******************************
– Chapter 5 –
To Mervyn’s delight apartment twenty-five was adjacent to the Stardome. The friends crowded through the apartment door. It looked far better than Mervyn had imagined from Tarun’s description.
They stood in a curved multi-purpose common room into which four study bedrooms connected; a sunken seating area, shaped to match the sweep of the living space, dominated the centre of the room, work tables lined one end, and three magnificent views of the planet Ethrigia and her moons filled the opposite wall; a small kitchenette, which looked as if it could be shut away, was set into a side wall; all in white, titanium, and gleaming iridium; it smelled seductively of polish.
‘Mmmmm,’ Mervyn inhaled. ‘What’s so wrong with this apartment, it looks fantastic?’
‘Other than tiny, we’re tucked away at the back of the ship away from all the other syndicates,’ Tarun said, a sour look on his face.
‘Sounds like an advantage to me,’ Loren commented striding to the admire the view of Ethrigia.
‘And it’s the only one without windows so you have to choose which monotonous views you want to see.’
‘You mean these are view-screens?’ Loren asked. ‘Fantastic! I can do something with these.’ In no time at all she had her head inside a maintenance hatch below the central screen – her holdall abandoned on the floor beside her.
‘Oh, no,’ Tarun sighed spotting a stack of shiny red trunks, next to his tatty vacuum case, by the entrance. ‘Why me? Why is it always me?’
Mervyn glanced at him sidelong, ‘What’s wrong now?’
Tarun pointed to gleaming locks on the stack of trunks, ‘Don’t you recognise the crest?’ Crests weren’t something to which Mervyn paid much attention. He looked but the crest meant nothing to him. He supposed, with all hierarchy the aristocratic families on Ethrigian crest could hold a lot more significance for Tarun. Maybe this was something else he would have to learn.
At Mervyn’s blank look Tarun explained ‘It’s the Agleo coat of arms, the Patriarch’s crest,’ he signed at Mervyn’s continued blank look, ‘his niece, Aurora, is our fourth syndicate member. We’re doomed.’
‘Oh Muon’s.’
‘Ow,’ Loren cracked her head as she hurriedly extracted herself from the maintenance hatch, ‘The Patriarch’s niece, in our syndicate? You’re joking aren’t? you’ At the sight of Tarun’s shaking head she pulled herself back into the machine, muffling her voice, ‘Well, she’d better work hard.’
‘Lucky for us she’s travelling light today only six trunks,’ Tarun muttered and slunk off to deposit his things in one of the study-bedrooms.
‘I’m sure she’ll be fine,’ Mervyn called, though, he doubted it. But today nothing could dampen his spirits, he had made it to the Space Academy – he had fulfilled the first, and for him, the most difficult part of his dream He leaping into the sunken seating area and stretched himself out. ‘Wow, leather too.’ From now on it was just a matter of hard work.
After a moment he jumped up and raced into one of the four study bedrooms. ‘Bags I have this room, it’s got its own bathroom and everything.’ The room looked clean and simple. Besides the bathroom, which consisted of a sonic shower, a concealed multi-being toilet, which slid out into the shower area then retracted after use, and a concealed basin, it had a bed, a built-in wardrobe, and a study area. Most luxurious of all, it had roof space. Wondrously, Mervyn reached up with his hand and failed to touch the ceiling – never in his entire life had he seen a bedroom with such high ceilings, what a criminal waste of space.
At home, on the asteroid world of Starlight, living space was always at a premium. His room had comprised of little more than a cubby hole large enough for a bed. Here he had not only a bed, but his own wardrobe and a desk, and for the first time in his life, a private bathroom.
Quickly, Mervyn unpacked and stuffed everything into the wardrobe. His single spare uniform hung on its solitary hanger, emphasising the poorness of its owner, and waiting limply for night when it’s twin would join it. like.
Tarun may think their apartment tiny by Ethrigian standards, but compared to what Mervyn had experienced on Starlight it was a palace.
He looked at the blank info-screen in his room, then on impulse he called up an image of the Jensis Sledding team – winners of last year’s Galactic championships. He and Loren were big Jensis fans, in fact they were big fans of anything to do with sledding; Mervyn’s dream was to win the Galactic Championships, an ambition towards which the Space Academy was an important stepping- stone.
