Blackburn stared at him, stunned into silence. Then, “Mr. Raines, if that had been a real scorpion rather than a nutrient bar your neural processor projected as a scorpion, you’d be poisoned right now. Do you realize that?”

Tom looked at the headless remains of the scorpion in his hand, and realized that it was, indeed, a grayish mass with lumpy green clumps. A nutrient bar. He’d bitten into a nutrient bar.

“I didn’t think that through,” Tom admitted.

Blackburn rubbed a hand over his mouth, eyeing Tom, then he plucked the remains of the nutrient bar from Tom’s hand and tossed it into a waste receptacle by the podium. “There’s a difference between bravery and rash stupidity. Learn it.” He tapped his keyboard. “Get back to your seat, Plebe.”

Tom headed back to his usual bench, his whole body shaking, sweat plastering his uniform to his body. He found himself thinking about the scorpions again, the way they’d scuttled out of the closet. It was the same weekend Neil had gone to the emergency room, not him. Tom had never even been stung by one scorpion, much less a whole bunch of them. Blackburn had changed the memory somehow.

Blackburn spoke, “I exposed Raines to a trigger designed to mimic a small, crawling creature. It brought a memory related to that to the forefront of his brain. The census device retrieved it and allowed me to see the recollection of scorpions. Using the Klondike computer language, I rewrote it, and then I stuck it back in his brain. This new version of the memory created a phobia, and if I hadn’t chosen to demonstrate on this particular plebe, then maybe you would’ve seen a natural panic reaction. Instead, you saw Mr. Raines trying to show us all what a big, tough man he is.”

Tom slouched down on his bench, ignoring the laughter bubbling up around him.

Blackburn’s gaze moved to the Genghis Division trainees, laughing louder than the rest. “Another demonstration is in order. Lyla Martin, come up here so we can do this properly.”

Lyla stopped laughing. Once Blackburn changed her memory of squashing a black widow into a memory of being stung by one, he got the proper fear reaction out of her—she shrieked and bolted from the room. Blackburn sent them from class early, and started off after her to undo the program.

As soon as Tom walked out of class, Vik turned to him and said, “I thought that was awesome. He wanted you to get all shrieky, and you were like—grrr!” He mimed biting something in a feral, animalistic way.

Beamer sniggered and put in, “Yeah, he was just annoyed you didn’t wet yourself up there.”

Tom shoved his hands in his pockets, instantly cheerful. He spotted Wyatt Enslow through the crowd, and she gave him a quick, grateful smile since he’d covered for her again. Beside her, Yuri looked mildly confused the way he always did after Programming, but he gave Tom a friendly wave. A warm feeling spread in Tom’s chest, a sense of rightness soaking down to his very bones, like he was home for the first time in his life.

And then Vik said something that knocked that feeling away. “Your parents coming this weekend?”

Tom’s heart jerked. He’d heard there was a Parents’ Weekend here. He hadn’t realized it was coming so soon. “My parents? Uh, no.”

At least, he hoped not. He really, really hoped not. Neil and the Pentagonal Spire? It was like mixing two volatile chemicals. Odds were, nothing good would come of it.

“Mine are,” Beamer said. “My sister, too. You, Vik?”

“Mom’s flying in from India.” Vik scrubbed his palm over his hair, now growing out in lumpy, uneven clumps. “Last video chat, she threatened to come all this way just to give me a new haircut. She said I’m starting to look like an animal died on my head.”

Beamer cackled away at that, and began speculating about what type of animal Vik’s hair resembled. Tom laughed along with them, even though he wasn’t really listening now. He was still worrying over what his dad might do if he came here. He knew one thing: Neil wouldn’t march into the stronghold of what he called “the war cartel” just to give him a haircut.

LATER IN THE evening, the CamCos all trickled back into the mess hall to wolf down some dinner, shoulders slumped, exhaustion on their faces. News of their latest defeat spread quickly. The Russo-Chinese Combatants had demolished the shipyards and all the ships the CamCos sent after them, mostly due to Medusa, who had somehow uncovered the hidden Indo-American satellites in the area and blinded most them midway through the battle. The CamCos had to rely upon the limited sensors of the vessels themselves. Without satellite support, they were practically fighting blind—and easy pickings.

“Man, this would all be a different game without Medusa,” Vik remarked as they strolled toward the Lafayette Room.

“Yeah,” Tom agreed, “completely different.” It wouldn’t be nearly so exciting. He couldn’t wait to download a recording of the battle and see more of Medusa in action.

They’d all been summoned to hear a speech by General Marsh. He wasn’t actively present in day-to-day life at the Spire, but he always came by after CamCo battles for the postmission briefing. He’d clearly decided to kill two birds with one stone and address the upcoming Parents’ Weekend, too. The trainees all settled on the benches. Even though they’d already downloaded the rules, General Marsh mounted the stage and lectured them about what information they could reveal to their parents, what they couldn’t. What areas of the Spire were permitted for parental access, what areas were not.

Tom flicked away Marsh’s profile when it popped up in his vision.

NAME: Terry Marsh

RANK: Brigadier General

GRADE: USAF 0-7, Active Duty

SECURITY STATUS: Top Secret LANDLOCK-16

“They need to wear a badge at all times,” Marsh said, “and you must remain with them. You are not to reveal the names of your classmates. I don’t care how many times they ask about your friends. You do not answer them. If they somehow sneak in a camera, you are to take it away. You are also accountable for any acts of espionage or sabotage your parents commit while they’re here.” Marsh didn’t look pleased at the sniggers that greeted this. “Countries have been betrayed by attitudes like that! You’re lucky you have a Parents’ Weekend at all. Were it up to me, and not the Congressional Defense Committee, we’d have you on lockdown. And we’d have much better security for it.”

Tom couldn’t seem to muster a snigger at Marsh’s worry about parental sabotage of the Spire. He wouldn’t put it past Neil to do something like that. He couldn’t predict anything when it came to his dad.

After the briefing, Olivia halted him in the hallway. “Tom, I’ve been compiling a list of visiting parents. I haven’t been able to get in touch with your father to issue an invitation.”

Tom’s shoulders relaxed. Profound relief surged through him, edged with a strange sense of disappointment. “You won’t. He moves around a lot. No number, doesn’t even use VR. There’s no chance you’ll find him.”

“Do you have any idea—?”

“You’re wasting your time looking for him. He wouldn’t want to come, anyway.”

WHEN THE DAY finally came, he settled on his bed for a long afternoon of watching Medusa fight and maybe video gaming a bit. So it shocked him when he was just getting ready to replay Medusa’s battle on Titan, and he received a ping: Report to the lobby to serve as parental escort.