Point Blanc (14 page)

Different
but the same
.
Watching them closely, Alex tried to figure out what he meant.

It was all in
the details, the things you wouldn't notice unless you saw them all
together, like they were now. The way they were all sitting with their backs
straight and their elbows close to their sides. The way they held their knives
and forks. Hugo laughed, and Alex realized that for a moment he had become a
mirror image of Cassian. It was the same laugh. He watched Joe eat a mouthful
of food. Then he watched Nicolas. They were two different boys. There was no
doubting that. But they ate in the same way, as if mimicking each other.

There was a
movement at the door, and suddenly Mrs. Stellenbosch appeared. "Good
afternoon, boys," she said.

"Good
afternoon, Mrs. Stellenbosch." Five people answered, but Alex heard
only one voice. He and James had remained silent.

"Lessons
this afternoon will begin at three o'clock. The subjects will be Latin
and French."

The lessons
were taught by Dr. Grief or Mrs. Stellenbosch. There were no other teachers
at the school.

Alex
hadn't yet been taught anything. James dipped in and out of class,
depending on his mood.

"There
will be a discussion this evening in the library," Mrs. Stellenbosch
went on. "The subject is violence in television and film. Tom, you will
open the debate. Afterward, there will be hot chocolate, and Dr. Grief will
give a lecture on the works of Mozart. Everyone is welcome to attend."

James jabbed
a finger into his open mouth and stuck out his tongue. Alex smiled. The other
boys were listening quietly.

"Dr.
Grief would also like to congratulate Cassian James on winning the poetry
competition. His poem is pinned to the bulletin board in the main hall. That is
all."

She turned
and left the room. James rolled his eyes. "Let's go out and get
some fresh air," he said. "I'm feeling sick."

The two of
them went upstairs and put on their coats. James had the room next door to Alex
and had done his best to make it more homey. There were posters of old sci-fi
movies on the wall and a mobile with the solar system dangling above the bed. A
lava lamp bubbled and swirled on the bedside table, casting an orange glow.
There were clothes everywhere. James obviously didn't believe in hanging
them up. Somehow he managed to find a scarf and a single glove. He shoved one
hand into a pocket. "Let's go," he said.

They went
back down and along the corridor, passing the games room. Nicolas and Cassian
were playing table tennis, and Alex stopped at the door to watch them. The ball
was bouncing back and forth, and Alex found himself mesmerized. He stood there
for about sixty seconds, watching. Kerplink, kerplunk, kerplink,
kerplunk-neither of the boys was scoring. There it was again. Different but the
same. Obviously, there were two boys there. But the way they played, the style
of their game, was identical. If it had been one boy knocking a ball against a
mirror, the result would have looked much the same. Alex shivered. James was
standing at his shoulder. The two of them moved away.

Hugo was
sitting in the library. The boy who had been sent to Point Blanc for
shoplifting was reading a Dutch edition of
National
Geographic
magazine. They reached the hall, and there was
Cassian's poem, prominently pinned to the bulletin board. He had been
sent to Point Blanc for smuggling drugs. Now he was writing about daffodils.

Alex pushed
open the main door and felt the cold wind hit his face. He was grateful for it.
He needed to be reminded that there was a real world outside this bizarre
goldfish bowl.

It had begun
to snow again. The two boys walked slowly around the building. A couple of
guards walked toward them, speaking softly in German. Alex had counted thirty
guards at Point Blanc, all of them young German men, dressed in uniform black
roll-neck sweaters and black vests. The guards never spoke to the boys. They
had the pale, unhealthy faces and close-cropped hair he would have expected.
Dr. Grief had said they were there for his protection, but Alex still wondered.
Were they here to keep intruders out, or the boys in?

"This way,"
James said.

James walked
ahead, his feet sinking into the thick snow. Alex followed, looking back at the
windows on the third and fourth floors. It was maddening. A whole half of the
castleperhaps more-was closed off to him, and he still couldn't think of
a way of getting up to it. He couldn't climb. The brickwork was too
smooth and there was no convenient ivy to provide handholds. The drainpipes
looked too fragile to take his weight.

Something
moved. Alex stopped in his tracks.

"What
is it?" James asked.

"There!"
Alex pointed at the third floor. He thought he'd seen a figure, watching
them from behind the window directly above his room. It was there for only a
moment. The face seemed to be masked. A white mask with a narrow slit for the
eyes. But even as he pointed, the figure stepped back, out of sight.

"I
don't see anything," James said.

"It's
gone."

They walked
on, heading for the abandoned ski jump. According to James, the jump had been
built just before Grief had bought the academy. There had been plans to turn
the building into a winter sports training center. The jump had never been
used. They reached the wooden barriers that lay across the entrance and
stopped.

"Let me
ask you something," James said. His breath was misting in the cold air.
"What do you think of this place?"

"Why do
we have to talk out here?" Alex asked. Despite his coat, he was beginning
to shiver.

"Because
when I'm inside the building, I get the feeling that someone is listening
to every word I say."

Alex nodded.
"I know what you mean." He considered the question James had put to
him. "I think you were right the first day we met," he said.
"This place is creepy."

"So how
would you feel about getting out of here?"

"You
know how to fly the helicopter?"

"No.
But I'm going." James paused and looked around. The two guards had
gone into the school. There was nobody else in sight. "I can trust you,
Alex, because you've just gotten here. He hasn't gotten to you
yet." Dr. Grief. James didn't need to say the name. "But
believe me," he went on, "it won't be long. If you stay here,
you're going to end up like the others. Model students. That's
exactly the word for them. It's like they're all made out of
plastic. Well, I've had enough. I'm not going to let him do that to
me."

