Bounders (27 page)

“Don't know, Wiki,” Marco says, “but I call your seat for the return trip.”

“Ohhh, yes, I get Jasper's!” Lucy says.

“No,” Cole says in a flat tone. “We'll want the front seats for reentry.”

I'm about to stake my verbal claim on the front row when the admiral's honor guard enters the mess hall. A moment later Ridders appears with the rankings poster, and all the pod leaders march in after him. Even Florine Statton, who has kept a lower profile since the tofu strings episode, shows up.

“Admiral on deck!” Bad Breath shouts.

Chairs scrape against the floor as all one hundred and thirty cadets stand at attention.

Admiral Eames crosses the mess hall, letting her gaze fall on each of us as she passes, just like she did when we took the Earth Force oath. “Good evening, cadets,” she says when she reaches the middle of the room. “I've been keeping track of your progress through regular meetings with your pod leaders and review of your scores. You're an impressive bunch. All of you. You should be proud. You've truly exceeded our every expectation when we started the Bounder Baby Breeding Program and made plans for the EarthBound Academy. I applaud you.”

When the admiral claps, we join in. The energy in the mess hall is thick. Our claps and hoots and hollers swell to a roar.

She waves her hands to quiet us down. “Let's get to the results. Please be seated.”

We settle at our tables, still whirling with excitement and anticipation.

“Of course, there can only be one first-place pod,” she continues, making her way back to Ridders's side. “And, as you know, the winners will free-bound at our closing ceremony two days from now, after your field trip to the Paleo Planet.”

Marco kicks me under the table. Lucy squeezes my hand. Did we pull it off? Or did my Mobility performance during most of the tour keep us from first place? I cross the fingers on my free hand.

Ridders leans close to the admiral and whispers in her ear. The admiral searches the crowd. Maybe I'm wrong, but I swear her eyes zero in on Mira.

“Placing first in the rankings,” the admiral says, “is Jon Waters's pod.”

Wow! We did it!

Marco and I leap from our chairs and slap a high five. Lucy spins around in an impromptu dance. We lean forward into the center of the orange circle, pulling Cole and Mira along with us, and clasp arms as a pod. We did it! We really did it!

At the front of the mess hall, Waters shakes the admiral's hand. He waves back at the crowd of officers. They split apart and let Gedney step through their ranks. He hobbles over to Admiral Eames and Waters.

Friends from other pods gather at our table to say congratulations.

Meggi hugs me. “Way to go, Jasper. To be honest, I didn't care much who won as long as it wasn't Regis. There'll be plenty of time to bound next tour.”

Ridders posts the rankings. The other cadets crowd around the poster to find out their final rank. Regis, Hakim, and Randall try to sneak out the back, but Han runs after them and herds them to their table where he stands guard. That's right, Regis.
Ultio.

Admiral Eames walks over to our table, Waters and Gedney at her sides. She takes a moment with each of us, shaking our hands and praising our win.

“Jasper Adams?” she asks when she reaches me. She knows my name? I nod and smile so big, I worry my face might get stuck that way.

“Congratulations,” she says. “You deserve this win. Now do me a favor, okay?”

I nod again, not sure I can speak.

The admiral laughs. “Enjoy your home leave. We have a lot of work to do when you come back for your next tour of duty in the fall. You're important to us. Earth Force is counting on you, Jasper. I'm counting on you.”

“Yes, Admiral,” I choke out.

She stares at me for a long moment. A slow smile blossoms on her lips, and she tousles my hair. “Sometimes I forget you're just kids. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some important business to get back to.” She shakes Waters's hand, nods at Gedney, and leaves the mess hall.

Waters and Gedney pull up chairs. Waters stretches his long legs in front of him and grabs a butterscotch squeezy. “These things are good,” he says. “Just steer clear of the tofu dogs.”

“Uhhh, yeah,” Marco says, “we figured that out on day one.”

“How do you like the tofu strings, Marco?” Waters asks with his
I've got a secret
grin plastered on his face.

Does he know about the prank?

Marco shrugs as the color drains from his face.

