The Military Academy
Lesley looked at her lap and stifled a yawn. The warmth of the dining room, fed by the afternoon sun streaming in through the windows, was lulling her to sleep. The topic of conversation didn’t help, either. She shifted in her chair, trying to rouse herself. The worst thing she could do was doze off.
“Are you listening?” Mama asked.
Lesley lifted her head, hoping her eyes conveyed interest she didn’t feel. “Yes.”
Papa slid a sheet of paper across the table toward her. “It’s a lot of information to absorb.”
Feeling another yawn coming on, Lesley picked up the paper and shielded her face with it as she read Entrance Examination Dates for the Advocacy Training Program. She scanned the list of colleges and dates in despair.
Mama yanked the paper from Lesley’s hand and laid it on the table. “The ones in Sectors C4 and D2 are the closest,” she said, pointing them out on the sheet with her pencil.
“But all the colleges are good,” Papa said. “All of them teach the same curriculum.”
“You went to the one in H2, right?” Lesley asked.
Papa nodded. “And your mama attended the one in A7.”
“I did. An excellent college,” Mama said. “But Papa’s right, they’re all decent.” She paused. “It would be nice if you could still live at home during your studies, but you have to think ahead.” She tapped another name on the sheet. “Advocate Cooper teaches there.”
“A brilliant advocate,” Papa murmured.
“You’ll want him to supervise your final year,” Mama said.
Lesley hoped there wouldn’t be a final year, but played along. “Everyone will want him.”
“True, but assuming you keep your marks up, which you will, your name will give you an extra edge. The Thompsons have had at least one advocate in every generation. The archives are filled with cases handled by our family, and we’re not finished yet,” Mama said, indicating herself and Papa.
Papa smiled. “And now you and your brother will carry on the tradition.”
Yes, well, Jason would jump off a cliff if Mama told him to, and shout about what a wonderful idea it was on the way down. Lesley crossed her legs. “Karen won’t be an advocate.”
“No, but we knew early on that your sister’s interests lay elsewhere. She’ll make a fine physician.” Mama patted Lesley’s hand. “And you’ll make a fine advocate. I wasn’t surprised when you sent us the list of courses you’d chosen for your final year at the Learning Academy.”
“Neither was I,” Papa said. “You love the Law. You love the Way. Qualities every advocate needs.”
Lesley wanted to scream. “Every Rymellan serves the Way, no matter what they’re doing.”
Mama nodded. “Of course they do. But advocates serve the Way more directly than most others.” She looked down at the pile of papers in front of her, material she’d had delivered to her office and brought home with her that day. “Material you should have already requested,” she’d said to Lesley with a frown at the beginning of the conversation.
“Advocates aren’t the only ones who directly serve the Way.” Lesley paused to swallow before forcing out her next words. “Maybe I should look into other vocations, too.”
Mama’s head came up. “Like what?”
“Indoctrinators serve the Way,” Lesley said, starting with a vocation she had no interest in pursuing.
“That’s true.”
“Overseers.”
“Overseers are all former advocates or admirals,” Papa said.
Exactly. “That’s another one. The military.”
“The military?” Mama snorted. “The military isn’t for thinkers. It’s for those who need to be told what to do. Here.” She picked up the papers and held them out to Lesley. “The areas the advocacy exam will cover, along with a suggested study list. You should go to the Trading Centre as soon as you can and pick up the books. The exam is only two months away. You have a lot to cover.”
“Admirals who become overseers must be thinkers,” Lesley said as she accepted the papers.
“Admirals who became overseers should have been advocates,” Papa said. Mama turned to him and laughed. He laughed along with her.
Lesley’s shoulders sagged. What was the use? “I’ll go to the Trading Centre right now. If we’re done.”
“Isn’t this exciting?” Mama exclaimed. “You’re about to take your first step toward becoming an advocate.”
Lesley could hardly contain herself. She forced a smile. “I’ll probably stop in at Mo’s on the way home.”
“Supper’s at six. And you’ll have to buckle down now, Lesley, not spend all your free time with Mo. Keeping up with your Learning Academy classes and preparing for the advocacy exam won’t be easy.”
Mama didn’t know the half of it. “Mo has to study, too.”
“I doubt the Military Academy entrance examination will be as demanding as the one you’ll be taking.”
Lesley felt her face tighten. “May I go now?”
Mama motioned toward the dining room entrance. “Yes, go.”
“We’ll see you later,” Papa said.
“Wait!” Mama pointed at the sheet listing the examination dates. “Don’t forget that one.”
Lesley snatched it from the table, went up to her room, and slipped the pile of sheets into her satchel. Outside, she strapped the satchel onto her bike’s rear rack. Her comm unit beeped. As soon as she hit the connect button, Mo said, “Where are you?”