Earth's University of Precedence

by Arioch Starr

Introduction: Part 5 - I’m Here

“What did you want to speak to Rarity about?” Nick asks Twilight as they exit the cool marketplace back into the scorching heat.

“Nothing to interest you.” She replies.

Nick exhales an irritated sigh.

“You know,” he says, “I don’t know what your problem is, Twilight, but you could at least try to act welcoming. I’ve shown you nothing but respect despite your negative attitude. You’re making this much more difficult than it needs to be.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll all be over soon. I only have one more place I need to show you before we go our separate ways."

She leads him up the path along the west side of the university towards a hedge maze at the north-west corner of the grounds. Students and tourists alike were in and out of the maze like coins at a lucky slot machine. The majority of the enterers were teens, laughing and running breathlessly within and around the maze, messing around with each other.

One of the participants rapidly exits the maze in a fit of laughter and falls to his knees. He raises his arms and shouts to the sky at his accomplishment of exiting the maze before his friends. After regaining his breath, he stands back up and shouts back to his friends still navigating the maze, letting them know he’s the first to make it out. He hears a shout back and waits for them to emerge.

“Over there’s the hedge maze.” Twilight indicates. “Something the students signed a petition for almost two years ago.”

The maze escapee somehow hears Twilight’s voice and turns around to find her walking in his direction followed by Nick. He squints in disbelief before walking towards them.

“Twilight?” He greets when nearing. “I thought you didn’t like the race of men?”

“I don’t, Toby.” Twilight promptly responds. “I’m giving him a tour and that’s it.”

“Ha! Good luck to ya, mate. You must have the patience of a saint to put up with that one.”

“I know.” Nick responds. He clasps his hands together and says, “I’ve tried to cleanse her hatred through various means of tranquillity.” He jokes, before adding more seriously, “It’s really starting to take its toll.”

Toby laughs as Twilight stares at him in discomfort. He holds out his hand.

“Name’s Tobias, but people call me Toby for short.”

“Nick.” He takes his hand and gives it a single firm shake.

“Well, newbie, has Twilight shown ya everything yet?”

Twilight answers his question. “Sweet Apple Acres is the last area.”

“Well, look no further.” He turns and points north-west from the university. Nick follows his gaze up to a field of trees a mile or so away atop a taller hill. “Sweet Apple Acres is over yonder. There’s not much to it. Just a bigger farm than the university’s one, run by the Apple family.”

“Apple family?” Nick inquires.

“Ol’ Granny Smith and her grandkids. If you do ever venture up and over, then be sure to try some of their Sweet Apple Cider. It’s well worth the trip, trust me.”

“I’ll be sure to try it out, thanks.” Nick replies, still oblivious to who the Apples were.

“I wish you were around earlier.” Twilight says. “You could’ve saved me a job.”

Before Toby could respond, one of his friends appears from behind and grabs his waist making him jump. She then begins tickling him as he tries to fight her off in fits of laughter. Nick and Twilight stare awkwardly as they do so.

“For God’s sake, Sophie, stop!” Toby shouts wrestling with her hands. “You know I don’t like being tickled!”

“That’s why I do it.” Sophie says with a smile. She stops her tickling antics and alters her straw sunhat so the ribbon hangs down to the side. She then spots Twilight and her expression changes immediately from a smile to a scowl. “What’s she doing here?” She asks Toby in disinclination.

“That’s none of your business.” Twilight replies with the same attitude.

“I wasn’t talking to you!” She shouts back.

“Sophie, what’s wrong with you?” Toby inquires, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“The sight of her, that’s what’s wrong.” She answers with hatred, overemphatically pointing at Twilight.

“Her?” Twilight repeats, her anger rising.

“You do remember what she did to you, right?”

“I told you, it was an accident.” Toby says, trying to calm her down. “Just forget about it.”

“Who are you calling her?” Twilight steps forward.

“Twilight!”

“Just shut up!” Sophie harshly tells her. “I don’t want to hear that whiny voice of yours.”

“I will bite you, Sophie. I will bite you so hard.”

“Whoa, Twilight, chill.” Nick says, stepping in concerned about a fight breaking loose. But he was too late.

“Come on then, you little shit!” Sophie shouts and lunges forwards towards them, Twilight doing the same immediately afterwards.

