“ONE OF THE BOYS AT THE DOOR IS CARRYING SEVERAL POUNDS OF METAL,” said SPECS from a loudspeaker in the ceiling, “I HAVE NO RECORD OF PERMISSION BEING GIVEN TO CARRY THIS METAL AWAY FROM THE SHOP.”
Danny turned and saw all the guys in the shop staring at him and Ralph. The two teachers were hurrying toward them. With a shrug of defeat, Ralph pulled the gun from his shirt and held it out at arm’s length, by the barrel.
One of the teachers, his chunky face frowning, took the gun. “You ought to know better, Malzone.”
Ralph made a face that was half smile, half frown.
“And what’s your name?” the teacher asked Danny. “How do you fit into this? I haven’t seen you in here before.”
“He don’t fit in,” Ralph said, before Danny could answer. “He didn’t know anything about it. I built it all myself. He didn’t even know I had it on me.”
The teacher shook his head. “I still want your name, son.”
“Romano. Danny Romano.”
The second teacher took the gun from the first one, looked it over, hefted it in his hand. “Not a bad job, Malzone. Heavier than it needs to be. Who were you going to shoot?”
“Whoever got between me and the outside.”
The teacher said, “If you’d put this much effort into something useful, you could walk out the front gate, and do it without anyone trying to stop you.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“And, by the way, SPECS won’t let anybody through the door if he’s heavier than he was when he walked in. We’re all standing on a scale, right now. It’s built into the floor.”
“Thanks for telling me,” said Ralph.
“Okay, get out of here,” the teacher said. “And don’t either one of you come back until you’ve squared it with Dr. Tenny.”
Ralph started for the door. It clicked open.
Danny followed him.
Out in the hall, Danny said, “Thanks for keeping me off the hook.”
Ralph shrugged. “And I was afraid you was working for Tenny. With that lousy SPECS, he don’t need no finks.”
“What happens to you now?” Danny asked as they headed for the elevator.
“I’ll get a lecture from Tenny, and for a couple months I’ll have to take special classes instead of shop work.”
“Is that all?”
Ralph stopped walking and looked at Danny. His eyes seemed filled with tears. “No it ain’t all. I thought I’d be out of here tonight. Now I’m further behind the eight ball than ever. I don’t know when I’ll get out. Maybe never!”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Danny worked hard for the next two weeks. He paid attention in classes. He passed his first reading test with SPECS, and Mr. Cochran let him pick out his own books. Danny started reading books about airplanes and rockets.
The arithmetic class with Joe Tenny was almost fun.
“You keep going this well,” Tenny told him, “and I’ll start showing you how to work with SPECS on really tough problems.”
Danny smiled and nodded, and tried not to show how much he wanted to get SPECS to work for him.
Danny worked especially hard in the language class, so that the teacher would let him take one of the class’s pocket tape recorders back to his room. For extra homework.
Sure.
The teacher—a careful, balding old man—said he’d let Danny have the tape recorder “in a little while.”
Afternoons, Danny spent mostly in the gym. He took an asthma pill before every workout, but found that he needed another one after a few minutes of heavy work.
Ralph was still showing him dirty tricks, still telling him to “break Lacey’s head open.” Ralph even got into the ring and sparred with Danny.
And Danny took on a job. He joined the Campus Clean-up Crew. It was a pleasant outdoor job now that the weather had turned warm and the trees were in full leaf. Danny spent two hours each afternoon raking lawns, cutting grass, picking up any litter that the boys left around the campus. And he was also learning to spot the little black boxes lying nearly buried in the ground, the boxes that held the cameras and lasers and alarms for SPECS.