Beneath the Red Sand

12 || Chapter Twelve

The next day, I push myself harder than ever during our exercises. As Mr. Gryffin tests us, he watches, barking orders and taking notes on our performance. Last night after dinner, I put myself through a workout in my dance studio, plus the same workout we do in training, and I'm better for it today. My legs ache at first, but the ache fades away as we begin our run.

Our sprints leave me energized, not drained, this time. I fly through sit-ups and crunches, jump rope drills, everything. 

Mr. Gryffin blows his whistle to signal the end of the workout. "Listen up, people. When I call your names, you and your teammate will work the space I assign you. Ian Lane and Calvin Hays, take the right side of the field. Kassi Blake and Noah McClure, take the far left. I want you two teams far away from each other during fieldwork to prevent a repeat of yesterday, so there had better not be any further trouble of that sort in my classroom."

Noah and I complete all our soil samples and scan our section. Today, I take my turn working the handheld gadget. Running the device over each inch of our area, I discover we have two treasures to extract. We take a divide and conquer strategy to finish first, each of us picking our own treasure — mine in the center and his at the bottom left corner of our section.

We're the first team to complete the excavation of our treasures. When Mr. Gryffin gives us a curt nod of approval, I dance a mental pirouette of joy.

Ian glares our way when his team comes in second place. Today he's not working with the same kid he was yesterday. My guess is that kid asked to work with someone else. I can't blame him. I'd do the same thing if I'd gotten stuck working with Ian.

"See you at dinner," Noah says.

"See you then."

The sports complex is empty, even the gym, where at least a handful of people can be found working out at any given time on a typical day. In my dance studio, I turn on music, loud, choosing a song with a fast beat. I'm not in the mood for ballet today. I want hip-hop. Moving to the rhythm, I channel all my determination into the movement of my limbs, my torso, my hips.

"Well, well, Miss Kassi. I heard you were a dancer, but I had no idea you were this good." The familiar drawl freezes me mid-step, and I make a slow turn to face Colonel James, who stands leaning against the studio doorway. He tries for a friendly smile, but it doesn't reach his small, narrow-set eyes.

"Thank you. Getting some exercise in before dinner?" I keep my tone light and casual. If he works out now, this could be a good time to sneak into his office.

"That I am. Maybe I'll see you at dinner. You have a good evening now."

"You, too, sir." I don't look back as I head out the door, but I sense his gaze on me like he's burning a hole in my back.

I go straight down the hall and around the corner to Colonel James' office. Casually, I stop and glance around to be sure I'm alone before I take some tape from my bag and press it over the panel. When I manage to lift a fingerprint, I push it against the scanner to gain access to the office. Over and over, I chant in my mind, please let this work, please let this work. The door slides open for me, and I slip inside. I'm in! Okay, I am doing this. I have no other choice.

Colonel James keeps his office messy and disorganized, not uber neat as I expected. Stacks of paper, most of which look as if they're about to topple over at any moment, cover his desk. Cinnamon gum wrappers lie crumpled on the floor around his wastebasket. A coffee mug leaves a brown stain on a glass end table. Scattered piles of books rest precariously on chairs and the floor.

I waste no time searching through file cabinets or drawers. Instead, I go straight to the computer. Bringing up any file that was modified anytime after the crash, I sift through the titles and check the most promising ones first. In all, I find about 100 files to search through. I don't have much time, so I let my fingers fly through document after document, my heart beating hummingbird-fast the whole time. One of the files is a budget, which I save to my memory drive in case it proves useful. I keep going until I happen on a file named Investigation. Bingo! The file displays onscreen and, as I expected, it contains the results of the shuttle crash investigation. I save that, too, and before I go on, my gaze rests on one picture in particular of the hull of the ship. On the largest intact piece, I notice an unfamiliar symbol, a triangle with a diamond inside, surrounded by a green mist. I've never seen this symbol before. I don't know what it means, but when I get the chance later, I'm going to research it.