“I can’t believe he called you out like that.” Cocole smirked for the first time since Temora had met him on the field. “I just know he’s been waiting to do that for weeks.” He sensibly chuckled at the thought of Professor Holiday crossing days off of his office calendar until he could finally ask Albe a question about sporting equipment.

Albe looked both intrigued and concerned, to Cole’s dismay. “It did not come to me, until this class, that they would use this type of equipment for a military purpose. Why shouldn't they? What kind of special operation would give an advantage to someone who can fly? All of them right?” His brow narrowed. “Most of their work is on ships, and the skysurfers do not help you maneuver as quickly. They don’t keep you in the air for long either. They could be used to prevent people from falling, but cloudwalkers do that already. The military could use them to board other ships, but why would you risk giving your enemy such expensive equipment? The only reason I can think of, a military application, would be in some situation where they knew there would be no risk of getting caught. One that requires stealth, some clandestine operation where you might need to go over something.”

Albe was rapidly putting the pieces together in his mind as the others looked on as the realization hit the three of them simultaneously. They would not be “giving equipment like this to novices”, which he said himself. They would only be given to a special operations group in some deep military, black-budget type exercise. Their professor had access to some highly privileged information, that they were now able to speculate on.

“Albe, I have a question for you.” Temora tapped her trowel against the pressed metal tray, clicking against it rhythmically. “I’m not much of a gemite, I’ve never used gemin before myself... other than for water.” She took out her notes from the class, where she drew a crude diagram of what she saw in the shoes.

“Each of the boots has two floatstones in it, right? Meaning someone is under control over four gemin total. How is that possible? Doesn’t that violate triad?” It was a purely academic question for Temora, there wasn’t even a hint of curiosity in her voice. The question came out as if she discovered something malformed in her concept of reality.

“It does, which is why skysurfers are so physically taxing. Your entire body will exhaust its energy. Airstride players must eat high calories between periods. Some resort to caffeinated supplements, or strong stimulants. Then they get failed and get pulled.” He made the cutting of the neck gesture with his hand. “I am to understand that the yellow gemin are the least physically taxing color to use, but I would not want to control four of any color of gemin for longer than it would take to play an airstride game into its second period.” Albe, tipped his trowel into the dry-rubbed meat, still trying to figure out what kind of animal it was exactly.

“Do any of you own a gemin?” Temora proposed them, hoping to see one used outside of a classroom setting. Cocole and Albe looked at each other in slowly calculated contemplation.

“I have just one, and I did not bring it with me here. It was my grandfather’s, and carrying it around would be a grievous misuse of it I feel. It is a bright, and clear green gem. We have never had it graded because we feared for its theft.” Albe spoke with his head down toward the plate in front of him, thoughts distracting him from the food; as delicious as it was.

Temora opened the refrigerated carton of pokopomme juice. It was still tart and a little bitter, just the way she liked it. “What about you Cole?” she pointed at him with the same hand she was holding the carton with.

Cocole again looked at Albe who looked up toward him as they thought through his response. “I used to have three before I ended up here in Argentis. They were... requisitioned, by the military when I arrived here.” He clasped his hands and pressed his thumbs above the bridge of his nose into his inner brow. “I was wrong to ever assume I would get them back after I made it through port customs. I loved them like... no... they ‘were family’, and I hope that one day I will be able to see them again.” His gaze moved up to meet Temora’s eyes. Cocole’s voice stammered with the obviousness of someone heatedly holding back tears.

Temora did not understand why he had such a strong emotional connection to those objects. Maybe it was sentiment or the pure rage of injustice. She assumed incorrectly, but resonated with his emotions regardless. “I am sorry to hear they took them from you. I am sure they are out there somewhere looking for their owner.”

“I hope that they are, but they were not too strong. I doubt they could accomplish that feat on their own.” He shot down the possibility in an instant. Cocole already knew the pain of getting his hopes up with that kind of talk. The Port Authority and thus the Argentian government took his stones, and they were certainly depleted by now.

“Oh, so they were keygemin then?” Temora now better understood his pain. Depending on how long he had them, it would be no less painful than losing three pets on the same day. It could have been even more emotional still. “I didn’t know you were a keygemite.” She was still curious, but wanted to move on from bringing up the loss.

“They were. I learned how to set with my mom. She was a big name in carnivals and festivals where I grew up; in Lusteria. We never had a real home that wasn’t an aero, and we went through a couple of those because we leased them. I never met my dad, but I heard he was famous. He never took responsibility for... uh... me, you know.” Cocole returned to resting his head on his thumbs.

“My mom would use keygemin in shows. Showing off some amazing abilities and forms. The carnival group had so many unique keygemin. There was this one I remember, that would reform itself into geometric shapes. Then reappear inside containers. It blew snow onto the audience. I was always upfront when mom was going to be on stage, so I always got covered by the snow.” His eyes lit up as he reminisced about the stage show. He might have even smiled a little.

“That does sound incredible.” Temora leaned into the conversation. Although Argentis was mountainous, none of them were snowcapped. It was hot at the end of the year. Just after, during the coldest six weeks, during the blue grads, the weather was mild. Temora had never seen snow. “Does it snow in Lusteria?” she pried for more information.

“No... and I think that is what made it special for us too.” Cocole clasped a locket that was around his neck. She could tell from its appearance alone, that it was a gift from his mother. A guy with his attitude would not wear an accessory with that floral a style without it having sentimental value.

“The rest of the barracks is starting to get ready, it must be dimset.”

The three of them returned to the compartment and quickly fixed up their bunks before the windows would go dark. They got halfway into tucking their bedsheets under before the sirens began to sound. Cocole damned this blast from the klaxons. Then instantly, the light coming in from the compartments many windows snapped into darkness. This left them holding the corners of their relative bedsheets. At least their commanding officer wouldn’t be coming in to check.

For the three of them, this marked the penultimate day of their extensive training. The rest was all coursework and standardized testing. All three of them were prepared for the final day of work. Even Cole, who didn't test well, had the best tutors possible next to him. The three of them were destined to succeed.