AQUA (The Elements Series Book 1)

by Korn, Tracy

  "Congratulations, Jazz," says Ms. Plume with a gentle smile.

  "We're told that the North quadrant shuttle will be waiting for you and the other nine at the foyer shortly. Please report to the West Shore launching station at 6:00 a.m. tomorrow morning," Mr. Styx says. "We'll be sending a vessel to take you and your peers to the relay station, where you will then take the submarine to Gaia Sur, so please be prompt. You will not need to bring anything with you," he concludes, then gets to his feet. "You're dismissed now, Jazz. It's been a pleasure."

  They smile at me again with those impossibly white teeth, and offer me their hands one by one, which are all as cold as Ms. Rheen's. Mr. Styx releases my hand last and extends his arm to show me to the door that leads to the room where I spoke with Ms. Wren. I walk through it to my old clothes that are folded on the small table where I'd left them, and when their door closes behind me, I tie my woven shirt into a makeshift sling bag so I can stuff my things into it, then make my way to the corridor.

  CHAPTER 4

  Arco's Confession

  All the doors are still closed as I head to the foyer. I don't think I've ever seen the school this still before, which makes the sound of my name whisper-yelled from somewhere behind me that much more startling.

  "Jazz! Wait up," I hear, and turn abruptly, then smile in relief as I see Arco approach. He's wearing new clothes too, a dark green shirt, a matching pair of linen pants, and shoes like mine, but then I notice that his jaw is clenched and his eyes are worried. He pushes messy waves of hair from his face and starts jogging up the hallway toward me, only slowing incrementally once he catches up, then seizes my arm and pulls us both forward.

  "What's wrong with you? Stop pulling me," I say, trying to wrench my arm free while maneuvering to avoid tripping over my own feet, which are turning over double time to keep up with his long strides.

  "Just walk faster. I'll explain in a minute," he says in a hush. I've only seen him this intense one other time, and that was when he almost got into a fight with Liddick Wright in the cafeteria over Arco's older sister, Arwyn. I never found out the whole story, but knowing Liddick, it probably wasn't wholesome. Arwyn is about 26 now, the same age as Liddick's oldest brother, Lyden, and working as a Molecular Coder on one of the space stations. It's one of the most prestigious jobs anyone can get, but also one of the most time consuming. I tried reminding Arco of this when he kept reading so much into her lack of port-calls, which basically stopped once she graduated from Gaia four years ago, but he's still been unpredictably moody like this ever since.

  We stop at the end of the communications hallway and turn down the corridor that leads to the courtyard behind the school. At the end of the hall, he pushes the door open and steers me through it, securing it behind him.

  "Arco, what the—" I stumble onto the cobblestone and almost fall into the cactus garden, which is flooded with hazy sunlight that ricochets off the granite stepping stones and makes me squint.

  "You're OK? Did they tell you?" he asks, looking me up and down, his face flushed with exertion.

  "I'm fine, and tell me what? What's wrong with you?" I ask, pulling my arm out of his grip. "Why are you acting like a riot drone?"

  "Did they tell you if you got in? You had to get in," he says, trying to regulate his breath without much success.

  "Yes, see?" I say, raising my bracelet cuff, then suddenly feel my stomach drop as I realize why he might be so upset. "Arco, didn't you get in?" I look at his left wrist, which is concealed behind his head. He brings it forward and shows me his bracelet.

  "I did, yeah," he says, his face relaxing a little. "Sorry, I just needed to find you. Your interview was OK?" He lets out a long exhale and puts his hands on his hips as he takes measured breaths.

  "Arco, yes—just some weird questions, what's wrong with you?" I ask again, rubbing my arm where he'd gripped it. He scrubs his hands over his face and then motions to a bench under one of the flowering trees for us to sit down, which we don't actually do before he starts talking.

  "They said not to talk about it, but they can't hear us out here," he says as we cross to the bench. "There were these three people from Gaia in there, a man and two women. They asked me a few questions and then told me to go into this blue light field—" he starts, and I raise an eyebrow.

  "I had that. They said it just recorded the interview," I interrupt, unsure why this would make him so frazzled.

