“Don’t give people ideas,” Jedao said. Meng didn’t appear to find the joke funny. “This is about people, not explosives.”
Two pairs of cadets had gotten up and were beginning a search of the room. A few were talking to each other in hushed, tense voices. Still others were looking around at their fellows with hard, suspicious eyes.
Meng said in Shparoi, “Do you know where the bomb is?”
Jedao blinked. He hadn’t expected anyone at the Academy to know his birth tongue. Of course, by speaking in an obscure low language, Meng was drawing attention to them. Jedao shook his head.
Meng looked around, hands bunching the fabric of their pants. “What do you recommend we do?”
In the high language, Jedao said, “You can do whatever you want.” He retrieved a deck of jeng-zai cards—he always had one in his pocket—and shuffled them. “Do you play?”
“You realize we’re being graded on this, right? Hell, they’ve got cameras on us. They’re watching the whole thing.”
“Exactly,” Jedao said. “I don’t see any point in panicking.”
“You’re out of your mind,” Meng said. They stood up, met the other cadets’ appraising stares, then sat down again. “Too bad hacking the instructor’s slate won’t get us anywhere. I doubt she left the answer key in an unencrypted file on it.”
Jedao gave Meng a quizzical look, wondering if there was anything more behind the remark—but no, Meng had put their chin in their hands and was brooding. If only you knew, he thought, dealing out a game of solitaire. It was going to be a very dull game, because he had also stacked the deck, but he needed to focus on the people around him, not the game. The cards were just to give his hands something to do. He had considered taking up crochet, but thanks to an incident earlier in the term, crochet hooks, knitting needles, and fountain pens were no longer permitted in class. While this was a stupid restriction, considering that most of the cadets were learning unarmed combat, he wasn’t responsible for the administration’s foibles.
“Jedao,” Meng said, “maybe you’ve got high enough marks that you can blow off this exercise, but—”
Since I’m not blowing it off was unlikely to be believed, Jedao flipped over a card—three of Doors, just as he’d arranged—and smiled at Meng. So Meng had had their pick of partners and had chosen him? Well, he might as well do something to justify the other cadet’s faith in him. After all, despite their earlier remark, weapons weren’t the only things that Jedao was good at. “Do me a favor and we can get this sorted,” he said. “You want to win? I’ll show you winning.”
Now Jedao was attracting some of the hostile stares as well. Good. It took the heat off Meng, who didn’t have great tolerance for pressure. Stay out of wetwork, he thought; but they could have that chat later. Or one of the instructors would.
Meng fidgeted; caught themselves. “Yeah?”
“Get me the slate.”
“You mean the instructor’s slate? You can’t possibly have figured it out already. Unless—” Meng’s eyes narrowed.
“Less thinking, more acting,” Jedao said, and got up to retrieve the slate himself.
A pair of cadets, a girl and a boy, blocked his way. “You know something,” said the girl. “Spill.” Jedao knew them from Analysis; the two were often paired there, too. The girl’s name was Noe Irin. The boy had five names and went by Veller. Jedao wondered if Veller wanted to join a faction so he could trim things down to a nice, compact two-part name. Shuos Veller: much less of a mouthful. Then again, Jedao had a three-part name, also unusual, if less unwieldy, so he shouldn’t criticize.
“Just a hunch,” Jedao said.
Irin bared her teeth. “He always says it’s a hunch,” she said to no one in particular. “I hate that.”
“It was only twice,” Jedao said, which didn’t help his case. He backed away from the instructor’s desk and sat down, careful not to jostle the solitaire spread. “Take the slate apart. The photobomb’s there.”
Irin’s lip curled. “If this is one of your fucking clever tricks, Jay—”
Meng blinked at the nickname. “You two sleeping together, Jedao?” they asked, sotto voce.
Not sotto enough. “No,” said Jedao and Irin at the same time.
Veller ignored the byplay and went straight for the tablet. He bent to inspect the tablet without touching it. Jedao respected that. Veller had the physique of a tiger-wrestler (now there was someone he wouldn’t mind being caught in bed with), a broad face, and a habitually bland, dreamy expression. Jedao wasn’t fooled. Veller was almost as smart as Irin, had already been tracked into bomb disposal, and was less prone to flights of temper.
“Is there a tool closet in here?” Veller said. “I need a screwdriver.”
“You don’t carry your own anymore?” Jedao said.
“I told him he should,” Irin said, “but he said they were too similar to knitting needles. As if anyone in their right mind would knit with a pair of screwdrivers.”
“I think he meant that they’re stabby things that can be driven into people’s eyes,” Jedao said.
“I didn’t ask for your opinion, Jay.”
Jedao put his hands up in a conciliatory gesture and shut up. He liked Irin and didn’t want to antagonize her any more than necessary. The last time they’d been paired together, they’d done quite well. She would come around; she just needed time to work through the implications of what the instructor had said. She was one of those people who preferred to think about things without being interrupted.
One of the other cadets wordlessly handed Veller a set of screwdrivers. Veller mumbled his thanks and got to work. The class watched, breathless.
“There,” Veller said at last. “See that there, all hooked in? Don’t know what the timer is, but there it is.”
“I find it very suspicious that you gave up your chance to show up everyone else in this exercise,” Irin said to Jedao. “Is there anyone else who knew?”
“Irin,” Jedao said, “I don’t think the instructor told anyone where she’d left the photobomb. She just stuck it in the slate because that was the last place we’d look. The test was meant to reveal which of us would backstab each other, but honestly, that’s so counterproductive. I say we disarm the damn thing and skip to the end.”
Irin’s eyes crossed and her lips moved as she recited the instructor’s words under her breath. That was another thing Jedao liked about her. Irin had a great memory. Admittedly, that made it difficult to cheat her at cards, as he’d found out the hard way. He’d spent three hours doing her kitchen duties for her the one time he’d tried. He liked people who could beat him at cards. “It’s possible,” she said grudgingly after she’d reviewed the assignment’s instructions.
“Disarmed,” Veller said shortly after that. He pulled out the photobomb and left it on the desk, then set about reassembling the slate.
Jedao glanced over at Meng. For a moment, his partner’s expression had no anxiety in it, but a raptor’s intent focus. Interesting: what were they watching for?
“I hope I get a nice quiet posting at a desk somewhere,” Meng said.
“Then why’d you join up?” Irin said.
Jedao put his hand over Meng’s, even though he was sure that they had just lied. “Don’t mind her,” he said. “You’ll do fine.”