by Zac Harrison
“We’d be less likely to hit each other if we had a little more room,” said Kritta tactfully.
“I suggest you use the Sonic Sports Hall,” Master Tronic said. “And you’d better head up in the Grav-Lifter beam, too. You’ll never get the Defendroids in a service elevator.”
“No kidding. We barely got us in a service elevator,” Monix grumbled.
“So what is the Grav-Lifter beam exactly?” John asked the team sheet as they walked on through the Belly hallways, the Defendroids in training mode following close behind.
Ton-3 flashed into being. She had changed outfits again. Now she was wearing a workman’s vest and holding a huge wrench. “It’s for hauling the big loads between decks! No need for platforms or elevators — just a big, wide-open shaft, with tractor beams to pull you up or down!”
“Uh-oh,” said Tarope. Up ahead lay the edge of what looked like a gaping circular pit, easily sixty-five feet across. “I think this must be it.” A faint reddish light pulsed down the length of the shaft.
John gulped. “Do we just . . . walk over the edge?”
“You got it!” chirped Ton-3.
“I’ll go first,” Kaal said boldly, striding in front. His wings twitched, ready to bear him up, if need be. He took a step over the edge and hung there in space, the edges of his body glowing in the beam.
“Okay, everyone,” John said. “All together, on the count of three. One, two . . . three!”
Together, they walked over the edge. Kritta held her hands over her eyes. Suddenly, John felt like he was walking on soft pillows. He looked down, and immediately wished he hadn’t. The shaft seemed to drop down to infinity.
“We’re moving!” Tarope said.
Sure enough, the whole team, Defendroids and all, was rising steadily upward.
John could see the bright lights of the ship’s upper decks shining far above. He kept his eyes fixed on that, refusing to look down again.
When the Galactic Battle team reached the Sonic Sports Hall, John still felt more than a little giddy from his ride on the Grav-Lifter beam. Being hauled up through several decks without even a platform to stand on had been a little nerve-racking, to say the least.
Still, the admiring glances and comments they’d gotten from the other students as they’d departed the Grav-Lifter beam and led the Defendroids through the corridors to the Sonic Space Hall had been worth it. John was feeling almost proud of them now.
He activated the touch screen outside the hall. “Okay, team. We can customize the room for Galactic Battle, and there are loads of options. Random floor tilt, laser turret fire, maze settings, reflectors . . .”
The team looked at him with expressions of horror.
“Or I could just set it to basic,” John added hastily. “Simple, shock-resistant, and soundproof. Yeah. That makes sense. I think we’ll go for basic.”
“Good choice,” Kritta whispered as they filed inside.
“This looks great!” said Tarope, running into the center of the hall. “There’s tons of room.”
“Okay, everyone!” John called. “Ready to get some serious practice in?”
Everyone except Monix yelled, “Yeah!”
Monix just shrugged, which looked pretty weird on a floating oblong.
“So how does this work?” Kritta asked. “We can’t actually damage the Defendroids permanently, can we?”
Ton-3 was quick to answer, now back and wearing her bright yellow team T-shirt and shorts. “When your weapons have their safety on, they won’t do any permanent damage. The Defendroids will count how many times you’ve successfully hit them. Twenty hits and they fall over until the next round. Oh, and bashing them on the head is a critical hit and stuns them. If you can manage it.”
Just like fighting a goblin in the World of Khaos video game, John thought.
“And what do we do when they hit us?” Monix said acidly. “Bleed on them?”
“They won’t hit us,” John assured her. “In training mode, they back off when they’re hit.”
“That’s a relief,” said Dyfi. “Otherwise, we’d all be squished!”
“Okay, team, let’s get to work,” John said. “This morning was kind of a mess, but never mind, that’s all behind us. We’ve got real opponents now, so we can really cut loose. Okay. Let’s get started. First, everyone spread out and find a space.”
