Ana looked over the school skeptically. On the surface it wasn't impressive. The buildings were brick and mortar covered in the south-western style stucco that hadn't changed since before the cataclysm. Likewise the roofs were flat on buildings that never got higher than two stories.212Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡArn0DBnpvQ
It could almost have passed for a photo from the archives of a pre-cataclysm city. It was a clear sign of how even though the laws of physics could turn everything on its ear the human race liked to keep things the same.
There were small differences from what those ancestors would expect. There were no street lights, for example, and fewer roads as cars were rare. In this school the only one to be found was the one that went right through the trade district connecting highway coming in from the north to the highway coming from the south. Everything else was either bike paths or sidewalks. Well, it was small. Maybe five-hundred people occupied it, if that. Vehicles weren't really necessary, and the lack of roads made it possible for the buildings to be built closer together, saving on land.212Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡP4lNgJ4pLa
This was the Davis-Monthan Academy: a distinguished school rumored to turn out the best soldiers, spies, assassins, and mages on the continent. It was also the only academy Ana had ever heard to be large enough to be considered to have it's own sovereignty.
It was surrounded by desert with the ruins of Tucson to the north. It had once been an air force base for the United States; a country too large to sustain itself during the early years of the Second Dark Age. That wasn't fair; most countries had collapsed when the Apocalypse came.
Every military academy she'd been to thus far had been strict, and had tried to make her conform to a military lifestyle; up at dawn, sleep by dusk, three squares a day, no junk food (That one stuck, her figure was important to her), military uniforms, etc. When they couldn't force her into their predefined mold she was labeled a bad influence and expelled.
At that point she'd skip town and work her way to the next city-state and reapply at their academy. Only the large cities had one, making the selection of where to go simpler. There was no standard curriculum. Instead most had tests to determine if they were qualified.
She was far from stupid, and she was quite gifted. She had little trouble passing whatever paltry entrance exams they had to offer and for at least the first few months she could behave herself. Sometimes she'd last the entire first semester.
As she learned her aptitude scores improved and she tested out of the early classes, then the mid level classes. She was confident that even the fifth years at any campus would find her a challenge in a fight now.
She wasn't book smart however. She never could understand the purpose, so had learned only what she needed to get past the entrance exams. She knew she would become a mercenary when she was done, and she would just follow orders. Point her in the right direction and she'd kill anything in the way. Simple.
The caravan that she had traveled with had dropped her off in the trade district, such as it was, on the eastern side of the school. They were there to trade their wares, then move on to New Tucson in the mountains. Though Davis-Monthan was a school, but it did not reside inside a city. That meant it had to have places for both students and teachers alike to get day-to-day items and to entertain themselves.
Unfortunately being a school there was nothing being sold, legally, that wasn't approved. No drugs, no alcohol, no strippers. She doubted there was even sex toys here. Going to a bar and ordering a soda just felt... wrong. She'd have to search for where the contraband was available. It would be somewhere. It always was.
She caught sight of a few students as she made her way towards the center of the school and noted many of them didn't wear any kind of school uniform. Maybe there was a chance at this one then. She liked relaxed atmospheres. They were so much more productive for her. It gave her hope that at this school at least she could graduate.
Well no matter how relaxed, a school needed an administration office, and that's where she needed to be to start the acceptance process. She automatically filtered out the buildings that were obviously dorms, and the one that was a cafeteria and recreation center. The classroom buildings were equally recognizable with the amount of students going in and out. There was one building that stood out. Few were going there, and none of them had learning materials on them. That's where she headed.
No one challenged her, which was disturbing. Granted, there were many who didn't have a uniform on so her plain dress somewhat blended in (It was disgustingly dirty by her preferences), and she was walking with purpose so it was easy to assume she knew where she was going. The school itself was the size of a small city-state, so an unrecognized face wasn't going to surprise anyone.
It was understandable, and it was hugely incompetent. On the interior of any city life moved on like normal. Humans didn't like living in fear, of being reminded that beyond their walls wars over resources, greed, and pride, routinely ravaged the land.
Those armies, or even some bandit raiders, could come into this academy without a single challenge. There had been no walls to protected it, nor any form of checkpoint system. In fact, not a single form of defense was visible to her.
