The rest of the afternoon seemed to pass in a blur. They were hurried from one area of H.I.V.E. to the next, being shown where all of the school’s key facilities were and the locations of the classrooms that would play host to their first few lessons. Notably, they’d been taken to the sick bay, which seemed to Otto more like a fully equipped miniature hospital than some dusty room used by a school nurse. There had been a nasty moment when they’d arrived at the sick bay just as Block and Tackle were leaving following their check-up. They’d given Otto and Wing looks as they walked past the group which, for the first time, almost made them grateful that the Contessa was there. It left them in little doubt that they would be very wise to avoid an unscheduled meeting with them in some distant deserted corridor of the school.
They’d also been taken to the physical training cavern, where they’d seen groups of exhausted students being put through their paces by gym teachers who looked more like drill instructors. As soon as one group completed the full assault course that ran the length of the cavern they were scaling long ropes that hung from the ceiling. Otto had never been a particular fan of intense physical exercise, so he was not really looking forward to his first session in this cavern. Wing, however, seemed to be delighted with the array of exercise machines and training equipment, even strangely remarking at one point that they reminded him of home.
Throughout this the Contessa had continued to explain the workings of H.I.V.E. to them and answered most of their many questions about the school. Otto had been more interested in the questions that she avoided answering than the ones that she had rattled off an obviously well-practised response to. As before, she had remained oddly reluctant to answer anything relating to transport off the island or communications with families, but he had been interested to note that she also wouldn’t discuss exactly how many people were on the island or what source of power they used. He had considered pressing her for answers to these queries, but had thought better of it when Wing reminded him that the only answer he was likely to get from the Contessa would almost certainly cause temporary confusion and amnesia.
And so, eventually, they had ended up back at Plotting Room Two, where the tour had started that morning, all, once again, seated around the large black table. Only one thing had changed about the room since that morning. Arranged neatly on the table in front of each of the students were what looked like small, matt-black PDAs with the H.I.V.E. logo in silver on the front. The Contessa stood at the end of the table and addressed them.
‘So, children, that completes your introductory tour of H.I.V.E. I’ve no doubt that some of you will have found it difficult to take in all that you have seen today, but as you spend more time here you will find that you quickly become used to life at H.I.V.E. I’m sure you also have many unanswered questions, and with that in mind the last thing I’d like to introduce you to before you are taken to your new quarters is this.’ She held up a device identical to the ones that sat on the table in front of each of the children. ‘This is your H.I.V.E. personal digital assistant, more commonly known to the students and staff as a Blackbox. This device is designed to provide all of the assistance you need in getting used to life at H.I.V.E. and should prove invaluable to you over the months to come. Take good care of it and, whatever you do, do NOT lose it. Please pick up your Blackboxes and open them, like so.’ The Contessa flipped open the cover on the front of the device.
They all dutifully did as instructed and there was a chorus of bleeps from around the room as the tiny machines started up. The screen on Otto’s machine displayed the H.I.V.E. logo for a couple of seconds, which then vanished to be replaced by the familiar blue wire-frame face of H.I.V.E.mind.
‘Good afternoon, Mr Malpense. How may I be of assistance?’ the machine’s soft voice enquired.
All around the room H.I.V.E.mind could be heard greeting each of the group by name.
‘Your Blackbox provides a direct mobile interface with H.I.V.E.mind and you may consult him at any time of the day or night for help or advice. He can provide you with all of the details of your timetable and any outstanding schoolwork that you may be due to complete, as well as advising you on any other aspect of school life that you may be unsure about.’ The Contessa continued, ‘The Blackbox is essentially indestructible: it is waterproof, shock-proof, fire-proof, radiation-proof and will, I am told, even function in a vacuum. This is your single most important piece of school equipment and must be carried with you at all times. Failure to do so is a serious breach of school rules and offenders will be punished accordingly.’
