Project X-Calibur (14 page)

29

084:10:08

WE WERE ALL
in the cafeteria again, and the tension in the air among the six potential knights was so thick you'd need a chain saw to cut it. Twenty minutes ago, even with my screw-ups, it wasn't like there was another kid here ready to take my place. But not anymore. Now, either Darla or I would probably go home.

Kwan, Tyler, and Malcolm kept stealing awkward glances at Ivy, who sat by us, eating quietly. I felt bad for her. She knew this HQ better than anyone, but she was still an intruder in our group. Malcolm seemed especially uptight. He was pushing his food around his plate while he tried to figure out just how worried he needed to be.

Darla was the only one who wasn't concerned. She was seated at the end of the table, closest to the large window, with my helmet next to her. What if it allowed her to overcome her claustrophobia and kick butt? That would probably seal my fate here, and I'd be saying sayonara.

“How's your lunch, Ben?” Ivy suddenly asked me from across the table, and the eyes of Kwan, Tyler, and Malcolm immediately darted toward me. I swallowed.

“Fine,” I mumbled, “just fine.” Then l looked down at my plate and resumed chewing. So did everyone else. I didn't want to let on that Ivy and I had already hung out. It would definitely bring up questions and suspicions, especially from Malcolm, and I had enough to worry about.

After a few seconds, I glanced at Ivy, but the disappointment in her eyes over my sudden coldness was clear. This sucked. We were supposed to be a team, not competitors who ate in silence. I was about to open my mouth and apologize to her when I spotted Pellinore heading our way.

“Knights, my techs have informed me that it's going to take longer than expected to repair the hangar. In the meantime, let's get all of you in the BSR pods again.”

• • •

“Make sure Earnhardt takes the same pod he had last time!” Kwan shouted as we entered the BSR. “No way
I'm
takin' the one he yakked in!”

Pellinore and Merlin walked into the BSR with us. The massive space was free of any stars. I looked up, trying to see the curved ceiling as I remembered standing on top of it with Ivy.

“Since there are six of you now, to keep it fair we think it's best to have you compete three at a time. The first three up will be Ben, Darla, and Ivy,” Pellinore declared.

Ivy only met my eyes for a split second before turning away coldly and walking confidently to her pod. She was still angry with me for blowing her off in the cafeteria. I tried to walk with her, but Darla hurried up alongside me, whispering frantically. “What do I do with this helmet, Ben? Please—”

“I set it up to tap into the power of the helmet's comm system,” I quickly whispered back. “As soon as Pellinore turns on his microphone to talk to us, it'll fire it up.”

“Fire
what
up? You have to show me,” she pleaded.

“Okay.
Quick,
” I relented, and we both climbed into her pod. It was impossibly cramped with both of us in there, and her eyes went wide with fear.

“Oh, no, no, no,” she gasped, hyperventilating. “I c-can't do this!”

She was practically shivering with panic, and I thought,
This is a huge mistake. I should have let her quit already.
But it was too late to go back now—why not at least give my helmet a try?

“Yes, you can, Darla. Sit down and close your eyes. You have to trust me.”

I turned over the helmet to examine the tiny window scenery device I had put in there. I had attached its video wire to the helmet's glass with a couple of Band-Aids I'd found in our bathroom.

“What's going on in there, Ben and Darla?” Pellinore barked over the comm system. Now that the helmet's power had been initiated, the little scenery unit lit up. It was working!

I quickly put on the helmet to see how it looked. I gasped; it was better than I could have even imagined. The helmet's glass now had a wide-open mountain view on it, just like the one in the room window or cafeteria. The image was slightly transparent. There was a lake at the base of the mountain, and I could look through the water to the pod's windshield. It was like being in two worlds at once.

I yanked the helmet off and gave it to Darla. “Here! Put it on and you'll see!” I whispered, putting a finger to my mouth, reminding her to keep her voice down. Whoever else was on the comm line might hear us now. Her entire body relaxed as she gazed through the helmet's glass. She didn't need to say a thing. The trick had fooled her brain into thinking she was somewhere other than a cramped pod.

She pulled off the helmet. “How can I ever repay you?” she whispered.

“Just do great,” was my answer. And I meant it. I turned to climb out of the pod, but then I stopped and turned back.

“Actually, there is something,” I said quickly. “You're a girl, right, Darla?”

“Last I checked, yeah.”

I scratched the back of my neck awkwardly. “Well . . . I snuck out of the room last night with Ivy.”

Darla's eyes widened in surprise. “It was her idea,” I added quickly. “She called me to come and meet her. My question is: Why would she do that? I think she's mad at me now, and I'm not sure what to do.”

Darla just smiled a little.

“What?” I asked defensively.

“Well, for someone who's obviously so smart”—she nodded to the helmet—“you sure sound dumb as a skunk right now. Just tell Ivy how you feel. Tell her you're sorry. Just . . . be you. She obviously already likes you, Ben.”

