Bounders Page 8

  “That’s it for the meet and greet,” Waters says. “We have daily pod sessions, and after we cover the basics, we’ll start the bounding protocol in a week or so. And now I’ll let the Gadget Guru distribute the tablets.”

  As Gedney digs through a crate in the corner of the pod room, my glance slips from one of my pod mates to the next. Marco with his fiery and impulsive personality. Lucy, friendly but never shuts up. Cole . . . What did Marco call him? Ahhh, yes. Wiki. The Fact Man. And then there’s Mira. Mysterious Mira twirling on the tarmac to music only she can hear. What do they think of me? Me and my clarinet. At least I’ve managed to keep my klutzy ways out of the equation.

  Gedney hands each of us a tablet. It doesn’t look much different from the one I have back on Earth. The upside: it has a cool Earth Force insignia stamped on the back. The downside: I’m sure it has almost no connectivity. Media silence. No contact with parents, friends, anyone from the outside for six weeks. I bet the chance of our playing Evolution is zero.

  “You’re still with us, right, Jasper?” Waters asks. He stands by the door and waves his arm, shooing us out.

  Heat floods my cheeks as I nod. I zoned out again? Geez, I have to work on the focus thing.

  Everyone else is already on their feet. Well, everyone except Mira. When it’s just the three of us left, Waters crosses to Mira’s beanbag and takes her hand. He pulls her up and walks her to the door, his hand pressed firmly against her back.

  When we reach the door, a silver button on Waters’s lapel beeps. “That’s my com pin reminding me of the very important briefing that was scheduled this morning and which I promptly forgot about.” He removes Mira’s delicate fingers from his own and places them in my palm. “Walk with Mira to the lecture hall. Okay, Jasper?”

  “Yes, Mr. Waters.” I don’t think I have a choice, but it’s weird. Holding hands? I don’t even like holding Mom’s hand. Mira’s fingers are long and bony and cold.

  We step into the hall packed with cadets from other pods. The bright glow of the florescent lights bears down on us, and the steady hum is like a bee buzzing in my brain. My nerves swim up from my belly and tickle the back of my throat, making it hard to breathe.

  Mira’s hand, which a second before lay limp in my grasp, deftly laces with mine and squeezes, jolting me with grounding pressure. My strength doubles, like somehow I’m tapping into her reserves.

  I turn to her, but she stares off to the side, a foggy film across her eyes.

  As we set off down the hall, I tighten my grip on her hand. Hi, Mira. It’s nice to meet you.

  The lecture hall buzzes with kids. A podium stands on an elevated platform at the front of the room. Rows of long, crescent-shaped tables stretch across the floor, which slopes down to the platform. Cadets gather in clusters, their Academy tablets spread on top of the tables claiming their spaces. As I scan the room for Cole, Mira slips off to a corner. I almost go after her, but Waters only asked me to escort her to the lecture hall. Check.

  Two strong arms grab me from behind and pin me in a headlock.

  “Get off of me!”

  The arms release, and I spin around.

  Marco steps back, hands up. “Whoa, Chief. Chill. Just having some fun.”

  I look down at my feet and think about Ryan and the stolen shoe on the passenger craft. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t funny.”

  “Okay, whatever. Let’s grab some seats. Unless you’d rather sit with your girlfriend.” Marco tips his head in Mira’s direction.

  “Yeah, right.” That’s all I need. The whole Academy thinking I’m paired up with Mira. I mean, I think she’s okay, but that’s it.

  Marco starts down the aisle, and I follow. We join a group of the back bunkers and toss our tablets onto their table. I still can’t spot Cole in the mass of kids.

  “Hey, Marco,” Lucy’s voice calls from the row behind us.

  Marco and I both turn around.

  The girl next to Lucy dives under the table. Lucy rolls her eyes and points at her. “Meggi wanted to meet you.”

  “And you’re her spokesperson?” Marco asks.

  Lucy grins. “Something like that.” She pulls Meggi up by the shoulders. The girl’s face is almost purple. Hi, she mouths, but no sound comes out.

  “Don’t mind her,” the girl on the other side of Lucy says. She has clear blue eyes and strawberry-blond hair. “She’s afraid of boys.”

