Disruption by Steven Whibley

came to shove, they couldn’t really do anything to me. I was just a kid. What were they going to do—call my parents? Oh, well. If this woman had been one of my teachers at school, I would have said something smart-alecky. But this wasn’t school, and just a couple hours ago, I’d nearly been blown up. For all I knew, being a smart aleck at Camp Friendship meant I’d be hanging from my fingernails in a cellar somewhere. Plus, she glared at me like her favorite hobby was kid-killing.
    “Sorry, ma’am,” I said.
    The woman forced a breath through her nose. Then she smiled and relaxed her stance. In an instant she’d gone from looking like she might skin us all alive to looking like she’d be right at home in a kindergarten. When she spoke again, her tone was as pleasant as an aunt talking with her favorite nieces and nephews.
    “Did you see what I did there?” she asked. “Make a slight adjustment to your body language, add a smile, and you transform your entire demeanor. You can come across as tough as concrete or as pleasant as a summer’s day.” She licked her lips. “Remember, this is a kids’ summer camp. My number one priority is to make sure you all understand that you’re expected to act accordingly.”
    Juno and Rylee instantly adopted a more relaxed posture. Angie was already as calm as she could be, and Yaakov remained as nervous as ever. Amara seemed to try to relax too. He even dropped a shoulder a bit and forced a grin, but all it did was make him look like a creepy kid who couldn’t stand up straight.
    The woman patted his shoulder. “We’ll work on it.”
    She took a step back and addressed the group. “My name is Elizabeth Clakk. I’m your camp counselor. I’ll answer questions, address concerns, set up your Delta training modules, and most importantly, should you make it to Week Two, I’ll be the one who approves event strategies.”
    “What are the modules?” Rylee asked.
    “Normally you’d get to pick your modules,” Clakk said, “but with the exception of Matt, all of you are new to being on a Delta team.”
    With the exception of me? I clenched my jaw.
    Dad, how many lies have you told them?
    “As such,” she continued, “your modules are picked for you.” She slid several papers from her clipboard and handed them out. “Make note of time and location. Memorize the list, then destroy it in the usual fashion. The next time you find yourself on a Delta team, you’ll have your pick. Unless, of course, you win, in which case you won’t have to come back here.” She laughed and then said, “I’m not joking. Win, and you move on—and so do I.” She looked up at the ceiling and muttered, “Oh, what I’d give to not have to be surrounded by little brats every summer.” She paused a moment and turned to me. “But that’s unlikely, isn’t it? You’ve picked a Delta team of rookies, Matt Cambridge. Any particular reason for that?”
    I shook my head. “Um, no reason. Just, er, thought they looked like an interesting group.”
    “Interesting?” Clakk asked. “Really? Interesting trumps experienced?”
    “I think we’ll do all right,” I said. She was easier to talk back to when she looked pleasant, but not so easy that I wanted to risk sarcasm. Besides, I didn’t know why, but I had a sudden pang of defensiveness over my crew.
    “You’re not like other Deltas I’ve met, Matt. Apparently the Agency hasn’t even released your full records yet. Do you know how unusual that is?”
    I shrugged. “Very?”
    “Indeed,” she said, “very.” She stared at me for an awkward moment and then slid another sheet from her clipboard and handed it to me. “Your training modules are mostly predetermined as well, Matt. There were one or two electives, but I picked the ones I thought would be most advantageous given your scores from previous camps.”
    Great. So I had gotten a bunch of things my dad said I was good at, but which I probably hadn’t even heard of.
    “If