I smiled, feeling pretty dumb, even though I was glad I asked. “Thanks.”

I squeezed out of the pod. “Sorry, Mr. Pellinore! Everything's fine! Darla just needed help with her seat belt.”

Before they could ask questions, I climbed into my pod, put on my helmet, and took a few quick, deep breaths.

Show us what you've got or go home,
Pellinore had said.

“Sounds like a plan,” I muttered. “Bring on the fake aliens.”

30

076:03:23

THE GOOD NEWS
was that I didn't get any more motion sickness during the first round of BSR training against Ivy and Darla. The bad news: I came in third place.

Ivy won, but with Darla's claustrophobia under control, she was finally able to use her video game skills. In the second round, Malcolm won easily, but everyone was getting better. We trained for
hours,
always switching up the participants. The most exciting rounds were the ones with Malcolm and Ivy. He won the vast majority of them, though Ivy did beat him a couple of times and came close on all the others. Pellinore never once praised his daughter.

When the day-long BSR-fest finally ended, there was no way to sugarcoat the outcome. Yours truly hadn't won a single round. I came close a couple of times, but, like Dad used to say, “close” only matters in horseshoes and hand grenades. I gave it everything I had, and I still came up short.

When we got back to our rooms for the night, the countdown clock now showed seventy-six hours left. I had a headache, and I was still seeing multicolored spots and flashes in my vision, remnants of looking at virtual alien lasers whizzing at me for seven hours. For the first time, even Malcolm looked tired. He was trying to hide it, but his bloodshot eyes told a different story. And there was no gung-ho talk from him about going to the gym before bed, either. I called Mom.

“I have a surprise for you,” she said. “When you come home, Denny wants to throw a party for you at the diner.”

“Why?” I asked softly, trying not to sound as beaten as I felt.

“Because we're all so excited to have a science genius around, that's why. Everyone is proud of you.”

It wasn't easy to hear that. I missed her, but I also dreaded the possibility of actually going home early. I found myself getting angry at Merlin for getting my hopes up that I could be a hero in the first place.

“Sounds great, Mom. Listen, I gotta go. I love you,” I said quickly, then hung up. I sat there on my bed for a quiet moment, then noticed Malcolm watching me. When I looked at him, his glance quickly shifted, and he continued polishing his grandfather's medal.

Kwan had his ear up to the wall again, trying to hear into Ivy and Darla's room.

“Anything interesting going on over there?” I asked him. I wondered if Ivy preferred having an honest-to-goodness room over a sleeping bag in the gloom of the ceiling.

“Nah. Can't hear a thing, anyway.” Kwan threw himself on his bed. “I sure hope they fix the damage you did, Earnhardt. I wanna fly actual ships again. I need the
rush,
man.” He yawned. “I just hope you guys are ready to get your butts kicked tomorrow. No way I'm going to be the loser who gets sent—”

He cut himself short when our eyes met. As much as he had given me a hard time so far, something in his eyes showed pity for me, and it hurt much more than his wisecracks.

A knock on the door ended the awkward silence.

“Who is it?” Malcolm asked.

“Merlin.”

Everyone immediately looked to me. Was he here to take me home already? I went to the door, step by step, like I was making my final trek down death row. When I opened the door, it was Merlin, all right. Alone.

“Good evening.” Merlin looked past me. “All of you. Good work today. You should be proud of yourselves. Can I speak with you, Benjamin?” he asked, nodding his head toward the hall.

I wasn't sure what to feel. Would this be the last time I saw the knights? What about Darla? And . . . Ivy? Would I at least get a chance to say good-bye?

“Should I bring my stuff with me now?” I asked Merlin. He squinted in confusion for a moment, then seemed to realize I thought I was going home. He shook his head.

“No. Just bring you.”

Merlin and I walked in silence. He took me through a part of HQ I hadn't seen before. We took an elevator up, and when it stopped, it opened on a steel door. Merlin pressed his hand against a scanner by the door. It glowed green as the door unlocked.

“After you,” he urged, pointing up a set of stairs.

When I got to the top of them, the sight took my breath away.

31

075:48:19

STEPPING INTO MERLIN'S LAB
was like stepping into another world. It was at the very top of HQ, and there was a large opening that allowed a view of the night sky, with an enormous telescope to bring the stars even closer.

There were several easels displaying hand-drawn star constellations with numbers and measurements scrawled everywhere. I ran a hand over the nearest table. The ancient wood was smooth, but I could still feel ridges and pockmarks. I had a feeling this stuff had been in Merlin's possession for hundreds of years.

“I've never shared Percival's fondness for steel,” he said as he watched me take it all in.

He ran a hand down the side of a wooden bookcase, touching it so gently that I might have mistaken it for something alive.

“Steel is too cold. It gives nothing back. But wood
breathes
; it holds memories. The blood, sweat, and tears of those it serves. You can feel them in the grain.”

I moved tentatively toward to the telescope.

“Go ahead,” he nodded.

