Bounders Read online

  I know the alarm is off, but no one else does—well, no one other than Marco and Cole—so I have to be quiet. I dangle my legs down from the top bunk and drop the remaining distance to the floor. I’m grateful Cole campaigned for the front bunks. I only have five meters to cross to the exit.

  Luck is with me. Finally. I’m due some luck. I make it out of the dorm and all the way to the sensory gym without encountering a single person. The halls are empty. Almost too empty.

  The sensory gym is dark. I trace the wall with my fingers to keep my bearings. When I reach the corner, I turn toward the music room. I don’t reach for the light switch. Something about playing music in the dark feels powerful. And the last time I played—alone with Addy on my final night at home—was in the dark. I want to connect the nights. Anchor them in time and space with a huge sweeping arc, so I know there’s always a place for me. A place where I feel safe and loved. A place where no one judges me.

  The piano dominates the room. I slip along its side, finding my space in its sleek curvature, resting my case on its wood. I lift my clarinet from its velvet cradle and fit its pieces into place. As I raise the reed to my lips, I erase the humiliation of the blast pack—my failed launches and wacky turns and crippling crashes—at least for a moment. I am in control.

  The first note is dead on, and I push until the tone rattles the legs of the wobbly chair in the corner. I close my eyes and let the music guide me. Let it go. Let all of it go.

  When the first notes from the piano rise up to meet me, I’m not surprised. On some level, I expected them. I must have known Mira would come. Maybe that’s why I’m here—to be with Mira—although I can’t fully admit it.

  Mira’s music swells and weaves with mine. Our song holds echoes of the melancholy tune from before, but our crescendo peaks with joy and promise. The notes carry so much power, they can’t be contained by the music room. They run into the sensory gym, prance along the trampolines, dash through the halls, fly through the chutes, and dance into the infinity of space.

  When it’s over, I take apart my clarinet and close the case. I glide my hand along the edge of the piano until I reach the keys. Mira stands, her faint outline visible in the darkened room. She takes both of my hands in hers. I’d let most of my emotion out in our music, but I let what’s left flow into Mira. Homesickness, Regis, the nagging feeling something terrible is about to happen. I let go of the fear that I’m not good enough, that I’m holding back the pod. I release my utter bafflement about why my pod keeps looking to me to lead, and the big ball of awkwardness I know has something to do with Mira.

  Her hands curl around mine. Her silent words sound in my mind.

  I am here for you.

  Hand in hand, Mira and I leave the sensory gym and walk down the hallway that is as empty as when I first left the dorm. And then, all of a sudden it isn’t. The sound of voices swells from an intersecting hallway and grows louder. A large group of people is approaching. Fast. And we’re out of our beds after curfew.

  “Quick, we need to hide,” I say. A chute cube is a few meters ahead. I rush Mira inside. “Climb into the trough. Get far enough in so they won’t see you.”

  Mira climbs into the chute, and I scoot in after her. There’s only half a meter of flat space between where the chute takes a sharp turn down and where the arrival trough is visible from the hallway. In other words, Mira and I are crammed practically on top of each other.

  I don’t know what to do with my hands. Anywhere I set them, they seem to be touching Mira. Finally I just shove them under my butt. Her hair is in my face. I can’t swipe it away because I’m sitting on my hands, so I try to blow it. That kind of works, but not really.

  The whole thing is so awkward, I stop paying attention to the voices. Ah yes, the voices, the whole reason Mira and I are stuck in the chute in the first place. The voices are still coming. I inch forward with my head until I can see the floor in front of the chute cube. Dozens of pairs of feet shuffle by.

  Where are they going? Or, the better question turns out to be: Where are they coming from?

  A loud female voice stands out above the rest: “Thank you for the briefing tonight. We are prepared. There shouldn’t be a problem as long as we follow protocol. Still, raising the alert to orange is the prudent course.”

  Admiral Eames?

  “Admiral, I agree raising the alert level is imperative. Frankly, I’d feel better if it were raised to red,” a second voice responds. I know that voice. Waters.

