The Serpents of Arakesh (8 page)

‘Anyone fer another banger?'

I'd already had two, but I joined Jamie, Richard and Zach for thirds. I didn't get the impression Shaw was counting.

‘What will we be doing after lunch, Shaw?' asked Jamie, with his mouth full.

Shaw moved the last few sausages over to the side of the griddle, away from the heat. ‘Ah, well, Jamie, that's just goin' ter be a bit o' fun. Get you kids out in the fresh air after bein' cooped up.'

It had turned into one of those perfect days that sometimes follow heavy rain. Everything looked fresh and clean. The grounds of Quested Court — at least, the part where us kids were having our barbecue — were like the very coolest kind of park — lawns like green velvet, a fountain, and huge old trees. Best of all, though, everyone was being so kind. I couldn't remember the last time I'd got all the way through to lunch time without being yelled at.

‘Right — all ready? Let's 'ead off, then. Foller me.'

We followed Shaw across the lawn, past tall, clipped hedges and into a forest of pine trees. We were walking in ones and twos, the three girls sticking together. Richard and I were joined by Jamie, whose short legs had to do the occasional skip to keep up. He was puffing slightly, partly because he seemed determined to talk non-stop while he walked.

‘I wonder who'll make it into the final five,' he said. ‘I'm a logical choice, plus I did really well in the test — a hundred percent, I reckon.' His voice dropped to a breathy whisper. ‘Some of those questions were pretty dumb, though. I mean, you just couldn't figure out what you were supposed to say. What did you put for the one about the sticky situation, Adam?'

I sighed. This was exactly the kind of conversation I hated. ‘Can't remember,' I fibbed.

Jamie shot me a calculating look. ‘Really? I have an
excellent
short-term memory. Hey, wait up, won't you, guys? Do you have to walk so fast?'

Shaw had come to a stop up ahead, where the trees were thinner. Whatever ‘initiatives' was, it looked as though we had arrived.

Dotted round the clearing were what looked like half a dozen or so wooden structures. I could see a high wooden wall, a tall pole with a car tyre beside it and a weird-looking net with different size holes in it, strung between two posts. There seemed to be others, too, off between the trees.

Shaw stood facing us, hands in his pockets, looking all set to enjoy himself. ‘Right, kids, listen up good. This 'ere's the fun part, so yer don't want ter take it too serious. First off, we'll split yer inter two groups.' He took a piece of paper out of his pocket, and consulted it. ‘We've got Kenta —' a slim little olive-skinned girl with straight black hair moved up beside him. He gave her a nod and a
wink. ‘Zach —' Dreadlocks sauntered up beside her. ‘Jamie —' Jamie waddled importantly to the front. ‘Maria … and Adam.' Maria was the pretty dark-haired girl who didn't like ball games. ‘OK, you lot are one team, the rest of yer are the other.

‘There's six obstacles. The aim is ter get yer team over them all as quick as yer can. It 'elps ter work as a group — and that's all I'm tellin' yer.' I gave Richard a grin and he gave me the thumbs-up. I wished we were on the same team, but somehow I didn't think there'd be any point asking to change.

Shaw handed out laminated sheets telling us the order of the obstacles.

Zach pushed to the front and took ours. Jamie's hand went up. ‘Yeah, Jamie?'

‘Please, Mr Shaw, do we choose a leader? Or will you choose the leader for us?'

‘Aha, Jamie — now yer onto it!
I
don't pick the leader … but mebbe that's part of it … and mebbe I shouldn't be tellin' yer.' Shaw's broad, good-humoured face creased into a rare smile. But the dark eyes flicking round the group were shrewd and calculating, and I had a sudden feeling Shaw was seeing a lot more than he let on. That there was more to him than he liked to pretend … and he might be more involved in the selection process than he wanted us to know. ‘So, get yer thinkin' caps on. Teamwork an' leadership, that's the ticket — just like the army!'

Zach didn't put his hand up — he was way too cool for that. ‘Were you in the army, Shaw? Is that where you learned all this stuff?'

‘You bet I was! Officers' trainin' courses, leadership skills, fatigues … you name it. Now, on count of three. One — two — three — and yer off!'

