Bounders

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Bounders Page 19

by Monica Tesler


  “Cool it, Florine Wannabe,” Marco says as we enter the mess hall. “The blast pack high jinks are over, okay? Jasper’s moved on. You should, too.”

  “Since when are you the voice of reason? And speaking of reason”—Lucy lowers her voice as we sit down at our regular table—“what exactly is our reason for visiting the alien? If I decide to help you, what are we going to do once we break in?”

  Marco and I exchange glances. It’s a fair question, but I haven’t really thought that far ahead.

  “We have evidence tying him to the Incident at Bounding Base 51,” Cole says. “We’re going to interrogate him.”

  We all stare at Cole. Interrogate him? Really? We’re not even sure he talks, let alone speaks the same language we do.

  “Yeah,” I say, “what Cole said.”

  Marco smiles, turning up the charm factor. “Think about it, Lucy. You’re curious, aren’t you? Just getting a better look at Green Lantern might give us more information.”

  Lucy scrunches up her face like she’s thinking. “Fine.”

  “Good, we’ve got a plan,” I say.

  Marco nods to the porthole on the far side of the mess hall. “Mira’s the real wild card in all this, you know.”

  Mira’s been better about sticking with the pod, but you can tell it takes a toll on her. She needs space.

  “Maybe we should just leave her behind,” Lucy says.

  “No,” I say. “We’re doing this as a pod.”

  How many times do we need to have the same discussion about Mira? For better or worse, she’s one of us. And as far as the bounding rankings go, she’s carrying us.

  So it’s settled. The plan will go down tomorrow night. We’ll sneak out after curfew. Lucy will run a diversion with the guard. Then we’ll break into the cellblock, find the alien, ask some questions, and get out before the guard returns. We should be back in our beds with plenty of time to rest up for our big end-of-tour field trip to the Paleo Planet.

  Everything just has to go as planned.

  18

  AS SOON AS I STEP INTO the dorm, something slams into my ribs and knocks me onto my back. I’m winded. As I gasp for breath, I see things flying above me in the air. I must have hit my head.

  My vision comes into focus. I didn’t hit my head, and I’m not seeing things. It’s Regis, Hakim, and Randall soaring across the dorm in their blast packs. When I try to prop up, Regis lands at my feet and shoves me back down.

  “What do you have to say about these, B-wad?” Regis shakes his hands. He wears his gloves, and he grips the new silver pack straps.

  “You cheated!” Hakim yells.

  “We knew it was fixed!” Randall shouts. He hovers over me alongside Regis and Hakim.

  Regis kicks me in the stomach. Then he crouches down inches from my face. “You think you can humiliate me again, B-wad? You won’t walk out of here. They’ll have to wheel you to the med room.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I spy Marco skipping along the tabletop, his hands glowing with the light of his gloves.

  “Regis?” I whisper.

  He leans even closer. “Yeah, B-wad?”

  “You stink. You smell worse than Bad Breath. Are you training to be an auxiliary officer?”

  I laugh and then brace, waiting for the next blow. Marco raises his hands in the air. Behind him, Cole stretches his arms to the side. Then twenty pillows fly across the room and hit Regis and his sidekicks in the head, knocking them off balance.

  I jump to my feet and whip my gloves from my pack. I hop up next to Marco. A dozen other cadets have climbed onto the table, too. Marco must have clued them in on some of the gloves’ bonus functions. They lift the fallen pillows from the floor and fling them at Regis. Cole, the master Evolution strategist, shouts directions, and we stage a coordinated attack on the enemy. Half the cadets launch an assault from their stationary positions on the table. The other half suit up in their blast packs and dive-bomb the bullies.

  Regis, Randall, and Hakim dodge about aimlessly. Fear colors their faces. They can’t figure out what’s making the pillows fly.

  I direct my gloves at a pile of shoes by the door. One by one I hurl them at Regis. When the final shoe hits him in the head, he runs for his bunk and hides beneath his blanket.

  Once we’ve defeated Regis and his foot soldiers, the master offensive disintegrates into the biggest pillow fight ever waged at the EarthBound Academy. Cole gets me good with a pillow to the face, but I surprise Marco with a triple-pillow combination from behind. Ryan and the other guys in Sheek’s pod annihilate me with a coordinated strike. I can’t even defend myself, I’m laughing so hard.

