Ignition Point (2 page)

Thomas watched, his breath held in his chest, as Alex moved down the center aisle. But Alex moved past Thomas’s bunk to one across the room and a row down. The other boy, the one who’d hissed the Slaver insult at Thomas that evening, was a lump on the bottom bunk. Thomas couldn’t tell if he was awake in the dark.

Clearly, Alex didn’t care. He reached down and thumped the kid’s foot under the sheet. There was a hiss of breath exhaling in pain, and then the whites of the kid’s eyes shone in the dark as he sat up and returned Alex’s stare.

“Don’t you ever start shit in my room again, Patrick. Not ever.” Alex’s voice was loud, but hoarse. His voice broke, but Thomas didn’t think it was tears. It was his age. Or it was rage.

“But he—”

“He what? Defended himself?”

Silence, except for the sound of shifting bodies as the other boys, still awake, moved to hear better or to strain their eyes in the dark to see what would happen, just as Thomas himself was doing.

“This is my room. I decide who’s going down, and when, and how. He’s new. He didn’t know better. But you?” Alex shook his head. “You start making decisions, start showing them we’ve got no discipline, then I’m gonna decide you’re challenging me. You wanna challenge me, Patrick?”

Patrick shook his head—panicked, quick shakes back and forth.

“It won’t happen again unless
I
say so. You got that?”

At Patrick’s nod, Alex turned. His eyes shone in the dark as he turned them up to meet Thomas’s across the aisle. Thomas nodded his own understanding, two slow movements of his head before he turned his eyes back to the ceiling.

He was awake long after Alex had made his painful way back to bed.

* * *

Thomas watched out of the corner of his eye as the Senior Ward made his way up the aisle between the rows of wide desks covered in scattered electrical parts, headed toward their table again.

Of course, Thomas was pretty sure only one of the boys at the table had any reason to be nervous, and all four of them knew it. Thomas had watched Alex struggle with the logic gates of the exercise day after day over the last week. The capacitor Alex was building shorted out again and again. From the reactions of their classmates as they leaned away from the frustrated larger boy, and the ire and mockery of the Senior Ward responsible for the lesson, this was not a new situation for Alex. It was, however, not good that Alex still hadn’t figured it out.

Thomas had understood from the first day, even though he’d never had formal electrical training. The routing of electricity, the use of logical pause points, was an elegant explanation of the work he’d done instinctually since he was small. It simply made sense. In the time it took Alex to figure out how to make one gate function, Thomas had already built several practice capacitors.

Unfortunately for Alex, these capacitors were meant to be inserted into the deconstructed Tasers they were to earn at the end of the lesson. It was the first time they’d be issued one of the weapons of an agent, and they were expected to build it themselves. If Alex couldn’t manage the capacitor, he’d fail. No capacitor. No Taser to build. And then no successful final project to carry him into the next year’s class.

Apparently, a young Ward could scrub out of the Ward School if he wasn’t good enough. He still didn’t go home to his family—that was never an option. Instead, he went to a relo-city in a new Zone as a lowly ward of the Council instead of a powerful agent. It was a humiliation the upper classmen liked to use as a threat.

“You
still
don’t have it, Junior?” The Senior’s voice was smug and loud, meant to carry across the room. The man, in his early twenties, leaned over Alex as if to speak conspiratorially, but he never lowered his voice. “And here everyone thought the perfect little Sparklet had such
promise
. Who knew
you’d
be the one to choke?”

Thomas’s gaze flashed up in surprise. Were the words a taunt meant for him, as well? Were they coming down harder on Alex because he’d helped Thomas make it through the obstacle course exam the week before?

In the three weeks since he’d first arrived at the Ward School, Thomas knew he’d gone from a curiosity to a resounding disappointment. It was clear that outside of his academic prowess, Thomas was not just unimpressive, he was boring. It made him a prime target, but Alex wouldn’t allow the boys in their unit to participate in the harassment.

