CHANGE OF SEASONS

Josh sat with Hamim and Devon at one of the long tables in the main dining hall of Enchanted Island, waiting for Zoe to return from taking Shana and Giz to Little Wizards. All three were crunching on spoonfuls of cereal from molded plastic bowls that were decorated with glued-on “jewels.” Nearby sat a cluster of kidlets (the name everyone now used for the youngest Islanders), and above them, a large mounted dragon’s head looked down longingly on the diners from a large oak plaque.

“You gonna eat that biscuit?” it asked one of the kids, who happened to be Zoe’s brother, Sam. “You wanna toss it up here?”

“You don’t got a stomach!” Sam yelled back. “You’re just a head!”

The dragon head rolled its eyes. “So? A head’s got a mouth. I can still taste it.”

“That’s dumb.”

“You’re dumber,” said the dragon.

Josh grinned. Alex, the English kid who’d organized the Islands’ theatre troupes, always did a great job voicing the dragon. After nearly a year, some of the kids still hadn’t figured out the thing wasn’t alive.

The argument continued, with Sam getting increasingly incensed. Finally, he picked up the biscuit and hurled it at the dragon’s head. The creature opened its mouth, trapping the missile between its jaws.

“Ha!” it said, and Josh was impressed that Alex managed to sound as though his mouth was full. “Gotcha!”

Zoe’s voice cut through the laughter. She was standing at the head of the table, trying not to smile.

“Josh! Hamim! Move your butts! I’m already late for the Pods.”

Josh shoved another spoonful of cereal in his mouth. “Hamim and I aren’t finished yet. Neither are Spam and Bratty.”

“Then get ’em ready. Latisha’s waiting. And I told you not to use those stupid names anymore.”

“They like ’em.”

Zoe sighed and turned to Devon. “Think you can get everyone moving?”

“Sure.” Devon pulled a sleeve across his mouth, then leaned over and rapped on the table in front of the other two kids. “C’mon, Dudes. Gotta go.”

“Devon’s gotta go,” Sam said to Maddie solemnly. “He’s gonna poop his pants.” Maddie screamed with laugher, and Josh grinned, remembering the days when Sam didn’t talk.

They all pushed away from the table and headed over to Zoe. She seemed about to continue her lecture, but then leaned toward Josh, squinting at his chin. “Wait a minute. You getting a beard?”

“No. Yeah. Kind of. Just a few hairs.” But he couldn’t help grinning.

“Ooooh. I’m impressed.”

“Yeah.” He almost said something about what was happening to Zoe’s chest, but decided against it.

At least they didn’t have to worry about these physical changes anymore. When the first kids hit puberty, they’d all been terrified, waiting to see if the plague would somehow return and claim them. Nothing had happened, though, and further “developments” were watched with great interest. In fact, some of the older kids had already paired off, including Ari and Lana. This had necessitated some awkward facts-of-life conversations between Josh, Zoe, and their mystified kidlets, especially when a few of the girls started wearing looser clothes to accommodate softly rounded bellies.

Hamim was one of the Islanders who had benefited most from the hormone surge. He’d grown three inches and slimmed down, and a lot of the Island girls were starting to find reasons to ask him for help or get assigned to his work teams. So far, he’d been flattered—and slightly embarrassed—but he’d shown little interest in any of them. Except for Zoe, maybe. Josh noticed that he followed her around a lot, always looked for things he could bring her or do for her. And Josh wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

“So,” said Zoe, breaking into his thoughts. “Where you guys stationed today?”

“Kitchen,” said Hamim. “Sometimes I wish I had never said that my mother taught me to cook.”

“I’m over at the Oceans,” said Josh. “We gotta put some of the babies into a separate tank so the big ones don’t eat ’em, like last time. Or pretty soon, no more fish fry.”

“This is interesting,” said Hamim. “You save them so I can cook them. Somehow, it does not seem right.”

“Then stop making them taste so good.”

“Perhaps I should not cook them at all.”

“Wouldn’t work,” said Zoe. “We’d just start ordering sushi.”

“Then I seem to have no choice,” sighed Hamim. He grinned. “See you at home.” He headed off toward Atlantis and the kitchens, and Zoe and Josh ushered the kidlets out the door.

Josh sensed something falling before he saw it.

