Bounders Page 4
Freeze-dried yogurt chunks, carob-coated fruit balls, veggie puffs, and an assortment of protein bars. I was hoping for something cool, a space station exclusive. No luck. Just the standard Americana fare. They must have stocked up at the aeroport.
That doesn’t stop me from attacking the snacks. Cole and Lucy have to fight me for the last pack of fruit balls. And, yes, Lucy wins. After all, she was the one who sweet-talked the plebes into giving her a whole uniform full of snacks.
4
“THIS IS YOUR CAPTAIN. WE ARE disengaging FTL. We’ll be arriving at the Earth Force Space Station in approximately twenty-three minutes. Return to your seats, and fasten your harnesses.”
“Later,” Lucy says as she climbs over the seat.
“What a relief,” Cole says. “She thinks she knows everything.”
I choke back a laugh. I guess it takes one to know one. “I like her. Although she really talks a lot.”
Cole mumbles something under his breath.
A loud boom shakes the craft. My body pulls against the harness again, just as it did after we cleared Earth’s orbit. A few seconds pass, and I fall back against the seat like I was yanked down. Gravity? Stabilized.
Through the front windows, the space station is suspended like an enormous spider web, and we’re the unlucky bug about to be caught. As we close in, I can see how truly huge the station is. There are at least fifty structures. Most of them look like gigantic metal shoe boxes, the size of futbol fields, all tipped at different angles. They’re connected by metal tubes that twist through space like the wires and hoses that connect the parts inside a hover engine.
Small crafts take off and land from two dozen docks, some mounted on top of structures, some with interior launch sites. The top deck of the space station belongs to the quantum fleet. The sphere-shaped ships made of liquid metal stand in a line. Beyond them, space flickers and waves. I blink. I know it’s the quantum field, but it feels like my eyes are playing tricks on me.
“I’ve received a message from the control tower,” the captain says over the intercom. “A quantum ship is bounding through in about thirty seconds. Keep your eyes focused on the quantum field, and you can watch.”
Cole and I loosen our harnesses and sit up on our knees so we can see out the front windows. The strange wavy space makes me lose focus, zone out. I blink hard and press my fingers on my temples to stay alert. Am I imagining things? No. The space bends outward like a balloon filling with air. Then . . . pop! The quantum ship pushes through the field. I can hardly believe that a second ago that ship was in a different galaxy.
The ship’s liquid metal skin glistens with the light of a million rainbows as starlight and the floods from the space station dance across its surface. I’ve studied the technology behind bounding and the quantum ships, but it’s hard to get my head around the physicality of the thing. It looks like a giant silver ball of water that should drop to the ground like rain and form a puddle on the bounding deck. Instead the liquid clings together in its spherical form. Inside, the atoms race around the sphere at FTL Plus, holding the structure together in some sort of Einsteined–up centrifugal force.
Spider Crawler robots surround the ship and bring up the occludium membrane to shield and stabilize the outer core. The boarding platform bridges the top of the ship, and one of the Crawlers peels back the hatch. Within seconds the aeronauts emerge. Five of them. All geared up in the silver aeronaut suit of Earth Force.
“Five,” Cole says. “A pod.”
“Yep.” I was thinking the same thing.
“Oh my goodness!” shouts a girl a few rows ahead. “That’s Maximilian Sheek!”
An echo of screams follows. Shrieks for Sheek. I think that’s the slogan. I should know. It’s scrawled across the poster hanging above Addy’s desk. I can’t believe Earth Force lets him pose like that—muscles all flexed in his skintight aeronaut suit. He has a silly half grin and a big pouf of wavy brown hair. Addy always says I could do my hair like Sheek if I wanted. Right. Give me a razor, and I’d shave my head before I’d leave the house looking like Sheek. Good thing most of the other aeronauts seem decent and not all caught up in their celebrity. What will happen when the Bounders learn to pilot the ships? Will the people love us the way they’ve always loved the aeronauts?
A few rows ahead, a group of girls won’t shut up about Sheek. I roll my eyes and whisper to Cole, “If this is gonna turn into a love fest for Sheek, I would have stayed back on Earth.” I scan the other aeronauts on the bounding deck. “Do you think that could be Han?”
