Preview
This is a preview post for a Lunar Award Submission
“If you look at sector 12 quadrant 9 class, notice how the sunspot is growing while it collapses. There. See that coronal mass ejection?” The teacher asked.
Brendan pulled his protection glasses down from his eyes as he stopped looking at his personal telescope lens pointing down and outward. He adjusted his notes on his digital pad beside him, then drew the shape that he saw in the scope. The other students did the same. Someone in the class sneezed. The smell of antiseptics permeated his spacesuit. It was uncomfortable to sit in during class, but with the evacuation necessary. Brendan looked up at his teacher: humanoid form, bipedal, no space suit. None was necessary for the teacher as they were built of stronger stuff. At least that was what they said when they came in to substitute for the class.
“Being ‘One without many legs, but can speak eloquent,’ what time are we supposed to evacuate?” Brendan asked.
“Brendan, I appreciate you use my approximate name in English with the class, but my preferred pronoun is ‘Bob’ and to keep things efficient for class, as I have said previously,” the teacher responded while adjusting the scope of another student fixing the focusing array.
“Hm, that’s odd.” They reached behind themselves and pulled and they unfolded a second set of manipulator arms that were held firmly to their back. One adjusted the scope a different way, while another pulled out an ancient chronometer out of its side jacket pocket, adjusting its teacher uniform.
The classroom shuttered. The space station wasn’t supposed to feel space quakes from gravity waves until after the star collapsed, Brendan knew from the lesson materials. He also looked at his personal AI and checked the time, comparing it to the chronometer he saw in the corner of his eye. It was six and a half hours different.
“Oh, wait, I know this one, eight o’clock, eight thirty in Newfoundland!” he said to his best friend who sat beside him, Kathy. He opened his book, not noticing the page was blank.
“Were you up watching old TV broadcasts again?” She asked.
— The completed story will be shared for the Lunar awards. —