Alex Armstrong: Awakening (13 page)

“No it’s not,” Alex said. “Why don’t you just add some color?”

Eva nodded and placed her knees on the stool and lifted herself so that she was looking right into the bin. A few green bricks arced out of the container and settled onto the wingtips and nose of her plane.

“So, a retarded crow that’s suffering from gangrene. Well done,” Patrick said.

“Yours is ugly, too!” Eva said. “It’s just a big box.”

“Maybe to your untrained eye,” Patrick said as he considered his work. “This thing’s gonna be a showstopper, though. Just sit back and have some patience. Never rush a master at work.”

Alex shook his head and put the finishing touches on his own creation: a Star Wars X-Wing Starfighter, a design he had perfected as a kid. It had the four lasers, the proper colors, and even a little circular bit on top. He couldn’t help but grin. It made him think back to all the times he watched the original trilogy with his dad.

“And…‌done!” Patrick said. He stepped away from the table and folded his arms across his chest and admired his work.

“Well, it is definitely a showstopper,” Alex said. Patrick had created a monstrosity. It looked like a toaster with wings, mismatched Lego bricks jutting out at random intervals along its walls. There were little Lego heads lining its wings and a dozen pirates standing on deck, all brandishing either a sword or a gun.

“You aren’t serious with that thing, are you? It’s huge,” Eva said.

Patrick laughed. “That’s what she said. And hell yes, I’m serious. My pirates are gonna cruise to victory.”

“Riding atop their winged shoebox,” Nate said.

“Says the guy holding a green piece of poo. What do you call that thing? The broccoli express?”

“Nah, man. My astronaut’s a paddle boarder. Check it out.” A little oar floated up from the table and into the figurine’s hand. It started paddling air and as it did the board flew around their heads. Nate had it swinging the oar like a mad man when suddenly its arm popped off.

“Oh! Looks like my boy needs to hit the gym.” Nate narrowed his eyes and the arm leapt off the table and clicked back into its socket. “Good as new. See? He’s still happy.”

“He’s cute,” Eva said.

“Yeah, he’s gonna make for a good trophy,” Patrick said. “His head’ll go riiight here.”

The lights flickered off and on and Professor Startsman’s nasally voice filled the lab. “Time’s up! Let’s move next door!”

****

“Hurry up, Patrick. You’ve lost half your guys already!”

“Just pawns. Expendable,” Patrick called, not bothering to turn around and find the speaker. He stood with his hands braced on the side of the cylinder. “Look at the ship. Not even a scratch.”

“He’s delusional,” Nate said.

“Oh, he’s not as dumb as he looks,” Alex said. “I think he knows this isn’t going to end well.”

Patrick took a few steps back and readied his hand, his jaw clenching. When the moment was right, he swatted the air and his ship zipped forward and—
CRACK
! It sounded like a lawnmower blade striking a rock. Little pirates were flung overboard and the yellow heads lining the wings bounced up and down the cylinder. What remained of Patrick’s ship was still stuck in the cutout, its final moments marked by the high-pitched squeal of plastic-on-plastic as the disk continued to spin.

“Shiver me timbers!” a voice called from the back.

There were cheers and laughter. Professor Startsman leaned forward so that his nose almost touched the cylinder and inspected the wreckage. He then twirled his finger and the Lego pirates floated up and out of the tube and into Patrick’s hands. “Souvenirs,” the professor said.

Nate’s Lego man aimlessly paddled and summersaulted up and down the row. Patrick brushed it aside as he returned to his seat.

“Easy there, Patrick. My little dude’s still recovering from his accident.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t make it out of the first damn tube,” Patrick said.

“You and most everybody else,” Nate said.

“Yeah, what was up with that?” Eva said. “I thought you were supposed to be some kind of Lego genius.”

“It wasn’t my ship’s fault. The cutouts in those disks were too small.”

“Uh huh. The cutouts,” Eva said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, nothing.”

“Go on. Say it. Let’s get the smartass comments out of the way early.”

“Well, all I was going to say is if we ever have this lab again, I’m willing to help you make your ship. You know, since I did make it further than you.” She smiled and patted him on the shoulder.

