by Zac Harrison
She would have been with Mordant Talliver all morning, which meant plenty of chances for him to insult and bully her.
John had a troubling suspicion that he’d find her in tears. Maybe she was even hiding in her dorm.
But no — there she was, sitting on her own by the central lake, drinking something pink and foamy through a bendy straw, and looking perfectly fine! Even better than fine, John thought. He hurried over to join her.
“Hey!” she said happily. “How’s it going? Having fun with Galactic Battle?”
“They made me team leader!”
“No way!” she said, laughing.
“I know. I was amazed, too.”
“That’s awesome! You’ll do great. I know you will.”
“Oh, it’s early yet,” John said hesitantly. “We’re a bit rough around the edges. Well, okay, we’re very rough. At least we haven’t had to call in the Meteor Medics . . . not so far, anyway.”
Emmie shuddered. “Don’t talk about the Meteor Medics. I’m trying not to think about ending up in the medical wing.”
“I thought zero-G acrobatics was safe?”
“It’s supposed to be. But check this out. For our Space Spectacular performance, they’re projecting a ZeBub on the stage. You know what that is, right?”
“A zero-gravity bubble?” John guessed.
“Exactly! And we all get to fling each other around inside it, doing flips and somersaults and midair spins and cool stuff like that. Which is fine . . . so long as your partner doesn’t throw you out of the ZeBub. You know, by accident.” She gave John a significant look.
John put two and two together. “Your partner wouldn’t happen to be Mordant Talliver, would it?”
“He’s our team leader,” she said, sighing. “So he got to choose.” She slurped her drink noisily. “I volunteered as leader, too, but Mordant dropped some nasty hints about ‘accidents’ that might happen if he wasn’t chosen. Nobody wanted to take the risk. Zero-G acrobatics is dangerous enough!”
John’s flesh was crawling at the thought of Emmie’s life in Mordant Talliver’s hands. “Accidents,” Mordant had said. John knew all too well what that could mean.
“How’s he been with you lately?” John asked. “Is he still acting, you know, weird?”
“That’s the part I don’t understand!” Emmie whispered. “He’s being so nice!”
John was about to tell her not to trust Mordant, especially if he was acting nice, but he never got the chance. Suddenly Mordant himself was at the table, appearing silently from out of the crowds. G-Vez bobbed along behind him, the obedient servant as always.
“Sorry to butt in,” Mordant said with a grin. “Emmie, we need to go. Afternoon practice starts in five minutes, remember? I said only twenty minutes for lunch.”
“Oh, no,” Emmie said, standing up. “I can’t believe it. I lost track of time!”
Mordant patted her arm, which made John’s blood pressure skyrocket. He said to her in a smooth voice, “Don’t sweat it. I know I’m pushing the team hard. I just want us to wow every single person who comes to watch.”
“You’re not angry?”
“Of course not. We’re on the same team. I’ve got your back.”
“Thanks, Mordant,” Emmie said, sounding wary that Mordant’s behavior was too good to be true.
John wanted to ask the half-Gargon where the real Mordant Talliver had gone. Was he tied up in his dorm? Was this some shape-shifting alien that had taken his place?
Mordant turned to go.
Emmie rushed off behind him, calling back over her shoulder. “John? I’ll see you and Kaal for dinner later on, yeah?”
“Sure. Later, Emmie.”
What Emmie had told John had begun to eat away at him. Emmie’s life in Mordant’s hands? John already knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep at night thinking about it.
There were so many different ways Mordant could hurt her in zero-G acrobatics, and Emmie was right — it would be easy to make it look like an accident, even with everyone watching. John clenched his fist, thinking of what he’d do if Mordant hurt his friend.
But physical injury wasn’t really Mordant’s style. And anyway, he’d had plenty of chances to hurt Emmie already but hadn’t. Mordant could usually be counted on to make some snarky comment or other, teasing her for being slow in class. But by the sound of it, he’d been polite. Better than polite. He’d been nice.
