The Hadley Academy for the Improbably Gifted

by Conor Grennan

  “I’m trying to get you to answer my question!”

  “You know why I went to see Darius,” he said. “We have twenty-four hours before we’re dishonorably discharged: memories wiped.”

  Asha stood in front of Voss with her hand out like a traffic cop. Finally, he stopped. The fog dissipated.

  “You asked Darius for something. What was it, Voss?” she asked.

  He stared around at them before finally speaking. “I asked her for help. And she agreed. We can get an honorable discharge if we leave tonight. She wants us out of here too. This whole guardian theory is becoming a distraction that could split the Council,” he told them. “We leave, she benefits.”

  “She told you this?” Freddy asked, incredulous.

  “We’re getting our memories of this place wiped out, don’t you get it?” Voss asked. “It doesn’t matter anymore what she tells us. We get our lives back.”

  “What if the Bulgarian was right?” Asha demanded. “What if we can make a difference here? This is bigger than your wanting to go home, you selfish jerk!”

  “You don’t know what I was dealing with back at home.” Voss’s words came flooding out. “If we get a dishonorable discharge, they scrape our memories of way more than just Hadley. It will change us. I have a little sister. What if she gets in trouble? What if I forget how to protect her? Call that selfish if you want.” He glanced at Asha, already anticipating her protests. “But we all listened to Superior Blue. That whole dead zone thing isn’t evidence. It’s nothing!”

  “Voss, listen to me,” Jack said. “I’m as skeptical about all this as you are. But Superior Blue and Alexander both said that no hacker could have created that kind of power and surveillance outage. What if that really was Wyeth?”

  “Blue and Alexander are wrong about this one. That dead zone wasn’t unique to Wyeth.”

  “How can you know that?” Jack insisted, feeling more desperate by the second.

  “He knows because he made one,” Freddy interrupted. He nodded at Voss. “Right Voss? You’ve created a dead zone like that before. Haven’t you?”

  Voss stood, tense, like a statue. “What do you know?”

  “What do I know,” Freddy repeated thoughtfully. He hopped up on a boulder to the side of the path and gazed off into the woods. “What do I know . . . ?” He cracked his knuckles before he hopped back down and walked straight up to Voss. “I know you’re not the type to give up. You care more than you let people know. And though it pains me to say it—and it does pain me—you are way, way smarter than you let on. Which means if you are giving up, then you’ve figured out that Wyeth can’t be alive and that all this guardian stuff is a ridiculous myth.”

  Freddy paused. “How am I doing so far?”

  Voss didn’t say a word.

  “To come to the conclusion that Wyeth can’t be alive, you’d have to debunk the existing evidence that Wyeth is alive—or at least debunk the existing hypothesis,” Freddy continued. “And there’s really only one piece of evidence that the Bulgarian relied on, outside the prophecies of the Grays: the dead zone.”

  Freddy turned to Jack and Asha. “But how could Voss debunk that? What would make him certain that the dead zone wasn’t unique to Wyeth?” he asked.

  Freddy glanced at Voss. “You want to tell them . . . ? Or should I?”

  Freddy waved to somebody behind Voss. “Hey, Core! You guys heading to the library?”

  Team Four was coming up the path. Three of the recruits passed them, but Core, the small redheaded kid, slowed down. “The lab, actually. Weaponized Chem officially starts tomorrow, but I already drew up a new compound for this awesome paralytic. Instructor Vishnarama’s letting me mix it tonight. You wanna come? I’ll make you a batch.”

  “Can’t right now,” Freddy apologized. “But you keep doing your chemistry thing. You’ll be a reaper-destroying machine, bro.”

  Core sniffed. “Tell that to Santori next time I humiliate myself on the Bridge.” He glanced at Voss. “Hey. I saw you toss Miles across the Barracks. That was pretty cool.”

  Voss just grunted. Freddy waved as Core hurried to catch up to his team up the path.

  Freddy turned back to Voss. “So? You gonna tell everyone what you are or not?”

  Voss just glared. Freddy shrugged. “My guess is that you’re a hacker,” Freddy said. “A closet-genius, military-grade super hacker. You’ve figured out, theoretically, how to create a dead zone. And if you could do it, you figure somebody else has figured it out too. Right?”

