by Sheela Chari
“Mars is right,” Caddie said.
The four of them crossed the threshold into the room.
“Where are we?” Mars wondered. “I’ve never seen this place.”
One whole wall of the room was dedicated to computer screens and consoles that displayed various satellite images of Earth, Seattle, and the Port Elizabeth area, each view labeled underneath. There was a row of padded chairs and overhead monitors, and mechanical arms attached to a central station with tiny lights that flashed and beeped.
“It looks like we’re inside a control center,” Toothpick said. He stared at one of the screens. “Look, that’s a Doppler radar of the weather in Seattle. Droney, do you know what this room is used for?”
“Identity and function of this room has been designated confidential,” Droney reported. “Cannot confirm.”
“Don’t worry, kids,” Mr. Q said as the door closed behind them. “Someone will be here soon to answer your questions.”
When Mars was seven, it snowed on his birthday. As a baby in India, he’d never encountered snow, and when he and his mother moved to Port Elizabeth, it was rare for snow to fall in the Puget Sound area. Then on the morning of his seventh birthday, Mars looked out the window and saw his world covered in white, the soft snow covering streets and lawns, the tops of trees and roofs and cars. It snowed two inches that day, and the Seattle area came to a grinding halt. Cars skidded, schools closed, and Saira Patel stayed home from work, looking out from the living room curtains in exasperation and wonder over this white stuff that could cause such havoc. But it was Mars’s birthday, so they spent the day drinking hot chocolate and baking spicy samosas in the oven and opening Mars’s two presents. One was a children’s telescope from Saira, small enough that Mars could set it up himself. He had been begging for one. “I want to see the planets, Mamaji,” he told her. “I want to see the stars.” The other present had come by special delivery. The courier had trudged through the two inches of snow and handed the brown paper parcel to Mars. Excited, Mars tore apart the paper and held up the toy rocket in the air. “Mamaji!” he exclaimed. And Saira responded quietly, “It was not I who sent it.”
The rest of the day, Mars kept looking out the window, not at the snow, but who might walk across it and leave tracks on top of the wondrous snow. If it could snow on his birthday, then other miracles could happen, too. All day he waited, and Saira watched him until she could no longer bear it and said, “Come!” And they went outside, tromping in the snow, throwing snowballs, kicking up the white flakes with their sneakers (neither of them owned snow boots). They didn’t talk about the toy rocket or who had sent it. That night, Mars looked out the window at the darkened street, where the snow lay. “Good night, Papaji,” he whispered, and he went to bed with the toy rocket next to him, where it would continue to be every night from then on. The next day the snow had melted away.
For Mars, going with his friends into the windowless room of Hallway 2C was like the morning he’d woken up after his seventh birthday and found the snow gone. When he was seven, he had been certain his father would come walking across the snow. And when he’d reunited with his friends today at Pruitt Prep, he’d been so sure they would find Aurora and bring her home. And yet here they were, trapped in this odd room, no closer to finding the truth.
“Is everyone OK?” asked Caddie. “JP, stop blaming yourself. I can tell what you’re thinking, and you’re wrong: you could NOT take down an armored, hybridized tardigrade.”
“It was just a large spider, Caddie,” JP muttered. “I squash spiders in my house all the time.”
“I catch and release them into the wild,” Toothpick said. “It’s important to preserve biodiversity.”
“Listen, Muffin isn’t a spider; she’s a huge tardigrade, genetically crossbred with a wolf!” Caddie pointed out. “Look what happened to Jonas.”
“And that’s my fault,” Mars mumbled. “What if Jonas doesn’t get better?”
“He’ll be all right, Mars,” Caddie said gently. “I can feel it.” She watched him. She had felt his memories, the first snowfall, the toy rocket on his bed, and now the disappointment stirring in him. “Mars, it’s going to be OK.”
“I’m sorry, guys,” Mars said. “I — I don’t know what to do. I think they’ve got us.”
“We can still win,” Toothpick said.
“What are you talking about, Pick?” JP asked glumly. “If it’s not obvious, us being locked up in a room with a giant spider outside guarding us is what LOSING looks like.”
