The Search for Artemis (The Chronicles of Landon Wicker) (10 page)

“How long do people stay here?” he asked when he noticed a few people sitting around that looked noticeably older than high school age. “Does the training ever end?”

“Yes, it ends, and I think the age when people complete the training regime averages around twenty years old,” Katie Leigh answered eagerly after breaking from her argument with Riley. “The majority of the graduates never leave, though. They tend to work in the labs, serve as tutors, or even get employed by the Harpers personally. I’m not entirely sure what happens to the one’s that truly leave. They probably just go off and have normal lives.”

Twenty?
At hearing this, Landon couldn’t believe he might spend the next five years of his life at the Gymnasium, but once he thought on it, he realized he didn’t have anywhere else to go, so why not spend it there. Katie Leigh and Riley waited for some response, but as Landon continued to sit pensively, they went back into their heated discussion.

Landon continued his scan of the cafeteria, and with every passing second he became more and more awestruck. There were so many students. They were gathered together in close groups peppered throughout the tables; a line nearly went out the door with people waiting to get their lunch; and more were still filing in.
How could they keep all of this secret?
he wondered. He continued to look around and caught sight of Celia and Parker, perfectly spaced between two larger groups of students, sitting together at the next table over. They both ate in relative silence with Celia occasionally trying to spark up some conversation.

“So what’s with Parker?” Landon blurted out to his tablemates without turning to ensure he had their attention.

“No one really knows, honestly,” Katie Leigh replied.

Riley continued, “Yeah, she’s a bit of a loner. She doesn’t really talk to anyone and keeps to herself, but
no one
messes with her. Well,
typically
no one messes with her. Today was kind of a fluke. She might not hang out with Brock and them, but she’s right up there at their level. I bet having to take the new girl around is killing her.”

For the next hour, while they devoured their massive plates of food, Landon tried to stay focused on all the information Riley gave him on each of the students sitting throughout the lunchroom, but Landon had difficulty keeping up. Riley seemed to know everything about everyone at the Gymnasium. He went person to person, calling out poignant moments from everyone’s past that had landed them in their current social situation. According to him, his current status was only a temporary placement as a “second-string citizen.”

“Now, whatever you do, you don’t want to become an outcast, like Peregrine over there.”

Riley was nearing the end of his internal student directory.

“Who?” Landon asked, trying to focus back on Riley.

“Peregrine Mortimer. That girl sitting over there.”

Riley motioned to a girl about sixteen sitting alone at a distant table. She didn’t look like what he had expected of an outcast, but she did have that typical introspective quality about her. She had a child-of-Oberon look due to her petite frame coupled with short, haphazardly cropped platinum blonde hair and luminescent pale skin. But despite her spritely qualities, she seemed to dress normal enough, and her most striking feature was her violet eyes. Landon thought she was quite beautiful, and he wondered what could be so bad that made her a social leper.

“Yeah, she has it the worst. I’m surprised the Gymnasium actually keeps her around. She can barely lift a book, and in her condition.”

“Her condition?”

“She’s blind,” Katie Leigh interjected.

Landon found himself staring at her, imagining the circumstances that would bring her to a place like the Gymnasium, only to make her an outcast. Suddenly, she raised her head and faced Landon head-on. It was like she was staring right back at him, but her eyes were blank.

“All right, Landon, I think we better get moving. If Dr. Wells wants me to show you around this place, it is going to take a while. It’s huge.”

Riley’s words jolted Landon out of his trance. He rotated around and, grabbed his tray, and stood up. Landon shouted “Goodbye” to Katie Leigh before hurriedly catching up with Riley.

For the rest of the afternoon, Riley led Landon around the Gymnasium. At each of the four corners of the facility there was a massive tower with colossal hallways identical to the ones branching off the Atrium, connecting one to the other. The towers each housed a separate function of the Gymnasium: the Administrative Tower in the southeast; the Library in the southwest; the northeast tower—where they’d had lunch—was the Student Tower; and the northwest tower was off limits to the general student population—Riley just referred to it as the Restricted Tower. And he didn’t seem to have any idea what went on there. To access the individual floors of each tower, one had to take the main stairs off the giant hallways or use the hidden stairwells that exited into the Atrium.

