Xavier Mayor wouldn't take it. He wouldn't sit beneath their feet. He was better than those protons, Sorry Zara Vals and Flunky Finn Komea.

The teacher treated them like grand nobles, as if they were king and queen of the class. Sing praises to their massless eminence. Pay homage to their spinning sovereignty.

They got to sit on top of everybody else, Sorry and Flunky, looking down on their royal domain. In fact, they sat right on him. Sorry's feet nearly stomped on his head.

Sorry could spit on him and the teacher would cheer. It would tell Sorry how perfect and beautiful was her magnificent spittle, what great form Sorry had with the loogie, how Sorry could propel it faster and better than anybody else. And if he smashed Sorry into the wall the teacher would marvel at the beautiful artwork of Sorry's bloody pizza face.

No, Xavier wouldn't do it. He wouldn't bow down, not to them.

"Who can recite the seven phases of Aubrey Probo's revolution?" the teacher said. Sorry Zara raised her laser arm first. Of course, she did. That's the fifth question she answered, all in a row.

She rattled off the seven phases as if she had been there, as if she had told Aubrey Probo what to do and how to do it: Discovery of axions, proving the axions, conflict with science, saving the world, obeisance to Axion, dismantling the Imperium, reordering the world.

"Excellent, Zara Vals," the teacher said. "You're doing well again today."

And if Sorry wasn't answering the questions, then it was Flunky Finn, trading off answers back and forth, Sorry, then Flunky, and then Sorry again.

The teacher displayed the class credits, a holographic blue board listing all of their names. Sorry and Flunky tied at the top. They far exceeded Xavier. They gained more points than anyone else, and they kept increasing while he kept decreasing.

What was worse, the teacher wouldn't stop talking about Aubrey Probo, how Aubrey Probo did this, and how Aubrey Probo did that. It droned on and on about the Axionarchy or some stupid massless government that Aubrey Probo founded, its beauty and its symmetry, its perfection, how it was so much better than democracy, and all that spinning nonsense.

What trash. Who could give a fart? If Sorry gave one, of course, the teacher would say it smelled like perfume. She would earn extra points for her pleasing aroma, and then Flunky would have to give one too just to even the score. That was maddening enough right there.

The teacher got on Xavier's case, and that angered him even more. It got too close, that stick-like head and those irritating red lights. He could smell the sick ozone of its pulsed plasma thrusters. The teacher had those stinky thrusters built into its two feet. They stunk it up real bad.

The teacher got in Xavier's space sometimes when it asked a question like it could read his mind. He wanted to snap its stick-of-a-head and put out those irritating lights, but it carried blasters that could do some protons. They could vaporize anything. He liked to think about what those blasters might do to Sorry and Flunky.

"Xavier Mayor, can you tell me why Aubrey Probo needed to overthrow the imperial government?" it said with its irritating lights right in Xavier's face.

"Because of dark energy," Xavier said.

"Well, that's partly right, but why is dark energy so dangerous? Why was it necessary for Aubrey Probo to take such important action?"

The teacher backed off. It would fly across the room constantly going back and forth and up and down surveying the class.

Flunky raised his laser arm. His laser arm was as skinny and massless as his real arm. "Because dark energy distorts the fabric of spacetime," Flunky said, "causing spacetime inflation and interfering with Axion's rightful governance over the universe."

"Excellent Finn Komea, and what is done with those who generate dark energy?"

Sorry answered this time. They did that. They traded back and forth answering the questions. "Dark energy is a serious crime against Axion and against the universe. It is punishable by death. Such criminals are called junkys."

When Xavier stood up in his chair, he nearly touched Sorry's slimy feet. They dangled from her perch just above him, barely out of his reach. "You're a lying spinning proton," he shouted up at her. He couldn't help telling her because she really was a lying spinning proton. He was only telling the truth. "You're the junky."

Then he jumped up and grabbed both of Sorry's ankles, yanking her massless butt right out of her chair.

"What's the protons?" The surprised look on Sorry's face was worth the whipping he would get. "Ouch, let go of me."

"Say it. You're a junky. Say it."

When she wouldn't say it, he slugged Sorry in the face. But fist fighting up in the air was massless. First of all, he had to pedal with his shoes just to stay aloft while he hit her. And second, he forgot to pedal. He couldn't get any footing. The air didn't provide any support for punching. He shoved himself backward more than he hurt Sorry. And since he forgot to pedal, he tumbled downward.

Sorry treaded the air, pumping her feet to keep from sinking, like running in place up in the air. "He hit me," she said to the teacher, spreading her arms with this gesture of pathetic innocence. "I didn't do anything. He jumped up here and hit me." Then she laughed at him. Sorry gaped down and laughed at him.

By that time, Sam rose up behind Sorry. "Yeah, and I'm gonna hit you too." And she did. Sam hit Sorry really good. He liked Sam. He really liked Sam a lot. Sorry wasn't laughing anymore.

But Flunky jumped down from his lofty perch onto Sam "Hey, proton." Then Flunky slugged her good, that scrawny little massless fart.

Then Kabibe took care of Flunky. She rose up from her desk and smashed the little fart. Hurray for Kabibe. He liked her too.

More of them might have gotten into it. He wasn't sure about that, though, because the teacher got right up into his face, its red lights glaring right into his eyes. That really irritated him because he couldn't see who won the fight.

The whipping started in his head, something like a bad headache. But it moved quickly to a popping pain between his ears. After that, it was like a knife splitting the middle of his head. It spread down his neck, erupted in his chest, and shot through his arms and his legs.

He wouldn't scream. He wouldn't make a sound. He wouldn't give the massless thing such pleasure. But that was stupid because robots didn't feel any pleasure, so he yelled it out. He yelled it out good.

Moments later, the pain was gone. Although it didn't last long, it came back again and again like a whipping.

"What have you learned, Xavier Mayor."

The teacher looked down on him, the bright red lights glowing out from its stick-of-a-head. It seemed so tall, so overpowering, so domineering, its six arms spreading around him.

"What have you learned, Xavier Mayor?"

The feelings surged through Xavier, feelings of jealousy, anger, and hatred, all massless. It was Sorry's fault. "I learned-" He stopped before he said it. He didn't want another whipping.

"What have you learned, Xavier Mayor?"

"I learned-" He didn't say it. Sorry Zara did this to him. She was a darky.

"What have you learned, Xavier Mayor?"

The robots were perfectly patient teachers. They knew it took time for humans to process their protons. But it didn't take so long for Xavier. The feeling came over him so strongly that he couldn't deny it. Now he knew. "I want to fight junkys."

He balled his fists and said it like he meant it. "I want to fight junkys. I want to fight against the people who use dark energy."

He belted it out. "I want to fight junkys."

The teacher handed him a long, thin gamma pistol. "Use it well, Xavier Mayor."