A World of Trouble (30 page)

“To the most promising Troublemakers we've ever had the privilege of training!” Annika declares. “Thank you for making our jobs so enjoyable.”

The faculty bursts into a chorus of “Hear, hear!”

“You must be starving,” Annika says once they've sipped and quieted down. “Please help yourselves.”

Abe and Gabby rush to the table. Lemon saunters after them, Elinor trails him, and I follow her. I'm so busy processing everything I can't tell if I'm hungry, but I take a plate and fill it with fish sticks anyway.

“Nice work, Hinkle.” Houdini claps me on the back.

“Thanks.” I force a smile.

Other teachers offer congratulations. Some let Capital T and Elinor get food, then form a loose circle around them and start firing questions. Abe and Gabby seem more than happy to do most of the answering. Fern, the gym teacher, gently pulls Elinor to the side and asks how she is, if there's anything she needs. Before I can hear Elinor's response, there's a tap on my shoulder.

I turn around. “Ike. Hi.” When I smile this time, I mean it.

“Hey. Can I talk to you for a second?”

We go to a corner of the room.

“First,” he says quietly, “wow. I don't even know what else to say about what you just did. I'm beyond impressed—and I want to hear all about it at our next session.”

“You got it. And thanks for agreeing to help. I wouldn't have felt okay going if you didn't have our backs.”

“No problem.” He takes out his K-Pak. “And speaking of help . . . Know how you said to watch the faculty? And let you know if anything seemed strange?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mystery use one hand to swipe glitter across the table and into the palm of his other hand. He dumps the sparkles into his coat pocket, then swipes some more.

“Yes,” I say.

“Well, you left at night and weren't gone that long, so most of our teachers slept the whole time. Nothing strange there. But I got hungry while keeping tabs, so I stopped by the Kanteen for a late-night snack. And who was there loading up on candy at the ice cream bar?”

“Mr. Tempest?”

“The one and only. I wouldn't have thought anything of it except he wasn't making a sundae. He wasn't even filling his pockets with sweet treats for later, the way some kids do. He was filling bags—big ones. Like a backpack. A duffel bag. A suitcase on wheels.”

“That's a lot of candy.”

“That's what I thought. Which is why I followed him. Here.”

He holds out his K-Pak so I can see the screen. There's a photo. Of a pink house. With purple shutters. White window boxes filled with yellow flowers. A white bench swing filled with dolls and stuffed animals. And lining the roof, eaves, door, and chimney—candy. Gumdrops. Licorice. Peppermints. Lollipops. In every color of the rainbow.

“Did Hansel and Gretel answer when you rang the bell?” I ask.

“I didn't want to get that close. Because the house—which is more like a cottage—is in the middle of nowhere. In the woods.”

And then I see it. Thanks to the colorful additions and some new construction, they look nothing alike. . . . But the house in the picture is the same one I followed Mystery to. The one where I was almost axed to death.

“Weird, right?” Ike asks.

“Very.”

Before I can add anything else, I catch something Abe says to some of our teachers.

“But this place? IncrimiNation? Oh, man. Talk about insane. For example—”

He's cut off by a sharp clanking.

“One more thing!” Annika declares, tapping her glass with a fork to get everyone's attention. “After everything they just accomplished, we can't let our Troublemakers return to their house empty-handed. They'll each receive more demerits than any student ever has for a single task . . .
and
one of these!”

The wall screen that displayed a map of the United States the last time I was here illuminates behind her. A picture of a super-sleek silver golf cart appears.

“That's the Kilter Kart 5000,” Abe says, eyes wide.

“Indeed it is,” Annika says. “Would you like a closer look?”

He nods. So do Gabby and Lemon.

“Great. They're in the driveway. GS George will take you.”

“Now?” Gabby asks.

“Now,” Annika says.

They drop their plates and bolt toward the door. Our teachers, including Mystery, follow. Ike does too. I start after them but am stopped by another tap on the shoulder.

