The Academy: Book 2 (10 page)

“Do you know Meggers? She’s a graduate. Meg, I think her real name is. She’s always chewing gum.” Jen seemed to not notice the stares or the silence that now fell over the Town Center. “Anyways, she’s looking over the female Fishies’ dormitory this semester. She told me that you were friends with Asa.

“And you, Asa,” she said. She put her hand on Asa’s knee; this made him feel incredibly uncomfortable, but at the same time he felt frozen. “You never told me about your reputation earlier in the woods.”

Charlotte was looking at Asa, displaying a mixture of anger and pain.

“Uh. I…” was all Asa could get out.

“They say that you’re a murderer, you know. I don’t believe it myself.” She picked up a red pedal and held it up beside her eye for examination. “What’s all the decoration for?”

Asa shook his head; he felt
like he was unable to speak.

She tossed the pet
al, and it fluttered to the floor. “I’m just excited to get the semester started. I’ve heard that this place is very competitive. I mean, I’m still upset that they kidnapped me, but while I’m here, why not make the most of it? You know?”

You don’t know how deadly this place is; you’d wipe that grin from your mouth if you only knew what was to come,
Asa thought. But he didn’t say anything. Instead he nodded slowly. His mouth was dry. Since Shelby’s death last year, the other students had mostly left him alone; they were afraid of him. But, if they thought that he was spending time with a newly arrived Fishie, what suspicions would they come up with? Would it be enough to make them act?

Asa felt relief wash through him as soft, but ominous music began to play into the air, distracting some of the onlookers. Asa deferred from responding to Jen by looking at the stage, where the presentation appeared to be about to begin. A thin, young Multiplier with chestnut hair was about to take the stage. Asa saw that gunmen now flanked the outer walls, sitting high above the crowd—this was normal for an assembly at the Academy, but still, seeing the weapons unnerved Asa. Robert King was nowhere to be seen; Asa wondered if other students would notice this.

The man took the stage, sauntering with a certain aggressive gleam in his eye that Asa didn’t like at all. He smiled, showing his black, shining gums. His teeth were closer to purple than white, as though he had recently secreted the black saliva that Multipliers sometimes do when they feel like killing someone.

The watching students became even more still than they were before he took the stage: Jen was the only exception to this. She brushed a hand through her hair, a carefree smile floating on her face.

Is she insane?

The man was handsome, and wearing a suit
like a politician might wear—neutral tones complimented with a red tie. His hair was short and well groomed; his face was shaved clean. He looked very different from the Multipliers that Asa had encountered in the woods.

But then, he did something that contradicted his appearance: his action was brutal and chaotic.

He leapt up into the air, landed, thudded a fist to his chest, and asked the audience: “ARE WE WARRIORS!?”

No one knew what to say, and not a sound came from the crowd. A few heads turned, making sure the guns above them weren’t about to fire.

“Okay, then,” said the man on stage, scratching his chin. “You can laugh, that was a little weird.”

Nearly everyone laughed, letting out some air and then quieting up. Asa felt a bit better after the laughter, as though some of the tension had been released.

“One of the things that we will be talking about today is what the Academy is looking for in its graduates. I think that the word ‘warrior’ fits with what they are looking for. So, if when I ask that, I don’t get a resounding ‘Yes we are!’ then I think my men here should have permission to blow your heads off. Otherwise, what are we here for? We’re here to find out which of you are the best of the best. Why keep you if you aren’t even going to try?”

Jen was snickering beside Asa, as though she was watching a funny skit.
Maybe she doesn’t believe him.

Again, the man on stage jumped up, banged his chest and shouted, “ARE WE WARRIORS
!?”

“YES WE ARE!” said the crowd back. To Asa’s relief, Jen had participated.

“ARE WE WARRIORS!?” He asked again.

“YES WE ARE!”

“ARE WE WARRIORS!?”

“YES WE ARE!” This last cry was the loudest of all from the crowd. It was quiet for a moment, and Asa found that he was subconsciously gripping his seat; he had had bad experiences with assemblies like these; he didn’t want to see anyone die today, and the gunmen above didn’t look like they were just props.

The chestnut haired, handsome Multiplier smiled. “Excellent. My name is Chandler Martin, and we are here to talk about...” He snapped his fingers and an explosion came from the back of the stage, big and gold and loud, right behind Chandler Martin. It was only after the fact that Asa realized it had been a firework. Asa was gripping his seat harder than ever; the Multiplier had everyone’s attention; Teddy’s face was a sick shade of yellowy-pale.  “…the Gill Initiative,” Chandler finished, as though no explosion had gone off.

“You see…” He snapped his fingers again, and a series of fireworks went off above the stage, red and green and blue. He smiled, and shook his head—“I love doing that.

“But, all jokes aside, this is a very important place. ARE WE READY FOR ANOTHER GREAT SEMESTER!?”

And without prompt, the crowd responded: “YES WE ARE!”

“ARE WE WARRIORS!?”

“YES WE ARE!”

Chandler snapped his fingers, and a dozen fireworks went off above their heads, many students leaned back to avoid getting shrapnel in their faces: Asa could feel the heat coming off the explosion.

“ARE WE WARRIORS
!?”

“YES WE ARE!” This scream was even louder than the last, and, more than that, everyone seemed to
believe
it this time. Even Asa felt himself agreeing with the words.
I am a warrior.

