by Hayes Farley
“Oh, sorry. Blue.”
Lachlan typed a command into his tablet and each of their circles turned blue. Another few swipes and the surrounding monitors flickered on to create a canvas-colored ten-foot square. He peeked over the top of the tablet and nodded at his work. “Kim, since you won the toss, the Smashball will start with you.” The ball rose from the floor and hovered into position.
“The match will begin and the Smashball will activate when you hear the bell. Good luck.”
Kim widened her stance and got into a ready position. “You’re going down, Bort.”
DING!
Kim saw that Alex’s eyes were trained on the ball, so she dropped into a crouch and angled her swipe low along the ground. Her Smashstick crashed into Alex’s ankle and sent him reeling. She hopped to her feet and finished him off with a jab to the chest. Alex staggered backward and out of his ring.
0-1
“No fair; he wasn’t ready!”
“Patrick,” Alex said. He turned and found his friend waving at him from the crowd. Eva and Nate were standing on either side. Nate looked like he should’ve stayed in bed.
“Brush it off, man, that was just a lucky shot,” Patrick called.
“Alex, I need you to return to your ring,” Lachlan said.
“You heard the man, Alex. Get back in there and show her what’s up!”
Alex stepped back into the ring and the Smashball drifted to his right shoulder. He could feel it at once. “Diamonds,” he said. “There are diamonds in this thing.”
Lachlan gave a slight nod. “Bell’s about to ring, Alex.”
DING!
Alex projected the Smashball straight for Kim’s face, ready to alter its path at the last second and score an easy point. But the moment it left his ring, he lost all control. Alex could only watch as Kim easily deflected the shot with her Smashstick. The ball ricocheted hard left, came to an abrupt stop, and drifted back into Kim’s ring, where it began to pulse red again.
“Rookie,” Kim said, shaking her head. With surprising speed, she faked a swing toward Alex’s shoulder and then struck him in the waist once he raised his guard. Before Alex could even register the hit, Kim was swinging again. She caught him in the same spot and Alex stumbled just enough that the toe of his shoe crossed the line.
0-2
“The ball only works in my ring?!” Alex said, unable to hide his irritation.
“Correct. Once it leaves your ring you lose control.”
“Well, that would’ve been nice to know,” Alex said. He could hear Kim laughing.
“Bullshit! Bullshit!” Patrick coughed.
This time when the bell rang, Alex focused not on the Smashball but on Kim’s attacks. He crouched into a defensive stance and began parrying her strikes. Toward the end of her turn, Alex could tell she was wearing down, yet she never stopped swinging. The allure of taking his head off must have been too much to ignore. The result was a wasted chance with the Smashball. It turned solid red and drifted to Alex.
He was ready. The instant it entered his ring, Alex had it bouncing up and down the length of his body. He kept his eyes locked on Kim as she tried to follow its movement. The moment she blinked, Alex sent the Smashball angling upward from a point level with his knees. It punched her square in the gut.
1-2
“Whoooo! That’s what I’m talkin about!”
Alex looked at the scoreboard. He liked seeing something other than “0” in his box.
DING!
Alex saw a flash of green and lifted his Smashstick just in time to deflect Kim’s blow so that it only glanced off his helmet. He twisted around and watched as Kim’s shoulders violently rotated in the opposite direction. There’d be no blocking this one. He steeled himself and was ready for impact, when suddenly he heard a collective gasp from the other students. Alex opened his eyes. Kim’s Smashstick was frozen just inches from his mask. He could feel it in his mind, could feel the strain of her muscles as she tried to wrest it away from him.
It was an odd sight, like she was playing a game of tug-of-war against nothing but air. It wasn’t long before everyone was laughing. They laughed even harder when Alex wrenched the stick out of her hands, positioned it between her legs, and lifted her out of the ring. She looked like a witch riding an unruly broomstick.
2-2
Kim ripped off her helmet and threw it aside. “No way! He can’t do that! That should be my point!”
