They crack up again.
“We thought you might want a midnight snack,” Hakim says.
“Don’t forget you started this, Brute Brain!” Marco says. “We’ll get you when you least expect it.”
“Is that a threat, Romero?” Regis asks.
“No. It’s a promise.”
The nearing footsteps of a plebe walking a final patrol lap quiet us. Soon, the only sounds in the burrow are the hum of snores. I try to sleep, but I can’t. Whenever I close my eyes, I feel like the muddy walls are collapsing, like I’m buried alive.
And I still feel like bugs are crawling all over me.
My entire body is tense, like I’m waiting for the next attack. Who needs to worry about the Youli when you’re sleeping two meters away from Regis?
“Hey, Lazy Boy! Get up!” Marco’s voice slips into my brain as I sleep, but it’s not enough to wake me.
His fingers creep along the bottom of my feet. “I think there’s something in your bed!”
I jerk up. “Get it off me!”
“That worked well,” he says.
“Cut it out,” I say. “I had back-to-back nightmares about those bugs. I barely slept.”
“And we barely have any time before breakfast,” he says. “Let’s go!”
The opposite bunks are empty. Regis and friends must have already left. “Cole?”
“He went to talk with Ryan. I left, too, but I’m nice enough to come back for you. Not to mention, we can’t cut any more corners with Ridders, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Go easy on me. I was attacked by a horde of caterpillars last night.”
“About that . . . I have a few ideas for revenge. I’ll fill you in later. Now get dressed.”
I scramble into what I hope are my dailies (where’s Cole when I need him?) and run out of the hovel. I’m just in time. The plebes are lining us up to march out of the burrow.
Then it hits me. We’re going to breakfast, and what did Neeka say? Tubers, fungi, and forage? I’m pretty sure it’s going to be disgusting.
I race to catch up with Lucy and her friends. “Hey!”
“Hey yourself, sleepy head,” she says.
“What’s the real deal with the food?” I’m sure Lucy knows. She has a way of finding out information about almost anything.
“Why? Afraid they’ll make you eat tofu dogs?”
“You were in the market yesterday. I’m afraid it’s going to be a lot worse than tofu.”
“It is,” Lucy’s friend, Annette, says in the standard monotone I remember from last tour. I haven’t seen Annette since arriving at Gulagaven. Something’s different. She’s taller. Or maybe her hair is shorter. Or longer. I’m not sure, but I can’t stop looking.
“Hello?” Lucy says. “Earth to Jasper? What planet are you on? Aren’t you even going to ask any questions?”
“Oh yeah.” That was weird. I’m not usually distractible when it comes to food.
“So?” Lucy has stopped walking and has her hands on her hips.
“So what?”
“Ask your questions!”
“Stop teasing him,” Meggi says, linking her arm with mine. “Walk with me, Jasper.”
As Meggi waves the other girls ahead, they erupt in giggles. Great. I’m the joker of the Bounders again.
“Don’t mind them,” she says. “And don’t think about the food. You’ll go to the cantina. You’ll eat. You’ll be fine.”
We walk out of the burrow and turn left down the hallway, heading the opposite direction of how we arrived yesterday. Everything looks the same, but different. The walls are still made of the muddy stuff, but the ceiling is higher. I can walk comfortably without any fear of bopping my head. My claustrophobia hasn’t been waved away with a magic wand, but it’s not as bad as it was in the narrow tunnels where we met Barrick. Everyone we pass is wearing Earth Force uniforms. There’s not a single Tunneler anywhere.
“What is this place? How come there aren’t any Tunnelers?” I ask Meggi.
“This is the Earth Sector. The Force had it custom built. It’s not home, but it feels a lot less alien than most of Gulaga. They just expanded to add the Bounder Burrow. They wanted the EarthBound Academy to feel just like its original home.”
“What was in our burrow before?”
“Just a regular old burrow, I suppose. The Tunnelers who lived there were relocated.”
“They gave up their home for us?”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Meggi says. “It was just where they slept. I bet they didn’t like being so close to the Earth Sector anyway.”