There was a rush for the first obstacle. For our team, it was the pole with the car tyre. Jamie, pink-faced, pushed
to the front, determined to shoulder the role of self-appointed leader. ‘Right,' he said, ‘what do we have to do?'

‘There is a notice fastened to the pole,' Kenta pointed out shyly.

Jamie read it out. It said we had to thread the tyre over the pole, and lower it down to the ground. Then we had to get it off again. Simple. Only problem was, the pole was a good three metres high.

Zach took charge. ‘I'm real strong, and great at shot-put,' he announced. ‘How about I throw it over?'

There was a video camera up in a tree behind the pole, I noticed. A red light on it was glowing and I wondered if we were being filmed. Everyone was clustered round the pole, arguing about what to do. Eventually Zach took the tyre and threw it upwards with all his strength. It knocked against the top of the pole, bounced off, and hit Jamie a glancing blow on the arm on its way down. Jamie crumpled to the ground and started to cry.

Kenta crouched down next to him. ‘I plan to become a doctor, Jamie. Let me see where you are hurt,' she said kindly, in her formal little voice.

Zach was standing with his hands shoved deep in his pockets, glowering at Jamie, but I could tell he felt bad about what had happened. Maria had noticed the video camera, and was smiling up at it.

I mooched over to Zach. ‘Hey, Zach,' I suggested hesitantly, ‘how about if we make, like, a human tower? Say you, then me, then one of the girls, seeing they're lighter. Then maybe Jamie could pass the girl the tyre, and she could put it over.'

His face brightened. ‘It's worth a try.' He clapped his hands. ‘Hey guys, let's try this.' Quickly, he outlined the plan. I kicked my trainers off and stood on his shoulders and Kenta hopped lightly up onto mine. ‘I pursue gymnastics as a hobby,' she said, and you could tell it was
true by the light, balanced way she moved.

Jamie picked himself up off the ground, wiped his nose on his sleeve, and passed her the tyre. Over it went, and Jamie and Maria lowered it carefully down. Job done. Same thing in reverse, and it was high fives all round, and on to the next one.

As we worked through the obstacles, a pattern began to emerge. Zach went at everything like a bull at a gate, determined to do everything as much on his own, and by sheer strength, as possible. Maria drifted around on the edges, clapping and exclaiming when things went right, and grimacing prettily up at the video camera when they went wrong, which seemed to happen fairly often. Kenta was shy and quiet, but quick to come forward when there was something practical she could contribute. And Jamie, of course: determined to be the leader, but short on practical ideas that would actually work.

Take the net. The objective was for the whole team to cross from one side to the other by crawling through one of the holes without coming into contact with the strings. It was wired up to this buzzer, which went off when you touched it. Catch was, the same hole couldn't be used twice. Obviously it made sense for one of the big guys to go through a low, easy hole first, and then help the lighter girls through holes higher up. That would leave the low holes free for the heavy guys to crawl through once the rest of the team was on the other side. But it took ten minutes of arguing and people getting stranded on the wrong side of the net with all the holes used up, before this seemed to occur to anyone.

Next, we had to get the whole team across a wide, shallow stream using two car tyres and a wooden plank. There was the usual hubbub of suggestions, everyone shouting each other down. Then suddenly Kenta turned to me and asked, ‘What do
you
think, Adam?' To my
amazement, everyone quietened down and looked at me. I flushed, heard myself explaining how I reckoned it would work best … and in no time flat, we were over.

With the wall, the big thing was to get someone stationed up top who was strong enough to haul all the others up — especially Jamie — with everyone else heaving from underneath. Little Kenta was left till last — with a run and a bounce, she was up and over all on her own. She flashed me a shy smile.

Last of all was a two-strand electric fence — it gave a loud buzz if you touched it, though, instead of an actual shock — which we had to navigate our way over using just a plank of wood. We made a kind of human stile and got across, no worries — and again Kenta was last, running nimbly up the plank while I held the high end, and jumping down to land lightly on the other side.

After all the time we'd wasted, I was amazed when Shaw came up and gave us all high fives and told us we'd finished first. We ambled over to watch the other team struggling with the tyre and the pole, Richard standing solid as a rock as the base of the human tower while Genevieve teetered at the top. At last they did it, and we all gave a great cheer, before heading back for afternoon tea.

