goodness in beauty?” asked Grandpa.
“Do you remember the live-ferret coat fad?” Then I thought of one that was sure to stump him. “How about temporal smugglers?”
“That’s not a calling.” He kissed me on the top of my head. “That’s a crying shame.”
I cringed at the censure of a memory. The form in front of me flashed and brought me back to my task. I’d been thinking about the field of Temporal Ethics, but after yesterday’s mission that probably wasn’t a stellar idea. There was always Quantum Biology. It seemed to be the one class I wasn’t in danger of failing right now. And, of course, anything in the here and now to unravel the mystery of Mom’s accident in the past I wanted to do.
“Done?” Quigley didn’t wait for a response. “Good.”
I managed to mark the Bio box right before the form piffed away.
“Are there any questions?” she asked.
Arms shot up across the room.
“Questions that don’t involve the phrases ‘what should I do’ or ‘rest of my life’?”
Every hand went down.
Except Mimi’s.
“Yes?” said Quigley.
“What would it mean if you didn’t get the Buzz on a mission?” Mimi kept her attention trained forward, but her eyes slid across the aisle in my direction for a fraction of a second.
Panic sprang up in my gut. I hid my mouth with my hand and hissed, “What are you doing?” behind clenched teeth.
Quigley’s lips transformed to a thin, red line. “Mild Buzzes are indicative of nothing.”
“But no pain?”
I stared at Mimi, willing her mouth to stop moving. But at the same time, this was my one chance to find out.
“Likely the Shifter would have ingested some Buzztabs without remembering,” said Quigley.
“But—”
“Miss Ellison, is there something you need to tell me?”
Mimi shook her head with a casual confidence only she could pull off, and our teacher let it drop.
“Today we’ll cover the Chinchilla Flu Epidemic of— Oh.” The Quig looked down at her screen. “First, Miss Bennis will present her midterm from yesterday.”
I could feel the heat of my classmates’ stares as I made my way to the front of the room. Quigley took a seat off to the side.
“My, umm, my trip—”
“Mission,” interrupted Quigley. “You weren’t on holiday.”
“My mission was to early twenty-first-century Virginia.” I looked up and realized I might as well be talking to air. Mimi and Charlie were the only ones even looking at me. Charlie always sat up front with her rather than in the back with the other transporters. At least my fellow Shifters had their eyes open. Half the transporters were falling asleep. Except Wyck, who was actually taking notes. A first.
“And?” said Quigley.
Wyck looked up from his notes and bobbed his head encouragingly.
“And everything went fine. My launching transporter landed me down a deserted alleyway in Williamsburg. There was a redcoats reenactment going on.”
Quigley raised her eyebrows. I didn’t want to get Wyck in trouble, so I quickly added, “Which was actually a good thing. It kept me on my toes. I had to figure out where I was based on my surroundings because it took a few minutes for my QuantCom to quadrangulate my tendrils and register where I was. I had to use, umm, history skills.”
History skills. This was going great.
“I then took a bus to the location and left the package there. At the location.”
A couple transporters in the third-to-last row, Rab and Paolo, elbowed each other and started whispering.
“The location being?” said Quigley.
“The instructions sent me to a grave for a Muffy van Sloot. It was very … inconspicuous.” So inconspicuous I couldn’t find it. “Sorry. It was a routine mission. I don’t know what else to say. Nothing out of the norm or dangerous. All safety protocol was followed.”
“Sh’right,” coughed Rab.
Quigley must not have heard him, but Wyck sure did. He landed a well-aimed kick to the back of Rab’s chair.
“Umm.”
“Do you remember the live-ferret coat fad?” Then I thought of one that was sure to stump him. “How about temporal smugglers?”
“That’s not a calling.” He kissed me on the top of my head. “That’s a crying shame.”
I cringed at the censure of a memory. The form in front of me flashed and brought me back to my task. I’d been thinking about the field of Temporal Ethics, but after yesterday’s mission that probably wasn’t a stellar idea. There was always Quantum Biology. It seemed to be the one class I wasn’t in danger of failing right now. And, of course, anything in the here and now to unravel the mystery of Mom’s accident in the past I wanted to do.
“Done?” Quigley didn’t wait for a response. “Good.”
I managed to mark the Bio box right before the form piffed away.
“Are there any questions?” she asked.
Arms shot up across the room.
“Questions that don’t involve the phrases ‘what should I do’ or ‘rest of my life’?”
Every hand went down.
Except Mimi’s.
“Yes?” said Quigley.
“What would it mean if you didn’t get the Buzz on a mission?” Mimi kept her attention trained forward, but her eyes slid across the aisle in my direction for a fraction of a second.
Panic sprang up in my gut. I hid my mouth with my hand and hissed, “What are you doing?” behind clenched teeth.
Quigley’s lips transformed to a thin, red line. “Mild Buzzes are indicative of nothing.”
“But no pain?”
I stared at Mimi, willing her mouth to stop moving. But at the same time, this was my one chance to find out.
“Likely the Shifter would have ingested some Buzztabs without remembering,” said Quigley.
“But—”
“Miss Ellison, is there something you need to tell me?”
Mimi shook her head with a casual confidence only she could pull off, and our teacher let it drop.
“Today we’ll cover the Chinchilla Flu Epidemic of— Oh.” The Quig looked down at her screen. “First, Miss Bennis will present her midterm from yesterday.”
I could feel the heat of my classmates’ stares as I made my way to the front of the room. Quigley took a seat off to the side.
“My, umm, my trip—”
“Mission,” interrupted Quigley. “You weren’t on holiday.”
“My mission was to early twenty-first-century Virginia.” I looked up and realized I might as well be talking to air. Mimi and Charlie were the only ones even looking at me. Charlie always sat up front with her rather than in the back with the other transporters. At least my fellow Shifters had their eyes open. Half the transporters were falling asleep. Except Wyck, who was actually taking notes. A first.
“And?” said Quigley.
Wyck looked up from his notes and bobbed his head encouragingly.
“And everything went fine. My launching transporter landed me down a deserted alleyway in Williamsburg. There was a redcoats reenactment going on.”
Quigley raised her eyebrows. I didn’t want to get Wyck in trouble, so I quickly added, “Which was actually a good thing. It kept me on my toes. I had to figure out where I was based on my surroundings because it took a few minutes for my QuantCom to quadrangulate my tendrils and register where I was. I had to use, umm, history skills.”
History skills. This was going great.
“I then took a bus to the location and left the package there. At the location.”
A couple transporters in the third-to-last row, Rab and Paolo, elbowed each other and started whispering.
“The location being?” said Quigley.
“The instructions sent me to a grave for a Muffy van Sloot. It was very … inconspicuous.” So inconspicuous I couldn’t find it. “Sorry. It was a routine mission. I don’t know what else to say. Nothing out of the norm or dangerous. All safety protocol was followed.”
“Sh’right,” coughed Rab.
Quigley must not have heard him, but Wyck sure did. He landed a well-aimed kick to the back of Rab’s chair.
“Umm.”
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