“Watch out!” he yelled, yanking Maddie backward. A huge plaster leaf crashed to the ground in front of them, shattering into dust. Josh looked up and saw that it had broken off one of the giant vines that wrapped around the dining hall doorway, like Jack’s beanstalk.

“Damn,” said Zoe, staring at the rubble. “Some of these places are falling apart faster than Greg and his crew can fix them.”

It was true. Without the army of maintenance workers that had once cared for the park, the buildings and grounds were definitely beginning to suffer. The paint was peeling, streets and walkways were cracked and pockmarked, and the exotic gardens and topiary hedges had run wild, creating strange, junglelike terrains that gave each Island the look of a lost civilization or an alien city. Even the Coral Palace had lost some of its splendor, its colors fading and some of its fragile spires breaking off in high winds.

The problems weren’t restricted to the buildings, either—the Islands had also lost many of the animals. At first, no one had known how to monitor or maintain the chemicals and ph-levels in the aquarium tanks, or how to determine the amount and type of food needed to keep the larger land animals healthy. So some of the creatures in the BioPods sickened and died, as did many of the larger sea creatures. After two of the much-loved dolphins were lost, the Core decided the rest should be released into the lagoon, to survive as best they could. The aquarium workers focused their efforts on maintaining a few of the smaller tanks and the more edible fish.

Still, the park remained remarkably functional, primarily because the Brainiacs had made sure that the extraordinary computers and power systems didn’t fail. And though most of the big rides had been shut down after the Tsunami, morale was pretty high thanks to the O’Bannion Boys and a raft of other FunDay volunteers.

You just had to watch out for falling plaster leaves.

“That was really close,” said Zoe. “Glad your Spidey-sense was working.”

“Yeah,” Josh said, fear-sweat prickling under his arms. He decided not to think about what had almost happened. “So what’re you doing in the Pods?” he asked Zoe.

“Veggies.” She grimaced. “The boringest, stupidest job in the world. Prune and pick. Prune and pick.”

“Hey, you could be on Health Patrol. Or in the laundry. Besides,” he intoned, quoting one of Neptune’s platitudes, “there are no bad jobs, only bad attitudes.”

“Shut up. You sound like a Clone.” That was Zoe’s name for the kids who tried to act like Milo and parroted everything he said. “Besides, have you noticed that certain people, like you, always get the good jobs, and others, like me, get the crummy ones?”

“Not true.”

“Oh, yeah? So how come the Atlantis kids are still the only ones working on the computers or at the aquarium?”

“I’m not Atlantan.”

“No, but you’re connected. Ever since the first weeks, when you were so tight with the Core. And connected people get treated better.”

Josh didn’t say anything: no good could come of this conversation. Besides, as the months passed, he’d become less and less involved with the Core. They had too many impromptu meetings at the Palace, often late at night or after the weekly Council meetings were officially over. For a while, Milo tried to keep Josh a part of what was happening, but his efforts gradually tailed off. Josh sometimes wondered if he’d been stupid not to move into the Palace when he’d had the chance.

Well, nothing he could do about that now.

He and Zoe continued their sprint across the Islands until they crossed over the bridge to Inspiration. In front of them was the Holodome, with its sleek, twisted steel surfaces. To the left of the Holodome was the Kinetic Playground, and just beyond that was Digital Dimensions, a complex of TV and animation studios where shows like Dr. Meek, Science Freak had once been filmed for the Wonder Channel. It was where many of the Teachers now held their classes.

Moving the school to Inspiration Island had been Latisha’s idea. At first, all of the kidlets had to be dragged to classes and sat like sullen lumps once they were there. Josh could hardly blame them—the Teachers used books from the souvenir stores to teach reading, or passed out old-fashioned worksheets they had downloaded from education Web sites before the Internet crashed for good.

But one day, while watching her friend Kim take apart a motor in the Exploratorium, Latisha had had her brainstorm. Why not take advantage of everything the Visioneers had created? The Holodome was a natural for history lessons and geography, and the LifePods could be used for biology. Kim, a born inventor whose brain worked so quickly that her words stumbled over each other, could teach things like computer science and basic engineering.