  We know Ridders will show up eventually with his whistle. When he does, I hop down from the table, grab the closest pillow, and climb up to my bunk.

  Before burrowing beneath the covers, I run my hand along my clarinet case. I can’t believe our first tour of duty is almost over. This place isn’t so bad after all. I’m a Bounder. I belong here. I’m excited to go home in a few days, but I’ll be psyched to come back for our second tour. And I can’t wait until next year when I can show Addy the suction chutes and the bounding ships and the Ezone. But most of all I’m excited to introduce her to all my friends at the EarthBound Academy.

  The next night the kitchen pulls out all the stops in honor of the final rankings. They toss salads with the fresh romaine and tomatoes we grew in Subsistence. They dish out huge ladles of hot, gooey macaroni and cheese (the noodles might be tofu, but they’re drowning in cheese, so I try not to think about it). The dessert is awesome—butterscotch squeezy tubes. Marco and I keep grabbing more when the cook’s head is turned. I have five.

  Nothing can undo the damage of the twenty-one meals of tofu dogs we’ve had since arriving at the Academy (fourteen lunches and seven dinners, but who’s counting?), not to mention the thirteen servings of tofu strings, eighteen fluffed tofu breakfasts, seven lunches’ worth of tofu nuggets, and last Saturday night’s special, Tofu Surprise (don’t ask), but it’s nice to finish a meal without feeling hungry for once.

  All the cadets sit with their pods. The mess hall hums with laughter and chatter. But the chatter has a sharp edge, because final rankings post after dinner.

  Bad Breath held a Mobility make-up class this morning. By now everyone knows about the glove grips and has practiced with them in the Ezone. For the final relay, cadets got to choose which grips they wanted to use. Of course, I used the glove grips. Our pod won the relay fair and square. Not even Regis could come up with a complaint. Thank goodness those scores made it in for the final tabulation. We still have a shot at winning the competition.

  After dinner the five of us huddle around our orange table. “Can you believe the first tour is almost over?” Lucy asks. “Only two days until our field trip to the Paleo Planet, and in three days we’ll be back on Earth. It’s flown by. Really, it has. I can’t wait to get back home, but I’m bummed to go. I’m gonna miss all of you so much. It feels like I’ve known you forever.” Her voice cracks at the end of her speech.

  “You’d win an award for that performance, Drama Queen,” Marco says.

  Lucy smirks. “Aren’t you a bunch of lucky boys? You have the Drama Queen and the Dancing Queen in your pod!” She pats Mira’s hand. “I’m just teasing, sweetie.” Mira stares in the direction of the porthole. Did she even hear Lucy?

  Lucy’s a drama queen, but she’s right. It will be hard to say good-bye. We won’t see one another until the next tour of duty more than four months away. Cole and I talked about hanging out on Earth. We are only a few hours apart by rail in Americana East. But I don’t really think it will happen. We’ll be busy making up schoolwork, spending time with our families, and preparing to head back for our next tour this fall.

  “I can’t wait to see Earth again from space,” Cole says. “Maybe we’ll make a polar approach so we can see what’s left of the ice caps.”

  “Don’t know, Wiki,” Marco says, “but I call your seat for th
e return trip.”

  “Ohhh, yes, I get Jasper’s!” Lucy says.

  “No,” Cole says in a flat tone. “We’ll want the front seats for reentry.”

  I’m about to stake my verbal claim on the front row when the admiral’s honor guard enters the mess hall. A moment later Ridders appears with the rankings poster, and all the pod leaders march in after him. Even Florine Statton, who has kept a lower profile since the tofu strings episode, shows up.

  “Admiral on deck!” Bad Breath shouts.

  Chairs scrape against the floor as all one hundred and thirty cadets stand at attention.

  Admiral Eames crosses the mess hall, letting her gaze fall on each of us as she passes, just like she did when we took the Earth Force oath. “Good evening, cadets,” she says when she reaches the middle of the room. “I’ve been keeping track of your progress through regular meetings with your pod leaders and review of your scores. You’re an impressive bunch. All of you. You should be proud. You’ve truly exceeded our every expectation when we started the Bounder Baby Breeding Program and made plans for the EarthBound Academy. I applaud you.”

