Bounders (14 page)

“Well, she was,” Marco says. “Who knows if she stuck around after I popped in and interrupted her silent vigil?”

“She was watching me?”

“Like I told you, Romeo, she's into you. I saw the way she looked at you when you mentioned your clarinet.”

Ugh. I knew that would come back to bite me.

Marco keeps talking. “What's with that, anyway? Who plays the clarinet? You're the kind of kid who puts the
B
in B-wad.”

“What's that supposed to mean? For someone who doesn't approve of the word, you sure use it a lot.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Marco says. “What gives? Are you going to help me here or what?”

“Haven't you noticed I'm injured?”

“What do you take me for? The pity police? Get your butt off that bed. You'll have to be up for Waters in the morning anyhow.”

He's right. I might as well get up. After all, Waters said none of my injuries were serious. I have to face the hangar humiliation head on. I might as well make myself feel better by helping Marco find some dirt.

I flip the blanket off and slide from the bed. When I transfer my weight to my feet, a tingling pain shoots from my hip up my back and down my leg on my left side.

“Ouch. Geez, that hurts.” I fall back onto the mattress.

From the other side of the room, Marco lets out a long laugh. Nice. Real nice.

“The least you could do is have a little sympathy, B-wad.”

“I'll try,” Marco spits out between giggles, “but it will be hard after that stellar snapshot of your bruised butt.”

Great. All I'm wearing is a hospital gown. Marco got a full whopping view of my rear side.

“Shut up and help me find my clothes,” I say, and toss one of my pillows at Marco.

I ease off the bed again and hobble over to the mirror on the opposite wall. I turn my back to the reflection and peer over my shoulder.

“Keep snooping around,” I shout at Marco, “and keep your eyes off my butt!” I let my gown fall open in back. A huge bruise the size of a grapefruit blossoms across my left hip. The center is a deep purple; the edges are pink. That must be where I hit the ground. I jab a finger into the bull's-eye of the bruise. Yep. That hurts.

“Catch,” Marco hollers. My balled-up clothes slam into my head.

“Gee, thanks.” I bend to pick up my uniform, and a whole new wave of pain ripples through me. “And I appreciate your not looking, like I asked.”

“Shut up and get dressed,” Marco says. “I could use another pair of eyes.”

I pull my uniform on and walk over to Marco. He's rummaging through a glass cabinet against one of the walls.

“Find anything?” I ask.

“Nothing out of the ordinary. Unless you consider these out of the ordinary.” He pulls open one of the drawers. It's filled with leather straps, metal cuffs, and chains.

“Are those the restraints they used on the alien?” I ask.

“Sure looks like it.”

“Do they need those for their other patients?”

“I doubt it. I mean, metal cuffs and chains? Seems a little extreme.”

“Maybe if someone is in pain . . . ?” I ask.

“Or maybe if someone is trying to escape,” Marco says. He raises his eyebrows. I'm sure he's thinking the same thing I'm thinking, because at that moment my mind is filled with the image of the alien on the table. And the armed guards at the door.

Marco and I bolt for the door. He beats me there. Bolt is probably a stretch when it comes to my ability to move right about now.

The door is open—Marco, Waters, and the other kids were able to come and go without a problem—but it's clear the door is equipped with sophisticated security.

“Look,” I say, “this is one of those bioscanners like they have in the pod hall.” I tip my eyes toward the device.

“That's weird.” Marco stands next to me and examines the scanner. “Why would they have a scanner on the inside of the room?”

I shrug. I have no idea. “Don't eye scanners make sure only certain people can get in?”

“Or make sure only certain people can get out,” Cole says from behind.

Marco and I both jump. How long has Cole been standing there? And more important, how are we getting out of this one?

“Geez, Mr. Fun Facts,” Marco says, “didn't your mother ever teach you not to sneak up on people?”

Cole ignores Marco. “I guess you're feeling better, Jasper.” His eyes dart up at me. It's only for a second, but I think it's the first time he's looked me square in the eyes. Everything about him—his eyes, his voice, even the way he stands—is an accusation.

