Nick James - Skyship Academy

Alkine sighs. “It’s no secret that I’d hoped he’d be in a better position right now. The good news is, we’ve still got time. He’s only just entered the program and I believe that if we focus our attention and work as a team there’s hope for him yet.”

I lean my face closer to the grate, forgetting that any of the teachers could look up at the ceiling and see me.

“I spoke with Fisher when he came back from the Surface,” Alkine continues. “Incoherently, I’m sure. You all know that I’m no good with kids. Anyways, I let him know what my expectations were, that he should come to me with any concerns.”

Mr. Wilson shifts in his seat. “Sending him down to the Surface without an escort was a big mistake. What if the Unified Party had found him and not just some punk kid?”

Alkine holds up a finger. “If we hadn’t sent him down, he would have wondered why he was the only one in his year without Surface training. And he did have an escort.”

Wilson slouches forward, resting his head on his hand. “Rodriguez doesn’t count.”

I glance at Avery. “Eva?”

Alkine sighs. “Doug, you of all people should be able to appreciate Rodriguez’s considerable skills. Plus, she has a direct line to me. If anything had happened, I’d have been down there myself. Syracuse is a deserted town, miles from the nearest Chosen City. We know what we’re doing. We’ve managed to keep him off the Tribunal’s radar well enough, haven’t we?”

Wilson shakes his head. “Another mistake, if you ask me. Sometimes I think it would have been better to turn him in the day we found him, spare us all this trouble.”

I bristle at the tone of Wilson’s voice. My fingers wrap around the grate.

Mrs. Dembo, head of Year Ten, sets down her pen and scratches the back of her dark, shaved head. “What trouble? He’s a normal boy.”

Alkine crosses his arms. “I’m afraid that may no longer be true.” He presses a button underneath the table and the door buzzes. My shoulder jerks. Avery grabs it, silencing me.

I watch as someone new enters the room. At first I don’t recognize her from above, but as she takes a seat beside Alkine I spot the uncomfortable scowl on Eva’s face. Suddenly this nightmare meeting turns into full reality.

“Evening, Rodriguez,” Alkine glances in her direction. “Tell everyone what happened two days ago.”

Eva nods, shifting nervously in her seat. “Okay. Well, I didn’t exactly see it myself, but piecing together what Jesse said it seems that he… I don’t really know how to say this… but he survived a twelve-story freefall. On pavement.”

Mr. Wilson snorts. “That’s impossible.”

“I know,” she replies, her eyes fixed on the table. “That’s what I told him. I thought maybe he was kidding around. You know, being stupid. But I know he was up there on that rooftop, and the only way to get down to the street as fast as he did was to go through the hotel lobby. Harris was there the whole time and he swears Fisher never came down the stairs. The only other explanation is that he fell. Unless they’re both pulling one over on me.”

I frown, wishing I hadn’t told her anything. Hearing her recite all this brings the memory flooding back. I’d been trying to repress it.

Mr. Kennewick, head of Year Twelve, clasps his hands. “You’re saying he became invincible?”

She nods, meeting the faculty’s eyes for the first time. “ Became , yes-but not for long. When I found him, there was a gang of Fringers beating up on him pretty bad. It doesn’t make any sense. Survive a fall like that only to be brought down by three teenagers?”

Mrs. Dembo jots something down on her memo-pad. “And he confided in you? About the fall and everything?”

“Yeah,” she replies. “I just told him he was being stupid. You said not to respond if anything weird came up.”

Alkine nods. “You did just as I asked.”

Her brows furrow. “But what’s going on? Why am I looking after someone who’s apparently invincible? Why isn’t he protecting me?”

A chill runs down my spine at the word invincible. That’s a superhero word, not a Jesse Fisher word. And the fact that Eva’s telling Alkine anything is enough to make me wanna drop down and punch her in the face. But I can’t even move.

“He’s not invincible,” Alkine says. “It must have been some sort of anomaly.” He turns his attention back to the teachers. “Has anybody noticed anything different lately?”

I peer around from teacher head to teacher head, fuming inside. It’s all I can do to keep from shouting through the grate. What right do they have to be talking about me like this?

Mr. Wilson sighs. “He conked out during a round of Bunker Ball the other morning, but that’s hardly different.”

“He does seem more unfocused than usual,” Mrs. Dembo adds. “I kept catching him daydreaming this morning in class.”

Mrs. Higgins rests her hand on her chin. “Could it be some sort of residual effect from the chemicals?”

Alkine shakes his head. “No, no. We’ve tested his chemical levels each year since the day we found him. It was amazing he was alive at all, down in Seattle so soon after the bombings. It’s barely safe now, and it’s been decades.”

Avery’s face darts up again and she flashes me a concerned frown. “Seattle?” she whispers.

I meet her eyes for half a second, but my mind’s spinning so fast that words don’t register at normal speed. My hand slips against the grate, squeaking. For a second I’m sure they’re going to notice us, but nobody at the table seems to hear.

“Well,” Eva starts, “personally, I think it’s time you told him everything you know. The poor guy’s gonna develop a complex.”

Alkine clears his throat and takes a sip of water from a glass beside him. “I’m beginning to think the same thing. I wanted to keep him safe, to give him as normal a childhood as we were capable of up here, but he’s growing up. He needs to know the truth about his past before the Tribunal, or worse yet, the Unified Party, finds out.”

I frown. The Tribunal and the Unified Party? Neither should have a reason to care about me. I keep waiting for everyone to look up and yell “gotcha” like in one of those stupid prank shows on the e-feed. But somehow I don’t thing that’s gonna happen.

“Bring him the key,” Mrs. Dembo starts. “Tell him it belonged to his parents.”

The word echoes through the vent. Parents. The teachers never talk about my parents.

“We don’t know that for sure,” Alkine responds. “And I’m hesitant to broach the subject with him until we know more. I’ve sent team after team down to Seattle but there’s got to be something we’re missing. There’s a connection here, with the bombings, with Fisher… I just can’t work my head around it.”

Eva straightens up in her chair. “You think Jesse had something to do with the Scarlet Bombings? He wasn’t even born yet.”

Alkine nods. “Yes, but we found him in Seattle on the tenth anniversary of its destruction. He didn’t know who or where he was, but he was completely immune to the chemicals around him.” He pauses. “There we were, faces strapped up with gas masks. Meanwhile, this three-year-old child is wandering around in the middle of the apocalypse-dazed, but otherwise healthy.”

My mind flashes back to the dream, the mist-covered city and the key hanging around my neck. The shadow behind me. Alkine’s shadow.

Avery grips my wrist. “Maybe we should go.”

I shake my head, keeping my face down. There’s no way I’m leaving until I hear everything they have to say.

Eva leans forward, drumming her fingers nervously on the edge of the table. “Do you think he remembers any of it?”