  "They said it would do that too, but for me, its main job was running a sequencing game—you know, probabilities. I had to make choices..." he trails off, shaking his head and pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes as if to stop himself from seeing something. "Sorry, I just needed to find you," he says again, this time the words sounding strangled through his tightening throat. I watch the muscles in his jaw flex and relax as he exhales, takes another long, deep breath through his nose, then lets it out slowly again. The adrenaline rush that had him so wound up must be wearing off now.

  "Why do you keep saying that? Here, sit down," I say, the frustration and confusion I felt with him just a second ago now turning into concern. He drops his hands and sits under the tree on the stone bench behind us, which faces the honor wall that encircles the courtyard. The bronze embossed faces of all the prior Gaia cadets for the last 80 years from our quadrant line rows and rows of the wall, and I've never felt comfortable out here with them all staring at me like this. It's like they're watching me from somewhere inside those panels without making a sound, like they're just following me with their eyes. "Are you OK?" I ask, my own anxiety starting to rise.

  "Yeah, sorry," he says, leaning into his hands and pushing them up through his light brown hair with a quick shake before he sits up again.

  "You said there were two women and a man? I had the same in my room. One of the women had this reddish hair and wild dragon lady nails. I didn't like—" I'm cut off by Arco's sudden, wide eyed look. "What?" I ask, confused.

  "Ms. Rheen, with reddish hair and dragon lady nails...she was in my room too. And a tall guy with dark hair who looked like a polly running for State. Styx. Mr. Styx?" The bottom of my stomach drops again like it has been cut loose from the rest of my insides.

  "And a blonde woman named Ms. Plume..." I mumble, watching his eyebrows crash together and his stare narrowing back at me.

  "The careers officer?" we say together.

  "But how could they have been in your room and my room at the same time?" I ask.

  "I don't know. What did they do in your room?" Arco asks, sitting up even straighter now.

  "Nothing really, they just asked me some questions, and Ms. Rheen seemed to want to try to provoke me into something, but I'm not really sure what. It was just an odd pressuring feeling," I answer.

  "Like she was forcing you to make choices?"

  "Sort of, like she wanted me to say something so she could lower the hammer on me I think. I didn't understand, but Ms. Wren's last bit of advice to me before she left was to pay attention to how I felt, and I felt like they were trying to suck me in, so I just tried the best I could to stay neutral with everything I said."

  "Rheen did that to me too, but I didn't stay neutral. I made things worse."

  "What do you mean? What did she say to you?" There's a long pause after my question, and Arco looks away from me into the stone water fountain globe in front of us before he answers.

  "Nothing really, she just listed the probabilities if…" he says, turning his face back to the cobblestone under our feet. "Anyway, like I said, there were just these scenarios where I had to predict outcomes, and others I had to try to prevent before they happened." He swallows and then stands again, walking toward the fountain and gripping the railing. "You were in them, and I had to choose between getting you out, or Jax, or Fraya, everyone like that at the same time…and I couldn't get everyone. I told her that, yelled it at her, but she just kept telling me to confirm my choice, or to authorize the termination of the ones I didn't choose."

  His voice s
lips in and out on the last words, and then he is quiet and still. I'm frozen in my skin, but also feel like something inside me is ripping down the middle. I feel compelled to go to him, but also feel like if I do, I'll only make things worse. So, I wait. When he turns to face me again, the flush has returned to his cheeks and his jaw is clenched again, a line of muscle flexing across his cheekbones. He seems terrified and angry all at once, and I don't know how to help him.

  "Arco, it's OK—just try to forget it for now; it wasn't real. You can tell me later if you want, but for now just forget about it," I say from the bench, trying to sound calming even though now I'm feeling tense too. In the same breath as my last word, he seems to have made a decision about something and closes the distance between us in two long strides. He sits next to me again and grabs my shoulders with both hands to fix me in place.

