STRATEGIC BEHAVIOR (REVISING)

CHAPTER 11: HEAVEN & HELL

The director's office floated above the Vision Academy entrance hall framed by walls of glass. Norma's laser scanned for bugs. "Cameras. No audio recording devices," she stated. Anyone below could see in, which Skylar suspected was the primary reason the chaperones had allowed them to whisk away their student. Downstairs, everyone else was enjoying ice cream and a movie night.

The lone teenager slouched in a modular chair. His skinny legs draped the side, and he laced his fingers behind his head. His bored, squarish face hid behind a mess of loose curls, a cocky grin slanting his mouth.

"Hiram, is it?" Magnum tugged his breeches to crouch beside the boy.

"Nice interrogation chamber. Is this the part where you rough me up?" the kid asked.

From the door, Skylar gestured at the room. The floors were made of tinted hexagons, every other one illuminated. Following the honeycomb motif, the interior walls were also large teal hexagons and glass. It was designed for aesthetics, not intimidation.

"No torture devices. No chains. I take it you're not a gamer. Otherwise, you'd know a safe space when you see one." She smiled and approached the kid, although perspiration collected in her hairline.

Hiram snorted in disbelief.

"I think he can handle the truth," said Dr. Lacasse.

Norma studied the man from the wall overlooking the darkened city. "And who are you?"

"He's a genetic architect, specifically the one who designed my DNA," Skylar murmured. "I invited him here to talk to you about... our concerns."

"Right." She nodded tiredly. "As if we don't have enough already."

"Indeed. I'm Dr. Cristobal Lacasse," he introduced as he shuffled to a sofa.

Norma reconsidered him with grudging respect. She peered at Skylar with different eyes, too. So, she had heard of the geneticist. And, apparently, learning her best friend originated from the hands of a master made her view Skylar in a better light. Sky wasn't sure if she should feel complimented or insulted.

The doctor's semi-mirthful ease was gone, she noticed. His gaze slid from person to person, as if gauging their ability to handle the situation. "Our top concern at the moment should be keeping this academy from harm, and I have found—in my considerable lifetime—honesty suffices when imagination lags. The boy needs to hear the truth."

"Okay, look. I read your file, Hiram Galinsky." Norma turned to the kid. "You're a political science enthusiast with a head for conspiracy theories. We're here to set the record straight."

"Do your worst. Propagandize me. Spout the bullshit script. I promise I'll nod in all the right places, but you won't convince me this isn't a front for something. I have the video proof." Hiram chuckled dryly.

"And what do you think will happen if that footage gets out?" Magnum asked.

"I don't know. Let's see." He jumped to his feet, knocking over a potted plant in his haste. The four adults froze, but so did the teen. His heavy-lidded eyes darted from his AppCenter to them. He licked his lips as he flexed his fingers, chest heaving.

The AI took a cautious step toward him. "You want the truth? I'm afraid stirring a panic with questions we can't answer will lead to people responding in irrational ways. Kind of like you right now."

"Stay the fuck back, or I'll air-drop this to everyone within range! You can answer whatever you choose to answer. You guys are in charge of this freakshow," Hiram retorted.

"Are we?" Norma crossed her arms and leaned against the glass wall. With the cityscape behind her, she appeared tiny, like she couldn't possibly run something of its magnitude.