  “Noted, Jon. Do not doubt we take your warnings very seriously. But in this instance, I don’t want to create false panic. Canceling the field trip to the Paleo Planet would cause alarm and could derail the tourism initiative. Not to mention, I certainly don’t wish to get us off the training timetable.”

  “Yes, it’s best to hurry.” Gedney’s there, too?

  “We’re all aware of the time sensitivity,” Admiral Eames says. “I understand there’s a standout in the group.”

  “A few, actually,” Waters says. “We knew of their aptitude going in, so we’ve grouped them in the same pod.”

  “That’s wise,” Admiral Eames says. “With these recent developments, we’ll need them sooner than we expected.”

  Wind rustles Mira’s hair and blows it back in my face. As I strain to hear Waters’s response, a low hum drowns out his words. And the walls of the chute start to vibrate.

  Oh no. Someone’s in the chute.

  16

  MIRA’S ARMS WRAP AROUND ME AS something slams against us. We fly out of the chute into the arrival trough. My head bangs roughly against the stopper.

  I know it’s bad. But it’s actually worse.

  Three other cadets fly into the chute cube, piling on top of me and Mira. They bounce off surprisingly fast. And who can blame them? They’ve found an unexpected treasure.

  “Well, what have we here?” Regis grins down at us, flanked by Hakim and Randall.

  You have got to be kidding me. I guess my luck has turned.

  Regis laughs. “The King of the Blast Pack and the Dancing Queen having a little alone time in the chutes? Priceless.”

  My brain flips. There’s no getting out of this mess. We’re doubly busted. The admiral and Regis. I don’t know which is worse. And I have no way to spin it. Mira is so freaked, she clutches my hand for dear life. The only silver lining is Regis and his minions will be busted, too. In fact, I don’t think Regis realizes the admiral is standing just outside the chute cube.

  “Is this what you two lovebirds do?” Regis says. “Sneak out at night and ride the chutes? No wonder Queenie set off so many alarms. She had to go meet her boyfriend.”

  “Shut up, Regis!” I say.

  “Shut up, Regis,” he mocks.

  The door to the chute cube opens. “Yes,” commands Admiral Eames. “You’d be wise to shut up.”

  Regis, Hakim, and Randall spin around to face the admiral. Their hands shake as they try to hold their salutes. I climb out of the trough and help Mira out after me before snapping to attention.

  “What is the meaning of this?” the admiral asks. “Joyriding the chutes after curfew is against the rules.”

  Wow. Admiral Eames thinks we were riding with Regis. Well, no reason to correct her.

  “I’m sorry, Admiral,” I say. “It was poor judgment on our part. It won’t happen again.”

  “You’re right it won’t, cadet,” she says. “Or you’ll be on the first ship back to Earth. Am I clear?”

  “Yes, Admiral,” I say in chorus with Regis and his two sidekicks.

  I don’t know if the admiral notices Mira’s silence, but Waters jumps in right away. He inserts himself between me and Mira and places a hand on each of our shoulders.

  “These two are mine, Admiral,” Waters says. “I’ll make sure they’re disciplined. I believe the others are in Captain Han’s pod.”

  “Very well,” Admiral Eames says, and then addresses Regis and the other cadets. “You three return to the dormit
ory immediately. I’ll inform your pod leader and make sure you’re disciplined appropriately.”

  “Yes, Admiral,” they say, and immediately depart in the chute.

  “Good night,” Admiral Eames says, nodding at Waters. “Keep your pod in check, Jon. We’re counting on you.” On her way out, she turns to Gedney. “Good work.”

  Gedney mumbles something incomprehensible and blushes.

  I don’t want to look up at Waters, but I know I have to. His arms are crossed in front of his chest, and he has a stern stonelike gaze.

  “I don’t know what you two were doing,” Waters says. “And I’m not going to ask. Let’s just say, I expect it never to happen again. Got it?”

  I look back down at my shoes. “Got it.”

  Mira doesn’t respond, though I doubt he expected her to.

  “Good,” Waters says. “And one more thing. You two surprise me. I never expected you to be associating with the likes of that Regis character. I’ve been watching him. He’s bad news. Who you spend time with in your free moments is your own business, but I’d think twice about him.”