  “Voss is a Kinetic,” Asha said, confused. “His spade is strength.”

  “His spade name isn’t about brute strength, though, is it?” Freddy held a finger up in discovery. “His spade name is Torque. And I finally remembered where else I’d heard that name. Torque. Ring any bells, Jack?”

  Jack had a moment of clarity. “The Torque Syndicate.”

  “The Torque Syndicate,” Freddy said, pointing at him. “Exactly.”

  “What’s that?” Asha asked.

  Of course Asha had missed the sensational headlines about the Torque Syndicate over the past year. The world’s most nefarious hacker syndicate had destroyed corporate mainframes they’d deemed to be evil. They had manipulated elections in corrupt countries, handing unlikely victories to young opponents bent on change and empowerment. The Torque Syndicate and its members were viewed as heroes by many.

  “You worked for the Torque Syndicate?” Jack asked, still confused.

  “You guys stole 280 million.” Freddy whistled. Public opinion had soured when the Torque Syndicate stole 280 million dollars from Global Trust. At first it seemed like a prank. But the money disappeared, along with all traces of the Torque Syndicate.

  “Not a bad payday,” Freddy noted. “So what did you do for them, Voss? What was your specialty?”

  Voss chewed his bottom lip before he finally spoke. “It was just me,” he said slowly. “I was the Torque Syndicate. I did it alone.”

  Jack raised his eyebrows. “That’s impossible.”

  “Improbable,” Asha corrected quietly.

  “Improbable,” Voss repeated, as if trying on the word. He rubbed his chin, reliving some memory, before he looked up at Freddy. “You’re right,” he said. “About everything. Except I didn’t actually create a surveillance dead zone. I got close, but I never figured it out. But I figured somebody must’ve done it. There must be a better hacker than me out there. And that’s a whole lot more believable than a dead Reaper King coming back to life.”

  “What if there isn’t a better hacker out there?” Freddy asked earnestly. “What if nobody can do what you can do? Doesn’t that leave some doubt in your mind? Maybe Wyeth did create it.”

  “Wait. You have 280 million dollars?” Jack asked.

  “It wasn’t for me.” Voss slumped down on the boulder by the side of the path. “I was blackmailed. Somebody found out who I was. They threatened my little sister. I had no choice, man. Those sickos made me steal it, then they turned me in to the FBI.”

  “They threatened your little sister?” Asha asked angrily. “People who threaten kids should be jailed for life. No parole. I’m serious.”

  “Why did they turn you in to the FBI?” Jack asked. “You helped them.”

  “Because they knew I’d come after them,” Voss growled. “They knew if I had access to a laptop I’d hunt them down and launch a missile at them. For two months, I didn’t even go online, bro. But the FBI tracked me down a couple of days ago. The SWAT team stormed the apartment, cuffed me, threw me in the back of a van. Then the van stopped, and I heard this scuffle. The door swung open, a recruiter pulled me out, and next thing I know we’re stepping through a portal.”

  “So if you go back . . .” Asha started.

  “I go to prison for funding a terrorist organization. Which I’m actually guilty of. Life in prison. Life.” He looked up at Freddy. “You wanna know why I cut a deal with Darius? ’Cause if we get mind-scraped and I get sent back home, the F
BI will have me locked up in twenty-four hours. I won’t even remember that I gotta run from them. Man, I won’t even know why they’re locking me up.”

  “Voss,” Asha said. “There’s a chance—a small chance but a chance—that Wyeth is alive, and he made the dead zone. Isn’t it worth it to—?”

  “Risk my life? To you maybe. It sure ain’t worth it to me.” Voss pushed himself up and tried a different tack. “Listen, all this, getting drafted in here, everything—it’s all based on Wyeth being alive. But if he were alive, Director Darius would be on to him. She’s brilliant. And she’s completely rejected the idea.”

  Voss turned to Asha. “Darius’s deal is simple. We can go back to our lives. I get a new identity. We all come out okay.”

  “You have any idea what happens if I get sent back to my life, Voss?” Asha asked coldly.

  “I ain’t saying you had a great life, Asha.”

  “You’re so consumed with poor Voss. With where your recruiter found you. With how you can’t possibly go back,” Asha said, shoving Voss in the chest. “You never even asked where my recruiter found me.”

