Chapter Text
Chapter 1: Code of Conduct
Loud voices and boisterous laughter fill the hallways of Bohemia Country Day School. Whether headed home, or out to cause juvenile mischief in the city of Prague, the school's students are escaping its confines for the day. In their haste to be free from boring lessons, the children have left disaster in their wake. Chairs are separated from desks, bags lay forgotten on the floor, and papers can be found in all manner of crevices.
With the source of the day’s chaos a mere memory, someone must begin to pick up the pieces. Thus, the school’s teachers will remain a while longer. Some of them set to work clearing the mess, struggling to reestablish order in their rooms; while others simply stare at the wall, struggling to reestablish order in their minds. Today though, one English teacher in particular is rushing to mark papers.
Henry Kovář is the teacher in question, Mr. Kovář, to his students. He’s of the forgetful sort, so—to no one’s surprise—it slipped his mind that he’d promised to post assignment scores today. Still, the assignment wasn’t an important one, realistically there’s no need to rush. His superiors wouldn’t bat an eye if he decided to leave the job for another day.
But alas, he’d made a promise—he really needs to stop using that word! So here he sits after work hours; doing his best to grade the students’ summaries quickly, but fairly.
In his haste, he almost misses it, but one student’s work seems very… distinct from the somewhat broken English of the rest.
The narrative of Lancelot and Galehaut offers a poignant meditation on the complexities of devotion, desire, and self-effacement within the chivalric tradition. Galehaut, initially cast as a formidable adversary to King Arthur, undergoes a profound transformation upon encountering Lancelot—his admiration evolving into a deep, arguably romantic, attachment that challenges the boundaries of friendship and loyalty. This tale destabilizes conventional archetypes of knightly virtue, suggesting that true nobility may lie not in conquest or courtly romance, but in the silent, selfless gestures of those who love without expectation. Through Galehaut’s quiet martyrdom, the legend deepens its emotional resonance, offering a rare portrait of love as both ennobling and tragic.
Henry sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. If they’re going to cheat, his students should at least do him the favor of cheating well. This kid hadn’t even bothered to remove the original text format! Odd formatting aside, the language of the paragraph is suspiciously high level. Even if the assignment were in Czech, there’s no way a 14 year old would ever write this.
To say he’s frustrated would be an understatement. All Henry had asked was for his students to write a simple, one paragraph summary on a short story they’d read in class. He’d even given them sentence starters! But no, even 15 minutes worth of work proved too heavy a sack for some to bear.
At the top of the document sits a semi-familiar name, Hyacinth Capon. Although he can recall the girl’s face, the new semester had only started 3 weeks prior. He doesn’t know much about any of his new charges, including this one. He had been hoping to avoid emailing parents this early; but unfortunately, the school keeps a strict policy on cheating.
With another deep sigh, Henry begrudgingly accepts the task of reporting the infraction. Both to administration… and to the parents.
Speaking with guardians is surprisingly similar in nature to walking through an active minefield. Choosing one wrong word, making even a single subjective statement, could cause a more protective parent to explode. In the presence of such danger, understanding the family’s situation is critical.
The printer at his desk roars to life. A cacophony of grinding, mechanical sounds indicate the machine’s intent to survive— well, at least long enough to finish its current job. Before long, Henry is in possession of a physical copy of the student’s ‘work’. Armed with the condemning print job, he sets out to find someone who already knows the cheater in question.
Most classrooms are dark as Henry makes his way down the hall. Anyone who hadn’t left their grading to the last minute is likely long gone by now. But, as fortune would have it, opening the door to the faculty room reveals two remaining staff. One of the two is Katherine Novak, a Czech teacher, and exactly who he’s looking for.
Katherine knows everything about everyone. Teachers, parents, and students alike, if they have something to hide, Katherine makes it her business to find it. She’s seated at a table on the far side of the room, back facing the wall, with her long dark hair tied in a neat braid down it. To the untrained eye, she’s hunched over reading, but Henry is acutely aware that he’s being watched as he makes his way towards her.
“Katherine, I have a question for you, if that’s alright?” he asks, gauging her willingness to assist in his quest. Placing her book down in front of her, she leans back in her chair to throw an inquisitive look in his direction.