I stepped onto a wooden stool behind it and pressed my eye to the lens. The view made the stars look like they were at the tip of my nose, like I could reach through the lens and grab them. I remembered a camping trip Dad and I took a few weeks before he died. It was the first time we'd gone together, because it had always been so difficult for him to get weekends off. I could almost hear the crackling campfire and feel Dad's arm around me again. I had never felt safer.

“What do the stars tell you?” Merlin asked. I turned to him, not sure what he meant.

“Maybe it's easier if I explain what they tell
me.
You see, even though there is no true magic—not in the
supernatural
sense—the stars come closest to offering us answers, if we know what questions to ask.”

I stepped down from the telescope. “What do you mean?”

“You, Benjamin. The stars have pointed me to
you.
”

“But I'm not good at this,” I croaked. “I keep losing, and I almost killed everybody and . . . the barfing. Remember the barfing?” I stared at the floor.

He nodded casually. “Hard to forget the barfing,” he chuckled. “But Arthur often battled nerves too. Believe it or not.”

Arthur. As in
King
Arthur.

Merlin patted my arm. “I have faith that your . . .
mishaps
were merely your nerves getting the better of you. As you and your peers might say—no biggie.”

“Wait, Arthur really got nervous?”

“Indeed. Why do you think he was so motivated to create the fantastic legends surrounding himself? Because he was hiding behind them.” A bittersweet smile played at the edges of Merlin's lips as he remembered the good old days. He seemed very fond of Arthur. “Later on, of course, he came into his own and didn't need the legends. He had earned his mythic status. Although I'm not sure he ever entirely conquered those butterflies of his.”

I looked back at the telescope again. Could the very stars that had been in the night sky every night of my life, the same stars that had twinkled over my one and only camping trip with Dad, be spelling out my destiny? It seemed beyond insane.

“What about Malcolm or Ivy, or any of the other kids?” I asked.

“The stars don't speak of them to me, Benjamin,” he countered, unfazed. “They all have their place—there are no accidents in the grand design. But you are meant for greatness.”

On the other side of the lab, he handed me something that looked like an X-ray. It showed a cross section of a spaceship that I recognized all too well.

I peered over the familiar curved lines. “This is X-Calibur, isn't it?”

“Yes. But take special notice of the ship's inner structure.” He jabbed an area in the center of the image.

I squinted in the soft light for a better look. The image showed that every inch of X-Calibur's body was crammed full of something that looked like thin rods—thousands and thousands of them, folded over and over and crossed and intertwined.

“What is all that in there?” I asked.

“The simple answer? I haven't the foggiest idea. Nobody does. But Percival still had his techs duplicate every
inch
of that maddening structure in the X-Calibur prototypes. Why do you think it's taken
years
to build each of our ships?”

Merlin took the cross section from me and pointed to the alien ship's insides again. “They
change.
We've had other children and teenagers take that pilot seat over the last six years, mostly for testing purposes. But the ship's functions proved to be different for everyone, sometimes even changing
day to day.
I daresay that vessel refuses to be tamed.”

“What happened to these other children?” I wondered.

“Most have stayed with us,” Merlin explained. “Engineers, techs. The younger ones, mostly. I often lose sleep over the valuable years they've sacrificed for us, believe me.”

I thought of Arlo, asleep on his keyboard.

Merlin motioned to the cross section again. “My point, Benjamin, is that what you see on paper is not always the best indicator of success or failure. There's no denying that Malcolm is a highly driven and exceptional child who comes from a legacy of war heroes. But what of
your
legacy? Your father was a hero, too. He died saving lives. Was his heroism any less noble because it took place in a small town that might seem inconsequential to some?”

I shook my head. “No, sir. Not at all.”

Merlin nodded and put his hands on my shoulders. “Do you regret helping Darla? You wouldn't be in this predicament of fighting for a spot here if you had allowed her to quit.”

I was shocked that Merlin knew about what I'd done for her, but when I remembered the gratitude on Darla's face, my answer was crystal clear.

“No. I would do it again,” I said firmly.

“Of course. But can you say the same for Malcolm? Would
he
have put himself on the line for her? Or would he have reveled in the chance to watch a competitor go home?”

I envisioned Malcolm sitting on the edge of his bed, polishing his grandfather's medal. “I'm not sure,” I said softly.

Merlin nodded. He seemed fond of that answer, too.

“Being a hero isn't always about strength or courage. Those things eventually come to those who truly have what it takes
in here.
” He pointed a finger to my chest. “Compassion cannot be measured or taught, Ben. I still believe you belong here more than anyone.”

He finally called me Ben.

“So I'm not going home yet?” I dared to ask.

“No. You're not. And
yet
implies that you going home is a foregone conclusion. That said, your opportunities to impress us are dwindling fast.”

Opportunities to impress
us.
So Merlin's faith in me was not limitless. I had to impress
him
sooner or later.

I nodded. “Understood. And thank you.”