Riley took Landon through each floor of each tower in perfect tour guide fashion. On the base floor of the Administrative Tower resided the medical wing, which Landon already knew far too well, with the scientists’ labs above it, then the faculty offices. and the tutoring rooms for their normal scholastic education.

The majority of the Student Tower was filled with the student dormitories, but speckled throughout the floors were the cafeteria, recreation area and some study rooms.

The training facilities, where Landon would be learning to control his newfound powers, were in the northwest wing of the Gymnasium adjacent to the Restricted Tower and could only be accessed by the enclosed staircase in the Atrium.

After what seemed like hours, Riley concluded the tour by bringing Landon to the Library. Riley explained to Landon that it was probably the least frequented area of the entire facility, but as they entered, Landon had a near out-of-body experience. From the outside, the tower may have looked square, but inside it was a goliath rotunda. Books upon books covered its outer walls, creating a tube of literary masterpieces, and running up its center, a wide spiral ramp wound up to the ceiling.

Landon bolted up the ramp without even telling Riley where he was going. He moved quickly around, pressing up the incline, catching book titles as he breezed by, and noticed that occasionally, small doors led into secluded reading areas with more books shelved all around. The entire time, Riley stood in the center of the rotunda floor, watching the strange behavior of his companion.

Landon ran from one floor to another and disappeared for minutes on end into the back rooms. After a while of this, Riley finally saw him emerge and head back down to the ground floor. As Landon reached him, Riley noticed that he was carrying something.

“What’s that you got?”

“Oh, it’s just
Treasure Island
,” Landon replied, holding the book up in his hand so Riley could see it. “I
really
needed something to read.”

“You are one weird guy, you know that? Apart from Katie, I have never seen someone act like that when they came in here.” Riley looked all around as he spoke, as if he was looking for someone to agree with him, but found no one.

Landon never replied. He just looked down at the worn cover of the old leather-bound copy of his favorite childhood story. It was soft, worn from countless reads, but there were a few small rough bumps where water had obviously seeped into the leather. Landon didn’t mind at all. After being brought to this place, he’d realized he might be able to survive at the Gymnasium after all.

Following their visit to the Library, it was already time for dinner. The sun was setting and the Atrium emitted a vibrant pink light throughout the halls of the facility. Landon wasn’t hungry after the gargantuan meal he devoured at lunch, but he joined Riley for a quick bite before they headed to his new living quarters. As they walked down the hallway, Riley pulled Landon’s schedule out of his back pocket.

“All right, so we need to head up to the fourth floor. Your room is up there,” Riley said as he read through the text on the page. They started walking that way while Riley continued to read. “Today’s Tuesday, so it looks like you have Telekinetics tomorrow morning at nine as well as on Fridays and Mondays. Huh . . . I’m in that same session, so I guess I’ll see you there.”

“But I thought you’ve been here for two years?” Landon worriedly asked. “Why would they put me in the same session with you? I’m not ready for that.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. They place you in the levels where they think you are most prepared. You must be farther along than most people coming in. And Telekinetics is more about control, not power, so everyone is always working on the same thing.”

Landon stared ahead nervously.

How could I be farther along than most people?
he thought as they moved through the facility.

Riley didn’t pay any attention to Landon’s fear-struck facial expression and continued to read through Landon’s schedule.

“Tactometry’s on Tuesday and Thursday mornings. You’re so lucky to only have that twice a week, let me tell you.”

“I don’t even know what it is.” Landon felt himself getting more and more anxious, clamming up with every class Riley rattled off.

“You remember Dr. Wells talking about extensity and tactometric spheres in orientation? Your reach? Tactometry’s supposed to train you to”—Riley altered his voice to what Landon imagined was supposed to resemble a pompous professor—“‘broaden your extensity and hone your sensitivity.’ But it’s more like glorified meditation for three hours twice a week. You just sit there with your eyes closed, ‘feeling the world around you.’

