ZIFORAH

By Juliette A H Cavendish

ZIFORAH: In The Beginning. Book One. October 2020. Illustrated.

Ziforah is a series of five illustrated science fiction books, which will be written between 2020 and 2024 by Juliette A H Cavendish. Written for young adult readers, (11+) the first book has been dedicated to the children of the world who are in lockdown from the Covid19 Pan

• Language: English
• Publisher: London Red Publishing
• Release date: Oct 28, 2020
• ISBN: 9780648853039

Juliette A H Cavendish

Juliette Cavendish was born in Liverpool UK and is of Welsh and Norwegian heritage. Juliette has an interest in Artificial Intelligence and writes in both Science Fiction and Contemporary Fiction genres. She is the President of the Australian Science Fiction Foundation.She is an international award winning photographer, having won awards in Paris, Moscow, Hong Kong, Sydney and New York. Her photography can be found at www.juliettecavendishphotography.com.​Juliette runs Science Fiction Australia, www.sciencefictionaustralia.com, an organisation that aims to promote and support Science Fiction globally. Juliette will soon be hosting a new podcast series which will promote science fiction. 'Juliette Speaks Sci-Fi.'Juliette holds a Bachelor of Music and Education degree from the Sydney Conservatorium of Music, Sydney University. A Masters in Education specialising in Research Methodologies with distinction from CSU & a PhD in Metaphysics from IHMS in which she graduated with High Distinction. She also holds professional certificates in Astrophysics, Indigenous Reconciliation, Holistic Counselling, NLP, Meditation and Health. She is now completing a Certificate with Harvardx, studying Einstein.​She can can be found @jahcavendish on her brand new twitter account. She also enjoys writing poetry.Juliette has been engaged in a number of positions during her career. Originally starting out as a classical musician, Juliette held a number of positions as an orchestral clarinettist, composer and bassoon teacher. She wrote a newspaper column in theatre/music reviewing and has written for regional newspapers in music and political journalism. She was a regular guest on ABC morning breakfast radio, has been engaged writing federal political campaign speeches, and taught English in senior high schools. She was employed as a mental health coach in 2011 and has been appointed to Regional Health Boards and was Deputy Director of a regional Chamber of Commerce Board. Juliette worked with the Australian composer Dulcie Holland for six years and is currently collating this material for a book release in 2022. She was endorsed as a Federal Political Candidate in her thirties and gained a valuable skill set in public speaking, speech writing and political policy development.​Juliette currently acts as a writing mentor for new authors, speaks regularly in the areas of Cyber-Bullying, global children's literacy and Climate Change. She holds a special interest in Artificial Intelligence.​​​

Book preview

ZIFORAH

ZIFORAH

In The Beginning

Juliette A H Cavendish

London Red Publishing

This novel is a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2020 by Juliette A H Cavendish.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Ziforah: In The Beginning. Book One.

First Paperback and Ebook Edition. October 2020.

Book cover & internal illustrations by ikaruna.

ISBN Paperback 978-0-6488530-6-0

ISBN Ebook 978-0-6488530-3-9

Published by London Red Publishing

http://www.ziforah.com

http://www.juliettecavendish.com.au

http://www.creativewritingworkshop.com.au

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Contents

1. The Most Excellent Day

2. Meteor Silver

3. Pi Modules

4. Cherry Pie

5. The Hall of Choices

6. Flying Flamingo

7. Flight Day

8. Wormholes and Rabbits

9. Diamond Mountains

10. The Fountains of Lumebrs

11. Blonde-Bun

12. The Ranking Ceremony

13. Medusar

14. Soul Hub

15. Warp Speed

16. Ziplots are Green

17. The Universe is a Cushion

18. The Edge of The Universe

19. The Space Inbetween

20. Scream

21. The Wafer Machine

22. The Dark Side of Froid

23. Capture

24. Zian’s Reveal

25. Are You a Droid?

26. Telepathy

27. Tunnels of Platinum

28. Giganticus and Cake

29. Black Ramlarts

30. Pursuit

31. Coordinates. The Edge

32. Time. Behind. Infront

33. The Abandoned

ABOUT

Ziforah.com

ZIFORAH GLOSSARY

Other Books

Jemima x and Lulu x

This book is dedicated to all the children of the world who are in lockdown from the pandemic. Ziforah is written for you. A place to escape to and experience more adventures that you could ever imagine.

