CHAPTER EIGHT

Rosa wore red to breakfast because it’s a power color, and she didn’t want them to think she was afraid. She got a veggie omelet and cranberry juice and sat beside a couple of girls.

“Hey, I heard you got attacked in the night,” one of them said. She was an African American girl with huge dark eyes and a sleeveless shirt that showed off toned arms. “You okay?”

Rosa nodded. “Yeah, they were trying to move up.” She cut a piece of her omelet with the side of her fork. “I’m okay.”

“What do you think we’ll do today?” the other girl said. She was a white girl who didn’t wear makeup.

“I don’t know,” the sleeveless girl said. “But I’ll bet it’s crazy.”

They chatted a little but mostly ate. Eddie came in halfway through breakfast, wearing untied shoes. His socks were sticking out of his pocket, and he put them on while he shuffled through the line. He looked over at Rosa. She flushed and pretended not to see him. She turned to the sleeveless girl, then regretted it and looked back. He’d already found a seat by himself.

At eight o’clock a guy in an Interworlds Agency shirt poked his head into the cafeteria and motioned to them. They followed him to a conference room set up with rows of chairs facing a podium with a rolled-up screen. Ms. Bauer stood at the podium. They shuffled in. Rosa sat between Toned Arms and No Makeup. She looked around for the goons, even though she was sure they were gone.

“Good morning,” Ms. Bauer said. “Yesterday I mentioned that there was another test today. That was a little misleading—you’ve already had that test. Three of your number failed, in spectacular fashion.”

She looked at Rosa, and Rosa’s cheeks grew hot.

“You may have heard that three prospective trainees assaulted Miss Hayashi last night. Those people have been expelled from the compound, and their parents—and the police—have been notified. I would like to apologize to Miss Hayashi, and also to Mr. Toivonen.”

Rosa snuck a look at Eddie.

“We singled you out to see if anyone would try to sabotage you. Usually people confine themselves to stealing your clothes so that you miss breakfast.”

Yeah, well, that wasn’t what they did this year.

“We did have cameras in place in case something more serious happened, and we would have intervened if Mr. Toivonen hadn’t beaten us to it.” She smiled faintly.

Hell, Rosa thought. I have to be the victim, and he gets to be the hero.

“Unfortunately, more of you were eliminated yesterday than we announced. We simply wanted a bigger crowd in the dorm last night, so we could watch the social dynamics.”

No Makeup shifted in her seat. She had been on the bubble—in danger of being cut.

“At this point, eight people are left in the competition. Would the following people please stay in the room? Thank you to the rest of you for your participation. I wish you well in your future endeavors.”

She called Rosa’s name, and Eddie’s, and apparently Toned Arms’s, because she stayed seated, too. The others filed out quietly, and Arms stuck her fist out and Rosa bumped it.

Ms. Bauer lowered the screen. “There’s something I want you to watch,” she said. They groaned as the picture came up—it was a guy Rosa didn’t know, filmed yesterday in a falling elevator—one of the eight who were left. The clip rolled. The camera was inside the elevator, but you could tell when it started to fall—the kid’s eyes flew wide and his arms went out. Then he sucked in a breath and snapped into focus, and his mouth started moving. “The sound is off,” Ms. Bauer said, “for your privacy.” They laughed.

She ran the footage for each of them. Rosa’s was the shortest, which made her proud. Eddie’s was the longest, which surprised her since he was in the second spot.

“What do you notice about each of these?” Ms. Bauer said. They sat in silence.

“Um …” Trevor raised his hand.

“Go ahead.”

“Everybody adjusted really quickly. Nobody took more than a second to start talking.”

“Exactly!” She jabbed a finger at them. “Eddie took the longest. Why was that?”

They glanced around at one another. All Rosa could think of was, He’s the stupidest? Not something to say out loud.

“I’m the stupidest?” Eddie said. They all laughed.

Ms. Bauer smiled. “Your math and physics tests belie that.” She looked at them. “What did Eddie do that none of the rest of you did?”

