Bounders (18 page)

“Did we make it?” Cole asks.

Han laughs. “I hope so. Either that or we're all lost together in some alternative dimension.” When no one laughs, Han adds, “Joking.”

The loud squishy noise sounds again, and then a weird light fills the ship. A stranger's voice shouts over the intercom. “Welcome to Bounding Base 32, kids!”

A Crawler inserts a ladder into the ship, and we climb out one by one onto the loading platform. As I drop down onto the bounding deck, I look around. Bounding Base 32 isn't all that different from the space station—just a lot smaller. A couple of structures connected by chutes, a narrow bounding deck, a hangar for standard crafts. And a dozen armed gunships surrounding the base.

Hmmm. Security's awfully tight here, too.

“So, how was it?” Malaina Suarez asks when we walk into Subsistence class after our bounding mission. She's pulled forward a dozen overhead garden racks hung with tomato vines. Five pots of romaine lettuce rest on the table.

“Awesome,” I say.

“Yeah,” Marco says as he grabs his pair of gardening gloves. “It rocked.”

“When do we get to do it again?” Lucy asks.

Cole smiles. And, believe it or not, so does Mira.

“I'm glad you had fun,” Suarez says.

Regis, Randall, and Hakim walk in. We're paired with their pod for Subsistence. Hakim has a black eye. That's the second one this tour. Those guys can't stay out of a fight for more than five minutes. I wonder if Regis gave Hakim the shiner, or if they picked a fight with another pod. Maybe I'm not their sole target.

“The first bound is really special,” Suarez continues. “I'm happy you could do it together. You're officially quantum aeronauts now.” Suarez goes into the back for fertilizer.

“Yeah,” Regis says, “you're aeronauts. Hope you liked it. It's the last chance you'll get to bound this tour.” The three of them laugh. They really crack themselves up.

“What are you talking about?” Marco says.

“Haven't you heard?” Randall says. “The top pod gets to take the first free-bound with the gloves in front of the entire Academy on the last day of the tour of duty. That's the prize in the competition.”

“So you better get ready to watch me,” Regis says, raising his palms for Randall and Hakim to high-five.

The first free-bound? I didn't even think we'd start free-bounding until our second tour, at the earliest. I'd give anything to be the first to bound. I'd also give anything to make sure Regis is
not
.

“What makes you so sure you're gonna win?” Lucy says.

“Oh, we'll win.” Regis steps in front of Lucy and glowers down at her. “And I'll tell you something else. With Jasper's stellar blast pack moves, you've locked up last place.”

“Shut up, Regis,” I say.

Regis spreads his arms wide. “Okay, Jasper. Let's wait and see. Second rankings post tonight after dinner. We'll let the scores do the talking.”

Suarez walks back in carrying a huge tub of squiggly things. “Worms,” she says. “Nature's fertilizer. Come on, now. Grab a handful, and let's get to gardening.”

After lunch, Cole, Marco, Lucy, and I head to the sensory gym. We need a chance to decompress. My muscles are tied in knots. I'm drained from the bound and angry at Regis. It's a bad combo. I need a break. We all do.

As we skip down the hall, laughter spills from the sensory gym. I'm excited. I can almost feel myself launching off the trampoline and sinking into the silver bead pit.

As soon as I step into the gym, I can tell something is off. A strange energy swirls in circles, and the laughter is too high-pitched. Plus, once I look around, I'm sure something isn't right. No one is on the trampolines or in the ball pit or on the monkey bars. They're all crowded in a circle in the middle of the room. Closed in. Focused on something in the center.

Marco pushes his way into the circle, and the rest of us follow. Two people are in the center: Regis and Mira. Mira is on the ground, curled tight in a ball. Her eyes are squeezed shut, and her entire body shudders. Regis walks around her, circles her, stalks her. Every few seconds he reaches down and pokes her with his finger or pulls a strand of her hair loose. And each time he does, the circle laughs, like Regis is the epicenter of a sick, rolling wave.

“I said talk, freak,” Regis says. “What? Are you deaf, too? Deaf and dumb? Or just crazy?”

A chorus of echoes blasts out.

“Freak.”

“Dumb.”

“Crazy.”

The chorus stokes Regis. His eyes are ablaze. “Why did you come here, freak? Don't you know we hate you? Don't you know you're the reason we take so much flak back at home? Because everyone thinks we'll end up like you?”

He reaches down and grabs Mira's braid, ripping her chin back. “Look at me, freak! Answer me!”

At first Mira's eyes are vacant, like she can't really see. Like she's staring at the one-way glass in the med room. Then something kicks in. Her eyes dart across the faces, frantic, searching. Until they come to rest on me.

Help me.
I hear her in my brain and in my bones and in my blood. And in the lingering memory of her music.
Help me.

I lunge into the center of the circle. “Stop.”

Regis spins around. When he sees me, his eyes glisten with amusement. “What did you say?”

“Stop.” I wish I screamed it. Stepped right in his face and hollered. But all I can manage is to keep my voice level, my gaze certain.

“Is this a joke?” Regis walks the edge of the circle, drawing in supporters. “What? Is she your girlfriend? Perfect. She's the queen freak and you're the freak who can't fly.”

“Shut up,” I say.

Regis laughs, and most of the others laugh with him. “And who's gonna make me?”

I suck in air. My exhale comes out in a stuttered rhythm that marches in time with my racing heart.