The team did as he asked — except Monix, who stayed where she was. She’s really testy about not being leader, John thought. I can’t let it get to me. But it still stung to have her ignore him so obviously.
“Defendroids!” he yelled. “Each one of you, pick an opponent!”
Steel Storm, Basher, Lasher, Slicer, Dicer, and Crusher stomped into position, matching themselves against the team members.
“Okay, team,” John said, “It’s game on. Fight!”
The LaserPros flared into life, and instantly the hall was full of the ruckus of energy beams clashing and sparking off robust robot bodies. The Defendroids attacked slowly, giving their opponents plenty of time to dodge, and the LaserPros looked awesome as they slashed brightly through the air.
We can do this, John thought. All we need is a little more space!
But although the team was less of a mess than before, they were still only swiping at the Defendroids back and forth. Every time they seemed to gain some ground, the robots drove them back again. John needed to change strategy.
“Let’s form a circle, everyone! Stand side by side, and let the robots come at us. We can guard each other’s backs!”
Dyfi and Tarope began to back toward him, but Kaal seemed to be in a world of his own. He was talking to Kritta — or trying to.
“I heard you liked Robot Warriors,” John heard him say. “You know I was joint champion, right?”
“Yeah,” Kritta said, blocking Lasher’s snaking whip with her LaserPro.
“I could show you my blueprints if you like, I’ve still got them . . .”
“Huh?” Kritta said. “Sorry, did you say something?”
John turned away, frustrated. Why wasn’t Kaal concentrating on the task at hand? Where was Monix?
Then he saw Monix, swinging her LaserPro wildly. One slash narrowly missed Kaal’s wingtip. Another thwacked Kritta on the upper arm.
“Hey! Watch it!” Kritta shouted. “If your safety hadn’t been on, you’d have sliced my arm off!”
“Monix, try to keep your attacks focused!” John called.
“I know what I’m doing!” she shouted at him. She was battering Basher mercilessly, driving it across the room. “You should be watching my moves instead of trying to order me around!”
Basher was backing away from her furious attacks. But it took John a second to notice that it was stomping right toward him.
Suddenly, as if it sensed an easier target, Basher whizzed its head around. Then its arms and legs. It struck out at John with its wrecking-ball arm. In a reflex action, John whacked away the ball — with milliseconds to spare.
But now Basher was on him, slamming and swiping. Never mind what Master Tronic had said — those swinging limbs looked dangerous! Had Monix driven the Defendroid into him on purpose?
John struck desperately at the Defendroid with his LaserPro, scoring minor hits here and there. Where on Earth was the rest of his team? He looked around and saw them watching the fight. They just stood there waiting for orders, staring foolishly as if they were watching holo-TV, unsure of what to do next.
“A little help?” John yelled.
Kaal began to edge forward, glancing back at Kritta, but just as that moment, one of John’s wild blows connected with Basher’s head. Its eyes flashed, registering a critical hit, and it sank slowly to the floor.
John switched off his LaserPro and stood, breathing heavily.
“I’ve had more than enough of this for
one day,” he said. He knew he sounded frustrated and worn out, but right now he just didn’t care. “I’m going to take the Defendroids back to their cell. We’ll meet up here again tomorrow morning, nine sharp. Let’s all get some rest. Don’t worry. I’m sure things will go better tomorrow.”
They could hardly go any worse, he thought, and turned to leave.
CHAPTER 6
“This just doesn’t feel right,” John said. “I wish I knew where Emmie was.”
John and Kaal were sitting together in the Center, at a table made from translucent black material with swirling holographic lights dancing in it.
“Oh, she can take care of herself,” Kaal said, waving a dismissive hand. “Hey, what snacks do you think Kritta likes? Felgercrunchies? Or would they make her explode? I could try running an experiment in the labs, but I’d need some of her DNA . . .”
The fried shrimp and chips Zepp had made for John were delicious — golden, crisp, and just salty enough — but two things were spoiling his dinner.
