The atmosphere shimmered before it disappeared, replaced by the sterile white of the simulation room. The sudden shift back to reality was disorienting, as the frenzied sounds of the city were replaced by the soft hum of air rushing through the vents overhead.
Colt’s heart pounded and his hands shook as they ran over his ribs. His side was tender to the touch, and the blood that stained his uniform was warm and sticky. He wondered if Agent O’Keefe had lied to them about the danger, or if there had been some kind of mix-up when the instructor programmed the simulation. Either way, thanks to Colt’s fall, the simple act of breathing had become painful.
As he looked up, Colt noticed that the other cadets were staring at him. “What?” he said.
“You’re one of them, aren’t you?” Pierce asked, stepping forward. It was more of an accusation than a question. “I mean, it’s either that or you’re some kind of freak mutant. Nobody could do what you did in that simulation.”
Colt’s heart raced. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play stupid,” Pierce said. “My dad warned me that shapeshifters would try and infiltrate this place, and he was right.”
“Whatever.” Colt fought the urge to run. What if the metamorphosis had begun? Had his skin been replaced by green scales? Were his eyes glowing? He was desperate for a mirror, but he stood there unmoving, trying to play it cool.
“Then how did you tear the tentacle off that thing?” Pierce asked. “And how did you survive jumping out of a skyscraper without a parachute?”
Colt relaxed, though just a little. If there had been a physical change, Pierce would have mentioned that first. “It’s called luck,” he said. “Or maybe it was adrenaline. How do I know? I just reacted.”
“Liars won’t look you in the eye, and they get sarcastic,” Pierce said. “You know, to try and throw you off.”
Colt made a point of looking Pierce directly in the eye. “What, so now you’re an interrogation expert too? I’m surprised they haven’t given you Lobo’s job already.”
Everyone laughed.
“All you’re doing is proving my point,” Pierce said as his face flushed red.
“What’s wrong with you?” Danielle asked. “Besides the fact that you’re obviously jealous.”
“Of him? Yeah, right.”
“Be careful,” Colt said. “You didn’t look her in the eye. And you have to admit, it was kind of sarcastic.”
There was more laughter as Pierce clenched his hands. “Don’t try and flip this around, McAlister. You’re not going to think it’s funny when the Depart of Alien Affairs shows up and takes you away in handcuffs.”
Pierce’s father was on the Senate Committee on Intelligence, which oversaw the DAA, but Colt doubted that Pierce had that kind of pull. Still, the idea of being led out of the academy in handcuffs was unnerving.
“If Colt was a shapeshifter, then why did he fight against the Thule back in Arizona?” Danielle said. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“How am I supposed to know? Maybe it was a setup.”
“I didn’t think it was possible, but maybe you really are as dumb as you look,” Oz said, surprising Colt by coming to his defense.
“Then how do you explain what he did?” Pierce asked. “I mean, there was no way we were going to beat that scenario, and then Colt shows up and takes out Intellitron with his bare hands? Give me a break. He’s one of them.”
“Have you actually seen a shapeshifter up close?” Oz asked. “Not a picture, but in the flesh?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“That’s what I thought. What color is their blood?”
“Everybody knows that,” Pierce said. “It’s green.”
“And what color is his blood?” Oz nodded toward Colt, who had bloodstains all over his uniform.
“That’s just some kind of trick,” Pierce said.
The door to the observation deck opened, and Agent O’Keefe came running down the staircase, his round face a deep shade of red as his boots pounded the steps. Agent Graves was nowhere to be seen. “Is everyone okay?” He was breathing heavily and dabbing a handkerchief across his brow. “I’m not sure what happened, but . . .” His voice trailed off when he saw Colt. “Oh my.”
“It looks worse than it feels,” Colt said, though he couldn’t help wincing.
“This is O’Keefe,” the agent said, speaking into the communicator on his wrist. “We need a medibot in simulation room four, and we need it now!”
“Really, I’m fine.”
“Nonsense,” Agent O’Keefe said. “Now let me take a look at that.”
Colt raised his arm to show him the gash across his ribs.
“In all my years, nothing like this has ever happened,” Agent O’Keefe said. “I swear on the Holy Bible that I programmed a Level One scenario, but somehow it ran at Level Three. I don’t know what went wrong.”
Colt’s first thought was that Krone had broken into the system and changed the settings, just as he’d done with that robot back at Oz’s house.
The doors to the simulation room opened, and a white robot with a red cross on its chest plate rolled in. It was squat, with a perfectly square body, a flat head, long arms with delicate fingers, and track wheels like a miniature tank.
“Over here,” Agent O’Keefe said, waving his thick arm. “As for the rest of you, you’re dismissed.”
Pierce hesitated before he moved close enough that Colt could hear him whisper. “This isn’t over . . . not by a long shot.”