It’s so long since I’ve seen or heard Mr Thorpe-Campbell, I have to do a double-take to make sure it’s really him. It is, but if I’m not mistaken he’s a little leaner and greyer than before. Good. I hope he’s eaten a big fat stress sandwich every day we’ve been in here. He deserves every bite.
9i is a very bland, sterile oblong of a room. A long, sparkly crystal conference table and the dozens of seats tucked in around it are literally the only things in here. Nothing on the walls whatsoever. Even the floor has no carpet. So it comes as a bit of a surprise when the black wall at the head of the room de-tints; it becomes a clear window to another room entirely. A room that, when I realise what it is, leaves me a little queasy.
“These are your DEMOs,” Thorpe-Campbell explains. “They observe and evaluate your every moment in the Hex. For the past six months or so, all of you, individually, have been watched, listened to, discussed, argued over, and finally selected for your next branch of training.”
It’s a busy, bustling hive of a control room. Ten monitoring hubs, each about five metres in diameter, consist of an almost complete circle of screens, with a couple of gaps for access to the area inside. Five seats are arranged for watching the screens, while at the centre of each hub is a much more comfortable lounge area—sofas, coffee tables, food and drinks dispensers—probably for “discussing” us buggos, or for the personnel to just kick back and relax in between Hex sessions.
Attached to the top of the screens, above the positions of the monitoring seats, are photos of individual buggos. One photo per seat. I can make out umpteen faces, including Lua-Lua’s, Lohengrin’s, Walpole’s, and mine.
Someone walks over my grave. How much do these people know about my secret?
On the far side of the room is a giant wall screen. One half shows the Hex scoreboard. The other shows an overview of the Hex arena itself, in real time. It’s spooky, not just knowing we’re being watched but actually seeing it in action. Every last move we’ve made since our arrival has been scrutinized. Now and then the overview angle shifts around the arena, zooming in or out, or switches to a close-up of an individual buggo: whatever the monitors deem a priority at that moment in time, I guess. God only knows what this place was like during the big showdown, when Sergei stepped in to change the game forever.
“It’s not been easy, I can tell you,” Thorpe-Campbell says, as if he's been reading my thoughts. “A nightmare, in fact. The Council came this close to calling an intervention, which has never happened before. Between Sarazzin’s megalomania and Trillion’s extra-curricular high-jinks, not to mention my bringing Sergei into the mix, it’s been quite a ride. Not one O’see Hendron and I ever want to repeat.”
“Well, boo-hoo for you, Dad.” Fists on hips, Lys glares at his reflection in the window. “How many times did you get your ass kicked while you were outnumbered?” She folds her arms. “I’ll never forgive you for that. Never.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. It wasn’t my call. People with a lot more influence than me insisted on seeing how it all played out, how each of you reacted under pressure. It’s all a means to an end.”
“What end?” she yells. “Why can’t you just tell us your big secret? We’re bound to find out sooner or later. Why not tell us now? What harm can it do?”
“Soon, love. You’ll know everything very, very soon, I promise. In fact, you’re almost there. Jim’s gotten so close to the truth he’s forced us to bring the final assessment forward.”
“What final assessment?” I ask.
“Why don’t you all sit down and I’ll explain.” He strides to the head of the sparkly conference table. Each of us peels away from the window in his own good time, Lohengrin first, Sergei last.
“In less than an hour, you’ll embark on the annual field assignment,” he begins. “The most promising students from each pool of buggos get to compete in a real-life environment. Two teams of five. This year it’s your team versus Sarazzin’s. Now I know, I know, he’s been a complete ass in the Hex, and he made your lives a misery. Personally I can’t stand him either. But the sad fact is he displayed many of the qualities the Council is looking for in a graduate.”
“You’re kidding,” says Rachel. “Like what? Having shit for brains?”
“How about being hated by every single buggo?” Lohengrin adds, fuming.