Maybe not, but still. It makes me uncomfortable that we took someone’s burrow. I don’t think about it long, though, because we’ve arrived at the cantina. The nauseating smells stop me at the door.
“See?” Meggi says. “Just like the space station.”
“Kind of.” Really there’s no mistaking this is Gulaga. Muddy walls? Check. No windows? Check. Disgusting food? Check. But in some ways, Meggi’s right. They must have imported the tables from the same place as the space station. I’d know that funky orange color anywhere. The cafeteria line looks exactly like the one at the station, too. And disgusting food is not really a distinguishing factor.
“Let’s eat.” Meggi leads me to the line where we pick up familiar plastic trays and wait our turn.
At the first station, a plebe lobs a purple blob onto my plate that smells an awful lot like overcooked potatoes.
I scrunch up my nose and turn away. “What is that?”
“It’s not bad,” Meggi says. “It tastes kind of like yam, but a little more earthy.”
Does she really think that sounds appetizing?
The next plebe slices a thick slab of something black and slimy and slides it next to the purple blob on my tray.
“Some cadets think that tastes like a mushroom,” Meggi says, “but it’s a tad too chewy for me.”
Another promising review.
The last station yields a scoop of thick brownish-green mush that smells like cooked collard greens soaked in vinegar.
“Let me guess, that’s forage,” I say. “What even is forage?”
“Did you see those big leaves above the surface when you came down on the space elevator?”
I nod.
“Forage,” she says. “You may want to plug your nose while you eat it.”
“Yum.” I take my tray and look out over the sea of indigo uniforms gathered around the orange tables. Marco waves me over. I thank Meggi and head in that direction.
When I set my tray down, I see that Marco is halfway done with his breakfast.
“Not gonna lie to you, J,” Marco says. “Just get it over with.”
I stare at my plate and try to convince myself to dig in. After all, it could be worse. I didn’t spot any creepy crawlies in the food. There’s nothing that’s actually alive on my plate.
My hand shakes as I lift my fork with a bite of the purple tuber. As soon as I place it in my mouth, I want to spit it out. It literally tastes like eating dirt. Maybe this is what they made the muddy walls from. The tuber is so versatile it’s both an adhesive wall coating and a food source.
The mushroom is worse. I can’t even spear it with my fork. It keeps sliding all around my tray. When I finally slice a small chunk and get it in my mouth, I nearly puke. It slips around my mouth, making it hard to chomp on. When I get it between my teeth, I can’t even chew it. It’s like gnawing on a vaguely mushroom-flavored rubber ball coated in slime.
This is not going well, and I haven’t even tried the worst-looking food on the tray.
Marco watches my attempt at eating with a crooked smile.
“Do you find this amusing?” I ask.
“Just eat it,” he says. “You need the energy.”
I take a deep breath then slowly exhale. Let’s get this over with. I scoop some forage onto my spoon and shove it in my mouth.
Oh. My. Nastiness.
I can’t describe what’s i
n my mouth. It’s like eating the stringy part of celery rolled into a massive ball. All I can picture are those huge furry leaves. It’s like that fur is tickling the roof of my mouth.
I gag and slam my lips closed to stop from puking.
I gag again.
Up come the tuber and the fungus.
I should swallow them back down. I don’t want to throw up.
But that would mean swallowing the furry celery ball.
I won’t do it.
I just can’t do it.
I’m going to . . .
I leap from the table and bolt across the cantina, pressing my hands firmly against my mouth. I skid to the garbage can, grab the rim, and vomit everything in my belly into the trash.
My knees are week as I stagger out of the cantina and into the narrow hallway of the Earth Sector. Geez. The walls feel like they’re closing in around me, and the ceilings here are higher than almost anywhere in Gulagaven.
With the double-punch combo of food and claustrophobia, I’m not sure how I’m going to make it this tour. Add in our ultra-awful bunkmates and the supersize serving of guilt I can’t shake thanks to Waters and his stupid brain patch, and this is shaping up to be a rough tour.