Alex turned to Lachlan with genuine surprise, and then glanced over at Sonnier and President Joyce. Sonnier was an oak, but there was a hint of a smile on the president’s face.
“Sorry, Kim,” Lachlan said. “I forgot to mention that before the match. My apologies.”
“Well, what about the point? Does he still get a point?”
“Yes,” Lachlan answered. “Now please return to your ring.”
Kim looked at the scoreboard, her mouth gaping. For a moment, it looked as if she was going to storm out of the room. She calmed herself with a deep breath and her helmet zipped off the floor and into her hand.
“You want me to get you some eggnog to make you feel better?” Patrick called. She flagged him off as she stepped into the ring.
“Kim, don’t listen to him. Alex, you are not allowed to use TK on anything beyond the Smashball. If it happens again, Kim will get an automatic point. Understand? Good. Next point wins.”
DING!
The Smashball was in Kim’s ring and she finally decided to use it. Alex held his Smashstick at the ready and watched as the ball went revolving around Kim’s head. She closed her eyes and it picked up speed, faster and faster until the flashes blurred into a red halo as though she was some kind of fallen angel.
Alex never actually saw the shot, but it didn’t matter. He felt the Smashball the moment it entered his ring, and without so much as a flinch, he forced the ball to bend wide right. It stopped a few feet from striking someone in the crowd, then quickly returned to Alex’s side.
He didn’t waste any time, arcing the the Smashball high into the air so that it nearly brushed the ceiling. Kim tried to follow its path, but Alex jabbed her in the stomach and she doubled over. The ball landed with a loud CRACK right in the middle of her demon butterfly.
“SMOKIN THE DONKEY!”
The crowd cheered and screamed and they got even louder when Alex pulled off his helmet. He turned just in time to be rushed by his friends.
“That was awesome,” Patrick said.
“Thanks. I was kinda flying by the seat of my—”
“What? No, not the match,” Patrick said. “I mean, that was cool, too, but I’m talking about at the end there. Smokin the donkey? You heard that, right? Dude, that wasn’t me. I think it’s finally—”
“Hold that thought,” Alex said. “I just remembered I’ve gotta do something.” He crossed the room and found Kim sitting on her helmet, her head in her hands. She felt him standing there and looked up.
“Good game,” she said.
“You, too.” Alex took her hand and pulled her to her feet. Her eyes were glassy.
“Listen, I’m—”
“I’m sorry,” Alex said. “I never meant to upset you; I promise I’m not like that. Honestly, I just forgot.”
“I know, I know,” Kim said, rubbing her eyes. “I just—it’s funny how things can get blown out of proportion. Mostly because I can be a real bitch sometimes.”
“No, you’re not a—”
“Oh, yes I am!”
“Well, on second thought.”
Kim punched him in the shoulder.
“That reminds me, though…nice plan last night. I like your style.”
Kim perked up. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. I would’ve tried the same thing.”
“Ha! Thanks. It would’ve worked, too, but—you’re lucky to have her, you know.”
“I know.” Alex smiled at Eva. He knew she hadn’t heard any of the
conversation, but it didn’t stop her from smiling back. “No hard feelings, then?”
“No hard feelings,” Kim said. “Besides, I don’t want you trying to take me out whenever we start working together. You’re going on the next delivery, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, don’t remind me,” Alex said, his stomach tightening.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” she said, waving it off. “Definitely not anything you should be worrying about now. You should go hang out with her. Forget about all this Greyjean stuff for a while.”
Alex thanked her and turned to find Eva. He saw President Joyce and Sonnier standing to the side, probably wanting to speak with him. But Kim was right. That kind of talk could wait. He grabbed Eva by the waist and lifted her into the air.