  "Listen to me, Jazz; I don't know what they were trying to prove with these interviews, or head games, or whatever they were in there, and I don't know what's going to happen when we get to Gaia, but I know I will not let anything happen to you. I know that sounds random, but you're just going to have to let me say it, OK? I have to know that you understand I won't let anything happen to you. Do you understand that?" He's so adamant that his fingers press into my shoulders, but all I can do is stare at him and abruptly close my mouth once I realize that it's open. "Jazz? Are you listening to me?"

  "OK—I mean yes," I say, nodding. "I know you won't let anything happen…thank you?" I add awkwardly, not intending it to sound like a question, but it does.

  He lets go of my shoulders and chuckles, then interlaces his fingers behind his neck and takes a deep breath as he heads for the door.

  "All right, let's go find everyone else. Remember not to talk about any of this in the corridors, OK?" I nod again, and we head back through the door and down to the foyer. I take one more look over my shoulder at the bronzed metal faces on the honor wall before we do, and a shudder runs up my back to the hollow behind my jaw where it stops and pinches.

  When we arrive back at the foyer, Jax is there, dressed in dark gray and sitting next to Fraya, who is dressed in a deep red color and looks like she's just been pulled back from a cliff edge. Jax looks rattled too, but not as much as Fraya. He has his arm around her, tucking her long auburn hair behind her ear with the other hand, but it doesn't seem to help her shaking. It feels like someone died in here.

  "Are you all OK?" I say, crossing over to them and sitting next to Fraya. "What's wrong?"

  "It'll be all right," Jax looks at Arco and then at me, "how are you?"

  "I'm fine. I don't think my interview was as...intense as everyone else's seems to have been," I answer, remembering we can't talk about it in here when Arco sends me a warning look. He snuffs out a muffled laugh, which I think is kind of rude until I realize he's just seen number eight, Liddick Wright enter the foyer, who's dressed all in black and is pushing a hand through his wavy, sun-bleached hair as he smiles ear to ear.

  "We should go," Arco says before Liddick comes into earshot.

  "Don't you want to wait for everyone?" I ask, curious to see if their interviews were anything like Fraya's.

  "We can wait for them on the shuttle. It's not going anywhere before all ten of us are back," Arco says, gripping Jax's shoulder. "Get her aboard. We're coming."

  As we start walking, I see number seven, Sarin Nu come into view right behind Liddick in the mouth of the WAR corridor, which stands for World Affairs and Relationships. She's dressed in purple, which looks nice with her tanned complexion, and when I see her laughing next to Liddick, she even seems pretty despite her black hair being pulled into the tightest spinster bun I've ever seen her wear. She sees number nine, Myra Toll smiling as she approaches, and Sarin's rare, happy expression gives way to her normal pinched face scowl. Fortunately, she has no effect on Myra, whose earth brown clothes offset her strawberry blonde curls and make her look even more like sunshine next to Sarin.

  I turn my gaze from the others to Jax, hoping that his interview was more like theirs and mine than Fraya's and Arco's. His arm is still around Fraya as they approach the shuttle, and once we're on board, Jax shows her to a window seat and pulls her into him. He talks into her hair, and after a few minutes, whatever he's saying seems to start working. Her convulsions give way to occasional hiccoughs of catching breath until she's still and calm, leaning against him with her eyes closed like this has been the most exhausting day of her life.

  CHAPTER 5

  The Others: Part One

  It's only about a quarter of a mile walk to the Seaboard North quadrant gate when we get back to the station, and most of the others are already ahead of me. Fraya seems better thanks to Jax, who has been telling her stupid jokes since we got on the shuttle back at school.

  The haze has lifted a little, and I'm glad because I don't want my last thoughts of this place to be of muted sunshine and thick air that tastes like the dust from the Tinkerer's metal grinding shops. The sound of laughter breaks the little bubble I'd been creating around myself as Sarin, Myra, and Liddick walk past me, and I slip away from Arco to catch up with them.

  "Hey!" I call. Myra is the first to turn and smile at me.

  "Hey, Jazz! I know you got in. Aren't you excited? Ouch, what happened to your lip?"

  "Oh, that was just an accident on the shuttle this morning. I got in, did you?" I ask, and she beams.