“Stop stressing,” John said to himself. “He’s just buttering her up because he’s team leader and he wants everyone’s support, that’s all. You don’t have anything to worry about.”
John made his way back to where Kaal and Kritta were sitting. Tarope, Monix, and Dyfi had joined them, and they were all eating Blargon burgers with Pepperdust fries. The Blargon burgers quivered like rubber, and they squeaked like dog toys when you bit into them.
Kritta was in the middle of gossiping with Dyfi when John arrived. “Can you believe it? That claw-varnish cost Shazilda tons of credit —” She broke off when she spotted John. “Hi, John, I saved you a chair!” she said. Then she turned back to Dyfi. “And Ms. Skrinel just confiscated it in front of everyone! I know it glows pretty bright and Shaz shouldn’t have been putting it on in class, but seriously, how harsh is that?”
“Totally,” Dyfi said. “Hey, Kaal, are you going to eat that?”
“Hmm?” said Kaal dreamily. His Blargon burger lay untouched in front of him, and only a few of his Pepperdust fries had been eaten. He was staring at Kritta as if she’d hypnotized him.
What was going on?
It dawned on John that Derrilians ate insects. This could be bad. It would really mess things up if Kaal couldn’t help seeing Kritta as a huge Sunday roast. He was sure the rules didn’t allow one team member to eat another!
John quickly gobbled down some delicious potato skins with cheese and bacon.
He had to admit, Zepp had made his lunch perfectly this time. The cheese was melted just right, the butter was soft and golden, the bacon was extra crisp, and the actual potato was still there! In the past, Zepp had peeled the potato and sent John a plate with just the skin peelings on it.
“We’d better get going,” Monix said.
She sounds so sure of herself, John thought, anyone would think she is the leader.
Kaal left the table, carrying his barely touched lunch with him, and went to empty his tray into the auto-recycle machines. As soon as he was gone, Kritta leaned over the table and whispered to John, “I’ve got a confession to make. Don’t be mad, okay?”
“Um . . . really?” was all John could think of to say.
“I’m a huge fan of yours,” Kritta clicked. “Like, really huge. Ever since Robot Warriors. I’m so glad we’re on the same team! It means we can spend much more time together.”
Before she could say anything else, Kaal returned and they all headed out of the Center together. John’s thoughts were in a whirl. He couldn’t help feeling he was missing something obvious, something he’d kick himself over later. But right now, this felt like yet one more expectation to live up to.
Great. Kritta’s a big fan, and now I get to be her team leader. No pressure there . . .
“How do we get to the Belly, anyway?” Dyfi asked, still sounding uncertain about the whole trip.
John activated Ton-3, who sprang up from the team sheet immediately. She was wearing a helmet with a light on it.
“To access the Belly, take service elevator sixty-eight down to level minus four,” she explained. “Then follow the corridor straight ahead until you reach the holding cell where the Defendroids are kept. You can’t miss it!”
“Service elevator?” said Kritta. “Ew.”
John stopped outside a pair of gray, industrial-looking sliding doors. “Um. I think we’re here, guys.”
“Are you sure that’s not t
he waste compactor?” Monix asked.
John pressed the big yellow button beside the doors, and they hissed open to reveal a cramped metal interior. “It looks like an elevator to me.”
“Let’s hope so,” Tarope said darkly. “Those would be terrible last words.”
“How are we all going to fit in there?” Monix complained. “Can’t we go down separately, in two elevators, one after another?”
“No!” yelped Dyfi. “All together, or I’m not going! We don’t know what’s down there waiting for us in the Belly, and I’ve heard some nasty rumors.”
“Strength in numbers,” said Kritta. “She’s got a point.”
“Okay,” John said. He sighed, sure that Dyfi was just getting worked up over nothing. “Let’s do this.”
