The Search for Artemis

Chapter FIVE

LAY OF THE LAND


Riley led Landon out of the room and down the hall. As they turned the first corner, Landon was shocked to see wooden chairs knocked over and shards of broken glass scattered all over the hardwood floor.

While Landon tiptoed around to avoid the mess, he asked, “So what’s a guy got to steal to make a girl try and crush him with this much conviction?”

“Oh, that’s not important. It was a bet between some of the guys and me. They didn’t think I was good enough to nab something from Parker without using any of my abilities,” Riley explained. “Ugh, if Parker didn’t make so much noise I would have had it, too.”

Landon didn’t say anything. He realized Riley was in his own head, probably running through the entire event in his mind, and he didn’t want to interrupt. He just followed along as Riley led them down the hallway.

Riley took Landon to a narrow, enclosed staircase, and they then proceeded down to the bottom floor. Upon exiting the stairwell, Landon was awestruck by a vast atrium. He had seen it for a split second the day before when he first arrived at the Gymnasium, but the distance hadn’t done the place justice. It covered an immense circular area, and a giant glass dome encased the entire ceiling. Running down from the dome’s center, a conical mass of mirrors refracted the light from outside, bathing the Atrium in warm sunlight. Below the mirrors, a giant oak tree grew, basking in the radiance.

The Atrium served as the central hub for travel around the Gymnasium. Students flowed in and out of the area in pulsing waves. Landon noticed that the Atrium’s entryways were like the points on a compass. In each cardinal direction, there was a long, expansive hallway with walls stretching at least six stories high, floor-to-ceiling, and they were lined in Grecian pillars. These hallways led to the far edges of the facility, but hidden behind a wall at each primary inter-cardinal point of the Atrium, there was a small door that led into a staircase like the one they’d just come from. Landon and Riley had entered from the stairway on the southwest end, and unfazed by the brilliance of the Atrium, Riley sped them around the oak tree and hurriedly ushered Landon into the northeastern stairs on the direct opposite side.

They climbed three flights before exiting into a new hallway. Although not as huge as the ones jutting out from the Atrium, this hallway also had high ceilings and stone pillars lining the walls, spaced at regular intervals. In between the pillars, large clear glass sconces lit the walkway. Faint light flickered behind the glass.

“Are those gas lamps?” Landon asked. “Why would a place built in the twentieth century have gas lamps?”

“Yeah, none of us have been able to figure that one out yet. I think the people who built the place just have some creepy obsession with everything Greek, and they probably thought hallways lit by fire were more authentic than using light bulbs like normal people.” Riley answered without turning to look at Landon. He seemed to have a singular focus to get them to food.

As they approached the end of the hallway, Landon heard the drone of many voices coming from up ahead, and the intoxicating odor of warm food filled the air. When they turned the corner, they were standing before two large doors opened wide for all to enter. Landon saw at least fifty kids around his age moving about the tables, conversing, carrying trays of food, eating, and laughing.

To Landon’s right, people moved through two lines for food. The rest of the place was filled with four long wooden tables running perpendicular to the door with benches on either side. It was a massive place and would sit quite a few people if the occasion demanded.

Landon followed close behind Riley as they moved to the back of the nearest food service line. They both progressed through the queue and filled their plates, piling them high with plentiful scoops of macaroni and cheese, meatloaf with gravy, green beans, pulled pork, roasted chicken, baked beans, pierogies, and mashed potatoes, finishing with a single warm yeast roll covered in honey butter. Salivating, Landon stared longingly at his plate as they proceeded to the tables. He hoped this meal might finally calm the beast rumbling in his abdomen and satiate his incessant hunger.

Riley walked purposefully over to the fourth long table—the one farthest from the door—and began to move down the aisle to a predetermined location to which Landon was not yet privy.

Talking over his shoulder while they walked to their seats, he began, “So, Landon, let me explain this place to you. Just like high school . . . You went to high school, right?”

