a KI insignia over the left breast pocket. Marco seemed to have a different secret handshake for each of them. Like he’d known them his whole life.
Strange voices called out to me: “Hey, Jack, how are you feeling?”… “Book club meets on Tuesdays!”… “yoga”… “spinning class”… “surfing club”…
Before we went into the dining hall, Marco stopped short. “Yo, P. Beg, I want to show Jack the media room.”
“It’s Professor Bhegad,” the old man said. “And I don’t think we have the time. The chef has prepared—”
“One minute, that’s all,” Marco insisted.
As Bhegad continued to protest, Marco pulled a plastic card from the protective pouch that hung from a big key ring on the professor’s belt. He quickly ran to a Colonial-style brick building, threw open the door, and announced, “Welcome to utter coolness.”
Although the building looked old, the inside was amazing—long and rectangular, with a lofted area and a glass ceiling high above. Everywhere I looked there were consoles and monitors, game devices and arcade machines. The beeps and sound effects made it seem like some strange forest full of squeaking electronic rodents.
“Nerd Heaven,” Cass continued. “Including board games and jigsaw puzzles.”
“We’re getting a foosball table on Friday,” Aly said with relish. “And we’re having a Preston Sturges festival. Hail the Conquering Hero Saturday night.”
We? I could never, ever think of myself and the Karai Institute as we.
“Dinnertime!” Bhegad said, heading back to the door. “Oh dear, where did that access card go?”
“I gave it back to you, P. Beg,” Marco said.
Now Bhegad was looking around the floor in frustration. “Achh. I’ve had this problem ever since I turned sixty. Honestly, I just lose everything! Ah, well, it will turn up. We mustn’t be late. We have a surprise for you, Jack. Come.”
As Professor Bhegad headed for the door, Cass and Aly followed. I turned to go with them.
Behind me, I felt Marco slipping something flat and rectangular into my pocket.
SECRET MESSAGE
MARCO HADN’T SAID a word. Hadn’t even looked at me.
What was I doing with the card key? I didn’t want it. I didn’t want to be caught with it. Was this Marco’s plan—to get me in trouble? Why?
I tried to look at him, to get some sort of indication. He was sitting across a crowded table from me, stuffing food into his mouth and carrying on a conversation with some young female staff member whose name tag said Ginger.
The banquet table was enormous, running the length of a vast octagonal room. Chairs were packed close together, and it seemed like the entire Karai Institute was here—fat old men with ZZ Top beards, hipsters in narrow glasses, all kinds of people. Many sported intertwining-snake KI tattoos on their arms. They all seemed to know each other well, their laughter and conversation hovering like a cloud of sound.
The place was called the Comestibule. Professor Bhegad said it meant “cafeteria,” and he didn’t answer me when I asked why they didn’t call it a cafeteria. Its walls, paneled with blond wood, rose dizzyingly upward to a kind of steeple. All around us were portraits of stern-faced scientists, who seemed to be staring at me like I owed them money.
A great chandelier, made of curled glass tubes that resembled Medusa’s head of snakes, flooded the room with LED light. Across the rafters hung a banner that stretched nearly the length of the room:
WELCOME TO YOUR KARAI INSTITUTE HOME, JACK!
Professor Bhegad had made a big deal about the chef preparing quail for dinner. The thought of it made me sick.
Cass leaned over to me and mumbled a long stream of words that made absolutely no sense. “Dude, stop it,” I said. “I can’t do that backward-speaking thing.”
As Cass stared at me, looking annoyed, Marco’s voice boomed out toward a passing waitress. “Excuse me, you got any more food? There isn’t much meat on these things.”
“If you eat one more quail, sir, you’ll fly away,” the girl answered.
“Take mine,” I said.
Marco reached across and vacuumed my plate away.
I kept expecting people to ask me about my Big Talent, but no one did. Fortunately, they all seemed pretty normal. Friendly.
A clinking sound rang out, and Professor Bhegad was on his feet. “Ladies and gentlemen and Scholars of Karai! Our Comestibule is a place of great joy today. We have saved a young life and we continue our adventure with renewed strength and hope. Tonight and over the next few weeks you will all have a chance to meet our newest young genius, Jack McKinley!”
“Speech! Speech!” Marco yelled through the applause.
My heart was ping-ponging. I still couldn’t get used to this. Weeks? Here?
I felt an elbow in my side. “Hey, wake up, dude,” Aly muttered. “You’re getting a standing O.”
All around the table, people were rising to their feet and applauding. Staring directly at me. All except Cass, who was doodling on a napkin.
“Stand up!” Aly said.
My chair was heavy and hard to push back. I felt like a dorkus maximus. I waved awkwardly and sat again.
“That was inspiring,” Marco said, his mouth full of quail.
As I sat, I noticed a paper napkin and a pen lying on my chair. “Is this yours?” I asked Cass.
His eyes widened. He glanced up at the Medusa chandelier. I looked into the crazy swirl of glass tendrils, but I couldn’t tell what he was acting so weird about.
Not weird. Scared, maybe. His face was tense and his fingers had the tremors.
I flipped the napkin over and saw a scribbled note. A bunch of numbers.
“The banner is cool!” Cass blurted out. “‘Welcome to your Karai Institute home, Jack!’ Man, I never had something this fancy. I’d remember those words forever. Wow. ‘Welcome to your Karai Institute home, Jack!’”
He was trying to tell me something. I glanced at the note and figured I needed to read it in private. “I—I think I’ll wash my hands,” I said, pushing my chair back.
The men’s room was outside the dining room, across a small hallway with a view of the kitchen. I bolted inside, ran into an open stall, and latched
