The Joining: The Cycle of the Shards Book One

29: Sneaking Around

In his over two thousand years of life, over a thousand Marconian cycles, Critock had thought he had experienced all that could be experienced in regards to the passage of time. Orbits around black holes lasting mere seconds to him but days and even years to those on surrounding worlds. But sitting in this classroom, listening to the older teacher speak about polynomials and other algebraic functions made the fifty or so minutes that he was supposed to be in this class feel like time itself had simply stopped, and this was to be his fate. Trapped in a classroom surrounded by children a hundredth of his age talking about mathematical theories that he had advanced past long before he could even remember.

It, of course, was not the math that was dragging down the day, it was the impending incineration of the planet, and the confrontation between him and Pt'ron. Finding out who he had become was so close he didn't give it any thought, Shanna's plan was simple enough. Was he ready? He had the Sword of Kon, of course, and he knew it could stand up to most anything Pt'ron could throw at him. But what if the Shards awoke before he could obtain them? Was the sword enough to take him down like he should have thousands of years before? What powers would they imbue upon his former friend? There were still too many questions for Critock to relax, and the waiting caused a knot to form in his stomach. While if asked he would blame his nerves on the human physiology, and of course of the teenage mind he was occupying, but in truth, he was nervous, both for the reunion and the outcome.

Tom was no help for this part of the day. After a scant two minutes of listening to the teacher speak, he declared that he needed to do reconnaissance around the school to make sure they had a good layout in case they had to make a quick escape or sneak around. He disappeared through a wall immediately, and left Critock alone to curse the wisp,

He watched the second hand of the clock, hanging over a picture of a cliché cat hanging onto a tree branch, and could almost swear that it was moving backwards. So involved was he in his thoughts and the lack of passage of time that Critock didn't notice that the teacher had stopped speaking, before a piece of paper landed on his desk. It was a worksheet with twenty different math problems, which were all incredibly simple by his race's standards. Hoping it would pass the time, he started the first problem, and caught himself as he put pencil to paper. Just the answer itself would not be sufficient, these types of classes all expected him to show his work. The Marconian way of doing problems was likely not at all similar to how he would be expected to here, and suddenly he wished that he had even half-listened to the teacher, who by now had given them a nebulous time-limit of "By the end of class". He stared at the sheet, and prodded Kyle's mind, finding it still pliant and easy to pull information out of. However, Kyle was not any better at Earth's maths than Critock was.

He let out a heavy sigh at the paper and the situation, and was a little relieved that Kyle would fare no better. He would have hated to give the boy any reason to feel superior to him. Taking a fresh look at the paper, scanning the other questions for hints. Finding none, and checking back at the clock to find only a minute had passed leaving over thirty remaining before the assembly gave him opportunity to escape this mathematic hell, Critock grimaced at the paper as it failed to give up its secrets. Finally, he scanned Kyle's mind again, finding glimpses and fragments of the formulas he needed. By themselves, they were incomplete and useless, and would draw undue attention to him, which considering what had happened and what still was going on with the other students in the room glancing back at him and whispering was the last thing that he needed. But he found he was able to fill in most of the blanks from his own experiences and knowledge and began quickly answering the questions. It occurred to him that once again the solution to the problem is for both of their minds to be put together, but he dismissed it as sentimental nonsense, not wanting to reduce this galactic struggle to the level of a message that could just as easily be written on a greeting card.