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The most excellent part of the day for some, is bedtime.

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A book, a torch and pretending to be asleep when someone approaches. Special time, where words leap from dimly lit pages.

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Ziforah is a tale for toes that wriggle with anticipation when opening the cover to a new adventure. It’s for those that sigh when unfolding the corner of a carefully marked page, eager to pick up where they left off.

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Ziforah is a story for those that look up from a book, unaware that hours having past since they entered their adventure.

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Enjoy.

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1

The Most Excellent Day

Edrice leapt out of bed. She grinned at her thirteen-year-old reflection in the bedroom mirror, having forgotten how different she now looked. Her face was now perfectly framed by a new birthday bob, that featured a blunt and undeviating fringe that was doing parkour along her forehead. She glanced over to her wall, where a torn and tatty calendar hung crookedly from a small, silver nail. She raced over to it, releasing the pink flamingos from her pyjamas in the process. They fell into a jumble, grunting like small pigs, rather than exotic long necks. Then, still surprised by their rather hasty morning release, they formed a tight, pink pod, and ran from her room to somewhere else, looking right and then left, as if crossing a busy road.

She carefully drew the final cross, using an orange felt-tip pen that was attached to the calendar by a long piece of string. Finally, the crosses had arrived at the Most Excellent Day, which was actually going to be the best day in all of time. She stepped back and admired her work, which had been no easy feat when writing on something that was hanging vertically on a wall. Several rows of perfect crosses, all exactly the same size, colour, and density, achieved from careful, pen pressure accuracy. Twenty-seven neat, mandarin scented crosses, all culminating towards this exceptionally important square. One which had been outlined in small, pea-green dots.

If Edrice had to describe herself, she thought she might have used descriptors such as punctual, precise, meticulous and punctilious. A word that she loved rolling around in her mind. She also thought she was exacting but never clumsy, flighty, or dishonest. Yes, that was a good start to a list, but not the full list, because her mind was too preoccupied and excited about this Most Excellent Day.

The old paper calendar, dating from 2006, had arrived with the bonus of a mandarin-scented felt-tip pen hanging from it by a piece of string. It had been discovered by her parents in a small, dimly lit shop that sold ancient things. The cluttered shop was full of abandoned items that rarely saw any visitors. In one corner was an old clock that had once featured moving hands, fuelled by battery power. In a central box was a pile of toys made from real wood. Near the window, was a black square box, that had once beamed television from its screen. Overhead, on high shelves, were lamps that had emitted light from the insides of glass bulbs. New was in though, and old was out, especially if not technologically advanced. Boring old stuff was destined to collect dust in the shop - except for this particular calendar, that was.

Her mother had spotted the calendar under a cracked aquarium which had once trapped small fish, destined to swim in rectangles around brightly coloured plastic coral. Her mother had made a bit of a scene after spotting the calendar, according to her father. He recounted the event to Edrice with a solemn tone in his voice, as fathers sometimes do. When he used his serious tone, Edrice knew that something important had happened, so it was worth stopping and actually listening to him, which apparently, she didn’t always do.

He told her that her mother had become quite rosy-pink flushed, after having spotted the calendar. She had excitedly pointed at something and had tried to speak, only all that had come out of her mouth were long, screechy-squawking noises. Then she had waved her arms around a lot. Her father had looked as if he were drowning when he’d demonstrated that bit. This drowning action and the combined squawking had made the old wizard who owned the shop, think that her mother needed urgent medical assistance. The subsequent scene was not pretty, with Edrice’s father having to convince him that her mother was indeed just expressing happiness and didn’t need to be saved from choking. Most disappointingly, he’d turned out not to be a wizard at all, just a man with a very long, overgrown beard. Her father had grimaced at his recollection, adding that he’d also noted several pieces of food stuck in the wiry mess suspended from the man’s face.

Edrice had stared at her father after he had completed his recount of the events, earnestly wishing that her parents could become more normal. Given their now advancing ages, late thirties at least, she had almost lost hope concerning any further improvement in their actions outside of their living dome. She thanked him profusely for the calendar, acknowledging the trauma that they had experienced in purchasing it for her.

