Alienation (19 page)

They passed through a set of double doors and into a passage that looked like an acrylic tube. It cut through an enormous aquarium, just like the shark encounter at Sea World. Exotic marine life swam overhead on either side as the cadets watched in wonder. There was a school of fish that looked a bit like barracuda. They were long and thin, with erratic teeth that poked out from their jaws like quills on a porcupine. Their scales were bright red, like the skin of an apple, with yellow striping that cut horizontally across their snakelike bodies.

The tube opened into a viewing theatre that was as big as two gymnasiums sitting side by side. There was a wall of glass that was at least a hundred feet wide by thirty feet high, and inside a forest of kelp swayed back and forth in the current as strange creatures swam in and out of view.

“Welcome to the Jules Verne Aquatic Center,” Lohr said, as waitstaff in crisp white tuxedo jackets crisscrossed the floor carrying trays laden with food. “Tonight you'll dine as our guests, but don't get used to the service or the food. As Director Romero said, we're going to push you to your breaking point and beyond. So enjoy it while you can.” He paused, looking each cadet in the eye to drive the point home. “Some of you are going to flame out, but others will thrive. And when we're done with you, you will lead us to victory over the shapeshifters. Now go and eat.”

Strange music cascaded through the speakers as the cadets made their way inside. It was both beautiful and haunting, as though it had been composed in another world. The center of the floor was set with rows of round tables covered in white linen, and there were buffets laden with food along the outer walls. As they walked passed, Colt saw rice pilaf with slivered almonds, asparagus spears, and a carving station with prime rib, au jus, and creamy horseradish sauce. But there were also foods he had never seen before—sautéed mushroom caps that were bright orange with yellow spots, wriggling creatures that looked like tiny squid, and fruits with spiny husks and juicy flesh.

Oz grabbed two plates, balancing the second on the back of his forearm as he took at least a little of everything. Colt wasn't feeling as adventurous, though he decided after some coaxing to put one of the squid on his plate. It flipped and twisted like it was trying to escape, and Colt's stomach churned when he saw it looking back at him with desperate eyes.

“Have you seen Danielle?” Oz asked as he plucked two of the squid off his plate and plopped them in his mouth.

Colt scanned the room and saw her sitting at a table near the enormous glass wall, sitting next to a girl with ginger hair cropped to her shoulders. “Yeah, she's over there.”

The boys wound through the room, passing a table where instructors ate hors d'oeuvres and sipped a dark liquid that looked like a cross between grape juice and maple syrup.

“Hello, ladies,” Oz said as he flashed a smile. “Mind if we join you?” He didn't wait for a response as he took the seat next to Danielle.

Her eyes lit up when she saw Colt's head. At first she looked confused, but then she started laughing. She covered her mouth and turned away, trying to stop, but she couldn't help it.

“Go ahead, get it out of your system,” Colt said. His hand went to the top of his head and he started rubbing the stubble.

“I'm sorry,” she said, trying to regain her composure. “It's just that . . . I mean . . .” She fumbled over her words and laughed until her eyes were filled with tears. “I'm just not used to seeing you without hair, that's all,” she finally managed to say. “But I think you look . . . well, you look great.”

“No, I don't,” Colt said. “I look like a freak.”

“What happened?” asked the girl with the ginger hair, and Colt blushed.

“Pretty boy here used to have long hair,” Oz said. “You know, like a surfer. But he decided to go cue ball, and now he's regretting his decision.”

“It's just hair,” Danielle said, the smile leaving her lips.

“Whatever,” Colt said, ready to turn the spotlight on someone else. If it were up to him, he would have headed to his dorm room, but they hadn't been assigned yet.

“Anyway, this is Stacy,” Danielle said. “And these are the guys I was telling you about.”

The girl waved, but her eyes lingered on Colt for a moment before she turned away. It made him feel uncomfortable, though he wasn't sure why. She was beautiful, and it wasn't like he had a girlfriend. So why did it feel like he was cheating on Lily, just because some girl he didn't know smiled at him?

“So you were talking about us?” Oz asked as he leaned forward.

Danielle rolled her eyes as Oz cut into his prime rib, dipped it into a pool of creamy horseradish sauce, and took a bite.

“What's your story?” he asked as he looked at Stacy, ignoring the rule where you aren't supposed to talk with food in your mouth. “You know, where are you from and that stuff?”

“You must be Oz,” Stacy said.

“Guilty.”

“I tell you what. Why don't you tell me your story, and if it's interesting, I'll tell you mine.”

Oz stopped with the fork in his mouth and smiled. “All right,” he said. “My name is Oswaldo Alexander Romero, I was born right here in Virginia, and I like romantic comedies, books about sparkling vampires, and long walks on the beach.”

“Cute,” she said. “Of course, even if I believed you, you'd have to dig a little deeper if you want me to talk.”

Oz shrugged. “My dad's the director of CHAOS, so I've seen a lot of crazy stuff. I've been to three planets, I like video games where you get to blow stuff up, and the only way I'll read a book is if it has lots of pictures.”

“What, like comic books?”

“I'm in my local shop every Wednesday.”

Stacy's eyes lit up. “Really? What do you read?”

“I don't know,” he said. “The usual, I guess. Stuff like the Fantastic Four. X-Men. Justice League.”

“What about the Phantom Flyer?”

Oz looked at her sideways and pointed at Colt with his fork.

“You know who his grandpa is, right?”

“Should I?”

“Um, yeah. He's the Phantom Flyer—as in the real deal.”

Stacy frowned as though she might have misunderstood, but then a smile broke out. “You're the kid who brought down Trident?”

Colt looked away, embarrassed, as his neck flushed bright red.