“How about leadership?” Thorpe-Campbell answers. “Motivation. Inspiring his loyal team-members. Spotting and recruiting talent. Bravery—remember, he was the first one to try an apparatus. Thinking outside the box. He took advantage of the no-rules policy and shaped the Hex to advance his own agenda. He saw what he thought the Hex was—competition—and he competed in the most effective way he could think of. Granted, he lost a few marbles along the way, but from the Council’s point of view he has the makings of a promising team leader.”
“His Buttholiness? A promising team leader?” Rachel makes a farting noise with her mouth. Everyone laughs, including Thorpe-Campbell.
“I don’t get it,” Lyssa interrupts. “If he’s what the Council wants, why are we here? We’re the exact opposite of Sarazzin.”
“True, but the five of you have displayed qualities that his Buttholiness—” He chuckles again, and will probably spread that nickname around the faculty later, maybe over his cards game, “—that Sarazzin couldn’t find with a map and a flashlight.”
He sets his wrist ink face down against the sparkly table top. An interactive holographic menu screen rises up out of the crystal. After a few brief spoken commands, he’s scrolling through our Hex student profiles.
“These comments are from the latest quarterly reports written by your Dedicated Monitoring Officers, or DEMOs, as we call them. Bear in mind these people have watched you closer than anyone has ever watched you, including your parents, and it’s their job to be brutally honest. The detailed reports are pages long. I’ll just read a few choice snippets from the summaries.
“First up, Rachel Foggerty.” Who promptly starts twining her pony tail around her fingers, almost cutting off the circulation. “Foggerty is an extraordinary physical athlete whose agility, speed, stamina and determination constantly reap the highest scores both on the apparatuses and the running track. She is a solid all-round academic performer. Scores highest in linguistics and artistic creativity. Not much talent for craft and design.
“Noteworthy Hex attributes so far include: strong empathy, team-building and diplomacy skills. A confidence in her own abilities. Popular among other students (85-90 percent of male students are physically attracted). Yet to bring her aptitude for creative thinking to the Hex, instead relies solely on her physical prowess. Recommendation grade: A. Foggerty should be considered a Priority Pod candidate, and will be an invaluable asset to the Initiative.”
She’s already a strong shade of pink, but Sergei’s wolf-whistle—the rest of us cruelly copy it—forces her to turn away in embarrassment.
“Feeling cocky, are we, Sergei?” Thorpe-Campbell teases.
“No, no. I don’t wanna hear it. Do Lohengrin first!”
“Sorry, you got it next, Sunshine.” Thorpe-Campbell gleefully rubs his hands together as Sergei sinks into his seat, sulking. The rest of us explode in nervous laughter at the words, “Balakirev, Sergei. Despite a late start, Balakirev has developed reasonably well in many academic areas. He struggles (to put it mildly) with math and theoretical science, but has an undeniable flair for map-reading, craft and design, and spatial awareness. Physically, he’s the strongest candidate I’ve ever seen for his age. Lacks speed on the running track, but has solid stamina.
“Noteworthy Hex attributes so far include: focus, decisiveness, restraint (he did enough to put down his enemy, but no more). Strong loyalty and team-building. A willingness to participate. Respected and popular among other students (80-85 percent of female students are attracted). Surprisingly shy and withdrawn. Doesn’t interact with the larger group. Has a strong, almost pathological dislike of authority, but is unswervin
gly loyal to his team-mates. Recommendation grade: B. Balakirev should be considered a solid advance team candidate, recommended for field/practical pursuits. His fierce loyalty to his current team suggests it isn’t advisable to transfer him.
“Additional note: The entire monitoring team likes Sergei. He’s laid-back and unorthodox, someone you’d be glad to have a drink with. He’s the kind of candidate you could build a team around, if he believes in what he’s doing.”
The big guy stands up and takes a bow. The rest of us clap and cheer. When it stops and he sits down looking smug, I boo him instead. The others do likewise. Sergei loves it, and can’t stop grinning as Thorpe-Campbell moves on to the next file.
“Lohengrin.” Decidedly un-regal, rude noises emerge from me and Sergei, while the two girls wolf-whistle the prince. “Lohengrin hasn’t lived up to his potential so far.” Puzzled faces all round. “But only because his potential is practically limitless.” Sighs of relief (and agreement). “Remarkable in most academic areas, especially advanced maths and science, map-reading, geography, spatial awareness, logic and reasoning. Not quite as strong in craft and design, linguistics, or creative thinking. He is physically fine—above average agility, speed and stamina, but below average in strength. This will likely improve as his training progresses.
