and that insidious voice in her mind whispered,They were right. They wereallright.Humiliation seeped into her heart, clouding her mind. Her carefully crafted argument slipped away, and she fumbled for something rational to say. As long as they were talking, she had a chance.
Even if it felt lower than 11 percent, now.
“Perhaps you can make an exception?”
Headmaster Nuun pushed to his feet, stepping to the windows. Beyond was gorgeous mountain terrain, which sloped downhill into robust farmland. Clouds, bright white in the mid-afternoon light, drifted past. He clasped his hands behind his back.
“Rhymarra’s meritocracy is structured to avoid repeatinghumanity’s past mistakes. We rely on clean energy. Every citizen manages their own farmland. Our careers are designed to both contribute to our current society, and imaginebettersocieties for future generations. Research and development is equally as important as maintaining the status quo.”
Torian stayed silent. She wasn’t sure what he wanted her to say.
He glanced over his shoulder, his gaze hard. “Folks on the colonies had a chance to benefit from this. Centuries ago, we paid astronomical fees to bring students here for testing. Did you know that?”
“No, sir,” she said, heart sinking.
“Well, the result was a financial deficit, and a poisoned population. Our crime rates skyrocketed. The suggestions colony folk brought were centered around materials that are more readily available in space. To find those metals here, we’d be carving into these mountains.” Headmaster Nuun huffed, pushing his spectacles farther up his nose. “What we realized is that there is an inherent cultural difference between Rhymarra and the colonies. Young students—moldable students—are welcome to test. You, Ms. Razner, aretoo old.”
“It’s not for me,” Torian blurted, standing as well. “Please, Headmaster. Engineering might look different here, but my sister is a doctor. Surely the medical industry aligns?”
“Is your sister younger?” He sounded stiff.
Torian was losing this argument. All these years of planning, her choice of study, her sacrifices… and her chance at Rhymarran citizenship was slipping away because she couldn’t convince a stuffy old man she was worth his time.
It was almost too painful to confront… but as long as there was hope, she couldn’t leave.
She clenched her fists. “My sister is two years older than me, and she’s dying on Colony 13. The air is literally killing her.Pleaseread her file.”
Headmaster Nuun pressed his lips together, opening the file on his desk. He didn’t sit down. His eyes glazed over Torian’sinformation, flipping instead to the part on Celise. As he skimmed the words, his frown deepened. “Halyon’s disease.”
“Yes.” Torian barely whispered the word. “You know of it?”
“I know my ancestors warned yours it would happen. I know they waved it off, and implemented outdated life support systems anyway.” Headmaster Nuun closed the file, meeting Torian’s gaze. “I’m sorry, Ms. Razner. Your situation was decided seven years ago, when you didn’t get on a ship to Rhymarra. Back then, we could have made room for you. Now—”
“Icouldn’tget on a ship.” Fury ignited in Torian’s body, making her hot and shaky. How could this man pretend likeshe’dfucked up somehow? How could he look at Celise’s diagnosis, understand the consequences, and sentence her to die anyway?
But Torian had raised her voice—and all amicability was gone.
The headmaster set his jaw. “We have tried to maintain good relations with the colonies, but our population size is carefully monitored to preserve resources. We can only accommodate the best and brightest—”
“Maintaining good relations?” Torian drew a curt breath. “You deposit anyone who fails your exams on the colonies to fend for themselves, and we don’t have the resources to help. Did you even think about what happens to them?”
For a moment, Torian thought she had him. That he’d acknowledge the atrocities of a system where even Rhymarrans who failed the exams were sent off-planet. That he’d agree something needed to change, and sit down to discuss it.
Wishful thinking.
Headmaster Nuun pressed his hands to his desk, his dark eyes glinting. “I took this meeting as a courtesy, but clearly there won’t be an amicable discussion about this. I must ask you to leave.”
Torian pulled out her last card. “I can’t wait to hear the tou’siil’s thoughts after I tell her about this.”
“Nasra is from a planet of highly educated scholars. Her society is what we are trying to emulate.”
“Poorly,” Torian spat.