It was a fantastic find though, she had to agree. This month was called June 2006 and displayed two small fluffy kittens in a funny pose. Each month featured a motivational statement, such as be the one that does it, and Edrice had. She had been the one to do it. Her name had been drawn out of millions of other names in the lottery. Not the boy next door who threw shock waves over the fence when he thought no-one was looking. Or that awful girl from ballet-ball who had deactivated Edrice’s levitating point shoes in the middle of her flying scene. Not even the boy from her class who had cloned her cat Neptuna, twenty-four times, and had given one as a gift to every member of her class. The girl who always stole her numbers in maths class and locked them in her calculator, hadn’t been chosen either. Their names hadn’t been drawn out. HERS had. She looked at herself in her mirror and grinned again, swishing her bob from side to side, which seemed the least she could do.

She touched the calendar with the tips of her fingers. It was smooth and cool to the touch. She leaned forward and sniffed the unusual smell. She wasn’t sure if it was the paper she was smelling or the old wizard’s shop? She broke the smell down into something that resembled musty, smokey and perhaps a bit of smelly feet? She couldn’t be sure. Or maybe it smelt like one of the relics of food that the old wizard had stored in his beard?

That was gross, she thought, trying to place the smell. Thirty-day-old toast? Or perhaps a bit of spag bol that had got lost in there? Maybe he had done a gigantic sneeze one day? No, that last one was too horrid to contemplate. Either way, it really didn’t smell very nice at all. Her nose needed respite, so instead, she sniffed the orange crossed squares and smelt fresh mandarins, which made her think of breakfast and how hungry she was.

She ordered breakfast on her menu pad, pressing the surprise button by accident, in addition to her favourites. After breakfast, the Most Excellent Day would then properly start. She turned back to the calendar one last time, knowing that having something made from real paper in her bedroom was a rare treat. Nothing new was made from paper anymore, given all the trees had been chopped down on Earth hundreds of years ago. Air was now generated and filtered using black atmospheric filtration units, anchored in the sky like stationary, rectangular birds. This new technology had resulted in trees being unnecessary for converting Earth’s carbon dioxide into oxygen. Their absence was justified, as the colour green wasn’t overly popular anymore, either.

Edrice turned to look at her winning ticket, which she had placed onto her ‘important stuff’ shelf. White glossy plastic, with raised silver stripes that felt bumpy to touch. The writing was in a talking black font, and there was a gold star in one corner. When pressed, it would levitate from the ticket and zoom around the room, showing off, before returning. Sometimes, the ticket would speak, using a variety of funny voices, reminding Edrice that she had won. Winning that ticket had meant everything to her.

The retro-calendar was out of place though, in a house bursting with new technology. Edrice’s father, Mudi, was a techno-visionary as he proudly liked to refer to himself as. Having been born on Verisium in Quadrant One, he was genetically inclined to be fascinated with all things technology based. He also dressed weirdly - in Edrice’s opinion, that is. His long, thin frame wore the same outfit every single day. A black turtle-neck jumper, matched with blue jeans and retro-sneakers. Apparently, it was a tribute to a man who had made apples into computers, or something like that, a very long time ago. Edrice, when she was little, had tried to do the same with a bag of pears in the kitchen, and had produced a big squashy mess which hadn’t resembled a computer at all.

The minute that something new was released, Mudi would rush to buy it, priding himself in having the latest of everything. As a result, their home-dome looked like a giant brain, with wires going everywhere, lights that flashed, and buttons that beeped. Everything seemed to be automated, artificial intelligence ruled, and no-one could walk anywhere without getting tangled up in something that was attached to something else.

Mudi had purchased an ‘Information Wall’ the minute they had been released, queuing online for thirteen hours, to be one of the first to own one. Then he had installed it in a really silly place. Well, Edrice thought it was ridiculous, complaining that every time she had to walk into the kitchen, she now had to walk through a wall of news. Her mother, Apolla, had agreed, arguing that walking through such disconcerting stories each day, when all she wanted to do, was make herself a cup of tea, had made her auras feel quite off. Her body felt like it was being covered in layers of dysfunction, she had said. Her father had suggested helpfully, that she could take a steam shower perhaps, to wash away the icky stuff, or maybe wear her spacesuit inside the home-dome for protection? Her mother had glared at him, asking just how many steam showers did he expect her to take in one day and why would she wear a spacesuit inside of their home-dome? He had known not to reply to that look, walking quickly instead, to the other end of the home-dome.

