by Zac Harrison
“Hey!” said the third student, a pulsing red oblong that hovered in the air. “You’re John Riley, right?” Two short hands protruded from each side of her strange body. John couldn’t be sure if she was a super advanced robot, some sort of intelligent talking crystal, or something he hadn’t even heard of before.
“Of course he is,” Kritta butted in. “Don’t you know a Robot Warriors champion when you see one?”
The red oblong bobbed up and down, as if it were annoyed. “Thought so. I’m Monix. This is my final year, so I’m hoping to go out on a high note. Let’s not mess this up, okay?”
“Are there really only five of us?” John wondered aloud.
“Hey, there’s actually six — don’t forget me!” piped a shrill little voice from somewhere below John’s knee.
John looked down to see a tiny yellow creature, no more than a foot high. She looked a bit like a yellow seahorse, but with delicate little arms and legs. Her beady little eyes were as bright as polished coins.
“Oh, heck,” John said, feeling bad. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you down there!”
The tiny student laughed, making a sound like a piccolo flute. “Oh, don’t worry. I get that all the time. The name’s Dyfi, and I’m a second-year student. Nice to meet you all.”
“So what do we do now?” John asked.
“We sit and wait for our instructions,” Monix told him. “Lorem goes around to all the teams and tells them what they’ll be doing. He does it every year.”
“How long’s he going to take?” complained Tarope. “I want to get started with the energy weapons!” He slashed his hand through the air. “Whumm, zumm, zoooo . . .”
“Oh, I imagine he’ll be here any moment,” said Lorem, suddenly standing in the center of the group.
John hadn’t noticed the headmaster flash up through the floor in his energy-ball form. As much as you saw it happen, the way Lorem could suddenly appear out of nowhere like that was still startling.
There was a low humming sound, and an Examiner glided into the room. John’s stomach lurched, but he told himself to stay calm. I haven’t done anything wrong. Well, nothing I know about, anyway . . .
“Every team must have a leader,” Lorem explained to the group. “Before I can give you the details of your task, I need you to select who your leader will be. I want you to nominate out loud at least two candidates for leader, then vote for the candidate you prefer.”
“How do we vote?” piped Dyfi.
“Just think about your chosen candidate. This Examiner will then scan your minds and announce the winner.”
Examiners can scan thoughts? John puzzled. He hadn’t known that, and the new knowledge made the hair prickle at the back of his neck. He wondered if the Examiner could tell what he was thinking right then, and that made John feel even worse. He clenched his jaw and tried not to think about it.
“I nominate myself for leader,” Monix said firmly. “I’m the oldest, and I’ve been in more Space Spectaculars than the rest of you, so I know the ropes. It makes sense.”
That works for me, John thought. Monix seemed to be looking down on them all sometimes, but she obviously knew what she was doing.
“I’m nominating John,” Kritta said. “He won the Robot Warriors contest. And everyone knows how brave he is. He would be a great leader.”
That came as a shock. Me, lead the group? Plenty of protests rose to John’s lips — I can’t, I don’t have any experience, I’m sure you can do better than me — but he said none of them aloud.
However, Kritta had forgotten something important, and he needed to set her straight. “I wasn’t the only winner,” he said modestly. “Kaal was the joint winner, along with me. So if I’m being nominated for team leader, he should be, too.”
Kaal mumbled something and looked down at his clawed feet.
“What was that?” snapped Monix.
“I said, ‘no thanks.’” Kaal’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to be nominated for leader, but thanks all the same.”
“Good,” said Monix.
“Suit yourself,” Tarope shrugged. “Anyone else?”
There were no volunteers.
“Very well,” said Lorem. “Everyone, please think of either Monix or John. And please do remember that leadership is an honor as well as a duty.”
This is not an easy decision, John reflected. Monix clearly knew what she was doing, but then, leading a team might be fun. He was sure Lorem would think highly of people who stepped up to the job.
I should vote for myself, John thought, and was about to — but then doubt took over.
Am I ready to lead a team? What would I be getting myself into? It’s a lot of responsibility. What if someone makes me look like an idiot in front of everyone’s families? I know I can trust Kaal — but what about these others? I barely know them! And Monix WANTS to be leader, so I should let her have the job.