“Yeah, I was supposed to be a sophomore this year.”

“You’re luckier than I was then. I debuted just before the eighth grade, so I didn’t have a clue when I got here. Anyways, this place is supposed to be just like high school. . . . There is an innate caste system based on popularity that you cannot get around. You’ve got your jocks, your geeks, your rebels and your outcasts, all at their appropriate rung on the social ladder. However, popularity is measured on a slightly different scale than a normal school. Here, the most powerful are the most popular.

“What they didn’t tell you in orientation, unless they changed it since I went through it, is that people aren’t good at everything when it comes to their powers. . . . And here, telekinesis is king. Unless you have some really insane ability no one else can do, everyone wants to be the person who can seriously lift. And the ones who can; they’re . . . your jocks. That would be them in the back corner.”

Riley motioned his head over to the far corner of the cafeteria. A small group of about six guys were gathered around a seventh towering, muscular one who stood with one foot resting on the bench. They were laughing loudly, and Landon could see they exuded that same confidence as the star lacrosse players from his high school. They knew no one could touch them, and they reveled in that power.

“The big guy with the short blond hair—the one who’s standing up and has everyone’s attention—that’s Brock Holbrooke. He’s eighteen and would be the equivalent to the quarterback for the football team. Right now, no one can go near him on lifting. I even saw him lift a whole car once.

“And that Spanish-looking guy sitting down—the one with the tan and shaggy dark hair who’s not really paying attention to Brock—is Cortland Cartwright. He’s from California, so he’s really chill. His abilities got him into the group, and he seems to get along with them okay, but for some reason I don’t think he feels like he completely belongs there.

“Those other two on either side of him that look like carbon copies of one another, though. They’re the Crane twins, Joshua and Jeremiah. They’re Brock’s two right hands. They can’t move as much as Brock,”—it wasn’t hard for Landon to hone in on the two identical-looking guys flanking Cortland. Compared to the two Riley had already introduced, the Cranes both looked rather out of place. Brock and Cortland were tall, buff and tan. The Cranes on the other hand were short, pale and bony—“but they’ve got some serious skill. They freak me out though, because they’re always looking really strangely at one another.”

As Riley educated Landon on the members of the facility’s elite, Landon’s staring caught the attention of Cortland, who turned away from his conversation and locked eyes with him. Landon watched as Cortland proceeded to signal his comrades, who all turned in unison to get a good look at the new member of the Gymnasium. When he realized he was still staring back at them, Landon jerked his head forward and focused on the back of Riley’s head as they continued down the aisle. He hoped to not draw any unwanted attention.

“ . . . and if I had managed to win that bet earlier, I would be sitting with those guys right now,” Riley continued. He stopped at an opening in the table and slid onto the bench, completely oblivious to Landon’s stare-down with the popular kids.

“Seriously, Riley?”

Landon turned to see who owned the loud, high-pitched voice that interrupted Riley’s monologue. She was a tiny girl, no older than twelve, with straight brown hair, almond-shaped eyes, and freckled skin.

“Yeah, I would be,” Riley replied confidently.

“No matter what you do, you are never going to be allowed to sit with them. Even if you lift the gates off their hinges, they’ll still think of you as the guy who embarrassed Brock last year during the Qualifiers.” Landon realized by Riley’s reaction that the girl’s words were like daggers, killing his hopes and dreams with every jab of the knife. She then turned to Landon and introduced herself.

“I’m Kathryn . . . Kathryn Leigh Chapman. You can call me Katie Leigh. And I accept my place as an average citizen of the Gymnasium,”—she gave Riley a pointed glance—“never mind the fact that I was brought here two years younger than any other student in the history of this place.”

Kathryn stood up and shook Landon’s hand. She couldn’t have been but five feet tall.

“I’m Landon.”

“Nice to meet you. So what’s your story? How’d you debut?” she asked as she hijacked the conversation.