The Information Wall had the latest in empathy appreciation, and was fitted with an artificial brain centre that watched the family, and learned about them. It projected a line of panels, each illuminating dates, the weather, and live coverage of major news events from around known space. Over time, the walls learned how to read the emotional state of the household as they walked through. If they were irritated, it would display a soothing forest scene or a beach, with gentle lapping waves. Too much sitting around doing nothing, and the scene would change into an erupting volcano or a rollercoaster to get everyone up and moving.

Due to the long-standing situation between Edrice and her brother Ceres, the wall chose the tranquil beach scene if they were home. If Edrice had to explain this situation, it was best to say that it was just one of those relationships. The sort that you have when you are thirteen and your brother is eight. Outrightly painful on all fronts, all day, every day. No respite included.

Ainee, the home-dome android, was her father’s latest artificial intelligence purchase. She looked insanely human, aside from having all-purpose rollers where her feet should have been. She rolled in and handed Edrice her breakfast of several colourful cubes, skewered onto a collapsible rodeoite rod. The rods were kitchen practical, in that they could be compacted to insanely small sizes for efficient drawer storage. The cubes were a wobbly, quivering, vibrantly colourful, calorie-rich, engineered food source.

‘Today is the Most Excellent Day, Ainee,’ Edrice said enthusiastically.

‘Yes, today Miss Edrice,’ the android replied, in an even and exact rhythm.

Edrice popped a sky-blue cube into her mouth. It tasted like porridge and blackberries. The second one, white and pink, released flavours of pancakes and strawberry marshmallow ice-cream. The next one was bright orange and exploded in her mouth, dispensing the taste of fresh oranges. It reminded her of the twenty-seven perfect orange crosses, making her feel excited and a little bit nervous at the same time. The fourth one, the surprise she had accidentally ordered, a dark green cube with yellow dots, was disgusting, tasting like spinach and eggs. Edrice hated eggs more than anything else.

‘Why, Ainee? Why do this to me? You know I hate eggs.’ Her face screwed up as she tried to swallow the green and yellow goo. ‘Gross,’ she directed towards her.

‘My pleasure,’ smiled Ainee. ‘Eggs are full of protein, which is good for your growth.’

‘Maybe I’ve already stopped growing?’ Edrice asked.

‘No, you haven’t,’ replied Ainee. ‘You have eight more months before completion of your growth spurt.’

Edrice looked back towards the calendar.

‘Today is the day,’ she whispered to the final, bright orange cross, and then smiled. ‘I did it,’ she said, remembering that she had aimed for this day, for as long as she could remember.

Ainee rolled away to be useful to another member of the household.

The ticket had been won through a stringent selection process, not too complicated to be explained, however. Firstly, you had to be aged between eleven and eighteen. Secondly, you had to have been born on planet Earth, and one of your parents had to be full-human. Edrice was lucky, as although her father had been born on Verisium in Quadrant One, her mother was Earthborn. To most people, it was apparent that Edrice wasn’t entirely human, just by looking at her facial features. However, no-one ever said anything to her face, as that would have been rather rude.

You had to have completed at least FLE1 - First Level Education and have written an essay about why you wanted to be a Ziforah Cadet. Then, you could have your name entered into the Annual Ziforah Lottery Draw. Some people in each intake had completed FLE2 and FLE3 as well. You then had an equal chance at being given one of a hundred tickets, which enabled you to sit the Ziforah tests at their annual testing day. It was the most converted ticket on the planet. The hardest entrance test to pass and had the most fantastic prize at the end… and Edrice had a ticket to sit the tests in her possession!

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At ten in the morning, exactly twenty-seven days ago, the sun had shone with warmth and hope. The day of the Annual Ziforah Lottery Draw was always a fantastic event. It was transmitted live into all class craniums - heads for short. Students at Edrice’s school paused their studies to engage with the streaming, each secretly hoping that someone from their school would win a ticket, because then they would get the day out of class to celebrate. Even their teachers celebrated the day by dressing up, some with silly hats with tickets plastered all over them and others in space-themed costumes. The mood for the Annual Ziforah Lottery Draw was always happy and festive. Students would bring in celebratory food such as moon juice, robot fingers and dark-matter biscuits for the after-party, just in case someone won. One hundred names would be randomly drawn out of the air pile, by the very glamorous lottery android, Miss Picky-fingers. Then, one hundred Hopefuls, as they would then be known, would be eligible to attend testing day.

