THE ALIEN LANDS
ARCADIA ACADEMY

He did not laugh at her. Cordelia would appreciate that later.

“Eastern Georgia?” Cordelia asked. “I’m sorry I’m not familiar with Earth all that well.”

“I saw you when you transported to the grounds,” the young man said. “Your people gave us beaming technology as a peace offering when you arrived five years ago.”

“Right, I was with my dad when he offered it to the leaders of Earth.” She took a deep breath, “do you know who I am?”

The man smiled at her and shook his head, “No. Come with me, they are expecting you in the main campus.”

He snapped away the napkin that continued the hamburger he was eating and set across the wide green lawn. He didn’t even look back to see if Cordelia was following, which at first Cordelia didn’t, but suddenly being left alone in a strange place was enough to get her moving and running along to catch up.

The green was huge, the size of a half a dozen football fields. It seemed to take forever for them to get across it. The sun was raining down on Cordelia’s neck. It also brought back painful memories of the day the Colonial home world was attacked.

“What is your name?” the young man asked, in a tone that made Cordelia think he really did not want to know what her name was.

“Cordelia.”

“Interesting. Where from?”

“The Colonial system.” Cordelia then shrugged her shoulders and gave it another answer, “Well, formally from the Colonial system.”

“That part I get,” the young man said, trying to suppress a laugh, “where on Earth are you from?”

“Oh, right, Chicago.”

“How old?”

“Seventeen.”

“I’m Damien. Don’t tell me anything else, I don’t want to know. I don’t want to become friends. I’m trying to get up out of here as fast as possible.”

Cordelia had to increase her pace to keep up with Damien. There was something strange about Damien’s face. His posture was straight, but his mouth looked odd, even by human standards. Maybe he had some surgery done to him in his youth that caused him to look like this. Cordelia did not want to pry into Damien’s personal business.

But despite his strange appearance, Damien had an air of confidence that made Cordelia wanted to be his friend. Confident people seem to bring out the strong side of her personality. He was obviously one of those people who knew what he wanted out of life --- he was naturally in control of himself always, where Cordelia felt like she had to constantly hit the reset button trying to get the outcome that she wanted.

“Excuse me,” Cordelia said awkwardly, “what is this place? Do you live here?”

“You mean here at the academy?” he said airily. “Well, I suppose the answer to that question is yes.” They had reached the far side of the lawn. “If you call it living. I feel like I have a full-time job here. The only thing about it, we don’t get paid, yet.”

Damien led Cordelia through a gap in a tall hedge and into a bright, labyrinth. The bushes had been recently trimmed as the corridors that opened into various buildings that led to various parts of the campus. If you were a new student at the academy, you could easily get lost trying to find your way out of it. They past the water fountain that had the statue of their greatest performer John Kline displayed.

It was a good five minutes before they made it out of the maze. Cordelia hated it as the maze had reminded her of the time she got lost in the bowls of her dad’s cruiser and could not get out. That was the most terrifying eight hours of her life. A breeze finally impacted with her skin and made her feel much better.

“The Director will probably be down to get you shortly, “Damien said. “Here’s my advice. Don’t try to look pretty” --- he pointed towards the wooden bench, “that bench got me into the school. Many of us consider it a good luck bench. Try, to look like you belong here, and if I may be so bold, fear can be a dangerous weapon, especially for this school. If you tell him you saw me eating a hamburger from sonic, I will make your life a living hell here. Not that I wouldn’t do that in real life, but if you don’t want to find out, don’t mention the hamburger.”

Damien disappeared back into the maze, and Cordelia sat down like a good little girl on the bench. She stared own between her shiny black interview shoes at the tile work that looked as though it had been custom designed. She admired the tile work and wondered how much did the academy spend to get such impressive tile work done. This can’t be happening to me, she thought lucidly; she thought the words in her mind, but they got no value in the real world around her. She had not experimented with drugs from earth. If she did, the recreational drug known as pot would be right up her alley. She kept looking at the patterns in the tile. They reminded her of the outline of the Colonial System. She was dreaming and if she was, she was praying for the Lords of the Colonial system that she would wake up from this dream and be back in her warm bed back in Chicago.