Cole isn’t paying attention. “Look,” he says, “someone else is coming out of the ship.”
A small hunched form hauls himself onto the boarding platform.
“That aeronaut’s so short,” Lucy says from the row ahead. “Is he a kid? A Bounder?”
The aeronaut tips forward at an odd angle. “Nope,” I say, “that’s a Tunneler.”
“I didn’t know they could pilot the ships,” she says.
“That was the deal,” Cole says. “They gave us their occludium mining technology, and we taught them how to bound.”
We dip beneath the bounding deck, clear the space field, and coast into the hangar. At least four passenger crafts could fit within its walls. And the hangar is almost as high as it is wide. Something about it reminds me of the hospital where Mom works. Maybe it’s because everything looks ultrasterile. The floor, ceiling, and walls are all painted grayish-green, the color of spearmint toothpaste. Rows of fluorescent lights cross the hangar’s roof, throwing a glare across the cavernous space.
“Did you see that?” Cole whispers.
“What?”
“At the front of the hangar. There were at least a dozen active gun stations. And look, there’s another dozen in here.”
Sure enough, manned gun stations line the perimeter of the hangar. “Up there, too.” I point to a gunner stationed at an upper post. “What’s that all about?”
“I don’t know,” Cole says. “I’ve never seen any reference to it.”
“Attention, puh-leeeze,” Florine says over the intercom once the hangar crew has signaled for the hatch opening. “We have arrived. Line up to leave the craft and follow the officers’ instructions. The Earth Force induction ceremony will commence as soon as we are assembled. Admiral Eames will administer the officers’ oath. Try to demonstrate some measure of military decorum.”
As we stand in line to leave the craft, Cole tells Lucy and me the history of the Earth Force induction ceremony. I tune him out. I’m not really capable of listening. Since we landed in the hangar, my heart’s been beating so hard, my blood’s pumping double time in my eardrums. We’re just moments away from meeting Admiral Eames and taking the oath to serve as officers of Earth Force.
We follow the other kids off the craft. By the time we reach the ramp, most of the cadets are already lined up at the center of the hangar. The plebes usher us to our positions. At least three hundred officers stand at attention behind a podium placed five meters ahead of our group. Lieutenant Ridders stands behind the podium. His arm jerks in salute. “Admiral on deck.”
I don’t know what to do. Should I salute? We aren’t technically Earth Force yet. I sneak a glance at Cole. He stands tall, his right hand lifted in a line against his forehead. I bring my hand up in a swift snap.
Admiral Eames enters the hangar. She looks just like she does on the webs. She’s tiny, probably only a few inches taller than Addy, and she has thick brown hair she wears twisted up beneath her cap. She was the best FTL pilot in the regimen, the youngest officer in the senior ranks. And, of course, the first and only admiral of Earth Force.
As she walks our line, her gaze lights on each face. I will myself not to turn away when her eyes settle on me.
“At ease,” she says when she reaches the podium.
We drop our hands to our sides but still stand straight. It’s hard to be at ease in front of the admiral.
“This is a momentous da
y. A day thirteen years in the making.” She takes a deep breath and scans the crowd. “Welcome, Bounders. You’ve heard your whole life you are the future of Earth Force. Let me tell you again. You are the future of Earth Force. And the future starts now.”
Lucy bumps me with her hip. When I glance at her, she beams. This is it. I’m about to be inducted into Earth Force. I squeeze my hands into fists and take a deep breath. Next to me, Cole bounces on his toes. I’m right there with him. So much adrenaline pumps through my body, I think I might burst.
“Fifteen years ago,” the admiral continues, “I was privileged to be part of the diplomatic mission to P37. That day heralded a new era for Earth Force, an era we share with our friends.”
Admiral Eames led the diplomatic envoy to Planet 37, the Tunneler planet, when she was still a junior officer. She wasn’t only a skilled pilot; she was an excellent negotiator. She brokered a deal between Earth and P37 that paid off for both planets.