Otto was willing to bet that this strict rule meant that it would be a lot easier to track the movements of a student who had to carry their Blackbox with them at all times. He also found the name of the device worrying, given that Blackboxes were normally used to determine what went wrong in an air disaster only after everyone aboard an aircraft was dead. He wondered if the children’s Blackboxes would serve a similar purpose if something ‘unfortunate’ should happen to them. Still, it was a direct link to H.I.V.E.mind and that could certainly prove useful.
‘Now, as promised, I shall escort you to your accommodation block and you can get settled into your quarters. Please follow me.’ The Contessa headed towards the Plotting Room door as the group stood up to follow her.
‘This,’ the Contessa said, ‘is accommodation area seven.’
The large high-roofed cavern had an impressive open stone-floored atrium in the centre, with a waterfall at one end, tumbling from a small cave near the roof and down the wall into a crystal-clear pool. Arranged around the atrium were groups of comfortable sofas and armchairs, many of which were occupied by students who appeared to come from a cross-section of all streams, judging by their uniforms. Some were sat alone working, flicking through books or scribbling in note pads, while others sat around in groups, engrossed in conversation or playing games. There were even some swimming in the pool at the base of the waterfall.
Around the walls of the cavern were wide balconies on four different levels. Strange twisting vines and other tropical plants hung from each balcony, and elevators in glass tubes could be seen ferrying people quickly between the different floors. Opening on to each balcony were rows of identical white doors, which would occasionally hiss open and shut as students came and went.
‘This is where you will spend much of your time when not in classes. There are many communal facilities in this area that you may wish to take advantage of, including libraries and games rooms, but I shall leave it to your new block monitor to explain this all to you in more detail. Now, where is Mr Khan?’ The Contessa looked around the room. ‘Ah, there he is. Come along.’ The Contessa set off across the atrium.
‘Well, this seems . . . erm . . . nice,’ Nigel said as they made their way across the broad atrium in pursuit of the Contessa.
‘As long as we all don’t have to share one bathroom,’ Shelby replied.
Otto noted that this area seemed to be designed on the same grand scale as all of the other facilities within H.I.V.E. that they had seen so far. It was as if the architect of the facility had been given a brief to make sure that the students were overwhelmed by its size. No doubt this was done deliberately to give the students the impression of being very small individual parts in a much larger machine. It was hard not to be impressed by such grandiose construction, but Otto reminded himself that big did not necessarily mean better.
The Contessa halted beside a group of three sofas arranged around a low table. Sitting in these seats were three older students, two boys and a girl, who were engaged in such a heated discussion that they did not notice the Contessa’s approach.
‘I don’t care what you say. He’s just a man, he’s not indestructible,’ said a tall black girl wearing a white uniform.
‘Then how come he’s still around after all these years, survived all those attempts to eliminate him?’ asked a thin boy with a crooked nose and a vertical scar across one eye. His black jumpsuit marked him out as an Alpha.
‘More to the point, why doesn’t he seem to have aged at all since he first appeared? He should be sixty or seventy years old now, but he still looks like he’s in his thirties,’ offered the third student, a handsome Indian boy with long dark hair that fell to his shoulders and a goatee beard, trimmed into an immaculate triangle, on his chin. He too wore the black jumpsuit of an Alpha stream student.
‘Maybe he’s not actually the same guy as when he first appeared. Maybe they just alter a younger man’s appearance to match his every few years and quietly replace him,’ the black girl replied.
‘Oh, come on, Jo, that’s ridiculous,’ the Indian boy shot back. ‘As if people wouldn’t be able to see the difference. Look, I’m telling you, he’s still the same guy, and if –’
‘Ahem.’ The Contessa cleared her throat and the boy turned, startled. Seeing her standing there, he immediately leapt to his feet.
‘Oh, sorry, Contessa. We didn’t see you there, we were just discussing . . . er . . .’ The boy looked at his companions, as if willing them to complete his sentence for him.
‘I know perfectly well what you were discussing, Mr Khan, and I hardly think that it’s a suitable topic when there are new recruits present, do you?’ She gave him a stern look.
‘No, Contessa, you’re right.’ The boy looked slightly embarrassed to be reprimanded like this in front of the other students.
