MARCO’S BODY GLIDES IN A WIDE arc across the sky. He lands right in the middle of the herd of mammoths at the watering hole.
“No!” I roar, soaring toward the summit, bracing my brain for the alien’s touch.
I land at the very edge of the cliff. An enormous silver spaceship is mere paces away. The alien is perched on top, arms outstretched. Even with my gloves, I am absolutely no match for this guy.
Leaping onto the spaceship, I tackle him.
As soon as my body touches the alien’s damp skin, a wave of emotion fills me. Surprise . . . confusion . . . anxiety.
These aren’t my feelings. They’re his. And somehow I have the upper hand. It’s like he has no clue how to deal with physical contact.
I slam my fist against his face and knee him in the belly. He struggles beneath me, trying to squirm his way out. Even though he’s twice my size, I have the advantage. I press my palms against his wet warm skin and pin his green head to the metal.
Even as I pound him, the connection between us intensifies. We’re linking in some way, like Mira and me in the Ezone. My heart beats in sync with his. Our emotions start to blend.
And again I hear the word.
Leave.
No! I will not listen to this guy. This guy who spent the last twenty minutes attacking my friends. This guy who just tossed Marco, probably to his death.
Leave.
“No!” I shout at him. “You leave!”
He vanishes.
Oh no. I didn’t mean it that way. He must have bounded. I push myself up and look around. No alien. I stand and scan the area. No aliens across the river or in the valley. No aliens anywhere.
The ground quakes, knocking me off balance.
Wait a second. I’m not standing on the ground.
I’m on a spaceship. And it’s lifting.
Oh no. I’ve got to get out of here.
The ship pitches forward, and I land on my belly. I scramble to the edge and grab on as we glide forward off the cliff.
This was definitely not part of the plan. My throat feels like one of those nasty tofu dogs is lodged inside. There’s not enough room to breathe.
The valley spreads beneath me as the ship flies higher.
Think, Jasper. How are you going to get off this ship?
I’ll have to bound.
I tap in and begin to gather my atoms.
And then suddenly I can’t. I’m blocked. The ship begins to spin. Slowly at first, then faster.
Oh no. They’ve lifted the shields. They’re preparing to bound, which means I can’t bound out.
What on earth am I going to do? Even if I survive their bound by clinging to the edge of this ship, who knows where I’ll end up? I could be clear across the galaxy with these aliens!
In the fields below, some of the hovers are speeding away. They look like toys from this high up.
I suppose I could jump. I still have my pack, but it’s a long way down.
What would Marco do?
I push to stand, squeeze my grips, and run full speed off the edge.
The whirling vortex beneath the ship grabs me and swirls me around. No matter how hard I direct my intention, the force of the motor in my blast pack is no match for the downward spiral of air. And even if I clear the shield, there’s no way I can open a quantum port while getting tossed around like this.
The wind stings my skin and pulls at my pack. The ship spins faster every second. At this rate, I’ll be torn apart in a matter of moments.
I suck in air but still can’t breathe. Maybe the air is too thin this high. No, I’m just panicking. Hyperventilating.
Calm down, Jasper. You can handle this.
The twisting air drills down like the funnel of a tornado. My only shot is to stop fighting and let myself drift along. Hopefully, the spiral’s strength will fizzle out as it approaches the ground, and then I can break free. Otherwise, the combination of the spinning air and gravity will bring me to a quick end.
I try to relax and float along with the air current, conserving my energy for the moment I need it. Every few turns I test my pack. I still can’t break free.
At least I’m not as high anymore.
The spaceship rises above me—a great disk of spinning metal both wider and thinner than any ship in the Earth Force fleet.
And then there’s me, the enemy soldier falling in its wake.
None of this makes sense. Those aliens have far superior technology. They could have annihilated us.
A single word rings in my mind: Leave.
I test my straps. A slight resistance, then a bit more. With all my energy focused on the straps, I force free of the vortex.
