Mira steps away from the table and opens her port. Seconds later, she bounds.
I expect to feel something, anything, inside my mind, but I don’t. Mira could be anywhere—or nowhere—but my brain can’t find her. I hold my breath.
“Mira made it,” the lab assistant says over Waters’s com pin.
Thank goodness. I’m about to volunteer to go next, but Marco beats me to it. He hardly waits for Gedney to reset the system before he presses his palms into the BPS.
I let Cole go after Marco, because I can tell he needs to get it over with. Then Lucy elbows her way in front. Before I know it, it’s just me, Water, and Gedney gathered around the BPS.
My gloved hands hover above the sensors, but I can’t bring myself to press down. Why is it okay to use kids to test dangerous technology? Two days in a row I’m the test subject of the most classified technology on Earth. It’s not okay, and I want Waters to know it.
I lift my right hand and rub the back of my head. “New technology, huh?”
Waters is going to be furious, but I don’t care. He said Gedney would figure it out eventually.
Gedney stares at me with a perplexed look on his face. I keep my hand on the back of my neck and meet his gaze with a grin. His expression shifts as the truth slowly dawns on him. First he questions, then he processes, then he spins on Waters.
“Jon! Tell me you didn’t do this!”
Waters shoots me a nasty look. I smile back.
“You know it had to be done,” he says to Gedney.
“Those patches were not ready! We have no idea what they can do! And we are completely unaware of the side effects!”
“Well, we’ll find out soon,” Waters says.
“Over my dead and decaying corpse!” Gedney shouts.
Maybe I should be a bit freaked about side effects, but this is awesome! I have never seen Gedney so mad!
“I will take that patch off his head this very day!” he continues.
“You won’t,” Waters says. “And you might ask Jasper if that’s what he wants. I think he’s already experienced some of the more positive side effects of the patch.”
The perplexed look returns for a second, only to be cast aside as Gedney throws his hands in the air. “Mira, too? You didn’t!”
“I had to,” Water says with a sad smile.
Gedney braces himself against the table. He shakes his head. “Has she communicated?”
When Waters doesn’t answer, Gedney turns to me. “Jasper? Has she?”
“No,” I lie, remembering Mira’s words from last night: It’s just you and me now.
I place my hands on the sensors, build my port, and bound.
We spend the afternoon bounding to BPS coordinates. By the time dinner rolls around, we must have bounded to every room in the entire lab complex, including storage closets, the garbage bay, and even the bathrooms. Couldn’t they have picked some better destinations? If we can bound anywhere in the known universe, why do we have to see where Gedney poops?
One thing is for sure: bounding makes me hungry. And when I’m hungry, I’m not capable of thinking about anything else, which tonight is a good thing. Even though we’re dining with Waters, Gedney, and all the lab assistants, I’m able to push out of my mind all thoughts of the secret brain patch and their technology testing ethics and just eat. Pizza. Lots and lots of pizza. I lose count after seven slices.
After dinner, all of us head back to the boys’ bunk room to play cards. When I make a particularly dumb move in the game, something tickles the edge of my brain, almost like static electricity. I shake my head, but it’s there again, a gentle buzz, a little tickle. It feels like a laugh without any noise.
Mira stares at her cards with a colossal grin on her face.
Is she laughing at me?
My brain buzzes again. Now that I know what it is, a smile spreads across my face. Maybe I shouldn’t be so pumped that Mira is laughing at me, but I can’t shake the excitement of our connection.
Lucy looks from me, to Mira, to me again. Then she smirks. “Jasper, you and Mira were out pretty late last night.”
Great. The Jasper–Mira rumors are starting up again, and we haven’t even met up with the other cadets. How am I supposed to stop the stories without breaking my promise to Waters that we’ll keep the patches secret? And how can I keep everything from my pod mates in the first place? We’re supposed to have a pact.
Wait a second . . . Waters only said we couldn’t talk about the brain patches. Maybe there’s a way to cut off the Jasper–Mira talk and clue them in on Waters without breaking my confidentiality agreement.