‘Good, now let me introduce you to our latest Alpha recruits.’ She indicated the group standing behind her. ‘They’re all going to be residents in area seven, and I thought you could explain the set-up of their accommodation to them.’
‘Of course, Contessa.’ The boy turned his attention to the new students, giving them a broad smile.
Otto noticed that there were six studs on the boy’s collar arranged in the same pattern as normally seen on dice. The other two students who had been arguing with the boy also had six studs on their collar and Otto guessed that, like the single stud on his collar, they indicated a student’s current school year. The only difference was that the studs on Khan’s uniform were silver, which Otto assumed reflected his position of relative authority.
‘Very well.’ The Contessa turned back to the group. ‘I shall leave you all in Mr Khan’s capable hands. I’m sure I will see you all again soon in class. Do be sure to check your Blackboxes for details of your timetable. Lessons start first thing tomorrow morning. DON’T be late.’
Otto couldn’t help but feel slightly relieved as the Contessa walked away.
‘So you’re the new magg— er . . . first years, are you? Well, welcome to H.I.V.E. My name’s Tahir Khan and I’m the monitor for this accommodation area.’ Tahir seemed friendly, but Otto was starting to realise how deceptive appearances could be in this place.
‘If your first day’s been anything like mine was I’m sure you have about a thousand questions that urgently need answering, but I’m afraid that I probably can’t tell you much more than you already know right now. Best thing to do is to use your Blackbox to ask H.I.V.E.mind anything you’re not sure about. Don’t worry if it all seems a bit much at the moment, you learn quickly around here. You have to.’ He grinned at the group. ‘So why don’t I show you one of the rooms and then you can all get settled in before dinner. Come on.’
He set off across the cavern towards one of the elevators. It was a bit of a squeeze getting them all in but eventually the doors closed and they shot up to the fourth floor. Here Tahir stopped in front of one of the white doors.
‘This is a Standard Twin Habitation Unit, but we call them cells,’ he said with a wry grin. ‘But don’t worry, that’s just a nickname. They’re quite comfortable really.’ Tahir placed his hand on the smooth panel set into the wall next to the door, which briefly illuminated and bleeped. The door slid open.
‘Now we won’t all fit in here, so just gather round the doorway and I’ll show you the basics,’ Tahir continued, stepping into the room.
The room itself was outfitted in white and silver and looked comfortable, if a little cramped. Nearest the door were two white desks, one on either side of the room, with a monitor, mouse and keyboard on each. Sitting alongside the computers on both these desks were identical piles of books and a pile of pens, notebooks and other stationery. Then came twin stainless steel closets, again mirroring each other, recessed into each wall and, finally, two single beds. Between the beds, set into the rear wall, was another white door.
‘This place is probably the nearest thing you’ll get to any privacy round here, so make the most of it. The computers you can see on the desks are directly interfaced with Big Blue – sorry,’ Tahir apologised, noting the momentary looks of confusion on some of their faces, ‘that’s what some of us call H.I.V.E.mind. Then you’ve got your closets. Hang your uniform in your wardrobe each night and you’ll find a clean one there in the morning. And before you ask, no, I don’t know how they get in to change them without anyone ever noticing. They just seem to materialise.’
Interesting, Otto thought.
‘Then you’ve got your beds and through the other door your bathroom. I’m not going to explain how everything works in there. You’re all Alphas, not grunts, so I shouldn’t have to.’ Otto detected more than a hint of smugness, arrogance, even, in the way that Tahir said this. He seemed just a little too proud to be wearing the black uniform.
‘All the rooms are the same so most of us make some attempt to liven them up a bit. Just one piece of advice, don’t paint anything. The janitor tends to get upset about that and you don’t want to upset him, believe me.’ He stepped back out of the room and the door slid shut behind him automatically. ‘All the doors are keyed to these palm readers.’ He indicated the panel he had placed his hand on a few moments before. ‘So there’s no need for keys, which is good because it’s unlikely you’re going to lose your right hand. At least not in your first year, anyway . . .’ Worryingly, Tahir didn’t appear to be joking.