  "We did too!" she says, smiling so widely it almost looks painful. But her big blue eyes light up like the sun coming out of the clouds, and I already feel better than I have so far today. She just has that effect on people. "Aren't you excited?" she asks through a halted giggle.

  "I don't know—I mean, yes, but not really," I answer, which sounds stupid when I hear it. "I have mixed feelings."

  Sarin looks down her long, broomstick nose at me, and Liddick just smirks while Myra's eyes go wide.

  "But why?" She drags the last word out in a whine.

  "Because even getting into Gaia isn't good enough for Jazwyn," Sarin informs her, then looks back at me like I've just sneezed on her lunch before she struts ahead of us all. As much as I'd normally give anything for her to go away, this time I wanted her to stay so I could ask her about her interview. Liddick chuckles, throwing his arm over my shoulder.

  "So, the interview was a drink of water, right?" He throws his other arm over Myra, so now we look like his pixies. I push his arm away and make some space between us.

  "It wasn't like that for everyone, Liddick. Didn't you see Fraya crying her face off?"

  "Didn't notice her. What was her problem?" he says, trying to swing his arm back over my shoulder, but I block it with a swing of my own.

  "I don't know, I haven't been able to talk to her yet. Why were you two and Sarin so happy? What happened in your interviews?" I ask, but Myra's attention is captured by a butterfly dancing just in front of her, and she drifts ahead of us to try to get it to land on her hand.

  "Cheddar for me. Some tuhao in the room named Styx asked most of my questions, and crite he was wearing slick digs, a white military jacket with a clipped collar. Two women were pressed out just like him from Gaia. I guess they all work there or something," he replies.

  "So, you too, then? They were also in Arco's room, and mine. All at the same time. How do you think they did that? And why did you leave so happy?" I ask.

  "I don't know, I was happy because they were like, my people, you know? Maybe they were in everyone's room in virtuo like the cines."

  "But they shook my hand. I touched them. They put these bracelets on us. They had to be there," I insist.

  "True," he says with a shrug. "They were probably port-calling then—Dice McClain told me his manager made a deal with the State to let him use their port-call tech for premieres so he could sign autographs without actually having to leave the Skyboard hill as long as he'd also make an appearance at Gaia once a year," he says.

  "But how could they do it at the same time in all those different
rooms?"

  "Who knows, Riptide? It's science. Anyway, did I tell you they're putting me on a field team after matriculation is over?"

  "Stop calling me that. And what's matriculation?" I ask as Myra comes back from her butterfly adventure.

  "It's a three-month learning period where we're not held responsible for mistakes in our programs," she says, squealing as another butterfly floats into her path.

  "Wavy, right? It's all going to be a drink of water," Liddick says.

  "You really jack in to too many virtuo-cines. Where did you even hear that expression?" I ask, wondering which cinestar he's going to say he's been lagging around with now.

  "Oh, Sera Lim. We took down the infrastructure on Scarborough 8 a few days ago and freed all the pilgrims they'd been holding captive in the core. Saved the universe from an intergalactic shatstorm," he says, cocking an eyebrow.

  "Beacon Ship!? That cine isn't even out until next month—how did you get access? What's Sera like? Is that where you met Dice McClain too, or was that when you went into Dionysus 2 last month?" Myra gawks at Liddick, abandoning her butterfly.

  "How did I get access? Because I'm Liddick Wright, beautiful," he says like it's the right answer to every question in the world. Myra swoons, and I gag. "Dice was last month in Dionysus, and Sera? Well, she's a lot smaller in person than I thought she'd be. Dice is stone at G-ball—completely fierce. I'm still tired!" I roll my eyes and try not to roarf straight onto my own feet while watching Myra's reaction, which indicates she is now seconds away from total body combustion. I have to stop this.

  "OK, Liddick, redirect. Your interview. You were saying something about a field team?"

  "Yeah, something about me being a niche coach, I don't know. They said I was perfect to help fellow freshes adapt to the all-new."

  Did he just say freshes? Please tell me that's not what they're going to call us.

  "Myra, was yours like that too?" I ask, all but jumping in the air to snag her attention away from hero worshipping Liddick.