  When the admiral claps, we join in. The energy in the mess hall is thick. Our claps and hoots and hollers swell to a roar.

  She waves her hands to quiet us down. “Let’s get to the results. Please be seated.”

  We settle at our tables, still whirling with excitement and anticipation.

  “Of course, there can only be one first-place pod,” she continues, making her way back to Ridders’s side. “And, as you know, the winners will free-bound at our closing ceremony two days from now, after your field trip to the Paleo Planet.”

  Marco kicks me under the table. Lucy squeezes my hand. Did we pull it off? Or did my Mobility performance during most of the tour keep us from first place? I cross the fingers on my free hand.

  Ridders leans close to the admiral and whispers in her ear. The admiral searches the crowd. Maybe I’m wrong, but I swear her eyes zero in on Mira.

  “Placing first in the rankings,” the admiral says, “is Jon Waters’s pod.”

  Wow! We did it!

  Marco and I leap from our chairs and slap a high five. Lucy spins around in an impromptu dance. We lean forward into the center of the orange circle, pulling Cole and Mira along with us, and clasp arms as a pod. We did it! We really did it!

  At the front of the mess hall, Waters shakes the admiral’s hand. He waves back at the crowd of officers. They split apart and let Gedney step through their ranks. He hobbles over to Admiral Eames and Waters.

  Friends from other pods gather at our table to say congratulations.

  Meggi hugs me. “Way to go, Jasper. To be honest, I didn’t care much who won as long as it wasn’t Regis. There’ll be plenty of time to bound next tour.”

  Ridders posts the rankings. The other cadets crowd around the poster to find out their final rank. Regis, Hakim, and Randall try to sneak out the back, but Han runs after them and herds them to their table where he stands guard. That’s right, Regis. Ultio.

  Admiral Eames walks over to our table, Waters and Gedney at her sides. She takes a moment with each of us, shaking our hands and praising our win.

  “Jasper Adams?” she asks when she reaches me. She knows my name? I nod and smile so big, I worry my face might get stuck that way.

  “Congratulations,” she says. “You deserve this win. Now do me a favor, okay?”

  I nod again, not sure I can speak.

  The admiral laughs. “Enjoy your home leave. We have a lot of work to do when you come back for your next tour of duty in the fall. You’re important to us. Earth Force is counting on you, Jasper. I’m counting on you.”

  “Yes, Admiral,” I choke out.

  She stares at me for a long moment. A slow smile blossoms on her lips, and she tousles my hair. “Sometimes I forget you’re just kids. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some important business to get back to.” She shakes Waters’s hand, nods at Gedney, and leaves the mess hall.

  Waters and Gedney pull up chairs. Waters stretches his long legs in front of him and grabs a butterscotch squeezy. “These things are good,” he says. “Just steer clear of the tofu dogs.”

  “Uhhh, yeah,” Marco says, “we figured that out on day one.”

  “How do you like the tofu strings, Marco?” Waters asks with his I’ve got a secret grin plastered on his face.

  Does he know about the prank?

  Marco shrugs as the color drains from his face.

  Waters laughs and claps a hand on Marco’s shoulder. “The admiral’s right. You kids should be really proud. I’m really proud of you. You’ve done a great job this tour. Now you’ll get some downtime with your families, and we’ll be back together in a few months for your second tour of duty.”

  “Yes, yes, you’ve done well,” Gedney says. “You picked up the gloves very quickly.”

  That’s Gedney, always wanting us to be quick. I’m glad he thinks we’re fast learners.

  Cole hasn’t said much. And he hasn’t touched the second butterscotch squeezy I grabbed for him in the kitchen.

  “You okay, Cole?” Waters asks.

  “Yes, it’s just . . . I’m worried about the free-bound.”

  Waters switches his grip to Cole’s shoulder. “You’ll do fine, Cole. Don’t worry. Your percentages have been high. We’ll practice again before the bound.”

  Cole nods.

  “I wish we could stay,” Waters says, “but we have a briefing. Let’s get going, Gedney.” They rise and head for the door. Most of the officers have already left the hall.

  “We did it,” I say to my pod mates.

