Keelic and the Space Pirates

  Chapter 4

  What do you say, little Dreep?

  The next morning, scattered gray clouds ran southward in a fitful wind. It tugged and buffeted Keelic as he waited for the bus, each shove of air puffing up his anger at being forced to return. He’d looked at the school roster. Leesol didn’t attend his school. He saw no reason to go back, but his parents didn’t care. It was such a stupid place. He almost told his parents about the rifle just to create a distraction, and maybe get them to take him seriously. But they would take it away, and he would have nothing again.

  The bus loomed and he stepped back as it came down. Not looking at the pilot, Keelic sat in an empty seat near the front. The seat buckled him in and the bus soared away.

  Mr. Drin droned on about the benefits of good business. Keelic disliked being at the front because he wasn’t able to draw. Most everyone typed notes on their desks, though a few used desk pens to hand write. Keelic could type, but had over the years developed a credible ability to fake note-taking by drawing across the desk in sections.

  He was luckier in Expansion History, for his desk was in the back corner, and he planned to make good use of it today. The instructor was displaying something on the front wall about the first tries at humano-alien agriculture on Hell’s Outpost. Keelic called up his tablet’s drawing program, and began sketching the top of a defense satellite.

  The end-class chime rang and he dumped the drawing to his tablet, but not before the girl next to him saw it. He glanced at her desk, and saw it was full of fancy cursive notes. With a disdainful flourish, she pulled her tablet out and walked away.

  Galactin was taught by a fat little man who barked the words they were to repeat, barking again and again until he thought they did it right, though Keelic never could hear any difference except in volume.

  After class he charged onto the field at recess, ears still ringing. The two boys who had been team captains the day before picked roughly the same teams, except that he was chosen in the middle of the picking, and by the other team.

  The strength gained on the transport gave him an advantage, and he ended up winning. No one cheered except the boy Keelic had fought for the ball the day before. Everyone regrouped, and the team captains began choosing new teams. On Pesfor 3, if you won, you were the next team leader. Crestfallen, Keelic gave the ball to the captain of his new team, and they started over. The end-class chime rang after only a few throws. The boy who had cheered walked off the field with Keelic, told him that he had played a wild game, and that his name was Jasinal. Keelic was wary, wondering why Jasinal was so friendly. On Pesfor 3, if someone attacked you, they were the enemy, not your friend.

  In the hall, a boy shoved both Keelic and Jasinal, saying, "Out of the way, Annboys!"

  Jasinal took the shove without comment, but in a flash of anger Keelic lashed out with a foot and tripped the boy. The kid landed hard, swore savagely, and scrambled to get up. Keelic dropped his tablet and prepared to fight, but the kid glared and cursed, and backed away. Jasinal had vanished. Keelic picked up his tablet and headed out to the Study Hall for his Accelerated Mathematics class. He walked slowly to let the after-fight trembling fade.

  Mr. Hallod had the wall screen in pieces all over the room. Greeting Keelic with a smile, he motioned for him to sit.

  "A large work surface is essential. You must be able to see the entire problem at once, from as many perspectives as you wish, in order to find your solution. Show me what you did last night."

  Keelic called up his homework problems and wondered why Leesol had blonde hair while Mr. Hallod’s was brown. Their eyes were the same.

  "Concentration, Keelic. Don’t wander."

  They worked for a few minutes, but Keelic kept fumbling. He could not stop thinking that this was Leesol’s father.

  "Your mind has taken a sabbatical today, Keelic."

  Embarrassed and irritated, Keelic said, "What’s that?"

  "It comes from the Greek sabbatikos, literally, the seventh day of an old-Earth week, a day of rest in some of the old religions. It also means to take a break to study, as instructors at higher levels do. It has fallen out of use since the religions have evolved, and universities began allowing regular time for instructors to keep up to date on current advances instead of only every few years."

  "Oh," said Keelic.

  "Why don’t you help me with this screen?"

  Keelic looked at the half-graded homework, then at Mr. Hallod, feeling as though he had been asked to do something wicked. But by an instructor?

  Seeing Keelic’s expression, Mr. Hallod said, "I don’t believe learning occurs when your heart is not in it, or when something completely distracts you."

  Later, walking back, Keelic stopped midway. Staring at the schoolhouse, his happiness drained away, and he wished he could spend more time with Mr. Hallod. An antique hover shuttle lifted silently from behind the Study Hall and headed northeast. After watching the craft disappear into a cloud, Keelic returned to the school with slow steps.

  As he walked down the hall toward Astronomy, Jasinal rushed up to him.

  "Blaine’s in the restroom!"

