Banquet tables had been erected on the deck, and a breakfast of eggs, sausage, toast, hot coffee, and juice had been laid out for the Ocean Term students once they cleaned up. Barker took his place once all the students had taken theirs. The minister of tourism and his deputy were at Barker’s left, and Stephanie and Patch were to his right. He said a few quick words, congratulating everyone, and then told them to eat. The students loaded their plates and ate as if they had been starving for days. The Ariadne moved at maximum speed, and by the time the plates were being cleared she was coming into the port of Barcelona.
Patch had been to Barcelona a couple times. When his dad was in his architecture phase he had brought all the Flood kids there to see the Gaudi buildings, which were all very intricate and covered with mosaic and eccentric detail. But he had never approached it by water, and the city looked much more modern and industrial to him when he came at it this way. The harbor was wide, and huge tankers were crowding up the docks. In the early morning, the whole scene was glittery and futuristic and Patch was caught up in staring.
He snapped out of it when Stephanie stood up next to him and said, “Now to announce the winners.”
Patch didn’t really care about winners. He felt most comfortable in the limbo of travel, and he had liked the Ocean Term adventure for a while. But some of it was really forced and stupid, and the whole thing was losing his interest. He especially disliked the competitive aspect of it all, which seemed counter to exploring places in a real way. Stephanie announced the first- and second-place winners, and some of the teams in front of him were cheering for themselves.
He looked over to see where his friends were. For a minute he couldn’t place them, but then he did and it wasn’t pretty. Mickey was jumping up and down and shaking his head like a boxer about to start a fight, and Arno was strutting around him and saying something that didn’t look cool. Greta stood up from the table and tried to step in between them, but Arno pushed her away.
“And now, for first prize,” Stephanie called out, “will group number fifteen, Greta O’Grady, Arno Wildenburger, and Mickey Pardo, please stand!”
Everyone looked over to where Arno and Mickey were squaring off. Mickey barreled forward, with his head into Arno’s chest, knocking him over. There was a gasp from the crowd of students. Then Arno and Mickey were rolling around on the deck, hitting and yelling at each other.
“Stop them!” Barker yelled. Just then the boat stopped with a grunt, and the workers down below began securing it to the dock. Patch ran over and pulled Mickey away from Arno. They all stood panting for a second. Mickey’s lips were peeled back, like he might start biting.
“Yo, what are you guys doing?” Patch asked.
Arno straightened his shirt defensively, and Mickey shook Patch off. “Nothing,” they both said. Greta came up next to Patch.
“I think at first they were fighting over me,” she whispered in his ear. “But then it started being about something else entirely. Mickey started talking about how Arno’s mother was a home-wrecker, and then Arno basically said that Mickey’s mom was a whore. That’s when they started fighting.”
“Oh.” It occurred to Patch that without Jonathan calling them up all the time and putting out their fires, the crew was really falling apart. He was trying to think of a way to convey this to Mickey and Arno, but then he felt Stephanie’s hands on his arm.
“Are you all right?” she gasped.
Barker jogged up behind her, breathing heavily. The minister of tourism was close behind, and Barker seemed to be apologizing under his breath. He looked embarrassed. And furious. Arno stepped forward, smiling. Usually Arno was smooth enough to get himself out of these situations, but in this case he was too out of breath to fend for himself. Mickey howled and ran at him with a closed fist, landing it squarely on Arno’s jaw. Arno recovered, and leaped on Mickey, and before long all the kids were cheering them on.
It took a few minutes for Patch and Greta to pull them apart, and by that time Barker was practically frothing at the mouth.
“You ungrateful little brats!” he hissed. “There is no drinking on my ship as you know, but there is also no fighting. I made the mistake of selecting you as the winners of the survival test. You have proved yourselves most unworthy. You are banished! Banished!”
Patch tried to intervene, but Barker waved him away.
“Pardo and Wildenburger, go to your cabins and pack your bags. When this ship sets sail tomorrow, you will not be on it!”