“Me,” a voice calls from behind. Marco steps to my side. Anger rolls off him like storm clouds in a fast-moving front. His hands are balled into fists, and his jaw is clenched. He walks right into Regis's space until they're practically touching. Then he lowers his voice to a strong whisper, low enough to sound menacing, but loud enough for everyone in the circle to hear. “If you ever lay a hand on anyone in my pod again, I will beat you so bad, you'll be shipped in the first shuttle to Earth and you'll never come back. Are we clear?”

Regis doesn't give ground immediately. He keeps his eyes locked with Marco, but I can tell he's crumbling. His shoulders slump, and he seems to shrink.

“Whatever, man,” Regis says. “Be a B-wad.”

Regis stomps out of the circle. The cadets disperse. Meggi and Annette pause, waiting for Lucy to join them. She doesn't.

“I am,” Marco calls after him.

The other cadets turn around. They seem curious. What does Marco mean?

Marco laughs. “I am a B-wad. We're all B-wads. Don't you know that?” Marco keeps laughing long after Regis leaves the sensory gym. His laugh is dark and wild and knowing. I want to shutter up my brain to keep it out.

My hands shake. The rest of me is frozen, rooted to the spot where I stepped from the circle into Regis's space. How did I do that? Long strands of leftover fear and live anger weave together and tighten around my neck. I'm suffocating, just like on the quantum ship.

Mira cowers on the ground. She still needs my help.

I force myself to move. I try to get Mira up by myself, but she won't budge. She curls back into a ball and tucks her head to her chest. I plead with her to get up. My voice is strained. A grapefruit-size something sits in my throat, making it hard to talk and almost as hard to breathe. The lump grows, and I bat at my eyes. Why do I have to cry? I'm not sad. I'm not anything anymore except angry.

Lucy is mad, too. She stomps around the sensory gym, fuming. “Oh, for goodness sake,” she says. “Why'd you have to make us choose sides?”

“What on earth are you talking about?” I growl.

The other cadets have left for pod session. It's just us, the loser pod, left.

“It's not like I care about that jerk Regis,” Lucy says, “but I have friends in the other pods, okay? Why does it have to be us against them?”

“I don't see it that way, Lucy.” I'm not really interested in her social woes. “Give me a hand here.”

She kneels on the other side of Mira, and together we manage to haul her up into a sitting position. I stroke Mira's hair out of her face and squeeze her hand.
You're safe now, Mira.

“What choice do you think we had?” Cole asks Lucy. “Anyhow, it's for the best. It's all about the pods now.”

I lie back on the mat and drape my arm across my face. “Yeah, well, now I guess our pod's a huge target.”

“Don't be so sure,” Marco says. He lifts the flap to the corner tent he stormed into after the blow-up with Regis. “We're a bunch of freaks, remember? No one thinks we're a threat.”

“Speak for yourself,” Lucy says. “I'm no freak.”

Maybe I
am
a freak. I always felt like a freak back home. Trying to act normal. Trying to hide the fact that I'm a Bounder. Maybe we're all freaks. Who cares anyway? It doesn't matter what I am as long as I can make sure Regis and all the bullies like him can't touch me. Or Mira. Or anyone in my pod. We need to stick it to Regis and his band of Bad Breath wannabes.

I channel my boiling emotions into a single word:
Ultio
.

“We'll just have to prove them wrong,” I say. “One way or another, we have to win this thing.”

We slowly make our way to the pod room. Thankfully, the hall is clear. All the other cadets are already in pod session. If Waters is surprised the five of us show up together—Mira wedged between Cole and me—he doesn't say anything. As soon as we drag Mira in, settle her on the tangerine beanbag, and slump down onto our own bags, Waters claps his hands.

“Okay, team. Let's go. Gedney's expecting us.”

Gee, thanks for waiting until after we got settled.

“Where are we going?” Marco asks.

Waters doesn't answer. He opens the pod room door and impatiently waves with his hand for us to get out.

“Do we get to try the gloves?” Lucy asks as she leaps from her beanbag. “Do we each get our own pair? Who goes first? When are they posting the rankings?”

Waters studies Lucy's face. “Yes,” he says.

“Yes what?” she asks.

“Yes to the first question. If you think I can keep all those other questions straight at the same time, you greatly overestimate me.”

Mom is like that. She cannons out the questions, one after the next. A picture of her forms in my mind. The lump in my throat comes back, and I bite my lip. I'd give anything for an hour at home with Mom and Dad and Addy. I'd trade every last meal at the space station for one taste of Mom's chocolate chip cookies.

The whole mess with Mira drained me. I let the others shuffle out before us. Of course they expect me to get her. I don't exactly mind, but I sure don't understand. From the first pod session, I've been responsible for Mira. I have to admit, it seems right, but it's also totally hilarious. I mean, since when am I the caretaking type? Addy has to take care of
me
, and she's a full year younger. I never thought I was up to the job.

I crawl across the green grass carpet to Mira's beanbag. Her hair sticks out in a million places. Man, do I hate Regis.

As I'm about to reach for Mira's hands, she lifts them. She laces her long fingers through mine, weaving our hands together. When she looks at me, a wave of calm soothes my homesickness, and I know it's her way of saying thanks.

I close my eyes and savor the moment.

Waters is waiting. I lead Mira out of the pod room.

“Good, we're all accounted for,” Waters says. “Let's not keep Gedney waiting. You know how he is about getting to things quickly.”