The admiral scans the line of officers and nods each time her gaze touches a Tunneler in the exchange program. When her eyes graze over the Tunneler from the air rail, he swings up his hairy hand in salute.
The admiral lowers her voice. “Sadly, that era was quickly shadowed by the tragic Incident at Bounding Base 51. While those who gave their lives in service of their planet are on our minds today, we think of them in glory and tribute.”
The admiral bows her head, our cue to do the same. The Incident at Bounding Base 51 happened the year before I was born. A famous quantum ship failed to materialize during a routine bound. The entire crew was lost. All those aeronauts—gone—their atoms adrift somewhere in the cosmos, never to reassemble.
After the Incident, Eames was appointed admiral, and Earth’s space agencies and military were all brought under the Earth Force umbrella. Within a year Earth Force started screening for Bounder genes. Positive couples like my parents had to have their babies premade in a petri dish to make sure their recessive genes danced in the right way to produce a Bounder baby.
Somehow the Incident at Bounding Base 51 and the Bounder Baby Breeding Program were connected. Somehow we—the Bounders—are the insurance policy that such a tragedy never happens again.
“For today we take our era of advancement to the next level.”
Oh no, not again. The admiral kept on talking, and I completely spaced out. Focus, Jasper.
“For you,” she continues, “you, Bounders, are the future of our space program. We’ve been waiting for you. We are honored to serve with you. With your aptitude for quantum space travel, there is no limit to where we will go in the universe.”
The lump in my throat is back. The oath is next. In seconds we’ll be officers in Earth Force. I wish Addy were with me. I wish we could take the oath together.
Admiral Eames lifts her right arm, palm forward. “Please raise your hand and repeat after me.”
Line by line, as she states the oath, we repeat it back:
I promise to protect and defend Earth,
to be faithful to our planet,
to obey the orders of the Admiral,
and to serve at all times with honor in Earth Force.
As we speak the last words, Admiral Eames spreads her arms wide.
“Congratulations, Bounders. We welcome you as fellow officers of Earth Force and our very first class of cadets at the EarthBound Academy. May the torch of quantum space travel, so gracefully carried by our strong ranks of aeronauts, soon pass to you and ascend to a level of which we have only dared to dream.”
The hangar erupts in applause. I clap, too, but I’m kind of stunned. I can’t believe it. I’m an Earth Force officer. Lucy tosses her arms around me. A little dramatic, but it helps bring me back to the moment. The clapping continues, and the hangar echoes with the thunderous sound. I cringe. A couple of the cadets cover their ears. Yeah, we’re pumped, but can we cut the noise?
The admiral gestures to Florine to take the podium. Something silently passes between the two of them. Even though Florine stands a head taller than Admiral Eames, she seems to shrink in size. She bows her head and removes her sunglasses. The admiral nods and steps aside, flanked by Ridders and another officer.
“Congratulations,” Florine says, flashing her white teeth. She looks strange without the sunglasses. Her face is kind of droopy. “Enjoy the moment, because it won’t last. No more thinking you’re special. That’s in the past. You are cadets—the lowest on the totem pole, even lower than the plebes. Our quantum aeronauts are the heroes here—not you, Bounders. Don’t forget that.”
Geez. I guess boosting Bounder morale is not part of the job description for the Director of Bounder Affairs.
“It’s past midnight back on Earth,” Florine continues. “The flight crew is getting your luggage off the craft. We’ll show you to the dormitories, and tomorrow . . .”
Florine keeps glancing to the right. She’s distracted. I follow her gaze. Most of us do. One of the Bounders has left the line. She is gliding toward a gun station. A long blond braid swings behind her. Mira.
“Ex-cuuuse me,” Florine says, directing her words to Mira. “You cannot go over there. That space is off-limits. Mira, stop!”
The girl responds to her name, but not in the normal way. She turns slowly, and a serene smile creeps across her face. She doesn’t react at all to being called out. It’s like she has no clue what she’s doing is wrong or strange.