Patrick rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. That was just cause your ship was so tiny. Plus I think Startsman felt sorry for you and made the disks spin slower when it was your turn.”

“I still beat you.”

“Yeah, well, at least I have a memento,” he said, holding up his pirates. “Yours was so fragile there was nothing left to take home. And besides, if I got to go hiking and practicing with Alex as much as you do I’da won the thing.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? You jealous?” Nate said.

“Oh, please.”

“If you need more help, just ask me. That’s no problem,” Alex said.

“No, it’s not like that,” Patrick said. “I just—forget it. It’s nothing.”

“Mr. Armstrong!”

Alex looked away from Patrick. The professor smiled at him.

“Come on down,” Startsman said. “You’re everybody’s last hope.”

“Uh oh. The main event,” Nate said.

“Yeah, right,” Alex said. He got to his feet and straightened his shirt. “I just wanna get to the last cylinder like you.”

Eva brushed a piece of lint off Alex’s jeans and smiled as his face reddened. “You look nice,” she said. “Now go kick his butt.” They locked eyes.

“Oh, good Lord,” Patrick said. “Get your head in the game, man. Go!”

Alex nodded and made his way across the row and down the aisle, his X-Wing circling above like a bird of prey. The walls changed from the live stream to a view of outer space, complete with twinkling stars and the occasional comet. Alex didn’t notice. His mind was already on part one of this obstacle course: a fifteen-foot long plastic cylinder that was three feet in diameter and housed three spinning disks.

“Good morning,” Professor Startsman said.

“Morning, Professor.”

Startsman raised his palm and the cylinder lifted off the floor and hovered around chest-height. Its disks cranked into motion, the wedge-shaped cutouts no longer visible as they got to speed. Alex steered his ship down from the ceiling and edged its nose over the lip of the cylinder.

Startsman waited until the third disk was spinning like a buzz saw and turned to Alex. “Good luck. You can start whenever you’re rea—”

It was over. The X-Wing drifted lazily through the exit and Alex walked to the next obstacle.

Professor Startsman stood there with his head cocked sideways and his crow’s feet on full display. He finally nodded, to no one in particular, and then pulled up his pants and followed Alex.

“Hey, what just happened?” said a voice from the back.

“It teleported!” called another.

The professor stopped and turned to his class. “You will learn many wonderful things at this school. Sadly, teleportation is not one of them. What you just saw was speed. No tricks. Just speed.”

Part two of the obstacle course was a large glass box that looked as if it could have housed the jellyfish exhibit at an aquarium. Professor Startsman flicked his finger and the three dozen red rubber balls that laid lifeless at the bottom of the box took off in all directions, bouncing this way and that with enough speed to tear through any of the ships.

They moved faster than Alex remembered. He traced a line from the entrance on the bottom of the box to the exit on the opposite side at the top. It was a long way, and there was little chance he’d be able to keep on a straight line. Alex softened his vision so he could see all of the balls, searching for some kind of sequence that he could exploit. But there were just too many. He shook his head. He would have to take his chances. At least the physics looked predictable; the balls were banking off the glass with the same “angle in angle out” lines he visualized on a pool table.

And then it hit him. “Angle in angle out,” he said. Alex looked at Startsman and grinned. He nosed his X-Wing into the glass box and instantly the red rubber balls froze in place. His ship weaved through the inanimate asteroid field and emerged from the other end. As it spiraled up to the ceiling, the rubber balls fell to the bottom, bouncing away their energy. He walked to the final obstacle, careful to avoid eye contact.

Out of the confused whisperings of his classmates came one loud yell: “He cheated!”

“Cheated? Did I just hear someone yell cheated? Far from it,” Professor Startsman said. He joined Alex at the back of the room. “Mr. Armstrong realized I wasn’t controlling those balls and so he
took
control. Took control of every one of them. It’s called thinking outside the box, and if any of you ever hope to become Greyjeans, you better learn how to do it. God help you if you don’t,” he added under his breath.

Professor Startsman lifted the final cylinder for the second time today. It was triple the length of the first cylinder and contained twenty golf ball-sized metal spheres, each set at a different height and spaced from start to finish so they looked like depth charges waiting for some unsuspecting submarine. He looked at Alex’s X-Wing flying above. “What do you say we make this a little more…‌fitting?”