Waters laughs and claps a hand on Marco's shoulder. “The admiral's right. You kids should be really proud. I'm really proud of you. You've done a great job this tour. Now you'll get some downtime with your families, and we'll be back together in a few months for your second tour of duty.”

“Yes, yes, you've done well,” Gedney says. “You picked up the gloves very quickly.”

That's Gedney, always wanting us to be quick. I'm glad he thinks we're fast learners.

Cole hasn't said much. And he hasn't touched the second butterscotch squeezy I grabbed for him in the kitchen.

“You okay, Cole?” Waters asks.

“Yes, it's just . . . I'm worried about the free-bound.”

Waters switches his grip to Cole's shoulder. “You'll do fine, Cole. Don't worry. Your percentages have been high. We'll practice again before the bound.”

Cole nods.

“I wish we could stay,” Waters says, “but we have a briefing. Let's get going, Gedney.” They rise and head for the door. Most of the officers have already left the hall.

“We did it,” I say to my pod mates.

“As if there were ever any doubt . . . ,” Lucy says.

We sit for a minute, basking in our win, sucking down a few more squeezies. There's nothing I like better than hanging out at this orange table with my pod mates. Back on Earth, I always felt like I stood outside the circle, looking in. With my pod, though, I'm part of the circle. We all are.

Marco slams his hand down on the table. “Okay, Bounders, we got the win. I'll put a check in that column. Now on to the next adventure. Tonight we have a date with an alien.”

“ALL CLEAR,” MARCO SAYS. HE STEPS
into the hall, and Cole and I are on his heels. We dart for the chute cube.

As soon as I pull the cube handle, Lucy peeks out of the arrival chute. “Nice of you to be on time.”

“We're here, okay? Is Mira with you?”

“Ummm, yeah. We're basically on top of each other in here. I'll write it up as girl bonding.”

“Whatever. I'm pushing the button, so be ready.” The girls crawl out of the arrival trough. The chute hums when I activate the system. Marco jumps onto the grate and is sucked into the chute. Lucy grabs Marco's ankles, and Cole grabs Lucy. I make sure Mira's in next, and I sail in behind her.

As I whip around the last corner, I hope the others have cleared out. I'm not looking for a five-cadet pileup. Fortunately, Mira and I glide into an empty trough. I leap off and help her out after me. I straighten and take stock. We all made it. Time to move on to step two.

“Cole, you know how to get to the cellblock, right?” I ask.

He points to his head. “It's all up here.”

I nod. “Let's go.”

We dash out of the cube and run down the hall. Cole leads us through a series of turns until we reach another chute cube. We soar through the tube to another structure and take off running. We follow the sensor stripe through more turns until Cole pulls up short.

“This is it,” he says. “Turn right, and the cellblock branches off from the end of the hallway.”

That means the guard is at the end of the hallway, too. I look at Lucy. Her eyes open wide, and she looks like she's holding her breath. “Hey,” I say. “You've got this, right?”

She nods and squares her shoulders. “It's not like any of you clowns could do it. Here, take this.” She shoves her blast pack into my arms and sprints around the corner.

A loud male voice: “Miss. Excuse me, miss! This is a restricted area. I'll have to ask you to turn around and return the way you came.”

Then Lucy's voice, ragged with sobs: “Oh, thank goodness, I found you. I'm mixed up. I have no idea where I am. See, I'm just so devastated”—sob, choke, sob, cough, sob—“I can't talk about it. Oh, I might as well talk about it. It's Marco . . .”

“Who?” the guard asks, but Lucy bowls right over him.

“I can't believe what that tofu-faced imbecile did,” Lucy wails. Next to me, Marco's eyebrows pinch together. “He promised to save me a seat in the mess hall, and I found him talking to
her
.”

“Who?”

Oh, that poor guard.

“I came in with my tray, and there she was. She'd pulled her chair up right next to his”—sobs so loud, I want to stick my fingers into my ears—“and she was practically on his lap—”

“Miss. Miss—”

“I didn't know what to do, you know? I mean, do I shout at him for not saving me a seat? And I couldn't anyway because I was just so shocked and so hurt and—”

“Miss. You're going to have to come with me, miss. No, no, no. You can't sit here. I'm sorry about this, miss, but please. You'll have to stand up.”