Toby quickly reacts by swinging his arm across Sophie’s stomach and holds her from lashing out. She struggles to break free from his grasp, shouting and yelling at him to let her go and flailing like a deflating doll being shaken.

At the same time, Nick pounces on Twilight, forcing her into a headlock. He tightly grips her horn to prevent her from using her magic as he holds his own. She tries to forcibly push her whole body upwards to break free of his hold but proved too demanding.

A crowd now gathering to cheer for both parties, Nick shouts to Toby to get Sophie away from Twilight. With strenuous effort, and the help of a few onlookers, he manages to pull Sophie backwards through the crowd and into the maze out of line of sight of Twilight.

“There, she’s gone.” Nick sternly tells Twilight. “Now calm down.”

He feels her strength weaken as her push recedes.

“All right, let me go!” She says, trying to shake loose and still breathing heavily.

Nick loosens his grip and she breaks free, staggering forward. She gently rubs her horn.

“I think you broke it.” She moans.

“You’ll be fine.” He says, standing to his feet. “I didn’t grip that hard.” Then to the crowd, “Nothing to see here, people. Show’s over. Scat!”

As the crowd slowly begins to disperse, Twilight releases a drawn out sigh. Thankful that nothing serious came from that dispute, but too proud to admit it, she begins slowly walking away.

“What was that all about?” Nick asks, walking by her side.

“Nothing.” She whispers.

“It didn’t look like nothing. It doesn’t take nothing to fire someone up by sight alone. Something must have happened. So what did?”

“Just forget it.” She says, her fury slowly rising.

“You almost lost it back there. I’m not going to forget it that easily. Tell me what happened so I can understand.”

“I said forget it!” She shouts.

She quickly breaks into a gallop, leaving Nick standing in her dust. He watches her disappear behind the corner of the building. He rubs the side of his face in despair, unknowing if she’ll be all right alone.

One of the onlookers comes over to assure he’s okay. He tells them he’s fine, breathing deeply and showing a benevolent smile. The stranger nods and walks away, giving him some space. He turns his head up into the sky to see that the sun is just past midday, slowly heading to the western horizon.

Not wanting to dwell on the event for too long, he decides to escape the heat and enter the building, maybe see if Vicky’s returned to the reception. He walks a few steps towards the entrance of the university when a vibration in his pocket startles him and he stops in place. He places his hand on it, wondering what it was. Then he remembers he placed the touchpad that Norma gave him in it. He reaches inside and removes the small pad. He extends it by its metal tips and opens its main screen. A small exclamation mark bounces restlessly in the top right corner of the screen. He taps the notification and a text message pops up on the screen. The blurred characters give him a hard time reading it, and the glare from the sun doesn’t help either. He heads into the shadow of the university and begins extending and withdrawing his arm and, holding it at a distance with which he can read it, begins to.

“Dear Mr. Galluver,” it reads, “we sincerely thank you for accepting us as your university of choice to further your education of MUSIC TECHNOLOGY. We anticipate your stay with us to be a delightful and memorable time in your prolific future. You are now able to move into apartment C-32 on the FIRST FLOOR located in the WEST WING of the university. We once again hope you enjoy your stay with us and thank you for choosing the University of Earth. Edward Hook - Head Principal.”

“First floor.” Nick repeats. He reminds himself that Americans use a different style of floor naming, having the first floor on ground level. “I’ll never get used to that.”

He minimises the pad and places it back in his pocket. He re-emerges from the shade and follows the dirt trail to the back of the university and enters through the emergency doors at the north-western corner, entering the stairwell. He heads through the door directly ahead of him and steps into the corridor. He glances at the door numbers and finds himself in the D section. He power walks through the corridor and out into the inner courtyard. He enters the corridor through the doors to his right and finds himself on his designated corridor.

He walks down the corridor to find his room a few doors away from the entrance he walked through. He grabs the levered handle and pushes down on it. He tries to push open the door but it seems jammed. He tries again with more force. Nothing. He tries again and again, hoping in vane that it would open with every attempt ending in failure.

He reluctantly releases the handle, steps back and stares at the door.

“You have to use your thumb.” A voice told him.

