Heart Glass

Part 7

Dex adjusted the white vest he wore as Garic finished paying his respects to Hayda and walked up to the hover car. He wasn't sure how to feel when Garic took ten minutes to pray to the gorgeous tree— it meant he was either feeling especially pietus, which was supposed to be a good thing— or because he thought something bad was going to happen that day. What a fabulous vote of confidence.

"Stones," he muttered.

"Young Master Dexter, did you just curse?" Garic raised an eyebrow in the mirror. Dex flushed brightly.

Garic sighed and shook his head as he tapped in the location on the coriglass screen of the car.

"Do you suppose it may be wise to wait until after class to do this?"

 "I will attend it in part, to avoid suspicion and hopefully not be caught d..." He sighed. "Ditching. I am afraid that searching for information at the castle archives takes precedence over classes."

"You may find nothing at all, Young Master."

 Dex nodded at him through the driver's mirror. "I know." 

Garic was trying to keep him from being disappointed. It did not really help— he was too nervous. Ditching was a very Wrecklike thing to do— a savage thing to do. He could not recall a single peer who had done it. But, he had to. The castle archives had all the information about the Shine's population, all recorded genealogy information. Somewhere, his family information was stored. He would no longer rely on his mother for it.

He looked back at his home as they drove away. They lifted off the platform and soared into the rushing traffic above. Surrounding the towering Sage Mansion Dex's mother had inherited was a park of white marble fountains and finely cut grass and bright, colorful flowers arranged in patterns. Each blade of grass looked real enough to run through, but it was all coriglass plates. The plants would have all shriveled up by now in the desert heat, and constant care wasted too much precious water. The coriglass was cool to the touch, absorbing all of the solar energy and keeping the temperature at seventy-five degrees. Everything was solar powered in the Shine— the merciless sun seemed their only constant natural resource, besides Dia. The towers and hover cars surrounding Dex's car in the sky all looked different, because of programming— but when the sun shined on them a certain way, their appearances would shimmer and reveal the solar powered Dia beneath for a moment.

Garic maneuvered through traffic in the sky lawfully and efficiently. "When shall I arrive, then, to take you to the archives?"

 "Twelve thirty, please. The middle of lunch, when all are too distracted to notice my disappearance."

"Very well."

The hover car paused a half foot above the platform connecting to an elevator that would take Dex up to his classes.

His door was opened for him by someone who was not Garic. Dex grimaced.

"Hello, fine sir. Enjoy your classes at Cadea Academy." Dex tried to avoid staring at the green triangle, but it grasped for his attention like a flailing little green demon. The Wreck's triangle rested on the front of his cheekbone, a very deep, pronounced green as if it had just barely been dyed, or perhaps had been re-dyed. Some Wrecks tried to burn them off, and they were often caught and fixed up, if not done away with. 

The Wreck tried to smile at him with his nasty yellow teeth, but it looked more like a sneer. His eyes were dark and empty, his uniform rumpled and unadjusted like he had no idea what he looked like in public.

Dex made his way to the door, Garic following behind him. He handed Dex his school bag, bowed sharply, and said, "I will see you after your classes, Master Dexter." "Of course, Garic. Thank you." Dex whirled around and marched past the door, a 'thank you' flying past his lips as he passed the Wreck opening the door. He looked over his shoulder for a brief second, just in time to notice the look of pure shock slide onto the Wreck's expression, then dissipate in a matter of seconds with a clearing of the throat. "Yes, sir." Dex turned around and continued down the opulently decorated hallway, dark blue carpets and vases full of white and a variety of blue shaded flowers were perfectly centered on dark oak tables. All fake— coriglass furniture. He entered a classroom full of students— some were kids his age, some were a little older. He chewed his lip as he scanned for a place to sit, and bit back a smile when the only place he found was next to the one and only Maeve Noble.

Maeve was basically the full package. Her brown locks were up in a neat swirled bun on her head, and her green eyes pinned to the professor attentively, her olive skin seeming to glow with health. One of her friends leaned forward and said something to her and she laughed— the most beautiful sound in the sector. She was gorgeous, funny, and smart— her answers in class were always incredible. Dex sighed as he imagined dancing with her at the King's ball that would happen the next night.

"Dex!" Maeve beamed at him. "How are you?"

"I— I am fantastic, Maeve. You?"

"Wonderful," she nodded, then looked down at her notes. Dex had been hoping to keep talking, but he could see that wasn't going to happen.

He stared at his shimmering coriglass desk as the lesson plans lit up across it in thin, modern sans serif font. He checked off the one from the day before and opened his lop-sided family tree. Hopefully, he wouldn't lose points for having a narcissistic mother who refused to inform him. Ah, well.

The door swung open, and his teacher, Sir Nostrom stepped into the room gallantly, his thick mustache matching the width of his huge white grin, his height and bulging muscles an instantly luminous presence. Dex wondered sometimes if the retired knight liked to build his muscles just for personal satisfaction or if it was to be intimidating to his teenage students— because he sure seemed to get a kick out of it. He walked in broad, proud steps and wore tight shirts with a few individual threads that shimmered like the clinking, awkward Coriglass armor Knights wore. "Good morning, class. Presentations today, correct?" He grinned. "I am keeping the lesson today brief so that we can get that done." He clapped his hands and rubbed them together excitedly. "Let's review what we have been learning about your bloodlines as the Upper citizens of the Shine." He swept a hand over the coriglass wall of the classroom and opened up the Classification chart, revealing ten different levels of citizenship.

"Upper Shine citizens— that's you— have pure blood deemed gifted by Nature. At the bottom is the Wrecks, who, are in fact, hardly human. Discussion question! And I don't want blank stares— what examples have you seen in your everyday life that Wrecks are ungifted by Nature and subhuman?"

After a minute of silence, a few hands shot up.

"Their cheeks are always naturally sunken in," A boy— Mikel— sucked in his cheeks as an example. "You can tell them apart from the rest of us. They just look different. And they have poor posture."

"If you touch a certain spot on the back of their neck, they fall unconscious. But you should only use it if they have one of their psychotic breaks," a girl's voice said behind Dex.

Dex raised his hand uncertainly— he so rarely spoke up in class— and Sir Nostrom snatched up the opportunity to call on him. "I am not sure if this counts, but— this morning, I accidentally told a Wreck 'thank you', and— " A few titters and giggles ran through his classmates. "— Yes, I know. But he was so, well, shocked. Do they have any concept of...manners? They just serve us out of carnal fear for punishment from their masters or Nature, correct? How much social understanding do they have?" Dex stared at his teacher, hoping for some kind of enlightenment, or at least an acknowledgement of the puzzling issue.

"As usual, Dexter, your comments in class are amusing to ponder," Sir Nostrom chuckled. "Always a delight. It may interest you all to know that Wrecks can talk."

"Wait, what?" Mikel blinked.

"Of course they can!" A girl scoffed. "How else could they offend Nature so badly? With their poisonous words and thoughts! My father punished one for speaking up once."

"Naturally," He said. "Why, back in my day, I've had a Wreck actually curse me. They are full of impunity. No clear logical sense or social values."

"What?! What did you do about it?" The class blew up with questions.

Presentations didn't start for another five minutes, but Dex suffered through it. He had a plan, after all. He was going to the archives.