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ours and is unloading his geode collection. Weird. Why would anyone waste his weight allowance on rocks? Cole doesn’t think it’s odd. He hops off the bunk and launches into a never-ending talk with Ryan about crystals and gems and meteor fragments.
    As soon as I made it back to the bunk with my bags, I stuffed my clarinet case under my pillow. I’m kind of jealous of Ryan, the rock guy. At least he has no problem being right out there with his dorky hobby. I spent the last three years hiding the fact I still love to play an instrument. Clarinet does not equal cool at East, District Eight, Grade Six. Why do I care what other people think? Addy always asks me. I don’t know. Being out there with the clarinet was inviting others one step closer to the truth. I’m different. I’m a Bounder.
    But at the EarthBound Academy, I’m not different at all. That will take some getting used to.
    Marco, Regis, and a big group of cadets from the back bunks cluster around the center tables. Regis jumps on top and pulls up another cadet. They wrestle until one of them falls off. After five matches, Regis is still the victor. When no one else will fight, he skips down the length of the tables until he reaches the front.
    â€œHey!” Regis shouts. He looks right at me. I duck my head and hope he’s talking to someone else.
    â€œHey, you! Top bunk!” he yells. Reluctantly, I lift my head. “Get up here. Show these clowns how to chicken fight.”
    I don’t see a way out. And there’s no way in the world I can beat that guy. I can barely make it off the air rail without tripping over my own feet. I’ll be laughed right out of a fight.
    Still, I have to save face. I slowly slide off the bunk and cross to the table. The metal chair leg screeches against the floor as I pull it out. I lift my foot, still stuffed in its indigo sock, onto the chair seat and hoist myself up. Regis’s crowd claps, egging me on. Regis beckons me with his hands. He looks wild, hungry, like he wants to devour me.
    A whistle pierces right through the ruckus.
    I turn. We all do. Lieutenant Ridders stands at the door. I leap to the ground.
    â€œStand and salute your senior officer!” he shouts.
    Everyone snaps to attention.
    â€œObviously, you need to be reminded you are Earth Force officers. I expect you to show respect for your rank at all times. Am I clear?”
    A hodgepodge of “yeahs,” “yeps,” and “uh-huhs” answer back.
    Ridders walks right up to Regis, who jumped off the table when the whistle blew. “There is only one way to address a senior officer when he asks you a question, and that is ‘sir.’ Understand, cadet?”
    â€œYes, sir,” Regis says.
    â€œAnd what about the rest of you? Am I clear?”
    â€œYes, sir!” we reply.
    â€œGood,” Ridders says. “Lights out, cadets.” He crosses to the door and presses the control panel, leaving the room lit only by floor runners. “Wake-up call is at six hundred hours. Stay in your bunk. Leaving the dormitory at night is against the rules.”
    When Ridders leaves, everyone slumps. Some of the cadets—mostly Regis’s crew—complain about the rules. Others are annoyed Ridders pulled rank. And from what it looks like, a lot of kids are just plain anxious—pacing, mumbling, rocking, whimpering, all of the above. Me? I’m just relieved I don’t have to fight Regis and make a fool out of myself in front of the entire dorm.
    After climbing up to my bunk, I pull out my clarinet case. The supple leather gives beneath my fingers. I pop the clasp and fit the pieces together. As I grip the black-and-silver instrument in my hands, I recall each detail of last night. The whisper of Addy’s movements in the dark. The sad melody that slipped from the strings of her violin.
    There’s still some chatter in the dorm, especially in the back where Marco and Regis