  “Who are you?” Marco asks.

  “Annette,” she says. She twists her neck so her eyes lock with mine. “You’re Jasper, right?” She has a funny way of talking. Toneless.

  “Uh . . . hi,” I say. I feel the color creeping into my cheeks, too, so I flip back around in my seat.

  Behind me, the girls erupt in giggles. Great. I’m a complete loser.

  Maximilian Sheek passes our row, heading for the podium. So that’s why they laughed. I almost wish they’d been laughing at me. A few targeted girl giggles would be better than sitting through a whole lecture with Sheek.

  “Thank you,” Sheek says as the cadets clap. “Thank you. You’re too nice. Thank you. Really now—quiet down.” The claps fade as Sheek waves his hands in an oh-too-obvious attempt at modesty. “Thank you again. I’m thrilled to be teaching at the EarthBound Academy. After all, you Bounders are the future of quantum entanglement space travel. Admiral Eames asked me to join you this morning for your first lecture, to give you an overview of the history of the Earth space program. For most of you, this will be a refresher, but it’s a good place to start.”

  Sheek talks and smooths his hair and talks some more. I try to pay attention, but I fade in and out. He’s right: most of what he says I already know. The early space program—reaching the moon and Mars. Then the discovery of the Higgs boson that led to propulsion advancement to FTL, faster than light speed. Finally the discovery of the element occludium, the missing link for quantum entanglement space travel. In other words—drum roll please—bounding. That’s when our exploration of the universe really took off. With the speed of bounding, humans have managed to chart and investigate hundreds of star systems. We’ve also explored dozens of planets, like the Tunneler planet, containing much-needed ore and other natural resources.

  Marco passes me his tablet under the table. He’d typed a message: Do you think he’ll talk about you-know-who?

  The alien in the med room? I shrug. I hope he will, but my guess is the alien is under wraps, off limits, super security-clearance only.

  I tune in when Sheek talks about first contact and the treaty with the Tunnelers. I think maybe he’ll give us the real scoop on what happened during the diplomatic envoy—did it really go down without any blood or combat?—but he just sticks to the published history. And next on the agenda is the Incident at Bounding Base 51. He glosses over it. Just the basics: failed mission, quantum ship never materialized, aeronauts’ atoms lost somewhere in the cosmos. I guess he doesn’t want to make us too nervous, since the whole reason we’re here is to learn to bound.

  That’s it. No mention of the alien in the med room.

  As Sheek wraps up, Florine Statton waltzes down the row. The lights in the hall cast a glare off her white teeth.

  “Wow! What an introduction to the EarthBound Academy!” she says once she reaches the podium, sounding suspiciously enthusiastic. She grabs Sheek’s right bicep with both hands.

  “Why, thank you, Miss Statton.” Sheek smiles at Florine and winks at the class.

  Marco passes me his tablet under the table again. Someone sent him a Photoshopped GIF of Sheek and Florine in silver aeronaut suits, kissing on the bounding deck.

  I cover my mouth to keep from laughing.

  There’s silence in the lecture hall. Florine stares at Sheek. Sheek stares at Florine. Then at us. Then at Florine again. Meanwhile, Florine seems totally love struck. Someone, say something please!

  Sheek gestures at the podium.

  “Oh yes, silly me,” Florine says. She angles over the microphone without letting go of She
ek.

  “I have details about the pod competition.” Her voice is back to its normal boredom level. “Each week the pods will be ranked based on their combined scores. Scores will be based on three criteria: quizzes, relay races, and bounding percentages. The first rankings will be posted at the end of week two. Bounding will count double, but we won’t begin the bounding protocol until the end of week three, when the first assessment is made. There will be a prize for the top-ranked pod. We’ll announce more information soon.”

  Florine still clutches Sheek’s arm. He tries to be discreet, but we all see him struggling to get free from her grip while she talks. It’s so funny, I can hardly hear Florine over all the muffled giggles. When she finally stops talking, she drags Sheek up the aisle and out of the lecture hall.

  We wait for someone to come and dismiss us. Eventually, when no one shows, we grab our tablets and head for the aisle.