Getting everyone in took a lot of squeezing and shuffling. In the end, Kaal was wedged in a corner, Monix hovered by the ceiling, Dyfi cowered on the floor in the middle of everyone, Tarope was jammed against Kaal’s left wing, and Kritta was pressed up so uncomfortably close to John that his chin was on top of her head.
He pressed the button for level minus four, and the lift trundled down into the darkness. Nobody spoke. The lights on the elevator panel steadily ticked down, reaching the main level, numbered zero — and then down even farther.
From somewhere below came a sudden metallic screech. Kritta gasped, and Dyfi made a frightened peeping noise.
“That was just the elevator, you guys,” Tarope said, sounding like he wanted to believe it.
All too soon, the doors hissed open.
After the tight, cramped elevator, the huge open tunnels of the Belly were a surprise.
It’s almost like a cathedral, John thought.
Huge, steely pillars rose into unseen heights, and shafts of dim light broke the gloom. But it was all too easy to imagine sinister figures lurking high in the shadows, waiting to pounce.
Up above, a tiny hovering shape ducked quickly out of sight. In a flash of silver it was gone.
A bat? Don’t be stupid, Riley. This is a spaceship, not Dracula’s castle! John tried to reassure himself.
“What is this place?” Dyfi said.
“Storage, mostly,” said Monix. “This is where the droids live, out of sight of the rest of the ship.”
“I’m not scared of a few old robots,” muttered Tarope. But then something made the loud sound of a rattling chain, and he gave a sudden little croak of fear.
“Defendroids aren’t robots like you’re used to,” Monix said. “They’re dangerous. Like guard beasts.”
“Right,” John said, feeling like he had to call things to order. “Ton-3 said to go this way.”
“Are you sure?” Kritta said nervously. “This way doesn’t look very welcoming.”
John referred to the team sheet again, and the hologram of Ton-3 flashed up before them. “That is correct. But take care, Galactic Battle team,” she said mysteriously before disappearing again.
Right on cue, a low mechanical growl came from the shadows. There was the sound of metal scraping against metal.
Kritta grabbed hold of John’s arm and clung to him tightly. “I really don’t want to be here.”
Kaal reached out for Kritta’s other arm. “It’s okay, Kritta,” he said. “This pair of Robot Warrior champions won’t let anything hurt you.”
“Come on, everyone,” John insisted. “Let’s not get too worked up over this, okay?” But in spite of his words, his own heart was beating fast as he led them through the dark tunnels. If the robots were as scary as they sounded, he wasn’t sure he wanted to meet them face-to-face.
As the group turned a corner, John glimpsed a skeletal robot form looming through the shadows. A sinister red light pulsed from its gleaming metal skull.
It turned to face the group and began to run toward them in a lurching stride . . .
CHAPTER 5
Dyfi squeaked and hid behind John’s leg.
“It’s okay!” John said. “It’s only Master Tronic, here to meet us already. See?”
“Oh,” Dyfi said, poking her head out. “Sorry, sir. You scared me!”
“Think nothing of it,” Master Tronic said. “I’m used to the students not recognizing me at first.”
John understood what Master Tronic meant. The technology teacher changed his body to match whatever he was teaching. Right now, he was a lean robot with four tool-tipped arms, which was perfect for teaching electronic maintenance and repair. The only thing that never changed was the red light beam from his head.
“So, Galactic Battle team,” said Master Tronic, “are you ready to meet the Defendroids? There are six of them, which is why this team is limited to six students.”
He gestured behind him to a large reinforced window, behind which several huge shadowy shapes paced back and forth in near darkness. They looked twice as tall as Master Tronic. Mechanical roars and snarls came from within. The door beside the window looked like it could withstand a nuclear missile strike.
John and the others looked at each other nervously.
“Well, don’t all charge forward at once,” Master Tronic said, his voice heavy with synthetic sarcasm. “Come on, team. You need to get a good look at them while they’re in full aggression mode. I don’t want you to forget what you’re dealing with.”
I guess this is where the leader has to set the example, John thought. Nobody wants to be the first one. Even Monix looks worried. But if I don’t go, nobody else ever will.