This is one of the best on the continent? She was beginning to doubt that.
Ana had been correct on which building was the admin, and she entered as if she owned it. Her feeling of superiority over everyone, including the teachers, had peaked after her assessments.
"Hello, Ms. Mutet."
That single sentence stopped her dead as the door closed behind her, literally hitting her in the but. "I hope your travel from Lost Angels was without incident."
That earlier confidence was crushed. Their information network was something to be feared if this secretary already knew who she was. Communication between cities was difficult, and rarely worth the effort. There were three cities within reasonable transport distance, and the total population among the three was perhaps four-thousand, at a guess . Figuring out that one girl among those thousands was coming here was more than even the best precognitive had a chance of finding. Lost Angels was well beyond a reasonable distance away.
The clerk smiled at her knowingly. She had a friendly, yet slightly bored, demeanor that was to be expected of an office worker. She was dressed professionally in an understated refined manner which said the lax attitudes of the students was not a reflection of the staff.
"Do you mind if I call you Ana?" she asked. At her nod the clerk continued. "I'm Stacy. Don't worry, your reaction is normal." If Ana had hoped for further explanation she was disappointed. All she got was a friendly smile. "Welcome to Davis-Monthan Academy. DMA for short. We've gotten transcripts for your last five schools. Based on them you'll be approved pending your testing and a combat assessment. Don't worry about that last. Only one person in our history has ever been dropped because of it. It's simply to determine your aptitudes so we know which learning track to put you on."
The speed and efficiency of her acceptance only further bewildered Ana. "Do I need to fill out any paperwork?" She asked, but suspected the answer was no.
"No, we got all the information we needed from the transcripts," the entirely too well informed Stacy confirmed. "You came at a good time. Next entrance exams begin tomorrow morning. Of course since you haven't officially been entered into the school we can't assign you a dorm room, but we have guest quarters ready until then. Josie will show you where yours is."
She nodded towards what Ana expected to be a student based on her apparent age. Like Stacy she was dressed well however. Student government perhaps, or do they just have a higher standard of the students performing an administrative task? At the moment it didn't matter, though if it was the former she'd be a good person to know.
"Thank you," Ana said, still off balance from the rapid entrance, then turned to look at her guide. She was fit, as anyone at a military academy would be, and attractive in that slightly too innocent sort of way. It worked for her with just a hint of makeup, and bob cut black hair.
"Oh, I almost forgot."
Ana turned back, almost surprised that the omnipotent clerk could forget anything. "Put this on. It identifies you as a student, and it will unlock any locked doors you have permission to open. Until you're fully accepted that will only be a few places of course."
Taking the offered ring she looked at it. It was a simple band of an unknown black metal. There was no insignia or anything that would be difficult to counterfeit. She wasn't sure how it would mark her as a student. With a shrug she put on the ring and suppressed an involuntary yelp when it tightened around her finger.
She felt a circuit start, pulling a tiny amount of her magic to power the glyph inside the ring. Looking from her ring to the clerk she took an involuntary step back. Floating in mid air she saw "Headmistress Stacy Gallows," with a picture of the 'clerk' beside. As soon as she absorbed what it said the text and picture disappeared. "Headmistress?" Ana exclaimed, shocked more by who she'd been talking to than the display itself.212Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBauLO9EgqF
"Did I forget to mention that too? My apologies. I'll see you again at the commencement ceremony."
That was a dismissal if ever she'd heard one. Looking over to her guide she got that same readout and flinched involuntarily with surprise. It read: 212Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcy8max5Kjh
"Second-Lieutenant Josie Fletcher212Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡs9JqEJ2CfI
Fifth Year, Rogue track, Spy specialization212Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0Lx275LDlA
Student President"212Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKp4iMRrm2g
Out of curiosity she looked at a piece of glass that was set so she could see a slightly transparent reflection of herself. The display popped up again, marking her as "candidate." She noted that looking at either of the other occupants of the room did not bring the display again.212Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9Y97eNTv1q
Well, that answered how she was able to get on campus unchallenged. It would explain how the Headmistress knew who she was as well, except this display didn't tell anything about where she came from. True, she could have a better version of the ring, but she had known well in advance Ana was coming if she already had her transcripts. She expected anyone who wasn't supposed to be on campus wouldn't have any display at all. It was very efficient.
