Sterling Squadron (14 page)

The other side? Only four other kids were up. Two he didn’t know, the girl who’d saved him, and the kid with dark skin who’d challenged Ethan earlier in tactics class.

“That’s enough!” One teacher came over to Ethan. “There are no teams. That’s a violation of Sterling rules.”

Rules? Rules at Sterling was like giving a person stranded on a desert island an Arctic survival parka.

Paul stepped in front of Ethan before he could protest. His cap was pulled low, and he looked away as he spoke to the teacher. “Sorry about that, Coach. It just kind of happened.”

The teacher examined the carnage around them, nodding in approval as kids limped off the field. “Nice work, but I want you all to report for evaluation.”

Evaluation? Ethan wasn’t sure what that was, but he didn’t like the sound of it.
Anything
that got them more noticed by the teachers and those guards in athletic suits was bad news.

“Evaluation,” the teacher continued, “for
disciplinary action
.”

  17  

THEY WERE DOOMED. THERE WAS NO WAY TO
get out of this.

If it’d just been the one teacher from the field walking them to this “evaluation,” then they could have made a break for it. Ethan and his companions, though, had picked up an escort of two athletic-suited guards as well.

Ethan knew the specs on the athletic suits he’d used in soccer. They ran as fast as a car and could lift two tons with one arm—not to mention, these Sterling models had shoulder-mounted cannons and electrified lances.

He imagined trying to make a break for it—him and his friends scattering. Maybe
one
of them could get away.

Could one or two of them reach their I.C.E. suits in time to save the others?

He wasn’t sure.

He didn’t try it. Not yet.

The teacher marched them into the school, through the front office where teachers filled out forms or made phone calls, and then they stopped at a door marked
PRINCIPAL KENDELL
.

The P.E. teacher knocked. There was a muffled voice from the other side, and then the teacher pushed open the door for them.

Paul looked like he was going to throw up, and cast around looking for a way out. There was none.

They shuffled inside.

Principal Kendell sat at her desk typing on her computer and shuffling through a pile of paperwork. She reminded Ethan of his mom, with her golden skin, intelligent eyes, and an easy smile. She wore a navy blue jacket with a silver
S
on the vest pocket.

The one window in her office had curtains drawn back and blinds up to let the sunlight spill inside. Diplomas and awards hung on the walls.

This was part of the huge lie.

This principal had never gotten any awards. She didn’t have to fill out paperwork when she had a direct mental link with the Ch’zar mind-controlled Collective.

It made Ethan angry, because he’d lived the same lie in Santa Blanca for most of his life. But he kept that anger in check because of another emotion flooding through him: fear.

The Ch’zar were about to discover him and his friends.

The principal looked up from her computer.

The P.E. teacher handed her a clipboard. “Rule violators, Madam Principal,” he said.

She glanced at the clipboard. “That will be all, Coach,” she told him. “I’ll see to their evaluation.”

The coach grunted, left, and shut the door behind him.

Ethan tilted his head and looked at the floor. Fear thundered through his brain and made it near impossible to think.

This wasn’t the first time he’d been called in for disciplinary action. He’d been in Coach Norman’s office back at Northside Elementary for a Ch’zar interrogation. He’d been chewed out by Colonel Winter, not once, but
twice
, in her office.

But this time was very different.

One good look at any of their faces and the principal
would recognize them, or at least recognize they weren’t supposed to be at Sterling.

They’d be captured and jailed until they reached puberty.

Then the Ch’zar would really have them. Their minds would be absorbed into the Collective.

Paul, Felix, Madison, and Ethan would cease to be themselves.

Principal Kendell read the report and made tsking sounds. “The rules of our program were explained on your first day,” she said. “There are
no
teams. Physical education is to assess your
individual
potentials.”

Despite their dire situation, Ethan was curious. Why test individuals when the Ch’zar were going to absorb every Sterling kid into their Collective? Weren’t they all supposed to work together to strip-mine the world and build starships?

Felix elbowed Ethan. He narrowed his eyes and shot Ethan that “we have to accomplish our mission at any cost” look. He then nodded at the principal.

Ethan understood.

They had to do something about her, quick, before she realized who they really were. Ethan, though, had no idea what exactly they
could
do.