The room was beginning to feel a bit more like home. He would find some large info sheets later and load in more sledding images, then stick them round the room.
A sudden shriek brought his attention back to the present. He rushed into the common room to find Aurora standing indignantly beside her luggage.
‘Look what they’ve done to my luggage! They’ve ruined it!’ Tarun had also come running. They stared at the neat stack of pristine trunks.
‘Bumbling buffoons,’ Aurora declared, sticking her nose in the air. ‘They couldn’t even put them in my room.’
Mervyn held out his hand, ‘Hi, I’m ...’
‘This room is mine,’ Aurora called, ignoring Mervyn and striding into the study-bedroom recently claimed by Tarun.
‘Tarun, I have found your stuff. The servants have left it in my room by mistake. Come and remove it at once! And when you’ve done that bring my luggage into this room.’ Mervyn stared in astonishment. Tarun just sighed, deeply, and went to retrieve his ‘stuff’.
‘Don’t bother to unpack,’ Aurora called, ‘I will be moving out soon.
‘You’re not staying?’ Tarun asked.
‘I am not spending even a single day with Outworld low-lifes,’ Aurora replied, ‘what do you think that would do to my reputation?’
‘They could be your friends, your Grace, they are good people.’
‘I don’t do friends,’ Aurora said coldly. ‘I am the niece of the Patriarch that is what I am, that is who I am, that is what I do. I don’t need friends I don’t want friends.’
Loren’s snort echoed from the guts of the viewscreens, ‘She’d better not treat me like that – I’m not even one of her uncle’s subjects.’
‘Poor Tarun,’ Mervyn thought, chuckling to himself and retreating towards his room, which seemed the safest place for the moment. Being called an Outworlder was bad enough, but a low life Outworlder was beyond bearing.
Suddenly, Aurora appeared in the doorway of her room, looking haughty, but strikingly handsome.
‘You,’ she cried, striding over to Loren’s sprawled form, head still hidden inside the service hatch of the viewscreens.
This is going to be good, Mervyn thought, peering out from his room. He made no attempt to intervene, knowing Loren could look after herself.
‘Hey. You,’ Aurora kicked the souls of Loren’s boots.
Loren slowly slid out from the guts of the machine, but made no attempt to rise from the floor. She brandished a screwdriver in her right hand. First, she stared at Aurora’s boots, then slowly raised her eyes until she met Aurora’s gaze.
Mervyn clapped a hand over his mouth to prevent himself from laughing. Loren was staring at Aurora in open disgust, like a handful of dirty grease she’d pulled from the machine.
Aurora stepped back in alarm, as if Loren had struck her.
‘What do you want?’ Lorne rasped, glaring even harder.
Aurora stuck her nose in the air and inhaled deeply, ‘A lock on my trunk is stuck. Fix it.’
Loren leaped to straight to her feet, like an obedient servant, ‘Oh, is that all, no problem, your Highness.’ Aurora visibly relaxed, until Loren thrust the screwdriver into her hand. Aurora stared at the screwdriver like it was contagious, then stared back at Loren, not comprehending what was happening.
A very brief smile flicked across Lore
n’s face, then the frown returned, ‘Hi, I’m an Outworld Low-life. Fix it yourself.’ Loren snatched up her kit bag and stalked to the unclaimed room, slamming the door behind her.
Aurora closed her open mouth, ‘Well. I have never….’ Then she stared at the screwdriver in her hand, ‘Tarun!’
Mervyn closed his study door quietly, and gave in to the waves of laughter bubbling up inside.
After a moment, Loren’s voice sounded through his biolink, he could tell she was laughing too, ‘What did you think?’
‘Priceless. The look of disgust on your face was absolutely priceless. She reacted like you’d hit her.’
‘You don’t think I might have over done it?’
Mervyn grinned, ‘I don’t think she’d have noticed if you’d been more subtle.’
‘I nearly lost it when I thrust the screwdriver into her hand and she looked at it like a dead rat.
‘Absolutely priceless,’ Mervyn repeated, ‘I can’t wait to see who replaces her.’