“Yeah, why haven’t I asked you yet? . . . How did you debut?” Riley added.

Somewhat taken aback by the gumption of this tiny girl sitting across from him, Landon asked, “Debut?”

“D-E-B-U-T. Develop extra-skeletal behavior and unusual talents . . . debut.” She answered as if she were competing in a school spelling bee. “I made it up, but everyone uses it now. Never mind I don’t get any of the credit,” Katie Leigh explained in a huff. “The scientists, they call it your apocratusis, but I thought that sounded way too clinical.”

“Sorry about her. She’s obnoxious.”

“Oh, be quiet, Riley,” she snidely returned.

Adopting the shorthand of reluctant friends, Riley and Katie Leigh began to bicker. While they fought, Landon tuned them out and started to scan the room.

“How long do people stay here?” he asked when he noticed a few people sitting around that looked noticeably older than high school age. “Does the training ever end?”

“Yes, it ends, and I think the age when people complete the training regime averages around twenty years old,” Katie Leigh answered eagerly after breaking from her argument with Riley. “The majority of the graduates never leave, though. They tend to work in the labs, serve as tutors, or even get employed by the Harpers personally. I’m not entirely sure what happens to the one’s that truly leave. They probably just go off and have normal lives.”

Twenty? At hearing this, Landon couldn’t believe he might spend the next five years of his life at the Gymnasium, but once he thought on it, he realized he didn’t have anywhere else to go, so why not spend it there. Katie Leigh and Riley waited for some response, but as Landon continued to sit pensively, they went back into their heated discussion.

Landon continued his scan of the cafeteria, and with every passing second he became more and more awestruck. There were so many students. They were gathered together in close groups peppered throughout the tables; a line nearly went out the door with people waiting to get their lunch; and more were still filing in. How could they keep all of this secret? he wondered. He continued to look around and caught sight of Celia and Parker, perfectly spaced between two larger groups of students, sitting together at the next table over. They both ate in relative silence with Celia occasionally trying to spark up some conversation.

“So what’s with Parker?” Landon blurted out to his tablemates without turning to ensure he had their attention.

“No one really knows, honestly,” Katie Leigh replied.

Riley continued, “Yeah, she’s a bit of a loner. She doesn’t really talk to anyone and keeps to herself, but no one messes with her. Well, typically no one messes with her. Today was kind of a fluke. She might not hang out with Brock and them, but she’s right up there at their level. I bet having to take the new girl around is killing her.”

For the next hour, while they devoured their massive plates of food, Landon tried to stay focused on all the information Riley gave him on each of the students sitting throughout the lunchroom, but Landon had difficulty keeping up. Riley seemed to know everything about everyone at the Gymnasium. He went person to person, calling out poignant moments from everyone’s past that had landed them in their current social situation. According to him, his current status was only a temporary placement as a “second-string citizen.”

“Now, whatever you do, you don’t want to become an outcast, like Peregrine over there.”

Riley was nearing the end of his internal student directory.

“Who?” Landon asked, trying to focus back on Riley.

“Peregrine Mortimer. That girl sitting over there.”

Riley motioned to a girl about sixteen sitting alone at a distant table. She didn’t look like what he had expected of an outcast, but she did have that typical introspective quality about her. She had a child-of-Oberon look due to her petite frame coupled with short, haphazardly cropped platinum blonde hair and luminescent pale skin. But despite her spritely qualities, she seemed to dress normal enough, and her most striking feature was her violet eyes. Landon thought she was quite beautiful, and he wondered what could be so bad that made her a social leper.

“Yeah, she has it the worst. I’m surprised the Gymnasium actually keeps her around. She can barely lift a book, and in her condition.”

“Her condition?”

“She’s blind,” Katie Leigh interjected.

Landon found himself staring at her, imagining the circumstances that would bring her to a place like the Gymnasium, only to make her an outcast. Suddenly, she raised her head and faced Landon head-on. It was like she was staring right back at him, but her eyes were blank.

