Stray Cat Strut

Chapter Three - Electives in Future Tribulations

"Cooking isn't just about feeding people—it's about shaping the future. We splice flavors like genes, sear tradition with plasma torches, and plate memories with AI precision. A great dish isn't made in the kitchen anymore; it's engineered in the soul.

--Cook-O-Tron, the At Home AI Chef, 2029

***

The CIAL campus was bigger than I imagined. It encompassed the entirety of the little city around the main campus and about half a dozen much larger buildings around the central park area.

These were the picturesque, big, modern buildings that looked good on postcards, but they weren't the whole of it. The campus extended below-ground as well.

"This entire area, formerly the Perrot Island area, was slated to be New Montreal's first mega-city platform. However, the project was cancelled early in its development. The University saw an opportunity, purchased the plate, and has since used it as its primary campus," the Vice Principal said. He tapped one of his shiny loafers against the paved road we were on. "It doesn't look like it, but there is actually a single-floor level beneath the entire campus."

"That's kinda big," I said. It wasn't an exaggeration either. The campus had to cover a dozen square kilometres or something. There was plenty of grass and a few parks, and lots of roadways going around. "What about those buildings over there?"

I was pointing to the rows upon rows of cookie-cutter complexes. There were rather blocky buildings, maybe ten stories high, and all placed in neat rows.

"You have that many students?" Lucy asked.

"Oh? No, forgive me. That's the entirety of the campus population, and while yes a majority of that number is made up of our student body, a large portion is taken up by our staff. Administrators, teachers, janitors, maintenance. We have our own police, fire and combat forces, three small on-site hospitals and several clinics. The CIAL campus is a city unto itself, and most of our citizens live in those buildings right there."

"Wild," I said.

"Of course, there are several buildings set aside where the dormitories have... an increased amount of room and access to greater creature comforts. For the discerning student that wishes for more space to rest and relax in," the Vice Principal said.

"Do any students drive in?" Lucy asked. "From outside of the campus, I mean?"

"Oh, certainly. There's a nominal parking fee, as well as a monthly cost for use of the campus road. Not that we would impose such a thing on you, of course."

The entire time we were chatting, the Vice Principal was leading us along through the central part of the campus. It was... a nice spot, I'll admit. Very open, with benches and a few trees providing shade. There was a nice hill there, with green grass where a few students were laid out and taking in what little sun came through the overcast sky.

He was very clearly heading towards one building in particular, but doing so in the most inefficient way possible. It was a meandering path that kinda forced us to take in the sights.

I didn't blame him, exactly, I had all day, after all, and Lucy was enjoying herself, but it did feel kind of wasteful.

"Let's start by looking into the culinary schooling you mentioned?" he asked. "We have a fantastic course led by a former Michelin-star chef currently under our employ as an educator. It's a rather tough course, but I believe the level of challenge might depend on how many other courses you decide to take on."

"How many is normal?" I asked.

The Vice Principal smiled. "We try not to give our students more than it would be possible for them to take on," he replied.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

"Really?" Lucy asked. She smiled. "I heard online that it's basically impossible not to take on a lot of courses all at once, even if you don't want to take some of them, and that if you fail those, you might have to repeat them later before you're allowed to get your diploma or whatever."

"That's mean," I said.

"I know, right? And then you have to pay for all of the classes too," Lucy said. "And they really load you up on them. Like, it's a full-time job with overtime amount of classwork."

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"I feel like I'd just not show up to anything I don't care about," I said.

"I think that's what a lot of people do? But like, you're still paying for the classes you're not showing up to. But there's a 'skip this class' fee thing that you can pay."

"There are... certain classes that many students opt into only to then avoid. These are generally the classes with the cheapest opt-out fee," the Vice Principal said with a smile. "It may seem unfair on the surface, but it's one of the primary methods that CIAL earns its keep. There are also corporate sponsored students who only take courses that fit their career-oriented goals."

I nodded along, then looked at Lucy. "Did you wanna do the whole... busy course load thing?"

Lucy shook her head. "Fuck no, I've got a life."

"Ah, no worries," the Vice Principal said as he stepped up and held a door open for us. "We can be very accommodating to our VIP students! Which courses were you looking into other than Cooking, Miss Leblanc?"

I felt a jolt at hearing my name, then a different sort when I realized he meant Lucy. She, of course, knew that, and gave me a stupid grin in reply. "I was thinking Cooking and then maybe something on political leadership? I feel like they go together well."

"I see. I'm certain we can work something out. And yourself, Miss Stray Cat?"

"Just Cat's fine," I said. "And... uh..." Crap, I hadn't thought this far ahead. I'd mentioned engineering, but like... fuck me, that was probably an order of magnitude more than I was ready for. Did someone need to have like, basic math down before they started to figure out engineering?

I wasn't even sure I actually understood algebra.

I've completed a full audit of this institution's educational material, downloaded all of the online lessons and pirated content, and read all of the textbooks.

"That was fast," I said while raising a hand to the side of my head to indicate that I was in a call.

It took longer for your faster neuron to fire. In any case, might I suggest that you take on a physical combat class? There are several, including at least three that I think you'd find enjoyable and useful in the long term. My other suggestion would be to take the same political leadership course as Lucy. There are better versions available, but I believe that the course itself might not necessarily be wasted on you.

And it would mean staying with Lucy. "Sorry about that," I said. "My AI was auditing your course load. You guys have some pretty decent self-defence courses, yeah? Martial arts and the like?"

"We do," the Vice Principal said. "A lot of our students go on to become officers in various paramilitary organizations, or simply want to have a solid background in physical defence."

He led us through the building and up a set of stairs before we came onto a doorway that he casually opened. I was hit by a wave of strong smells. Spices and cooked meats and other tasty odours all mixed together rather chaotically.

We were in a kitchen. A massive one, with several dozen cooking stations set up in neat rows. Pots and pans hung from the ceiling and there were at least fifty stoves being attended to by students wearing large white aprons over their uniform blouses. A man at the far end of the room was in a more traditional cook's outfit, pleated hat and all, and he was currently giving a cowering young man an entire heap of shit while pointing at a plate with something that looked like fish on it.

The back end of the room, where we were, had some open space with rows of tables and stools behind them facing an electronic blackboard. So the room was split down the middle. Half massive kitchen, half normal classroom.

"Let's not interrupt needlessly," the Vice Principal said. "This is a third-year cooking class. Each of these students, assuming they pass of course, will go on to become a professional chef. We even have a very respectable post-graduation job placement system in place!"

"Well, I don't know about being professional," Lucy said. "But I think it might be fun all the same! Can we check out the rest of the school? Oh! And do you have cool clubs too?"

"Of course! And yes, we have some very nice extra-curricular groups here at CIAL," he replied.

What a salesman. I was working hard not to roll my eyes over here.

***