I don’t know how long I’ve been slumped on the ground with my head between my knees when my pod mates finally find me. They’re all charged up and chattering.
“There you are!” Lucy says. “Let’s go! We don’t want to be late!”
The hall spins as I slowly stand. “Late for what?”
Marco swings an arm around Lucy. “Gossip Gal heard the admiral arrived at the space dock this morning.”
Lucy slaps Marco’s arm. “Don’t call me that, especially if you expect me to hook you up with info.”
“The admiral’s here to kick off the competition,” Cole tells me.
“What competition?” I grab the wall to steady myself.
“That’s the problem with puking at breakfast, Ace,” Marco says. “You miss all the news.”
“Just shut up and tell me,” I say. Thankfully my equilibrium is starting to level off.
“The word is,” Lucy says, gesturing for us to lean closer, “the Tundra Trials are about to begin!”
11
I’M ABOUT TO ASK IF they learned anything more about the Tundra Trials when Ridders blows his whistle. Once we’re lined up outside the cantina, he marches us out of the Earth Sector and down the tunnel headed for the closest chasm. I say a silent prayer that we stay on the path rather than veer for the bridge.
That would be just my luck—tripping on a bridge and plunging to my death in front of the entire EarthBound Academy.
Fortunately, Ridders winds us the long way around. I brush my fingers against the muddy wall to be sure I’m not accidentally creeping closer to the edge.
As we make our way through Gulaga, hundreds of pairs of Tunneler eyes follow us. Just like yesterday, their grunts sound like accusations. Maybe it’s what Marco said—grunting just sounds mad. Maybe not.
Up ahead, Ridders stops in front of a pair of enormous, intricately carved stone doors guarded by a cadre of Earth Force officers. And it’s a good thing, from the looks of it. A crowd of Tunnelers is gathered in front of the wall of officers. And this time, there’s no mistaking that they’re angry. They grunt and shove against the officers who hold them back.
The sound of a voice box mingles with the guttural noises: “That is our sacred space! How dare you!”
Then the command of a nearby officer: “Find the offender and seize that box!”
“Did you hear that?” Cole whispers. “They called this their sacred space.”
“Maybe that’s why it has such fancy doors,” I say.
The doors depict highly detailed scenes. In the first square, the Tunnelers are underground, crouching in a burrow. In the next, a flying object appears in the sky. The narrative continues: the Tunnelers emerge from below; they bow on the ground; an object descends from the stars; someone steps out of a ship onto the planet’s surface. I can’t be sure, but it looks like a human.
“Is that a spaceship?” I ask. “Is this scene depicting first contact?”
“It sure looks like it,” Cole says. “But that doesn’t make much sense. If the Tunnelers were so excited about our arrival that they carved it on their sacred doors, then why are they so upset now with us entering them?”
As if to emphasize Cole’s point, a Tunneler hurls an object at the doors. It hits with a large crack and bursts apart. Yellow goop drips drops down the door, roughly tracing the path of the human visitor descending to the Tunneler surface.
“Cool!” Ryan says. “They must have eggs! Maybe we’ll have some for breakfast later this week.”
I’m about to tell Ryan that his comment was kind of offensive, but then I realize I’d gladly eat eggs if they served them. Finding food I’ll eat here is hard enough; there’s no need to make it worse just on principle.
The officers carve a path through the protestors. Two plebes grab the door handles and haul them open. Eager to escape the angry Tunnelers and their projectile eggs, everyone with the orange EF insignia on their chest rushes the room.
“Whoa,” I say as we step into the huge chamber. It kind of looks like the inside of the Roman Colosseum, if you stretched the top so that it was tall and thin. “What is this place?”
“I think it’s their hall of Parliament,” Cole says.
“You mean their government?” Ryan asks.
“Yes,” Cole says. “But not anymore.”
That’s right. Neeka told us that the Tunnelers no longer have their own government. It’s just Earth Force.
Ridders corrals the Bounders off to one side. He points to carrels along the wall, kind of like the hovels where we sleep. He instructs us to grab our pod mates and find a carrel.
Up here.
