Alex woke up with perspiration running down his face. The first thing he did was wonder why he was in a hospital. He recognized the normal hospital-y stuff, like the screens showing your heart rate and vitals, and the blank walls with a single chair in the back of the room. But he'd never had things hooked up to him. They were sticky, like tiny suction cups. Alex reasoned that's what they were. But how were they being transmitted to the screens by his bed? Which ones were they being transmitted to?

Alex suddenly realized that he was alone. Ian was in Hong Kong. Jack was... where was she?

"Jack?" Alex said quietly. He sat up. "Jack!" No one answered.

Alex started breathing quickly. He was scared. Why was he in a hospital? Where was Jack? Was he hurt? Did he have a concussion? He knew what the feeling was; he'd gotten one during a particularly physical football match. But... no. That couldn't be right. Why couldn't he remember...?

Suddenly, the door creaked open. A head appeared, with scruffy dark hair and sea-green eyes. Then, the door pushed open farther and a boy shuffled into the doorway.

"Um... hi," the boy said shyly.

"Hi," was all Alex could think of to say.

"You're awake," the boy said, sounding a little breathless.

Alex raised an eyebrow. "No, I'm asleep." He started fake snoring.

The boy laughed, an infectious sound that made Alex want to laugh too. "You're funny."

"I try."

The boy paused, then blurted, "Why do you live with your uncle?"

Alex stopped. "How do you know about that?"

The boy's face went white. "I—I'm sorry—I just... knew a bit about you, is all."

Alex nodded. "And this makes me trust you?"

The boy shook his head. "No, it's not like that. It's just—you're the only other kid my age who's here. And my—my ADHD makes me blurt stuff out like that. Sorry."

"ADHD?" Alex asked, distracted.

"Yeah," the boy said uncomfortably. "My mom... my mom and I just found out about it a couple months ago and..." His face darkened. "You're not... freaked out, are you?"

"Why would I be freaked out?" Alex said.

The boy shuffled his feet. "Some people—a lot, actually... think I'm weird because of the diagnosis."

"I don't think you're weird," Alex told him. "You seem perfectly likable to me."

The boy's face brightened. "Really?"

Alex nodded. "Really."

The boy came over by Alex's bedside, and held out his hand. "I'm Percy. Percy Jackson."

Alex shook his hand. "Alex Rider."

Percy smiled. "I know. I read your file."

Alex blinked. "I have a file?"

Percy nodded. "Uh-huh. It's not that big, just kinda full of words, ya know? About you, and your uncle Ian—"

"He doesn't like it when I call him Uncle," Alex said quickly. "Just... Ian."

"And Jack, too," Percy said. "Your housekeeper. Is she nice?"

"The nicest," Alex told him. He hesitated. "Percy... how old are you?"

"Eight," Percy replied. "My birthday was in August."

"I'm seven," Alex said. "I turn eight in January."

"Cool!" Percy responded. "So we're almost the same!"

"Yeah," Alex said thoughtfully. He looked around the hospital room. "Say, Percy... can you tell me where we are? Are we in a hospital?"

Percy shrugged. "Of sorts. They call it a research lab."

"Who's 'they?'" Alex asked him.

"The doctors and the scientists," Percy answered.

"And what are they researching?"

"That's a tougher one," Percy said, tapping his finger on his chin. "But I think it's us."

The boys crept out of Alex's hospital room and Percy led him to a small room with one bunk bed and a single bed.

"You'll he staying with me," Percy said. "I've got the bottom bunk. You want the top or the single?"

Alex shrugged. "I'll take the top."

"You got any bags?" Percy asked. He seemed much more comfortable with Alex now that they had officially met.

Alex shook his head. "No."

"Great, me neither," Percy said brightly. "When I got here a couple of weeks ago, I didn't have anything with me. They just get stuff for you based on your file." He gestured to Alex. "See? You're a Chelsea supporter, aren't you?"

"Born and raised," Alex said. He looked down, and saw that he was indeed wearing a clean Chelsea jersey. But he hadn't been wearing it before, he was sure of it.

Percy swung his legs on the bottom bunk. "That's what I mean. You get good stuff here. Even the food's good. And I've been to enough schools to know that good cafeteria food is hard to come by."

Alex sat next to Percy on the bunk. "So, you've been here for weeks?" He asked him.

