of whom flattened themselves against the walls to let him pass. The corridor, just moments ago all gossip and hubbub, fell silent as a graveyard. Corliss straightened his Messenger sash as Jackson came up. “What — what’s the matter, Jackson?”
“You know what the matter is, Corliss,” said Jackson. “Mr. Curtain needs to speak with you. I’ve come to show you to the Waiting Room.”
At the mention of the Waiting Room, Corliss — who was fair-skinned to begin with — turned positively white. The boys from the neighboring room flinched and took a quick step backward, trying to disassociate themselves. A murmur spread down the corridor.
“But . . . but . . .” Corliss cleared his throat. He tugged at the bottom of his tunic. “But come on, Jackson. Why would I be punished? What —?”
“You aren’t being punished. Mr. Curtain only wants to speak with you. But he’s busy at the moment, so you’ll have to wait. Come with me right now.”
Corliss shook his head and stepped back. “I . . . you know what? I don’t think so. I think I’ll just . . . just . . .” He glanced left and right, contemplating the corridor exits.
Jackson’s tone was casual but firm. “I understand you don’t like to wait, Corliss. Nobody likes waiting. But if you don’t want to go to the Waiting Room
Corliss cringed. “N-no, that won’t . . . won’t be necessary. I’ll go with you, Jackson. I suppose one way or another I’m going to have to wait, is that right?”
“One way or another.”
Corliss took a deep breath to steady himself. “Okay, you bet. Whatever Mr. Curtain wants. You’ll get no complaints from me.”
Jackson winked. “That a boy. Let’s get moving.” He put his hand on Corliss’s shoulder and walked him out the far exit.
The moment Corliss had gone, the corridor erupted into a cacophony of excited conversation. One girl even burst into tears; she’d once been to the Waiting Room herself, apparently, and was distraught at the mere mention of the place. As the girl’s friends tried to console her, Reynie and Sticky’s thick-headed neighbors were still staring at the exit through which Jackson had led Corliss as if to his doom.
“The Waiting Room,” one boy said. “I didn’t know
“Let’s not talk about it,” said the other, shaking his head. “I think it’s bad luck to talk about it. I don’t need that kind of luck.” The boys went into the room and closed the door behind them.
Reynie and the others looked anxiously at one another.
“I think perhaps we ought to avoid being sent to the Waiting Room,” said Constance.
“You think?” said Kate.
Sticky took out his polishing cloth.
Logical Conclusions and Miscalculations
When the ceiling panel slid aside that night, Kate’s was the only face that appeared.
“Where’s Constance?” Reynie whispered.
“Down for the count,” Kate replied. “Drowsiest kid I’ve ever met. Fell sound asleep at her desk. I couldn’t wake her.”
“I guess you can fill her in later,” Reynie said doubtfully, and Sticky shook his head with a look of disapproval.
“I’m so glad to see you boys,” Kate said, sitting on the floor. She crossed her legs in an elaborate, pretzel-like formation the boys would have thought impossible. “I’m sick of studying. I must have gone over my notes a hundred times, but none of it sticks in my head. It makes no sense! ‘You must work longer hours to have more time to relax’? ‘You must have war to have peace’? How are these ‘logical conclusions’? Please tell me!”
Reynie gave a weary laugh. “What about ‘It’s important to protect yourself because it’s impossible to protect yourself’?”
“Oh, yes, the hygiene lesson,” Kate said disgustedly. “That one’s the best. I would never have thought brushing my teeth could make me feel so hopeless.”
Reynie cocked his head. Something about what Kate said seemed familiar. But what was it?
“The stuff doesn’t make a bit of sense to me, either,” said Sticky, “but I don’t have trouble remembering it. I can help you study, Kate.”
“When?” Kate said, exasperated. “There’s never any time! No, I need to just do it myself.”
“Oh . . . oh, okay,” said Sticky meekly, his feelings obviously hurt.
Kate was too preoccupied to notice. She was absently braiding her hair into complicated knots, then unbraiding it again. “I really don’t get it, boys. What’s the point of learning this mush?”
It suddenly occurred to Reynie what had struck him as familiar. “I think it’s connected to the hidden messages! Remember that phrase we heard on the Receiver? ‘Brush your teeth and kill the germs’? That has to be related to the hygiene lesson, don’t you think?”
“Hey, you’re right!” Kate said, brightening.
“And now that I think of it, on our first day here we overheard the kids in S.Q.’s class going on and on about the market this, the market that —”
“The Free Market Drill,” said Sticky.
