The Military Academy
She paused on the doorstep, then entered the house. Beyond the open study door, Mama sat at her desk, head down, scribbling on a notepad. Mama hated using a comm station to make notes. She only used a station when she was ready to write the case she’d present to the overseer. Lesley hesitated outside the door. How many times had she run to the study when she’d scraped her knee, had an argument with Karen or Jason, or needed help with her homework? The study, the familiar sight of her parents’ heads bent over their desks, was usually comforting, reassuring. But not today.
“Mama?” she said, tapping at the door.
“What do you want?” Mama asked, without looking up.
“I want to talk to you about something.”
“If it’s about the exam, I don’t have time to help you right now.” Mama stopped writing, flipped over the paper, and continued to write on the other side. “Ask your papa when he gets home.”
“I don’t need help,” Lesley said, stepping into the room and standing directly in front of Mama’s desk.
“Well, what is it, then?”
She might as well get to the point. “I wrote the entrance exam for the Military Academy.”
Mama stopped writing and looked up. “What?”
“I wrote the entrance exam for the Military Academy.”
“When? I don’t rem—” Mama’s eyes narrowed. “The exam was the same day you were with Karen. You told us you’d decided on that day because Mo would be tied up most of the day at the exam.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry.” Mama stared at her.
“I tried to tell you. But you wouldn’t listen, neither of you. You—”
“Don’t you dare blame your papa and me!” Mama shouted, making Lesley jump. “You lied to us.”
“I—I know. Because I knew you’d be disappointed. But it’s what I want to do, Mama. I don’t want to be an advocate. I want to serve in the military.”
“Why? You’re bright. You could do anything. Why waste yourself on the military?”
“What’s wrong with the military? It serves the Way. It defends the Way.”
“Of course it does. But it’s for those who don’t have any initiative. Who don’t want to think. Who can’t serve the Way in a more . . . stimulating capacity.” To Lesley’s surprise, Mama smiled and leaned forward, clasping her hands on top of the desk. “Don’t stand there looking petrified. Sit down. So you want to serve in the military. Fine. Let’s talk about it.”
Lesley lowered herself into the chair next to Mama’s desk. She sat stiffly, uneasy about Mama’s sudden mood change.
“Now, I want you to listen to me,” Mama said. “You’re young. I can see how the idea of walking around in an orange cloak seems exciting to you. Perhaps you think wearing an orange cloak gives you power. It doesn’t. Everyone in an orange cloak is doing exactly what they’re told to do. They never think. They don’t have to. They’re always told. Thompsons are thinkers. We’re leaders. We aren’t followers. The military is for followers. You won’t like it. You’ll be bored.”
Well, she’d definitely be bored if she became an advocate. “I might be bored,” she allowed.
“No, you will be bored. Once the novelty wears off, you’ll regret not entering the advocacy program. You’ll also regret all the time you wasted. You don’t want to graduate from college when you’re thirty. Listen to me. I don’t want you to ruin your life.”
“Mo’s parents don’t think she’s ruining her life.”
Mama rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair. “Now, you know I love the Middletons. They’re dear, dear friends, especially Susan. But they’re not . . . ambitious. They’re happy sewing clothes and cutting people’s hair. Having Mo at the Military Academy will be a step up for them.”
Lesley took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “Susan’s an indoctrinator.”
“Yes, well, I said the Middletons, but all of them except Susan have Anderson blood. From what I know, the Andersons aren’t exactly driven. The Middletons have a bit more initiative. Michael Joined into that estate.”
“I know, but—”
“And yes, she’s an indoctrinator. But she ended up with a master tailor. The Chosen Council selected an advocate for me. That should tell you something.”
“Michael’s planning to run for the government.”
“Michael’s been planning to run for the government for years,” Mama said, dismissing the notion with a wave of her hand. “He’ll still be planning to run for the government when you’re fifty. As I said, I love the Middletons. They’re good neighbours. But I want more for my children than Susan does. Susan wants everyone to be happy. That’s all well and good, but I want more. I want you to live up to your potential. You won’t do that in the military.”
“Mama, I won’t be happy being an advocate.”
“You don’t know that. You should give it a chance.”
“Why shouldn’t I give the military a chance?”
“Are you listening?” Mama leaned forward, jabbing her finger against her desk for emphasis. “Because the military won’t challenge you. There are better ways for someone like you to serve the Way. Leave the military to those with fewer options.” She sighed and sat back. “Now, I’m not pleased that you lied to us, and I’ll certainly have a talk with your papa about it, including Karen’s role. But at least you finally told the truth. Susan said that if Mo passes, she’ll have to undergo another phase, some evaluation step. Just decline that step. I’ve seen you studying for the advocacy exam. You have been studying, right, not just pretending?”
“Yes, but—”
“Good. Continue with your studies. Once you start the advocacy program, you’ll forget all about the military.”
Lesley shook her head. “It’s too late.”
“What do you mean, it’s too late?”
“I passed the entrance exam.”
Mama shrugged. “So you passed. Just decline the next step.”