Sulan, Episode 1: The League

by Camille Picott

  Part of next year’s curriculum is an internship in one of Global’s departments. Hank applied for a position in Dad’s lab. I applied to the Defense Department. The mercs have never taken an intern from VHS before, but for ten seconds it was fun to pretend I have a choice. In reality, I know Claudine will stick me wherever she wants me to be.

  Hank and I head to applied physics, walking side by side. I try to imagine what it will be like tomorrow, when I see her for the first time in the flesh—when I see all my classmates for the first time. We should all look exactly as we do in Vex, but somehow I think seeing everyone in the real-world will be different.

  “This move would be less stressful if we didn’t have to go to school this week,” Hank says. “They should have given us some time off.”

  I grunt. “We each have one duffel bag to pack. How much time does that really take?”

  “You know what I mean,” Hank says. “We’re leaving everything behind. This move would be easier on everyone if we didn’t have to worry about grades for a week.”

  “Underachievers don’t belong in the Global Arms family,” I say in Claudine’s syrupy voice.

  Hank makes a face at me.

  We find Billy waiting for us outside the classroom. At the sight of Hank, he tilts his head to one side and lets his hair fall away from his eyes. His smile is radiant and all for her.

  Hank’s slouch disappears in a flash. She slides into place beside Billy, lacing her fingers together with his.

  “Hey,” she says, her voice gooey.

  “Hey,” he replies, no less gooey.

  “Any good conspiracies today?” I ask, because if I don’t say something, the gooeyness will perpetuate into infinity.

  “The CEO of NorAm Bank might be descendent of reptilian aliens,” Billy says. “The entire organization could be infiltrated by extraterrestrials.”

  “No conspiracy talk right now,” Hank says. “It’s time for class. See you in genetics?” she adds, to Billy.

  “See you then.” Billy kisses her cheek. Hank blushes. I try not to gag.

  Hank and I head inside and take our seats. The bell rings, and Claudine Winn’s avatar materializes before us. I’m not surprised to see her today, the day before our relocation, though I am surprised she’s managed to rouse herself before ten. I adopt my customary slump into my chair.

  “Good morning, students,” Claudine says. “Today is the last day of Virtual High School. Tomorrow I will have the pleasure of welcoming you in person when we all relocate to the Livermore Lab!” She pauses dramatically.

  A cylinder of light shoots down the middle of the classroom. At first I think this is part of Claudine’s presentation, but then an Asian man in a navy-blue jumpsuit materializes inside it. He’s got a AT-57 machine gun on his back and an OS-15 automatic handgun on each hip. Emblazoned on the right breast of his uniform is the insignia of the Anti-American League.

  Panic surges through me. I leap to my feet, immediately dropping into a defensive crouch.

  I try to anticipate their next move. A virus maybe, deployed through our Vex sets? Or is this a hack into personnel files, to find out where all of us live, so the League can target us individually before our move to Livermore—

  The Leaguer leaps over the desks and goes straight for Claudine.

  “Firewall!” Claudine screams. “Code five!”

  The Leaguer grabs her by the arm and points a gun at her head. The moment seems to stretch on forever; everyone is frozen in place, staring at Claudine’s terrified face and the gun barrel resting against her temple. The weapon won’t kill her, but if there’s any sort of black tech inside, there’s no telling what might happen.

  The Leaguer leans forward, lips millimeters away from Claudine’s ear, then speaks in a whisper loud enough for all to hear:

  “Give me all your math books.”

  The knot in my chest unravels. I flop into my chair, a puddle of relief.

  A prank. This is nothing but a prank.

  Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t have found much humor it. But since Claudine is its victim, I can’t help but smirk. Beside me, Hank tries to hide a grin behind her tablet.

  This must be the work of Crystal Lark. Just last Christmas, she set loose a bunch of Santa Clauses that mooned all the teachers. Apparently, Crystal couldn’t resist getting in one more prank before our move to the Lab.

  The Leaguer fades away, leaving Claudine to face a tittering student body. Her perfect smile is still in place, but her eyes are cold. Without a word, she disappears from view.

  “Guess she didn’t have a perky comeback for that,” I whisper to Hank.

  Somehow, Dr. Curtis manages to get the class under control. He launches into a lecture on optical wave propagation, though I can tell he’s not up to his usual geeky standard. He continually trails off, staring around absently. My classmates are equally distracted, murmuring to one another. No one can focus, not with our big move on the horizon.

  Finally, the bell rings. Hank and I gather up our things. As we do, an avatar materializes shimmers into being at the front of the room. It’s Claudine, back with her gross smile.

  “Before you head to your second period,” she says, “I have one final announcement.”

  There’s a smugness in her voice, like she’s about to drop a pair of pocket aces. Hank and I exchange uneasy looks.

