ACT IV
Throughout the rest of the week at school, Sam and Cord did what Al called "The Avoidance Tap Dance", occasionally going well out of their ways to keep their distance from each other. They were forced together at football practice, but Cord avoided speaking to Sam at all. As it turned out, by Thursday Sam had been approached by most of the other boys who'd been at the initiation and discovered that they all felt he had done the right thing in preventing any injury to Charlie and standing up to Cord. Charlie himself seemed to be in a state of apparent hero worship, which made Sam extremely uncomfortable.
The one holdout turned out to be Elliot Lewis, who sat abruptly in front of Sam at his table in the cafeteria where he was eating with Charlie, Steve Hall and Adam Woodling. "So how's the big hero?" Elliot sneered. "Saved anybody else's butt lately, Becker?"
"Lay off him," Charlie said angrily. "I think you're kinda jealous because your initiation got canceled for tomorrow night. Are you that desperate to be somebody that you have to make nice to a horse's ass like Cord Ericson?"
"What're you, his freakin' butler?" Elliot shot back and dismissed him. "You really think you're somethin', don't ya, Becker. Well, I got news for you. Cord's on the warpath, in case you didn't know. You better watch your back, 'cause you're in deep crap."
"You're pathetic," Sam said coolly. "Here you are accusing Charlie of being my butler. Looks to me like you've become Cord's lackey."
"I warned you," Elliot said and got up as suddenly as he'd arrived, as though unable to think of a suitable retort. Sam and the boys watched him go, and after a moment Steve Hall cleared his throat uneasily.
"You know how Cord is, man," he said. "I don't think I've ever seen anybody who's more fanatical about being in control of things. You know how it's been ever since first grade, Nick - Cord's always beaten people who don't go along with him into a pulp. That's why everybody was so impressed when you stood up to him the other night. Never thought any of us'd get up the guts for that."
Probably, reflected Sam a bit glumly, Nick Becker wouldn't have done it either had he been inhabiting his own body. It was entirely possible that, in saving Charlie, Sam had condemned Nick to serious harm.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
By Friday afternoon after school, Sam was a nervous wreck. Partly it had to do with the football game to be played against Alderton High School that evening, but it was more to do with how Cord would treat him on the field. In the frenzy of a football game, it was possible for Cord to get away with something. Sam paced Nick's bedroom, wondering where Al was and fuming that Ziggy had yet to enlighten them as to what was going to happen this evening instead of the initiation. Actually, Sam hadn't seen Al more than once on Thursday, and that very briefly. It looked as if Al had been interrupted in the middle of something: he'd been dressed in pinstriped pajama bottoms and a very ratty brick-red plaid flannel robe, and his normally tidy hair had been a rumpled mess. When Sam had demanded what Al was doing, Al had mumbled something about Tina managing to draw free time two nights in a row, added perfunctorily that Ziggy still had no new information, and let the Imaging Chamber door shut him out of sight before Sam had time to protest.
Dimly he registered female voices in the next room, undoubtedly those of Colleen and Mrs. Becker. Sam had barely taken any notice of Colleen after he first met her, which as he understood it was characteristic of Nick anyway; so none of the other Beckers noticed anything amiss. Sam gave excuses that he had homework that needed doing and spent as much time as possible in Nick's bedroom. Actually, he'd spent a lot of that time being apprehensive about Cord and desperately bored by turns. During his periods of boredom he'd tried to amuse himself by solving calculus equations from Nick's textbook, with the result that Nick was now some two months ahead of the rest of his class. He was about to make it three, when there came the sound of grating stone. Sam wondered if he'd ever been so happy to hear that noise.
"What happened to you?" he demanded. "Do you know how long it's been since you were here last?"
Al stood for a moment and gazed at Sam while he fiddled with a cigar whose ash was steadily increasing. "Well, hello to you too, Sam," he said coolly. "And how are we today?"
"Anxious," Sam replied. "Did Ziggy ever come up with anything?"
Al shook his head and took a deliberate drag on the cigar. "Nada," he said. Sam stared at him for a long moment, torn between disbelief at Ziggy's continual failures and gratitude that the cigar, like Al, was a hologram. Sam could think of only a scant handful of things that smelled worse than cigars.
"Great," Sam said, frustration finally winning out over both the other emotions. "Ziggy's hitting a brick wall, you disappear for two straight days and have an attitude when you come back, and I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop with Cord the Creep. Can things possibly get any worse?"
Al's chilly mien dissolved when Sam said this. "What's he been up to?"
"He doesn't even come near me," said Sam. "I don't know if that's good or bad."
Al shrugged. "I'd call it good," he remarked, "considering what we're dealing with here. See, I think Ziggy's problem is that whatever Cord-O's planning to do, he hasn't told anybody about it, or else we'd've found out by now."
"He does have one loyalist," Sam said, "Elliot Lewis. Elliot wandered around during lunch and took it upon himself to warn me on Cord's behalf that I'd better watch my back, but he didn't get specific about it. I can't walk around looking over my shoulder every five seconds. Whatever Cord's planning, I wish he'd just get on with it so I can do something about it."