  “You were homeschooled, I get it.”

  “I wasn’t homeschooled. You have your labels for everyone, and that’s all you need. ‘Asha is sheltered. Asha has anxiety.’ Well, I don’t care about your opinion of me, Voss.” Asha was angrier than Jack had ever seen her. “I spent years trying to escape. I finally did, and still I would have been caught if the recruiter hadn’t gotten to me first. This place saved my life.”

  “Escaped what?” Freddy asked.

  Asha’s jaw muscles squeezed like a vise as she bit down on her thumbnail. “I’m not going back. Do I need to tell you more than that?”

  Voss was quiet for a long moment. He shook his head. “Nah.” He turned to Freddy and Jack. “All right, forget it. Forget Darius.”

  Asha took a subtle, deep breath, as if she was calming herself down.

  “So you’re staying?” Freddy asked Voss. “I give you all these brilliant theories and reasons to stay, and Asha just asks you to stay, and you stay?”

  “Your theories are crazy.”

  “You’re not answering the question.”

  “I’m going back to the Watchtower, and I’m going to bed,” Voss said. “Tomorrow is day three. It’s our last shot at the Dome. And this time we’re not going to fail.”

  Jack stared at the thirteenth door. Its copper construction stood out from the other twelve doors of polished steel.

  Team Thirteen had completed their third day of classes. In Weaponized Chemistry they manufactured a temporary-blindness chemical as a nonlethal weapon against hostile civilians. The delivery system for the chemical resembled a miniature pan flute. Core had been excused from the lesson to work with Boris Kleptov, who was on the other side of the lab turning houseplants into steel. Core, who clearly had some kind of chemistry spade, appeared close to developing a concoction to turn the steel back into plant life. Team Thirteen had spent the rest of the day learning to navigate a crumbling, exploding apartment building in Escapes; completing another harrowing blade-agility lesson with Santori on the Bridge; and visiting the library’s manifestation ring for Reapers 101, where Suzuki taught them how reapers attacked.

  Between classes they had brainstormed and hypothesized about what Jack’s spade could be. Freddy had made Jack try everything: lifting stones, cutting through walls with his mind, turning a roll into a donut. Jack had humored Freddy for most of it, but he didn’t have any idea what his breakthrough was supposed to look like. Dr. Horn couldn’t even find a spade inside him. What chance did he have?

  And now they stood in front of the thirteenth door of the Dome. The third and final day. Their last chance.

  Behind them, the Forty-Eight and a few stray faculty members murmured indistinctly. Jack wondered if crowds sounded the same across cultures and languages. As he stared at the back of Voss’s head, he wondered whether he could pick out individual voices if he listened hard enough. But he didn’t want to hear what anyone was saying. He focused on the cawing of Alexander’s ravens in the trees surrounding the amphitheater.

  Jack liked Alexander’s ravens. It was nuts that he could talk to them, but it was wonderful, like so many things at Hadley. If the door didn’t open, if Dr. Horn scraped his memories, he wouldn’t remember the ravens or Alexander. He wouldn’t recognize Voss on the street, or Asha either. Or even Freddy.

  And he wouldn’t remember Claire.

  Jack snatched the thought back. He wouldn’t think about her. He wouldn’t think about how she was less than thirty feet behind him. Watching. Was she hoping the door opened? Or was she hoping he would wash out?

  Jack stared at his band. It would glow yellow. It would vibrate. They’d come so far—it had to.

  He stared at it. He tried to think only of the band. But it was Claire in his head. For her, he thought. He squeezed his eyes shut and focused all his energy on the door before them. Open for her.

  Then, a chime. Jack’s eyes popped open.

  The Dome had sounded its tone. The golden light blinked off. The Dome powered down. There was no other sound in the amphitheater.

  Instructor Bakari approached. He clasped his hands behind his back, then looked past Team Thirteen into the amphitheater. Superior Blue walked slowly down the steps. He reached the bottom and stopped to stare at each of them in turn.

  “I’m sorry, Team Thirteen. By the binding order of the Council, you are dismissed from the Hadley Academy,” Superior Blue announced. “Please report to my office so we can arrange your mind-scrape and your reentry into your lives in the dormant world. I wish you the best of luck in your futures.”