I'm annoyed. I mean, come on. Aren't I allowed to have more than one friend? Every muscle in my body aches. I'm still woozy from the drugs. I'm the laughing stock of the Academy. And I have to add angry Cole to my list of problems. Then, of course, there's the issue of the secret alien.

Marco places a hand on each of our backs and presses us toward the bed. “Sit, Wiki. You, too, Ace.” Cole and I both sink down onto the mattress. “Here's the skinny.” Marco looks at Cole as he speaks. “Fly Guy and I snooped around the first night and discovered a captured alien holed up in this very med room.”

“A captured alien?” Cole says. “You mean a Tunneler?”

“No, no, no,” Marco says, “a new kind of alien. He was this nasty green color and had a huge pulsing head.”

Cole looks at me again. “Is he serious?”

I nod. “I know it sounds unbelievable, but it's true. They were working on him. He was injured or something. There was tons of security—at least five armed guards. Even so, the alien threw one of the doctors across the room.”

“How come you're just telling me about this now, Jasper?”

There's really no way out. Cole is mad. I don't have an excuse, and I'm too battered down to make one up. I shrug. “Sorry.”

Cole looks away. “Whatever.”

“Listen, Fact Man,” Marco says, “you can be mad all you want later. Who knows how much longer we have in here before Waters or someone on the medical staff comes back? Do you want to help us snoop around or not?”

Cole balls his hands into fists. What? Is he going to hit me? I'm in bad shape, but I could still take Cole in a fight. I shake off the thought. Geez, Jasper, don't be ridiculous. Tense seconds pass before Cole bounces back onto his feet and briskly strides to the door.

“This looks like a standard bioscanner,” Cole says. He punches a series of buttons on the keypad beneath the scanner, and a menu pops up.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“I'm helping you,” Cole says. “Isn't that what you want?”

“Yeah,” I say. “Thanks.”

Marco and I lean over Cole's shoulders as he pages through the menu. “Whoa,” he says.

“What?” Marco and I ask together.

“That's weird,” Cole says. “This door is equipped with an occludium shield.”

“Occludium shield?” I say. “Doesn't that seem a little extreme? I mean, if they've got the guy all strapped down with those cuffs and chains, where can he really go? Plus, I thought occludium was only used for quantum movement.”

Cole enters numbers on the keyboard. As each page loads, he enters more numbers.

“Dude, what are you doing?” Marco asks.

Cole keeps on pressing keys. “I'm accessing the security system.”

“You mean hacking in?” Marco says.

Cole doesn't respond. He just keeps punching numbers on the keyboard.

“Are you sure that's such a great idea?” I ask. I stick my head out the door to make sure no one's in the hall.

“As long as we don't get caught, I'd say it's a great idea,” Marco says.

“Yeah, but what are you looking for?” I ask.

A map appears on the security screen. Cole zooms in. “While you B-wads snoop around in here,” he says, “I'm snooping around where it actually matters.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“You said there was an unknown alien on board, right?” Marco and I both nod. “Well, then, what I want to know is, where is that alien now?”

He can figure that out? I lean over Cole's shoulder and stare at the map of the space station.

Cole raises his finger to the map. “There.” He points to a wing branching off from one of the space station structures. It's surrounded on three sides by open space.

“What?” Marco asks.

“That's a cellblock,” Cole says. “And that cell right there is secured by an occludium shield.”

YOU'D THINK GETTING DISCHARGED FROM THE
med room would be a good thing. Nope. Cole basically hates me. He hasn't spoken to me since he hacked the computer. Everyone else won't shut up. From the second I step into the dorm, I get ripped for my fall in the hangar. Regis is the worst. I can't get that kid off my back. As I remember it, Regis wasn't exactly a superstar with the blast pack.

Morning lecture is mind-numbingly boring. Edgar Han talks to us about the science behind quantum entanglement, the building blocks of bounding. I should listen. I know the basics of QE, but Han is going way beyond the basics.