Her faith in the school was quickly being restored, if a bit disturbed.
Leaving the building Josie smiled. "Don't worry, she does that to everyone," she told her.
"Does what?"
With a grin and a wink, "The all-knowing act. She doesn't, but it makes a great first impression. Now for a few things she forgot to mention. That ring, for starters. It's encoded only to you, so no one else can use it. Not that that is likely. It also tightens around your finger enough that you won't get it off. The information you've been seeing is programmed into the ring, and it's updated every time you use a door knob in the dorms. You'll only see the display when you don't know or remember any of the information the ring can provide."
That didn't quite add up. "I saw my information, and I know who I am."
"Ah, but did you know you are a candidate? The ring is very literal minded. You can think of yourself as new, or a petitioner, or pending tests, or any number of other things. Until you know you are a 'candidate' it will display your information."
Well that made sense. "That's very useful. The talent to create this is incredible." Really, it was. Glyphs were wonderful things. The best invention since the cataclysm. That wasn't her opinion, that was proven fact. They were still limited however. While it worked without conscious thought, they could only do what they were programmed for. To be able for a circuit to be programmed to react to a memory... that was one hell of a innovation. That it was able to hold all the information of the school registry and still remain small enough to fit in a ring... She wouldn't have thought that was possible an hour ago.
While walking towards the dorms that display kept popping up over everyone's head as well as over the buildings. Some stayed longer than others, but with what she'd been told she guessed it was because she hadn't committed their information to memory. That could be a problem in a fight with an enemy army. "What do you do when you are overwhelmed with information?"
"You're thinking in terms of combat with multiple enemies, aren't you?" Ana nodded. "As unknowns, outsiders don't show on the HUD."
Heading around another corner they came to the entrance of the Swan Building, as her HUD explained. "This is the Coed's dorm," Josie explained unnecessarily. "The guest rooms are on the bottom floor." She continued "Traveling from the Pacific to here means you don't have much." That made Ana conscious of her drab attire again, and a bit shamed. "The Headmistress must be very sure about you though. She's made sure there are two changes of clothes waiting for you in your size, and some basic toiletries. That's more than most get."
She paused for a second in thought, then continued, "I'm sure you noticed that there are a lot of people not wearing uniforms. Only those in one of the soldier tracks are required to wear them at all times. Everyone else only needs to wear them during classes, unless your C.O. tells you otherwise. Once you're admitted properly you'll get yours, and they're free."
'All knowing act' indeed. Ana had to figure out how the headmaster got her information, and maybe get hooked into it somehow. At the very least it would help her obfuscate any information before she got caught doing something against school rules. "I'm going to guess that the toiletries are the same as what I would prefer to use?"
"Most likely. She is nothing if not thorough."
Josie didn't seem to be a slouch at information herself, as befitted a student president. "Any idea how she does it?"
"Not a one. Believe me, I've been trying to find out," she said sounding a bit miffed. It told Ana her search was more out of curiosity than for avoiding getting caught for anything. She was a good kid Ana suspected. Most people were, but it was important not to assume that. The worst people hid their stripes behind a beguiling smile.
"Here you are. Tests start at oh-seven-hundred sharp. I'll come pick you up at oh-six-forty to get you there."
Ana smiled to indicate her thanks, then said so verbally. "I will see you in the morning then. Thank you."
Entering the room she felt the weariness she'd been fighting off envelope her. The last leg of her travel had been exhausting. Her money had been long since spent so she'd used the only currency she had left: her eighteen year old body. The caravan leader had been a kind and gentle man at least, and it was far from the first time she had to resort to using that currency. As they neared the school he decided one last time was in order and taken something to increase his stamina. She hurt from that in ways that a man couldn't understand.
She couldn't let any of that show however. She couldn't afford having a reputation whether it was earned or not. Quickly she stripped out of her dusty and stained clothes, glad to be rid of them, and headed to the dresser to see what had been provided.
