Conspiracies - Mercedes Lackey [69]
Another polite laugh, and Mr. Krandal sat down again.
The train picked up speed. She was about to recline her seat for a nap when Mr. Krandal stood up again. He unlocked a door at the front of the car, and flipped a switch. Three icons lit up; a male and a female—probably for bathrooms—and a knife and fork.…
“It was probably early for most of you, so the kitchen is open,” Krandal said. “There’s box breakfasts and lunches, and we’ll restock dinners for the trip back. There’s only room in there for two at a time.”
The four townies got up immediately and there was some wrangling about who would get to go first. Two of them sat down, and the other two went in. The Oakhurst kids, who knew all too well what was going to be in those boxes, were in no hurry to get theirs.
The first two came back with their open boxes and looks of disappointment on their faces. They sat down and began picking through the offerings while the other two craned their necks to see. “Granola, plain yogurt, a banana, an apple, orange juice, and milk,” announced one of the boys. “Not even a Pop-Tart, and no coffee. Bogus.”
“I thought the Oakhats ate, like, steak and caviar and chocolate mousse for breakfast,” one of the others whispered just loudly enough for Spirit to hear. She smirked. The girl of the set got up and got a box anyway, and began stirring her granola into the yogurt. Krandal ignored them. The Oakhurst kids snickered.
The train slowed down; Spirit was startled. They hadn’t been under way for more than half an hour, they couldn’t be anywhere near Billings yet—
“Relax,” said Loch, deep in his first lesson. “We’re coming up on the junction with the main line. We have to get clearance so we don’t block a faster train or run up on a slower one. That’s why these trips take at least three hours, and sometimes can take five.”
“Five?” she echoed.
“Sometimes longer. Oh, hey, look at this—” Loch rotated his screen so Spirit could see it. He’d cued up some sort of video labeled THE HISTORY OF OAKHURST: FROM MANSION TO MODERN SCHOOL.
“Huh, where’d you find that?” she asked.
“It’s mislabled. It’s under Science as MITOSIS AND MEIOSIS: THE FUNDAMENTALS OF CELL DIVISION. I’m going to see if there’s anything else loaded up that was mislabeled.”
The train slowed to a halt and stopped. In the stillness, Spirit could hear faint echoes of music and video-game beeps from the townies’ phones. The girl was txting someone as fast as her thumbs would work. After fifteen minutes the train lurched into motion again and rolled ahead in a left-hand curve. Spirit looked out Burke’s window but it was too dark to see anything. She could sure tell when they got on the main line, though; things got a bit rougher and louder. So part of the quiet had been the private rail spur.
The Radial boy nearest Spirit was picking at his breakfast and making a face.
Someone behind Spirit got up. As she passed Spirit, she turned and winked before leaning over the back of the boy’s seat. Spirit stared in shock. It was Muirin!
“’Smatter, Adam, not used to eating anything for breakfast that doesn’t come in neon colors with marshmallow bits?” Muirin drawled.
Mr. Krandal nearly exploded out of his seat. “Muirin Shae!” he barked, looking absolutely furious. “I’m not going to ask you what you’re doing here, because it’s obvious you decided to stow away.”
Muirin looked as innocent as she could, which was not very. Finally she shrugged. “I’m ahead on my classes, you can check for yourself. I just want to go to a bookstore. Is that so bad?”
Mr. Krandal was obviously struggling with himself. “It’s too late to turn back now, which I assume you know. You sit right down