Edrice had been sitting in maths class, working out the actual odds of winning a ticket, given she knew how many names had been entered. She had only done this because she needed to concentrate on something else. She had felt she was going to throw up her breakfast cubes from her nervexcitedness. Vomiting on her peers, turning them various shades of green would amount to social death however, so she was hoping that she wouldn’t. Her probability result for winning had been less than encouraging and somehow she had ended up with a point three in her calculation.

She rounded it down, sensibly and precisely, so that the odds were more applicable for a whole person. She figured though that one hundred whole Hopefuls had to be chosen, and all had an even chance of being picked. So, it may as well be her, she deducted. She closed her eyes to engage and watch the draw, requesting that the dancing rhinos made of solid stone that had taken up residency in her stomach, calm themselves.

The event was streamed through Integrated Engagement Technology. It required a chip, which had been a painless insertion in her upper arm. Once activated, you could walk around in a large number of interactive virtual realities, such as shops, concerts, zoos, sports games and parks. You could even walk through movie sets and meet actors after they had finished acting their scenes. All done with your eyes shut, sitting wherever you happened to be. The new software was called Engagement 3000 and had left the previous integrated software for dead. Right now though, Edrice was in a massive arena with an endless number of seats, all filled with students from everywhere, equally as hopeful as she was. There was an air flurry and then an announcement. The draw was about to begin!

The Ziforah Testing Day was an opportunity to win a place at the Ziforah Space Cadet Academy on the planet Ziforah, the fourteenth planet in the solar system beyond the Centauri Three. Cadets were made to sign confidentiality agreements, promising not to discuss what they had seen, learned, or heard on Ziforah. Rumours were rife as to what the Space Academy offered. Each Cadet spent six years in the program, no matter how old they were when they started. This allowed plenty of time for alien contact, learning the secrets of the universe, and undertaking top-secret missions. After graduation from the Space Academy, Cadets went on to join space exploration teams, space security firms, advise space agencies, and were held in high esteem everywhere they went.

Edrice firmly believed in the law of attraction. So, after having sat there begging and pleading with the law, on this day, it dutifully obliged her wish and had granted her a ticket. Hers was chosen as number forty-seven out of a hundred. Edrice hadn’t quite believed it when she had heard her name read out and had walked to virtually shake the hologram hand of the Ziforah official, feeling prouder than she had ever felt. Afterwards, her classmates had celebrated by feasting on all the food they had prepared. Her school social status was now firmly entrenched in superhero level, just the way Edrice liked it.

2

Meteor Silver

Edrice’s father Mudi, was a robotics expert. He had taught her how to design and build robots from an early age. Apolla, her mother, was a mathematician, and had designed algorithm problems for her to solve as soon as she could count. In addition, her parents had enrolled her into holiday intensives, such as Build a Spacecraft, Advanced Genetics, Know Your Monsters and How To Read A Mind. Edrice had been raised to live, eat, think, and play Ziforah.

The Ziforah testing day was going to be long. Her parents had both taken time off work, in order to fly her into the testing centre, located in the city. Apolla had over-dressed for the drop-off, justifying her elaborate attire as necessary to create a good impression. Edrice had looked at her mother’s outfit in dismay. She wondered how a headpiece that changed from one yellow hue to another, paired with a red-spotted body-suit, and insanely high, feathered heels had any relevance to the testing day, or to each other.

‘I may bump into other potential Cadet parents,’ Apolla had said, before applying another layer of scarlet and gold lipstick, smacking her lips together and then dabbing with a silk pat cat. It licked its lips, also now coloured scarlet and gold and started to purr.

‘You could just drop me off at the entrance?’ Edrice had asked, hoping that she didn’t have to attract attention to herself by walking in with a mother who resembled an exotic bird and her father, who resembled the ancient apple man.

‘We should see you right to the door, darling. Make sure you get in okay.’ Apolla had inhaled deeply above her wrist, breathing in the sweet aroma of her pheromone perfume, designed to create a good impression wherever one went.

