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The Pattern

Copenhagen looked around at the other kids. He hadn't met many children he liked. Most of them were too dense to keep up with his train of thought. He had even outwitted many teachers. He didn't know their names, and wasn't sure he cared to know them. He was a cynic according to Mrs. Landry, and a jaded little git according to the minister.

He looked at the girl across from him, she had brown eyes and brown hair. She was even wearing a geeky school uniform. She sat with her shoulders slouched and her hands in her lap. As if afraid that moving would send the world plummeting. She had no fire in her, no fight. No will to survive against all odds.

Ever the lady's man, he looked at the other girl, her hair was a shade of red that looked like it had been spun with gold. He liked the way it caught the sunlight. Her eyes were watery though. "Ladies and gentleman," he thought "we have a cry baby amongst us." She pressed her legs together tightly and wrapped her arms around her abdomen. He almost snorted- she had to pee. What a girl, he'd lived with enough to think of he as typical.

Copenhagen's eyes went to the next person, a little boy with dark hair and dark eyes, and skin that looked like he had spent many days out in the sun, the kind of tan he'd seen women fight over. Copenhagen wasn't interested really in the boy, although he did approve of the fight in his eyes. He'd seen the little fit out in the lot. He knew this kid was as stable as a single hydrogen atom with no chance of a covalent bond. In a word the boy was explosive.

The last boy had blond hair and an easy going slouch. He was observing everything around him through half closed eyes as if they didn't matter to him. He looked occasionally out the window, and Copenhagen saw him smiling at a bird- what a weirdo.

He quickly concluded that everyone in the helicopter with him was either a) ancient or b) so far beneath his notice he would have to use one of Mrs. Landry's forbidden words to express the sentiment.

Copenhagen turned his attention to the one thing that did interest him: the control panel being operated by the pilot. The pilot's hand touched knobs and buttons and he spoke into a little radio not linked to the children's headsets. He was so carefully studying things that he had almost forgot about the others when he heard something in his headset.

"What are you doing?" it was a squeaky little girl voice. Copenhagen turned to look, and the brown haired girl was examining the work of the red head. She had taken her bracelet and placed it between her teeth. She pulled hard and beads scattered to the floor but stopped as soon as they hit the metal. She had caught two pieces and she stuck out her tongue and held them there. Her eyes darted to the man in the corner. She opened a bottle of water with clear sides and poured a little on the floor. When the man didn't seem to notice or care, she poured some more.

"He's not watching," another voice said, and Copenhagen saw the little blond boy studying their drowsy chaperone. The red head reached up and pulled a pin out of her hair. Mrs. Landry called them Bobby pins. She snapped it in half and laced a bead onto it. Carefully she let the pin with the bead drop into the water. "That's hematite?"

The girl smiled and winked at him. "I want to keep track of where they take us."

Copenhagen reassessed the pair in an instant. He had heard of hematite but didn't know its properties, and he'd been so set on learning the controls of the helicopter that he hadn't really noticed the girl constructing something.

"What is it?" the other boy asked.

"A compass!!!" the brown haired girl said excitedly.


"It won't work in here, it's full of metal," the boy said- and he was right, but it had been a valiant effort.

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