Shocked by the sudden switch, I drop several meters before regaining control. The fierce wind fights for my pack. I grit my teeth and push on. The connection with my brain is laser-sharp. Slowly, the animals in the valley grow from miniature to life-size as I continue my descent.
I soar to the field where Mira waits for me. She almost tackles me with the force of her hug. I bury my head in her shoulder. I wish she had some energy to feed into me. But she’s just as exhausted as I am.
The spinning vortex of air reaches the ground, clouding the valley with dirt and debris.
Mira and I stand hand in hand and gaze up at the enormous spaceship. The ship blocks the starlight, and the sky is dark with dust. Even though it’s afternoon, it feels like twilight.
The ship begins to change. The wide silver circle collapses and folds, shrinking in diameter as it spins, until it is no bigger than one of our own quantum ships. A silver ball in the sky. It’s there. And then it’s gone.
They bounded. And with their departure, the starlight returns.
Maybe this is over. A glimmer of hope sneaks into my chest. I squeeze Mira’s hand, and she squeezes back. We walk toward the remaining hovers, where they’re loading the wounded for transport back to the mines.
Then a strange sound fills the valley, and the ground begins to shake. Up ahead, a rolling cloud filled with strange forms tumbles across the land, heading right toward us and the hovers.
The wildeboars. They’re charging. All one million of them.
The spaceship must have agitated the herd and incited a stampede. The hovers are in their course. They’ll be trampled! I bolt in that direction, but there’s not enough time to get the others to safety. The herd will be upon them in seconds.
A sound trickles into my brain. I cringe, bracing for the return of the aliens’ high-pitched wail, but this sound is different. An achingly familiar, melancholy note merges with the next note and the next until the entire valley is filled with the most penetrating music I’ve ever heard.
Mira’s hands are raised in the air. She moves her fingers in a pattern that resonates with rhythm and reason. Her chin is lifted to the rays of starlight. Wisps of loose hair crown her head in a halo.
The sounds are emanating from Mira. From her gloves. She’s playing music, just like she did in our pod room.
Her face is strained, pulled, as her music grows more complex, the harmonies more sophisticated. We’re back in the music room, her delicate body swaying and bending with the emotion of the notes. My heart aches from the sound. I feel like weeping and jumping for joy at the same time. And it’s working. The wildeboars come in their cloud of dust, but they’re disoriented and sluggish. The music is affecting them, too.
But it’s not working fast enough. The wildeboars are still closing the gap to the hovers faster than the Bounders can escape. It isn’t any use. There just isn’t enough time.
Then I feel her. Mira. Inside my brain.
Play!
Of course. As Mira’s music moves through me, I let my own notes rise up and force them through my fingertips. Our music rises together and fills the Paleo Planet.
The wildeboars come, but slower still. New sounds join our chorus. Some of the cadets must have tapped into our song.
I chance a glance back. Most of the hovers have left. A few load their last pass
engers. And one waits. For us. Waters stands at the helm and waves his arms.
The wildeboars have slowed enough. If we use our packs, we’ll make it before the stampede overtakes us. “Fly for the hovers!” I yell.
I let my notes drop off and pull Mira’s hand. “We’ve done it! Let’s go!”
She won’t open her eyes. Her music swells again, but her notes are strained. She’s so tired. I can’t leave her.
Still the herd comes. I peek back at the hovers. All but one have left. And the one that’s still here is gliding forward. They’re coming for us.
The wildeboars are closing the gap. “Mira, we need to go! Now!”
The hover is nearly here. And so are the wildeboars. I wrap my arms around Mira. I hope I’m strong enough to throw her aboard. The dust cloud reaches us.
And then Mira vanishes. And the music stops.
And all is quiet except the sound of thundering hooves.
“Mira!” I yell.
Waters grabs my arms and yanks me onto the bow of the hover.
“Mira!” My screams scrape against my throat. Waters holds me in a vise grip, but I pull against him. “Mira!”
“She’s gone, Jasper,” Waters says.
“Nooo!” I can’t believe it. She was in my arms seconds before. And I failed. She died for us. All I had to do was pull her onto the hover, and I failed.