‘Just divine,’ she had groaned, exhaling dramatically, secretly hoping that she would be seen by everyone, and deemed a stand-out as a potential Ziforah mother. Edrice had nodded with worry, knowing that her entrance would indeed label her as the girl with the mother, who owned that headpiece.

Both of her parents acted weirdly in the flying pod, and Edrice had to put her sound seeds into her ears to subdue her father’s bad jokes and her mother’s over-zealous laughing as they had taken off. Her mother’s laughing was causing the headpiece to glow green at times, lighting up the car as if they were all on the planet Shamrock. Ceres refused to be nice to her all the way to his school drop-off, claiming that she was getting special stuff, and he wasn’t, and so she had sent him a quick shove in the ribs when her parents weren’t looking. This had caused a sensational melt-down, specific to eight-year-old boys, which had momentarily planted a broad smile on Edrice’s face, missed of course, by her chattering parents.

‘You’ve got this Edrice, you know that,’ Mudi had eyeballed her in the mirror sometime later.

‘What?’ Edrice had asked, taking off her mathematical holographic kit, trying to do some last-minute study.

He raised his voice as if she were at the back of a cavernous space. ‘I said, Edrice. You got this, and I’m proud as a Saffire bird finding a pp and an h. We’ve worked hard for this - you, me and the robots… your mother and the team of numbers. You’ll be fine!’

‘Yeah, thanks,’ she had replied. ‘You don’t need to shout. I’m just in the back seat.’

‘Edrice, I hope you aren’t going to say ‘what’ during the tests. It’s not appropriate for a potential Cadet.’ Her mother frowned at her via the mirror.

‘No, of course not,’ she replied, putting the seeds quickly back into her ears. She tapped on her air-avatar to peruse the day’s gruelling agenda. Mathematical Pi Equations first, followed by the neural wiring test. This one was rumoured to be tricky because you had to think out a story based on a prompt, and whatever you thought, was transcribed by a testing computer. You needed to keep your thoughts focused and clear. Many a Hopeful had been nervous and had written a story full of their own insecurities and fears instead. Science would be next in the robotics labs, requiring her to build a robot. She would have one hour to make one, and then five minutes to demonstrate that it did what had been requested. Lunch was provided after that, followed by a meditation pod break, rumoured to be one of the most amazing experiences this side of Helios. Then it was all on again in the afternoon, with individual psychology testing which was going to be done with the Psych Droids, a team of elite androids that fired off questions at Ziforah Hopefuls which analysed strengths, weaknesses, honesty, and suitability for the Academy Ranks.

She had struggled with what to wear, not knowing if it was better to dress like a science nerd or try to look subdued-cool. Too cool though, and she might look like she wasn’t serious about it all. Too nerdy, and she might seem well… nerdy. She needed to give the impression of being smart but friendly. A Hopeful that could demonstrate leadership as well as be a good team player. Her final choice of clothes, combined with her new hair-style, was fashion that screamed cool, creative and clever… she hoped. She looked at herself in the mirror. Plain white t-shirt, aluminium jeans and new black Ba-Ba shoes, which contoured her feet in soft fabric and adapted to whatever terrain she was walking on. She grabbed her jelly-jacket too, one which could warm up or cool down, depending on the outside temperature. She completed her look with a blue zinging aura, being careful to precisely match it to the blue colour in the Ziforah coat of arms.

Welcome androids, who looked a lot like Ainee, were lined up outside the testing centre in a hovering formation. Their job was to welcome Hopefuls and parents, as well as outline the rules for the day. They informed her parents that Edrice had to enter the actual testing zone by herself. They could stay in the foyer as she checked in, but were not to follow her through the red set of entrance doors. Her parents were disappointed, but soon discovered other parents who were milling and feeling equally as abandoned in the foyer. Mudi and Apolla eagerly approached them to compare how nervous they all were for their children. Conversations soon turned into a bidding match as to how one child was more competent than another.

‘Well, my daughter was fluent in five solar languages even before she could speak engglishe,’ said one mother nonchalantly, as if it were the norm.

‘Really?’ had replied a surprised Mudi, ‘I’m so impressed.’

Apolla had shot him a don’t you dare praise another child look, before telling everyone how Edrice had proven herself to be a mathematical genius by the age of three. Another mother interrupted her.