“You don’t understand,” Toothpick said. “When I reprogrammed Droney, I set him to record everything in Pruitt Prep: the missing kids, the tardigrade, what Mr. Q. said about the island. Everything. We’ve got him on all of it. And this room looks important, too. Droney has made a video recording of it. Now I can use a satellite link to send a composite video to Epica. She can broadcast it to the world. It can go viral, just like Mars’s video did.”
Around them the lights flickered, and the building shook violently again.
“Whoa,” JP said, bracing themself against one of the padded chairs.
An image shimmered before them. Even as a hologram, Oliver Pruitt cut an impressive figure. Gone were the Hawaiian shirt, lei, and bamboo hat he’d sported on the Gale Island ferry. This Oliver Pruitt was lean, powerful, his dark hair cropped short, and he was wearing a fitted white jumpsuit that outlined his tall, imposing body.
“I must warn you, Mr. Lee,” Oliver said, “if you go public like that, you will never see your friends again.”
Pruitt!” JP said. “Why am I not surprised?”
“It’s another hologram,” Caddie said. “And I can’t read holograms.” She watched as the hologram of Oliver strode across the floor. It was amazing how lifelike it looked. She could even see the flare of his nostrils and the small creases in his jumpsuit.
Droney clicked. “A hologram is a 3D recording of an image using a light field.”
“Thanks, Droney. We get it; we see him,” JP said. “The question is how do we get rid of him?”
“You like to make jokes, don’t you, JP?” Oliver’s voice sounded slightly amused. “But this is no joking matter. We have much work to do.”
“You know what, Oliver Pruitt?” Mars shouted. “Maybe we’re tired of all your games. There’s only one reason we’re here in your fancy school, and that’s to find Aurora. So if you’ll just —”
“Mars, Mars,” Oliver interrupted. “You’re working yourself up. You didn’t come here by accident. Nor did your friends. Do you want to know why I brought you extraordinary young people to my school? Even you, JP, the handful that you are?”
“Want to get another ‘handful’ while I unplug you again, Pruitt?” JP threatened. They looked around the room for the power source but couldn’t find it. Oliver was getting projected some other way.
Mars had had enough. “Where’s Aurora?” he demanded. “What do you want from us?”
“I can give you answers,” Oliver said. “But first, I need you each to make a choice of your own free will.”
This was unexpected. Everyone stopped to consider Oliver Pruitt’s words.
Meanwhile, the floor and walls began to shake.
“There it goes again,” said JP.
“Why does the building keep shaking so much?” asked Toothpick.
Oliver’s amused expression was gone. He was looking at them seriously. “That shaking you feel is our school wall retracting. Not only is our titanium wall twenty feet tall and as impregnable as Gibraltar, it’s fully retractable and undetectable once in the ground. Why am I telling you that? Because right now, you can all choose to leave Pruitt Prep. No one is stopping you. The doors will be open, the wall will be down, and the ferry will be waiting when you get to the shore. Is that correct, Mr. Q?”
Mr. Q, who was standing near the door, nodded. “That’s right, kids,” he said.
Oliver smiled, and when he did, Caddie was surprised by how his whole demeanor changed. He looke
d so kind! So safe and trustworthy, like someone who would hold your hand when you crossed the street. But Caddie knew Oliver was not someone she could trust.
“What’s the catch?” Mars asked.
“The catch is,” Oliver said, “you have to leave here without answers.”
“That’s not bad,” JP said.
“And without Jonas and Aurora.”
“Oh,” JP said. “That’s not so good.”
“And if we stay?” Mars asked.
“If you stay, then you will know everything. And I mean everything. You’ll know about my school, about the kids who build and create here, about the wondrous projects that will take us into the next century. But you will never go back home again.”
“Never?” Mars asked. “I don’t understand.”
“What about our parents?” Toothpick asked.
“They’ll be well taken care of,” Oliver said. “But you’re right: you won’t be with them.”
For a moment, everyone was quiet, letting the words sink in.
Toothpick started pacing. “But I can’t fall asleep if my mom and dad don’t tuck me in,” he said. Next to him, Droney clicked.