The silence made her very nervous. As hard as she listens, she did not hear a car, no note of a music experience. She felt like she was in one of those neo-noire movies that are very popular on Earth.

She noticed double doors rattling a few times and then opening. A tall, bald man wearing a black suit with the Arcadia Academy patch strode out into the hallway.

“Good afternoon,” he said. “You would be Cordelia Alldice.”

He spoke very proper, as if he had been trained in speaking for years. His accent was very southern, very Georgia in town. He had a mild, strong face and thin blond hair.

“Yes, sir.” Cordelia had never called an adult – or anyone else --- sir in her life, as former royalty people would bow to her and call her Princess. But she was still learning Earth customs.

“Welcome to Arcadia Academy,” the man said. “I suppose you heard of us?”

“Actually,” she paused and then said, “no” Cordelia said.

“Well, you’ve been offered a Preliminary Audition here. Do you accept?”

Cordelia did not know what to say. This was not one of the questions she had prepared for when she got up this morning.

“I don’t know,” she said, eyes blinking, “I mean I am still trying to get used to Earth’s customs. Trying to figure out what is the appropriate thing to do and say.”

“I am not surprised you feel that way, but that is an answer I can’t accept. I need a yes or a no. It’s just for the Audition,” he added helpfully.

Cordelia had a powerful feeling that if she said no, all of this would be over before the first page of her next grand adventure would be written and she would be back in Chicago on the same street, she was standing on before all of this happened wondering why she felt the rays of the sun on the back of her neck for a second. She was not about to let this opportunity slip through her hands. Not yet.

“Sure, let’s do this,” she said not wanting to sound too eager. “Yes.”

“Outstanding.” He was one of those loud, jolly people whose jolliness did not quite match his physical build. “Let’s go to the audition. My name is Henry Ashman. No jokes because I know how you young people think that if you change a few letters in my last name you get a butt of a joke. Follow me. You’re the last one to arrive, I think,” he then checked the clipboard.

No jokes came to Cordelia’s mind. Inside the house the air condition was running and there was a smell in the air that reminded Cordelia of cheeseburgers for some strange reason. It was soon going to be dinner time and she was wishing she was back in Chicago so she could go to sonic her favorite place to get their burger and tots combo. They hurried through to a room where it took Cordelia a moment for her eyes to adjust. There was a sitting room that had paintings of the greatest artist of our time hanging on the wall, then up several flights of stairs to a heavily-ironed door.

The instant it opened, hundreds of eyes all fixed on Cordelia. This was an auditorium. The room was large and contained hundreds of seats where the audience would sit. There was a stage. In every seat, a serious looking teenager was sitting holding some papers. This was no ordinary classroom and this was no ordinary audition. Famous actor’s portraits were hanging on the wall with a spot that said “ONE DAY, THIS COULD BE YOU.”

Most of the kids were Cordelia’s aged and appeared to mimic the same level of coolness or lack thereof that she had. She noticed there were people from the Colonial system, there were punks with mohawks that nearly made her burst out laughing. She thought that mohawks looked strange and reminded her of the people of the Coldwater System. She saw a group of African-American kids sitting together. A too-tall and muscular guy with black-framed glasses beamed at everyone. A few of the younger boys looked as though they had peed on themselves. One guy was dressed in shorts and a golf shirt while another girl looked as though she escaped from the Earth fairy tale Alice in Wonderland. By the Lords of the Colonial System, Cordelia thought, parents let their kids come to an audition dressed like this? Another was wearing shades which Cordelia thought was odd.

