Children of the Fleet (Fleet School #1)(81)

Ragnar saw Dabeet’s inadvertent response. He gestured toward Dabeet. “Why is he even here? He shouldn’t have heard my comment, but I did need to say it, and it’s not as if he’s contributing anything.”

Monkey leaned her head against Ragnar’s shoulder. “You’re so sweet, Ragnar. He’s keeping his mouth shut precisely so that you can say such stupendously insensitive things, as if Dabeet were not a human being with feelings. I think he’s doing it so splendidly that we should let him remain as long as he can stand it.”

Ragnar shrugged her away. “If we have to be nice, we can’t make an honest assessment.”

“Nobody’s worried that we’ll suffer from an excess of niceness,” said Zhang He. “It may be that Dabeet will be prompted to remember information that he doesn’t know that he knows. He’s also quite possibly the smartest person in Fleet School, so it’s not inconceivable that he’ll have an idea worth thinking about.”

“Test smart,” murmured Timeon.

“I’d rather have test-smart,” said Ignazio, “than everything-stupid.”

“If I had a plan,” said Dabeet softly, “I would have either proposed it or carried it out. I only just got into the back corridors, thanks to Monkey. I’m going to explore a lot more, just to see what’s there. I’ll tell you what I find.”

“We already have your list of cleaning supplies,” said Ragnar.

“And if that’s all that’s back there, won’t it be good to know that?” asked Dabeet. “I know that I brought some aspects of this problem with me, but do you really believe that if they’re determined to do this, my noncooperation would have stopped them? It’s quite possible that I’m in this only so that after it’s all a disaster, I’ll be available to blame it on.”

“And all the families of the dead Fleet School kids,” said Ragnar, “will feel much better if you can prove that you tried to stop it.”

“I think the only question we need to answer today,” said Dabeet, “is whether we’re going to try to kill them the moment they appear, or keep our violence level low until they escalate.”

“Your question contains the answer,” said Timeon. “We have to wait till they prove they’re terrorists.”

Monkey shook her head firmly. “That could be with one big station-shattering explosion. If they come, they start dying right away.”

“Make them attend meetings like this till they die of boredom,” said Ragnar.

“You can leave when you want,” said Zhang He.

“I think the real question, the first question, the one we need to decide right now,” said Ignazio, “is why we think we can decide for everybody. Isn’t the whole population of the station at risk? Why do we think we’re fit to decide for all?”

“Because we make really cool structures in the battleroom,” said Monkey, as if this should be obvious to all.

“Very funny,” said Ignazio. “But if we keep this confined to the six of us, how are we different from Dirt Boy keeping this secret for all these months?”

“No name-calling,” said Zhang He.

“Because we might hurt the kay-quop’s feelings?” asked Ignazio. “He’s free to leave, too.”

Dabeet stood up. “I think you’ll be able to speak more freely if I’m not here. I hope you’ll let me know what you decide.” He walked out of the barracks room they were using.

It was rumored to be the barracks that Ender Wiggin’s Dragon Army had used during Battle School days. But if there was an aura of success and brilliance that would spread to anyone using it for a planning meeting, Dabeet had not detected it.

They would think he left because he was angry, but that was only partly right. He agreed with all the scorn they directed at him. He deserved it. But it also wouldn’t help them think well, so it needed to stop. The best way to stop it was to remove the target.

Dabeet went to the first closet door in the corridor, jumped up to tap the palm lock, and was about to go inside when he heard someone coming. He pushed the door back into closed position and sat down against the door with his head resting on his knees.

Adult steps. They came to a stop next to him. “Where are you supposed to be?” asked a man’s voice.

“In a barrio in Indiana,” said Dabeet.

“Oh, it’s you.” Dabeet knew the voice now. It was Gusti, the accounting teacher.

“I lost track of time,” said Dabeet.

“You don’t lose track of anything,” said Gusti. “But I’m looking for Teburoro Timeon. Somebody said he went up to this level and maybe you’ve seen him.”

Dabeet lifted his head from his knees, not having to pretend to feel despondent. “All I’ve been looking at is my knees,” he said. “But you’re the only person I heard walk by.”

“Get back to … whatever…” said Gusti. “Or don’t. You may be right about Indiana. I’d rather be there myself.”

Dabeet shook his head. “Everybody had a choice at the end of the war.”

“Some of us thought we’d have a brilliant military career,” said Gusti, “instead of being stuck in a near-Earth station babysitting a bunch of innumerate children.”