“All right, Landon, I think we better get moving. If Dr. Wells wants me to show you around this place, it is going to take a while. It’s huge.”

Riley’s words jolted Landon out of his trance. He rotated around and, grabbed his tray, and stood up. Landon shouted “Goodbye” to Katie Leigh before hurriedly catching up with Riley.

For the rest of the afternoon, Riley led Landon around the Gymnasium. At each of the four corners of the facility there was a massive tower with colossal hallways identical to the ones branching off the Atrium, connecting one to the other. The towers each housed a separate function of the Gymnasium: the Administrative Tower in the southeast; the Library in the southwest; the northeast tower—where they’d had lunch—was the Student Tower; and the northwest tower was off limits to the general student population—Riley just referred to it as the Restricted Tower. And he didn’t seem to have any idea what went on there. To access the individual floors of each tower, one had to take the main stairs off the giant hallways or use the hidden stairwells that exited into the Atrium.

Riley took Landon through each floor of each tower in perfect tour guide fashion. On the base floor of the Administrative Tower resided the medical wing, which Landon already knew far too well, with the scientists’ labs above it, then the faculty offices. and the tutoring rooms for their normal scholastic education.

The majority of the Student Tower was filled with the student dormitories, but speckled throughout the floors were the cafeteria, recreation area and some study rooms.

The training facilities, where Landon would be learning to control his newfound powers, were in the northwest wing of the Gymnasium adjacent to the Restricted Tower and could only be accessed by the enclosed staircase in the Atrium.

After what seemed like hours, Riley concluded the tour by bringing Landon to the Library. Riley explained to Landon that it was probably the least frequented area of the entire facility, but as they entered, Landon had a near out-of-body experience. From the outside, the tower may have looked square, but inside it was a goliath rotunda. Books upon books covered its outer walls, creating a tube of literary masterpieces, and running up its center, a wide spiral ramp wound up to the ceiling.

Landon bolted up the ramp without even telling Riley where he was going. He moved quickly around, pressing up the incline, catching book titles as he breezed by, and noticed that occasionally, small doors led into secluded reading areas with more books shelved all around. The entire time, Riley stood in the center of the rotunda floor, watching the strange behavior of his companion.

Landon ran from one floor to another and disappeared for minutes on end into the back rooms. After a while of this, Riley finally saw him emerge and head back down to the ground floor. As Landon reached him, Riley noticed that he was carrying something.

“What’s that you got?”

“Oh, it’s just Treasure Island,” Landon replied, holding the book up in his hand so Riley could see it. “I really needed something to read.”

“You are one weird guy, you know that? Apart from Katie, I have never seen someone act like that when they came in here.” Riley looked all around as he spoke, as if he was looking for someone to agree with him, but found no one.

Landon never replied. He just looked down at the worn cover of the old leather-bound copy of his favorite childhood story. It was soft, worn from countless reads, but there were a few small rough bumps where water had obviously seeped into the leather. Landon didn’t mind at all. After being brought to this place, he’d realized he might be able to survive at the Gymnasium after all.

Following their visit to the Library, it was already time for dinner. The sun was setting and the Atrium emitted a vibrant pink light throughout the halls of the facility. Landon wasn’t hungry after the gargantuan meal he devoured at lunch, but he joined Riley for a quick bite before they headed to his new living quarters. As they walked down the hallway, Riley pulled Landon’s schedule out of his back pocket.

“All right, so we need to head up to the fourth floor. Your room is up there,” Riley said as he read through the text on the page. They started walking that way while Riley continued to read. “Today’s Tuesday, so it looks like you have Telekinetics tomorrow morning at nine as well as on Fridays and Mondays. Huh . . . I’m in that same session, so I guess I’ll see you there.”