  “As you know,” Claudine says, “the Anti-American League continues to threaten our nation. The safety and security of the Global family is of paramount concern to me and my uncle. In an effort to maintain the highest level of security in our new compound, residents will have no access to electronic devices that connect to the outside world. That includes all cell phones, tablets, and Vex sets.”

  9: Attack

  Claudine’s announcement hits me like a bullet between the eyes. I sit down hard on top of the desk.

  No Vex means no Gun.

  “We’ll of course have top-of-the-line lab computers, but none will have access to the Internet or Vex,” Claudine says. “I’m sure you will all be grateful for the opportunity to explore other recreational activities, such as hopscotch and dodgeball. Have a great day, everyone. See you tomorrow!” With one last blinding-white smile, her avatar disappears.

  Silence. The faces of the kids around me express everything from horror to rage to indignation.

  My world has been reduced to one fact: No Vex, no Gun.

  I can practically hear Claudine raking in the chips. Was this simple retaliation for the prank, or had she and Mr. Winn been planning this all along?

  The classroom dissolves in angry buzzing. Students flow out the door and clump in the halls. The phrase I hear repeatedly is, “They can’t do this.” Numb with shock, I let Hank propel me outside.

  No Vex, no Gun. No Vex, no Gun.

  I look up and find myself standing in a lopsided circle with Hank and Billy, who somehow found us in the milling mass of students. Daruuk Malhotra, his black hair tousled to stylish perfection, glides by, talking to himself. He’s another third-year student.

  “I didn’t spend the last two years building my kingdom just to abandon it,” he says, smacking his right fist into his left palm. “I won’t stand for this idakarin tyranny.”

  “Your kingdom?” Hank asks.

  Daruuk looks up and drifts into our circle.

  “You are looking at the reigning emperor of Andala,” he says.

  “Is that a role-playing world?” Hank says.

  “It’s the role-playing world,” Daruuk says. “I went to great lengths to establish my rule.”

  I went to great lengths to get into the Cube and find a training partner.

  “Do you know what will happen if I abdicate?” Daruuk says, deadly serious. “Order will collapse. War will swallow the land. I can’t let that happen. My subjects are depending on me.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got a huge problem on your hands,” I say. No Vex, no Gun.

  “You
r sarcasm is not appreciated, Hom,” Daruuk says.

  “We don’t have to obey the law,” Billy says.

  All three of us look at him in surprise. Suddenly the center of attention, Billy hunches his shoulders and tilts his head, hiding behind his shaggy bangs.

  “Laws are just sort of a guideline,” he mumbles. “That’s what my uncle always says.”

  “Long, you are brilliant,” Daruuk says. He lowers his voice. “We have to make our own Vex modem.”

  “How?” I ask, snatching this flimsy sliver of hope.

  Daruuk dry-washes his hands, grinning. He casts his eyes over the student populace; more and more kids congregate in the halls, anger snowballing around us.

  “Global will check our luggage and confiscate all electronics,” Daruuk says. “That means we have to work together. Each of us needs to smuggle in a different component, something small that can be hidden in the luggage.” His head swivels to me. “Hom, you’re in charge of an ultra-capacitor. Got it?”

  “Sure,” I say. “What’s an ultra-capacitor look like?”

  “No time to explain,” Daruuk says, waving a dark-skinned hand. “Look it up. Simmons. I want you to take one goggle from a Vex set. Long, you’re in charge of the other goggle.” He straightens, looking down his nose at us. “Today marks the birth of the Virtual High School Underground. We will vanquish the matter at hand.”

  With that, Daruuk ducks into the crowd and corners Alexi Ivanov, another third-year student.

  “I forget how . . . eccentric he is,” Hank says, looking after Daruuk.

  “Where am I supposed to get an ultra-capacitor?” I say. Daruuk can walk around speaking in tongues for all I care, so long as he can organize our miniature student rebellion.

  “I’ll get the ultra-capacitor,” Hank says. “You get a goggle.”

  “Right. Okay.” Gun is not lost to me yet. I follow Daruuk with my eyes. He and Alexi make their way through the third-years, presumably recruiting others to our cause.

  Dr. Curtis comes out of his classroom, taking in the milling students over the rims of his bifocals.

  “Alright kids,” he calls. “Everyone off to your next class. Go on!”

  Other teachers join him in the corridor, breaking up our groups and herding us into motion.

  “This is better than a hack,” Hank says, her eyes bright. “If anyone can pull this off, it’s Daruuk. He’s one of the best engineers this school has.”

  “I’m surprised you’re agreeing to help,” I say. “We are breaking a Global rule.”

  “Idiotic rules are different,” Hank replies. “I can make an exception for those.”

  I nod, feeling much better than I did ten minutes ago. You can’t pack a bunch of geniuses into a small space, piss them off, then not expect them to do anything about it.