Chapter Thirty-Four

We had no time for lunch after Magic Theory.

At least, that’s what our schedule said.

The moment the bell rang Morgan started walking towards the door. “Come on, hurry!” she said.

Amber jumped and followed after her, soon she was joined by Cassy and Jade. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“Ethics starts in ten minutes, and it’s only one building down. But the cafeteria is all the way across the school,” Morgan said. “If we don’t run there, we won’t have anything to eat during class.”

“You can eat during class?” Cassy asked.

“You’re not allowed to, but it’s ethics,” Morgan replied.

Amber jogged after her. “I feel like I’m missing something here.”

Morgan shook her head, pony-tail bobbing with the motion. “I was going to tell you last night, but then last night was a bit hectic. Ethics is one of those classes that everyone skips.”

“Wait, you skip classes?” Cassy asked. She hopped onto her broom and darted ahead the moment they were outside, floating upside-down in front of Morgan. “Morgan. Born with a rod up her rear Morgan. I pay my taxes on time Morgan. You skip classes? You know how to play hooky, to skive?”

“Skive?” Jade asked.

Cassy spun around so that she was sitting up. “It means to skip class.”

“I know what it means,” Jade said. “But it sounds like you’re some British punk when you say that.”

“I can use fancy words.”

“Pretty sure it’s not fancy,” Jade replied.

Morgan sighed. “Yes, I’ll skip ethics class. It’s in the middle of lunch. I don’t know why anyone would expect any less. It doesn’t teach you anything important, and it’s not graded.”

“So, the secret to Morgan is grading here, huh?” Cassy asked.

“Pardon?” Morgan said.

“I get it. So if I start grading you on how good you are at relaxing, will you strive to excel?”

“Isn’t that usually an Asian stereotype?” Jade asked. “I’m usually the one that’s the butt of that joke.”

Cassy dismissed it with a wave. “Nah, you’re cool.”

Jade snorted. Still Amber noticed the shorter girl’s eyes dipping to the sidewalk and her cheeks warmed up just a pinch. “Thanks. Really boosting my self-esteem. So, Morgan, you said that class starts in ten?”

“She said that over two minutes ago,” Amber said.

“Yes, which is why we’re rushing,” Morgan replied.

They weren’t quite rushing. At least, none of them were doing more than walking at a brisk pace. Perhaps a little faster than usual, but not too much so. Jade was the only one that was having a hard time finding a good pace on account of her height.

They arrived at the cafeteria only to find a stand at the front, a little table with a girl and a boy standing behind it. On the table were little tin lunch boxes, colourful ones, with what Amber immediately recognized as popular magical girl teams in bas relief on the front.

“Hey there!” the girl said. She put on a smile for them, one that immediately pinged Amber as too big to be entirely genuine. “Are you here for pre-ethics lunch?”

“We are,” Morgan said. “I don’t recall... any of this?”

The girl shrugged. “It’s new? The teachers that run the ethics course were tired of having to clean up scraps of food all over post-class, so in an effort to keep people showing up they asked the student council to provide lunch boxes.”

“Do you think it’ll work?” Cassy asked.

“Not a chance in hell,” the girl replied. “That class is boring and a waste of everyone’s time. It’s why the student council forced it to be in the time-slot it’s in. But hey, it’s something to keep us occupied during our lunch. You’re Morgan, right?”

“I am,” Morgan said. “I suppose we’ll take four?”

“What’s in the boxes?”

“Quiet foods,” the girl said. “It only takes one jerk with a pack of chips to make Ethics even worse than it is.”

“And here I thought I’d be useful,” Jade said. She took a box, opened it, closed it, then set the edge of her scarf on the table before placing four boxes atop it. The scarf wrapped around them, and then loosened, the boxes all gone. “Thank you,” she said.

“No problem. Don’t fall asleep!” the girl said a moment before turning to the boy next to her to keep talking.

“Everyone’s really selling this class, huh?” Amber asked as they started back.

“It’s not that bad,” Morgan said. “But, yeah, it’s not the best.”

“Then why do we even have it?” Cassy asked.

Morgan shrugged. “Government stuff.”

That was all the explanation they received from Morgan before they arrived at one of the older buildings on the campus. A sign out front helpfully pointed them in the right direction.

The class where ethics took place had rows of desks, each one with four seats to them, all facing a blackboard. It was, to Amber’s eyes, the most normal classroom they’d been in so far. It even had those uncomfortable blue seats with the long narrow holes at the back.

Amber sat in the middle, Jade to one side, Morgan to the other, and Cassy on Jade’s other side, keeping as much room between the team’s two more argumentative members as possible. Well, Morgan’s not so much argumentative as she is obstinate. Cassy definitely is though.

Jade had to be in the middle too, of course. She had their food.

Amber and the others put their bags across their table, then Jade unwrapped her scarf a bit and stretched it out before them, unrolling in and making the four boxes she had appear in the same motion like some sort of fish diving out of the water, only the water was thick wooly cloth.