The principal set down the clipboard, stood, and
walked toward them. “This is a serious infraction,” she said. “But relax. I’ll make a show of it for the coach, give you a few demerits, and call it even … 
if
you each promise to play the game by the rules.”

As she passed in front of Ethan, he glued his gaze to the floor.

She sounded so nice.

For a split second, Ethan believed she might be a
real
principal. But that was just his Santa Blanca upbringing, his brainwashed reaction to authority making him doubt the truth … and himself.

Felix cleared his throat.

The principal turned to him.

What was he doing?

“Yes, um, Mr.…?” The principal reached back for the clipboard and scanned it. “That’s strange. Coach didn’t write down your names.”

Ethan then understood: Felix had distracted her so Ethan could make his move.

It was now or never.

He had to do
something
 … anything.

Ethan spied a paperweight on her desk. It was glass, had a sunflower inside, and was the size of his fist. He grabbed it. It was heavy—just the thing to conk someone on the back of the head.

He raised the paperweight but froze.

He couldn’t.

Even with all his new hand-to-hand combat training, Ethan just didn’t have it in him to hit someone with their back turned.

Sure, Ethan had fought the Ch’zar before, but in the air, with them shooting lasers and missiles at him. He’d even kicked one of their human operatives in the face: Coach Norman back at Northside Elementary when he was about to drug Ethan.

He raised the paperweight higher.

But Principal Kendell seemed normal. She reminded Ethan of his mom.

Besides, he might really hurt her.

He exhaled. There was no way he could do this.

The principal whirled around, glanced at the paperweight in his hand, and then her eyes fixed on Ethan’s face.

Something focused in her gaze … and then faded as if she stared off into the distance. “Do I know you?” she whispered.

  18  

MADISON MOVED WITH THE SPEED OF A
panther. She ripped a plaque for Principal of the Year off the wall, gritted her teeth, and smacked it over Principal Kendell’s head.

With a crack of wood, the principal slumped and dropped to the floor, unconscious.

“Are you
trying
to get us killed?” Madison demanded of Ethan. “She almost recognized you!”

He stood and stared, stunned.

That had been the right thing to do. The principal
wasn’t
a real person. She was part of the Ch’zar Collective. Something entirely alien.

But his parents were adults and somehow outside the power of the Collective. More important, part of the principal
had to be
human … because if she wasn’t, there was no hope for
any
of the kids who became adults. There’d be no hope for his sister Emma.

Felix knelt and felt for the principal’s pulse.

“She’s okay. Just knocked out.” Felix glanced at the closed office door. “If she didn’t recognize you, Ethan, we’ve got a minute or two before someone comes.”

Madison moved to the window and snapped shut the blinds. “Just perfect,” she muttered.

Paul sat at the principal’s desk and rapid-fire tapped on her computer keyboard.

“What are you doing?” Ethan moved behind Paul to get a better look.

Paul opened up student files and searched with a determination that made Ethan think Paul was looking for a
specific
someone.

Ethan spun the chair around. “Spill it,” he told Paul. “You’ve been hiding something about this place.”

“There’s no time.” Paul strained back toward the computer.

Ethan knew he was right about Paul having some big secret.

“Make time,” Ethan demanded. “You’re terrified of this place. That much is obvious, and I don’t blame you. You came back, though. I think to help us out, but there’s more to it than that. What?”

Madison and Felix exchanged appraising looks. They moved closer, curious what Paul was doing on the computer, too.

“Okay.” Paul’s face scrunched with irritation, and it made the scars on his cheek pucker. “Just let me work while I tell you. But then”—his voice lowered to a threatening whisper—“don’t blame me if you all end up wishing I’d kept my mouth shut.”

Ethan felt as if Paul had punched him in the nose. He let go of the chair.

Paul went back to his search, opening one student record after another.

“When I was here,” Paul explained, “I was the worst of these punks. I beat up the new kids; ate all the junk food; broke, burned, and blew up things. I ran with three of my best buddies and one little kid, Jeff. He was like our mascot.”

Paul hesitated, and then went on. “We even broke
Sterling’s rules. We didn’t care. One night instead of going into Fiesta City, we snuck into the place where they ‘graduated’ students.”

A cold feeling spread through Ethan.

He’d been told that when he graduated, he’d go to high school. Ethan had studied extra hard to get into the best schools. In reality, though, he would have been taken away to join the Ch’zar Collective.