“Actually, I’m glad you reminded me,” I say. “Mira and I were out late because we were talking with Waters. He didn’t tell us much, but I think we have a head start on our Earth Force information mission.”
“Ace! You’ve been holding back! Give us the goods!” Marco says.
No! Mira’s thoughts flicker in my brain.
I send her a brain message that I’m not going to mention the patches, but I don’t know if she gets it. I’m trying to be discreet, and I’m not too good at brain talk yet.
“Well, like I said, there’s not much to tell.” I shuffle the cards and start to deal. “But he did say that intragalactic relations are far more complicated than we can imagine. And he let one word slip.”
Cole leans forward. “What word?”
“Summit.”
“Summit?” Lucy says. “You mean like mountaintop? What does that have to do with anything?”
Cole hops to his feet. “Summit can also mean meeting. Maybe there’s an important meeting coming up! You’re sure there wasn’t anything else?”
No! No! No!
Got it, Mira. I keep my eyes on the cards, not wanting to look my pod mates in the eyes as I lie. “No, nothing else.”
“Well, that’s a start,” Marco says. “We have to find out everything we can about this summit. Keep digging and share everything we learn. It’s all about the pod now.”
Marco’s words work wonders for my guilt complex. If my pod mates ever find out about the brain patches, they’ll know I made a conscious choice not to tell them.
When I had the chance, I chose Waters over my pod.
The next few days are basically the same—bound, eat, sleep—with a few minutes of free time before bed to hang out. Marco, Cole, and I talk a bit about the summit Waters mentioned and what it might mean. We talk about the Youli war and how we think the admiral plans to use the Bounders in battle. But we mostly chat about other stuff: our favorite levels in Evolution, how awesome it would be if Regis didn’t show up at the EarthBound Academy this tour, bets about how many meals of tofu dogs they’ll feed us at the space station.
Gedney tweaks the BPS. We improve our bounding skills. Waters alternates between being super friendly and being completely distant. Lucy says he’s stressed about having to roll out the BPS under the tight timetable. Marco thinks he’s tired of jumping through hoops for the admiral. Cole says he hasn’t noticed Waters’s split personalities.
I’ve tried to ask Mira about it, but I haven’t had much luck. Sometimes she’ll respond, but it’s usually more of a feeling or an impression than an actual sentence. Other times, she’ll act like she hasn’t heard me. Maybe she hasn’t. Or maybe she’s just not used to communicating.
It’s not like we have that much quality time together. Waters works us all day. And as soon as we break, Mira usually takes off. She’s always needed alone time.
So when Waters or Gedney asks me about the brain patch, I don’t feel bad saying that Mira hasn’t communicated. She keeps pretty quiet. And since that’s what we’re all used to, it’s pretty easy not to think about the little piece of Youli implanted in my neck. It’s also pretty easy not to think about the huge secret I’m keeping from my pod mates.
What’s on everyone’s minds is this: When are we shipping out to the space station? Despite many attempts to get information out of Waters, most initiat
ed by Lucy, he’s refused to say a word. Finally, when we finish training on our fourth day at the labs, Waters announces that we’ll be leaving in the morning.
“Yippee!” Lucy squeals. “I can’t believe it! We’re finally going to see our friends! And the other teachers! And our pod rooms! And the Ezone! I mean, the BEzone is great and all, but the Ezone is where we truly became Bounders!”
“Actually, there’s been another change in plans,” Waters says. “You won’t be spending your tour at the space station.”
Huh? We’re not going to the space station?
“What do you mean?” Cole’s voice breaks, and he jumps to his feet.
“Take a seat, Mr. Thompson. You’ll be with the other cadets. In fact, you’ll meet up with them tomorrow. They’re already at your destination. Gedney and I will join you there in a few days, just as soon as we put the finishing touches on the BPS.”
“No more secrets, Mr. Waters,” Marco says. “Where are we going?”
“Tell them, Gedney,” Waters continues.
“The EarthBound Academy will be training cadets on Gulaga this tour,” Gedney says.
