around like I did always made me the odd man out at school, and I didnât want that to happen again. I told myself I was worrying about nothing. The four of us were arriving from different places and we were all pretty much equal. I was going to be one of them, the human team, starting on the exact same footing they were.
I walked across the hall into the common room, which consisted of a thin metal table and a series of metal chairs bolted to the floor. The three of them were sitting at a table, and they allhad their data bracelets off their wrists and spread out. Charles had summoned a keyboard and was typing away furiously. Park was reading from a wall of projected text. Nayana was examining a three-dimensional display of an alien board game, involving different-sized cubes, and seemed to be puzzling out a strategy. The three of them looked up briefly, and then, as if on cue, they looked away as if I were nothing of any interest.
I stood there for a moment, frozen, unsure how to act. There were some crazy-looking aliens walking around this ship, but there was no mistaking me for anything but what I was. There had to be some explanation, I thought. It couldnât be what it looked like, because if it was, it meant that they were giving me the cold shoulder.
âHey, guys,â I said. âZeke Reynolds, of the planet Earth. I come in peace.â
Charles DâUjangaâs voice was unmistakably cool, a far cry from the enthusiastic kid heâd been back at Camp David. âWe recollect you, Zeke.â
âYeah,â I said slowly. âGood to see you again too, Charles. Likewise, Nayana. Park.â
The Asian girl glowered at me. âIâm Mi Sun. Park is my family name. In Korea they come first. Not everything is like it is in the United States. You might want to keep that in mind since weâre going to an entirely different part of the galaxy.â
âIf you do not mind,â Charles said, without looking up this time, âwe are rather busy.â
There wasnât any misunderstanding them now. They were giving me the ultra-icy shoulder. I was standing there, holding my metaphorical lunch tray, with no place to sit.
âUh, what gives? I am part of Team Humanity, and weâre allin this together, so Iâm not sure why youâre treating me like the turd in the punch bowl.â
Nayana scowled, finding the expression kind of gross, but I thought it was kind of gross too. We all agreed it was in bad taste. Wasnât that grounds for bonding? Apparently not.
Charles stood up and faced me. âIt is not my wish to hurt your feelings, but you are indeed, as you so colorfully said, the turd in the punch bowl. You may not like it, but it is so.â
âWhat are you talking about?â I asked. âIâm one of you.â
âNo, you are a random .â He gestured toward the hovering text display coming off his data bracelet. âWe have been doing research while you were delaying our departure. Historically, applicants that ostracize the random member of their group score much higher than those who attempt equal participation. In fact, if we exclude you from all group activities, our chances of success increase by almost seventy-two percent. You will, no doubt, gain some levels on your own, but we will gain many more if we donât have you to limit our potential. The data support this, and certainly what we see before us right now only further cements the case.â
At first I didnât know what he meant, and then I saw it. Hovering above his head was a faint number. Five. He had already risen to level five. Nayana and Mi Sun were both level four. I was level one with a total of zero experience points.
Theyâd had a full day to get a jump on me, but even so, I felt humiliated, exposed, like in one of those dreams when you realize youâre not wearing any pants.
âDonât you think you ought to get to know me before you judge