"Are
you going to run away?" Alex asked.

"Who
needs to run?" James looked down the slope. "I'm going to
ski."

Alex looked
at the slope. It plunged steeply down, stretching on forever. "Is that
possible?" he asked. "I thought--"

"I know
Grief says it's too dangerous. But he would, wouldn't he?
It's true that it's expert black runs all the way down, and
there's bound to be tons of moguls..."

"Won't
the snow have melted?"

"Only
farther down." James pointed. "I've been right down to the
bottom," he said. "I did it the first week I was here. All the
slopes run into a single valley. It's called La Vallee de Fer. You
can't actually make it as far as the town because there's a train
track that cuts across. But if I can get to the track, I reckon I can walk the
rest of the way."

"And
then?"

"A
train back to Dusseldorf. If my dad tries to send me back here, I'll go
to my mom in England. If she doesn't want me, I'll disappear.
I've got friends in Paris and Berlin. I don't care. All I know is,
I've got to split, and if you know what's good for you,
you'll come too."

Alex
considered. He was almost tempted to join the other boy, if only to help him on
his way. But he had a job to do. "I don't have any skis," he
said.

"Nor do
I." James spat into the snow. "Grief took all the skis when the
season ended. He's got them locked up somewhere."

"On the
third floor?"

"Maybe.
But I'll find them. And then I'm out of here." He reached out
to Alex with his ungloved hand. "Come with me."

Alex shook
his head. "I'm sorry, James. You go, and good luck to you. But
I'll stick it out a bit longer. I don't want to break my
neck."

"Okay.
That's your choice. I'll send you a postcard."

The two of
them walked back toward the school. Alex gestured at the window where he had
seen the masked face. "Have you ever wondered what goes on up
there?" be asked.

"No."
James shrugged. "I suppose that's where the guards live."

"Two
whole floors?"

"There's
a basement as well. And Dr. Grief's rooms. Do you think he sleeps with
Miss Stomach-bag?" James made a face. "That's a pretty gross
thought, the two of them together. Darth Vader and King Kong. Well, I'm
going to find my skis and get out of here, Alex. And if you've got any
sense, you'll come too."

Alex and
James were skiing together down the slope, the blades cutting smoothly through
the surface snow. It was a perfect night--everything frozen and still.
They had left the academy behind them. But then Alex saw the figure ahead of
them. Dr. Grief was there. He was standing motionless, wearing his dark suit,
his eyes hidden by his round wire glasses. Alex veered away from him. He had
lost control. He was moving faster and faster down the slope, his poles
flailing at the air, his skis refusing to turn. He could see the ski jump ahead
of him. Someone had removed the barriers. He felt his skis leave the snow and
shoot forward onto solid ice. And then it was a screaming drop down, tearing
ever farther into the night, knowing there was no way back. Dr. Grief laughed,
and at the same moment there was a click and Alex was shot into space, spinning
a mile above the ground and then falling, falling, falling ...

He woke up.

He was lying
in bed, the moonlight spilling onto his covers. He looked at his watch. A
quarter past two. He played back the dream he had just had. Trying to escape
with James. Dr. Grief waiting for them. He had to admit, the academy was
beginning to get to him. He didn't usually have bad dreams. But the
school and the people in it were slipping under his skin, working their way
into his mind.

He thought
about what he had heard. Dr. Grief laughing and something else ... a
clicking sound. That was strange. What had gone click? Had it actually been
part of the dream? Suddenly, Alex was completely awake. He got out of bed, went
to the door, and turned the handle. He was right. He hadn't imagined the
sound. While he was asleep, the door had been locked from the outside.

Something had
to be happening--and Alex was determined to see what it was. He got
dressed as quickly as possible, then knelt down and examined the lock. He could
make out two bolts, at least a half inch in diameter, one at the top and one at
the bottom. They must have been activated automatically. One thing was sure: he
wasn't going to get out through the door.

That left the
window. All the bedroom windows were fastened with a steel rod that allowed
them to open ten inches but no more. Alex picked up his CD player, put in the
Beethoven CD, and turned it on. The CD spun around--moving at a fantastic
speed--then slowly edged forward, still spinning, until it protruded out
of the casing. Alex pressed the edge of the CD against the steel rod. It took
just a few seconds. The CD cut through the steel like scissors through paper.
The rod fell away, allowing the window to swing fully open.

It was still
snowing. Alex turned the CD player off and threw it back on his bed. Then he
put on some sweats and his coat and climbed out the window. He was two floors
up. Normally a fall from that height would have broken an ankle or a leg. But
it had been snowing for the better part of ten hours, and a white bank had
built up against the wall right beneath him. Alex lowered himself as far as he
could, then let go. He fell through the air and hit the snow, disappearing as
far as his waist. He felt his feet strike the hard undersoil, but the bank had
protected him. He was cold and damp before he had even started. But he was
unhurt.

He climbed
out of the snow and began to move around the side of the building, making for
the front. He would just have to hope that the main entrance wasn't
locked too. But somehow he was sure it wouldn't be. His door had been
locked automatically. Presumably a switch had been thrown and all the others
had been locked too. Most of the boys would be asleep. Even the ones who were
awake wouldn't be going anywhere, leaving Dr. Grief free to do whatever
he wanted, coming and going as he pleased.

Alex had just
made it to the side of the building when he heard the guards approach, boots
crunching. There was nowhere to hide, so he threw himself facedown onto the snow,
hugging the shadows. There were two guards. He could hear them talking softly
in German, but he didn't dare look up. If he made any movement, they
would see him. If they came too close, they would probably see him anyway. He
held his breath, his heart pounding.