How can a technophobe be expected to perform technomancy?
I follow the directions on my map app, surprised when it leads me away from the main building and towards the forest. I frown at the old, unused dorm building as I pass it, not able to shake the sketchy feelings it gives me. I continue walking along the edge of the forest until it thins out, revealing a lush, green field filled with flowers. A woman whom I assume to be the teacher is sitting crossed-legged on the ground, looking like she is meditating. Did I stumble into an earth class by mistake? A few other students who I recognise, but haven’t spoken to, are hovering around looking as unsure as I am.
“Sit down, class,” she calls softly, not opening her eyes, or moving from her meditation position. We all sit awkwardly around her in a lose semi-circle. Someone sits closely behind me, I turn around and catch Enzo’s dark eyes staring daggers at me.
“What’s your problem?” I mutter.
“You. Thanks to you, I now have an extra class on Saturday, just because they don’t trust you without a babysitter. I already passed all three years’ worth of exams for this stupid class, and now I’m stuck taking it from the beginning again,” he replies bitterly.
“Wait, how did you manage to complete all three years’ worth already?” I ask.
“I’ve already completed three of my classes, I’m in an advanced class for another five,” he snaps. “What, surprised I’m not just good looking?”
“You’re good looking?” I ask, forcing a surprised, questioning tone into my voice. He scowls and gestures his hand forward.
“Just turn around and pay attention,” he snaps.
“Sure, whatever. I’m just going to pretend that you’re not here,” I answer sweetly.
“And, I’ll pretend that I’m anywhere but here,” I hear him comment as I turn back around to face the teacher. The teacher must be in her late thirties, but she isn’t dressed like it at all. A mixture of punk rock chick and hippy vibes shining through from her choice of attire. Her bright, bubble-gum pink-coloured hair is in bunches, with several beads and other accessories woven in with bright fabrics. A pair of aviator sunglasses sit atop her head, and thick, beaded bracelets cover up both of her arms.
She opens her eyes, and I’m surprised by the mismatched pair that stare right at me knowingly, as if she could feel my inspection. One eye is a shade of murky brown, and the other a sky blue.
“Welcome class to your first lesson of Technomancy, my name is Miss Arthur,” she says softly, her voice tranquil. Although she’s speaking to the whole class, I feel as if she is talking directly to me. “Now, I know a few of you must be feeling confused, bewildered even. How will we learn the basics of technomancy without any technology? These are questions every beginner student has, technomancy has a lot of misconceptions. That those adept at technomancy are all computer geeks is probably the main one. However, I am one of the most proficient in my gift within this country.” She pauses, and I glance around noticing everyone is entranced by her. Other than Enzo, who is smiling slightly while looking up at the sky. “I am one of the most computer challenged people you will ever meet, I can’t even connect my phone to human run WI-FI. Thank the gods that ours connects to all marked devices automatically,” she finishes and smiles at the class, a dazzling white smile. A girl with dark hair, streaked with lighter brown raises her hand from in the front.
“Yes, Miss Wilson?” Miss Arthur asks.
“Then what is technomancy if it’s not all computers? Isn’t technomancy magic in tech?” she asks in a somewhat belligerent voice.
“Technomancy is the use of magic in technology, that is correct. What you have incorrect is how you define technology,” she replies, not the least bit perturbed by the girl’s attitude. “Can anyone here define technology for me?” We all sit silently, nobody wanting to look like an idiot in the first lesson.
“Fine. Enzo, would you be so kind as to define technology for me?” she asks, shooting him a warm smile that crinkles the corners of her eyes.
“Technology is a means to fulfil a purpose,” he answers, as if repeating something he’s heard a thousand times. “Technomancy is the use of magic, in that mean, to fulfil a purpose,” he adds, in the same reciting tone.
“Excellent, thank you, Enzo. Do you have any questions, class?”
Tons. I glance around and see nobody else putting their hand up. Nope, not drawing any more attention to myself.
“Well then, let us begin. First, a brief history of technology, and how technomancy has linked with technology through the years.” I hear Enzo snort behind me. I shuffle back and to the side to sit beside him.
“What’s so funny?” I whisper, as Miss Arthur starts talking about early human, technological advances.
“Brief history,” he says quietly with a smirk. I pull a confused face and he sighs. “She’ll go on about the wonders of technology and technomancy in history for most of your lessons.”
“Oh,” I say softly. Fuck, I always hated history in school.
“It takes her a long time to get to the good stuff,” he says in a hushed tone.
“What’s the good stuff?” I ask, shooting a worried glance to the teacher to make sure she hasn’t noticed us chatting.
“How you put the magic into the mean,” he answers. “It’s like skipping a step. You take the basic, human-created tool, fuel it with magic for the means, and boom, technomancy.”
“I don’t get it,” I mutter, frowning.
“Okay, say you have a human designed phone, but it has no signal where you are because of human technology limitations. You’d use technomancy to boost the signal,” he explains softly.
“Why doesn’t she just say that?” I mutter back.
“Because she likes the sound of her own voice, I think she should have gone into acting personally,” he replies with a grin.
I look back to Miss Arthur, who is still blabbing about the same thing as she was before. I think he might be right. Damn.
“When do we start using magic in this class?” I ask.
“About halfway,” he says.
“That’s not so bad,” I reply.
“Halfway through the year, that is.”
“You have got to be kidding me,” I say. Seeing the serious, commiserative expression on his face says it all.
Looks like I won’t be dealing with my technophobia anytime soon then.
Chapter 11
Kenzie
I zip up my black hoodie and mentally kick myself for not wearing more layers. I walk within the tree line, using the cover to shield me from the sight of the main buildings. The last thing I want to do is get caught out after curfew. Curfew, it’s ridiculous; I’m seventeen, not seven. Like any self-respecting teenager is going to stay inside their dorm. I roll my eyes at the thought and then focus back on the task at hand, getting to the dorm without getting caught.