Mira? She takes me by surprise. It’s been radio silence since we arrived. I feel kind of guilty, but she hasn’t really been on my mind. I’ve been getting lost in Gulagaven, catching up with the other Bounders, dealing with Regis and the caterpillars. But as soon as I sense her, I know two things: I miss her more than I’d like to admit, and we’ve never really been apart.
I turn my head to scan the carrels, but I already know exactly where to look. I zero in on the middle row, center carrel. A second passes before Mira steps from the shadow of the carrel and fans her fingers in a could-be wave.
“Up there!” I grab Cole and head for the ramp. We pick up Marco along the way. Lucy tries to wave us down to another row, but I ignore her. I slide into the carrel next to Mira.
Hi! I form the word in my brain and think of her. She doesn’t reply, but she lays her fingers next to mine on the bench.
“Smart choice,” Marco says, inspecting our carrel. “If those Tunnelers ever succeed at busting down the doors, we have an easy escape route.” His hand is on the handle of a side door I hadn’t noticed when I first entered the carrel. It leads to a narrow hallway that exits the chamber from the rear.
Down below, Ridders marches to the center of the chamber. When he reaches a podium on the raised stage, every plebe in the chamber snaps to attention. It takes a few seconds for the Bounders to catch on, but soon we swing our hands into salutes.
The podium is so low it must have been built for Tunnelers. Ridders hunches over the microphone. “Attention, cadets and fellow officers: welcome to Gulaga. We are honored that our Tunneler friends have offered to host the EarthBound Academy here on their planet for the second tour of duty. I trust you are adjusting to your accommodations. Training will get under way today. Now for some administrative announcements.”
He pulls a piece of paper from his shirt pocket and continues. He instructs us which bathrooms to use and where we can obtain basic sundries and toiletry items. He reminds us to stay out of certain tunnels unless escorted by a Tunneler officer or junior ambassador. He reviews the timeline for the tour of duty and explains that the EarthBound Academy was moved to Gulaga for
the second tour to focus on field training.
Next, he announces an important staffing change. Like I heard last night in the burrow, Maximilian Sheek has replaced Florine Statton as the Director of Bounder Affairs. Florine, apparently, is focusing on her new EFAN gawk show, In the Flo with Florine Statton, and won’t be coming to the EarthBound Academy this tour.
I don’t catch all of what Ridders says, thanks to a hunger-induced zone-out, but when I tune back in, he’s reading straight from the piece of paper, practically choking on the words. “. . . I am so pleased to introduce a legend in his own time, Maximilian Sheek.”
I bet Sheek wrote that introduction himself.
Sheek enters from the hallway next to our carrel. His hair is all poufed up in its signature style. He walks right to the edge of the row, stops, and poses. He turns his chin from side to side like he’s so used to catching a camera angle that he does it automatically even when there’s no lens in sight.
The chamber erupts in applause, and the cheers don’t let up as Sheek takes his merry time making his way to the podium. When he finally arrives, he poses again, then leans low over the microphone, somehow still managing to look stylish.
“Thank you for your elegant words,” he says. “I am so incredibly humbled, Captain Ridders.” He raises his arms to the crowd. “Did you hear that, cadets? Ridders has been promoted to captain! Let’s share some applause with him!” Sheek claps, and the crowd cheers along as he does that cheek-to-the-camera move again.
“Ooh!” Lucy whispers. “Do you think Ridders will be featured in the annual aeronaut calendar?”
I roll my eyes. Only Lucy could morph into a mega-fangirl that fast.
“Now that he’s a full-fledged aeronaut,” Sheek continues, “and I am oh so stretched in my new role, Captain Ridders will be taking over my pod. Of course, he’ll still have access to my wisdom and know-how in a mentorship capacity.”
Mira slips inside my brain. Yuck.
I laugh out loud, which, fortunately, no one notices since everyone’s clapping.
Double yuck.
“How do you like Gulaga? Isn’t this absolutely, indubitably fantastic?!” Sheek says, alternating his pose with every clause.
The Tundra Trials Page 9