7 DIRE WARNING

7 DIRE WARNING Lunar day 217 Midmorning Zan showed up in the middle of math class. School at MBA took place in the rec room, but since there were nine kids in several different grades, the logistics were complicated. We were usually lumped into three groups: the high school kids (Cesar and the Sjobergs), the middle schoolers (me, Kira, and Roddy), and the elementary schoolers (Violet, Inez, and Kamoze). All our classes were taught over ComLinks from earth. The high schoolers and middle schoolers normally jacked in to individual tablets with headphones for our classes, while the elementary schoolers gathered

around the large SlimScreen together. This was because the little kids couldn't manage their own equipment or even keep their headphones on for more than five minutes. It wasn't a great system, because the little kids usually made a lot of noise, which could be distracting—and they easily got distracted themselves. The high school kids were supposed to wrangle them, but they never did. In fact, the Sjobergs barely ever showed up at all, which explained why both of them were about as smart as stalks of celery. (They were absent that day as well.) So it usually fell to Kira and me to deal with the little ones. That morning, the elementary schoolers were being more distracting than usual. They were learning about dinosaurs, and all three were eagerly trying to prove that they could make the loudest velociraptor noises. Of course, I was distracted by the Nina situation as well. Questions kept tumbling through my mind as I tried to work: Where could Nina be? There was no evidence that she'd left the base, but she certainly didn't seem to be anywhere inside it either. Only, how could she have left without a space suit? And what could have possibly motivated her to leave?

Meanwhile, there were still the Sjobergs to think about. What had they been doing in the offices when Roddy saw them? Why had the family been so quiet that morning? Were they connected to Nina's disappearance? And if so, why? My last conversation with Zan was also disturbing me. I desperately wanted to know what kind of danger the earth was in. So I was excited to see her —even though she nearly scared the pants off me when she showed up. One second, I was doing word problems. The next, she was sitting beside me. One of the most unnerving things about having an alien beam herself into my brain was how abruptly she could appear. Zan usually tried to make this easier on me by projecting an image of herself walking into the room like a normal person, but sometimes she forgot—or simply couldn't make it work. At those times, her sudden presence could be startling, kind of like when you were crossing what you thought was an empty street and then realized there was a truck bearing down on you. I did my best not to overreact. I managed to only jump in my seat a bit. Roddy looked my way, but I acted like I was stretching. Roddy bought it and returned his

attention to his work. Or rather, pretending to work. He was secretly reading a graphic novel instead of doing his math problems. Since our math teacher, Dr. Levinson, was back on earth, it was hard for him to keep tabs on all of us. I did my best to pretend I was doing my math as well while speaking to Zan inside my head. "Where have you been?" I asked. "I really need to talk to you." "I am sorry I couldn't get back to you sooner. Some things came up." What could possibly have been more important than the future of earth? I thought. If I'd been talking to a human, I would have kept it to myself, not wanting to antagonize her, but since Zan could read my thoughts, it was as though I'd said it anyhow. Yet another unnerving thing about communicating directly from your brain. "It would be very hard for you to understand," Zan said, which was her standard answer to almost any question I asked about her planet. "Can you tell me about the danger earth is in, then?" "Earth is not in danger." "But you said it was...."

"No. I said it was important for us to be in contact with one another. You made an assumption that earth was in danger. I am sorry if there was any miscommunication on my part. As you know, I sometimes have trouble with your language. It is quite difficult to master." I stared at Zan. Once again I had the sense she wasn't being completely honest. As I gazed into her crystal-blue eyes, though, I began to feel okay about that. And then I found myself wondering if Zan was calming me herself, somehow manipulating my brain. I had the very faint sensation of something working on my mind that wasn't me. "Dashiell, why aren't you doing your work?" I looked up, startled, to find Dr. Levinson staring at me on the SlimScreen. When he wasn't teaching us math, Dr. Levinson was a rocket scientist at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Pasadena, California. "Sorry," I said. "I'm finding it hard to concentrate today. With Nina being missing and all." Chang had told his superiors at NASA about Nina's disappearance. They were doing their best to keep the story secret, even from other divisions, so that the public didn't find out, but Chang had insisted upon letting our teachers know. He thought

all us kids—especially the little ones—might need some additional emotional support dealing with the crisis. Dr. Levinson tried to give me some right then. "I understand," he said supportively. "An event like this can be quite unsettling." Roddy perked up at this. "I'm having trouble concentrating too! Maybe we should cancel class for today." "Rodrigo," Dr. Levinson said sternly. "Please tell me you're not trying to use a crisis situation for something as petty as getting out of math class." "No, I would never do that!" Roddy replied, even though that was exactly what he'd been doing. Of course, that was exactly what I was doing too. But I was better at selling it than Roddy. "I just thought of something Nina said to me last night that might be important," I told Dr. Levinson. "Can I go tell Chang and my father?" "All right," Dr. Levinson said. "But come right back." "I will. Thank you." I got up and headed for the door. Zan followed me. Or at least she projected an image of herself following me into my brain.