“But I thought you’ve been here for two years?” Landon worriedly asked. “Why would they put me in the same session with you? I’m not ready for that.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. They place you in the levels where they think you are most prepared. You must be farther along than most people coming in. And Telekinetics is more about control, not power, so everyone is always working on the same thing.”

Landon stared ahead nervously.

How could I be farther along than most people? he thought as they moved through the facility.

Riley didn’t pay any attention to Landon’s fear-struck facial expression and continued to read through Landon’s schedule.

“Tactometry’s on Tuesday and Thursday mornings. You’re so lucky to only have that twice a week, let me tell you.”

“I don’t even know what it is.” Landon felt himself getting more and more anxious, clamming up with every class Riley rattled off.

“You remember Dr. Wells talking about extensity and tactometric spheres in orientation? Your reach? Tactometry’s supposed to train you to”—Riley altered his voice to what Landon imagined was supposed to resemble a pompous professor—“‘broaden your extensity and hone your sensitivity.’ But it’s more like glorified meditation for three hours twice a week. You just sit there with your eyes closed, ‘feeling the world around you.’

“And you have Thought Reception in the afternoons on the same days you have Tactometry. It looks like we will be together in that one too. Your tutoring sessions where they’ll teach you math and science and stuff are after lunch on Mondays and Wednesdays. That’s not too bad.

“So now,”—Riley looked up from the paper for the first time since they left the Library—“let’s find your room.”

Landon followed closely, watching as Riley searched the room numbers above the doors. Landon had no idea what room he was assigned. Riley never said it aloud. Eventually, Riley stopped.

“So here we are, room 498. Wait—no way! You can’t be serious!” Riley’s voice turned from one of a gracious host leading his guest to their appropriate lodgings to one of an obsessed conspiracy theorist who just received crucial evidence from an anonymous source.

“What? What is it?”

“You’re roommate . . . it’s Brock. You’re sharing a room with Brock Holbrooke!”

“Are you sure?” Landon shakily asked.

“Yeah, this is supposed to be your room—498. Your name’s right there under Brock’s.”

Riley stepped away from the door and pointed to a small placard mounted to the right of the doorway. On it, a card with Landon’s name was in the slot below “Brock Holbrooke.” Landon stared wide-eyed at the sign. Riley had overwhelmed him with feelings of unpreparedness as he went through his schedule, and now he was to bunk with the alpha male of the Gymnasium’s elite. Landon wasn’t ready for any of it.

After a few deep breaths, Landon stepped up to the door, hesitantly turned the handle and walked in. The room was pitch black, and the air felt dungeonous and suffocating. Being one of the interior rooms, there were no windows to cast any natural light or get any air circulation. Landon flicked up the light switch, and the room’s overhead bulbs turned on with blinding intensity. Landon let out a sigh of relief, though, when he saw Brock wasn’t there.

The room was in perfect symmetry. On either side, an extra-long twin bed jutted out with the headboards pushed up against the back wall. Next to Landon’s bed was a small, two-drawer wooden nightstand and a little double bookshelf, and each had their own four-drawer dresser and a desk with a rolling chair along the side walls. But even with its symmetrical layout, it wasn’t difficult for Landon to distinguish Brock’s side from his.

Brock’s bed was covered in disheveled blue sheets and an overstuffed comforter. A couple of drawers were ajar and loose articles of clothing and toiletries covered his dresser. His desk had papers strewn everywhere, and a stack of books was haphazardly piled up on his nightstand.

Landon, however, was welcomed with a neat stack of white sheets and a green comforter folded flawlessly at the foot of his naked mattress. His shelf contained a small collection of books lined up from tallest to shortest, and his desk was clear, except for a brand new laptop and a desk lamp. Landon set the copy of Treasure Island on his desk as he walked over to the dresser.

