There’s hesitation on both sides, but the gold tags drop off their bakus and so they have no choice but to retreat. My eyes leave Tobias and Gemma, however, and turn to the losing students, cradling the mess of their ruined bakus. None of them – even the eagle and the tiger – has escaped totally unscathed. Everyone is going to need some sort of repair.
The floor closes back over the arena, and I blink – it’s hard to believe I’m not actually dreaming.
‘What do you think?’ asks Jake.
‘I think . . . I think that was the coolest thing I think I have ever seen.’
‘Pretty awesome, right? But I could never be on a team,’ he says, running his hand over his dog baku’s back.
‘These are the Baku Battles,’ says Dr Grant, silencing us all once again with her voice. ‘Making it on to the team is a position of honour for any student – and first years . . . you’ll have your opportunity to prove yourself very shortly. But if you don’t make it on to a team, don’t worry. There will still be plenty to keep you busy. The team captains will be watching you during your class orientations and making their selection by the end of the day. To end off orientation, I’d like to thank Eric Smith for visiting us and helping to usher in this new Profectus school year.’
‘It’s my pleasure. Good luck, everyone. I’m sure I’ll be seeing some of you before too long.’
I glance around at all the students and I can see how everyone is looking at the team captains. With admiration and respect. They’re really a part of something. And the determination I can see in Tobias and Gemma’s eyes is something that I recognize.
This could really be where I shine.
Life at Profectus is shaping up to be more exciting than I could have possibly imagined.
‘YOU SHOULD ALL HAVE YOUR CLASS schedules now. Older students, you may head off – but freshmen, would you please stay behind,’ says Dr Grant. The podium descends and all around me, students are standing and preparing to head off to their first classes of the day.
I look down at Jinx’s back and, sure enough, my schedule for the week is displayed. Next up is a class called ‘Gathering’ – and it’s repeated every morning for the rest of the week. That must be the Profectus-equivalent of ‘Homeroom’. Apart from that, I can see some of the standard classes I would have taken at St Agnes: Maths and English, French, Phys-Ed (ugh) . . . but also in the mix are some much more interesting options: Coding, Design and the one I’ve been waiting for, Companioneering. We have fifteen minutes in each classroom today, meeting the teachers and finding out what’s expected of us.
‘Now you know what kind of gambling can go on at this school,’ says Jake.
‘You bet on the Baku Battles?’
‘You bet we do!’ Jake laughs. ‘You going to try for a team?’
‘Do you think I should? It looks so exciting but . . .’ I cling tightly to Jinx. I can’t imagine wanting to see him torn apart after all the hard work I’ve done putting him back together.
‘Well remember – first years don’t get to battle – they’re just alternates in the case of player sickness or baku malfunction.’
‘Oh well, in that case – maybe it would be cool to be on a team,’ I say, with genuine excitement. I’ve never been great at teamwork, preferring to work on my own most of the time at St Agnes. But at Profectus, it feels like anything could happen. ‘Any tips on who the best team captain is?’
‘Well, it should be Tobias hands down,’ says Jake. ‘His brother, Nathan, won it last year. But I wouldn’t count Gemma out. And they say this year might be a wild card year, so there might be some surprises. Anyway, I’d better go. Catch you later,’ he says.
‘Bye,’ I reply. He reaches out to touch Jinx again, but Jinx hisses in response. I attempt to laugh it off but I can see confusion warring on Jake’s face.
Please behave . . . I try to make my tone sound like a warning, but I can hear Jinx’s scoff in my head. He knows my threats are empty. We might have communication down, but commands? I don’t think I have any control over the baku at all. I might have to do some deeper digging into the code.
I head down to the gym floor where the other first years are mingling before Jake can ask me any questions. There’s a mix of nationalities and bakus, and almost everyone has a level 3. The notable exception is Carter, and I skirt the edge of the crowd to avoid him.
Jinx suddenly buzzes at my feet, strands of his fur lighting up in an undulating pattern.
What’s going on? I ask.
>>Someone is trying to access our data to find out more about you. Happened so quickly they almost bypassed . . .
‘Miss Chu, is it?’