I surge again, nearly dragging Waters off the bow with me. Beneath us, the wildeboars pass. Fast. Without the music, there’s nothing to subdue them.
“Stop!” Lucy slaps my face. “Snap out of it, Jasper. She bounded, okay? She’s not here.”
She bounded? I had Mira in my arms, and then she was gone. Could that be it? Could she have gotten away?
Cole grabs my legs and helps Waters haul me into the belly of the hover. I collapse onto the seat next to Lucy.
Waters yells something at the Tunneler, and the hover speeds for the mines.
“You’re sure about Mira?”
“Absolutely,” Lucy says, squeezing my hand.
I shake uncontrollably. I’ve never been so exhausted. “What about Marco?”
“He’s in bad shape,” she says, “but he’s alive. Waters sent him back to the mines.” She takes my other hand. “We’re safe now.”
“Safe?” I say. “We’re not safe. The aliens may still be out there.”
“We heard the report from the base,” Cole says. “There is no longer any trace of the aliens in this star system, and they were preparing to raise the shields.”
Waters crouches before us. “You kids have some explaining to do, but there’s no time now. I promise you, as soon as we get to the mines, you’re loading onto the craft and leaving the planet. I have a responsibility to keep you safe.” Waters runs a dirty hand through his hair. “Where is Mira?”
No one responds.
“Look, I saw her bound. I need to know where she went.”
Still no one responds.
“Now!” Waters shouts.
“We don’t know,” Lucy says.
“Jasper, think!” Waters says. “Where did Mira go?”
There’s only one place she would have bounded, even though it’s a galaxy away. “The Ezone.”
Waters kept his word. As soon as we reached the mines, they loaded us onto the passenger craft to return to the space station. When Tunnelers wheeled Marco in on a stretcher, I tried to talk to him, but Malaina Suarez waved me back. She directed him into a side room with some other cadets who were injured in the attack.
I join Cole in the back row of the craft and collapse onto the seat next to him. I’m not sure where Lucy is, but I’m too tired to find her anyway. I don’t have the energy to talk or even listen to her talk to me.
Once we clear the atmosphere, I flip around in my chair. The Paleo Planet looks just like Earth must have looked millions of years ago. More green. More green because we haven’t built any cities or blasted through any mountains or decimated any forests. More green because the temperature is lower and photosynthesis is working and the ground hasn’t been peeled back to reach its ore. Or actually, I’m forgetting the occludium mines. I guess that is starting to happen on the Paleo Planet, too.
As we make the shift to FTL, I remember how Earth looked when we took off for the space station. All my nerves about the EarthBound Academy were momentarily replaced with a pure sense of awe at the majesty of our planet. I feel none of that awe gazing down at the Paleo Planet. It is many things: a mine, a future tourist destination, a target for an alien enemy. But nothing that inspires awe. It occurs to me then. When the aliens see Earth, they don’t see something awe-inspiring. In fact, with the clutter and waste and ruin, I shudder at what it might look like through their lenses.
The flight back seems to take twice as long, not to mention the craft smells awful. Who thought it was a good idea to trick Regis and his loser friends into drinking tons of pomagranana juice? When we finally glide past the gunmen and coast into the hangar, Gedney and Mira are there to greet us. The knot in my chest unties when I see Mira. Waters had confirmed she’d made it to the Ezone, but I’m happy to see her with my own eyes.
The other cadets head for the dormitories, but I’m too worried about Marco to sleep. I’m sure Ridders will bust me for skipping out on head count, but I don’t care. I head to the med room viewing balcony that Marco and I found on our first night. I sit in the second row and rest my head and hands on the back of the chair in front of me.
In the med room below, Marco lies on a bed in the corner. His head is wrapped in a big bandage, and one of his legs is suspended in a harness. The Tunneler who treated me when I was in the med room checks his vitals. Marco isn’t the only patient. The room is filled with cadets injured in the battle.
