Galactic Battle (5 page)

John could see that Monix and Kaal were actually doing pretty well. The floating oblong was able to zip and weave in the air, dodging out of the way of Kaal's swipes, while Kaal seemed cool and confident, blocking Monix's sudden lunges.

“At least some of us know what we're doing,” Tarope grumbled.

At first John thought Tarope was just admiring their skill, but then he began to wonder. Was Tarope making fun of him?

The thought made him feel miserable.
I'm in way over my head. Monix would have made a much better leader than me.

From the way Tarope and the others were watching Monix perform, he guessed they were thinking the same thing.

The bell sounded for lunch, and not a moment too soon. John felt ready to collapse.

“All right, everyone. We'll break for lunch in the Center, then the team sheet says we have to go and meet Master Tronic in the Belly.”

“I've never been down to the Belly,” Dyfi said, sounding worried. “Is it as scary as everyone says?”

John had no idea, but he didn't want to say so. “Let's sort out our own bellies before we worry about that.”

It was a lame joke, but Kritta giggled anyway. As soon as Kaal noticed, he joined in, too.

John felt a little better after that. It made him glad to know his friend was trying to cheer him up.

He still felt so tired he could barely face the walk. A whole morning of trying to improve the team's weaponry skills had really taken it out of him. They had practiced for hours and hours, with John urging them to change partners, try techniques suggested by the team sheet, and rehearse a few flashy moves that John thought would impress the parents.

It wouldn't be so bad if I were any good with the LaserPros myself,
John thought glumly.
Kaal and Monix are much better than me. But it's my job to make sure we all put on a good performance. What was it Lorem said? “Every student gets to shine in the Space Spectacular.” But how can they shine if I don't get them to shape up?

“Galactic standard credit for your thoughts?” Kritta said, falling into step beside John and Kaal. Tarope, Monix, and Dyfi lagged behind, talking among themselves.

“Right now, I'm hoping Zepp's arranged something I can actually eat,” John said. “He tries his best, but he's still not an expert at making Earth food yet.”

Lately, Zepp, Hyperspace High's computer system, had been experimenting with desserts. John had really looked forward to the “apple turnover,” but to his disappointment had found an upside-down apple on his plate.

Even worse, he'd nearly broken his teeth on the Mars bar made from a piece of rock from the planet Mars. Sometimes Zepp could be way too literal.

Kritta chatted all the way to the Center, asking John all about his Robot Warriors victory. It was weird talking to someone who had such huge, inhuman eyes and who clicked and buzzed between words, but she was very friendly.

Her odd looks didn't seem to bother Kaal; the huge Derrilian was listening to her intently.
He's probably hoping she'll mention his own victory in Robot Warriors,
John thought. He and Kaal had been the first-ever joint winners, after all.

“Kritta?” Kaal said, as they entered the Center. “Do you . . . uh . . . want to find a table?”

“Sure!” she said. “How about that one? That looks big enough for all of us.”

“Oh, yes. All of us. That's what I meant.”

“Back in a sec, guys,” John told them. “I'm going to look around for Emmie.”

“Good idea,” Kaal said, and sat down next to Kritta.

John looked up and down the huge airy Center, which had already been returned to its usual look, trying to see Emmie's silver hair among the crowds.

She would have been with Mordant Talliver all morning, which meant plenty of chances for him to insult and bully her.

John had a troubling suspicion that he'd find her in tears. Maybe she was even hiding in her dorm.

But no — there she was, sitting on her own by the central lake, drinking something pink and foamy through a bendy straw, and looking perfectly fine! Even better than fine, John thought. He hurried over to join her.

“Hey!” she said happily. “How's it going? Having fun with Galactic Battle?”

“They made me team leader!”

“No way!” she said, laughing.

“I know. I was amazed, too.”

“That's awesome! You'll do great. I know you will.”

“Oh, it's early yet,” John said hesitantly. “We're a bit rough around the edges. Well, okay, we're very rough. At least we haven't had to call in the Meteor Medics . . . not so far, anyway.”

Emmie shuddered. “Don't talk about the Meteor Medics. I'm trying not to think about ending up in the medical wing.”

“I thought zero-G acrobatics was safe?”

“It's supposed to be. But check this out. For our Space Spectacular performance, they're projecting a ZeBub on the stage. You know what that is, right?”

“A zero-gravity bubble?” John guessed.

“Exactly! And we all get to fling each other around inside it, doing flips and somersaults and midair spins and cool stuff like that. Which is fine . . . so long as your partner doesn't throw you out of the ZeBub. You know, by accident.” She gave John a significant look.

John put two and two together. “Your partner wouldn't happen to be Mordant Talliver, would it?”

“He's our team leader,” she said, sighing. “So he got to choose.” She slurped her drink noisily. “I volunteered as leader, too, but Mordant dropped some nasty hints about ‘accidents' that might happen if he wasn't chosen. Nobody wanted to take the risk. Zero-G acrobatics is dangerous enough!”

John's flesh was crawling at the thought of Emmie's life in Mordant Talliver's hands. “Accidents,” Mordant had said. John knew all too well what that could mean.

“How's he been with you lately?” John asked. “Is he still acting, you know, weird?”

“That's the part I don't understand!” Emmie whispered. “He's being so nice!”

John was about to tell her not to trust Mordant, especially if he was acting nice, but he never got the chance. Suddenly Mordant himself was at the table, appearing silently from out of the crowds. G-Vez bobbed along behind him, the obedient servant as always.

“Sorry to butt in,” Mordant said with a grin. “Emmie, we need to go. Afternoon practice starts in five minutes, remember? I said only twenty minutes for lunch.”

