11

WE’RE GOING TO cross the equator in twenty minutes!” Billy called out over the loudspeaker.

“Billy’s sure good with maps,” Steve said to Chad. The two of them were staring at the five screens. It was the second full day of the kids’ ocean voyage. The compucraft had passed uneventfully through the Panama Canal. All five contestants were busy doing chores.

“He is,” Chad answered.

“The ratings for today’s episode.” Jacob came in and handed Chad the familiar blue ratings sheet.

Steve read over Chad’s shoulder. “Seventy-three percent.”

“Hot Sauce must be furious,” Chad said.

“But these ratings are good. Most people are watching,” Steve said.

“You don’t understand. Last year, eighty percent of America watched D-Day Historical Survivor. This year’s Alamo Historical Survivor pulled only seventy-five percent. The ratings are steadily declining,” Chad explained.

“The viewers aren’t hooked on this series yet,” Jacob commented.

“The Secretary needs to create one of her calamities,” Chad said.

Steve laughed.

“You laugh.” Chad pointed at the ratings sheet. “But she will.”

“Oh, come on,” Steve said.

“Our government depends on good ratings,” Chad said.

“Of course. Good ratings mean that the crime rate stays low,” Steve said.

“That’s what they say,” Chad agreed with a sly smile.

Steve was certain that Chad knew more than he was telling. “What’s the real reason?”

“Did you know that less than ten percent of the public votes in elections?” Chad said.

“No.” Steve wasn’t old enough to vote yet. But he knew his mom and dad had never bothered to register.

“Well, the more TV people watch, the less likely they are to vote,” Chad said. “Do you understand yet?”

Steve shook his head.

“We’re still called a democracy,” Jacob broke in. “But only the politicians vote. They control who’s in office.”

“There’s a lot of pressure on the Secretary to keep the ratings up,” Chad said.

“The stakes are high. She’s got to be always on the lookout for a new gimmick,” Jacob added.

The series made more sense now. “So that’s why she’s using innocent kids,” Steve murmured.

Andrew had gone almost two whole days without watching television. He was surprised that he hadn’t been bored, but when he thought about his routine, he realized that he had been too busy.

All of them had settled into their jobs. Robert and Billy sorted and inventoried the gear. Polly read her books. Grace trained the dogs. Andrew worked with the ponies and did the odd jobs that Robert and Grace requested. At night, he talked with Polly.

“We’re crossing the equator in one minute!” Billy called out.

Andrew put down a sack that he had been packing. “I’m going on deck.” He knew there wasn’t a line in the ocean marking the equator, but he wanted to see for himself.

Robert nodded. “Break time.” He turned off the camp stove—or PRIMUS, as the vocabulary note had labeled it. The instructions said that an outer ring was used to melt snow for tea or cocoa while the inner pot was used to melt the snow to be mixed with pemmican. After playing with the Primus for twenty minutes, he felt he had learned how to work it in eighty-degree temperatures. The trick would be lighting it in subzero weather. He’d practice again this afternoon before training the others on how to use it.

Andrew walked up the stairs to the deck. It was late afternoon, but the sun was still shining. The water was bluer than Andrew had ever imagined it could be.

Grace was leaning over the rail, enjoying the feel of the wind.

Wearing a tank top, Polly was sitting on a deck chair, her hair blowing in the breeze.

A hit song was playing over the speaker system. Billy must have turned the radio on. “I’ve got the hologram blues. Just when I think I know you, you fade away like some poor hologram that don’t know how to play.”

Robert stood next to Andrew near the rail. “I’d really like a swim.”

“A swim would be great,” Andrew said. He took off his T-shirt. The late-afternoon sun felt good on his chest.

“Of course, this ship is going so fast, by the time I took a stroke it’d be out of sight.”

“Yeah,” Andrew said. He balled his T-shirt up in his hand and tossed it in the air.

“Andrew!” Polly yelled. “Throw me your T-shirt.”

Andrew tied his T-shirt into a knot before tossing it to Polly.

Polly caught it and tossed it back.

Billy walked out onto the deck. He intercepted the toss. “It’s a beach party,” he said. “Robert!”

While still turned away from Billy, Robert caught the T-shirt ball in one hand. He called out, “Grace!”

Grace caught it and tossed it to Polly. Polly tossed the T-shirt to Andrew, but it was high. Andrew jumped to catch it. The sun was shining so brightly that for a moment he was dazed. But his fingers closed around the soft ball, and he landed back squarely on the deck.

Polly clapped.

Grace laughed. “Good catch!” Robert called.

“He’s a football player!” Billy shouted.

“Hardly,” Andrew said, but he was pleased.

“The beach party was fun. When we start editing, I think we should leave in the whole scene. Don’t you agree?” Chad said.

“Sure,” Steve said. He hated to think about the reason the Secretary loved playful scenes. He guessed that they made the audience sadder when something bad happened.

All five kids were leaning against the rail. The wind was blowing through their hair. They looked as if they were on vacation.

“Steve,” Chad said, “why don’t you let Jacob take over? I need you to begin reviewing the e-mails from our viewers.”

Jacob seemed to notice Steve’s reluctance to leave the monitors. “Steve thinks he’s the kids’ baby-sitter.”

Jacob was right. Steve didn’t like leaving the kids; he wanted to see the rest of their day. But he couldn’t disobey his manager’s request.

Slowly Steve turned away.