In every seat in the auditorium, there was a thin, blue booklet which contained a scene from various plays written through earth history. It was the very first thing that Cordelia saw as she navigated her way to the first available seat towards the back of the auditorium, she grabbed the booklet, sat down. He thought for a moment he saw Lisa’s face among the crowd, but she turned away almost immediately, and there was no time. She looked to see if she saw Ingle in the crowd, but there were so many students in the room that there was no time to get a good look at all of them. At the front of the room Director Henry Ashman stood.

“All right,” he said. “A few ground rules in place for you all to absorb. You will spend the next forty-five minutes as you study the scene written down on your paper. You will be paired with a student in which you will act out the scene that has been written on your paper. If you need some water or a soda or something to drink, hold your right hand up above your head, like this.” He demonstrated.

“Do not feel like you’re under pressure here. There is no way to study and properly prepare for this audition, though I would go so far to say that if you made it this far in your life experiences have prepared you to make it to this point in your lives. There are only two possible outcomes here. Pass or Fail, and if you pass you will go to the second stage of the Audition. If you fail you will return home with a reasonable alibi and little memory of this experience.

“The audition is going to last for two and a half hours. At the end of this, we’ll see to it that you get some dinner in our luxurious dining hall.”

The Director activated a digital clock. Cordelia then looked at the pages. It was A Midsummer Night’s Dream. She had never read that play and it was ironic that she had to perform scene One.

Cordelia watched the other students study their lines from various plays written throughout human history.

Cordelia hadn’t planned on spending the rest of her afternoon – or morning, or whatever this was – studying a scene of a play she had not read or was familiar with, at an unknown educational institution, in some place in a state she had heard of but never been to. She was supposed to be in Chicago, dealing with rain one moment, snow the next. But she could not dwell on the immediate circumstances she found herself in. She figured that her dad was worried sick for her and that she would catch hell the moment she walked in the house.

Once the forty-five minutes were up, she was paired with someone from California and she performed her scene. She displayed the emotion that the scene had called for. It was an easy scene for her to do. She enjoyed transforming herself into a distinctive character which was something she was good at. Her scene was performed with a breath of emotion that made the auditorium applaud.

Cordelia was one of the first group of students to audition. It lasted all of twenty minutes. She leaned back and watched the remaining students give their auditions. She sat back in the chair and pressed the heels of her aching shoes against the carpeted floor. Cordelia still hadn’t noticed anyone whispering and talking but, men and women who she assumed were instructors were going to every student, whispering something in their ears and noticing that some of the students were crying as they were escorting them out of the room. Cordelia couldn’t help but noticed the dude in the shorts and the mohawk guy were not there.

By that time, the Director of the Academy came into address the room.

“I’m delighted to inform you all that you will be moving on to the next phase of the audition,” he said. “This stage will be conducted one on one by a member of the Arcadia faculty. In the meantime, our dining hall is open and you are free to talk amongst yourself.”

Cordelia counted to thirty-six people in the auditorium as a member of the facilities, dining room entered with a tray of fresh food from the Academy’s cafeteria. No way Cordelia thought to herself. That smells like a Cheeseburger. She watched as the cafeteria worker handed each student a tray with a cheeseburger with chili, melted cheese, ketchup and mustard with a pickle on the side – a fresh peach, a large order of tater tots, a chocolate brownie. He poured each student a glass of something clear from a large pitcher. It turned out to be lemonade.

Cordelia took her lunch and made her way up to the front row, where the rest of the people who auditioned were gathering. She felt relieved to have made it this far, and the others had failed, or what she’d get for passing. One student caught Cordelia’s attention. She was very short, wearing black-framed glasses that looked like they were in style fifty years earlier in Earth’s past. She had this presence as if she belonged there.

“That was too easy of a scene for me,” explained the girl, who said her name was Christina. She had a gentle face that was at odds with the rest of her body. “I wonder how much lemonade can you ask for. Like maybe six glasses at the most. I love finding out crap like that, where the system screws itself over. Rules are for whims.”

Cordelia shrugged.