“Oh, no,” Emmie said, standing up. “I can't believe it. I lost track of time!”

Mordant patted her arm, which made John's blood pressure skyrocket. He said to her in a smooth voice, “Don't sweat it. I know I'm pushing the team hard. I just want us to wow every single person who comes to watch.”

“You're not angry?”

“Of course not. We're on the same team. I've got your back.”

“Thanks, Mordant,” Emmie said, sounding wary that Mordant's behavior was too good to be true.

John wanted to ask the half-Gargon where the real Mordant Talliver had gone. Was he tied up in his dorm? Was this some shape-shifting alien that had taken his place?

Mordant turned to go.

Emmie rushed off behind him, calling back over her shoulder. “John? I'll see you and Kaal for dinner later on, yeah?”

“Sure. Later, Emmie.”

What Emmie had told John had begun to eat away at him. Emmie's life in Mordant's hands? John already knew he wouldn't be able to sleep at night thinking about it.

There were so many different ways Mordant could hurt her in zero-G acrobatics, and Emmie was right — it would be easy to make it look like an accident, even with everyone watching. John clenched his fist, thinking of what he'd do if Mordant hurt his friend.

But physical injury wasn't really Mordant's style. And anyway, he'd had plenty of chances to hurt Emmie already but hadn't. Mordant could usually be counted on to make some snarky comment or other, teasing her for being slow in class. But by the sound of it, he'd been polite. Better than polite. He'd been nice.

“Stop stressing,” John said to himself. “He's just buttering her up because he's team leader and he wants everyone's support, that's all. You don't have anything to worry about.”

John made his way back to where Kaal and Kritta were sitting. Tarope, Monix, and Dyfi had joined them, and they were all eating Blargon burgers with Pepperdust fries. The Blargon burgers quivered like rubber, and they squeaked like dog toys when you bit into them.

Kritta was in the middle of gossiping with Dyfi when John arrived. “Can you believe it? That claw-varnish cost Shazilda tons of credit —” She broke off when she spotted John. “Hi, John, I saved you a chair!” she said. Then she turned back to Dyfi. “And Ms. Skrinel just confiscated it in front of everyone! I know it glows pretty bright and Shaz shouldn't have been putting it on in class, but seriously, how harsh is that?”

“Totally,” Dyfi said. “Hey, Kaal, are you going to eat that?”

“Hmm?” said Kaal dreamily. His Blargon burger lay untouched in front of him, and only a few of his Pepperdust fries had been eaten. He was staring at Kritta as if she'd hypnotized him.

What was going on?

It dawned on John that Derrilians ate insects. This could be bad. It would really mess things up if Kaal couldn't help seeing Kritta as a huge Sunday roast. He was sure the rules didn't allow one team member to eat another!

John quickly gobbled down some delicious potato skins with cheese and bacon.

He had to admit, Zepp had made his lunch perfectly this time. The cheese was melted just right, the butter was soft and golden, the bacon was extra crisp, and the actual potato was still there! In the past, Zepp had peeled the potato and sent John a plate with just the skin peelings on it.

“We'd better get going,” Monix said.

She sounds so sure of herself,
John thought,
anyone would think she is the leader.

Kaal left the table, carrying his barely touched lunch with him, and went to empty his tray into the auto-recycle machines. As soon as he was gone, Kritta leaned over the table and whispered to John, “I've got a confession to make. Don't be mad, okay?”

“Um . . . really?” was all John could think of to say.

“I'm a huge fan of yours,” Kritta clicked. “Like, really huge. Ever since Robot Warriors. I'm so glad we're on the same team! It means we can spend much more time together.”

Before she could say anything else, Kaal returned and they all headed out of the Center together. John's thoughts were in a whirl. He couldn't help feeling he was missing something obvious, something he'd kick himself over later. But right now, this felt like yet one more expectation to live up to.

Great. Kritta's a big fan, and now I get to be her team leader. No pressure there . . .

“How do we get to the Belly, anyway?” Dyfi asked, still sounding uncertain about the whole trip.

John activated Ton-3, who sprang up from the team sheet immediately. She was wearing a helmet with a light on it.

“To access the Belly, take service elevator sixty-eight down to level minus four,” she explained. “Then follow the corridor straight ahead until you reach the holding cell where the Defendroids are kept. You can't miss it!”

“Service elevator?” said Kritta. “Ew.”

John stopped outside a pair of gray, industrial-looking sliding doors. “Um. I think we're here, guys.”

“Are you sure that's not the waste compactor?” Monix asked.

John pressed the big yellow button beside the doors, and they hissed open to reveal a cramped metal interior. “It looks like an elevator to me.”

“Let's hope so,” Tarope said darkly. “Those would be terrible last words.”

“How are we all going to fit in there?” Monix complained. “Can't we go down separately, in two elevators, one after another?”

“No!” yelped Dyfi. “All together, or I'm not going! We don't know what's down there waiting for us in the Belly, and I've heard some nasty rumors.”

“Strength in numbers,” said Kritta. “She's got a point.”

“Okay,” John said. He sighed, sure that Dyfi was just getting worked up over nothing. “Let's do this.”

Getting everyone in took a lot of squeezing and shuffling. In the end, Kaal was wedged in a corner, Monix hovered by the ceiling, Dyfi cowered on the floor in the middle of everyone, Tarope was jammed against Kaal's left wing, and Kritta was pressed up so uncomfortably close to John that his chin was on top of her head.

He pressed the button for level minus four, and the lift trundled down into the darkness. Nobody spoke. The lights on the elevator panel steadily ticked down, reaching the main level, numbered zero — and then down even farther.

From somewhere below came a sudden metallic screech. Kritta gasped, and Dyfi made a frightened peeping noise.