Taking this as an invitation, Henry drops into the seat across from her. “I have to email this kid’s parents about cheating, but I don’t know the family.” he explains, sliding the print across the table. “Do you know anything about them?”
Katherine’s face twists as she looks over the paper. Though it’s an emotion Henry can’t quite name, it’s definitely not good.
“Oh.” she mutters. Then, in a tone that’s scarily sympathetic, “You’d better start praying.”
Henry huffs out a laugh at her chosen phrasing. “What, they’re that bad? Come on.” he jests, familiar with Katherine’s dry sense of humor.
“He.” she responds curtly. “He’s worse than that bad.”
Her steely expression tells Henry that she’s not joking, and even if she were, he’s no longer laughing. Luckily, the now concerned expression he wears seems to be all the prompting Katherine needs to elaborate further.
“Litigator.” She spits out, as if the word itself were poison. “Single father, mom is out of the picture, thinks his kid is God’s gift.”
Henry requires no further elaboration than this, he knows the type. Working in a haughty private school has often placed him in the line of fire from parents with axes to grind. Unfortunately for him, their treatment of teachers is typically all the worse when there’s been a divorce.
It’s then that the second woman present in the room decides to add her own words of advice. “Oh, are you guys talking about Capon’s dad? Good luck, he made poor Pavlena cry at a meeting last month.” she offers apologetically.
Henry’s throat suddenly feels very dry. Pavlena is one of the sweetest teachers in the whole school, an art teacher for crying out loud! She loves her students so much. If this man had found it in his twisted heart to bring that woman to tears, Henry stands zero chance at avoiding the same fate. Before he can completely lose himself in this unproductive train of thought, Katherine’s voice yanks him back to reality.
“I’d talk to Žižka before you send anything.” she advises, once again obscured behind her book. “We’re not supposed to contact that family without notifying admin.”
Nodding his head in solemn acceptance, Henry leaves Katherine to her book without another word.
***
Headmaster Žižka's office is on the far end of the building near the main entrance. Henry’s feet feel more like blocks of lead as he makes the trek. Eight years of teaching experience should provide confidence in speaking to any parent, but this one must really be the devil incarnate if Katherine hadn’t offered so much as a sarcastic quip.
The school’s front desk, along with its waiting area, are dark when Henry arrives. Past the desk, a faint light escapes underneath the door of Žižka’s private office. He needn’t pick the door’s lock, as two solid knocks are enough to prompt a response. “Enter.” the headmaster proclaims, his voice slightly muffled.
Henry opens the door, but remains respectfully in its frame rather than venturing further.
Žižka is currently on a phone call, seated at a pristine desk. If ever there were personal adornments, they’d long since been removed. The only hint of the man’s past—and present—life are the book cases behind him. Countless fencing awards cover the shelves. Some of them belong to Žižka, but most of the awards have been earned by the school’s fencing team. Each of the trophies is accompanied by a photograph featuring that year’s recruits.
Not missing a beat, the headmaster raises his index finger, indicating to Henry he’ll only be another moment. Promptly ending his phone call, he turns to face his visitor.
“Kovář. Need something?” he asks, though it’s more of a statement than a question.
“Yeah...” Henry replies tentatively. “I have to email a parent, and some other teachers said I needed to notify you first.”
Žižka considers this for a moment, his face pensive. “Capon.” he grumbles, almost to himself. “Tell me, what’s the girl done this time?” he sighs.
So, Henry elaborates, producing the same paper he’d shown Katherine as evidence. Žižka examines the page at length, eyes unreadable, before speaking again.
“I’m going to give you a piece of advice, Kovář.” he says, seeming only slightly put out by the situation.
Henry takes another step forward, the office door slams shut. He could use any piece of advice on offer in his situation.
There's a distinct pause as Žižka allows the door to fully close. Then, without much ceremony, he declares, “Learn to pick your battles...it’s not worth going to war with that girl’s father over something like this.”
Wait, what?
This certainly wasn’t the sage wisdom Henry had expected, especially not from the man who wrote the cheating policy in the first place.