He jumps at the sudden appearance of a young girl standing eerily in the middle of the corridor with her hands behind her back, swaying back and forth from her toes to her heels.

He relieves a sigh, saying, “I wish you wouldn’t do that, Jessica.”

“On the pad.” She says, staring at the little black square underneath the handle where the keyhole should be. “You’re welcome.” She giggles before skipping past him down the corridor and dematerialising through one of the apartment doors.

Nick raises his thumb and stares at it. He places it on the black grid and it begins scanning. The lock quietly beeps and the sound of unlocking comes from the door. Nick releases a sharp laugh as he removes his thumb.

“I can always count on Jessica whenever the need seems fit.”

He opens the door with no trouble and enters his apartment. Like Norma and Mare’s offices, the room is a lot larger on the inside than it appears on the outside but once again stylized differently to suit the purpose of the owner. Nick’s apartment consists of four areas: the living area, the kitchen, the bathroom and the bedroom, all fully furnished and ready to be accommodated. Giving himself a quick tour of the place, he checks each room to gather his bearings.

Closing the door behind him, he immediately enters the living area stretching to the right. The white cushioned sofa sits in the middle of the room, facing the thin television hanging on the protruding wall, and doubles as a makeshift bed for guests. Two peculiarly designed glass side tables have been placed at either side occupied with modern wireless lamps, a silver painted crystal dragon statuette sits on one of the glass tables. Two paintings hang on the wall at either side of the T.V., one of a vase littered with yellow daffodils and the other of playful kittens tormenting a wasp’s nest. The floor is layered with a soft carpet, similar to that in Mare’s office, coloured a dark grey.

Behind the couch was the kitchen. An island counter cuts the kitchen off from the living room leaving one of its sides off for entry. The white freckled countertops reflect perfectly, almost like staring into a mirror. The stainless steel sink, implemented into the counter on the end wall, is so pristine it would glimmer in the moonlight. Underneath and a counter away from the sink a white washing machine was placed under the countertop between cupboards. The basic dark silver fridge-freezer over-towers the counters below at the edge on the back wall. The electrical cooker, placed a counter away from the side of the fridge, had been scrubbed to perfect cleanliness almost as if it was brand new. In the far corner sits a silver toaster next to a microwave positioned diagonally. The tiled flooring had been patterned in a checkerboard fashion, all being over watched by a hanging lantern of glass.

In the opposite corner from the kitchen near the entrance of the apartment was the bathroom. An upright glass shower enclosure stands in the corner with a white enamelled bathtub at its side. On the tiled wall at the side of the shower hangs a handrail for towel placements. On the wall opposite the door sits a porcelain toilet and sink complete with wooden cabinet above, along with a rug below looking snug atop the white vinyl flooring.

Entering the room at the side of the bathroom, the bedroom, Nick finds his rucksack had been placed on the king size bed alongside his neatly folded uniform. He kneels down at the side of the bed and unzips the main pocket on his bag, checking to ensure his belongings are still there. Finding nothing missing, he zips it up and checks the rest of the pockets. He lets out a sigh of satisfaction as everything is still in its rightful place. He glances around the room to uncover its plan.

Across from the bed hangs a large mirror on the wall above a wooden mantelpiece. At either side of the mantel were two shiny bronze pears as decorative objects. Across from the entrance was a small, spacious closet implanted in the wall, easily capable of hanging more than a hundred items of clothing. At the far end corner of the room was a small drawer sitting snugly between the walls. At either side of the bed sits bedside tables, square wooden tops accompanied by a white, cordless telephone next to a desk lamp.

His small tour over, Nick spreads outwards on the bed nudging his bag and uniform out of his way and stretches. He feels the cold steel symbol around his chain slide across his chest and down the side of his neck. He closes his eyes and lays there for a few minutes, thinking about the future he’s so close to achieving; finishing his music technology study, becoming an independent musical producer himself one day, raising enough money to live happily and content, all in the hopes of finding Them. He smiles at these burning desires and positive thoughts.

Then he remembers the promise he made. He sits upright and shimmies over to the telephone. He picks it up and begins dialling the memorable number. He holds it to his ear and waits for the answerer to pick up.

“Hello?” Came the familiar peachy voice from the other side.

“Hello ma. It’s me… I’m here.”