Ilius looked around the shuttle. There were about nineteen other boys, all about the same size as him, except one. He promised himself not to make any eye contact to give any sparks. It would all play out too soon, and he would be in more trouble than he was already in. Alan Richell, the other boy who sat next to him told him his name was Luscious, along with a piece of advice: He picks on the smaller kids, and doesn't like anyone getting in his way. Ilius nodded at that, and continued the rest of wait, trying to avoid looks from the officers that loomed through the aisle, making sure they weren't causing any trouble.

He looked at his bandaged hands. The blood was showing through the white wrapping, which indicated that he needed to wrap them again. His medical kit was at home. There was nothing that he needed to bring, or could bring to Battleschool. All the supplies he needed were all ready up there. Except his family.

No, he said to himself. I can't miss them. They're out of my life for the moment…for a while. Remember, this isn't summer camp.

"It's almost time," Alan whispered beside him. An officer came and tightened the harnesses on their chests, tightly. "I've never been in space before."

"None of us have," Ilius replied, balling his hands into fists.

"What happened to your hands? It looks like it hurts."

"It was an accident before I left. It happens all the time, nothing to get excited about."

"Really?"

Alan stopped his talking when he felt a jolt. So, this is what it feels like launching into space, Ilius thought.

It wasn't long before they were all slightly dangling from their straps, slightly floating. "Hey nimbrain," said a boy behind him. Ilius tried to ignore him.

"Hey nimbrain, I'm talking to you. Move your nitwit head out of the way so I can get my friend." He jerked Ilius' head to the right, moving it for himself. Ilius felt his temper rise. The next time that boy did that, he'll be sorry for messing with him. His head moved back in place. The hand swapped at it again, but this time Ilius caught it, with both hands.

"Stop that," Ilius said, twisting his wrist. The boy yelled in desperate mercy.

"Stop! Stop, you're hurting me!"

It a moment's time Graff was by their aisle, placing the boy back against his seat. Ilius let go, and crossed his arms, slowly releasing his anger.

"You don't want to mess with him, understand, soldier? Answer me!"

"Yes sir," he boy replied.

"That goes for all of you!" Graff said, now looking in all directions of the shuttle. "You don't have any brains, don't mess with Ilius Bowden. You make him mad, he'll tear you apart, understand?"

A bunch of 'yes, sir's filled the shuttle.

Ilius glanced at Alan. He turned away from him now, focusing on Colonel Graff, who got everyone's attention. Even the other officers. His day has become more complicated than it needed to be. One moment the whole world wants to pick on you, another moment the whole universe is afraid of you. He tried becoming invisible, but it doesn't really work in null gravity.

A little while later, a voice over a speaker told them it was almost time for them to dock. They all exited upwards, climbing the small ladder out. Graff waited for them when they came out into the school.

"So, what was it like?" Graff asked.

"Like going into space," Ilius said, not really putting any thought into his answer.

"Right."

"The whole world hates me now, Graff," Ilius said. "I thank you for that."

"They may hate you, but you'll get respect."

"Really?"

"You have high hopes Ilius. A lot of people will have trouble denying you."

"You almost make me feel like Augustus."

"I was thinking more like Julius Caesar," Graff replied. Maybe Graff wasn't so rebellious after all.

Ilius didn't reply.

"Don't let it get to your head. Screwing up in the place where you belong is a bad and dangerous thing."

"Thanks for the advice," Ilius replied.

Graff watched him as he left. That kid was going to have problems, even when he's one of the greatest. His maturity as taken its toll.

Ilius met Alan back at the dormitory. He came to find out they were in the same group, but he had a feeling that was going to change in a short time. Other boys were coming in, quickly picking bunks. All of a sudden he was glad he wasn't claustrophobic…because of the ceilings. He chose the bunk closest to the door, not taking any risks with being closer to the back. At the end of it he opened his locker, examined the contents then closed it back. He spent some time wearing uniforms for going to a Catholic school, but jumpsuits didn't really suit him. Unlike his father, he never liked assigned clothing. But the object that really got him interested was the pistol like thing by what seemed like a space suit. He shook his head. There weren't any lethal weapons allowed here. It must have been here probably for some kind of game.

"I think I've found my place," Alan said, hanging his head from the top bunk, looking down at Ilius. "Did you see the pistol?"

"I saw it, but I don't think it's a pistol. It's probably for some kind of game. I've heard something about it, I think."

"You think? You seem like a person that knows EVERYTHING. Someone who's everyone's hero."

"Is that an early prediction?"

"I'm really just following what my brother always tell me. He was the hero. Always the hero. He just doesn't know what it's like to be a Third."

"You're a Third?"

"Unfortunately, yes. So is our 'mom'."

"Our what?"

Alan turned his glance towards a young man who looked gentle. He was talking with some of the other boys.

"You didn't hear, did you?"

"No, I was busy."

"Looking at the insides of our lockers?"

"Never mind. What's his name?"

"Dap."

"Strange name."

"So is Ilius, no offense. Dinner's in five minutes, by the way. You missed that too."