He opened his drawers to find them stuffed with pairs of pajamas, t-shirts, sweaters, pants, shorts, underwear and socks that weren’t his. His closet wasn’t any different. Jackets, an assortment of long-sleeve and short-sleeve oxfords and a few pairs of dress trousers lined the racks, and the closet floor was covered in at least twelve pairs of shoes in all styles.

“Everything okay?” Riley asked. Landon had forgotten Riley was still standing beside the door.

“Is this all Brock’s?” Landon asked.

Riley walked over to the closet and inspected one of the dress shirts that were hanging on the pole. “Nope, it’s too small. . . . I actually think it’s yours” he said. He continued to peruse the closet, pulling miscellaneous pieces off the rack and scrutinizing them for a few moments before wedging them back into place. Riley spent a bit longer inspecting a green, felt basketball jacket with a ribbed neckline, cuffs and hem. “Can I have this?” he asked shamelessly.

Can this all really be for me? Who bought it? Where did it come frome? Landon was having difficulty wrapping his head around everything. When he was woken up that morning, he had no idea how much his life would change by dinner time. He wasn’t sure how to react to it all. Then he noticed an old pair of pants lying in the seat of his desk chair.

“Seriously, can I have this?” Riley asked again, holding the jacket up prominently for Landon to see.

“Sure,” Landon said, distracted.

His eyes were solely trained on the pants; he couldn’t figure out why he didn’t notice them earlier. He walked over, picked up the pair of worn jeans and pulled them toward him. A note fell to the floor. Riley quickly grabbed it and handed it back to Landon, who opened it up and read it.



Landon,

I hope you like your new space. I know you didn’t come with much, so I have taken the liberty to acquire all the necessary items to make your stay here as comfortable as possible.

You will notice that I have stocked your drawers and closet with an assortment of clothing and shoes that I hope you find to your liking. I used Dr. Marquez’s measurements to determine your size, so everything should fit. I found you some nice linens and put together a modest set of personal hygiene products. I also managed to get you a new laptop and a set of all the appropriate reading materials that you’ll need for your studies.

And if you’re reading this, it means you noticed I was able to rescue your old jeans from the incinerator. It was a perilous mission, but I returned victorious.

I told you I’d take care of everything.



Welcome to your new home,

- Sofia



“You okay?” Riley asked while Landon read over the note a second time.

“Ye . . . Yeah, everything’s fine,” Landon replied. “I can’t believe all this is happening.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it. Give it a few days and it’ll feel just like home,” Riley said. “Anyways, I’ll leave you to get used to your new place. The community bathrooms with showers are down the hall to the right. And I’m heading to the Rec Center on the second floor for a while if you feel like joining, but if not, I guess I will see you tomorrow at breakfast? Eight o’clock, sound good? Afterwards, you can come with me to Telekinetics. I kind of feel responsible for making sure you don’t get lost on your first day of training.”

“Yeah,” Landon replied. “Eight o’clock. I’ll be there.”

Riley grabbed the door handle and closed the door on his way out, leaving Landon alone in his new residence.

Landon stood in the same spot for a while, taking in his new surroundings. Eventually, he put the jeans on the dresser and spent the next half hour making the bed and going through all of his new stuff, mentally cataloguing what he had and where it was. Everything seemed normal, except the laptop. There was no power cord or even an input for the charger cable. Landon turned it over in his hands multiple times, trying to figure out how it worked. How does this thing stay on? he wondered. What is it, solar powered or something? If it was, he’d have a problem . . . no windows.

Landon plopped down onto the bed, physically and mentally exhausted from the day. Is this really happening? How can a place like this even exist? he thought as he stared at the white ceiling. What wardrobe did I walk through, because this place is a whole other world? As Landon contemplated everything he’d gone through in the past two days, he slowly began to accept that the Gymnasium was his new home. All of a sudden, he felt himself choking up and his eyes getting watery as the reality of his mother’s death resurfaced in his mind. If they knew I was a psychokinetic, why didn’t they get me earlier? Why couldn’t they train me before everything happened?