  I finally spot Cole. Front row—I should have known. He chats excitedly with Ryan and a couple of cadets I recognize from the dorm. He probably knows what the prize is for the first-place pod. Yet another reason to stick with Cole. He catches my eye as he walks out of the lecture hall. He doesn’t look too happy about my seating choice.

  As the cadets start out the doors, I search the room for Mira. The area where she’d been sitting is empty.

  Dinner is worse than breakfast. I thought I was digging into a huge plate of buttered noodles. Nope. Tofu strings. And no butter, either. The tofu strings are just slimy. Six weeks of this stuff? Yuck. I’ll go home a lot skinnier than when I left.

  Ryan and Cole don’t seem to mind.

  “How can you eat that?” I ask.

  Ryan shrugs. “It’s good.” I get a great view of the half-chewed strings in his mouth.

  “Me?” Cole says. “I knew what to expect. I’d read all about the space station food, so I didn’t have high hopes. It might improve. We’ll learn about the garden initiatives in Subsistence class with Captain Suarez.”

  I push my tray toward Ryan, who gladly off-loads my tofu strings, then I shove away from the table. “I’m going to see if they have any more carob-coated fruit balls.”

  When I turn the corner for the cafeteria line, I nearly collide with Regis. He has a huge bucket in his hand. Two guys from his pod, Randall and Hakim, are with him. They each carry a bucket. And Marco is there, too, empty-handed.

  “What are you guys doing?” I glance into the buckets. They’re filled with the slimy tofu strings.

  “Having a little fun,” Regis says. “You in?”

  I have a bad feeling in my gut, but I fall in behind Marco as Regis leads us out of the mess hall.

  Regis sends Randall ahead to scout as we make our way to the nearest chute cube.

  “Okay,” Regis says. “What’s the time?”

  “Almost eighteen hundred hours,” Hakim says. “She’ll be here in two minutes.”

  “Good,” Regis says. “Perfect timing. Load it up.”

  Regis, Randall, and Hakim dump their buckets of tofu strings into the chute’s arrival trough.

  “Whoa,” I say. “What are you doing?”

  “Setting up a little welcome party for Meggi,” Regis says.

  Meggi? Lucy’s friend? The one who dove under the desk?

  Randall laughs. “We used Marco here as bait. Told her he wanted to meet her at the chute cube at eighteen hundred sharp.”

  For real? I look at Marco. He grins.

  Oh, that’s mean. Really mean. Really slimy and mean.

  But I must admit, it’s really funny.

  The red light flashes in the chute cube. Incoming.

  “Quick!” Regis yells. “Everybody out! We’ll hide around the corner.”

  We dash away from the cube and down the hall. We peer around the corner at the arrival trough. Bam! Someone slams into the chute and is instantly drowning in tofu strings.

  We burst out laughing. I hold my stomach with one hand and bite down on the other to keep from making too much racket. More noise wouldn’t have mattered much, though. The shrieks coming from the chute cube would have drowned out almost anything.

  The girl in the arrival trough is struggling to climb out, tofu strings clinging to her hair, covering her clothes. Wait a minute. . . .

  She isn’t wearing the indigo uniform.

  Are those . . . ? Sunglasses . . . ?

  “Oh no,” Hakim says.

  “That’s . . . ,” Randall says.

  “Florine Statton!” Marco says.

  “Run, run! Go! Go! Go!” Regis yells.

  We tail after him down the hall as fast as we can. Of course, it’s really not that fast, because we’re practically choking with laughter.

  When we finally reach the boys’ dorm, Regis climbs up on the table and entertains the room with the story of our prank. I laugh along and throw in a choice nugget about how the tofu strings in Florine’s hair looked just like slithering snakes. A modern Medusa.

  Instant legend.

  8

  THE FIRST FEW DAYS FLY BY. The food hasn’t gotten any better, but I’m getting used to life at the space station. We spend mornings in pod session, and afternoons in lecture. Even Waters, Gedney, and the tricked-out pod room are growing on me.

  Of course, all that could change drastically. We’re scheduled to start specialist classes this afternoon. I’m not worried about Subsistence and Technology, but Mobility makes my stomach twist. As far as I can tell, it sounds like glorified gym class. And let’s just say gym isn’t my thing. Plus, it’s taught by Bad Breath.