Thomas wasn’t sure what his reasoning was, beyond Alex being used to leading the unit that excelled. Perhaps he thought if he was going to be saddled with Thomas, he would figure out how to make the skinny little Scav rescue excel, as well.

They’d had their physical exam the week before, on an obstacle course each unit had been given a week to practice on. Alex’s unit had practiced the week before Thomas arrived. Exam day had been the first opportunity Thom had to even see the run, much less attempt it. To everyone’s surprise—including his own—Thomas made a decent showing. He struggled to keep up, but he did.

Until he hit the wall.

The last obstacle on the course before the homestretch run was a sheer wall, constructed of large blocks of squared stone. The seams lined up at irregular intervals, sometimes providing a toe- or finger-hold, sometimes giving nothing. Thomas slid down it again and again.

The fourth time he threw himself up it and failed, sliding back with his arms and shoulders stinging as much as his skinned hands and knees, he collapsed in defeat at the bottom, panting. Over the sound of his own breathing, he heard laughter. The rest of the unit had finished and circled back to stand respectfully behind the Senior Wards, watching them and the Guardian who was marking them. They were all laughing, even the disappointed Guardian. All of them except Alex.

Alex chewed his bottom lip as he stared down at Thomas through narrowed eyes. He didn’t say anything until the Guardian waved at Thomas, indicating he should get up.

“Walk around, Ward. Walk around.”

Thomas stood up, his legs shaking and the nerves in his back spasming. If he walked around the wall, he failed. He could leave the damn school. And the unit would earn demerits. That was a double win, wasn’t it?

“Sir? Wait.” Alex spoke, moving in front of the Guardian. “The unit doesn’t deserve demerits. We never had the chance to train him.” Alex swallowed when the Guardian seemed unimpressed. “May we have one more chance to get him over the wall, sir?”

“Get him over? The obstacle course is a test of individual fitness, Alex.”

“Yes, sir. We won’t be helping. Just…inspiring. To make up for his lack of training, sir.”

The Guardian glanced back over at Thomas. He raised a brow. “I’ll allow it. One chance.” He trudged away to the end of the course to wait, indicating the Senior Wards should follow.

They did. One looked back at Alex. “You know he’s just gonna choke again, right? This is a waste of time.” He turned to toss Thomas a contemptuous scowl. “You’re gonna choke.”

Alex waited until they were gone before he stepped closer. “Is that true? Are you gonna choke?”

Thomas remained silent. He didn’t know if he even wanted to try again. He couldn’t make it over when he was fresh, and he was tired now. He wanted to leave. He wanted it to be done.

“Patrick?” Alex didn’t move his eyes as he called over Thomas’s nemesis. The other boy trotted up, and Alex spoke to him while looking at Thomas. “I want you to go back to the start and run it again.”

“Run it again?” The other boy gaped at him.

“Yep. And if you make it back here and up and over this wall before Thomas does…” Alex finally turned to look at the other boy and give him a small smile. “You can have him. One minute for every demerit he earns us.”

Patrick hissed, “Yes!” And then he laughed, pointing at Thomas as he jogged backward to the start. “You’re mine! You know you’re gonna choke! Choke! Choke! Choke!”

The other boys in the unit took up the chant, willing to earn the demerits now that there was a payoff.

Thomas stared at Alex, rage and fear pulsing in his head in time with the chant. He opened his mouth to tell the Honor Ward exactly what he thought of him, but no words came out, just a strangled noise. Thomas was ashamed to feel tears well in his eyes. He blinked them back, swallowing hard and turning away to face the wall.

He felt Alex approach from behind. The bigger kid stood close beside him, looking up the wall.

“There’s a path, you know.”

Thomas huffed, not trusting himself to speak.

“There’s a path—finger-holds to pull yourself up. You’re small, so the way they’re spaced will be hard for you. You’ll have to let go and swing—” Alex turned a carefully neutral face to Thomas. “Without falling.”

Thomas refused to look at him.

“I’m just telling you. You don’t have to give up. I think you can do it, if you want to.” Alex looked over his shoulder. “But you better hurry up and decide. Patrick’s coming.”