Al sighed and pulled out his handlink to stare at it. Only then did Sam really look at what Al was wearing: this time, he was dressed in a searing lemon-yellow jacket and slacks, with a deep amethyst shirt under that and a kelly-green tie that seemed to be fashioned from lamé. "Turn off that suit," said Sam. "It's blinding me."
"You're a regular comedian, Sam," Al said sarcastically, but didn't look up from the handlink. "I'm not gettin' a thing on this. Something's gotta give, and soon. I always did hate suspense."
There was a tap on the door and both Al and Sam turned to see Colleen standing there, decked out in a lace-trimmed white blouse and a denim- colored calf-length skirt with a country-girl ruffle peeking from the hem. Her face was flushed and she looked excited. "Nick, could you take me to the game with you?" Colleen asked. "I'm meeting someone there."
Sam nodded. "Sure, no problem. You look really pretty tonight, Colleen."
Colleen stared at him for a moment, then smiled faintly, looking very surprised indeed. "Wow, thanks, Nick. That's nice to hear, coming from you."
Sam smiled at her. "Well, it's true. Let me know when you're ready, and we can leave then."
"Okay," Colleen agreed and ducked back into her own room. Sam turned back to see Al looking amazed.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
Al slowly shook his head. "The kid sister's all dressed up. Sam, this is a kid that nobody ever notices, even her own brother most of the time. She just goes through life keeping to herself and doing her schoolwork. She's a little mouse. If you ask me, though, she's dressed up for a date. Now who in the heck would up and ask Little Miss Nobody for a date? Didja see how excited she was?"
"I don't get it," Sam protested. "How do you know all this about Colleen Becker anyway? If she's so overlooked, how would anybody know whether she ever did anything or not?"
"Ziggy checked out this family," Al said. "Your Swiss-cheese memory really lost a big chunk of info there, Sam. Ziggy's the computer equivalent of the Six-Million-Dollar Man. You know, better, stronger, faster. She knows everything. Something doesn't sit right about all this. I'm gonna have Ziggy check out a hunch I've got. See you at the game, and, uh . . . keep an eye on Colleen as long as you can."
Sam frowned and started to ask something, but Al didn't wait around for an answer and vanished back through the Imaging Chamber door. Just as well, he realized when he happened to glance at Nick's digital clock radio. He and Colleen had to get to the game anyway.
Throughout the rest of the week at school, Sam and Cord did what Al called "The Avoidance Tap Dance", occasionally going well out of their ways to keep their distance from each other. They were forced together at football practice, but Cord avoided speaking to Sam at all. As it turned out, by Thursday Sam had been approached by most of the other boys who'd been at the initiation and discovered that they all felt he had done the right thing in preventing any injury to Charlie and standing up to Cord. Charlie himself seemed to be in a state of apparent hero worship, which made Sam extremely uncomfortable.
The one holdout turned out to be Elliot Lewis, who sat abruptly in front of Sam at his table in the cafeteria where he was eating with Charlie, Steve Hall and Adam Woodling. "So how's the big hero?" Elliot sneered. "Saved anybody else's butt lately, Becker?"
"Lay off him," Charlie said angrily. "I think you're kinda jealous because your initiation got canceled for tomorrow night. Are you that desperate to be somebody that you have to make nice to a horse's ass like Cord Ericson?"
"What're you, his freakin' butler?" Elliot shot back and dismissed him. "You really think you're somethin', don't ya, Becker. Well, I got news for you. Cord's on the warpath, in case you didn't know. You better watch your back, 'cause you're in deep crap."
"You're pathetic," Sam said coolly. "Here you are accusing Charlie of being my butler. Looks to me like you've become Cord's lackey."
"I warned you," Elliot said and got up as suddenly as he'd arrived, as though unable to think of a suitable retort. Sam and the boys watched him go, and after a moment Steve Hall cleared his throat uneasily.
"You know how Cord is, man," he said. "I don't think I've ever seen anybody who's more fanatical about being in control of things. You know how it's been ever since first grade, Nick - Cord's always beaten people who don't go along with him into a pulp. That's why everybody was so impressed when you stood up to him the other night. Never thought any of us'd get up the guts for that."
Probably, reflected Sam a bit glumly, Nick Becker wouldn't have done it either had he been inhabiting his own body. It was entirely possible that, in saving Charlie, Sam had condemned Nick to serious harm.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
By Friday afternoon after school, Sam was a nervous wreck. Partly it had to do with the football game to be played against Alderton High School that evening, but it was more to do with how Cord would treat him on the field. In the frenzy of a football game, it was possible for Cord to get away with something. Sam paced Nick's bedroom, wondering where Al was and fuming that Ziggy had yet to enlighten them as to what was going to happen this evening instead of the initiation. Actually, Sam hadn't seen Al more than once on Thursday, and that very briefly. It looked as if Al had been interrupted in the middle of something: he'd been dressed in pinstriped pajama bottoms and a very ratty brick-red plaid flannel robe, and his normally tidy hair had been a rumpled mess. When Sam had demanded what Al was doing, Al had mumbled something about Tina managing to draw free time two nights in a row, added perfunctorily that Ziggy still had no new information, and let the Imaging Chamber door shut him out of sight before Sam had time to protest.