“So, in other words,” Han says, “the two particles are related, intertwined, if you will, no matter how far apart in space they are. Thus, when one particle departs point A, it simultaneously arrives at point B. It bounds. This is what makes intergalactic travel not just possible, but practical.”

At the end of class we're quizzed. I probably do okay. I mean, I already knew most of what Han talked about, but there's no way I got everything right. The quiz counts toward our pod rankings. I really need to start paying attention.

We have lunch right after lecture. I find Lucy and drag her to a table in the back of the mess hall. I'm sure the guys will tease me about it, but I just can't take any more. As soon as we set our trays down, Meggi and Annette come through the line and join us.

“How are you feeling?” Lucy asks when we sit down. Tofu dogs are the lunch entrée. And yes, they're definitely the source of the stale hot dog smell that never leaves the space station. My appetite evaporates.

I shrug. “Okay, considering I'm pretty banged up from the fall. No one will shut up about it. The whole thing stinks, you know?”

Lucy smiles and pats my hand. “Listen, Jasper. They'll get over it. As soon as they have something—or someone—else to latch on to, you'll be old news. Trust me.”

“Maybe you're right,” I say, “but it's not doing me much good today.”

“Have you noticed none of the girls are teasing you?” Annette asks.

I laugh. “I thought that was because you're just nicer.”

“Please,” Lucy says. “Girls are meaner than boys times ten. No, the reason they're leaving you alone is because they have someone else to target.”

“Who?”

“Who do you think?” Annette asks.

“Mira?”

The girls nod. “She snuck out again last night,” Lucy says. “Sent the whole dorm ringing with sirens and whistles and flashing lights.”

“No one got any sleep,” Meggi says.

“Where was she going?” Was she watching me again?

“Beats me,” Lucy says. “But I'm glad you dragged me over here this morning. All the girls keep bombarding me with questions. They think since I'm in the same pod as her, I have some grand insight into her psyche.”

“You mean, you don't?” Annette says in a flat tone.

Lucy rolls her eyes. “Shut up. You, too, Meggi. Don't even start.”

I scan the mess hall. Mira sits in the back near the porthole again. She presses her hand against the glass, her fingers splayed like a fan. Part of me wants to go over and sit with her, try to connect, but there's no way I'm going to set myself up for more ribbing.

The girls jabber away about Mira and her midnight escapades. Somehow that leads to nail polish and Maximilian Sheek's line of hair styling products. I stare at Mira's long braid and her thin arms. What's going on inside your mind, Mira? How do I reach you?

“So I'll show you around. We're scheduled to go back this afternoon. It's like our post-class leisure time.”

“Go where?” I ask.

“The sensory gym,” Lucy says.

“The what? Wait. Where are Meggi and Annette?”

“You zoned out, didn't you?” Lucy asks. “You're worse than Meggi, and she can't pay attention for more than two minutes at a time. How did you two make the cut? Never mind. I'll tell you again. The sensory gym's in the same structure as the pods, the next hall down. And Meggi and Annette left to sit with their pod more than a minute ago.”

Lucy describes the sensory gym, with its trampolines and tents and climbing ladders and rope swings and ball pits. It sounds like Waters's tricked out pod room. Next, Lucy fills me in on all the gossip from the girls' dorm. Then she tells me every detail about her morning conversation with Florine. By the time she takes a break from talking, lunch is almost over. I love that about Lucy; she can easily fill your time. And when I tune in, she usually has something mildly interesting to say.

My gaze wanders back to Mira. She rises from the table and floats from the mess hall. I want to follow her, but I don't.

“And here she is,” Lucy says. She looks at me, probably waiting for some sort of reaction.

“Who?” I ask.

“Oh, Jasper.” Lucy shakes her head. “Florine, of course.” She nods to the front of the mess hall, where Florine stands with a handful of officers.

“May I have your attention, puh-
leeeze
,” Florine says from behind her sunglasses. “Today we start the pod competition. This week's rankings will be based on quiz scores and Mobility relay race placements. Next week's scores will include the bounding assessments, which will be double weighted. We'll post the rankings here in the mess hall after dinner. Best wishes to all the pods.”