So this is what happens in war. There are injuries. There are casualties. And in our case, there are kids who are casualties.
I am so not ready for this.
Tomorrow is the last day of the Bounders’ first tour of duty. After the closing ceremony, we’re leaving the space station. Earth might be scarred, but it’s home. And I desperately need to be home.
Maybe Mom will make chocolate chip cookies.
“Jasper.” A quiet voice interrupts my food fantasy.
Waters stands in the aisle. His face is flushed, and his hair sticks up at funny angles. He looks more like Gedney than Gedney does sometimes.
“How’s he doing?” Waters nods at the glass. Below, the Tunneler hooks Marco up to an IV.
“I’m not sure,” I say. “He looks pretty banged up.”
Waters slips into the chair beside me and takes a deep breath. The signs are clear. We’re headed for a serious talk. I’ll probably have to fess up to the whole mess with the alien in the cellblock. I can’t muster the energy to be nervous. So much has happened since then.
“Gedney says this is where you first spotted our prisoner,” he says.
I can’t tell if he’s mad or not, so I just nod.
“Relax, Jasper. You’re not in trouble. On the contrary, we owe an awful lot to you. You probably saved the lives of all the cadets today. You probably saved my life.”
I don’t really deserve the credit. Everyone pitched in. “Marco held off the aliens, and Cole and Lucy coordinated with the other Bounders. Mira slowed the wildeboars so the others could escape. If it wasn’t for her, we would have been trampled.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. Mira is special. But you’re special, too. She relies on you. And so do the others. Mira alone is nothing compared to Mira and you together. When the whole pod is involved, you kids really are limitless.”
I shrug. Maybe Waters is right. The others do rely on me. But I’m a floundering mess where Mira is concerned.
“Mira is special,” I say. “She communicated with the alien prisoner—you know, brain to brain.”
Waters runs his fingers through his hair, leaving even more of it sticking up. “Oh, kid, I don’t want to know that.”
He drops his head. A l
ong moment passes.
“Back up,” he says, lifting his eyes to mine. “I really didn’t mean that. You should tell me that kind of stuff, Jasper. You need to tell me. And you can talk to Gedney. But I don’t want you to tell anyone else. That information is very dangerous in the wrong hands.”
“So I guess I shouldn’t tell anyone that I communicated with the aliens, too.”
Waters’s eyes open wide. “You did?”
“Yep, on the Paleo Planet, although they didn’t make any sense. All they said was ‘leave.’ ”
At first Waters looks confused, then a strange realization crosses his face, and he shakes his head. “That might make more sense than you think. I bet they’re not very happy we’re mining on the Paleo Planet and disturbing the native humanoids.”
“But I thought they attacked the humanoids.”
“No,” Waters says. “In fact, the whole battle might have been about protecting the humanoids from us.”
“Is that why the Tunnelers were so anxious when Sheek made us go in for a closer look at the humanoids? Had the aliens attacked before?”
Waters shrugs. “I’m not sure. The information hasn’t all come out yet. But it seems clear it wasn’t the first time the Youli visited the Paleo Planet.”
“The who-lee?”
“The Youli. That’s what the aliens are called.”
The Youli: green bipedal aliens with huge pulsating heads who can penetrate your brain. The prisoner in the cellblock. The guy I tackled on top of the spaceship. The aliens with the advanced technology. Our enemies.
The Youli.
“Can I ask you something?” I say to Waters.
“Of course.”
“Why didn’t the Youli just kill us? I mean, they must be able to, right?”
Waters stands and crosses to the window with the one-way glass. “There’s a lot about the Youli you don’t know and I can’t share. Let’s just say the battle lines are a bit blurred.”
Great. More secrets.
We stay silent for a while. In the med room below, a doctor checks on Marco, running scans and inserting medication into his IV line.
“What do you think we should do about the closing ceremony tomorrow?” Waters asks, returning to his chair. “As first-place pod, you’re supposed to free-bound in front of the entire Academy, but Marco clearly won’t be up to it.”
Bounders Page 24