“Sir?”

Startsman’s tablet arced up and over the students and into his hand. He flipped open the cover and swiped through some screens. The wall monitors went blank. Another few swipes and taps and they flickered on again, this time showing the Trench Run from Star Wars. He closed the cover and tossed the tablet onto a nearby seat. “How’s that?”

“Smokin the donkey,” Alex said.

“Okay. Well then, may the Force be with you.”

Alex knew right away that his strategy from the last tube wouldn’t work. These spheres weren’t bouncing around on their own. Each was firmly within the professor’s grasp, and with his experience and power it would be pointless trying to wrest control away from him. He thought back to Nate’s brief venture into this tube and remembered that each of the spheres would only attack once the ship neared its vicinity.

Alex took a few calming breaths and looked back at the playing field with fresh eyes. He spied a path through the first half of the container. After that, he’d have to get creative. But the main problem was that last sphere, just hanging there gleaming in front of the exit. There was no way to avoid it. Would he be quick enough to dodge Startsman? Probably not. He was picturing his ship exploding into hundreds of Lego bricks when he had an idea. He looked at the professor. “I’m ready.”

“I know.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Alex saw Han Solo clear the way for Luke. He glanced up at his own X-Wing and smiled. “Time to use the Force,” he said. The Lego ship sped straight down from the ceiling and into the cylinder, hurtling past the first two spheres and banking sharply out of its nosedive before Startsman could react. Alex kept his ship flush against the plastic, sliding up and down the wall as he made his way toward the exit. He got through the first half without any sphere so much as twitching.

Alex narrowed his eyes. His ship dodged up and down and twisted right and left. He was nearing the exit when he was forced to barrel-roll between two converging spheres. They collided with a loud metallic
CLACK
and bounced into the plastic wall.

Alex brought his X-Wing to a stop directly below the exit cut into the top of the cylinder, nothing left but the last metal sphere. Startsman pulled it back a bit, as if he would plug the hole. Alex pointed the nose of his ship at the obstacle and looked across the cylinder. The professor was already staring at him. “Your move,” Startsman said.

It seemed that everyone had an idea that whatever was about to happen would happen quickly, and so they all scooted to the edge of their seats and leaned forward and didn’t breathe.

Alex trained his eyes on the metal ball, and when he was sure that he wasn’t going to blink, he sent his X-Wing rocketing upward in what looked like an ill-conceived game of chicken. As he neared the exit and that inevitable moment of truth, the ball oscillated. It was all the warning Alex needed, because at that first sign of motion, his ship burst apart into a hundred different pieces, the metal ball touching not a single brick as it shot forward with so much speed that it punctured the cylinder and plugged deep into the wall beyond. The Lego bricks instantly snapped together and the X-Wing was once again whole. It flew through the exit and up to the ceiling.

Alex pumped his fist. He realized it was out of character as soon as he did it, but he didn’t care. He laughed and pumped it again.

“Well played.”

Alex shook the professor’s hand. “Thanks. That was awesome.”

Startsman watched the Death Star explode on the right wall. “Yes, I really outdid myself on that one,” he said, smirking. “You know, I keep thinking you’re going to run out of tricks, but you continue to find ways to impress me. No wonder Chris has taken such a strong interest in your progress.”

“President Joyce?” Alex glanced at his friends running up the aisle, Eva in the lead.

“That’s the one.” Professor Startsman turned on the lights and changed the walls back to the live stream.

Alex didn’t know how to respond to that. Did he want to be on Joyce’s radar? Seemed like a lot of pressure.

“Something wrong?”

“No sir, just…‌thinking.”

“No doubt.” Professor Startsman reached up and Alex’s ship tracked into his hand. “Here. At the very least, you earned a trophy.”

Alex ran his finger across the wings.

“You’re welcome.” Startsman patted Alex on the shoulder and walked to the door. “Oh, and don’t think too much!”

14 - The Old White

14

The Old White

They turned east at the Student Center and made for the edge of campus. The sun was low on the horizon. There was a gust of wind and Eva tucked her chin inside her coat.