“My scene was so easy that a third grader could have acted out with passion.”

“What scene did you get?” asked Cordelia.

“The Passion of the Crist,” Christina said, “I saw it last year with my parents. I was really bored with it.”

Christina shrugged again and made a face: I’m here what the hell do you want me to do, bitch?

Cordelia could not help but notice among the people who auditioned, being friendly was not high on their agenda. In fact, some of the students down right mistrusted each other. They were from all over the country, except for two who turned out to be from the same Native American tribe. They went around the room telling each other stories about how they got there. No two were the same, but there was a theme here. Someone went in a spooky house, a dead body had been found, police were called or in some cases emergency services were called. Then they all found themselves here, green grass, summer like heat and someone taking them to the auditorium.

As soon as lunch was over instructors began poking their heads and calling out the names of the candidates. They went alphabetically, so it was only a couple of minutes before a mean looking black woman in her forties with dark-curly hair summoned Cordelia Alldice. She followed her into a narrow-baron room with tall windows that looked out onto the grounds. As she walked inside, the chatter from the other rooms vanished as the door close. There was nothing but two chairs in this room that seemed to give Cordelia the creeps.

Cordelia was thinking about the technology she left behind when the Colonial home world was destroyed. If she was in her holo-novel this would be where she would take the band off from her head and end the program. But she forced herself to pay attention. Think of this as a game, and you always dominate games girl. That is what she did. The instructor brought a table that was bare.

Cordelia sensed that the stakes were rising. She didn’t know what the instructor was planning. She watched as she walked over to the desk, grabbed a blank pad, a pencil and brought it over to her.

“I understand you have dreams of becoming a famous actress, Cordelia.” The woman said. She had an accent which suggested that she was from New Jersey, “Act out a scene with me.”

“Yes, ma’am.” She responded.

“In this scene, you are going to play the role of Leslie. I will play Ellie. The goal is to get me to cry. Now, what say you, can you make me cry?”

Cordelia performed the scene and read carefully. The instructor listened as Cordelia said her words and as they got deeper and deeper into the scene, spoke more words out of the mouth, the instructor noticed something. Did she tap into some raw emotion? Did Ms. Alldice unleash the passion that deep down every human being carries inside of them. The instructor watched with pride as she saw before her eyes someone transforming from a regular girl into a future Carrie Fisher before her eyes and before she knew it, she was crying.

When she got to Earth and her parents settled in Chicago, there was a book store about three blocks from her house. Cordelia always loved stopping by the bookstore, picking up books on human literature. Her grandfather used to tell her that you can tell something about a culture by reading their literature and I their literature can make you cry, then that is a species you want to get to know.

The instructor for that matter, was always on the lookout for anyone with talent. She had a highly successful career prior to becoming a teacher at Arcadia Academy, which secretly and she never told anyone in her life, but she secretly hoped to be an instructor and her dream came true four years ago. That made her the happiest person on the planet.

She had been instructed to watch for students who displayed passion in their acting. People who had the ability to tap into the human soul. Humans like this was rare but if you find the right one, they had the ability to act on anything, drama, comedy, even horror. Those are the types of people you want to snatch and mold into the perfect actor or actress.

“Let’s perform another scene together.”

Cordelia was starting to gain her confidence. She had accomplished what she set out to do. She made the instructor cry. All right lady, she said to herself. Let’s see what else you got for me.

“Sure,” Cordelia said. You can do this girl, don’t let this get to you. Only the future of your academic career is at stake, she told herself.

“Let’s go to page seven. In this scene, you’re playing Danielle, who is going on an award date with Charlie, your goal is to make me laugh. Let’s see what you got.”

Cordelia changed tactics after scanning the page. She knew her goal was to make the instructor laugh. Just as she did before, she reached down, deep into the soul and became a different person. This was the second time that the instructor had seen her do this. Before her eyes, Cordelia became a different person as she went through the scenes. The instructor was impressed at how she went from someone acting in a dramatic scene to someone who seemed like she was a natural at comedy and within two minutes, the instructor started laughing her ass off.