‘We only just made it back for today. We’ve been away for six weeks doing a moon cruise, luxury class, of course. So exhausting, doing mostly nothing every day,’ smiled a well-dressed woman. ‘Pottricia-Panna-Poopi-Po studied every day of course, even giving up the theatrical moon landings.’

Apolla inwardly shook her head, wondering if ‘4P’ would have been a kinder way to have stated her daughter’s name.

‘Well, my son was programming droids before he could write,’ said a man, wearing all white.

That one hadn’t been believed by anyone, and they all smiled awkwardly at one another, secretly wishing that each other’s child forgot how to answer all of the questions.

‘Well, good luck to all of us, and I hope your child is as successful as ours,’ smiled Apolla to the group, hoping that all of their children left before lunchtime. She kept the smile on her face until she was far enough away, not to be seen. Then she leaned into Mudi and said in a conspiratorial tone, ‘I don’t think they stand a chance against Edrice, do you?’

Mudi went to say something, but she had already turned away and was animatedly speaking with someone else.

Edrice was okay with going in alone through the red doors. Still, some Hopefuls were becoming anxious and clingy, running out after their parents. Edrice didn’t mind, thinking it a bit immature. She reasoned that the more Hopefuls that left, the better her chance of getting a place. This wasn’t a time to get all soft and squishy, as only thirty Hopefuls would make it through.

‘See you later,’ she had said to her parents, who had become teary-eyed and overwhelmed with parent pride upon hearing the commencement announcement. ‘Go do some shopping or something.’ Edrice had called after them, ‘by the way… your head thingy… it seems to be like changing colour more often.’

Apolla’s headpiece was rapidly changing from green to yellow. All it needed was a bit of red to make her mother look like one of those old traffic lights that couldn’t make up its mind whether it was starting or stopping the traffic.

‘It senses and relates to my deepest emotions,’ called back her mother, rather dramatically.

Her father’s exit pace had quickened at Edrice’s shopping suggestion though, and his eyes dried. He had some new patches for his personality improvements that he wanted to buy. Edrice took one last look as her mother ran after her father, her headpiece now flashing bright red, as if an emergency were taking place. She turned to face the entrance doors. This was the starting moment of the Most Excellent Day and everything she now did, would be watched and evaluated.

Edrice walked into a large waiting room, containing a throng of a hundred Hopefuls just like her. There were auras of every colour and clothes of every fashion. Some had dressed up in extravagant attire hoping to get noticed, and others down, keeping it simple. The androids asked them to keep moving forward, ‘through the blue doors please,’ and to take a seat once they got into The Hall of Possibility. She made sure to keep her head high and shoulders back as she knew that the minute she walked into the hall, that the eyes of the watchers would be everywhere. She needed to stand out now, even before she had started the testing, and being sure of herself was an excellent way to start.

She followed the line into the hall, seeing the eyes of the watchers floating amongst the Hopefuls, but immediately felt disorientated. Where were the chairs to sit on? She looked down at her feet and saw framed pictures that would typically be on a wall. She tried not to step on the glass frames as she turned around, trying to work out the scene surrounding her. Turning to her right, she saw rows of chairs, fixed to the wall. How was she supposed to sit in one of those? It was as if everything in the hall had been turned ninety degrees to the right. She appeared to be standing on the left wall, the ceiling from what she could make out was on her left and the floor with all the chairs on her right. She steadied herself, mentally and physically. This was most likely a reaction test to see how quickly she could adapt to something unusual.

Again, the androids requested that the Hopefuls sit down on the chairs and the eyes watched carefully, to see what the Hopefuls would do. Edrice looked around at the others, some of whom looked perplexed and were shaking their heads and shrugging their shoulders at each other. Others were trying to climb the chairs on the wall and were sliding off. Edrice waited. She knew not to walk to the wall to sit down, as it wouldn’t be physically possible to sit, and so she stood her ground, waiting for a resolution to the problem. An eye with fluttering long lashes and pink sparkles, floated towards her and watched her for a few seconds. Then it sped off to see what the next Hopeful was doing.

