Sterling Squadron by Eric Nylund Page B

breathe.
    He got his bearings. His friends were okay … well, at least standing.
    The other side? Only four other kids were up. Two he didn’t know, the girl who’d saved him, and the kid with dark skin who’d challenged Ethan earlier in tactics class.
    “That’s enough!” One teacher came over to Ethan. “There are no teams. That’s a violation of Sterling rules.”
    Rules? Rules at Sterling was like giving a person stranded on a desert island an Arctic survival parka.
    Paul stepped in front of Ethan before he could protest. His cap was pulled low, and he looked away as he spoke to the teacher. “Sorry about that, Coach. It just kind of happened.”
    The teacher examined the carnage around them, nodding in approval as kids limped off the field. “Nice work, but I want you all to report for evaluation.”
    Evaluation? Ethan wasn’t sure what that was, but he didn’t like the sound of it.
Anything
that got them more noticed by the teachers and those guards in athletic suits was bad news.
    “Evaluation,” the teacher continued, “for
disciplinary action
.”

  17  
DO I KNOW YOU?
    THEY WERE DOOMED. THERE WAS NO WAY TO get out of this.
    If it’d just been the one teacher from the field walking them to this “evaluation,” then they could have made a break for it. Ethan and his companions, though, had picked up an escort of two athletic-suited guards as well.
    Ethan knew the specs on the athletic suits he’d used in soccer. They ran as fast as a car and could lift two tons with one arm—not to mention, these Sterling models had shoulder-mounted cannons and electrified lances.
    He imagined trying to make a break for it—him and his friends scattering. Maybe
one
of them could get away.
    Could one or two of them reach their I.C.E. suits in time to save the others?
    He wasn’t sure.
    He didn’t try it. Not yet.
    The teacher marched them into the school, through the front office where teachers filled out forms or made phone calls, and then they stopped at a door marked PRINCIPAL KENDELL .
    The P.E. teacher knocked. There was a muffled voice from the other side, and then the teacher pushed open the door for them.
    Paul looked like he was going to throw up, and cast around looking for a way out. There was none.
    They shuffled inside.
    Principal Kendell sat at her desk typing on her computer and shuffling through a pile of paperwork. She reminded Ethan of his mom, with her golden skin, intelligent eyes, and an easy smile. She wore a navy blue jacket with a silver
S
on the vest pocket.
    The one window in her office had curtains drawn back and blinds up to let the sunlight spill inside. Diplomas and awards hung on the walls.
    This was part of the huge lie.
    This principal had never gotten any awards. She didn’t have to fill out paperwork when she had a direct mental link with the Ch’zar mind-controlled Collective.
    It made Ethan angry, because he’d lived the same lie in Santa Blanca for most of his life. But he kept that anger in check because of another emotion flooding through him: fear.
    The Ch’zar were about to discover him and his friends.
    The principal looked up from her computer.
    The P.E. teacher handed her a clipboard. “Rule violators, Madam Principal,” he said.
    She glanced at the clipboard. “That will be all, Coach,” she told him. “I’ll see to their evaluation.”
    The coach grunted, left, and shut the door behind him.
    Ethan tilted his head and looked at the floor. Fear thundered through his brain and made it near impossible to think.
    This wasn’t the first time he’d been called in for disciplinary action. He’d been in Coach Norman’s office back at Northside Elementary for a Ch’zar interrogation. He’d been chewed out by Colonel Winter, not once, but
twice
, in her office.
    But this time was very different.
    One good look at any of their faces and the principalwould recognize them, or at least recognize they weren’t supposed to be at Sterling.
    They’d be captured