“You got some flair going,” Cassy said.

“I’ve got to, it’s my only weapon right now,” Jade said.

“We’ll bring you to the armoury. I think we can sign out some non-lethal practice firearms.”

Cassy leaned forwards. “What’s that?”

“Airsoft guns, mostly,” Morgan said. “You can carry them around with you on campus.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Amber asked.

Morgan gave Amber a flat look, which wasn’t all that different from her normal look. “You have time-travelling knives on you at all times.”

“Ah... right.”

Amber opened her lunch box and found it packed to the brim. Little packages with fruit snacks, a sandwich in a plastic container, some actual fruit in another, and little crackers and cheese, everything all tucked away nice and neatly.

“Huh, it’s a field ration pack,” Morgan said.

“Aren’t those usually MREs?” Jade asked.

“I think they tried giving magicals MREs once,” Morgan said. “There was a riot. That’s probably just a rumour, actually, but still. We get good field rations. You can usually trade them around too. I have the... tuna sandwich?”

Amber shrugged and started to eat her own. There was only a minute until class was due to start, so she rushed a bit, but she could still appreciate the meal. Tomatoes, some slices of a strong cheese and what she suspected was ham on rye bread. It was pretty nice for a sandwich that came in a box.

The other students rushed in, some with their own boxes, most without.

The haves soon became the focus of the have-nots envy.

I’m so happy Morgan’s on our team. Amber found a juice box, opened it, and took a pull to wash down the bread.

That’s when their teacher came in. A shorter man, with thick glasses and a sweater vest who came to stand before the class. “Hello everyone,” he said.

“Oh boy,” Cassy muttered.

Amber winced. The man had said all of two words and she could already sense how bad he was at public speaking.

“Today will be your first--introductory--class to Ethics. A subject that many of you might dismiss, but that is incredibly important. After all, you must know your place in society, and your rights, when choosing how to act.”

The teacher began to pace.

Amber returned to eating her sandwich.

“Magicals, upon becoming magicals, are still citizens of their respective countries. Despite this, they, that is, you, are subject to additional laws and restrictions.”

Amber stopped chewing.

“For example, a magical boy or girl cannot own a business.”

“Why not?” Cassy asked.

The teacher blinked, his mouth working. “Um, please save your questions for after the lecture. Though, yes I suppose... mostly it comes down to what most countries call an unfair advantage. Magicals who try to own a business often do so while using skills and magic that are beyond what a normal person can do. For example, a magical that can mass-produce something out of thin air using magic could out-produce a factory.”

He cleared his throat.

“There have been cases where exceptions were made, but these vary from country to country. In France, a bill was recently passed allowing a magical to sell healing items. That wouldn’t yet be legal in North America.”

“That’s bull,” Cassy muttered.

“Magicals are also prohibited from participating in lotteries, and most gambling establishments have a no-magical rule. All it takes is one magical boy or girl able to predict the future to throw such games of chance out of order. At the same time, you can generally expect decent remuneration for your work.”

The teacher stepped to the side, and with almost comical slowness, drank some water from a bottle.

“Ah, yes, now, ethics aren’t just about what you cannot do, but what you should do. As a magical you have powers and abilities beyond those of normal people, things that make you exceptional!”

He cleared his throat.

“We expect that those of you who can save others, who have miraculous powers and who have obtained incredible wishes, will use these to the betterment of mankind.”

Amber shifted in her seat. I mean, yeah, sure, but he’s making it sound like... I don’t know. An obligation?

“This class will go over ethical situations, and your responsibilities within those situations. It is, of course, an elective course, with no test at the end of the year, but you are nonetheless strongly advised to participate.”

Morgan shifted forward, crossed her arms next to her empty lunchbox, and put her head down.

Amber stared. Then she saw that the other girls were also staring.

“If she’s doing nap time, then you can bet I am,” Cassy muttered.

Amber looked around and saw that the other students, the other magicals, were either frowning at the teacher, or had started to follow Morgan’s example. Some of them surreptitiously stood up and were sneaking out of the room, one boy even left an illusion of himself behind.

More were on their phones, or whispering to each other as the teacher droned on.

It’s impossible that he doesn’t see all of this.

Morgan sighed. “First class is an obligatory class,” she whispered.

Jade and Amber leaned closer.

“The Earth government insists on it. Some conservative meatheads. To teach us about our duties and all that. It’s propaganda, but the really boring sort.”

“So is anything he’s saying true?” Jade asked.

“Maybe, but honestly, as long as you’re not acting out too much, no one cares. We’re a solution to a problem that no one else can fix.” Morgan shrugged. “Trying to control magicals too much ends up with stuff like the China incident. So we get these boring, skippable classes with a teacher that knows we won’t be paying attention to placate some politicians back on Earth.”

A bit more political than I expected lessons to be. She yawned, then stretched out onto the table next to Morgan. “Well, I guess it’s nap time then.”

Morgan gave her a faint smile.

Weird seeing her act like this.

The teacher droned on and on, but soon only he heard himself.

***