‘Use your Blackboxes to find out from H.I.V.E.mind which room is yours and who your room-mate will be. You’ve got about an hour before dinner so take this time to have a look around. If you need any help, you can usually find me somewhere around the atrium or you can just give me a call on your box. OK, that’s about it for now. I’ve got to get moving or I’ll miss Grappletag practice. Good luck.’ He winked at the assembled group and strode away down the balcony.
Several of those around Otto pulled out their Blackboxes and queried H.I.V.E.mind about which room they had been assigned. Otto followed suit, flipping the device open.
‘Good afternoon, Mr Malpense. How may I be of assistance?’ the blue face enquired.
‘Good afternoon to you too, H.I.V.E.mind. I need to know which room I have been assigned, please,’ Otto replied.
‘You are assigned to accommodation area seven, room 4.7. Will there be anything else?’ H.I.V.E.mind asked.
‘No, that’s all for now. Thanks, H.I.V.E.mind.’ The blue face disappeared.
Otto noticed that Wing was also checking his Blackbox and as he talked to the machine a broad grin spread across his face. He noticed Otto looking at him.
‘It appears we are to be room-mates, Otto,’ he said, still smiling.
‘I hope you don’t snore,’ Otto laughed.
‘Like a chainsaw, my friend, like a chainsaw,’ Wing replied, grinning.
Room 4.7 was exactly the same as the room they had been shown, just as Tahir had said it would be. Otto sat at his desk, idly flicking through one of the neatly stacked textbooks. Studying their titles, Otto doubted that they were set texts at any other school in the world. Death-traps: Their Use and Care, Effective Threats, Elementary Evil, Global Domination: What You Need to Know!, A Beginner’s Guide to Doomsday Weapons and several others that he’d not yet had a chance to look at.
Wing sat on his bed studying his Blackbox intently.
‘Well, what have we got tomorrow, then?’ Otto asked.
‘The first lesson is Villainy Studies with . . .’ Wing checked the machine again, ‘Dr Nero. Well that should at least be an interesting start to the day.’
Otto raised an eyebrow at his new room-mate.
‘Then what?’
Wing checked the Blackbox again. ‘Then we have Tactical Education with Colonel Francisco. That’s followed by Practical Technology with Professor Pike first thing after lunch and then Stealth and Evasion with Ms Leon.’
‘Sounds like a highly educational first day. I can hardly wait to get started.’ Otto grinned, placing the textbook he’d been leafing through back on the desk. He moved over and sat on his own bed facing Wing. Beckoning him to lean closer, he said softly, ‘We have to get out of here, off this island, as soon as possible.’
Wing frowned slightly. ‘Agreed. H.I.V.E. is certainly impressive, but I have no desire to spend the next few years of my life as a virtual prisoner.’
‘My sentiments exactly,’ replied Otto, nodding. ‘The problem is how. I’ve not seen any sign of an exit to the surface and I’ve been looking for one all day.’
‘As have I, but even if we were to find an exit, what would we do once we got to the surface? I doubt that we would be given enough time to construct a raft.’
‘We might not need to. Did you notice the sign pointing to the submarine pen earlier?’ Otto asked, his voice dropping to a whisper. He’d searched the room thoroughly as soon as the door had closed but he still wasn’t sure if the room was bugged or not. It looked clean, but until he knew for certain, he had decided that he would work on the assumption that any unguarded conversations should not be treated as private.
Wing looked at Otto carefully and replied in a whisper, ‘Yes, I saw it, but are you seriously proposing that we use a stolen submarine as our escape vehicle? How would we pilot it? Somehow I suspect that requests for submariner lessons will arouse a certain amount of suspicion.’
‘I could do it, I don’t need lessons,’ Otto said calmly.
‘You know how to pilot a submarine?’ Wing arched one eyebrow.
‘No, but I’m a quick learner,’ Otto replied with a slight smile.
‘You would have to be. You’ll forgive me if I choose not to stake my life on your ability to improvise.’ Wing seemed almost irritated that Otto was suggesting something so ridiculous.