  “Jasper.” Waters looks down at me in the cobalt beanbag. “This is important information. Please stay with us.”

  Pay attention. Right. I have to work on that.

  “As I was saying,” Waters continues as he walks a labyrinth around the beanbags, “you all know the basics of quantum entanglement space travel—bounding, that is—and if you don’t, I’m sure they’ll cover it in agonizing detail in your lectures.” Gedney laughs and Waters smiles. Some private joke, I guess. I stretch out on my beanbag and watch the stars twinkle on the ceiling.

  “Let’s quickly review,” Waters says. “We’re able to move within space almost instantaneously by bounding. We have a base here at the space station, and we have a base at the destination. The atoms here—we’ll call it home base—have a corresponding set of atoms waiting in the quantum field at the destination base—everything from the quantum ship to the equipment to the aeronauts themselves. Once the bound is initiated, the destination base atoms receive all the information from the home base atoms, and the home base atoms are left in stasis . . . empty, if you will . . . in the quantum field. That’s the wavy space you see at the launch site. Does anyone know how the quantum fields are created?”

  Cole’s arm shoots into the air. “An inventory of every required atom is taken, starting with the ship. The quantum field is filled with the receiving atoms. Without being too technical, the bounding atoms are mapped into their receiving atoms via the space station’s computers, and then the destination base is ready to receive the bound.”

  “Good,” Waters says. “You’ve done your homework, Cole. Impressive. What could go wrong? Jasper this time.”

  Bounding Base 51. The Incident. That’s where Waters is going. “If the mapping is messed up,” I say, “the bound fails.”

  “And what exactly does that mean?” Waters asks. I guess he isn’t going to gloss over it like Sheek did during lecture.

  I’ve watched web runs of the Incident at Bounding Base 51 hundreds of times. Everyone has. It’s part of Earth’s collective memory. The reason the Force reintroduced the Bounder genes as insurance it would “never happen again.”

  I clear my throat before answering. “The quantum ship wouldn’t materialize at the destination base. The ship, the aeronauts, everything would be lost.” My voice fades at the end. The sheer gravity of it hits too close. A failed bound. That could be my fate. The EarthBound Academy isn’t all fun and games. The stakes
are real. And they’re high.

  “Everything would be lost,” Waters repeats. He settles onto his beanbag and rests his hands on his knees. “I know that’s scary. This is difficult, risky work. You knew that coming in, but I know it’s hard when you’re staring right at it.”

  “What exactly happens to the atoms when they’re not received?” Lucy asks. “Where do they go?”

  Waters leans forward, tightening our circle of beanbags. “Lucy, that is one of the great mysteries. No one really knows.”

  “You mean they’re just lost in space?” she asks.

  Waters nods. He looks at Gedney before continuing. “Maybe this is a childlike notion, but I hope someday we’ll solve that riddle and bring those aeronauts home.”

  A heavy silence fills the pod room. We talked about the Incident a lot growing up. Mom and Dad wanted to demystify all the lore around it, since Addy and I are Bounders. My parents were on their honeymoon when the Incident at Bounding Base 51 occurred. They watched the bounding mission on the webs. Everyone did. The quantum technology was still so new and awe-inspiring. One second the ship was there, the smiling aeronauts waving good-bye, the next second it was gone. Just that. Gone.

  A lot of things happened the year after the Incident. All of Earth’s space programs and militaries merged to create Earth Force. Admiral Eames stepped to the helm. A few months later Earth Force announced the Bounder Baby Breeding Program. All male-female couples were tested for the Bounder genes. A positive test meant physician-assisted procreation to guarantee a Bounder baby. The government always said it was optional, but from what I’ve overheard from my parents, that wasn’t really true.

  As I sink deeper into my beanbag, I can hear Mom’s voice swell:

  Mom: I don’t get it. What on earth are a bunch of kids going to do?

  Dad: We’ve been through this. Their minds are better suited to perform the bounding calculations.

  Mom: Better than computers? Come on. None of it makes sense. You know there’s something they’re not telling us.