“Almost die?” Trevor said.

She smiled again. Definitely nicer than yesterday. “Watch one more time.” She played the clip.

“Um, he was more active,” Toned Arms said. “Physically. He moved around more.”

“That’s right,” Ms. Bauer said. “Eddie, what were you trying to do?”

“Find a way to stop the elevator,” he said. They laughed.

“Eddie never quit. You almost all beat on the doors, but he was the only one who touched every wall, the floor, and the ceiling.” She looked at him. “You tried to pull a railing off, we presume to try to pry the doors open.”

“No,” he said. “I thought I might pop the ceiling off with it, and get on top of the car. You know, so I could jump to something on the side if I couldn’t stop it with words.”

“Did you really think we’d let you crash?” she said.

“No. But I didn’t want to die if I was wrong.”

She clucked her tongue. “Such interesting results for Eddie. Every test, his were a little different.” She tapped her clipboard. “Who was the one person who never touched the elevator?”

Rosa hadn’t even thought about it until then. “It was me,” she said.

Ms. Bauer nodded. “Why? You’re the only one who didn’t touch the doors.”

“It was an ineffective strategy,” Rosa said. “The test was to stop it with a relevant discussion of natural laws relating to free fall, so that’s what I did.”

“Fascinating,” Ms. Bauer said. Rosa tried not to squirm. “You focused completely on the task at hand without regard to the physical peril. You almost completely divorced your mind and body.” She looked across the room. “And Eddie didn’t trust us, and multitasked. He got the job done with words—but barely.” She smiled. “And in a rather entertaining fashion.”

His flush rose through the roots of his blond hair.

“So. Our team has pored over your test results. Some of your challenges had no single right answer. The helicopters, for example—we intended for you to think that the hole might not be in the top of the canister. Some of you discovered that, but Eddie thought to remove the lid, and Rosa figured out that with two helicopters working together, it could actually be accomplished. We’ve compiled profiles of your strengths and weaknesses based on a number of factors, including observing you in social interactions in hallways and at meals.”

Rosa sat up straighter.

“There’s one more test this morning, then we’ll have a brief recess while our panel discusses you.” She walked to the door. “Follow me.”

They went down a hallway, turned, and entered a gym. She motioned them to the bleachers and they sat. There was a wrestling mat behind her.

“Seriously?” Toned Arms whispered to Rosa. “In case we ever have to wrestle a tentacled alien?” She flared her eyes in comic horror.

“Your final test is fighting,” Ms. Bauer said. Rosa sucked in her breath. “It will go until one participant is unable to continue or we stop it. We’ll take one pair at a time. The rest of you will wait outside until it’s done.”

“You can take her,” Eddie whispered. He was sitting behind Rosa, and his knee bumped her back as he leaned forward.

Rosa nodded, but she was sure he was wrong. Toned Arms was the only other girl left, but she was tall and rangy and Rosa was small boned. Arms had an advantage in height, weight, and reach. And she hadn’t been roughed up last night. Physically, Rosa was okay. Mentally—she didn’t know.

Eddie leaned forward again and whispered in her ear. “Knock knock.”

Rosa smiled.

“Who’s there?” she said.

“Interrupting cow.”

“Interrup—”

“Moo!” he whispered triumphantly.

She twisted to roll her eyes at him, but she gave him a smile. A good one.

“We’re taking the pairs according to rankings,” Ms. Bauer said. “The first pair is Rosa Hayashi and Eddie Toivonen.”

Rosa froze. Because—seriously? Eddie could smash Arms. She bet he could beat any of the boys. She figured this had to be a gut check for her. That they thought everything was easier for her because of her dad—that she was soft. That she hadn’t earned it. It was the only explanation that occurred to her.

“Rosa and Eddie, on the mat. The rest of you, please wait in the hall.”

The others filed out quietly. No one met Rosa’s eye. Arms was sizing up the other guys. Behind her, Eddie stood. Rosa stayed seated. When the door closed behind the others, he spoke.