I look up and freeze in place. Eric Smith is standing within touching distance of me, his red panda baku staring down at me with onyx-dark eyes. ‘Looking forward to starting at Profectus?’
‘Uh . . . yes, sir,’ I say, my cheeks burning with the attention.
He smiles at me, but it seems to falter as he reads data from his baku. ‘Lacey Chu . . .’ he says, and a small wrinkle appears in his forehead.
Dread fills my stomach, and I turn the ring on my thumb anxiously.
He shakes his head. ‘Must be a coincidence,’ he mutters, mostly to himself. ‘Are you going to make one of the Baku Battle teams?’
‘I hope so, sir,’ I stutter out.
‘You have better odds than my son here,’ he gestures to Carter, who’s appeared behind me. ‘He’s not the most natural athlete, even with the help of a level 4 baku. How you convinced your mother to buy you that thing . . . what a waste of a darn good baku, if you ask me.’
I can almost feel the heat radiating from Carter next to me, and he’s huffing like his boar. If it was anyone else, the surge of pity I feel for him in this moment would be an avalanche. So not everything is great and easy in the life of Carter Smith.
‘Where’s your baku, Miss Chu?’ Eric asks me.
I look down at my feet – Jinx is nowhere to be seen. ‘Uhh . . .’
‘Mr Smith! Can I introduce myself . . .’ a bubbly student bounds in between us, preventing me from having to answer. I take a few steps back and almost step into Carter. Traces of beetroot-red shame linger at his temples, but he tries to keep up the cocky attitude. I almost admire him for it. Almost.
‘You shouldn’t be here,’ he hisses. ‘You should be at St Agnes with your loser friend. I wouldn’t even try to get on to a team if I were you, I’d only have to destroy you.’ Suddenly he yelps, and he looks down at his hand – which has a tiny scratch mark that beads with blood. ‘What the hell?’ he asks. He looks at me accusingly, but I haven’t done anything.
Jinx rubs up against my legs.
I swallow, emboldened by Jinx’s appearance. ‘Look, this is a new school year – can we just forget about St Agnes?’
‘You don’t get it, do you? Your dad might be a loser who couldn’t handle life at Moncha, but my dad runs the place. You’re lucky I didn’t tell my dad exactly who you are. He’d have you kicked out of the school for sure.’
I step back as if I’d been slapped. ‘Lay off my family, Carter.’
‘Oh, now you’re defending him?’
‘I’m not doing anything. I just want to start my school year in peace. If you don’t want to be civil then leave me alone.’
‘Suit yourself. Stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours.’
‘Fine by me.’
Thankfully Carter and I are separated into different groups, and we head off on our classroom tour separately. If there’s anything that could take my mind off Carter and his comments about my dad, it’s discovering all the wonders of Profectus.
Even the normal classrooms, the ones for subjects like Maths, English, French and History, are equipped with state-of-the-art e-ink desks and leashes that the bakus plug into during classtime – so that they’re under control, but can still help with assignments.
Another cool thing I find out is that each one of our professors is an actual employee of Mo
ncha Corp. It gives them a little break from the high intensity work environment of their regular jobs, while enabling them to keep an eye out on the next generation and help to foster new talent. Our advanced coding teacher, Ms Watson, normally works on emotional AIs and gamification within the software engineering sector. After seeing the facilities that Profectus offers, I’m not surprised that employees don’t mind taking some time off to teach. The coding classroom has floor-to-ceiling screens, and Ms Watson seems to delight in showing off all the customizations she can make to the walls and ceilings – while teaching us at the same time.
I’m equally blown away by the materials testing lab, which includes a gigantic universal testing machine (it looks like an old-fashioned guillotine, except it’s used to test the strength of different materials), the huge wind tunnel, for students studying aeronautical engineering, and the drafting classroom, with extra-wide desks and skylights that allow in lots of clear bright light.
Everything is even better than I could possibly have imagined. The vision board did not do it justice.
But there’s one class I’ve been waiting for even more than all the others.
Companioneering.