  CHAPTER 15

  THE GIRL IN THE BLUE DRESS

  Asha sat cross-legged on the floor of Superior Blue’s office. Balanced on her left knee, her homemade spinner whirred so fast that it appeared to be moving backward. Tiny sparks flew and singed the thick carpet as she gingerly soldered closed what looked like the shell of a softball-sized robotic ladybug. She inserted the intel chip she had borrowed from Alexander, then sat back as it took off, buzzing lazily around Superior Blue’s wall of bookshelves. The creation circled higher and higher with a rapid clicking of metal against metal. Asha wrung her hands, shaking them out before picking her spinner back up.

  The door opened, and Voss stormed back in, twisting his band nervously. One by one they were escorted out of Superior Blue’s office and into a small room off the hallway, where a woman in white sat at a desk. She instructed Jack to place his band on a dark marble slab on the desk. Then she studied a glass tablet in front of her. Jack asked if this was part of the mind-scrape.

  “The mind-scrape will happen tomorrow morning,” the woman informed him. “This is to determine how to best reintegrate you into your former life.” She reached out and patted his arm. “Don’t worry. Your case is quite straightforward. I’ll have you out of here in a couple of minutes.”

  Sure enough, a few minutes later Jack was back in Superior Blue’s office. Asha took almost half an hour. Voss, the last of them to go, also was in with the woman for what seemed like an eternity. Now he paced the room.

  “Maybe I tattoo myself a note onto my skin to remind me who I am and who I’m running from,” he said. “Or I could brand myself—”

  “I would do that in a second if it would help me,” Asha mumbled. “But it won’t. It’s over. We’re going back.”

  This is my fault, Jack thought, over and over. He was the only dormant. He was the reason the Dome didn’t let them in. Everyone else had shouldered their burden.

  Jack thought about Claire. He couldn’t leave her with Miles. He had to do something. But what? He was useless to the Hadley Academy. He was not the hero that Superior Blue had believed him to be. He had been unable to offer any proof that he was special in any way.

  Jack sat up. “What if I prove that I’m the Guardian?” he asked suddenly. “When Superior Blue walks in here, what if I give him actual evidence
that he can take to the Council? They would have to give us another chance.”

  Voss just snorted. But Freddy jumped up. “Yes. Great idea. How are you going to do that?”

  Jack cleared his throat. “That’s where you come in, Freddy. You’re the Theoric with incongruous logic. You’re the idea guy.”

  Freddy’s eyes widened. “Wait. Are you the Guardian?”

  “Of course not. I’m asking how we make them think I am.”

  “Okay. Not a problem.” Freddy paced back and forth, crossing paths with Voss. He scratched his chin, pursed his lips, and squinted at the ceiling. Voss stopped to watch Freddy.

  Freddy screeched to a halt and pointed at Jack. “You have to know something that you couldn’t possibly know unless you really are the Guardian.”

  Jack nodded. “That’s not a bad idea. Like what?”

  Freddy squeezed his eyes shut and vigorously scratched his scalp, as if trying to jump-start his brain. Then his eyes popped open. “The dead zone. That’s what they’ve been trying to figure out, right? That’s the evidence that Wyeth is back. You have to give them something about the dead zone.”

  Voss crossed his arms. “You can’t just make something up. They’ll know you’re lying.”

  “Not make it up,” Jack said thoughtfully. “We’ll tell Superior Blue something that only he would know.”

  “Director Darius,” Asha corrected, putting down the spinner. “Blue already believes us. If we tell Darius something only she would know, she will have to let us stay. It would at least indicate that Jack is someone special.”

  Jack spied something on the Superior’s desk. A glass tablet. “This must be a terminal,” Jack said, walking over. “He’s gotta have access to everything on here. Including stuff that could convince Darius.” He swiped his band across it. The screen glowed red.

  “Of course, it’s encrypted,” Voss said.

  One by one, they all looked at him.

  “So get us in. Alexander gave you the spin cipher,” Asha said. “It’s not like we have anything to lose.”

  Voss hesitated for a moment. Then he strode over, tapping his band. The spin cipher hovered over his wrist. Voss took the sphere and spun the symbols in different directions. The others sat back to watch.