Otto suspected that Wing probably thought he was losing his mind. He could understand his disbelief, but Otto knew that if he could get a couple of uninterrupted minutes to examine any vehicle he’d be able to pilot it. Assuming that it was physically possible for one person to do it of course, but they would cross that bridge when they came to it. The problem would be convincing Wing that he could do it. ‘Trust me, I know what I’m doing’ wasn’t going to cut it when he was effectively asking his new friend to put his life in his hands.
‘Anyway, it doesn’t really matter until we get some idea of what the security around the submarine pen is like,’ Otto said. ‘The fact that it’s so openly signposted means that our hosts are confident that it’s secure.’
Wing nodded. ‘Indeed, security is clearly taken quite seriously around here.’
That was something of an understatement. There had seemingly been security cameras in the corner of every room during the tour. Steel spheres, the size of a tennis ball with a single black eye surrounded by blue LEDs, intended presumably to remind students that these were the eyes of the all-seeing H.I.V.E.mind. A person would have to be invisible to make their way around H.I.V.E. undetected, or maybe . . . Otto felt a familiar tingling as the seed of a plan began to germinate in his head.
‘Well, let’s just keep our eyes and ears open for now and see if any other opportunities present themselves. Anyway,’ continued Otto, ‘I haven’t thanked you properly for saving my skin at lunch today. I’m not sure what I’d have done without your help.’
‘You seemed to be handling the situation quite admirably,’ Wing replied. ‘You certainly subdued your first assailant efficiently.’
‘You just have to know which buttons to press,’ Otto smiled. ‘Or, more accurately, what vulnerable clusters of sensitive nerve-endings to press.’
‘I fear we may have drawn unwelcome attention with our actions. Dr Nero did not seem pleased,’ said Wing, frowning slightly.
Otto knew what Wing meant. Otto rarely met people who he truly considered to be his equal, so when he did it meant that they were people to be added to the pile marked ‘Dangerous’. At the moment Dr Nero was right at the top of that pile. Otto would have to discreetly find out as much as he possibly could about Nero without attracting his closer attention. He felt certain that you didn’t want to be top of the Doctor’s ‘Things to Do’ list. Unbidden a mental image formed in Otto’s head of a giant Dr Nero using a magnifying glass to focus the burning rays of the sun on to a little white-haired ant. He dismissed the disturbing image from his mind and rose from the bed. ‘Well, here’s hoping that we don’t have a repeat performance at dinner. Speaking of which, we’d better get going or we’ll be late.’
Wing hadn’t been joking about the snoring. Otto lay in his bed with a hastily fashioned toilet-paper plug in each ear. He could no longer hear Wing, but he swore he could feel his bed vibrating slightly.
Dinner had thankfully passed uneventfully. Block and Tackle had been there but they’d been seated at a distant table with a group of similarly hulking brutes, all of them wearing the same blue henchman overalls. Save for a couple of murderous stares when either Wing or Otto had inadvertently caught their eye they had steered well clear of the new recruits. The security guards patrolling the cavern probably had something to do with that. It also became clear that the staff did not eat dinner with the students since the top table had remained empty throughout the course of the meal. Otto wondered what their evening dining arrangements might be.
After dinner he and Wing had spent a couple of hours exploring the accommodation block’s facilities. This had included an abortive game of darts which was abandoned after Wing hit nine bull’s-eyes in a row. The more time Otto spent with Wing the more the large, well-spoken Asian boy surprised him. He had tried gently probing Wing for more details of his background but when Wing had seemed reluctant to discuss the topic Otto had dropped it, not wanting his curiosity to damage the friendship that was developing between them. After all, if they didn’t come up with a plan and do something about their current situation they’d have six long years to find out all about each other.
The plan that Otto was nurturing was still slowly forming in his mind, but the more he concentrated on it the more elusive the details seemed. He knew that he had to just stop consciously thinking about it and over time the problems with the scheme would resolve themselves, but he was impatient – he felt trapped.
As he lay in bed, blissfully deaf to the ungodly noise coming from Wing’s side of the room, he found himself mentally going over the events of the weeks leading up to his arrival at H.I.V.E. Looking back on it now, he supposed it had all started with the letter . . .