  Shrugging, Keelic didn’t bother trying to figure out this cryptic statement.

  "He wants to fight you."

  Keelic looked at Jasinal. "Who?"

  Jasinal’s eyes glittered. "Ert’s brother. The one you tripped? He’s waiting."

  Other kids were watching. If he backed away from this, he would never recover. He clenched his jaw and turned toward the restroom. The kids made a path, and he walked in. Perhaps he could talk to the boy, and not have to do this.

  Blaine was pure spice farmer, nails stained dark by the black Ermolian soil, eyes dull and bitter. He saw Keelic and stepped forward, chin raised. "You tried to space my brother, little Dreep."

  Keelic glanced at the ceiling. Wasn’t there surveillance in here, audio at least?

  Blaine said louder, "What do you say, little Dreep?"

  Say to what? Keelic wondered. Blaine was big, but no older than Keelic. Excited boys crowded into the restroom, careful to leave enough space for the fight, filling corners and standing on toilets to look over the partitions.

  There was no way out. Keelic handed his tablet to Jasinal and raised his fists. Some of the boys laughed, but Keelic stood his ground, waiting for Blaine to come to him.

  Blaine’s face shifted, and Keelic saw that the boy was afraid. Keelic knew then that he could take him, and stepped forward. They circled each other, not for advantage, but because neither wanted to begin.

  A spectator lamented, "Blaine’s afraid of the Annboy."

  Blaine’s face went shamed red, then rageful, and he attacked. Keelic’s confidence vanished. He skittered away and hit a wall with his back. Blaine closed the range, and Keelic’s courage returned through desperation. He leaned in and started swinging. In the flurry of fists, most of their blows missed, but Keelic sensed right away that he was landing more. He pushed his advantage, forcing Blaine back. Blaine bent over, covering his head, and backed away.

  The other boys moaned and shook their heads, and one who had been holding Blaine’s tablet tossed it into a urinal.

  Panting, Keelic took his own tablet from Jasinal and walked out, whispers preceding him.

  In Astronomy, Keelic’s hands shook. He couldn’t concentrate. His face felt strange and puffy where blows had landed, but didn’t hurt too much. He didn’t seem to be bleeding. Blaine, it turned out, was in the same class. He came in late, and cried the whole time, his head hidden in his arms. Keelic was tense for a few minutes, but it looked as though no one had told the instructors about the battle, nor did Ms. Onkalwitz seem to care why Blaine was crying. Blaine’s sobs touched Keelic, and yet he hated the boy at the same time. Victory was a nugget of good feeling that was quickly fading. The other students watched Keelic, but didn’t seem to know quite what to make of him. He felt equally confused. And alone.

  On the bus, no one sat next to Keelic. That was fine w
ith him. He didn’t want to be near any of them, and couldn’t wait to get home. The boy who had threatened him for the window seat the previous day got on last. Lift fans whined, and since there were no other seats, the boy sat down next to Keelic. Hands curled to fists, Keelic watched him out of the corner of his eye.

  The boy glanced at Keelic and said, "Blaine’s such a polepucker. Fights like a girl."

  Keelic grunted in response, not trusting the kid at all.

  Mother and Father were waiting for him again at the hover pad, but he greeted them with the minimum courtesy necessary. Once inside, he ate his snack in silence as his parents drifted off to their work. He didn’t mention the fight to them. They wouldn’t care, and would just lecture him. Anyway, they kept sending him back. This fight wouldn’t change anything. He stomped up to his room.

  Anny greeted him with some Rimsky-Korsakov music. Keelic paused to listen, thought of the rifle, and found his mood improving. He got out his environmental suit, belt, and pack, and fiddled with them until the music ended. He had Anny put on some Triztbagian battle music, got out his starship models, opened a window, and had a gigantic war above the house until dinner.

  Next day Keelic dropped his tablet after plugging in at the school entry. Before he could pick it up, the boy from the bus grabbed it. Keelic prepared to fight, but the kid merely stood and handed it to him. Keelic marveled.

  At recess he wrestled to the ground a boy who had picked on Jasinal and stole his ball. Jasinal sat with Keelic for lunch, but each time Keelic started talking about something like battle tactics or expansion wars or the Pathfinder explorers, Jasinal got snide and changed the subject to sports or told crude jokes, mostly involving girls.

  Girls at the school ignored Keelic, even when he tried to smile or be nice to them. The pretty ones seemed only to care about a few of the most popular boys, always giggling and watching them. The rest seemed folded in on themselves, trying to be as small and unnoticed as possible. Keelic saw that this didn’t work if they got in the way of the wrong kids. When those same kids tried to bully Keelic, he attacked.