“Wait a minute . . . where?” I ask.
“The Tunneler home planet,” Waters says. “The admiral decided the best way to train you is to simulate missionlike conditions on an alien planet. They’ve structured a pod competition on the frozen, rocky surface of Gulaga that will challenge your skills in teamwork, strategy, and, frankly, survival. Most of the cadets are already there. Shortly after you arrive, the Tundra Trials will begin. Now get packed. You leave first thing in the morning.”
6
SLAMMED!
Stuffed!
Tofu-Puffed!
My lungs leap at the next breath, and I pull the sweet, cool air into my chest.
The best thing I can say about the ride in the bounding ship is that we made it. I’m glad Earth Force isn’t training me to be a conventional pilot. Sure, I get the creepy crawlies when I bound with my gloves, but that’s a lot better than all the puffing and stuffing. Plus, I can never ride in a ship without thinking of the Incident at Bounding Base 51 and the lost aeronauts.
“Welcome to the Earth Force Gulagan Space Dock,” a voice blasts over the internal speakers.
The tick tick tick of the spider crawlers mean the hatch is opening. As we unbuckle our harnesses, our pilot tells us we have thirty minutes to catch the descent, and that our luggage will be brought down on a later ride.
Catch the descent? That means we have half an hour before the next space elevator trip from the docking platform to the planet’s surface. I have to admit, I’m pretty freaked about the space elevator. I’ve seen it on the webs, and we watched a vid about it on Cole’s tablet last night once we knew we were headed to Gulaga, but something about it gives me the creeps. It’s like a giant finger pointing into space. I can’t help thinking how easy it would be to snap it in two.
As I climb out of the bounding ship, there’s no mistaking that we’re very far from Earth. It’s not the building materials, or the ships, or the equipment that look particularly alien. It’s the company. Aside from a few human Earth Force officers, the flight deck is crowded with Tunnelers. Dozens of Tunnelers scurry about, hunched forward with their long snouts angled toward the ground. Some of them have Earth Force uniforms, like the Tunnelers at the space station, but most of them wear brown sacks. Okay, I’m sure they’re not actual sacks, but they look like big burlap bags flipped upside down with holes for the Tunnelers’ furry heads and arms. I’m no fashionista like Lucy, but I would never step outside my apartment wearing something that ugly.
I climb down the scaffolding and get lost in the crowd of fur. They busy about the flight deck, shuffling around with their signature hunch, talking in their guttural grunts, checking readings, performing maintenance.
A growl sounds at the back of my head: Kleek. Arrrgh. Garragh. Korreek.
I spin around and come face-to-face with a sack-wearing Tunneler.
Her voice box translates: “Please come with me for your descent to the planet.” She waves her arms, herding us off the flight deck.
Cole wastes no time hitting her up for information. “What is the maximum velocity of the elevator?”
“I don’t want to know,” I say before her voice box kicks in. I jog ahead to walk with Marco and Mira in the front of our group.
Inside, the space dock is a cross between the small bounding bases we’ve visited and the huge space station where the EarthBound Academy was headquartered last tour. Outside is a different story. Instead of having a bunch of smaller buildings connected by a tube system, the dock is all housed in one giant building that’s anchored to Gulaga by the space elevator shaft.
Our Tunneler escort hurries us through the halls. With every turn, we pick up more people—Tunnelers and humans—everyone rushing to the space elevator. We move with the crowd until our escort stops short. She lines us up against the wall and waves us into a huddle.
“We are about to enter the elevator bay,” she says through her voice box. “For some, this can cause feelings of vertigo or general sensory overload. I am warning you in advance. Take time to adjust upon entering.”
Sensory overload? Was that warning directed at me personally? It sure feels like it. I can barely stand the florescent lights and reflective chrome in the space station. How am I going to tolerate something known to cause sensory overload? I’m not even sure what vertigo is, but I bet I’m candidate number one.
The Tunneler presses on, but I let the others pass. As the doors slide open, I brace.
