A Piercing Stare

She’ll be fine, Alice thought to herself as she watched her sister’s ambulatory meandering through the school grounds. Six-year-olds can do way more than we give them credit for. She glanced at her watch: Oh shit, I’m really late. Professor Malmos is going to kill me!

----//----

The door made only the slightest of creaks as Alice pushed it open; the kind of creak that makes you indecisive: unsure of whether to pull a band-aid off slowly or to brace and just rip it off. Surely he won’t­­­­–

“Miss Belange!” bellowed Professor Vincent Malmos across the theatre, his face and body still composed neatly behind the lectern. Even the baton in his hand was still pointing at the holographic images in front of him. Where do you even get one of those little pointy sticks?!

“I do you hope you have a very good reason for being 42 minutes late for my lecture, hm?”

Alice looked down at her watch. There were lots of things that really irked Alice about Professor Malmos – including that stupid baton he waved around, as well as his ability to incorporate the exact time in his attacks – but these paled in comparison to his sentence-finishing ‘hms’.

She began with an oft-performed flourish, “Well Professor, actu– “.

“Miss Belange”, he cut her off, the ‘miss’ hitting sharp like an arrow, and with a slight effeminate shrill to it. “Please just take your seat. Miss d’Vere has been diligently keeping one spare for you. She may even fill you in on what important details you have missed towards the upcoming exam, hm?”

The flourish now resembled a skulking trudge, with Alice stomping her way up the stairs to the back of the theatre. Lettie d’Vere had indeed kept a seat aside for her; she always kept a seat aside for her. They had become friends in gardening club in high school, and had both selected controlled-environment agriculture for their university majors.

Alice studied Lettie as she walked towards her: Lettie’s face was about one-fifth sympathy; the rest was laughter trying desperately to escape.

Alice slumped into her chair, not bothering to get out her holojournal. Professor Malmos had long resumed his drawling lecture on aeroponics. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy the topic – after all, she had a small aeroponics station set up in her bedroom, which she tended to like any well-loved pet – but she’d much rather have just read it from a textbook. Instead, she was watching Malmos wave his stick at holographs, accompanied by his usual monotonic lectures.

The holographs danced in front of her glasses, her eyes flitting around as areas pointed at by Malmos became highlighted; expanding and changing. Alice never felt the need to really take notes while gleaning. The words filtered through between her own thoughts and the drawl of Malmos, a strange absorption of thought and time which seemed to synchronise better with each glasses upgrade.

“What are you doing after this?” Lettie whispered, leaning in close to her. She continued, not waiting for an answer. “Amber wants to go to karaoke. Davis too.”

“Of course I’m coming”, she burst out, meeting Lettie’s glance, “as if yo– “.

“Miss Belange!” bellowed Professor Malmos once more, a perfect rendition of his earlier success. “I do so look forward to you assisting me after class. I have many, many aeroponic study plants in much need of feeding, and do so appreciate your offer to help, hm?”

Alice’s mouth remained open for a few seconds, trying to reconcile her old sentence with this new information. She looked back towards Lettie, who threw her a quick, inert glance before devoting her attention entirely back to the lecture.

----//----

Professor Malmos’ study reminded her of textbook images of the universities of Old Earth: historical books and papers piled high on desk and floor, chaos in perfect order; two boards covered in holographic scrawls and diagrams; and plants – plants everywhere – in pots, in troughs, on walls, and suspended from the ceiling in bottomless trellises. There were probably a few growing out of desk drawers.

“Do you enjoy interrupting my lectures, Alice?” His voice relaxed, even friendly, despite the directness of the question. Malmos was standing over his desk, sorting through papers, his back facing Alice.

“I really enjoy aeroponics, Professor”. Alice thought she might actually get away with not answering.

“Alice”, began Malmos. He stopped sorting and turned towards her, “you could really become something if you only applied yourself more, hm?”

Alice was spraying nutrimix onto some dangling roots hanging from a suspended trellis.

“Earth 78 isn’t famous for producing the universe’s best agriculturalists”, he continued, “we don’t have leagues of hydroponic sheds or aeroponic stations like some of the other Earths.” He sounded a little exasperated. “I don’t say this to flatter you, either, because the gods help us you don’t earn any flattery.”

Malmos paused. It was a long pause. Alice had successfully stayed completely focused on feeding plants until now. But her curiosity betrayed her and she stopped to look at Malmos.

“You have a gift for this, Alice. I don’t say that lightly.” He paused again, turning to face her: “A gift.” He began to walk towards her. “You have many smart classmates; I’ve had many smart students before. But you have something else. Something almost…”. He stopped and paused again.

Alice had heard this before. She’d already heard what he hadn’t yet said – not specifically about her intelligence or some gift; she certainly wasn’t sure she saw herself as gifted. But she knew what he was talking about. She didn’t really understand it; but then, somewhere inside, she kind of just did.

Malmos’ usual articulation eluded him, as he grew impatient with himself and fumbled the words “…something unnatural.”

Alice made eye contact with the professor, and instantly felt overpowered by a wave of cold. He was staring at her: a piercing stare. Sharp, but with force. It punctured through her glasses and her retinas, straight into her soul, like a dark spear of ice. She stood there, feet frozen to the floor, unable to break his gaze. Time bending around her, light warping in streams that came and went. The room faded out, Malmos becoming a blurred shadow. Waves started to ripple and form, somewhere inside her. Sinks, like deep wells, began to flood over, gurgling and bubbling forth with a melancholic viscosity, fleeing from some dark truth desperately pushing its way out…

The professor was there again, unmoved, staring at her; the room again full of plants, gentle streams of sun shining through. She wasn’t sure how long had passed. Was that a dream? The hold had broken instantly. She opened her mouth to speak and a message appeared in front her.

“Loulou! Where are you? I need you to go get Milly! Right now!”