The classroom is almost disappointingly normal-looking, with a blackboard in front and several neat rows of desks. I take a seat at one of the desks near the middle and attempt to get Jinx to leash up. He doesn’t.
The door opens and I look up in anticipation. But it’s the team captains who enter, filing in one by one with their bakus. I’m glad this is the one that they’ve come to observe us in – I know that I can prove myself here, and Carter isn’t in this class to distract me.
Jinx stalks around the classroom as if he were lion-shaped rather than a house cat. Most bakus don’t roam as far from their owners as he does to me, and I keep willing him back, tugging at the leash on my ear to call him. But he ignores me. I’m learning that nothing I do will make him stay where I want him to, so I resort to begging.
Please come back.
He doesn’t reply.
The classroom door opens again and a man in a plain white T-shirt and jeans (and maybe an oil-stain on his shirt too?) hurries into the room, an owl baku – the standard, I’ve learned, for teaching staff – flapping behind him. The owl lands on the desk and projects his name on to the wall behind him: DEREK BAIRD. This is our teacher? He looks more dishevelled than any of the students, but then again we’re all forced to wear a uniform.
He must have some sort of authority though, as the other students quieten down and settle into their seats. Jinx still hasn’t returned to my side, which makes me uneasy. He’s supposed to help register me for class. I don’t want to mess everything up in front of the team captains.
Mr Baird claps his hands together and then rubs them fiercely as if he’s trying to start a fire. ‘Right, guys, right! Welcome back to day one of the rest of your lives! And here in the best class of all – companioneering!’ He has a lilting Scottish accent that somehow makes me want to sit up even straighter in my chair.
There’s a rumble of laughter around the room, but my stomach clenches. This man’s casual attitude to something that I’ve wanted my entire life is freaking me out.
No one else seems to care though. There’s a girl next to me, her auburn hair cropped short on her head, leaning forward on her hands, as if she’s trying desperately to soak in everything that she can. Her posture is almost the mirror image of mine. I’m leaning so far forward, my belly is pressed up against the edge of the desk and digging in. I sit back a bit and try to relax.
I look down at her feet and see a tabby cat baku at her feet, leashed up to the desk and streaming information about companioneering on to her desk. A helpful cat baku.
>>Instead you’re stuck with me.
Oh, so now you’ll talk with me. Come back here and behave like that baku and maybe I’d be happy. Will you?
>>Not a chance. Her name is Nalini, by the way, and her baku is Ginger.
I roll my eyes, but then catch Nalini looking at me, a frown on her face. Oh no, I hope she doesn’t think I’m rolling my eyes at her. I smile weakly and try to say hi, but Mr Baird starts talking.
‘So, hands up, who’s interested in companioneering?’ Mr Baird looks expectantly around the classroom.
Nalini shoots her hand straight up and mine follows, more slowly. I take a quick glance over my shoulder and see that there are only about five hands out of the twenty-something first years in the classroom. The team captains look at us appraisingly, taking notes, and as I glance around, I catch the eye of Tobias – who is now staring straight at me. My throat feels like it’s swelling up and I find it hard to swallow – caught in the light streaming into the classroom, his dark green eyes look light, the colour of moss in early spring. I look away. He almost caused Zora to lose Linus. I cannot like him, no matter what the light does to the colour of his eyes.
‘Well, we only have a few minutes together today and I’m sure you’re all feeling completely overwhelmed by everything you’ve seen so far. If you’re not, you’re not normal.’ There’s a titter of nervous laughter from the classroom. ‘You’ll notice we’ve got visitors,’ – he gestures to the team captains standing by the wall – ‘but don’t worry about impressing them; they’ve made their selections already. Remember all that hard work you did trying to get in to Profectus in the first place? Well, that’s all been sent straight to the team captains’ bakus. Your fates are sealed, young ones. But if you don’t get picked – don’t worry. You’ll have the chance to prove yourselves before next year’s selections, when the real fun begins.’
I frown, disappointed at Mr Baird’s news. That’s my shot at being selected over with. I barely scraped an acceptance into Profectus.