One was Emmie, or rather, the lack of Emmie. She’d said she would meet them for dinner, but she was nowhere to be seen.
The other was Kaal, who had finally worked up the courage to try more of John’s food, but was instead dissecting every little bit and arranging the fragments on the table in front of him. It reminded John of how he used to eat peanut butter cups when he was little, nibbling off the edge parts and devouring the middle peanut butter part last.
“Fascinating,” Kaal commented, as he unwrapped the batter on a piece of shrimp. “The little dead sea creatures are all encased in this brittle stuff. It’s like they’re entombed.” He added the pieces to his growing collection.
“You’re supposed to just eat it,” John said. “It’s not good manners to play with your food at the table.”
“But I’m learning about it!” Kaal protested. “This Earth food is just so weird. Crawly sea creatures and roots from under the ground, on the same dish?”
“I told you, all you have to do is ask me about it. You don’t have to pick the food apart!”
Kaal folded his arms and made a stubborn face. “How else do you learn except by taking things apart? That’s science!”
“You can’t look at everything as if it were a science problem, Kaal. Even if you are a nerd.”
Kaal looked across at where Kritta was sitting and heaved a long sigh. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe sometimes, you need to go with your feelings instead of using logic . . .”
John wondered what on Earth Kaal’s feelings could possibly have to do with his dissected shrimp. “It’s just about good manners,” he tried to say, but Kaal didn’t seem to be listening.
Kritta was at a nearby table along with her friends: Shazilda, the purple-horned girl, and Dol, the dolphin-like P’Sidion who wore a bubble-shaped helmet filled with water. They were talking among themselves, giggling at some shared joke.
All the way through his meal, Kaal had been staring at Kritta, obviously trying to work something out. It was so frustrating. Talking to Kaal about anything important right now was like trying to communicate with a raw potato.
Suddenly, Emmie was there, shoving her way through the tables to reach them. John stood up happily, but the smile faded from his face as soon as he saw hers. Her navy blue eyes were brimming with blue tears, and she looked furious.
“Emmie?” he said.
She folded her arms and looked from John to Kaal and back. “Thanks. Thanks oh so much for the present. You really shouldn’t have.”
John’s brain went into a confused wheel spin. Kaal just frowned a little, as if Emmie’s outburst meant nothing to him.
“Wha—what are you talking about?” John managed to blurt out.
Emmie wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Oh, that’s really cute. Act like you don’t know. Honestly, why don’t the two of you just . . . just grow up?” She threw her arms up in frustration, turned on her heels, and stormed off.
“Emmie, wait!” John called after her. But she was already vanishing through the far doors and away down the hall.
“I think she’s upset,” Kaal mused.
“A plus for observation!” John said, sitting down heavily. “What do you think we did wrong?”
Kaal shrugged. He had resumed looking at Kritta’s table.
“We should go after her,” John said. “She’s obviously got the wrong end of the stick about something. Maybe she’s upset with me about the detention? But she seemed okay about it before . . .”
“It might be better to let her calm down a bit first,” Kaal suggested. “I’m going to go and join Kritta. Coming?”
John shook his head. “I need to think this over and figure out what Emmie’s so angry about.” He sat and chewed morosely on a chip, as Kaal strode over to Kritta and her friends. What’s he up to? John thought. He suddenly had a feeling that whatever Kaal was about to do, it was something stupid.
Kritta glanced up as the big Derrilian approached. “Oh, hi, Kaal. Want to sit down? Where’s John? Is he not with you?”
“Thought the two of them were inseparable!” Shazilda said, chuckling.
As John watched, he had the horrible feeling of watching a train crash in slow motion, and being unable to do anything about it.
But Kaal didn’t sit down. Instead, to John’s horror, he spread his wings and launched himself into the air, soaring above the startled Kritta. Then he swooped majestically through the air, gliding around her table in a perfect circle.
John covered his face with his hands and then peeked out through his fingers. It was like a nightmare, but he couldn’t look away. It was clear that however stupid he looked, Kaal was trying — hard — to make an impression on Kritta.
