Ell Rollises, who were large and strong but could not form a thought on their own, were often used as bodyguards. They obeyed orders without hesitation and when they were given a task, nothing deterred them from it. Even if those orders were to destroy the world.
Some Tarens—Kitten's race—could actually walk through walls. Kitten denied having the ability herself and refused to confirm that others like her actually could. She refused to confirm anything. I was glad she'd remained mute. I mean, really. Learning that I (and others) could incapacitate my roommate and friend by pinching the back of her neck had not been fun.
I didn't feel sorry for Kitten, though. We were also learning how to incapacitate humans in case they interfered with our work.
In weapons class, I'd finally gotten to fire a loaded pyre-gun. The beam shot from the barrel smoothly, easily. In fact, I wouldn't have known I'd fired if not for the yellow beam that had lit up the room like a fireworks display. Well, that and the aftereffects. The destruction from that beam was amazing. My target had become a smoldering pile of ash in seconds.
My strength, I had learned, was in my aim. The more I practiced, the better I became. I was very, very good at hitting what I focused on, even from long distances. I could throw shooting stars better than anyone in my class.
Ryan had taught us how to hide and eject razors from our shoes and shirtsleeves. Every day I felt a little more powerful. A little more important. A little more unbeatable. I think I'd wanted to feel that way my entire life, but hadn't, and so had turned to Onadyn to forget my failure. A.I.R. was my new high.
I grinned. What's more, once a week we practiced breaking and entering. So far, we'd learned how to tap phones and bypass a general security system. How cool was that?
“What are you smiling about?” Allison snipped.
I quickly lost my grin. The two of us usually spent our time griping and insulting each other. Today, our last day together, was apparently not going to be different.
“Mind your own business,” I said.
“Mind your own business,” she mocked.
I flipped her off and sat back in the uncomfortable chair I'd been assigned. I stared up at the ceiling, knowing cameras were watching me. I didn't know where they were, though, because the ceiling looked like any other. Blocked and silver. Unassuming.
“This sucks,” I muttered.
“I'd rather eat maggots than be here with you.”
“Maybe I'll talk to your dad about arranging that for you.”
“Talk to him and I'll kill you.” Her fists clenched atop the table that separated us. “One day, we're going to meet on the streets and—”
“Let me guess,” I said, cutting into her speech. “You'll make me sorry I was ever born. Very original.”
She didn't reply, and I forced my mind away from her. God knows I'd rather think about anything but her—even my upcoming math exam. Math. Ugh. I almost groaned.
I'd found out that I had passed all my regular studies tests but math. Therefore, I had to take a math class every night. Trig, of all things. Why hadn't that been deemed obsolete by now? Once I passed that, I'd get to graduate high school. I was excited by that prospect. Me, a graduate!
I'd written my mom about it, but had not heard back. Either she hadn't written or A.I.R. was screening my mail (as promised). I was hoping the latter. My therapy sessions with Angel convinced me more every day that my mom did care about me, she just didn't know how to deal with the thought of losing me like she'd lost my father.
I know I'd thought it before, but one day I really was going to make her proud of me. I was going to apologize for every negative thing I'd ever done to her. I was going to pay her bills and let her retire, relax, and enjoy life. That was my dream, at least. No one had told me how much money A.I.R. agents raked in. But even if I made a pittance, every dime would go to her.
Bad daughter no more. Nope, not me. I was someone to praise.
I mean, I sat through my boring alien politics class every Wednesday and I didn't punch the walls or allow myself to fall asleep—even though I sometimes wanted to sleep more than anything else in the world because I still hadn't adjusted to my new schedule. Now that was discipline!
Really, who cared about the ruling classes of the other-worlders? I didn't.
I'd much rather be in my Thursday alien interrogation class. Now that was a class guaranteed to keep a girl up at night. In it, we learned exactly what to say and do to get the answers we needed. Through unassuming questions at first, we were to discover what the subject wanted or was afraid of and then use that information to our advantage. We were to maintain eye contact. We were to lie. We were also to torture, if necessary, to get what we wanted.
I shuddered at the thought, an action born of dread and anticipation. Keeping this planet safe was as heady as it was scary.
“What are you thinking about now?” Allison demanded.
“Torture,” I answered honestly.
One of her eyebrows quirked up. “Mine?”
I shrugged. “Perhaps.”
“That's not something I'll ever have to worry about. You'll be kicked out of camp sooner or later. You and that Teran friend of yours.”
“She has a name,” I said through clenched teeth.
“Yeah. Alien.”
I gripped my knees to keep from reaching out and slapping her. “She's a better person than you'll ever be.” Kitten and I had grown very close these last two weeks. She was, without a doubt, my best friend here.
She hadn't cared about my drug use. She was smart and witty and always had my back. At school, I'd had friends but they would have ratted me out to save themselves—and often had. I also loved that Kitten was as crazy for Bradley as I was for Ryan. Not that either of us would ever admit to such a thing. Well, not out loud.
Every night I got to hear a replay on the “awful” things Bradley said to Kitten at their last encounter.
“Why don't you find someone else?” I'd finally asked her yesterday.
“Because,” had been her stubborn response. “And who said I wanted him?”
I had rolled my eyes. “If you don't want him, tell him that. Maybe he'll leave you alone and find someone else.”
She'd hissed low in her throat. “He just smells so good, okay. But I don't share, ever, and he's the type who likes to spread it around.”
Unlike us, Cara and Erik had copped to feelings. During the mixers, they were always hiding in a corner, talking, laughing, and touching each other. I sighed, a little jealous.
“What now?” Allison said.
“Why do you want to know?”