23
Assignment
He turned off the alarm and lay there scratching his chest, the room completely dark save for a strip of sunlight running vertically up the far wall and across the ceiling. Highlighted above his head was a cluster of paint blisters. One had swelled and ruptured, the raised edges of its pockmark making it look something like a volcano. Alex stared at it for a long time, his eyes going dry and blurry as he imagined lava bubbling within its crater, churning and sloshing until finally some of it escaped and went hissing down the side in a glowing rivulet. He blinked and now there were seven more of these molten streams and soon Alex was staring not at a volcano but at a spider, red and menacing. He closed his eyes. He could still hear that awful shriek. Could still see the web glistening in the sun as she clawed at her face…
He sat on the edge of the bed and waited for his head to clear but it did not, and so he walked to the sink and splashed water on his face until his skin grew tight and his fingers went numb. He placed his hands on the porcelain and looked in the mirror and watched the water drip from his chin.
Alex was partway out the door when he remembered he was hungry. He leaned back in and a half-eaten bag of pretzels hopped off the floor and flew into the open flap of his backpack. He shoved a few pieces into his mouth as he walked outside.
He was some fifty yards from the Student Center when the Greyjeans started spilling out of the café and onto the patio. He pulled out his phone and checked last night’s email from President Joyce.
Professor Sonnier and I would like to speak with you tomorrow morning. Meet us at the café. 9:30.
So he wasn’t late, just not invited to the actual meeting. He sort of shrugged to himself and tucked his phone back into his pocket and stepped off the path to make room for the seniors. Most of them smiled and nodded as they passed. A few said hi. Alex still wasn’t friends with any of them, but at least now they were cordial.
He spotted Lachlan. The junior was walking alone, head down, his long blond hair tied in a samurai-style knot. He looked tired. “Lach!” Alex called.
No answer.
“Lachlan. Hey Lachlan!”
“Geez, give it up, Bort. Can’t you tell he’s in the zone?”
“Or making a run for the bathroom,” Alex said. He smiled at Kim. During these last few weeks, she had become his closest friend amongst the Greyjeans. “But something tells me you’re right.”
“I usually am.” Kim set her purse on the ground and retied her hair into a ponytail. When she finished, her purse lifted into the air and the strap stretched and widened and slipped around her right shoulder.
“So, I guess I wasn’t cool enough to get the invite to the real meeting?”
“Something like that,” Kim said. “They mentioned your name a few times, though.”
“What’d they say?”
“You’ll find out.”
“Oh, come on.”
She looked in his backpack. “Are you gonna eat those?”
“They’re all yours,” Alex said, half-twisting so she could reach in and grab the bag of pretzels.
Kim stuffed one in her mouth. When she spoke her voice was muffled. “Remind me again why I hated you so much?”
Alex made a show of checking his watch. “Where do I start?”
Her smile widened. She pulled the water bottle from Alex’s backpack.
“You’re not gonna tell me what they said, are you?”
“Nope. No spoilers from me.” She started for the dorms. “Oh, and thanks for the breakfast!”
“You can keep the water!”
“I know!” she called.
Alex watched her walk down the path. He wondered how things would have changed had he called her number.
****
“Good morning.” Alex sat down and scooted forward, careful not to bump the table. The three of them were the only ones in the room.
“Morning,” Sonnier said. He sat crookedly in the too-small chair. He looked uncomfortable.
“Good morning, Alex,” President Joyce said. “I know you don’t drink coffee, but it would be rude of me not to offer you something to drink. May I get you anything?”
“No thank you. I’m not thirsty.” He watched President Joyce take a sip of coffee, his movement so slow and measured and purposeful that he seemed dedicated to perfecting the motion.
“Alex, did any of the others tell you about the meeting this morning?”
“No sir.”
“Did you ask?”
“Yes sir, I asked Kim. I tried to talk to Lachlan, but he seemed to have a lot on his mind.”
“So you are making some friends,” Sonnier said.
“Yes sir, with some of the juniors.”
President Joyce took another sip of coffee. His glasses fogged. “Alex, we’ve asked Lachlan to lead the next mission.”