By then two officers have left their positions and approached Mira. When they touch her, she falls to the floor and curls into a ball. A man in civilian clothes darts across the hangar in long fluid strides. He is tall and kind of old, maybe my parents’ age, with dark hair and thick stubble on his cheeks. He waves off the officers and kneels on the floor next to Mira. He whispers something too quiet to hear. Then he stretches out his hand. A long moment passes. Mira lifts her head and her eyes dart around the hangar. Then as quickly as the drama came on, she settles. She takes the man’s hand and lets him walk her back to the line. He doesn’t leave Mira’s side for the rest of Florine’s talk. He grips her firmly on her shoulder, holding her in place, holding her together.
Florine leads the girls to their dormitory. Lucy waves before dashing to the front of her group to talk with Florine. Lieutenant Ridders rounds us up for the trek to the boys’ dorm. We leave the hanger and start down the hall. Everything is decorated in the dull sameness: gray-green paint, florescent lighting, chrome trim. The lights make my head hurt. The ceiling is low, and the halls are narrow. And everything smells funny. Like a nasty combination of lemon cleanser and day-old hot dogs.
Cole and I are stuck in the back of the line again, which is fine by me. I feel dizzy, queasy, and claustrophobic.
“You guys got it all figured out, huh?” comes a voice from behind.
I turn. It’s Marco. He must have hung back on purpose.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Cole asks.
“Nothing, Wiki, just making conversation.”
“My name is Cole.”
“Yeah, yeah. But Wiki suits you. You’re like a walking fact machine.”
“How would you know?
“I heard you on the craft. Dude, take it as a compliment.”
“My name is Cole.”
“Got it.” Marco rolls his eyes at me. I’m kind of with him. Cole is acting lame. But I’ve already picked sides. I’m stuck with Cole. And I doubt Cole would appreciate my joining in a little friendly ribbing.
Up ahead, the other boys stop. Good. Maybe we can shake Marco.
Lieutenant Ridders stands in front of a clear enclosure about three meters square. One side has a long metal trough. The other has a huge vent hanging from the ceiling, and a metal grated floor. Between the two sides, computer panels are mounted to the wall. The top screen flickers with red and green lights. It’s a blueprint of the space station.
Cole has a huge smile on his face. He knows what’s up. I wish I did.
“Cadets,” Ridders says. “This is the prim
ary way we get around here. Some of you may know about the suction chutes—”
A loud buzz interrupts Ridders, and a green light blinks above the metal trough.
“Incoming,” Ridders says. “Perfect timing.”
Just then another officer shoots out of the wall and slams into the trough. When she looks up, she freezes, clearly surprised she arrived to an audience. Ridders stands at attention, his hand raised in salute. Around me, hands fly to foreheads. I jump to attention. We haven’t gotten the protocol thing down yet, but we’re working on it.
She hoists herself out of the trough, brushes off her uniform, and steps out of the cube. “At ease,” she says.
Whoa. Is that . . . ?
The freckly kid from the craft sidles up next to Cole. “She’s one of the aeronauts, right?”
Cole nods. “Malaina Suarez.”
“Boys, this is Captain Suarez,” Ridders says. “I’m giving them a tutorial on the chutes,” he explains to her.
She nods and heads down the corridor, calling over her shoulder, “You’re in for a wild ride!”
I can’t believe it. Malaina Suarez stood right there, three meters in front of me. And she actually spoke to us! She looks exactly the same as she does on EFAN. I watch her hurry down the hallway and disappear around a corner.
“Even the aeronauts use these to get around,” Ridders says.
I stopped paying attention and missed what Ridders said. Get with it, Jasper. Focus!
“In house, we call these chutes and ladders after the kids’ game,” Ridders continues. “It’s how we travel from structure to structure. Once you activate the suction chute, the vent will open, and you’ll be sucked up by the vacuum. The chute pulls you out of this structure, through open space, and into another structure. You’ll end up in a trough like that one at the other end. You get numb to it after a while, but the first few rides are quite a rush.”
Sucked into open space? You’ve got to be kidding. My stomach takes a few flip turns. I study the blueprint of the space station—dozens of freestanding structures connected by a web of shiny metal tubes. I had no idea those tubes were used for transport. Some of them are pretty long. And windy. And scary, like the world’s most intense water slide without the water.