Suddenly, there was a dull thud and a clicking sound as the room started to shift from under her feet. Edrice stretched out her arms for balance, as the room appeared to be turning back to its normal position. She stepped her feet in small movements to inch her way to the right. She could hear panicking behind her and Hopefuls falling down. She needed to keep calm, though. Just shuffle her feet, inch by inch, and close her eyes because the movement was throwing her off balance. There was a final loud click, and then the room shuddered to a stop. She opened her eyes and could see rows of chairs now in front of her. The ceiling lights were now above, and to her left, were neat rows of photos of previous Ziforah Cadets, all proudly smiling in their blue uniforms.

The watching eyes, having completed their first observations were now all lined up down the side of the hall, awaiting their next instructions.

She walked to the front of the hall and chose a middle seat in the fourth row from the front. Not too close as to feel exposed to the officials who would present, but close enough so that she could see their faces clearly. Sitting down, she clasped her hands onto her lap and stared straight ahead.

‘Psst,’ whispered a voice from her right. She ignored it, as becoming distracted now, wasn’t the best decision.

‘Psst, hey,’ whispered the voice again.

She looked to her right, and sitting a few seats down was a girl who looked a little older. She instinctively raised her eyebrows at the all-pink outfit. Pink pigtails, pink rotating ruffle top, pink leggings, pink aura, and pink bouncing shoes. Immature at best, she thought.

‘That’s a lot of pink,’ she said to the girl.

‘Yeah, I love pink,’ the girl had smiled. ‘Makes me feel happy.’

There was a pause. Edrice didn’t want to get distracted by Pink-Girl. Now was the time for being sensible and attentive.

‘Psst. This is cool, isn’t it?’ whispered the girl again.

Edrice turned her head. ‘Yeah, cool as,’ she said with a hint of sarcasm.

‘How did you go with the rotating bit?’ Pink-Girl asked.

‘Fine, thanks. You?’ Edrice whispered back, trying to be polite, but not committed to the conversation.

‘Yeah, it was fun… aside from the eye that bumped into me. Hey, do you think the rumours are true?’ Pink-Girl asked, leaning forward conspiratorially.

‘What rumours?’ asked Edrice puzzled.

‘You know…’ replied Pink-Girl, lowering her voice until it was almost inaudible.

‘No, I don’t actually,’ Edrice said sighing, already tired of the dramatic tone of Pink-Girl. She was trying to calm down, not get all excited about random rumours.

‘That there’s something brewing on Ziforah. I’ve heard it might be really big,’ said Pink-Girl, raising her eyebrows, her face frozen with an expression of shock and awe.

‘What? Like a giant teapot in orbit around Ziforah, perhaps?’ suggested Edrice, sarcastically.

Pink-Girl froze and then giggled. ‘A giant teapot… brewing… and in orbit… that’s funny as.’

Edrice sighed again. It hadn’t meant to be.

‘The thing is…’

Edrice thought through what she knew about Ziforah and hadn’t heard anything. She cut across Pink-Girl and a bit rudely if she was being honest. ‘Rumours I imagine, probably said by a Hopeful who wanted to scare everyone else away,’ she said quite bluntly, wanting to shut the conversation down.

‘Oh, do you think so?’ Pink-Girl sounded disappointed.

‘Yes,’ Edrice replied quickly, wanting to end the conversation. Things were about to start.

‘Hey, I’m Antares, by the way,’ Pink-Girl had spoken again.

‘Antares as in the Scorpius-Red star?’ Edrice was surprised. Antares wasn’t a name that she thought went with any hue of pink. ‘I’m Edrice,’ she added, trying to at least be conversation-polite.

‘Oh, don’t be fooled by all the pink,’ laughed Antares, shaking her head and smiling, ‘Watch this.’

She reached up into her left sleeve, and pressed something. Suddenly, she was in blue clothing and her hair was no longer in pigtails. Instead, it was biscuit brown, short at the sides and a bit longer on top. A bit of hair fell gently over one of two, large brown eyes. Antares was now a mature-looking fifteen-year-old boy, she guessed.

‘I can make my blue aura match the coat of arms too,’ he said, hoping to impress her, and get a smile out of her.

Edrice forced a smile. ‘Good trick,’ she said, not wanting to sit near someone who had copied her aura colour.

‘I know, right?’ beamed Antares, and then added, ‘good luck by the way,’ changing his aura to yellow. He moved off to sit a few more rows behind her, to talk to someone else.

The