“JP?” Oliver asked next. “What’s your answer?”
JP was twisting the end of their scarf nervously. “My dad’s birthday is next month. He saved up for tickets for us to see the Seahawks play. And that’s only ’cause of me. He’d rather go to his classics conference or something, but then I kept bugging him and . . .” JP swallowed. “Couldn’t we put it off by a few weeks?”
“I’m afraid not, JP,” Oliver said. “Caddie? How about you? Are you ready to make the choice? I can’t read your mind, you know.”
Caddie looked at Mars. What was Mars feeling? Anguish at the idea of leaving his mom. Guilt because of Aurora. Of course he would feel that way, responsible for Aurora, who wasn’t even here. Is that what she had chosen? Never to come back?
“Do we at least get to say goodbye?” Caddie asked. “I mean, my parents aren’t easy to get along with, but they are my parents, you know.” By now her mom would have discovered Caddie’s empty room. What would her mom say? What would she do if she never saw Caddie again? Sure, she was ready to send her daughter off to boarding school, and Pruitt Prep was kind of a boarding school . . . but forever?
“Mr. Pruitt, why can’t our parents come visit us here?” Mars asked. “Why are you doing this? Why are you making us choose?”
“I can’t tell you why,” Oliver said softly. “Not until you’ve made the choice.”
He stood before them, shimmering, but it was undeniable in his face: he seemed to feel their sadness, too. Could it be possible that Oliver wasn’t so bad after all? Caddie considered the man’s wealth and fortune, his fame and ambition. Seemed like a lonely life, too. What was it that Oliver wanted? And what could he possibly want from them?
“Choose quickly, please,” Oliver urged. “We haven’t got much time.”
“I said I’d find Aurora wherever she is,” Mars said softly. “And a promise is a promise.”
Caddie stared at him. “But you didn’t promise her, Mars! You promised yourself — that’s not the same thing!”
“But that isn’t what Mars thinks, is it?” Oliver Pruitt asked. He turned to Mr. Q. “Oh yes, can we take care of that one last thing?”
Mr. Q walked over to them with a handset. “The connection’s ready,” he said to Oliver.
“Take the handset,” Oliver said to Mars. “Your mother is on the line.”
What was going on? Caddie and JP exchanged looks. Was Mars agreeing to Oliver’s terrible proposition? Caddie had to stop him. But Mars was already on the phone.
“Mars?” Saira Patel’s voice crackled across the line on speakerphone.
“Hello, Ma?” Mars said back.
“Is that you? Are you all right?” Her voice was filled with concern. “When you didn’t come back, I didn’t know what to think.”
Caddie, Toothpick, and JP tried to look like they weren’t listening in. Oliver stood waiting nearby, his face unreadable, but everyone could tell he was hearing every word, too.
Behind Oliver, Mr. Q was fiddling with one of the consoles that displayed a view of the school grounds. Caddie watched absently until she realized what she was seeing. The titanium walls were gone! Oliver was right. They had disappeared, leaving an open path to the woods.
And freedom, she thought.
“I’m sorry I ran away, Mamaji,” Mars was saying, his voice laden with guilt.
“I know, Mars. And I know why you’re there — I knew one day it would happen. It is meant to be because you’re special. That’s why Oliver chose you. He thought you were . . . special, too.”
“I guess so.” Mars was doubtful. Was he really that special?
Yes! Caddie wanted to shout across the room. She wanted to shout so many things. She wanted to stop this crazy decision! But Mars’s mom kept talking, her voice shaking in the windowless room.
“I always knew,” Saira said, “you have a great destiny. Remember that, no matter what you learn about anyone . . . including me. I’m proud of you, Mars.”
“I love you, Ma,” Mars said softly.
Caddie was feeling desperate. She couldn’t let Mars make this mistake. How could his mom let him stay here with Oliver Pruitt? Didn’t she understand that Mars was never coming home?
“I love you, too,” Saira said like she was holding back tears. “Remember the snow, beta. Always remember the snow. I’ll see you in the stars.”