Even the littlest Islanders would benefit from the change, Tish pointed out, since several of the sets at Digital Dimensions had been designed for kid-sized game shows and educational programs. What better way to teach the basics? Soon, the kidlets were begging to go to school and protesting when it was FunDay. Some of the older kids became regulars, too.

Josh and Zoe entered the main studios and led Sam, Devon, and Maddie down a long hallway to one of the smaller sound-stages. They went through the entrance doors, which were near the top of the audience seating area, and surveyed the room.

Latisha and another Teacher named Miguel stood in the middle of the set for What Do YOU Know? Miguel, a happy little math geek who once tried to explain to Josh why the number seven was “intrinsically interesting,” had his hand poised above an oversized timer. In front of him were fifteen kids, all sitting in contestants’ chairs behind high counters. Each had a pad of paper, a pencil, and a determined expression.

Zoe and Josh began herding their kidlets down the stairs, and Latisha turned and waved.

“Come on, guys,” she called. “We’re doing Mad Mad Math. Prizes galore if you’re last on the floor!” Sam and Maddie whooped and raced down the stairs to join their friends. Devon followed more slowly, trying not to look eager. Latisha tapped each of them on the head with a set of flash cards as they went by, then moved toward the stairs, where she hugged both Josh and Zoe.

“Hey, handsome. Hey, girlfriend.”

“Hey, Tish,” said Josh. “Hey, Miguel.” The other boy saluted.

Zoe pretended to pout. “Thought you guys weren’t going to do Mad Math ’til the next time I could make it.”

“We weren’t,” said Tish. “But the six-year-olds started complaining. Said you were winning all the stuff.”

“Whiners.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll save you a prize.”

“Oh. Okay, then.” They laughed.

“Got any field trips planned this week?” Josh asked.

“Yeah. Maria’s going to take the ’tweeners to the Pods, teach them about mammals. A few are going to start apprenticing there soon, so it’s good timing.”

“Let me know when they’re coming. I can show them the hydroponics,” said Zoe.

“That’d be great. Thanks.”

Tish motioned to Miguel to start the math game while she and Zoe shared a few more minutes of news and gossip. Josh waited patiently for them to finish. But then Zoe motioned Tish closer. Her voice dropped.

“You going to Council tonight?”

“Sure,” said Latisha. “You know me. Gotta put my two cents in.”

That’s for sure, thought Josh. Tish and Zoe made their opinions known at almost every meeting, much to the annoyance of the Core. Josh himself just liked to hear about new ideas, new plans. Milo was always coming up with something worth listening to.

Zoe took another step closer to Latisha. “I was thinking that maybe it’s time to mention … you know.”

“Yeah. I think you’re right.”

Josh looked from one to the other. “What?”

Zoe glanced at Tish, who nodded. “We were thinking that no one’s talked about Outside for a long time. That maybe it’d be good to see what’s going on.”

Josh was startled. “But it’s gone black. Months ago. The sentries said.”

“I know. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t people. Or things we should know about. Anyhow, Tish and I want to talk about it.”

Josh shook his head. “But you guys are always causing trouble at Council, Zoe. First you’re complaining about the food rations—”

“Because Milo and the Atlantans always seem to get a little more of the good stuff. And don’t pretend you haven’t noticed.”

“Well, but maybe they deserve it. They work pretty hard.”

“Harder than you? Harder than Tish? Come on.”

“Okay, okay. But then at last Council you were complaining that Caleb—”

“—is a moron. Well, he is. Him and the rest of the Goon Squad. Too much power, not enough control. And what about that little jail of theirs that no one talks about?”

“It’s not a jail—just some place UnderGround for kids who need time to cool off, like when they get into fights or something.”

“Or for kids who break the rules. Or don’t do their jobs.”

“Well, the Core needs some way to keep things under control. And by the way, it doesn’t help that you call Caleb’s group the Goon Squad.”

“Why? They are goons.”

Josh sighed. “Fine. I’m just saying that if you keep causing trouble, Milo and the rest of the Core are gonna get really pissed.”

Zoe looked at him coolly.

“I’ll take my chances. I mean, do you really think we can stay on the Islands forever? Think about that leaf that almost cracked Maddie’s head open a few minutes ago.”

She looked back at Latisha.

“So, Tish. Tonight?”

“Tonight.”

Suddenly, Josh wasn’t looking forward to Council anymore.