The undergarments were exactly what she would wear normally: white, frilly and feminine. When she checked the next drawer she found a simple long sleeved black t-shirt, and nothing else.
Knowing there was supposed to be two sets of clothing she checked the closet next. Durable black canvas pants was the first article of clothing she found. They had pockets at both thigh and shin levels of both legs. Checking closer she found spots to conceal four knives on the legs and a spot for a hidden gun along the back. It was exactly what she'd want to wear in the field, and went perfect with the shirt in the drawer.
What took her breath away was the dress next to it. The style was anachronistic of a time centuries before the cataclysm, which she had come to love. The blouse was loose fitting, the sleeves slightly baggy so she could move in it. Over that she would wear the provided over dress. It incorporated a bodice that laced up the sides, and opened up in the front at waste level to reveal an under skirt. It was a gorgeous vibrant red, with gold embroidery. The embroidery was probably machine sewn, but she didn't care. It was the best garment she'd ever owned.
Unable to resist, she inspected it closer and found that the interior lining was Balistaweave, making it bulletproof. She put the slightest of her magic energy into the bodice and was unsurprised when she felt it get grounded out into the earth. The ribbing in the bodice was iron, and she suspected there was metallic threading in the dress that was long enough on her to just touch the ground. Most magical attacks would be useless against this.
The gold embroidery would compliment her hair perfectly, and she had always favored red for day to day wear. Compared to that the skirt was almost a disappointment. Simple black linen. Given how expensive the rest of the dress must have been she wasn't going to complain, and she expected the black would make the red of her dress pop.
The combination was going to not only be functional, but make her the prettiest woman on campus.
On the floor she found a pair of boots and a pair of lady slippers in keeping with her dress. Yes, the headmaster had thought of everything. There was even a terrycloth robe next to her outfits, which she grabbed for her bath. She needed a soak to relax her muscles enough for sleep.
She was past being surprised by the intimate knowledge, and expected it when she found the soaps and deodorants of the same type and scents she preferred.
Leaning back into the hot water of her bath, she thought over the implications of a simple ring, and the not so simple information network. Well, given what I've seen I can guess that this can be used to track where I'm at. I bet the authorities would get an alarm if I even take it off. I think I could though. If I isolate my magic away from my finger it will lose power and should return to its normal size. As long as I only do that for a couple of seconds it shouldn't cause any harm to me.
Relaxing her eyes she tried focusing on the circuitry that was inside the ring. She'd never had a good grasp on inner sight. Everyone had their own magical aptitudes. If it wasn't a strength there wasn't much point in mastering it as far as she was concerned. It would be a futile effort.
Given enough time though it was possible to see at least the basics. Gradually she started to see the predefined lines that her magic was flowing through. Most of it was gibberish to her. Not studying the sight meant she hadn't learned the meaning behind the positions and thicknesses of the lines before her, and its nearly microscopic scale made it even harder to decipher.
She did come to understand that she'd been right about it being trackable. A single line was left open with only a trace of her magic leaking from it. It wasn't enough of a leek to affect her, but it was enough that with the proper spell she'd be easily found.
She didn't like that, but she didn't see any way around it.
Feeling the water begin to cool she used the most basic of spells to begin to reheat it, then relaxed further as the steam rose.
Now the mystery of the headmaster's information network was going to be harder to figure out. New Tucson in the foot hills, Sierra Vista to the south east, and the Tohono O'odhamIndian Nation to the south west were the largest and most stable of the cities near them. Phoenix had never recovered from the Cataclysm and had become a breeding ground for Chimera. The farthest she thought this academy would keep track of was an outpost town named Yuma, and that was a stretch.
So how, and why, were they keeping track of Lost Angels? That distance had been part of her deciding factor on coming here. With sudden insight Ana had an idea. What if it wasn't the city they had paid attention to? What if it had been her all along? Could they have managed to guide her here without her ever realizing it?
Which is scarier: An all knowing information network, or them being able to completely manipulate Ana, who was a suspicious and skeptical woman, without her ever knowing?212Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0Jq9YDINdx
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Stacy smiled to herself, seeing her latest acquisition leave. It had been difficult to arrange her arrival, and it had been nearly too late. The next round of assessments was the last for the semester.
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