Dimly he registered female voices in the next room, undoubtedly those of Colleen and Mrs. Becker. Sam had barely taken any notice of Colleen after he first met her, which as he understood it was characteristic of Nick anyway; so none of the other Beckers noticed anything amiss. Sam gave excuses that he had homework that needed doing and spent as much time as possible in Nick's bedroom. Actually, he'd spent a lot of that time being apprehensive about Cord and desperately bored by turns. During his periods of boredom he'd tried to amuse himself by solving calculus equations from Nick's textbook, with the result that Nick was now some two months ahead of the rest of his class. He was about to make it three, when there came the sound of grating stone. Sam wondered if he'd ever been so happy to hear that noise.
"What happened to you?" he demanded. "Do you know how long it's been since you were here last?"
Al stood for a moment and gazed at Sam while he fiddled with a cigar whose ash was steadily increasing. "Well, hello to you too, Sam," he said coolly. "And how are we today?"
"Anxious," Sam replied. "Did Ziggy ever come up with anything?"
Al shook his head and took a deliberate drag on the cigar. "Nada," he said. Sam stared at him for a long moment, torn between disbelief at Ziggy's continual failures and gratitude that the cigar, like Al, was a hologram. Sam could think of only a scant handful of things that smelled worse than cigars.
"Great," Sam said, frustration finally winning out over both the other emotions. "Ziggy's hitting a brick wall, you disappear for two straight days and have an attitude when you come back, and I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop with Cord the Creep. Can things possibly get any worse?"
Al's chilly mien dissolved when Sam said this. "What's he been up to?"
"He doesn't even come near me," said Sam. "I don't know if that's good or bad."
Al shrugged. "I'd call it good," he remarked, "considering what we're dealing with here. See, I think Ziggy's problem is that whatever Cord-O's planning to do, he hasn't told anybody about it, or else we'd've found out by now."
"He does have one loyalist," Sam said, "Elliot Lewis. Elliot wandered around during lunch and took it upon himself to warn me on Cord's behalf that I'd better watch my back, but he didn't get specific about it. I can't walk around looking over my shoulder every five seconds. Whatever Cord's planning, I wish he'd just get on with it so I can do something about it."
Al sighed and pulled out his handlink to stare at it. Only then did Sam really look at what Al was wearing: this time, he was dressed in a searing lemon-yellow jacket and slacks, with a deep amethyst shirt under that and a kelly-green tie that seemed to be fashioned from lamé. "Turn off that suit," said Sam. "It's blinding me."
"You're a regular comedian, Sam," Al said sarcastically, but didn't look up from the handlink. "I'm not gettin' a thing on this. Something's gotta give, and soon. I always did hate suspense."
There was a tap on the door and both Al and Sam turned to see Colleen standing there, decked out in a lace-trimmed white blouse and a denim- colored calf-length skirt with a country-girl ruffle peeking from the hem. Her face was flushed and she looked excited. "Nick, could you take me to the game with you?" Colleen asked. "I'm meeting someone there."
Sam nodded. "Sure, no problem. You look really pretty tonight, Colleen."
Colleen stared at him for a moment, then smiled faintly, looking very surprised indeed. "Wow, thanks, Nick. That's nice to hear, coming from you."
Sam smiled at her. "Well, it's true. Let me know when you're ready, and we can leave then."
"Okay," Colleen agreed and ducked back into her own room. Sam turned back to see Al looking amazed.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
Al slowly shook his head. "The kid sister's all dressed up. Sam, this is a kid that nobody ever notices, even her own brother most of the time. She just goes through life keeping to herself and doing her schoolwork. She's a little mouse. If you ask me, though, she's dressed up for a date. Now who in the heck would up and ask Little Miss Nobody for a date? Didja see how excited she was?"
"I don't get it," Sam protested. "How do you know all this about Colleen Becker anyway? If she's so overlooked, how would anybody know whether she ever did anything or not?"
"Ziggy checked out this family," Al said. "Your Swiss-cheese memory really lost a big chunk of info there, Sam. Ziggy's the computer equivalent of the Six-Million-Dollar Man. You know, better, stronger, faster. She knows everything. Something doesn't sit right about all this. I'm gonna have Ziggy check out a hunch I've got. See you at the game, and, uh . . . keep an eye on Colleen as long as you can."
Sam frowned and started to ask something, but Al didn't wait around for an answer and vanished back through the Imaging Chamber door. Just as well, he realized when he happened to glance at Nick's digital clock radio. He and Colleen had to get to the game anyway.