“I'd love a moment,” Annika says. “If you don't mind.”

Besides us, Elinor's the only other person in the room. She's standing by the door. Our eyes meet. As if wanting to prevent some secret silent communication, Annika steps between us.

“Elinor, please ask Fern to take you to the administration building for paperwork. I'll meet you there in a bit.”

Elinor looks at me. I nod. She leaves.

Annika closes the door and faces me. The smile she's worn since our arrival disappears.

“Seamus, Seamus, Seamus.”

Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts.

“You've put me in an interesting position.”

Normally, I'd automatically apologize. But for perhaps the first time ever, I'm not sorry for doing something that displeased an adult.

“Do you know why?” Annika asks.

“Because I stole a helicopter? And convinced GS George to fly across the country? And everything else you just mentioned?”

“Not quite. I called those achievements, and most of them were.”

“Which ones weren't?”

“Not ones. One.” She pulls out a clear high-backed chair at one end of the table. Sits. “You kidnapped Elinor.”

“Not kidnapped. Rescued.”

“Why split hairs? The important thing is that she was sent away. By me. And you brought her back. Without asking permission or even why she was shipped off in the first place. You're an extraordinary Troublemaker, Seamus. . . . But you don't know everything. Not by a long shot. And you'd be wise not to act like you do.”

“Maybe I'd know more if I hacked into other people's K-Mail accounts.”

Then, realizing my autopilot just kicked in yet again, I clamp one hand over my mouth. Annika stares at me.

“How do you know about that?” she asks quietly.

Keeping my hand over my mouth, I shake my head.

She narrows her eyes. Studies me for several seconds. Points to the high-backed chair at the opposite end of the table. I cross the room and sit down.

“You don't trust me.”

I release my mouth. “It's not that I—”

“It wasn't a question. I see it in your eyes.” She sits back, clasps her hands in her lap. “What do you say we clear the air?”

I pause. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you're uncertain—probably of Kilter, definitely of me. So ask me anything you want. Right now. No extra assignments required.”

This sounds like a trick. But at this point, what do I have to lose?

I sit back, clasp my hands in my lap. “Why did you hack my K-Mail? And Elinor's?”

“By leaps and bounds you're the most promising student I've ever seen. As director, it's my responsibility to make sure you stay focused and on the right path. So you can reach your maximum potential. In order to do that, I need to know about potential distractions. Since Elinor's chief among those, I need to stay on top of her, too.”

“Is that why you sent her away? Because you thought she was distracting me?”

“Partially.”

“Why else?”

“She failed assignments, refused to try, and rarely engaged in any part of the Kilter curriculum. I would've expunged any other student who behaved the same way much sooner. Also, her mother runs IncrimiNation, which, as you learned, is the devil's satellite den. I thought spending time there would help her better appreciate her time here.”

“Why'd she come to Kilter in the first place?”

“Because her mother didn't want her.” She lets this sink in. Which it does. Like a boulder to my stomach. “Despite what you may think, my heart's not completely made of stone. I took pity on her and brought her here.”

One thought and one image come to mind. The thought is that Annika's cool tone doesn't match her supposedly warm heart. The image is of Elinor alone on Parents' Day last semester.

“Then why are you so mean to her?” I ask.

Annika blinks. “Mean?”

“You hardly talked to her last semester. When you did, you yelled. And then when she was hurt during the Ultimate Troublemaking Task, you didn't even seem to care.”

“If someone doesn't appreciate my generosity enough to do the minimum that's expected in return, I'm not about to bend over backwards until she does.” Annika shrugs. “As for her injury, I'd seen worse. And no one—not you, me, Elinor, or anyone else—can learn how to deal with pain until they've experienced it firsthand. In that respect, I did her a favor.”

I don't know what to say to that. So I shift gears instead.

“What does IncrimiNation do?” I know what I saw, but I want to hear what she says.

“According to my sister, it creates Troublemakers. According to me, it creates juvenile delinquents with atrocious personal hygiene.”