Chandler was quiet for a moment.

What is the meaning of all this?
Asa thought. The way that this assembly was being conducted was extremely unnerving to Asa. He felt as though he was being brainwashed; the repetition and the screaming reminded him of the “Two Minutes Hate” in this book he had had to read in middle school about a society in the future where the government policed people’s thoughts. Teddy was beginning to look like he might vomit, or pass out. His eyes were glossed over.

“ARE WE WARRIORS
!?”

“YES WE ARE!” Teddy yelled incredibly loud beside Asa.

Chandler snapped his fingers, and thirty fireworks exploded.

“ARE WE WARRIORS
!?”

Asa looked at Teddy as he screamed the response along with the rest: “YES WE ARE!” His eyes flashed with a fiery intensity, and the muscles and veins on his neck bulged as he roared the words with all his might. When he was done yelling, Teddy was breathing hard and blood was beginning to run out of his nose.

Asa felt as though Chandler Martin had completely changed the mood in the center; somehow, the group of students having to obey the intermittent screams, mixed with the explosions had made them feel a reverence for this man whom many of them had never met.

“Whew! That feels great! Let’s get down to business.

“The reason you have been called here today is so that we can talk a bit about our expectations, celebrate the fact that we belong to one of the best organizations in the world, and let you know a bit about what to expect. I know that the Fishies had their individual Assembly earlier, and that they’ve been sitting for a while, but just stay with me.”

Chandler walked from the left side of the stage to the right; he then raised his hand into the air, and a screen levitated out of the stage. Asa wondered if magnets were used to suspend the object.

The words “THE GILL INITIATIVE” were displayed on the screen.

“The Gill Initiative,” he said, “was proposed by one of our owners, Dr. Gene Gill, as a new and exciting way to run the Academy: It’s a whole new way of looking at t
his education process. Dr. Gill is in the front seat, so why don’t we all give him a hand?”

The response from the crowd was completely out of proportion from the request: a thunderous applause swept over the audience; Teddy screamed and cheered, his face even paler than before; his nose was now gushing blood.

A white haired man in the front seat, whom Asa assumed was Dr. Gill, raised a hand in acknowledgement and thanks.

When the crowd died down a bit, Chandler Martin continued on. “You see
, the Academy hasn’t been pleased with some of its recent graduates. And so the owners sat down and tackled the question—what needs to be changed?”

Asa shifted a bit in his seat, anxious to hear what would come next.
This has to be connected with Robert King’s death. Maybe this Gene Gill guy is taking over for him. It’s too much of a coincidence that The Boss was murdered, and now we have a meeting where they explain that protocol is changing.

A new slide came into focus on the screen: this one was of a small wooden box with the word “SUGGESTIONS” carved into the front.

“The first thing, is that we want more feedback from you: After all, you are in line to become a valuable part of this organization. This is the most impressive, most exciting organization in the world, and we want your input.

“More so than that, we want you
to be happy. Can I have the next slide please?”

The picture on stage changed instantly. As Asa looked at it, he felt blood rush into his cheeks, making them feel hot. The image was of a large, ballroom dance that had never happened. The room was lit with glistening
chandeliers. A full orchestra was playing music, dressed in formal black. The dance floor was filled with smiling, happy Academy students in tuxedoes and elegant dresses. In the center of the room, the image showed Asa dancing with Charlotte. Her hair was fixed up and out of her face, and her smoky eye shadow matched her dress. Asa was smiling too, holding her right hand with his left; his right hand was around her waist. They were surrounded by others who were dancing too. Near the bottom of the screen, Asa saw Teddy dancing with Samantha, who had died last year in the King Mountain Task.

Asa was deeply disturbed.
They photoshopped images of us all dancing together? Why didn’t they take out the dead people? I guess that our lives aren’t important enough for them to keep track of who they’ve now killed.

“We are going to have events to show appreciation for you, our students! This includes dances
, and some surprises.” Chandler Martin winked.

The next slide came onto the screen: this one had a picture of an Academy graduate whom Asa had never seen before. He wore a sleek black suit, and was handing a plate of hot food to a barefoot, malnourished black child. The dead grass, flat plains, and red dirt made Asa assume that the picture was taken somewhere in Africa.

“The second thing that needs to be changed is that we want you to know what this place is all about.” He forced a laugh as though instructed to do so by an invisible prompter. “The Academy is a humanitarian organization. Now, I can’t be entirely specific, but just know that by moving through the tasks here, you are helping the world to become a better place.”

The next image that arose was of a gloved hand displaying an uprooted weed.

“I love this image. The third and final thing that needs to be addressed is that the Academy is about to get a lot more competitive. But we love this, right?

“ARE WE WARRIORS
!?”

“YES WE ARE!”

“I can’t reveal all the details now, but this semester’s Task is going to be unlike any before. It’s going to be brutal, giving each of you a better chance than ever before to show your true worth. And it will involve everyone. Fishies through fourth semester students will be competing together.

“Over 10 billion doll
ars were spent on the Task; this is one of the Academy’s biggest undertakings to date. You’re going to be pushed to your physical limits. You will be injured, hungry, and you will suffer dehydration. Many of you will die, and a few will rise through the ranks and prove themselves worthy.