Geez. I feel sorry for the guy. Listening to Lucy makes
me
cringe, and I know it's all a ruse.

Sob, choke, sob, cough. “I can't get up. I just can't. I don't think I can walk. My chest, it hurts. My heart is broken. Or maybe I'm having a heart attack. Oh my goodness, that's it—I'm having a heart attack. He's killed me.”

“Listen, miss, is there someone I can get for you? Someone who can help you?”

“Florine. Florine will know what to do.”

“Ms. Statton?”

“Yesss!” Sob, cough, wail. “Hurry! Please!”

The sound of the guard's footsteps rattles in the hall. Heading in our direction. Oh no! We didn't think of that. I grab the nearest door handle. Thank goodness, it's unlocked.

“Quick. Inside,” I say.

Marco and Mira duck in. I pull Cole by the collar and slip in behind him just as the guard turns the corner. If he weren't so focused on escaping Lucy, he probably would have noticed the door latching shut.

Portholes line the far wall of the room we hide in. The cellblock stretches out behind it at a right angle, so we can see the exterior of the structure through the window. “Hey,” Marco says. “Check that out.”

The end of the cellblock is aglow with a weird silver light.

“What is that?” I ask.

“That's the occludium shield,” Cole says. “The alien has to be in that cell.”

“That's not all,” Marco says, pointing at the porthole. “The alien's got company.”

Out the window, a couple hundred meters from the space station, a fully manned gunship hovers.

“Whoa,” I say, “that's some serious artillery.” Something heavy fills my belly. Whatever the deal is with the alien, Earth Force has brought out the big guns. Literally. Maybe we should call it off. . . . No, we've come this far. But we need to stay focused. “We've gotta go. Lucy's waiting.”

The others follow me out of the room and around the corner. Lucy stands anxiously by the bioscanner leading to the cellblock.

“What took you so long?” she asks.

“I don't have a tofu face,” Marco says.

“Actually, you kind of do.” Lucy's lips curl. She probably planned that just to take Marco's ego down a few notches.

“Save it for later,” I say, and turn to Cole. “Ready?”

Cole's face has lost a few shades of color, but he doesn't chicken out. He leans into the scanner and doesn't flinch as the laser reads his left lens signature. A few nervous seconds pass before the door buzzes, admitting us to the cellblock.

I toss Lucy her pack. “Okay, here we go. Put on your gloves and make sure you can reach your straps just in case.”

“In case what?” Marco asks. “Cole said this was a dead end. If we're caught, we're caught.”

“Just do it,” I say.

I pull on my gloves and start down the dark hallway lined with empty cells. At the end of the hall, the same silver glow we saw through the portholes casts a crescent beam of light onto the floor in front of the last cell. As we close in, an invisible cord tightens around my neck. I suck in air. A strange metallic scent stings my throat.

Our speed drops off the closer we get to the alien's cell. We grind to a halt at the edge of the silver light.

Even Marco looks scared. “Is that the occludium shield?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I whisper. “We can walk right through it. The shield only prevents bounding.”

Marco takes a sharp breath. “It's what we came for, right?”

I nod, but I can't take that last step.

Mira crosses from the darkness into the sphere of silver. Her eyes—usually so completely disengaged—open wide. I step in after her.

The cell is dark. Darker even than the dimly lit hallway. But the silver glow gives enough light to see. It's a small space. Maybe two by three meters. A raised metal bench lines one wall. A bed, I guess, although not much of one.

On the bed lies the alien. He is stretched out, his feet pointed toward us, his head against the rear wall. Lying there, spread out like he is, he doesn't look that different from one of us. I mean, sure, he looks totally different. But not really. He's resting. Probably dreaming. Dreaming of a better place that isn't dark, that isn't guarded by an occludium shield. Or maybe he's having a nightmare. A nightmare about that gunship hovering a hundred meters away.

Then a stirring. A shifting. And a horrible noise—higher and louder than anything I've ever heard. The noise fills my brain and beats against by eardrums. I half collapse and throw my hands over my ears to block it. But the noise isn't coming from outside. It's coming from inside.