‘Now, if you could all please ask your bakus to bring up the first—’ But Mr Baird doesn’t get to finish his sentence. There’s a loud crash as books, files and an old globe are sent tumbling from a high shelf above the heads of the team captains. Everyone watches as the team captains shield their bakus from the falling objects. But I look up to the shelf, a sick feeling turning my stomach. My heart lurches. Yep, standing stock still as a statue, staring at me as if I didn’t know exactly who was the culprit, is Jinx.
>> What, me? I can almost hear him say. The wide eyes and uplifted tail say it all.
He flicks his tail now, nonchalant about the chaos he’s just caused, and leaps down off the shelf.
‘Stop that baku!’ Mr Baird shouts.
The other students kick out their legs or reach down to grab at Jinx as he passes, but he nimbly jumps and dodges them all, until he reaches me and jumps up into my lap.
Crap.
‘THAT THING IS YOURS?’ MR BAIRD ASKS, his eyes blazing.
‘Probably defective,’ says one of the other students, and everyone starts laughing – the tension broken.
‘I . . . I’m really sorry . . .’ I begin to say, but Mr Baird’s owl flaps his wings past me, dropping a small token into my lap. It’s a black disc, not much bigger than a coin. I pick it up and turn it over in my palm.
‘That’s not for you, it’s for your baku,’ Mr Baird snaps. ‘It’s a black mark. A one hour enforced power down. You won’t be able to use your baku for the next hour. And you’ll see me after class for detention for the disruption you’ve caused.’
As if by magic – but more likely, by magnet – the black disc jumps out of my palm and locks itself to Jinx’s tail. Instantly, Jinx slumps in my arms, his power sapped. He’s almost back to the way he was when I first found him – just a misshapen hunk of metal. I’m in shock for a moment, but then panic sets in. ‘What? You can’t do that!’ I tug the metal disc but it won’t budge.
‘One hour, Miss . . .’ he looks down at his baku, ‘Chu. You didn’t think you could come to Profectus Academy, the official training programme for Moncha Corp, and not end up finding out about some new, proprietary technology, do you? And let this be a lesson to all of you newbies,’ he says, lifting his st
ern gaze away from me and addressing the rest of the class. ‘Any sign of misbehaviour by the bakus, or by yourselves, and we have ways of shutting you down. Black marks are real. While you are on these school grounds, you are under Moncha’s rules. The older students know that all too well. Don’t you?’
The team captains nod, staring at me with a mixture of disbelief and bemusement that makes my cheeks burn. I’ve never been one to get in trouble with my teachers, and I hate that I might have made a bad impression already in front of the captains. Anger tenses up all my muscles. My fingers worry at the black mark, trying to pry it off, but it’s no good.
‘Well, I’d say it’s almost time for the team selections,’ says Mr Baird. ‘And considering this is the best class, it won’t shock you that this is where you’ll be finding out just who’s made the team.’
There’s some commotion as the doors open and other freshmen years file in. I take the opportunity to look at the captains – other than Tobias, who is glaring at me and sheltering his eagle protectively. What’s his problem? I wonder. I avoid his gaze and instead study Gemma, with her fierce tiger baku. She seems amazing – strong, and in sync with her baku. It’s for the chance to get to meet people like her that I wanted to come to Profectus.
To be around my kind of people.
‘Everyone here?’ asks Mr Baird, to his baku. The owl nods and hoots once. ‘Let’s find out who’s made the team then.’
In the classroom all around us, bakus buzz and light up with notifications. There’s an immediate scramble as everyone rushes to see if they’ve been selected for a team. I’m the only one who can’t check her baku – because he’s lying motionless in my arms. That black mark might have ruined all my chances.
The girl next to me squeals with excitement. She looks up at Elektra. ‘I’ve made your team!’
‘Welcome, Nalini!’ says the captain with bright blue hair.
I cross my arms, miserable, waiting to see who else has been chosen. Of course, I hear the snuffling of Carter’s boar as he saunters up to the front. But there’s something unsure about the way he’s walking, and he frowns down at his baku. He stops in front of Tobias, but then hesitates. Tobias and Gemma turn to each other – Gemma folding her arms across her chest. ‘Did you do this on purpose?’ she asks. She looks angry.
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