  I open my mouth to respond—I don’t want Waters to think I’m buddies with Regis—but he has already turned and pushed open the door to the chute cube.

  Gedney winks. Oh well. At least he gets it.

  The next week is brutal. No, really. Brutal. During lecture, someone runs a worm through the class server, and a huge heart pops up on everyone’s tablets with the words Jasper and Mira written in the middle. Most of the class bursts out laughing. Even Marco laughs. And Ryan! Doesn’t the guy remember I saved his life in the chute catastrophe?

  Mira is checked out as usual, so I’m the prime teasing target.

  I run for the door as soon as lecture ends and hide in the back of the mess hall during lunch. I nearly choke as I shovel food into my mouth as fast as possible so I can escape from here, too. Lucy corners me and demands to know what’s going on. I shrug, shove a protein bar into my pocket, and sneak out the back door.

  I kill time, stalking the halls and riding the chutes. If I keep moving, maybe I can outrun all the jokers who think their life missions are to remind me how much I suck. After all, the joke’s on me. I waited my whole life to go to the EarthBound Academy. Surrounded by other Bounders, I’d finally find a place I fit, where I didn’t suck at everything. Well, here I am. And I still suck.

  At least this tour of duty is almost over. Yeah, so I can go back home and get teased for being a B-wad until my next tour, when I can come back and get teased for being a B-wad who can’t fly.

  I can’t wait until pod session so I can stop running. But by the time I make it to the Ezone, I’m so exhausted, I don’t know if I’ll be able to function. Waters runs us through drills like he took pointers from Bad Breath. He’s still punishing me for embarrassing him in front of Admiral Eames. Great. The harsh pod sessions are my fault, too.

  After a particularly grueling glove exercise, Waters’s com pin beeps, and he steps out of the Ezone. I lie on the floor and drape both of my arms over my head. Every time a thought pops into my brain, I shoo it away. I want a blank mind. The blanker, the better.

  “Okay, kids,” Waters says when he comes back in. “You’re lucky. No more drills today. I have to leave early. Gedney will finish up.”

  Leave early? I push myself up on my elbows. By the door, Waters talks with Gedney. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but Waters is angry about something. And he’s in an awful hurry to leave. Good. Maybe Gedney will let us go, too. I wouldn’t mind some free time in the sensory gym.

  Gedney shuffles to the center of the Ezone and claps his hands. “Now, now, I’m glad Waters is gone. We can explore the extra features of these gloves.” He withdraws his pair from his pocket and eases them onto his fingers. No such luck on getting out early, I guess.

  “Extra features?” Cole asks.

  Gedney nods. “Yes. Amazing technology, these gloves. Unlimited, what they can do. I’ve hardly scratched the surface of their capabilities. I expect you’ll be teaching me a few tricks before long.”

  That’s weird. I thought he invented the gloves.

  Gedney drags an orange cafeteria chair to the center of the Ezone. “You all know the gloves can manipulate the necessary replicating atoms in order to bound, but here’s something you might not know. These gloves can manipulate any atoms—for instance, the atoms that comprise this chair.”

  Gedney points his hands at the chair. Light shoots from his fingers. The chair rattles on its legs.

  Wow. Cool.

  “Can I try?” Marco jumps to his feet and stands next to Gedney. He waves his arms like a magician and then aims his fingers at the chair. The chair levitates a few centimeters above the ground.

  I try next and slide the chair about two meters across the Ezone.

  I’m feeling pretty good about myself. Better than I’ve felt in a while. When it comes to the gloves, I’m good.

  “Come on, Jasper,” Marco says. “Lift it.”

  I focus on the chair and shoot beams of light through my fingertips. The chair wobbles on its legs, just like it did for Gedney, then rises off the ground.

  Yes! I’m doing it. I hold the chair aloft—five, ten, pushing twenty centimeters. It’s awesome. I’m awesome. I’ve never felt more powerful.