Suddenly, any fear Henry may or may not have felt of the evil parent is gone. This girl is not going to outright cheat in his class, and get a free pass from Žižka to do so. All the other students had done their work properly; if anything it would be unfair to those kids, they’d actually worked hard for their grades!
“Sorry Sir, but are you yanking my-“
Suddenly remembering where exactly he is, Henry selects a different word to complete that sentence.
“-chain?”
Better.
Žižka's unamused stare suggests the negative, which is unacceptable. “Sir, this is so clearly against the student code of conduct! If it were anyone else you’d have them serving detention for a week!” Henry protests.
Realizing his voice has grown much louder than he’d meant it to, he continues in a less accusatory tone. “I just mean… Why should this girl get special treatment? Just because of who her father is? It all seems very unfair…”
The headmaster spends an inordinate amount of time considering the argument. Henry can feel the man scanning his face.
“It is, of course, still your decision.” he finally responds. Then after another pause, “Though, if you do decide to pursue disciplinary action, please bcc me on the email.”
"Yes, Sir." Henry nods. Though as he turns to leave, his mind is already made up.
“And, Kovář…” Žižka adds,
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
***
Henry marches back to his classroom with a newfound sense of purpose. If there’s anything he can’t stand it’s bullies, and this guy sure sounds like one. Whoever he is, he’s definitely used to threatening people into doing what he wants. No matter how much money someone has, they shouldn’t be able to get away with that.
This arsehole is about to get such an email.
Seated at his desk, armed with a keyboard, Henry starts drafting messages. After 30 minutes, he’s probably hit the delete key more often than any actual letters, but this needs to be perfect. He has to sound firm, but not scathing. Polite, but not too polite. Last but not least, he has to offer support for the student. This is entirely about her studies after all.
Finally, after 45 minutes, Henry arrives at a draft he’s at least okay with.
From:
hkovář@bcdedu:lowersecondary.org
To:
hanscapon@leipalegal&litigation.com
BCC:
jžižka@bcdedu:administration.org
Subject:
Issue with English assignment
Good afternoon Mr. Capon,
I hope this email finds you and your family well. My name is Mr. Kovář, I’m Hyacinth’s English teacher. Unfortunately, I am writing to inform you of an issue concerning Hyacinth’s scores. The most recent assignment she submitted (a paragraph reflection on a short story) was not her own work. The paragraph appears to have been copied and pasted from an AI generator. Because of this, I must give Hyacinth a 0 for the assignment, as is school policy.
Moving forward, I am more than willing to provide any additional support that Hyacinth may need to be successful. I’d also like to ask for your assistance in that matter. Sometimes students benefit from reminders to ask for help when they need it. I think if Hyacinth were reminded at home, as well as at school, it would really help her.
Thank you for your time and attention to this matter. Please let me know if there are any concerns, or if I can be of any other assistance.
Kindest regards,
Mr. Kovář
…
Moving in slow motion, Henry drags the cursor to the send button; the button’s color changes to gray, but the cursor remains stagnant, hovering. Aaaany time now, Henry…
With a quick depress of the trackpad, he pulls the trigger. The ever ominous 'message sent' indicator flashes, then disappears. May god have mercy on his soul.
His confidence fading with every passing second, the innate anxiety of email correspondence begins to consume Henry. What has he done? This parent is gonna kill him!
Alright, that might be a bit dramatic.
Henry allows himself one last re-read of his message—just to make sure he didn’t say anything too crazy—then sets about righting things in his classroom. Throwing out papers, collecting lost items… when suddenly, a chime from his laptop catches his attention.
No.
Turning his head slowly, the damning flash of the 'new message' symbol cannot be denied. It beckons Henry in a siren's call:
'come to me...the water is lovely...accept your fate.'
Like too many naive sailors before him, Henry begins the all-too-short walk towards the end of his ship's plank.
Step-by-step the distance from his desk grows shorter, until Henry stands entranced in the laptop’s hypnotic glow.
It’s fine, he tells himself, how bad could it be? This is nothing he hasn’t dealt with before. Repeating this mantra over and over in his head, Henry sits down; and with a trembling hand, relinquishes control to the mesmerizing voice.