“Oh. No wonder he looked nervous.”
President Joyce nodded. “It will be his first time.”
“When is it?” Alex said.
“The second Friday in May.”
Alex glanced at Sonnier but saw no reaction. “Am I still going?”
“Oh, yes,” President Joyce said.
Alex could feel their stares. He looked at his napkin and resisted the urge to tear at its edge.
“You are to shadow Lachlan,” President Joyce said. “At no point do I want you leaving his side. As for the details…” He withdrew a tablet from his briefcase and swiped across the display, bringing up a map with five boxes along the top border. Pictures of Lachlan, Kim, and Alex filled the first three spots. Two other juniors that Alex recognized but couldn’t name filled the last two boxes. “The five of you will be in charge of receiving our next diamond shipment. It will take place here,” he said, zooming in on the map, “at Pier 42 at the Blount Island Ports.” The name sounded familiar to Alex. He started to lean in for a better look, but President Joyce swiped away the map. In its place was a rotating, 3D image of a cargo ship. “Our diamonds will arrive hidden inside of a larger shipment of African timber.”
“Hidden?”
“Several of the logs will be hollowed out.” He saw the look on Alex’s face. “I am quite sure you’ll know which ones. Even so, one of our operatives will be aboard to help you with the loading process.”
Alex nodded.
“After securing the diamonds, the five of you will drive to the airport and fly back to Durham. Our shuttles will be waiting to take you back to campus.” He turned off the tablet and returned it to his briefcase. “Do you have any questions?”
“I’ve got one,” Sonnier said. His voice was extra gruff this morning. “You keep saying five this, five that. What am I, chopped liver?”
“You’re going?” Alex tried but couldn’t keep the excitement out of his voice. He felt better knowing an adult would be on the mission.
“Yes, of course I’m going. We don’t trust you knuckleheads to do this on your own.”
“Professor Sonnier’s role is purely supervisory,” President Joyce said.
“Supervisory…that’s a fancy way of saying I have nothing to do, and that I’m going to be bored.”
President Joyce looked
at him and shook his head. “You’ll never change, will you?”
Sonnier took a deep breath and stretched back in his little chair. It creaked. “Negative.”
President Joyce smiled. “So, Alex, do you have any questions?”
It took him a second to remember what he wanted to ask. “Blount Island…where is that?”
“Less than an hour from your house,” President Joyce said.
Alex’s eyes widened. “I knew that sounded familiar. I think I’ve seen the place!”
“I’m sure you have,” President Joyce said. “And to answer your next question: Yes, you will be allowed to visit your father. After the diamonds are secured on the plane, a shuttle will drive you home. I’ve arranged for you to fly back to campus Sunday evening.”
Alex didn’t know what to say and so he just grinned. He couldn’t wait to see his dad.
“We thought you’d like that,” Sonnier said.
Alex finally found his voice. “So what should I do now?”
“I would suggest getting in touch with Lachlan as soon as possible,” President Joyce said. “I want you right there with him throughout the planning stages. Pay attention to how he talks to his team. How he gives everyone a specific role. It’s not the most glamorous process, but it’s a necessary process—and you need to learn it. Because by this time next year, you will be leading missions.”
24
Good Luck
Nate walked forward until he was just a few feet from the rim. He looked up and spun the ball between his hands.
“Don’t even think about it, Broccoli,” Patrick said.
Nate looked over his shoulder and smiled. “Oh, I’m thinking.”
“Don’t do it.”
“Oh, I’m doing it.” Nate dribbled the ball once, twice, then he jumped and twisted in the air and slammed the ball through the hoop in a behind-the-back dunk. He hung there grinning at his friends.
Patrick waved his hands with feigned excitement. “Ooookay, we’re all impressed. Now come down from there and do your real shot.”
Nate dropped to the hardwood floor. “That was my real shot.” The ball stopped rolling and flew into Nate’s hands. He handed it to Patrick. “Your turn.”