Maiken was Greek. Nosy and talkative. Fast as hell.
“I’m not sure how much I can tell you,” Kopano replied, swallowing. Taylor could see that a part of him was enjoying the attention. “It’s sort of top secret.”
“Is no one going to mention how Taylor just hauled Miki out of here like she’s some kind of cop?” That came from Danny, a Canadian tweeb, whose lunch Taylor had ruined when she flung aside Miki’s table.
“She looked pissed,” said Greta Schmidt, a German Garde whose Legacy allowed her to see in all different spectrums of light.
“She always looks pissed,” Danny replied.
“I don’t know,” Anika Jindal spoke up, setting down the plastic cutlery she was using on her lunch. “Taylor’s always been really nice about healing me. If she’s mad at Miki, she probably has a good reason.”
Anika was new at the Academy, newer even than Taylor. She was from Delhi and her Legacy was magnetism. She didn’t have good control yet and so was frequently pulling sharp metal objects towards herself. Taylor had fixed her up multiple times.
“Forget about Taylor and Miki,” boomed Nicolas Lambert, the Belgian with superstrength, as he loomed over Kopano. “I want to know what these secret missions you guys keep going on are all about.”
“The first time wasn’t a secret mission,” Kopano replied innocently. “We just got in trouble sneaking off campus.”
“Merde, Nic, let the guy eat,” said Simon. He was seated across from the Moroccan fire-breather Omar Azoulay, the two of them engaged in a game of chess. Omar was more focused on his next move than all the conversations around him.
“It doesn’t bother you that they don’t tell us anything?” Nic asked Simon.
“Not really,” Simon replied.
“It bothers me,” Maiken put in.
“Like, we go here too,” Nic continued, glaring at Kopano, who kept on cheerfully eating. “We deserve to know what’s going on.”
“Checkmate, you French fool,” Omar said.
“It’s not even your turn,” Simon replied distractedly. He reached across the table and grabbed Omar’s bracelet. “Did you forget how to play? Let me recharge this.”
“I wish I could tell you guys more,” Kopano said. “I’m—”
“You could tell us more,” Nic butted in. “You just don’t want to. You guys are a clique. Trying to keep all the action to yourselves.”
“How long have you been at the Academy, Nic?” The question came from the girl with the spiky turquoise-dyed hair who Taylor hadn’t seen before.
“I’ve been here since the beginning, ‘Nemo,’” Nic replied with air quotes. “What does that matter?”
“So you’ve been safe in here for almost two years. You don’t know how crazy life’s gotten out in the real world,” Nemo replied. “Whatever Kopano and the others were doing, I’m sure they were helping people like us.”
“They still shouldn’t keep us in the dark. It’s not fair,” Nic countered with a surly frown. “Like I’m not good enough for their secret missions? Look at me. I can do more than swim for a long time, at least.”
Nemo rolled her eyes. “Legacy-shaming. Real nice.”
Someone cleared their throat next to Taylor. She turned her head to find that Nigel had sidled up beside her along the wall. His eyes were red-rimmed, his posture like a wilted flower. If anyone had a rougher last few weeks than Taylor, it was Nigel. She started to say something, to put a hand on his shoulder, but he jerked his chin in Kopano’s direction.
“You going to let the big lad take all the heat?”
Taylor returned her gaze to Kopano, who had leaned back in his chair and was now blotting at his mouth with a napkin while Nic stood over him.
“My friends, truly, I wish I could tell you more about our many adventures,” Kopano declared grandly, “but they are highly classified.”
“Aw, that’s horseshit,” Nic complained. “Classified by who?”
“We should say something to Professor Nine or one of the other administrators,” Maiken said. “This situation is really detracting from my ability to learn.”
Taylor sighed. She pushed away from the wall. Looking beyond the crowded tables and arguing students, Taylor saw there were a few members of the kitchen staff hovering around the buffet, plus a Peacekeeper guarding the back exit. She couldn’t tell if they were eavesdropping. Couldn’t take any chances.
She turned to Nigel. “Can you put us in a sound bubble so no one outside can hear?”
“You and me?”
“No,” Taylor said, shaking her head. She motioned to the Garde at the tables surrounding Kopano. “All of us.”
“What’re you going to do?”
“There’s too many secrets,” Taylor replied. “I’m sick of it.”
With that, she strode forward, into the midst of her classmates. They fell gradually silent as they realized Taylor had been standing there for a good portion of their argument. Nic spun away from Kopano and sized her up.
“What’d you do with Miki?” he asked.
Taylor held up a finger. She waited until she sensed a change in the air and could no longer hear the birds chirping outside the student union. Nigel had done as she asked.
“You want to know what’s been going on?” Taylor looked straight at Nic, then past him, at all the faces turned in her direction.
“Uh, I mean, you could go take a shower first . . . ,” Lisbette said quietly. “We’d wait.”
Taylor ignored her, taking a deep breath. She could tell by the expectant looks that her classmates were all ears.
“We first found out about the Foundation when they kidnapped me . . . ,” she began.
Taylor told them everything.
About the Foundation and Bea Barnaby.
About the mole at the Academy.
About Watchtower, the clandestine organization working within Earth Garde.
About Sydal Corp and the weapon designer’s ties to both Earth Garde and the Foundation.
About all the factions interested in controlling them or profiting off them or simply eradicating them.
And then Taylor told them what might happen next.
It was nearly sunset when Taylor finally finished fielding what seemed like endless questions from her classmates. The size of the crowd kept growing, her classmates leaving to go get their roommates or friends, to let them know big stuff was happening. Classes got skipped. Every student came through eventually. She felt like she had to keep explaining the same things over and over, but she stayed patient. At one point, Professor Nine and Dr. Goode popped in to watch, but they respectfully stayed outside Nigel’s sound bubble.
Her mouth was dry from talking. Still in her battle-shredded snowsuit, now unzipped to the waist, Taylor trudged back towards the dormitory feeling like she could sleep for a year. Luckily, Kopano was at her side and seemed happy to let her lean against his shoulder.
“That was very cool,” he told her.
Taylor rubbed her jaw. “I’m freaking exhausted.”
“You know, when the first generation of Human Garde got their Legacies, John Smith pulled us all into a vision and explained everything about the Mogadorians. For the longest time, I thought I dreamed it.”