“Nice to meet you,” Steel said. He heard Kaileigh gasp from behind him. She mumbled something about breakfast, and headed off in the direction of the dining hall.
Victor DesConte shook Steel’s hand, sparing him no strength.
“Mr. Trapp is a legacy,” Hinchman said.
“Interesting,” DesConte said.
“Mr. DesConte is a legacy as well, Mr. Trapp. Your fathers may have very well known each other. Victor is a second-year Argive. Academy champions last year.”
“And this year too, with any luck,” DesConte said. This seemed a direct challenge to Hinchman.
“I’m offering Mr. Trapp a chance to try out for Sparta,” Hinchman explained.
DesConte took a step back, anything but pleased. “But he’s—”
“Trying out, is all,” Hinchman said. “Some practice work. Nothing more for now. We’ll see how far we get.”
“Indeed we will,” said DesConte, his voice raspy and displeased. He towered over Steel. “Good luck.” He didn’t mean it.
“That’s the second time you’ve mentioned luck,” Steel said. “I thought it was more a game of skill.”
His comment caused Hinchman to bite back a smirk of satisfaction.
“I kinda hope you make the team,” DesConte said, walking away.
“Don’t mind him,” Hinchman said, once DesConte was well out of hearing range.
“Hard not to,” Steel said, deciding right then and there to devote himself to the game.
A week of early morning ga-ga training and loads of homework left Steel as tired as he’d ever been. With the fatigue came a change in mood: he felt determined to make the team, and even more determined to find out what he’d become a part of.
Despite Steel’s appeal for a cell phone, his dad had given him a telephone calling card instead. He put it to use on a Friday evening after study hall. Finding his way to the converted basement of the administration building, he waited for one of the six pay phone booths to free up, and called home.
“Hi, Mom,” he said, as she picked up.
“Sweetheart! How wonderful!” Her voice was bright and cheery as always.
He felt his pulse rise at just the sound of her voice.
“Honey?” She called out loudly away from the receiver, “It’s Steel!” When she next spoke, her voice was measured. “How are you, sweetie? Is everything going okay?”
“Terrific.” Offered with plenty of sarcasm.
“Do you like it there?”
“I love it.”
“Miss home?”
“I suppose. But I’m not calling ’cause I’m homesick. I want to talk to Dad about something.”
There was a click on the line: his father had joined the call.
“Steven?” His father. Mr. Wynncliff himself, apparently.
“Hi, Dad.”
“I understand you’ve met Walt Hinchman.”
“Yeah.” He wondered both how and why his father knew this. “That’s kind of why I called.”
“What do you think of ga-ga? I hear you’re a natural.”
“It’s great. I try out on Monday.”
“I wish I could be there,” his father said. “Being invited to try out for a club team, son,” his father said, “and in the Third Form, no less, is quite the honor. And the Spartans, of all teams.”
“What’s going on, Dad?”
There was a pause on the other end of the line. “What do you mean?”
It was as if his mother had left the call. She was like that around Steel’s dad. When he was home, or driving the car, or on a phone call, she kind of disappeared, as she had now.
“Wynncliff,” Steel said. “Why Wynncliff?”
“It’s a good school,” his father said, clearly intending to say more, but Steel cut him off.
“And why Kaileigh?”
“What about Kaileigh?” his mother asked, when the silence built to where no one was sure if the line was still open.
“Kaileigh’s here, Mom. Dad arranged it.”
“Sweetheart?” This was directed to her husband.
“She’s a smart girl,” his father said defensively. “Very smart. Why not Wynncliff?”
“Her father could buy Wynncliff,” Steel said. “He could get her into any private school she wanted. But she ends up here at Wynncliff. How did you manage that, Dad? How did you convince her parents it should be here instead of Andover or Choate or Exeter?”
Steel heard his mother breathing heavily into the phone. He knew she was upset, and assumed this was news to her.
“I thought you liked Kaileigh,” his father said.
“That’s not the issue.”
“Don’t talk to me with that tone of voice, son.”
“Don’t try to avoid the question.”
“This conversation is over if you continue with that tone.”
“So far this isn’t a conversation,” Steel said, “because you won’t answer the question.”
“You have to give it time,” his father said.
“Give what time?”
“The school.”
“It’s a pretty simple question, Dad. Why Kaileigh? You hardly know her. She’s a runaway, a stowaway who I meet on a train, and you decide she’s Wynncliff material?”
There was a long vacant moment, only the sound of his mother’s desperate breathing filling the line.
“I can’t answer that, Steven. Not now. Not yet.”
“Can’t, or won’t?”
“Won’t.”
“Because?”
“You’re at that school for a reason, Steven. So is Kaileigh. It’s a special school.”
“It’s a weird school,” Steel said. “There are things going on here—”
“You see how perceptive you are? That’s a big part of the reason you’re there. Why you were invited.”
“Invited?” Kaileigh had mentioned the same thing.
“Well…yes. Invited. They don’t ask just anyone.”
“And was Kaileigh invited?”
“Obviously,” his father said.
“I don’t get it.”