“It was as I thought,” she said, standing up. “Thank you, Cordelia, I will send in the next examiner.”

Cordelia watched her go, still trying to figure out if for the first time in her life if she passed or failed.

The whole afternoon went like that: instructors parading in one after another asking her to perform scenes for her. All of them trying their hardest to gain an emotion out of her which she was somehow able to do. There was this older white man with an unshaven beard who acted out a horror scene with her, a pretty young woman who couldn’t have been no older than twenty-three came in and acted out a scene from a romantic comedy. A fat, overweight black guy with glasses who was the Assistant Dean of the school came in and acted a few scenes with her. This was the last guy to come in and act out some scenes with her.

After thirty minutes and seriously fighting some hunger pains, Cordelia was starting to get tired. She was trying her hardest to convey the happiness the scene was called for but as the scene ended, she goofed up and said the line incorrectly which caused the guy to laugh his ass off. He stood up, shook her hand and left the room.

Finally, the door closed and didn’t open again. Cordelia took a deep breath and rolled her shoulders. She had got the feeling that the worst of the audition was over though no one bothered to say anything to her. By now, the sun was setting. She couldn’t see it where she was sitting and she wondered if her father had called out the former members of the Colonial Security forces along with the Chicago Police department to start a nationwide manhunt for her.

Cordelia was the type of person who panicked easily. Her head was clearing. She knew that her father was pacing up and down the main house surrounded by his staff making phone call after phone call trying to figure out where in the bloody hell she was at. She pictured her mom calling all her Earth friends trying to figure out if I had gone to their house and forgot to tell them. Maybe they thought that some thug grabbed me off the streets and took me to some dark alley in the city and raped me. Or if it really was summer here, maybe school hadn’t started yet. She started to wonder how safe, she really was as her heart rate started increasing.

Through the closed door, she heard some sounds that did not put her at ease: a boy, crying, and way too old to be crying in front of people. A teacher was speaking to him quietly and gently, but the boy wouldn’t or couldn’t stop. Cordelia ignored it, but deep down she felt bad for the boy that was crying. It made her recall the day she saw the Colonial home world explode from orbit. She cried on that day too. Cordelia heard Dean Henry Ashman speaking in a cold, almost tone death voice, trying not to sound angry.

“I really don’t care if I could be frank with you.”

There was an answer, but Cordelia could not make out the words.

“If we don’t have a Quorum we’ll simply send them all home and skip a year.” Ashman’s reserve was starting to decay. “Nothing would make me happier. I can destroy the bloody place and start with new talent. They’re out there, we got to know where to look or we can do what I ask and vote to admit.”

Inaudible.

“Look, we go through this every year, and we will empty every high school and middle school and jail cell until we find the next actress or an actor that will entertain the masses out there. If you don’t like the way I do things here, make a motion to dismiss me as a director, but I will wager the students at this academy will revolt if you do. Please make a choice, yea or nay.”

Fear was the one thing Cordelia did not like. It was the only thing that kept her awake during the five-year journey to Earth. She would jump on the bridge every time the ship’s computers would make a noise. She would jump when she feels the ship shaking. Her fear was that she was going to die, never having chased her dream of being famous not for who she was but for what she wanted to do, entertain people. A voice in her head told her that maybe she should leave. She made one of her famous I heart this face displayed. She stood up and walked over to the window.

The windows looked new, like those energy efficient windows she would watch couples on HGTV choose during a house remodel. The sky was a bright royal blue with stars starting to slowly appear signals that night was coming. She wonders where in Eastern Georgia they were, and what happened to the envelope that she had when she first got here. The thing that made her think about what was going on was the book she found that was being written for her.

With no warning the door banged open and Director Ashman walked in, over his shoulder at someone behind him.