  My neural connection is suddenly severed. The chair launches high in the air and flies across the room, crashing into the wall. The shock knocks me off balance, and I fall to my knees.

  What on earth was that? I might be good, but I’m not that good. I didn’t throw that chair.

  As I push myself up, a sick feeling stirs in my belly. Mira. She’s the only one who is that powerful with the gloves. I turn slowly, knowing who I’ll find, hoping I’m wrong.

  Mira stands behind me, that serene look on her face.

  Rage boils up from somewhere deep inside. Who does she think she is, staying disconnected from everyone all the time until the moment she can show me up? How dare she?

  I charge at her, stopping right before her face. “Why’d you do that? What are you trying to prove? That you’re better than I am? I already know that, okay? You don’t have to go reminding me all the time. You win!”

  Even as the words spew from my mouth, I know they’re not fair. It’s not Mira’s fault I suck at flying, that I feel like I’m disappointing everyone all the time. But I’m angry, and Mira is an easy target. I’m sick of being teased, of always being on the outside. She’s part of the reason. And it’s kind of her fault everyone at the Academy thinks I’m her boyfriend. But I’m not. I’m not her boyfriend.

  “I’m not your boyfriend!” I scream.

  Mira buckles at the waist as if I’d struck her.

  “Jasper!” Lucy yells. “What’s the matter with you?” She places her hand on Mira’s back and guides her to a corner of the Ezone.

  I lean over, resting my weight on my knees, and struggle to catch my breath. In the corner, Mira sinks to the ground and pulls her legs to her chest. When Lucy sits down next to her, she flinches.

  I am such a B-wad.

  “Dude,” Marco says. “Stellar. Way to take out our pod star.”

  Where’s Gedney? Isn’t this the kind of thing a teacher should be jumping all over?

  Gedney reemerges seconds later. He carries a large metal bin. “I think we have a few more minutes,” Gedney says. “Let’s give these a try.”

  That’s it? He isn’t even going to lecture me? Somehow that makes me feel even more guilty.

  “Grab your blast packs,” Gedney says.

  Is he serious? This day could not get worse.

  “Jasper, come on up,” Gedney says. “You’ll be our guinea pig today.”

  For a long moment I don’t move. I even think about refusing, but I’m such a sucker for that whole respecting authority thing. I push myself up slowly. If I can’t swing a flat-out refusal, at least I can make them wait for me.

  I drag my feet to the door, where we dropped our packs,
and fish mine out of the pile. What is he going to make me do? Practice in front of the entire pod? Hammer home just how awful I am? I guess I have it coming. Humiliation is small payback for what I did to Mira.

  The pack feels heavy on my back. Twice as heavy as usual. I inch to the center, staring at the floor, hoping Gedney might take pity on me and change his mind.

  “Good, good,” Gedney says. “Thought you’d never make it. But now we’re ready. No cause to delay.”

  Yeah, yeah. Hurry, hurry, hurry. We get it, Geds.

  “Do you remember what I said when Waters left?” Gedney asks.

  I don’t respond at first. What is this? A quiz? “You said it was unlimited what the gloves can do.”

  “Right you are. Unlimited.” Gedney sets the box on the floor. “Jasper, reach up on the control straps of the blast pack until you feel where they connect. Remove them. You’ll have to compress the latch with both fingers and pull.”

  I do as he says—find where the control snaps connect, and detach them.

  “Good. Now put those old straps in the pack pocket.” Gedney bends down and pulls a pair of silver straps out of the box. “And put these on.”

  Now this is getting interesting. Once I’ve put the old straps in the pack, I connect the silver ones. Can this really be what I’m thinking? Can the gloves control the pack?

  “Give ’em a whirl,” Gedney says.

  I hold the new straps out in front of me. No buttons. I place one in my right palm and one in my left. And squeeze.

  Immediately my brain is aware of the pack. No, not aware. Linked. The pack is part of me. The connection courses through my veins.

  I frame my intentions and shoot a message from my brain to the gloves exactly like we’ve been trained. Instantaneously I launch.

  I soar to the rafters and bank right. The connection between my brain and body sizzles. I’m in complete command of the pack.