Free Insignia by S. J. Kincaid Page B

tray.
    “Hey, Enslow!” Vik called.
    The girl looked up, her eyebrows drawn closely together in a solemn, oval-shaped face. Tom’s processor identified her as
    NAME : Wyatt Enslow
    RANK : USIF, Grade III Plebe, Hannibal Division
    ORIGIN : Darien, Connecticut
    ACHIEVEMENTS : Mathlete of the Year, Riven Middle School; twice annual winner, Scholar Mathlete Award; Gold Medalist, International Mathematical Olympiad; first place James Lowell Putnam Competition
    IP : 2053:db7:lj71::335:ll3:6e8
    SECURITY STATUS : Top Secret LANDLOCK-3
    “You still helping out with profiles?” Vik asked her.
    Wyatt’s lips compressed. “Feel free to shout louder, Vik. I don’t think Lieutenant Blackburn heard you on the officer’s floor. And no , I’m not doing that anymore. I almost got caught last time.”
    “Come on, Enslow,” Vik urged. “Help Tom out. Yuri wants you to.”
    “So why isn’t Yuri asking me himself?”
    “He’s busy ambulating Beamer.”
    “What do you guys want changed?” Her gaze settled on Tom. “Oh, that.”
    “Yeah, that,” Vik said. “Someone forgot to program in Tom’s vast number of achievements.”
    Tom glanced at him, fighting back a snigger. Yeah, his many great achievements. He beat lots of video games and even ate two pizzas in the space of five hours once.
    “Tom here’s kind of embarrassed about looking so unaccomplished,” Vik said, jabbing his thumb at Tom.
    “That would be embarrassing,” Wyatt said solemnly. “People might assume you’ve done nothing to earn your place here. Well, I’ll change that if Yuri wants me to, but you have to cover for me if Blackburn notices. You have to swear it!”
    “I swear, I’ll cover for you,” Tom assured her.
    She bit her lip, then yanked back her sleeve to expose the portable keyboard strapped around her right forearm. “What do you need me to put in, then?”
    Vik raised an eyebrow at Tom. “Well?”
    Tom wasn’t sure what accomplishment he should make up about himself. “Champion lawn bowler?” he tried.
    Wyatt scowled at him. “Lawn bowling?”
    “Oh yeah,” Vik agreed. “If there was a lawn bowling Olympics, Tom would’ve gotten a gold medal. He’s also a national spelling bee champion.”
    Wyatt nodded crisply, obviously considering that a respectable accomplishment. “Many people can’t spell. It’s rather sad.”
    Hoping to shock her, Tom added, “I’m also a founding contributor to the world’s largest ball of …”
    “Twine?” Vik suggested.
    “Why, no, Vikram,” Tom said. “Earwax.”
    Wyatt lowered her keyboard an inch. “Are you making these up?”
    “Of course he isn’t,” Vik said.
    “I’ll put in the spelling bee stuff, but I am not sticking an earwax ball in your profile. Or lawn bowling. I don’t even know what that is.”
    “Not everyone can be a math genius. Don’t mock Tom’s grand achievements,” Vik said.
    “Yeah, it’s not nice,” Tom said.
    “Fine, I’ll put in the lawn bowling, okay?” Wyatt typed briskly on her keyboard.
    Tom found himself staring at her left hand as her fingers danced over the keys. She had broad palms and long fingers. They looked too large for the rest of her.
    “There,” Wyatt announced.
    “It’s done?” Tom said, surprised.
    “Yes, it’s done.” She stared at him flatly like he’d just missed something very obvious. “And tell Yuri this is the last time I’m doing this. Lieutenant Blackburn is still looking for the person who hacked the personnel database last promotion round. He’ll murder me.”
    “Enslow, he won’t murder you,” Vik said. “He’ll just report you to General Marsh.”
    Wyatt’s eyes widened.
    “Thanks,” Tom said hastily.
    “Don’t thank me,” Wyatt said earnestly, hugging her arm to her chest. “Just go away and don’t talk to me again. Both of you.”
    The strange thing was, she didn’t say it viciously. It was more like she had no idea how rude it was. Tom and Vik went away and didn’t talk to her