“Look, this is crazy. I’m not going to hit her.”

“To the mat, Mr. Toivonen.”

“It doesn’t make any sense,” he said. “Punching ability can’t be necessary to work for the Interworlds Agency.”

“And how would you know what’s necessary?” she said coldly.

“Because I’ve seen some of the fat old physicists who work for you, and they can barely punch a time clock.”

For a second Ms. Bauer looked like she was going to smile, but all she said was, “To the mat.”

“No.”

“If you refuse, you will be disqualified and eliminated from the competition. Do you understand that? I’m giving you both five seconds to get down here.”

Rosa thought about the previous night, how Eddie had sat in her room in a pair of boxers. He was heavily muscled for a seventeen-year-old. In another five years he’d be one of those guys with a chest like a slab, but he already had a body that had seen serious gym time. Or maybe, she thought, he lifted lots of feed sacks. Maybe Indiana was a big ruralnasium.

He stepped past her and walked down to the mat. Rosa stood and followed him. She felt light and a little dizzy, as though her brain was getting ready to be crushed—a preconcussion.

“This makes no sense,” Eddie said.

“I am not interested in your opinion of our challenges.”

He leaned forward, angry, invading her space. “You invite the brightest high school students in the country to go through all this testing, and when you’ve found the best ones you mash their brains to pulp? That’s counterproductive. It’s illogical.”

“There’s no biting or gouging,” Ms. Bauer said. “Don’t attack each other’s eyes or necks. Kicking is fine.”

“How is this scored?” Rosa said. “Is it number of touches or something?”

“No, it’s a straightforward fight. We have cameras above in case our panel needs to deliberate on who the winner is.” She looked at Rosa. “I don’t think that will be necessary in this case.”

“This is just wrong,” Eddie said. “You put her in danger last night, and you did it deliberately, to draw out the vermin. You owe her better than this.”

“You’ll have a break after three minutes,” Ms. Bauer said. “I’ll blow a whistle and you’ll have one minute of recovery time before the next round. At any point when I blow the whistle, you stop immediately. Do you understand that?” She came toward them. “You need to wear these electrodes.”

“You’re going to electrocute us, too?” Eddie’s voice was openly hostile. That didn’t make Rosa feel any better, because friendly Eddie was a little intimidating. Angry Eddie was really scary.

“No. They evaluate your brain waves.”

Oh my god. Was it worth it? Could she get hurt so badly here that she couldn’t do something else—be a pharmacist, or teach physics at some college?

“If I forfeit the match, will I still rank in the top two?” Rosa asked. Eddie’s look brightened.

“No, you’ll be sent home. Failure to complete any challenge is an automatic disqualification.”

“Hey, do you know judo?” Eddie asked.

“That’s racist,” Rosa said. “Because I’m Japanese you assume I know martial arts?”

“No,” he said. “But I do assume it’s your only chance.”

“Oh.” She shook her head. No martial arts.

Ms. Bauer put electrodes on their scalps. They were thin leads, not the round type.

“What do these even sync with?” Eddie said, looking around for a monitor.

“My phone,” Ms. Bauer said.

Rosa tried to focus. What advantage did she have over Eddie in physical fighting?

“Hey, Eddie? Can you stand the sight of blood?”

“Um, yeah.”

“Well, heck. I thought maybe you’d faint when you saw my blood and I’d win.”

He screwed his mouth into an almost-smile.

“My backup strategy is to move around a lot. I saw what you ate for breakfast—you’re not going to be able to move.”

“This isn’t a stand-up comedy competition, right?” he asked Ms. Bauer.

“No,” she said crisply. “Also, Eddie, the judges wanted me to stress to you that this is a physical fight. No calculus at ten paces or anything like that. This battle you fight with your body.”

She pulled a whistle out of her pocket. She was going to blow it. Rosa was going to die.

She blew the whistle.