“I’ll see you in the stars,” Mars whispered.
“Mars, wait . . .” Caddie started.
Saira Patel’s voice was abruptly cut off.
“Ma?” Mars said, then repeated her name but there was no response.
“I’m so sorry, Mars,” Oliver said. “We must have lost the connection. I know that was difficult for you.”
Mr. Q took the handset from Mars. “Who’s next?” he asked.
The rest of them looked back at him in dread.
“Mr. Q?” Mars said in a small voice. “I need to talk to you.”
The two of them walked away to a corner.
“What are they saying?” JP asked, straining to hear.
“I can’t hear them,” Toothpick said.
“Caddie, what’s going on? What are you getting?” JP asked.
Caddie was frowning in concentration. Then a moment later, she gasped. “Mars, no!”
“What, Caddie?” JP said. “What’s he saying?”
“Are you sure?” Mr. Q asked, walking Mars back to the group.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” Mars said. His face was resolute.
“Oliver?” Mr. Q asked him expectantly.
“What? What?” JP asked. “No one’s telling me anything.”
“He said to take him and make the rest of us leave,” burst Caddie. “Mars? You can’t. What about us?”
“OK, then,” Oliver said. “It’s a deal.”
“Mars?” JP said, stunned. “You made a deal . . . with these liars?”
The door opened and a swarm of White Suits spilled in, two for every kid.
“What’s going on?” JP cried. “Hey! Get your hands off me!”
“I’m sorry, guys,” Mars said.
“Mars, you can’t send us away,” Caddie pleaded.
“You’re sending us away?” JP yelled. “I hate you, Oliver Pruitt! You’re splitting us up.”
“JP, I ruined your lives,” Mars said. “Got you more detention and almost thrown out of school for good. I can’t ask you to stay away from your families forever.”
“But Mars,” Toothpick said. “We’re a team.”
“We’ll always be a team, Pick,” Mars said to him. “Whether we’re together or not. Goodbye, buddy. You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met. And I’ve met Oliver Pruitt.”
“Mars,” Toothpick said, but he could not think what to say next. He could not think how to stop Mars.
“My parents will get over it
, Mars,” JP sputtered. “Let me stay, too. I can protect you.”
Mars patted JP on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, JP. Take care of these guys, OK?”
“Mars, please don’t do this,” Caddie implored.
“I’m going to miss you, Caddie,” he said. “You’re the best person I know. I hope you can tell what I’m thinking.” He gave her a wavering smile.
“Yes. I hear it,” Caddie whispered. “Me, too.”
“Come on, guys, time to go,” Mr. Q said, signaling to the White Suits.
The kids tried to pull away, but there were too many White Suits forcing them out of the room. Caddie’s last view of Mars was of him standing next to Oliver Pruitt — a brave young person and a cold-hearted beast.
“OK, Mr. Pruitt,” Mars said to the hologram. “Now you’ve got me. So what gives?”
Mars tried to sound tough, but meanwhile he was wondering if he had just made the biggest mistake of his life. First, that call with his mother where he had to say goodbye forever, then watching his friends get dragged out while he was stuck inside this gadget room with someone who wasn’t even real, just a stupid light beam. What if that’s all Oliver Pruitt ever was? A light beam? A trick of the eye? A joke?
“Mars, you have been very brave,” Oliver said. “You are everything I hoped you’d be.”
“Well, you’re not,” Mars said. “Actually you’re the opposite.”
Oliver laughed. “You certainly don’t mince words. Look, Mars, I’m not the bad guy. I’m not here to tie you up and throw you to the wolves. But first I needed to know that you were up to the task. I needed to know you have what it takes.”
“I don’t get it,” Mars said.
“I’m here to show you a different way. I see how it’s turning out: our world is crumbling, and no one is doing anything about it. It’s time for a new future, Mars, and believe or not, kids are going to lead the way.”
For a second, Mars felt himself stirring. This sounded like the old Oliver Pruitt talking, the one Mars used to believe in, the one who made anything sound possible. Infinite Ping-Pong, artificial plants, beating hearts forever. “What do you mean? What’s going happen?”