Percy nodded.

"And there hasn't been another kid here?"

"No," Percy said. "For awhile, the doctors called me First. Cause I was the first kid here."

"That's sick," Alex said.

Percy nodded. "Yeah. But the best thing to do is to tell them your name as soon as possible. But don't get too angry when they call you a number. They just smile when you do that."

"Good to know," Alex said. "Reckon they'll call me Second?"

"Maybe they'll lose count by the time this place is full of kids," Percy said hopefully.

Alex smiled. "You, two-thousand twenty-one! No, you! I meant you!"

Percy laughed. There was a knock on the door.

"Come in!" Percy called. The door opened, and a woman appeared. "Hello, Percy," she said. She nodded to Alex. "Second."

"I don't know if you knew," Alex said quietly, standing up from the bunk. "But my name is Alex."

But the woman only smiled. "We'll see about that, Second."

Percy shot him a look that meant, see what I mean? and asked the woman, "Dr. Wilkinson, when's lunch?"

Dr. Wilkinson smiled again. "Twelve minutes, Percy."

Percy raised his eyebrows up and down at Alex, who rolled his eyes. "Twelve minutes it is." Dr. Wilkinson looked back at Alex. "I'll need to see you after lunch, 'kay?"

Alex shrugged. "If you say my name right, maybe you will."

Dr. Wilkinson looked thoughtful. "Hmm. I suppose you could be stubborn like that. Or... you could find out where you are." She left.

Alex turned to Percy. "I can't go to see her, Percy. There's something off about her."

"There's something off about everybody," Percy said offhandedly. "You'll get used to it."

All of a sudden Alex thought of Alice in Wonderland. We're all mad here. Wasn't that appropriate? But Alex wouldn't fall into their trap. And he would take Percy with him: the poor kid had been here for too long already.

But the first step to getting out of there was to find out exactly where he was. And to do that...

Alex sighed. "I guess I have an appointment after lunch."

Percy really liked Alex. He seemed nice enough. He would probably be fitting in at the lab soon. Maybe the adults would call him his real name by the end of the week. But something was nagging at Percy: did he want Alex to get accustomed here? Did he want to get accustomed here? Part of him wanted to stay here, where the food was good and he was treated normally, not like some freak with ADHD. But... he wanted to go home. He wanted to go home to his mom with her blue pancakes and sweet candy smell. He wanted to go home to his mom's warm smiles and hugs when he got through the school day without something odd happening to him. He even wanted to—he shuddered—go back to Smelly Gabe, who treated him terribly but was stupid enough to be predictable. Here, Percy didn't know when he was going to have a surprise doctor's visit with Dr. Crandall, or have to get pulled out of individual classes to do some enhanced enrichment work. He couldn't even read it anyway, with his dyslexia, but the adults didn't seem to care. Even if he was picked on at school and he wasn't wanted by his stepdad at home, Percy still wanted to go back to his house. Back to normal. Back to his waiting

mom's arms.

That settled it. Percy was getting out of there. And he was taking Alex with him.

After lunch, while Alex headed off to talk to Dr. Wilkinson, Percy went to the library. It was where he always went after lunch, but he didn't go to read. He looked to make sure the librarian, Mrs. Jáves, was gone. Then, he climbed onto the top of a shelf. He sat there, looking at all of the books, of histories of the lab and fairytales and adventure stories. He would read books like that someday. At first, when he'd first tried to read, his mom had really pushed him to try harder. But he couldn't make the words form. He couldn't unscramble he letters. He couldn't string together sentences like the other kids could. Finally, his mother realized that he had dyslexia, and that it was normal that he couldn't put the letters together. But Percy saw other people read. He saw other kids and adults pour over pages of books and magazines and newspapers like their lives depended on it. And he wished... he wished he had that feeling, of just once—just once—being able to fit the words together.

Percy sat down on the shelf and swung his legs. The shelf wasn't as high up as some of the others, which he found slightly comforting. At least, if he fell, it wouldn't be such a big drop. Quietly, he started humming to himself. Don't worry about a thing. Don't worry, be happy.

Thump.

Percy stopped. "He... hello?" He called out tentatively. "Anybody here?"

There was no answer. He saw a shadow flit across the library door, of a small figure. But then it was gone, and the silence of the library was complete once more.