John stepped forward, walking slowly until he was right in front of the window. Kritta followed behind, then all the others. The Defendroids inside were still hard to see in the dark, but John saw an enormous metal claw brush by the window, and his heart thumped painfully in his chest.
“That’s better,” said Master Tronic. “And now . . .” He flipped open a control panel next to the window and pressed a switch. Instantly, light flooded the room inside.
Everyone gasped, including John.
The six Defendroids were roughly human-shaped, but they each had two arms: one ending in a spiked, lumpy sphere and the other in a long curved blade. Their faces looked like they were full of brute anger, with big jutting chins and tiny little red eyes.
“Technically, they’re called DF-221 to DF-226,” said Master Tronic, “but I have my own names for them. Basher, Lasher, Slicer, Dicer, Crusher, and Steel Storm.”
“Cute names!” John said sarcastically.
The Defendroids stomped back and forth, swiveling their heads to the left and right — and sometimes, frighteningly, all the way around to face in the other direction. When they did that, their arms and legs rotated in their sockets to match the direction of their head, and the robot stomped off back the way it had come, without having to turn around.
From time to time, the robots would roar and bash the ground or the walls, sending a tremor through the floor. It was as if they had to attack or they would go crazy from imprisonment.
“As you can see,” Master Tronic said, “they are heavily armed. One wrecking-ball arm, one blade arm with extendable circular saw. They can stamp with the force of a pile driver, electrify their limbs, and even extend the wrecking ball on a chain to ensnare their opponents.”
“I’m not sure if that’s the scariest thing I’ve ever seen, or the coolest,” Tarope said.
“Why are these things called Defendroids, anyway?” Kritta asked. “The way they’re acting, shouldn’t they be Attackdroids or something like that?”
“These beauties are part of the school’s defense system,” Master Tronic explained proudly. “Right now they’re in full aggression mode. We keep them that way when they’re in storage, because if the school was ever attacked, they’d need to be sent in to fight the intruders right away.”
“We can’t fight them, even with LaserPros!” Monix complained. “They’ll crush us to
a pulp!”
“We didn’t invite the entire school’s parents to Hyperspace High to watch their children go splat,” Master Tronic said. “Pay attention, all of you. Whenever you use the Defendroids to spar with, you have to switch them over to training mode. Like this.”
Master Tronic pressed a sequence of keys on the control panel at the door, and a strange blue pulsing light began to ripple through the cell. The Defendroids stopped their constant stomping and stood still, arms hanging by their sides. Without the roaring and crashing, it was suddenly deathly quiet.
“They’ll still fight, of course,” Master Tronic said, “but it’s strictly nonlethal. Oh, they’ll put on a good show, but the chances of anyone actually getting injured are very slim indeed.”
“Well, that’s good to know,” Monix said in an icy tone.
Master Tronic ignored her. “John, the passcode to put the robots in training mode is SOMNOLA, and the code to set them back to full aggression mode is LEXTALIONIS. Don’t ever, ever open this door without entering the training code first. Not unless you want to spend the Space Spectacular in the medical wing!”
“Got the message loud and clear, sir,” John said, committing the codes to memory. “Thanks.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something zip away in the upper shadows. The flying thing again! Or was he seeing things?
Master Tronic activated another control, and the great door groaned open with a hiss of pistons. “In you go, then. They’re set to follow your voice commands.”
Despite everything Master Tronic had said about the Defendroids being safe now, John hesitated. He really didn’t want to go in there. But the team needed him. He forced himself to walk in.
“Come on, you guys,” he said to the silent Defendroids. “Follow me. It’s time for energy weapon practice.”
“CONFIRMED,” said the nearest Defendroid, in a voice that grated like rusty metal.
Kritta was staring at John with her mouth open. “You just walked right in. Wow. That was so cool.”
“Just one problem,” Kaal said. “Where are we going to practice? We can’t go back to force field 1.0. It will be too crowded.”