“Why don't you and Nadia work together?”

“Clearly, we have very different educational philosophies. Plus, we don't get along. We never have.”

The questions dip and swirl through my head like lightning bugs in a jar. With so many to choose from, it's hard to ask them in an orderly fashion. What matters, though, is that they're asked at all. So I try not to think too hard, and just keep going.

“Did you ask me to follow Mr. Tempest to keep me busy? And distract me from other distractions?”

“No. I really wanted help monitoring him. Though distraction from distraction was a nice bonus.”

“How come my real-world combat mission was so different from Lemon's, Abe's, and Gabby's?”

“Because your alliance-mates are good on their own, but they're only great when working with you. I though you could handle more faster. And I was right.”

“What I did then, helping that little girl who was locked up by her mom—is that what we're training for? To be able to make trouble that will help other kids with mean parents?”

Annika reaches for a champagne flute, takes a long sip, and smacks her lips. “Yes.”

“Is that why you want to expand the program? To train more Troublemakers who can help more kids?”

She takes another sip. “Yes.”

“And you think because I'm so talented, or whatever, that I can eventually be extra helpful?”

“I don't think. I know. With one thousand percent certainty.”

I consider this. It doesn't sound too bad. In fact, after what happened with my mom, it's almost admirable.

Which reminds me.

“How does someone outside of Kilter get Kilter weapons?”

“They don't.”

“Yes, they do. My mom did.”

Her head tilts. The glass starts to slip from her grasp. She catches it and puts it on the table. “Pardon?”

“When I was home. Over Christmas. My mom gave me tons of weapons—like the Icickler, Knight-Vision Goggles, and Kringle Stars—and had tons more hidden in the attic.”

I wouldn't believe it if I didn't see it, but the blood actually leaves Annika's face. Her skin turns as white as snow.

“Seamus, I assure you I have no idea how your mother acquired those weapons. And I
will
get to the bottom of it.”

Huh. This sounds like potential bad news for Mom. And for some reason, that makes me wish I'd picked a different lightning bug.

“Now may I ask you a few questions?”

If it means changing the subject. “Sure.”

Annika sits up. Rests her elbows on the table. Leans toward me. “Do you want to be here?”

“At Kilter?”

She nods.

“Yes.” Autopilot.

“What kind of insurance do you need?” I must look confused because she adds, “More fish sticks? Your own house? Kommissary loan privileges?”

Ah. She wants to know what she can bribe me with that will keep me from changing my mind and jumping ship. I've never given it thought, but several things come to mind immediately.

“I want GS George to keep his job.”

“Done.”

“And Elinor to be allowed to stay and be treated fairly.”

“Fine.”

“And Ike to have any troublemaking position he wants when he graduates.”

“Okay.”

“And Ms. Marla to have an unlimited supply of free pet food for Rodolfo.”

“Strange, but doable.”

“And you to give up access to every K-Mail account but your own.”

She hesitates, then takes her K-Pak from the table and starts
typing. “As long as we keep one another in the loop, I shouldn't need access to anyone else's K-Mail. So, sure. And done.” She puts down her K-Pak. “Anything else?”

Yes. I need her not to change her mind and throw me out once she learns I'm not who she thinks I am.

The autopilot keeps this last one quiet. Before I can decide whether to force it, Annika says, “Well, I need insurance too. Not much, but some.”

“Like what?”

“The faculty and staff don't know about IncrimiNation. Just like I want you to stay focused, I want the same for them. They're excellent teachers, and we can't afford to lose them should curiosity encourage the pursuit of other opportunities. Can you keep what you just witnessed to yourself ? And make sure your friends do the same?”

I can't imagine Houdini, Fern, Samara, or any of my other teachers willingly signing up for a career in such chaos, but I agree anyway. Besides, right now I don't really want to talk about what I just witnessed.

“Fantastic.” Annika smiles. Holds out one hand. “Do we have a deal?”