A class gets punishment.
Our teacher, Miss Downing strode into the room. We all waited. With a quick tug she made the map she always pulled down to keep us from writing on the blackboard, roll up with a rattling snap. She stared.
Picking up her long wooden pointer, she slapped it on the board with a loud crack.
“What is the meaning of this?”
No one spoke. Someone usually did as it went better for the whole class if one of us gave her an answer to any question. She slammed the pointer down on my desktop, making me jump.
“Did you do this?”
I shook my head.
So she went through class questioning all the students who usually liked to do things on the board. Each time the crack of the pointer was followed by the student shaking their head. When Miss Downing finished, she moved to the front of the classroom.
“Since no one will own up to this, all of you will write one thousand words on what this board full of elegance might mean and why. Due tomorrow before class.”
We groaned, but for me it was a matter of form. The rest of the class gathered up their stuff and left.
Foolishly, my team and I had used the board for our invasion plans and forgotten to erase it. That meant there would be no invasion this time because our secrecy was lost. We would be expected back on our asteroid in disgrace tonight.
I shuddered to think of facing the Trimaran upon our return.
“Chances are we will all be condemned to the viscosity mines because of this slip-up,” I said in my own tongue under my breath.
Tapping the beauty mark on the left side of my upper lip, I signaled my team and vanished.