So that’s why he’s been acting so weird, John realized. He likes Kritta!
Kaal flew around and around, flying in circles above Kritta’s table. Kritta, Shazilda, and Dol all gawked at him in shock.
“What is he doing?” exclaimed Dol. As Kaal flew past again, she gave a frightened squeak and dove under the table.
Kritta and Shazilda just stared in disbelief, and now more and more students in the Center were staring, too. Some laughed, some pointed, and a few began to record holovids on their ThinScreens.
Great, thought John. He’ll never live this down . . . What is the big guy doing, flying in circles like a vulture waiting to dive?
Kaal’s face looked purposeful and deeply serious, as if he were doing something that mattered to him a lot. But that just made him look even more ridiculous.
Half the Center was laughing at him now. “He’s going to start dive-bombing you in a minute!” someone yelled.
“If this is meant to impress Kritta,” John muttered under his breath, “you’ve seriously blown it, pal. This is painful.”
Kaal seemed to be waiting for something to happen, but it just wasn’t. His face took on a look of desperation as he flew in yet another circle, beating his wings madly.
Eventually, to the whoops and cheers of the watching students, he flew back down to the ground. Looking limp and dejected, he shuffled back to John’s table.
John badly wanted to get up and leave, but Kaal was his friend, and John knew you don’t run out on your friends. Even if they act like total idiots in front of half the school.
Kaal sat down and buried his face in his hands.
John heard giggling from Kritta’s table. She and her friends were whispering behind their hands, pointing and laughing crazily. He caught the words “. . . maybe they’re all like that where he comes from!” and hoped it wasn’t Kritta who had said it.
“So much for going with your feelings!” Kaal said, his voice muffled by his huge hands. “That was a total disaster.”
“Oh, come on, it can’t be all that bad,” John said, trying to find the right words. “I’m sure she . . . uh . . . appre
ciated whatever it was you were trying to do.” He paused. “What were you trying to do?”
“Don’t you have the Wakan-Dothak on your planet?” Kaal asked, lowering his hands. “I thought all worlds had it, or something like it?”
John looked blank.
“It’s a mating display,” Kaal said, his cheeks an even deeper green with embarrassment. “The Derrilian males fly above the females, and . . . uh . . . show off how big and strong their wings are.”
“Oh,” said John. “Oh. I think I get it.” Don’t laugh, don’t laugh, DON’T LAUGH, he told himself.
“We prove our strength and agility by flying in perfect circles, so the females know what worthy mates we will . . . make . . .” Kaal’s voice trailed off.
“Do you mean to tell me,” John said very slowly, “that where you come from, flying around over a girl’s head is flirting?”
Kaal gave a miserable nod. “I thought it would be so simple,” he said sadly. “My parents always told me my Wakan-Dothak would be irresistible, once I was old enough to go and find a girlfriend. Well, Kritta certainly looks like she resisted it!”
“Don’t worry, dude,” John said, punching Kaal affectionately in the shoulder. “Plenty more fish in the sea, eh?”
“I don’t want to date a fish,” Kaal said gloomily. “I like Kritta. But she obviously doesn’t like me.”
John wondered what he could do to snap his friend out of this glum mood. Emmie would have known just what to do. She was an expert at cheering people up.
That gave him an idea. “Come on. Let’s search this ship top to bottom until we find Emmie. If we’ve done something to upset her, we need to know what it is.”
Kaal thought for a second. “You’re right,” he said. “No point sitting around and moping. Let’s go.”
At least that worked, John thought.
So the search began. John and Kaal rode the TravelTube up and down Hyperspace High, hunting for any sign of Emmie. She wasn’t in the Zero-Gravity Sports Hall, where students wearing jetpacks were in the middle of an intense game of seven-a-side Ricochet (John thought it looked a lot like basketball, except shots had to be bounced off the walls, floor, or ceiling).