“--- A Candidate? Fine,” he said in frustration, “Let’s see this Candidate. And bring some goddamn lights here!” he sat down at the table. He had changed into something casual that was dripping with sweat. It was not impossible that he must have been doing some drugs between now and the last time Cordelia saw him. She heard some drugs can lighten a person’s mood or make it worse depending on the drugs. “Hello, Cordelia. Please sit.”

He indicated the other chair. Cordelia sat, and Ashman put on a fresh shirt that was handed to him prior to coming in the room.

A black man followed Ashman into the room, and after him, came an older woman, followed by an older man, than the overweight black man who had been paraded into the room earlier. They formed lines along the walls, whispering like school boys and girls excited about the new school year. Even Damien was there who had managed to sneak himself into the room did not want to miss this for anything as well as Christina who Cordelia had a conversation with earlier today.

“Come on, come on inside people.” The Director waved them into the room. “We don’t have all day and I can smell that pizza from all the way down here. Next year, I want to do this in a building that has proper electricity. We’ve got to get into the twenty-first century sometime.”

Everyone started to laugh.

“Now, Cordelia, would you sit?” he asked, “Please.”

Cordelia was already sitting down. She already felt like she had been called to the Principal’s office. But Director Ashman had won more than he wanted to do. Every instructor told him that Cordelia was a natural actress.

“The instructors all say wonderful things about you Ms. Alldice,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “tell me, have you ever tried singing before?”

The audition wasn’t over yet. Now, the pressure was on. The Director of the Academy was sitting before her now. She had to perform a scene for him. Talk about pressure and she was feeling. He had a blue packet in front of him. “Page six,” Director Ashman said, “Make me laugh.”

Cordelia looked at the scene and just as she had done for all the others, she transformed into the character that was on the paper. She began speaking the lines. Director Ashman began speaking his lines. Though she hated physical comedy, Cordelia often used it to get her point across and by the time she hit page seven, Director Ashman was laughing.

“Not bad Ms. Alldice,” he said as he tried so hard to calm down from the laughter. The way he was laughing said it all. It had been years since any student, any staff member, or any candidate had made him laugh out loud like that.

All along the wall, the students, the instructors, the senior staff members were whispering about how good she was.

“Turn to page ten, the horror scene. Make me cower in fear.’

Like she did before, she looked at the scene for a few moments. She transformed into the character, cowering in fear as she delivered her lines. Director Ashman plays the role of the killer. Cordelia now shakes as she pleads for her life and then as the scene concluded she let out a scream that made the bones of everyone in the room shake and cower in true ear.

“My god,” Ashman said, “You are a natural at this. Are you sure you’ve never acted before Cordelia?”

“If you count the four school plays I did on my home world before it blew up, yes.”

“Show me some anger now, page sixteen. Let’s see how you look when you’re angry.”

Cordelia reads the scene. “I don’t feel comfortable doing this scene.”

Director Ashman leaned forward, pushing as he was famous for doing, “you can’t refuse this part of the audition that you can’t refuse.”

“Anger doesn’t work for me.”

“Says who Ms. Alldice. The scene, please perform it.”

Cordelia was trying to keep her cool. She grabbed the blue booklet and turned to the page that Director Ashman wanted. She dug down deep and summoned the emotions the scene called for. She played a female police officer trying to understand why someone she arrested, killed her partner and as she continued through the rest of the scene, that’s when it happened, the anger that she had been suppressing these years ever since the destruction of her home world exploded to the surface. For a moment, she did not know where she was or why she was in the building. She was angry and she did not like letting people see her so angry.

“Well, now,” the director said finally. He removed a neatly folded handkerchief from his pocket and patted his forehead dry. “I think we can all agree that was a Pass.’

The overweight black guy with glasses, put a reassuring hand on Cordelia’s back and gently, with the approving gesture of you made it kid helped her to sit down. A slow platter of applause erupted from the group of people in the room. It quickly turned into a standing ovation.

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