double doors of the high school, watching the students pass by her while ignoring their looks and whispers of “BAE!” They looked impossibly young as they filled the pods and headed to their homes in the various parts of the Back. Too soon, she knew, they would leave here for the last time, either going on to higher learning or to the trades they were chosen for by aptitude tests. A few would assume roles with life-and-death responsibilities, possibly sooner rather than later.
They still seemed incredibly young.
When Paolo did not appear, she stiffened her shoulders and entered the school, amazed at the thought twenty years had passed since she walked the halls as a student, yet the school was the same, even down to the video displays on the walls. Like when she was a senior, the screens advertised dances and sporting events, though in different fonts and colors from her faraway youth.
The lockers along the walls were the same, even down to the color. On an impulse, she spun the combination lock on A113 beside the Head Teacher’s door, not having to think much about the numbers. In line with the devices on the rest of the ship, a mechanical mechanism kept the locker closed instead of an electronic lock. The Original Builders consistently chose the simplest solutions while building Salvation. The ship needed to function and survive for thousands of years, and electronics always wore out before metal tumblers.
The door opened, and as she should have foreseen, the pads and tablets inside crashed to the floor with a loud clatter. Oh, awesome.
She was picking everything up when a voice interrupted her.
“May I be of service to you, Engineer?”
Busted! She gathered up the debris and shoved it into the locker. “Thank you, Head Teacher, but I have things under control.”
“May I then conclude,” the Head Teacher asked, sarcasm heavy in her voice, “that they are correct when they say, ‘There is a first time for everything’?”
The Engineer slammed the door shut, the clang echoing down the empty hall, as she turned on the Head Teacher. “Mother! Please!”
“Joro,” her mother warned, “watch your tone.”
“You started it!”
“And I’m ending it.” She opened her arms. “Unless it is beneath the dignity of the BAE, come give your mother a hug.”
Joro sighed and stepped into her mother’s embrace, grateful that the Head Teacher appeared the same as she did when they last hugged… when? Joro couldn’t remember the last time.
She breathed in her mother’s scent of the perfumed soap that her aunt made in her cabin. “When was the last time we saw each other?”
“We spoke last month.”
“No. In person.”
“Paolo’s investiture ceremony.”
“Right.” The students learned their life choices at a gala in their sophomore year, and Paolo was placed on the exact same path as his mother and sister—engineering with leadership. Joro was immensely proud. “Don’t call me BAE, please.”
“You don’t like ‘Bad Ass Engineer’?”
“I do, but lately it’s more like ‘Big-Ass Engineer.’”
Her mother laughed as she let go. “Not even close, daughter. Not even close. Do you have time for tea?”
Joro could hear the real question in her mother’s voice—“Can I have a little more time, please?”—and mentally kicked her herself for not predicting this. “Mother, I’m here to see Paolo, then I must get back. I’m on a schedule. But I have not forgotten your birthday. I will be there next week. I promise.”
“Of course.” Her mother stiffened her back. “If the Head Teacher may advise the Engineer, don’t make promises you can’t keep.” She pointed down the hall. “He’s in the physics lab. You remember where it is. Thank you for honoring our school with your presence, Engineer.”
Ouch.
Joro stepped to the side to let her mother pass through the door of the Head Teacher’s office. The door slid shut with barely a noise.
The worst part, Joro thought as she headed to what used to be her favorite classroom, was that her mother was right. She made time for her husbands and Paolo, but somehow real-life events always interrupted her plans with her mother. Or more to the point, Joro let real life interrupt those plans.
She paused at the laboratory door, surprised by the mist in her eyes. With Paolo graduating in a few weeks, there would be no more children in her cabin. No more juggling senior staff meetings with school events. No more having to choose to be the Engineer or the mother whenever a crisis arose.
Her last baby was growing up.
I will miss these days!
Joro entered the classroom and was surprised to see Paolo sitting at a bare desk, save for one pad laid face down. He was in his formal clothes, and he even took the time to shave his ever-present stubble and comb his thick hair, genetic artifacts from his father. He was also much taller than his mother. Otherwise, he took after Joro with his Filipino features and Australian musculature.
My beautiful, beautiful son!
Paolo stood, almost at attention. “Engineer, ma’am.”
In a second, Joro understood his formality and why Padmus asked that she wear her uniform, and her heart froze. This was not a mother picking up her son from school. This was part of a specific process, and the last step involved a meeting where the applicant would present their application to the Engineer.
I don’t know if I can do this.
“Engineer, ma’am,” Paolo repeated, gesturing at the chair across from him.
“Thank you, Applicant.” She took a deep breath and sat as she reviewed the script in her head. “Please sit.”
“Thank you.”
“You are to be congratulated, Applicant, for having reached this stage. You’ve proven yourself in many ways. Tests. Interviews. Recommendations from your mentors. You and others like you have traveled far to be here in front of the Engineer.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“May I?” Joro pointed at the pad.
“Of course.”
She flipped it over and began scrolling through the documents. With no small pride, she saw that Paolo excelled at all tasks and was probably the best-suited Applicant in her experience, herself and Tomika included.
When she saw that Padmus and Enrique were his sponsors, though, Joro forced herself to lock away her anger. The three of them kept her out of this loop because, logically and ethically, the Engineer made the final decision. She couldn’t be involved on any level.
She still felt betrayed.
“Are you aware of the four-year commitment, Applicant? That Ring-side Technicians who choose this career path will completely immerse themselves in the Ring culture and make minimal visits home?” Joro wasn’t sure who was asking—the Engineer or Paolo’s mother.
“I am, ma’am.”
“I see your testimony here, but I want to hear it from you in your own words. Why do you want to be a Ring-side Technician when serving your apprenticeship in the Back would be much easier?”
He answered as if he were expecting the question. “I am privileged to live with adults who have pledged their lives to the service of Salvation, ma’am. They have not chosen the easiest lives for themselves but are dedicated to providing the best lives for others. My mother and sister began their careers as Ring-side Technicians. I want to honor their examples by doing the same.”
“What about higher learning?”
“It will still be here when I return, and I will be a better student for my experiences.”
“True.” But four years, Paolo! Joro understood her own mother better in that moment, sitting there and watching her son preparing to leave home to become an adult.
She scrolled through the documents until she found the one she needed. She pressed her thumb to the space and watched the borders turn green. Done. My last baby is leaving the nest.
Joro wiped her nose. “You have completed the application process. You will be contacted soon for the final arrangements.” She held out her hand. “Congratulations, Technician.”
Paolo shook her hand and quickly let go. “Thank you, Engineer.”
“Why don’t you go share the good news with your grandmother? She’s in her office.”
“Thank you.” He quickly rose and strode to the door.
“Paolo.”
He stopped. “Yes, Mother?”
“I’m very proud of you.”
“Thank you.”
“When you find your sister, could you tell her I love her and want her to come home?”