When I catch a glimpse of the elevator bay, I grab the doorframe and hang on for dear life because one more step and I’ll fall through the cosmos.
Calm down, Jasper. Deep breaths. I squeeze my eyes closed and gulp air. Slow. Steady. Just like Mom taught you. Air in. Air out. Repeat.
Tunnelers stream through the door, grumbling and bumping my shoulder.
You’re okay. You’re not going to tumble through space. All those people went through that door, and they’re just fine. You can do this.
I soften my eyelids to a squint. The elevator bay is a huge octagonal room made of clear plastic. Stepping into the room is like stepping into space itself.
Lucy is beside me, another victim of sensory overload. She clasps my hand. “On the count of three?”
I nod. When we reach three, I take a tiny step. My stomach drops to my feet. I feel like I’m falling. I step back and grab the wall.
Grunts rise up behind me. There’s a bottleneck at the door, and Lucy and I are making it worse. I may not speak Gulagan, but I know they’re yelling at us. A few shouts in English make it crystal clear.
“Keep moving!”
“I’ve got to catch this! Go!”
“What the . . . ?”
I need to move, only nothing’s moving. I can’t even get my lungs to move right, and any second now that’s going to cause a mighty big problem.
Come on.
Mira? I search the elevator bay and spot her across the room.
You can do it.
Geez. I’d rather not have an audience inside my head for my sensory meltdown. Talk about embarrassing. But also possibly helpful? I feel a bit braver and a little less queasy. Maybe Mira zapped me with a special brain enhancer, the courage variety pack, the sensory overload antidote. All I know is I’m making jokes (if only in my mind), and I no longer feel like I’m reeling through space.
I gingerly step farther into the room. I will myself not to look down, but I last only a second before dropping my gaze to the clear plastic floor. Hundreds of kilometers below me is Gulaga. Seeing the planet grounds me, probably like seeing the actual ground from my building’s elevator at home.
Long, winding crevices crisscross the planet’s rocky plains. Where the elevator reaches the surface, a blotch of green dots the brown ground like a spot of spilled paint. That must be the aboveground leaf system for the subterranean tuber gardens. Almost all the Tunnelers
on the planet live within fifty kilometers of those gardens in the metropolis of Gulagaven. The rest of the planet is too cold to support plant or animal life, although there are lots of legends about the creatures that prowl the darkest tundra of Gulaga.
Lucy, now a pace behind me, grabs my arm. “Doesn’t this remind you of our first time in the Ezone? I couldn’t get my bearings, and we got tangled up and tumbled to the floor. Eventually you pulled it together and helped me up. This is just like that, right?”
Lucy is freaked. Okay, we’re both freaked. But maybe if I focus more on helping her than on hyperventilating, it will benefit both of us.
“Right, Jasper?” she asks again, through gasps of breath. “Right?”
“It’s kind of like the Ezone,” I say as I link my arm with hers and bring us one step at a time farther into the giant elevator bay. “It’s really disorienting, that’s for sure. But it’s also incredibly cool.” Another few steps take us solidly inside. “Don’t you think?”
Four hallways lead to the elevator bay at right angles, like the directional signals of a compass. The shaft is in the center of the room surrounded by banks of monitors and other equipment. The rest of the bay circles the shaft like a donut constructed of clear plastic, so no matter where we look, we see open space or the planet beneath us.
Lucy hasn’t answered my question. The fact that she isn’t talking is completely un-Lucylike and a very bad sign. I spin to face her, taking both her hands in mine. “Hey! Just think what all your friends at home will say when you tell them about this! What about that agent? I bet he’ll definitely want to represent you once he hears you’ve ridden on the Gulagan space elevator.”
Her eyes are glassy and unfocused. “I just can’t do it. Maybe you can, but I can’t. We’ll be expected to bound to places like this! What if I miss, Jasper? What if I don’t open my port in the right place and I end up out there?!” She waves her hands at the floor, the walls, the entire windowed elevator bay revealing the eternity of space.
The Tundra Trials Page 5