Bertie's grin broadened, a morph that stretched his face into a cartoonish leer. Juan knew that Bertie Todd was a dud at abstract problem solving. It was in getting the right answers out of other people that he was a star. "... Oh. You slipped out of isolation." That wouldn't be hard to do, considering that Bertie was already coming in from outside.
"I would never say that, Juan my boy. But if I did, and I didn't get caught ... wouldn't that just prove that all this ‘isolated skills' stuff is academic crap?"
"I-I guess," said Juan. In some ways, Bertie had unusual notions about right and wrong. "But it would be more fun if you could just come out here to San Diego."
Bertie's smile faded a fraction; the Great Freeze Out could be reinstated in an instant.
Juan shrugged, and tried to pretend that his invitation had never been made. "Okay, but can I still be on your unlimited team?"
"Ah, let's see how things work out. We've got at least twelve hours before the unlimited team selections have to be final, right? I think it's more important that ... you get yourself a good start on the local team exercise."
Juan should have seen it coming. Bertie was Mister Quid Pro Quo, only sometimes it took a while to figure out what he was demanding. "So who you do you think I should be matching up with?" Hopefully, someone dumb enough that they wouldn't guess Juan's special edge. "The Rackhams are good, and we have complementary skills."
Bertie looked judicious. "Don and Brad are okay, but you've read the grading spec. Part of your score in the local test depends on face-to-face cooperation with someone really different." He made as though he was looking across the campus lawn.
Juan turned to follow his gaze. There was some kind of soccer variant being played beyond the assembly hall—senior high students who wouldn't have finals for another two weeks. There were still a few clumps of junior high kids, probably planning for the locals. None of them were people Juan knew well. "Look over by the main entrance," said Bertie. "I'm thinking you should break out of narrow thinking. I'm thinking you should ask Miriam Gu."
Ay caray! "Gu?" Miss Stuckup Perfection.
"Yes, c'mon. See, she's already noticed you."
"But—" In fact, Gu and her friends were looking in their direction.
"Look, Juan, I've collaborated with all sorts—from Intel engineers in geriatric homes to full-time members of Pratchett belief circles. If I can do that, you—"
"But that's all virtual. I can't worked face to face with—"
Bertie was already urging him across the lawn. "View it as a test of whether you belong on my unlimited team. Miri Gu doesn't have your, ah, quickness with interfaces," he looked significantly at Juan. "But I've been watching her. She max'd Ms. Wilson's exam and I don't think she cheated to do it. She's a whiz at languages. Yes, she's just as much of a snob as you think. Heh, even her friends don't really like her. But she has no special reason to be hostile, Juan. After all, you're no boyo. You're a ‘well-socialized, career-oriented student', just the sort she knows she should like. And see, she's walking this way."
True enough, though Gu and company were walking even more slowly than Juan. "Yeah, and she's not happy about it either. What's going on?"
"Heh. See that little video-geek behind her? She dared Miri Gu to ask you."
Juan was guessing now: "And you put her up to that, didn't you?"
"Sure. But Annette—the video-geek—doesn't know it was me. She and I collaborate a lot, but she thinks I'm some old lady in Armonk.... Annette likes to gossip a lot about us kids, and my ‘little old lady' character plays along." Bertie's voice went high-pitched and quavery: "'Oh, that sweet Orozco boy, I do think your friend Miriam would like him so.'"
Geez, Bertie!
They walked toward each other, step by painful step, until they were almost in arms' reach. Juan had turned off all imagery for a moment. Shed of fantasy, they were pretty ordinary-looking kids: Annette the video-geek was short and pimply-faced, with hair that hadn't seen a comb so far this month. Miriam Gu was about three inches taller than Juan. Too tall. Her skin was as dark as Juan's, but with a golden undertone. Close-cut black hair framed a wide face and very symmetrical features. She wore an expensive, Epiphany-brand blouse. The high-rate laser ports were perfectly hidden in the embroidery. Rich kids had clothes like this, usually with broad gaming stripes. This blouse had no gaming stripes; it was light and simple and probably had more computing power than all the clothes Juan owned. You had to be sharp to wear a shirt like this properly.
Just now, Miri looked as though she was tasting something bad. You don't like what you see either, huh? But Miri got in the first word: "Juan Orozco. People say you're a clever kid, quick with interfaces." She paused and gave a little shrug. "So, wanna collaborate on the local exam?"
Bertie pulled a monstrous face at her, and Juan realized that Bertie was sending only to him. "Okay," said Bertie, "just be nice, Juan. Say how you were thinking she and you would make a team with grade points right from the start."
The words caught in Juan's throat. Miriam Gu was just too much. "Maybe," he replied to her. "Depends on what you can bring to it. Talents? Ideas?"
Her eyes narrowed. "I have both. In particular, my project concept is a killer. It really could make Fairmont Schools ‘the rose of North County'." That was the school board's phrase. The Alcalde and the board wanted these local projects to show that Fairmont was a good neighbor, not like some of the schools in Downtown and El Cajon.
Juan shrugged. "Well, um, that's good. We'd be the kind of high-contrast team the Alcalde likes." I really don't want to do this. "Let's talk about it more some time."
Annette the video-geek put in: "That won't do at all! You need to team up soonest!" She flickered through various pop-culture images as she spoke, finally settled on the heroine student from Spielberg/Rowling. She grabbed the background imagery at the same time, and Fairmont Schools was transformed into a fairytale castle. It was the same set they had used at last fall's Hallowe'en pageant. Most of the parents had been enchanted, though as far as the kids were concerned, Fairmont Schools failed the fantasy test in one big way: Here in real-life Southern California, the muggles ran the show.
Miriam turned to glare at her friend, now a brown-haired little English witch. "Will you shut down, Annette!" Then back to Juan: "But she's right, Orozco. We gotta decide tonight. How about this: You come by my place at 6pm tonight and we talk."
Bertie was smiling with smug satisfaction.
"Well, yuh," said Juan. "But ... in person?"
"Of course. This is a local-team project."
"Yeah, okay then. I'll come over." There must be some way out of this. What was Bertie up to?
She took a step forward and held out her hand. "Shake."
He reached out and shook it. The little electric shock was surely his imagination, but the sudden burst of information was not: two emphatic sentences sparkling across his vision.
Miriam Gu and her friends turned away, and walked back along the driveway. There was the sound of muffled giggling. He watched them for a moment. The video-geek was going full-tilt, picture and sound from a million old movies and news stories. Annette could retrieve and arrange video archives so easily that imaging came as naturally to her as speech. Annette was a type of genius. Or maybe there are other flavors of little blue pills.