  “As if there were ever any doubt . . . ,” Lucy says.

  We sit for a minute, basking in our win, sucking down a few more squeezies. There’s nothing I like better than hanging out at this orange table with my pod mates. Back on Earth, I always felt like I stood outside the circle, looking in. With my pod, though, I’m part of the circle. We all are.

  Marco slams his hand down on the table. “Okay, Bounders, we got the win. I’ll put a check in that column. Now on to the next adventure. Tonight we have a date with an alien.”

  19

  “ALL CLEAR,” MARCO SAYS. HE STEPS into the hall, and Cole and I are on his heels. We dart for the chute cube.

  As soon as I pull the cube handle, Lucy peeks out of the arrival chute. “Nice of you to be on time.”

  “We’re here, okay? Is Mira with you?”

  “Ummm, yeah. We’re basically on top of each other in here. I’ll write it up as girl bonding.”

  “Whatever. I’m pushing the button, so be ready.” The girls crawl out of the arrival trough. The chute hums when I activate the system. Marco jumps onto the grate and is sucked into the chute. Lucy grabs Marco’s ankles, and Cole grabs Lucy. I make sure Mira’s in next, and I sail in behind her.

  As I whip around the last corner, I hope the others have cleared out. I’m not looking for a five-cadet pileup. Fortunately, Mira and I glide into an empty trough. I leap off and help her out after me. I straighten and take stock. We all made it. Time to move on to step two.

  “Cole, you know how to get to the cellblock, right?” I ask.

  He points to his head. “It’s all up here.”

  I nod. “Let’s go.”

  We dash out of the cube and run down the hall. Cole leads us through a series of turns until we reach another chute cube. We soar through the tube to another structure and take off running. We follow the sensor stripe through more turns until Cole pulls up short.

  “This is it,” he says. “Turn right, and the cellblock branches off from the end of the hallway.”

  That means the guard is at the end of the hallway, too. I look at Lucy. Her eyes open wide, and she looks like she’s holding her breath. “Hey,” I say. “You’ve got this, right?”

  She nods and squares her shoulders. “It’s not like any of you clowns could do it. Here, take this.” She shoves her blast pack into my arms and s
prints around the corner.

  A loud male voice: “Miss. Excuse me, miss! This is a restricted area. I’ll have to ask you to turn around and return the way you came.”

  Then Lucy’s voice, ragged with sobs: “Oh, thank goodness, I found you. I’m mixed up. I have no idea where I am. See, I’m just so devastated”—sob, choke, sob, cough, sob—“I can’t talk about it. Oh, I might as well talk about it. It’s Marco . . .”

  “Who?” the guard asks, but Lucy bowls right over him.

  “I can’t believe what that tofu-faced imbecile did,” Lucy wails. Next to me, Marco’s eyebrows pinch together. “He promised to save me a seat in the mess hall, and I found him talking to her.”

  “Who?”

  Oh, that poor guard.

  “I came in with my tray, and there she was. She’d pulled her chair up right next to his”—sobs so loud, I want to stick my fingers into my ears—“and she was practically on his lap—”

  “Miss. Miss—”

  “I didn’t know what to do, you know? I mean, do I shout at him for not saving me a seat? And I couldn’t anyway because I was just so shocked and so hurt and—”

  “Miss. You’re going to have to come with me, miss. No, no, no. You can’t sit here. I’m sorry about this, miss, but please. You’ll have to stand up.”

  Geez. I feel sorry for the guy. Listening to Lucy makes me cringe, and I know it’s all a ruse.

  Sob, choke, sob, cough. “I can’t get up. I just can’t. I don’t think I can walk. My chest, it hurts. My heart is broken. Or maybe I’m having a heart attack. Oh my goodness, that’s it—I’m having a heart attack. He’s killed me.”

  “Listen, miss, is there someone I can get for you? Someone who can help you?”

  “Florine. Florine will know what to do.”

  “Ms. Statton?”

  “Yesss!” Sob, cough, wail. “Hurry! Please!”

  The sound of the guard’s footsteps rattles in the hall. Heading in our direction. Oh no! We didn’t think of that. I grab the nearest door handle. Thank goodness, it’s unlocked.

 

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