“And you have Thought Reception in the afternoons on the same days you have Tactometry. It looks like we will be together in that one too. Your tutoring sessions where they’ll teach you math and science and stuff are after lunch on Mondays and Wednesdays. That’s not too bad.

“So now,”—Riley looked up from the paper for the first time since they left the Library—“let’s find your room.”

Landon followed closely, watching as Riley searched the room numbers above the doors. Landon had no idea what room he was assigned. Riley never said it aloud. Eventually, Riley stopped.

“So here we are, room 498. Wait—no way! You can’t be serious!” Riley’s voice turned from one of a gracious host leading his guest to their appropriate lodgings to one of an obsessed conspiracy theorist who just received crucial evidence from an anonymous source.

“What? What is it?”

“You’re roommate . . . it’s Brock. You’re sharing a room with Brock Holbrooke!”

“Are you sure?” Landon shakily asked.

“Yeah, this is supposed to be your room—498. Your name’s right there under Brock’s.”

Riley stepped away from the door and pointed to a small placard mounted to the right of the doorway. On it, a card with Landon’s name was in the slot below “Brock Holbrooke.” Landon stared wide-eyed at the sign. Riley had overwhelmed him with feelings of unpreparedness as he went through his schedule, and now he was to bunk with the alpha male of the Gymnasium’s elite. Landon wasn’t ready for any of it.

After a few deep breaths, Landon stepped up to the door, hesitantly turned the handle and walked in. The room was pitch black, and the air felt dungeonous and suffocating. Being one of the interior rooms, there were no windows to cast any natural light or get any air circulation. Landon flicked up the light switch, and the room’s overhead bulbs turned on with blinding intensity. Landon let out a sigh of relief, though, when he saw Brock wasn’t there.

The room was in perfect symmetry. On either side, an extra-long twin bed jutted out with the headboards pushed up against the back wall. Next to Landon’s bed was a small, two-drawer wooden nightstand and a little double bookshelf, and each had their own four-drawer dresser and a desk with a rolling chair along the side walls. But even with its symmetrical layout, it wasn’t difficult for Landon to distinguish Brock’s side from his.

Brock’s bed was covered in disheveled blue sheets and an overstuffed comforter. A couple of drawers were ajar and loose articles of clothing and toiletries covered his dresser. His desk had papers strewn everywhere, and a stack of books was haphazardly piled up on his nightstand.

Landon, however, was welcomed with a neat stack of white sheets and a green comforter folded flawlessly at the foot of his naked mattress. His shelf contained a small collection of books lined up from tallest to shortest, and his desk was clear, except for a brand new laptop and a desk lamp. Landon set the copy of
Treasure Island
on his desk as he walked over to the dresser.

He opened his drawers to find them stuffed with pairs of pajamas, t-shirts, sweaters, pants, shorts, underwear and socks that weren’t his. His closet wasn’t any different. Jackets, an assortment of long-sleeve and short-sleeve oxfords and a few pairs of dress trousers lined the racks, and the closet floor was covered in at least twelve pairs of shoes in all styles.

“Everything okay?” Riley asked. Landon had forgotten Riley was still standing beside the door.

“Is this all Brock’s?” Landon asked.

Riley walked over to the closet and inspected one of the dress shirts that were hanging on the pole. “Nope, it’s too small. . . . I actually think it’s yours” he said. He continued to peruse the closet, pulling miscellaneous pieces off the rack and scrutinizing them for a few moments before wedging them back into place. Riley spent a bit longer inspecting a green, felt basketball jacket with a ribbed neckline, cuffs and hem. “Can I have this?” he asked shamelessly.

Can this all really be for me? Who bought it? Where did it come frome?
Landon was having difficulty wrapping his head around everything. When he was woken up that morning, he had no idea how much his life would change by dinner time. He wasn’t sure how to react to it all. Then he noticed an old pair of pants lying in the seat of his desk chair.