“Don't be shy,” Oz said as he wrapped his massive arm around Colt's neck, pulling him close. “You're famous.”

“Knock it off,” Colt said, pushing him away.

There was a loud crash as plates shattered near one of the buffets. Everyone turned to see the green-skinned Undarian sitting on the floor, his uniform smeared with sauce as Pierce Bowen stood over him, laughing.

“Nice move, freak show!” Pierce said.

Colt pushed through the crowd until he was standing between Pierce and the alien. “Are you okay?” he asked, offering Bar-Ryak his hand.

“I'm fine, thank you.”

Pierce grabbed Colt by the arm and swung him around. “What are you doing? That thing knocked in to me!”

“I'm sure it was an accident.” Colt grabbed Pierce by the wrist, applying pressure with his thumb until he let go.

“The only reason you'd care is if you were one of them,” Pierce said, his eyes boiling.

“You realize that you just made an enemy, right?” Oz said as they walked back to the table. He sat down, grabbed a dinner roll, and used it to sop up a pool of gravy.

Colt shrugged as Oz plopped the roll into his mouth and licked his fingers.

“Don't get me wrong, I admire what you did,” Oz said. “I'm just saying that you better sleep with one eye open. That's all.”

“Trust me, I already do.”

“Which is why you and I are going to be roommates.”

“Seriously?”

“Have I ever lied to you?”

Colt hesitated, not wanting to answer the question. He didn't know what to think anymore. There was a good chance that Oz had been lying to him since the day they met, but he had no way to prove it—at least not yet. Then again, Oz was acting like everything was normal between them.

Oz frowned when Colt didn't answer, but the moment passed. He shrugged, looked at the empty dinner plates in front of him, and stood up. “I don't know about you guys, but I'm ready for seconds,” he said. He headed back to the buffet line.

“I'll join you,” Stacy said. “I think I saw some chocolate cake. Do you want to come?”

“In a minute.” Danielle slid into the chair next to Colt and lowered her voice. “Let me see your communicator.”

“Why?”

She looked over her shoulder. “We don't have a lot of time.”

Colt wasn't sure what she was up to, but he unfastened the strap and handed it to her. “So are you going to tell me what you're doing, or do I have to guess?”

“Is anybody coming?” she asked as her fingers tapped feverishly on the buttons.

Colt tried to be discreet as he glanced around. Oz was at the carving station with Stacy, who was holding an enormous slice of chocolate cake. Pierce was over in the corner, probably plotting his revenge, and everyone else was distracted by their own conversations. Then he spotted Agent Graves. He was looking their way and frowning as though he knew Danielle was up to something, but she had her back turned to him, so it would have been difficult for him to see what she was doing.

“How much longer?” Colt asked.

“I'm almost done.” When Danielle was finished, she wrapped the communicator in a napkin and handed it back to him. “CHAOS monitors everything that goes through these things, but Ms. Skoglund gave me a code that will encrypt our transmissions so we can have some privacy whenever we need it. Just make sure you activate it before you send me something that you don't want anyone else to see.”

Colt unwrapped the communicator and put it back on his wrist. “Do you trust her?”

“Who, Ms. Skoglund?”

“It's just kind of weird. I mean, she showed up with those files out of nowhere, and ever since then things have gotten kind of crazy.”

“Things were already crazy,” Danielle said. “Besides, your grandpa trusts her, right? Otherwise he wouldn't have told her where to find you the other night.”

“I guess,” Colt said, more confused than ever. He decided to join Oz and get some more of the prime rib, but as he stood up he realized that Agent Graves was still staring their way.

:: CHAPTER 33 ::

T
he boys' dormitory was a three-story brick building that stood across from the library, separated from it by a small pond. Smoke wafted from a pair of chimneys, offering the promise of warmth as the snow continued to fall across campus. The walkway was lined with a trail of footprints as the cadets marched silently, heads down, as they were ushered up the steps and inside.

The front door opened to a large room that looked like some kind of parlor. A fire crackled inside a hearth that was flanked by a sofa and a few chairs. The rest of the room was filled with tables that sat six, and Colt figured it was a study room. Portraits of former academy instructors hung on the wall, most of them old men with piercing eyes and a cluster of medals hanging on their jackets.

“Let's go!” the instructor shouted as the cadets filed in. His name was Agent Nixon, and he couldn't have been much older than twenty-five, with dark eyes and darker hair that he kept short and combed to the side. Unlike the cadets, he was wearing a black uniform, though it had the same CHAOS insignia over the left breast pocket. “You all have your room assignments. Everything you'll need is waiting in your dresser drawer—for some, there might even be a pacifier to keep you from crying all night.”

The cadets laughed as they trudged up the steps, leaving a trail of mud and snow that didn't go unnoticed. “Now I don't know about you, but I was taught to wipe my shoes on the mat before I walked inside someone's home,” Agent Nixon said. He grabbed the closest cadet by the collar, a lanky kid named Grey Allen who refused to look him in the eye. “Did you wipe your feet, Cadet Allen?”

“Yes, sir,” the kid said, his voice hardly a whisper as he tried to keep from falling down.

“Then where did that trail of mud come from?”

Grey was so frightened that his mouth was moving, but no words came out. All he could do was make a series of strange sounds as Agent Nixon rolled his eyes and sent him to get a bucket and mop.

One of the house rules was that first-year cadets weren't allowed to use the elevators, so Oz led Colt up two flights of stairs and stopped at a door at the end of the hall. He placed his enormous hand on a biometric sensor, and his fingertips lit green as the door clicked open. “Welcome home.”

It was smaller than Colt's bedroom back in Arizona, but somehow they'd managed to pack in two bunk beds and a single dresser with four narrow drawers.