His mind made up, he thought of Monix as the Examiner scanned him with a flickering red beam. Making a satisfied-sounding beep, the Examiner moved to the other students. John shivered at the thought of that thing poking about in his brain.
Once all the students had been scanned, the Examiner moved back and paused dramatically. Then it declared in its flat, impassive voice: “SELECTION MADE. LEADER WILL BE STUDENT JOHN RILEY.”
“What?” John said before he could stop himself.
Using its manipulator beam, the Examiner passed John a flat, slim digital notepad. “THIS IS YOUR TEAM SHEET. IT CONTAINS IMPORTANT RULES. STUDY IT CAREFULLY.”
John looked at the device and passed it to Kaal, too shocked to think straight.
They voted for me?
But when he figured out the numbers, that meant the only people to vote for Monix were John and Monix herself! Though she obviously thought he’d voted for himself, by the look of her.
I’m not sure I’m up to this, he thought.
“Well, leader?” Monix said sulkily. “What do you want us to do first?”
“Um . . . why don’t we all take a look at the team sheet? Let’s see what we’re supposed to be doing.” It seemed like a good place to start, John figured.
The team clustered around the little digital notepad, talking excitedly about LaserPros and Hot Shots, whatever they were.
John felt a tap on his shoulder. It was Lorem, who John had forgotten was still here.
“John, might I have a little word?”
“Of course.”
Lorem led John off to one side. “I know your parents won’t be able to attend the show, for obvious reasons. But don’t let that deter you! For the thousands of other parents who can come, you will be their first-ever experience of an Earthling. I am looking forward to seeing you put your planet firmly on their galactic map.”
John smiled despite his doubts. “I’ll do my best, I promise.”
“I am sure you will. You learn very quickly, John. Indeed, I often forget you are from Earth, and not one of the more advanced planets. If I expect a great deal of you, it is only because you are capable of great things.”
“Thanks,” John said. He hoped Lorem was right, because at that moment he was not feeling it himself. But the headmaster had given him something to live up to.
If his parents couldn’t be here, he could at least make Lorem proud.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to brief the Zero-G Acrobatics team. Good luck, Galactic Battle team. And, if you don’t mind, please don’t blow any holes in the ship. I’m rather fond of it.”
Lorem and the Examiner left — one through the floor in energy-ball form, the other through the door — and John gathered the group around the team sheet. A large BRIEFING icon was flashing, so he pressed it.
A fan of laser light beamed upward from the team sheet, forming into a hologram of a smiling, computer-genera
ted figure. She looked like a perky robot cheerleader, wearing a T-shirt and shorts in the team’s bright yellow color.
“Hi, team!” the hologram said. “I’m Ton-3, your personal coach and instructor! You’re going to love the task we’ve set for you. For the Space Spectacular, you’re going to defeat a group of Defendroids using three different types of energy weapons! We don’t want anyone getting hurt, so you’ll have authentic high-impact GalactoFlak battlesuits to wear, too.”
“Cool!” said Kritta. And John was glad to see that the rest of the team seemed delighted, too.
Images flashed across the screen of the team sheet — huge, stomping robots that looked grim and unfriendly. John assumed that these were Defendroids.
“Jeepers!” said Ton-3. “Defendroids are no picnic! Better get some practice, huh? You’re going to need teamwork to bring down those bad boys!” Her cheerleader outfit morphed into a GalactoFlak battlesuit, a close-fitting mesh with molded armor panels.
“So what are we practicing with, exactly?” asked Tarope.
From behind her back, Ton-3 produced a sleek, white rod with a lens on one end and a set of controls on the base. “The first weapon you’re going to need to show off is the LaserPro! You can collect your LaserPros from the Junkyard in the technology facility. Well, what are you waiting for?”
Maybe this won’t be as difficult as I thought, John thought, as the team trooped over to the technology facility. The team seemed excited, and LaserPros looked easy to use. Maybe I am getting worked up over nothing . . .
A box of LaserPros was waiting in the storage area the students all called the Junkyard. John picked one up and checked the team sheet.