Eddie stood there, looking at Rosa’s jawline, avoiding her eyes. She had a small jaw—delicate, people called it.

“We’ll send you home, Eddie,” Ms. Bauer said softly. “What are you going to do in Oolitic for the rest of your life?”

He balled a fist. He bounced it off the side of his leg in frustration. His eyes were wet as he turned away.

“I’m not hitting her. This is just wrong.”

“Are you that sure your moral compass points north, Eddie?”

He looked at Rosa’s jaw again, and didn’t answer as he stepped to the edge of the ring.

“Eddie!” Rosa called. She stuck her hand out and willed him back with her eyes. He hesitated, then returned and shook her hand. Rosa didn’t let go. He pulled gently, then stood and looked at her warily. She flipped her thumb over the top of his, not touching it.

His eyes lit up.

“One, two, three …,” she said, and they started to thumb wrestle. She pinned his thumb once, but he got her three times before Ms. Bauer blew the whistle.

“Very creative,” Ms. Bauer said, gently pulling the electrodes from her hair.

“We fought with our bodies,” Rosa said.

“Yes,” Ms. Bauer said. “You did.” She pulled the electrodes off Eddie’s scalp.

“No brain damage,” he said, grinning and giving Rosa a high five.

“That’s not what they were for,” Ms. Bauer said. “They sense decision making. Eddie, if you’d decided to hit her, a light would have gone on and I would have attempted to blow the whistle before you actually swung.”

“Attempted?” Rosa said.

“It was a calculated risk.”

“What even the heck?” Eddie said. “You didn’t want me to hit her?”

“Of course not!” Ms. Bauer said, looking at him as though he were insane. “Look, your test results are unusual. We’re not entirely sure what to make of you.”

“So you designed this test especially for me, to see if I’m psycho?”

“Basically,” she said. He shook his head and started to speak. “Some of them were,” she said, cutting him off. “The boys you fought off last night?” She raised her eyebrows, daring them to contradict her. They couldn’t.

“Thanks for not smashing me,” Rosa said.

He smiled. “Thanks for thinking of thumb wrestling.” He turned to the official. “I’m guessing she wins this one?”

“Hands down,” Rosa said. “See what I did there?”

“Ruined thumb-related humor for me?”

“Thinking it up was more important than actually winning a thumb-wrestling contest,” Ms. Bauer admitted.

Rosa threw her arms in the air and danced in a circle. “The winner—Ro-o-o-o-o-sa Hay-y-y-y-ashi!”

Ms. Bauer smiled. She texted on her phone for a minute.

Eddie ducked down and tapped his shoulders, and Rosa sat on them and he ran her in circles around the mat. She threw her fists in the air and clasped her hands together, and he hummed the theme from Rocky.

Then the far door opened and the thin-faced kid—Trevor—walked in, looking deeply unsure of what he was seeing, and behind him Brad, the guy with the dark hair.

“You’re alive?” Trevor asked Rosa.

“How is that possible?” Brad said.

“She won,” Eddie said, kneeling so Rosa could slide off his shoulders. He didn’t offer an explanation, and they both laughed at the guys’ expressions.

“So,” Ms. Bauer said, pocketing her phone. “Eddie, Rosa, this is Trevor Clayborn. He came in third.” Trevor groaned. “And this is Brad Quatro.” Brad lifted a hand. “He was fourth. You know that we only planned to accept one team—two trainees—but we’ve decided to take on an extra team.” She smiled at the two guys. “Trevor, Brad, you’re in.”

Eddie gave them both a high five, then said, “Wait—this is because you’re still not sure of me, isn’t it?”

“Frankly, yes,” Ms. Bauer said. “Think of it as having understudies.”

Eddie was silent for a moment. “If I get a sore throat, you have to do stuff for me.”

Brad snorted.

“Absolutely,” Trevor said. “But I get to keep the bouquets at the end.”

“I think you will find,” Ms. Bauer said, “that you won’t be getting bouquets.”

They had no idea then what was out there in the dark, and coming their way.