“Noteworthy Hex attributes so far include: exceptional leadership abilities on the apparatuses, but not elsewhere. Strong empathy and team-building skills. Resilient despite a prolonged and intense hostility from several students. Showed courage and restraint during the Sarazzin affair. Solid problem-solving when the need arises. Recognises strengths and weaknesses in others. Hasn’t made any significant breakthroughs, though. Lacks confidence (but is starting to find it). Recommendation grade: A. Lohengrin should be considered a Priority Pod candidate, preferably in a leadership role, and will be an invaluable asset to the Initiative.”
In a reversal of Sergei’s pitiful performance, it’s the four of us who get to our feet and bow to Lohengrin. He’s proven himself every inch the future king of Rhea, and I couldn’t be prouder. His steady smile starts to waver but he keeps his composure, just like his parents taught him.
“And now we see what they make of my little urchin,” says Thorpe-Campbell, throwing his daughter a wink. She rolls her eyes. “Lyssa Van Buren. Out of all the students this year, Van Buren is the one who acts the most like she has something to prove. She’s thrown herself headlong into every academic subject and every physical challenge. The results have been mixed, but her determination is unmatched in this year’s pool of candidates.” Her dad looks across at her, an admiring twinkle in his eye. “Strong in maths, science, craft and design. Weaker in linguistics and the humanities. An excellent performer on the running track, with both speed and stamina. Similarly robust performances on all the apparatuses.
“Noteworthy Hex attributes so far include: a playful sense of humour that sometimes goes too far. Strong team-building; she's loyal to a fierce degree. Confident in her abilities. Displays a proactive approach to everything she does. Not very popular outside her inner circle of friends (though 80-85 percent of students are physically attracted to her).” He clears his throat. “I’ll forget I read that part. What else? Let me see...ah, yes. A dislike of authority, resulting in reckless tendencies. Empathy sometimes lacking. Not a creative thinker so far, but has a natural talent for motivating others. Recommendation grade: B+. Van Buren should be considered a potential Priority Pod candidate. Mentoring and experience will likely iron out those abrasive aspects of her character. Her determination to succeed is second to none, and makes her an invaluable addition to the Initiative.”
Rachel, Lohengrin and I golf-clap her, while Sergei just laughs—that big, throaty Russian laugh that always leaves me in stitches. Poor Lyssa playfully cocks her fist, ready to leap across the table and clock the ape out, but she spies her dad instead, whose raised eyebrow is more persuasive to her than all the rules of the facility combined. Despite what she says, Lys really does care what he thinks of her, maybe more than any of us can understand. It’s definitely a love-hate thing, and it’s driving her.
“And last but not least—”
“No, both,” Sergei interrupts him, but it isn’t funny.
“—James Trillion. A promising academic performer, Trillion has displayed an aptitude for linguistics, map-reading, and especially tech design. Despite his high IQ, he hovers only slightly above average in the overall study rankings, which suggests he is not applying himself equally in all subjects. On the running track he has reasonable speed and is developing impressive stamina. With the administration of vitamin supplements in his diet, he has overcome his borderline malnutrition, and is now physically fine. He will grow from strength to strength as an athlete.
“Noteworthy Hex attributes so far include: independent creative and problem-solving intelligence of the highest order. An ability to “think outside the box” that can’t be quantified. Rebellious, and has little respect for authority. Possesses strong leadership, empathy and team-building. Inspires those around him. He has displayed courage and initiative on several occasions, not least in his classified extra-curricular activities (which I personally encouraged and monitored). Respected, but not altogether popular among students outside his inner circle (70-75 percent of females are physically attracted). Recommendation grade: A. Trillion should be considered a Priority Pod candidate. His unremarkable academic and physical scores notwithstanding, he possesses the most crucial attributes of a born adventurer. His creative thinking brings out the best in those around him. Most important of all, he has already demonstrated grace under pressure in a real life-or-death scenario—see my report on Cydonia Sights—and is therefore an invaluable asset to the Initiative.”
