The Second Ship (The Rho Agenda #1)(26)

During lunch break, Heather and the twins made their way outside to the football field to sit in the bleachers, so they could be alone. By the time Heather finished explaining the developments on the ship and its ongoing impact on her life, Jennifer was wide-eyed.

Mark just grinned. “Cool. You hear that, Doc? We have our own Rain Girl. Maybe we could set her up at a casino blackjack table. I’ve been wanting a new set of skis.”

Jennifer glared at her brother. “Is that all you can say? Can’t you see this is causing Heather problems? God! Are you even related to me?”

Heather laughed. “It’s okay, Jen. Anyway, I could never pass for twenty-one, even in Vegas.” A serious look settled back over her face. “Are either of you having any issues with thinking?”

Mark shook his head. “Nope. Same as ever, except the memory thing.”

“Don’t let him kid you,” said Jennifer. “His reflexes, balance, and coordination have improved drastically. And based on his recent grades in Spanish class, his foreign language aptitude is off the charts.”

“And you?” Heather asked.

“I really haven’t noticed much.”

Mark snorted. “Right. ‘Data’ here has scanned every book in the school library into her memory. But then her memory was getting cluttered, so she came up with a Dewey Decimal scheme to mentally organize the books.”

Heather’s mouth dropped open.

“But here’s the kicker. She even rescanned every book she’d already memorized. I swear, I laughed my ass off watching her do it too. She just sat there, eyes closed, for hours. You’d have thought she was Gandhi.”

Jennifer’s face turned beet red. “Mark! That’s not fair. I have to be able to find the information when I need it.”

Heather nodded. “Jen, don’t let him get your goat. I think your solution is brilliant.”

Jennifer turned back toward Heather, excitement shining in her eyes. “I figured something else out too. Even though we have these perfect memories, we can’t understand data we have no background for. We still have to learn the material in order to utilize it. We just learn things way faster than normal. But it’s more than that.

“What happened to you these last few days just confirms what I was already thinking,” she continued. “The ship affects us differently depending upon our natural strengths. That’s why Mark’s physical and language skills are surging. It’s why you’re the math goddess and I’m a data machine.

“There’s one other thing,” Jennifer said. “We can’t afford to show off our new skills.”

“She wants us to throw tests,” Mark explained.

“Not throw them. Just avoid acing them all. We need to keep our scores close to our traditional grade point averages.”

“Which I don’t think is fair,” Mark said. “You two are straight-A students, but I get Bs and Cs.”

Heather laughed. “Come on, let’s head back. Classes are starting. I like Jen’s plan. Just stay inconspicuous.”

“That might be okay for you two, but I want to make some noise in high school,” Mark said.

Before Jennifer could deliver a harsh retort, Mark headed off, leaving Heather and Jennifer staring after him.

“It’s all right, Jen,” said Heather. “He'll be okay.”

Jennifer shrugged. “I hope so. I really, really hope so.”





Chapter 17





Inconspicuous.

Mark Smythe moved down the hallway of Los Alamos High School with unnatural grace, slightly shifting his weight so that the stream of students flowed past without touching him, a feat that would have been regarded as phenomenal had anyone else been aware of it.

He wasn’t stupid—he wouldn’t blow their cover—but he wasn’t about to hide his talents either. He didn’t have a problem with continuing to get imperfect grades, but at least one should jump to an A. The rest could remain Bs.

Jennifer was not going to like the rest of what he had planned for the year. Not one little bit.

Hopefully Heather would be cool with it, but if not, then the girls would just have to get over it together. Maybe he should have told Jennifer that he had already asked Dad for permission to go out for the basketball team, and Dad had enthusiastically signed the permission slip.

“You know, at five-eleven, you’re going to have to work a lot harder than the bigger guys,” his dad had said. “Also, your schoolwork better not suffer. You sure you’re willing to make that commitment?”

Mark grinned. Oh, he would practice all right, and keeping up with schoolwork wasn’t going to be a problem anymore.

The gymnasium was empty when Mark walked in, something that wasn’t surprising since tryouts weren't going to start until next week.

Mark grabbed a basketball from the rack against the wall and began dribbling it out onto the court, feeling the ball’s responsiveness to the movements of his hands. Like most of his friends, Mark had played sports since grade school. Basketball had been his favorite of the team sports. He had been good, but not the best. That was about to change.

The ball felt different. Mark could feel every dimple in the ball’s skin, the lines where the sections joined, how the rotation changed as it struck the gym floor and returned to his hand.