From:
hanscapon@leipalegal&litigation.com
To:
hkovář@bcdedu:lowersecondary.org
CC:
jžižka@bcdedu:administration.org, rkobyla@bcdedu:schoolboard.org, (+5 more)
Subject:
RE: Issue with English assignment
Good afternoon Henry,
Although, my enjoyment of it has been in steady decline since receiving your missive. Well as yours may have found me, my hope is that this email leaves you in a decidedly different state.
In the event that you have read this far, and still remain as chipper as I had been prior to reading your aforementioned missive, please see the itemized list of complaints I have prepared below:
1 - Evidence (or lack thereof)
To my knowledge, I have yet to receive any tangible proof of the submitted paragraph’s authorship. Your claim that the work is AI generated is unfounded at best, and hearsay at worst. Unless you possess some divine knowledge into the cognition of generative AI models, to which us mere mortals are not yet privy, I’d hardly classify you as an expert in the field.
2 - Falsified statements by school staff
In the first sentence of your second paragraph, you state that you “…must give her a 0 for the assignment, as is school policy.” However, in reviewing the student code of conduct myself, I have found no such mention of the alleged policy. What I have found is a section which details proper procedure for the handling of academic dishonesty; and by extension, allegations of such conduct. The portion of the student code of conduct to which I have referred will hereinafter be referred to as the “Section”.
Before I continue, it is also worth noting that I’ve found no specific mention of generative AI within the Section; there are mentions of plagiarism from articles, websites, books, and even from other students, but not from generative AI software.
Even if the use of generative AI were considered under the Section—which it is not—and even if Hyacinth had broken any relevant regulations—a claim for which you have provided no evidence to support—the Section clearly states that the awarding of scores for offending assignments is done at the accusing teacher’s discretion. I.e., there is nothing that you must do in this situation, Henry.
In summation, I am very upset that my daughter has been wrongfully accused. I have discussed the matter with her myself, and she has adamantly denied your allegations. Hyacinth is not a cheater, and she is certainly not a liar. I deeply resent the fact that the esteemed staff at Bohemia Country Day seem to think otherwise.
That being said, I am not lacking in benevolence. Therefore, I will definitely not request that the school board relieve you from your teaching duties, under the condition that Hyacinth receives full credit for the assignment in question.
The proverbial ball is in your court, Henry. I eagerly await your response.
Sincerely yours,
Hans Capon
Executive partner,
Leipa Legal Associates®
…
Wow.
Holy shit, this guy is a prick.
A prick he may be, but this prick has influence. In other words, Henry’s life is over. He’s gonna lose his job, his apartment, his friends… then CPS will come for his dog! Why, oh why couldn’t he listen to his boss for once? Damn it, he always just has to play the hero!
Before Henry can even begin to fathom what an appropriate response to such vitriol might be, there’s another chime.
From:
jžižka@bcdedu:administration.org
To:
hkovář@bcdedu:lowersecondary.org, hanscapon@leipalegal&litigation.com
CC:
rkobyla@bcdedu:schoolboard.org, (+4 more)
Subject:
RE: RE: Issue with English assignment
Good afternoon all,
Mr. Capon, while I understand you are upset, I do not believe this to be appropriate communication with school faculty. Therefore, I would like to request that further discussion of this situation be conducted in person, under my supervision. Please give me a call at your earliest convenience to set up a meeting.
Best,
Jan ŽižkaLower Secondary Headmaster,
Bohemia Country Day School
…
No matter how ridiculous this is to say, considering some situations he's been in, Henry has never felt more relieved in his life. He’s not gonna lose custody of his dog! What was he even so scared for? He should’ve known Žižka would defend him. As emotionless as the man presents, he does seem to care about his—
Wait…
Henry’s eyes jump to the last sentence of Žižka’s email. ‘Please give me a call at your earliest convenience to set up a meeting.’
Does Žižka want him to attend this meeting?
‘in person, under my supervision’
Sakra, he definitely does! Henry’s relief has been extremely short-lived, as the innate anxiety of meetings quickly takes its place. It's one thing to send an email from the safety of his own classroom, but in a meeting there'd be no physical separation from this lunatic!
Henry realizes mid-descent that his leap from the ship yields only rocky waters below. The temptress called ‘righteousness’ claims another victim.
This parent really is gonna kill him…