“Not yet, no. But you will. I think you will,” he added, somewhat as an afterthought. “This isn’t easy for me.”
“For you?”
“For any of us. All I ask is that you give it more time. By Thanksgiving it will sort itself out or not. I promise you that if we can speak in confidence, I’ll explain as much of it as possible at that time.”
“Do you ever tell the truth, Dad?” he blurted, regretting it immediately. But the fact was that his father had claimed to be a salesman all of Steel’s life, until it turned out he was a special agent for the FBI. Steel no longer trusted him.
“Was I invited because I’m your son?” Steel asked. “That’s why I was asked to try out for ga-ga, wasn’t it? They call it a legacy—the son or daughter of someone who went here. So I’m a legacy. And I didn’t even know that. How come you never told me about Wynncliff, or ga-ga, or that you were school champion, or whatever you were?”
“It was long time ago.”
“Yeah, but coming here…that wasn’t my idea. Not really. It was yours.”
“It was your decision, not mine,” his father protested.
“You know the answer to that,” his mother said, speaking up for the first time in several minutes. “The public schools here, Steel. A child of your aptitude…”
He’d been hearing nothing but “potential” and “aptitude” from his parents and teachers forever.
“I admit I have a weird memory,” he said, “but that doesn’t make me a boy genius or something. I just happen to remember stuff.”
“But that’s how they often measure genius, son,” his father said. “We’ve discussed this often enough.”
“Yeah? Well, they should find another way.”
“You’re a good fit at the school, Steven. You’ll find that out soon enough.”
“Because I’m good at ga-ga? What about Kaileigh? What’s sh
e so good at?”
“We’re doing this for you, Steel,” his mother added.
“If it’s for me, then why won’t Dad answer my questions?”
“All will become apparent as you get farther into the semester. Certainly by Christmas.”
“I thought you said Thanksgiving,” Steel said, objecting.
“I think we should make it Christmas break.”
“Then there is stuff to explain,” Steel said. “So why not just explain now?
It had only been after getting himself into the trouble at the National Science Challenge that Steel had learned the truth about his father. He didn’t know now if his father was just saying stuff to string him along, or if, in fact, there was really some other reason for his being at Wynncliff.
“What’s going to become so apparent?” Steel asked.
“I shouldn’t have said anything. You’ve got to promise me you won’t say anything to anyone about what I’ve just said. That’s all I’m going to say.”
Steel knew that tone of voice. His father wasn’t going to answer anything.
A knock on the door startled Steel.
He turned: Victor DesConte filled the narrow window of the phone booth.
He tapped his wristwatch.
Steel pointed to the empty phone booth next to him.
DesConte shook his head. He wanted this phone booth.
“I guess I gotta go,” Steel said to his parents. He hung up after a few hasty good-byes.
He swung open the door. “There are other phones,” he said.
“So use ’em. This is my phone booth,” DesConte said. His low voice was forced, like he wanted to sound older than he was.
“There you are!” It was Kaileigh.
Victor DesConte pivoted around and looked back and forth between Kaileigh and Steel.
“Get out of here,” he said. “Curfew’s in like twenty minutes.”
Steel felt reluctant to obey this guy. On the other hand, Dez was about twice as big as Steel, and an upperclassman. He also sounded like he actually cared that Steel met curfew. So Steel did as he was told.
Kaileigh led him out of the admin building and across the back field.
“What’s up?” Steel asked.
“We’re not going to miss curfew, I promise, but if we’re not over there in the next ten minutes, we’re going to miss it.”
“Miss what?” Steel asked, lowering his voice, as Kaileigh just had. “Over where?”
“I’ll explain on the way,” she said. “Are you coming or not?”
“Wait a second,” he protested. “How’d you find me? How’d you know I was here?”
“That’s the point, stupid.” She glanced around furtively, obviously concerned that someone might be listening. “Are you coming or not?” she whispered. “If you don’t want to, that’s okay.”
But it wasn’t okay. She sounded disappointed and her shoulders slumped.
“I’m coming,” he said.
Her face brightened. Her entire demeanor changed. It had all been an act.
Drama queen, he felt like saying. He knew he was in trouble—knew it had nothing whatsoever to do with the chapel, and everything to do with this girl.
Kaileigh led him toward the arts and sciences building, a neoclassic two-story brick building with white trim and double chimneys. This differed from the science lab, an ugly structure erected in the 1950s that was all glass turquoise and salmon panels. Thankfully the lab had been hidden slightly down the hill, beneath the school library. The arts and sciences building stood just behind the administration building in a field of mowed grass adjacent to the JV football field, and not far from the gymnasium/natatorium.
Steel listened to Kaileigh, amazed by her abundance of energy and her ability to make anything sound as if the fate of the free world hung in the balance.
“Have you met Pennington?”
“Pennington Cardwell the Third?” Steel asked, unable to contain the disdain he felt for the boy.
“You don’t have to sound so thrilled about it.”
“It’s just…he’s so preppie, you know? I mean what’s with ‘the Third’ and all that?”
“It’s his name, Steel. In fact, Steel isn’t even your name, is it? It’s Steven. So who’s calling the kettle bleak?”