As I sit here, at a sparkling table deep in the heart of a top secret facility buried in the ice, basking in the glow from my first ever school report (and a pretty damn good one), surrounded by my four best friends as they knock on the underside of the table—a grown-up, boardroom gesture of approval—well, it’s all a bit too much.
I try my hardest to hold back the tears, but one or two leak out.
The best thing is—the others don’t even laugh when they see that. Instead, I feel a hand on each shoulder. One is Lyssa’s, the other Lohengrin’s. And through misty eyes I glimpse Rachel, blowing me a kiss from across the table. And Sergei, sunk back in his seat, watching me proudly, clasping his giant hands behind his big ape head.
It’s a feeling I won’t forget.
“So those are the individual reports,” Thorpe-Campbell continues, shutting down the interface. “But the most unusual thing about this team is how quickly and naturally it came together, and how it stayed together, in spite of all the obstacles Sarazzin threw your way. Normally, when the Council divides the buggos into teams, it’s a drawn-out process using statistics, psychological profiling, DEMO input, and a hundred other things listed in the pod charter.”
“Just a quick question, sir?” Lohengrin has his hand up.
“Go ahead.”
“What’s a pod?”
“All in good time, Lohengrin. You’ll learn about all that if you pass your final assessment. Okay?”
“Yes, sir.”
Thorpe-Campbell checks his wristwatch, then carries on: “So, as I was saying, this group is unique in that it came more or less well-rounded, with the right blend of attributes we require in a graduating team. It’s a bit weak on the math, but you’re still just buggos—you can improve. The one thing it really lacked in the Hex...wasn’t your fault. Sarazzin and his groupies were bigger than you, stronger, and there were more of them. That was what split you up and sent Trillion off on his extra-curricular tailspin. So, despite strong objections from pretty much everyone higher up than me—everyone except O’see Hendron—I decided to bring in an outside agent to restore balance. Sergei was the missing piece of the puzzle.”
“But why should they object to that?” Lyssa cuts in. “Did they want His
Buttholiness to go on ruling like a tyrant? For the rest of us to not show our potential? What’s the thinking, Dad?”
“The thinking, Lyssa, is that the rest of you could have stopped him at any time if you’d banded together. Tyrants can only rule if they’re allowed to rule. The Council was waiting for some of you, especially the natural team leaders, to organise a revolt against him. Lohengrin thought of it but didn’t follow through. None of you wanted to risk getting hurt. That’s a cruel logic on the Council’s part if you ask me—you’re only kids at the end of the day—but this kind of thing has happened before in the Hex. In the past, those who’ve stepped up to put down the bullies have nearly always gone on to become pod leaders. It’s just something the Council looks for. They may have even brought Sarazzin in for that very reason, to test you all, though he wouldn’t have known it.
“But I couldn’t wait. The way things were going, none of you would have shone as brightly as I knew you could. Jim’s an ideas man, but he needs others to bounce those ideas off. The rest of you are stronger in every way when you’re together. So we needed Sergei, who wouldn’t back down from anyone or anything to protect Jim, which, in turn, might bring the team back together. And when Sergei fit in so well with the rest of you, there was never any doubt, this was the team to watch. O’see Hendron gave me the call the second you hit on the secret of this place.”
“The alien connection?” I ask.
“Exactly. I’m going to speak to you alone about it some time soon, Jim. I’ve been your personal DEMO all this time, but there’s only so much I’m allowed to do. The way we’ve set up the Hex—the no-rules thing, the free time, the scoreboard—it’s to see what kind of people you are. How you approach problems. How you interact with each other. Who naturally conforms? Who’s inclined to rebel? Who thinks outside the box? So far that’s Sarazzin, Walpole, and you, Jim.
“You’ve been trying to figure this place out ever since you arrived, haven’t you? Most of the other buggos just accepted their new environment within a few days, but to some extent all of you at this table have been questioning why things were set up that way. That’s important for the priority pods, as you’ll find out.
Star Binder Page 16