The best thing about the initiatives course was that it made us feel as if we'd known each other forever. I'd started the day with a bunch of strangers, but as I took a couple of chocolate-chip cookies from the loaded plate and passed it on, I realised that I felt closer to these kids than I did to anyone at Highgate, or at school. Not counting Cameron, of course. Jamie was reaching for the last biscuit when the dining room door opened and Q walked in.

‘Hello everyone,' he said. ‘I trust you've all had an enjoyable afternoon. Shaw tells me we have some excellent problem solvers, and you have all performed most satisfactorily. Well done.

‘Now, there is one final exercise. Will you all please wash your hands thoroughly, and then follow me.'

Mystified, we queued for the cloakroom, and gathered in the corridor. The atmosphere was relaxed compared to the morning — you could see some friendships had been formed, and I couldn't help wondering what would happen that evening, when the selection was announced. The thought made me feel slightly sick.

I glanced at Richard, and he grinned at me. ‘Do you need clean hands for arm wrestling?'

Q led us back to the computer room where we'd done the first test. I hoped we weren't in for another dose. But he walked over to the dark, shrouded object in the corner, and told us all to gather round. Then he turned off the light.

The room was immediately plunged into absolute darkness. I heard an indrawn breath, almost like a sob, from someone … then there was a slither as the cloth slid away, and a collective gasp from us all.

There, suspended in the darkness, was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. It was a transparent glass sphere, perfectly round, about the size of a basketball. I knew it was resting on some kind of stand or table, but in the pitch dark it seemed to be hanging in midair, as if by magic.

Lightning was held captive inside the sphere. Brilliant purple-blue electric streamers danced up from the base in a magical display of light. Ever-changing, utterly silent, totally mystical; so beautiful it took my breath away.

I realised Q was talking softly — had been talking for some time. ‘The plasma globe is one of the most beautiful manifestations of plasma. Put simply, plasma is the fourth state of matter — a hot, ionised gas. The pressure in a plasma globe is high — so high that when plasma is generated, it heats up. Since hot air rises, the streamers of
light tend to move up the sides of the globe. They keep moving because the charged gas areas keep moving. You can become a return path for a plasma trail by touching the glass surface.'

Q reached out one hand, and laid his palm flat on the side of the globe. Instantly, the blue streamers were drawn to his hand as if to a magnet, glowing and dancing under his palm. He placed his other hand on the other side of the globe, and the streamers divided and flickered between them. I sighed. I could have watched forever.

Even Jamie sounded strangely subdued. ‘Do we get to touch it too?' he whispered.

In the bluish light reflecting upwards into his face, I saw Q smile. ‘Yes, you do,' he said. ‘That's why you're here. Would you like to go first, Jamie? It's quite safe.'

One by one, the kids shuffled forward in the dark and put their hands on the globe. Richard laid his palms flat, just as Q had done, and stood motionless, gazing soberly at the streamers twisting between them. Genevieve rested the ends of her fingers on the glass, tracing patterns with the lightning as it followed her fingertips. I hung back, imagining the cold blue light playing on my skin through the glass. I wanted to be last.

With some of the kids, the light seemed to be brighter and more intense. I wondered if it had anything to do with the temperature of your skin, or maybe how sweaty your hands were.

At last, I was the only one left. ‘Adam,' said Q, ‘it's your turn.' I felt drawn to the globe by an almost gravitational pull. Of their own accord, my hands lifted, spread, and lowered themselves as softly as feathers onto the smooth surface of the globe.

Instantly, the lightning arced upwards in a blinding flash like a thunderbolt. A searing shock jolted through my palms and knifed up into my shoulders, setting them on
fire with pain. I was hurled backwards, smashing into whoever was behind me. Fluorescent blue stars spun before my eyes and a weird electric humming buzzed in my ears.

Gradually the room came back into focus. Q was kneeling over me, looking distraught. His mouth was moving. I couldn't hear what he was saying — couldn't hear anything. I dimly realised someone must have turned the light on again. I blinked, and shook my head, trying to clear it. I felt numb. Q seemed very small and far away.