“It’s black,” Steel corrected. “The pot calling the kettle black? It’s irony, Kaileigh: they’re both black.”
“Which is exactly my point: my parents don’t want me, Pennington’s ancestors probably came over on the Mayflower or something, and you’re some freak of nature. It’s not as if any of us in this place are exactly normal, you know.”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. None of us are ordinary.”
“Is.”
“What?”
“Forget it.”
“What’s with you, anyway?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re all angry, like.”
“I’m having a bad day,” he stated. He didn’t really feel like he was having a bad day, but it seemed the easiest way to stop the conversation. “So what about Pennington Cardwell the Third?”
“Well, if you wouldn’t interrupt all the time.” She slowed as they approached the building, finally stopping as they reached the twin white doors. “Penny’s a computer nerd. Computers and photography. Fourth Form.” She sounded impressed.
“So?”
“So when he was twelve he was arrested for hacking traffic cams. They had these cameras at the tollbooths on the highway meant to take pictures of license plates of cars that ran the tolls. His father got this summons or something, saying he owed like thousands of dollars for running tolls. His father is a banker. He rides a bike to work in Boston. It was totally messed up. But the court made him pay or lose his license. So Pennington takes a digital picture of the judge’s license plate and then hacks the system and makes it so the judge has run like fifty tolls going back two years. Just to show that it could be done, and that it had been done to his father. Only there were people who didn’t appreciate it, and Penny got busted, and eventually, a couple years later, he ended up here at Wynncliff.”
Steel was indeed impressed, but for some reason he didn’t want Kaileigh knowing this. “So?”
“So, you’ve got to admit, that’s pretty cool. Just that he could do something like that.”
“I guess.”
“You really are having a bad day,” she said. “Is everything okay?”
“Fine.”
“So anyway, Penny…well…I guess I should let him tell you.” She swung open the heavy door. The inside of the arts and sciences building felt new. All the paint—white paint—glistened, and the brass hardware sparkled. It reminded Steel of a dentist’s office or a new office building: the smell of the paint and new carpet, the gentle hum of air-conditioning, and the way that as the doors closed, they shut out all sound. They hurried up a flight of stairs. Kaileigh moved with a sense of urgency. Steel wondered what was going on. He found her excitement contagious.
She knocked once on the computer lab’s blue door and swung it open.
Pennington Cardwell III looked like a banker. He had a tight small mouth and a severe posture. He stood up from a chair in front of three computer monitors—all of them showing different Sudoku games—and he was all of five feet tall. Smaller than Kaileigh. His hair was trimmed short, above his ears and in a straight line at the back. He had gray eyes, a sharp nose, and a face that looked smart and much older than he actually was. Steel got the sense that Penny Cardwell III was sizing him up, the way he took a step back after shaking hands.
“You sure?” Cardwell’s eyes narrowed as he looked over at Kaileigh.
She nodded.
“Sudoku?” Steel asked. He glanced at the wall clock. He had homework to do. He’d heard of a Sudoku club, but had zero interest in it.
“It’s just a pastime,” Penny Cardwell III said.
“You have time for pastimes? I’m impressed.”
“Third Form takes some getting used to,” the boy said. “The homework.”
“Tell me about it,” Steel said.
“But it’s weird: I think Fourth Form is actually a little easier. I mean, there’s more work, but somehow it gets done quicker.”
“We’re like trained dogs,” Kaileigh said. The three of them laughed—Steel out of nervousness. There was an electrical charge in the air. Pennington Cardwell III gave off a deep calm, a brainiac thing that Steel found disconcerting.
“Kaileigh mentioned that you and her…you’ve discovered that not everything at Wynncliff Academy is what you might call explainable.”
Steel flashed Kaileigh a vicious look: she shouldn’t have said anything.
“It’s all right,” Penny said. “I’m not a faculty stooge or some informer or something. We all have our curiosities about this place.”
“Show him,” Kaileigh said, encouraging Penny.
“I need his agreement first.” Penny faced Kaileigh with full intensity. “Do you promise not to tell anyone what I’m about to show you? If you should tell, I will find out something about you and expose you. I’m quite capable of that, and I promise that whatever it is, it will get you in trouble. And if there isn’t anything there, then I’ll invent it and you’ll still get in trouble.”
“I told him about your father,” Kaileigh admitted.
“Like that,” Penny Cardwell said. “Exactly like that.”
“I promise,” Steel said.
Steel was sized up one final time, and then Penny hit some keys, and the screens changed from Sudoku to video. Each monitor was divided into four windows. It took Steel a long few seconds to see that each window showed a part of the campus. Some were in color. Most were black and white.
“I hacked the admin computer late last year, just before summer break. It took me all year. It started out…all I was after were some library books. Rentals. You know: you have to put your name on a list? I wanted to move my name up so I could get the new Artemis Fowl before anyone else. It turned out I had to hack the school system to break into the library. Besides grades and financials, I found this.”
“Security cameras,” Steel said.
“Funny that they don’t tell us they’re watching everything we do,” Penny said.
“How many locations?” Steel asked, his curiosity piqued.
The Academy Page 7