“Ignite your LaserPro by pressing the red switch,” it said. “Make sure the safety toggle is set to ON.”
John activated the weapon, and several feet of radiant energy sprang from the tip. “Wow!” he gasped. He tried a few practice swings.
“Try slicing through that old length of vent pipe,” Tarope suggested. “I’ve heard these things go through metal like zarb-butter!”
John slashed the pipe in half with one blow. The tarnished metal was bright and gleaming where he’d cut through it.
“That is so cool!” he said. “We’re going to have to be careful with these, though. Battlesuits on, everyone. I don’t want anyone getting their limbs chopped off.”
A nasty metallic chuckle came from behind one of the storage racks. G-Vez the Serve-U-Droid popped out its head.
“Indeed,” it said smugly. “Robots can be repaired. Human beings aren’t so easy to fix, are they?”
“Get lost, G-Vez,” said Kaal. “And the same goes for your master, if he’s hiding here, too.”
“Master has better things to do,” the droid said cheekily. “Now, run along.”
John noticed G-Vez was clutching a metal claw. The annoying little Serve-U-Droid was obviously scavenging spare parts from broken-down droids, left over from the Robot Warriors contest.
John wondered why. He was sure that if G-Vez broke, Mordant would probably just scrap G-Vez and get a new one.
John tried to ignore G-Vez and get back to the task at hand: battlesuits. The team pulled them on. John was amazed that the fabric didn’t have even a trace of a seam. He gave one of his armored panels an experimental punch and felt nothing at all.
The team talked excitedly among themselves as they hurried back to force field 1.0. Even Monix seemed happier now, flipping her LaserPro in her hand and catching it. Kritta kept repeating, “This is the best team. Everyone else will be so jealous.”
“Good work!” said Ton-3 on their return, swinging a holographic LaserPro around in each of her robotic hands. “Now you’re going to need to get some practice in. I can generate some holos for you to fight, but live opponents are better.”
“Okay, you heard her!” said John. “We’ll divide the team into pairs for sparring. Kaal, you fight Monix. Kritta, pair up with Dyfi. Tarope, spar with me.”
As they spread out and ignited their LaserPros, John thought, They all did what I said, without question. I am a leader, after all! This is going to be easy!
But that feeling soon evaporated as he saw Tarope fumbling with his ignited LaserPro.
“Hold on,” the frog-like alien panted. “I’m just trying to get a good grip.”
The trouble was, Tarope’s skin was slimy. The harder he tried to grip his LaserPro, the more it slipped out of his grasp like wet soap in the bath. John stood in a fighting stance, feeling a bit ridiculous, but doing his best to be patient.
“Okay!” Tarope finally yelled, clutching his LaserPro in both hands. “Got it now. On guard, human! Yaaaaa!”
Tarope charged at John on his floppy, froggy legs, swinging his energy blade around his head.
John clumsily brought his own blade up to fighting stance — but then Tarope’s LaserPro slipped from his hands and went flying across the room.
Kritta squeaked and ducked, and the LaserPro whizzed through the air where her head had been seconds before. It hit the wall, bounced off with a fizz of energy, landed on the floor, and switched itself off.
“Sorry!” John called over, biting his lip.
Kritta shook her head and tried to carry on dueling with Dyfi, but it was a mess. Dyfi could hardly hold the LaserPro in her tiny hands, and Kritta’s extra limbs kept getting in the way.
“Eep!” she yelled, as she nearly hit her own leg.
An uncomfortable feeling was beginning to creep into John’s mind. Maybe no leader could possibly whip this team into shape. Tarope couldn’t keep hold of his LaserPro, Kritta was literally falling over herself, and Dyfi couldn’t even lift her weapon. Maybe they were just a team of duds.
I’m the leader. I have to say something.
“Okay, Tarope, let’s go over that again,” he said. “Maybe if you pace yourself a bit? Instead of an all-out attack, try a few cuts and thrusts—”
“Oh, save it,” Tarope said angrily. “These stupid things are probably defective.” He kicked his turned-off LaserPro across the room, then sat down and gazed over at Monix.
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.
CHAPTER 4
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 LaserP
ros 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.