Thomas made his decision before Alex had even made it back to their chanting unit-mates. Thom backed away from the wall, focused his eyes on a handhold above his head, and then ran and threw himself at it.

Screw them. They don’t know anything about me.

Thomas found the next hold with his eyes, held his breath, and used his toes and the swing of his body to launch himself up.

They don’t know any of the things I’ve been through. Choke? Me?

He found the next hold. And the next, even when he had to blink away the stinging sweat and squint up to find it above him. He launched himself up to the sound of boys calling for his failure, and he held on, even when a fingernail caught and peeled back and his fingers became slick with blood. He kept going, even when he heard the sound of fingers scrabbling behind him and the heavy breathing of Patrick vying for the chance to kick his ass.

Thomas had already been an orphan, thank you. He’d been a damn Neo-barb, too. He’d even been a slave. And now he was a Ward. And he hadn’t choked yet.

Thomas swung his leg up and over a good three seconds before Patrick. He threw his body over and let go, free-falling onto the drifted woodchips below.

He lay on his back, gasping to reclaim his breath, eyes squeezed shut. They were booing him. Thomas’s lips twisted.

Bunch of assholes.

He opened his eyes. Alex stood above him, grinning. He reached a hand out to Thomas, ignoring Patrick as he scrambled up.

Thomas warily took Alex’s hand, and Alex hauled him up, clasping him on the back.

“I toldja you wouldn’t choke again.” Alex had been smug. And Thomas thought he might be a little proud, too. “Now finish it.” He’d given Thomas a little shove toward the finish, where the Guardian and Senior Wards waited.

Alex wasn’t smug or proud now. His head was down, his cheeks flushed, and his lips pressed tightly together as the Senior Ward here in class taunted him with the same word they’d used against Thomas at the course.

“Well? Answer me, Alex. Did you ever think you’d be the one to choke?”

Alex raised his eyes, his hands shaking, a small tremor that gave away his rage and humiliation. “I haven’t choked yet,” he managed to get out. He clenched and released his hands. The shaking stopped.

The Senior smirked. “Well, then, show me what you can do. Make the capacitor work, Sparklet.”

Alex turned his eyes back down to the circuits and wires before him. Thomas turned his own attention back to the board in front of himself. It didn’t make sense to Thomas that Alex couldn’t handle the assignment. Alex’s energy bloom, the faint displacement like a heat shimmer that Sparks could use to identify the strength of another Spark, was bright. It was almost as bright as Thomas’s, and Thom knew that he was a Spark of rare strength. That wasn’t ego. It was fact. So why did Alex struggle with this?

From the corner of his eye, he saw the way Alex’s hands twitched open once, a brief flare of fingers indicating his helplessness.

Thomas didn’t even think about what he was doing. He reached out with his mind, felt the Dust in the board, and triggered the switches. It was simple. The board was the same as the one in front of him, except the gates were all wrong. A few quick corrections, and the current flowed. They’d never know.

Thomas tapped the connector to his own board to flash the light and demonstrate a correct set-up just a moment after Alex. He glanced over at the flash of Alex’s light.

“Hey!” Thom said. “Look at that. You did it.” Thomas threw a quick, innocent smile up at the scowling Senior.

Alex stared down at the board before him, eyes tracing along the circuits as if he could trace the movement of the invisible Dust they were learning to manipulate with their minds, to make it provide precious electrical current. He nodded his head, then flashed a weak smile of his own up at the Senior, who snorted and walked away, muttering about seeing if the Sparklet could put together the damn Taser.

Alex watched him go then returned his attention to the board, slowly pulling it apart again. Thomas was a little surprised that Alex didn’t speak again that class period. Apparently, the mystery help he’d received had caused Alex to swallow his usual bravado. Thomas got in another assembly before the three-note chime indicated class was over. But as soon as everyone else rose, piling together supplies to return to their bins, Alex turned, grabbing Thomas’s arm and pulling him back to the table. He leaned over to talk to Thomas.